#i hate my brain for not remembering any of the titles cause I just read so much on here

[seungkwanschicken]

one of my fav authors who's been MIA since February just deactivated and I am losing my mind here cause I can't find a single post from their account I AM SO SO UPSET

[angel-eyes05]

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known

pairing: spiderwoman!reader x miguel o’hara 

summary: after miguel’s fight with miles, you confront him in his office

warnings: this whole thing is basically one big argument there’s SO much angst, implied suicide attempt, HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, im projecting a little in some parts of this ngl (i cried writing a certain section of this, you'll know it when you read it lmao), mentions and descriptions of blood, gore, and death

word count:  4.1k

notes: i watched the movie yesterday…and miguel is on my mind. but i remember reading this namor x reader fanfic after i watched wakanda forever of a similar idea to this and i loved it so this is HEAVILY inspired by that fic, but just make it miguel. i would link it but ngl that was so long ago and i dont remember the author. if i end up finding it again ill put it here. also, just pretend miguel has been doing this whole spider society thing for a couple of years at least, it just needs to work like that for this ik its probably not canon but just roll with it lmao. and yes the title is a taylor swift lyric im so glad you noticed (im so sorry she's in my brain rn with the eras tour)

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The anger boiled up inside your chest as you stormed your way across the lobby. Hundreds of different Spider-Man variants were scattered across the area, some more injured than the others. It sickened you sometimes. How he had so many people under his grasp and just decided to throw some of them at the walls sometimes, not caring how hard they hit the floor because they were all just ammo to him. How despite his denials of it, that’s probably what your role was to him as well. Nothing more than a bullet in his massive machine gun.

You normally tried not to think about it, how his determination towards his goal sometimes meant lack of care for others. But this time he had just gone too far. You always had a soft spot for Miles, watching closely on him whenever Miguel would let you go though scanners of all the different variants. You admired his struggle, but eventual success to taking up the previous Peter’s mantle, and always hated how Miguel talked about him. You knew there was no way Miles could’ve asked for any of this. For the pressures and struggles of being a Spider-Man, for everything causing such a strained relationship with his parents, for the death of his uncle, and for what will be the eventual death of his father. You definitely didn’t.

Ok lets do this one last time. Eh, whatever, there’s probably gonna be 50 other introductions after this one so it doesn’t really matter.

Being Earth-837’s Spider-Man has never been easy. Especially since you were bit when you were only 13 (another reason you sympathized with Miles and Gwen). Your life had followed the order of canon events to a perfect T, your older brother killed in a fight with a robber only two months after you were bit. You tried to overcome the burden of your powers by trying to live as normal of a teenage life as possible, but it was mostly in vain, having to give up multiple friendships and relationships in fear of those you love getting hurt. This was only elevated when your boyfriend Peter was murdered in the crossfire of an encounter with Doc Ock. You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. What you had done to deserve all of this. All you did was just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You wonder sometimes what would happen if someone was in the same place you were when you got bit. If someone else went to the closed down area of that museum and ran into that spider. That stupid spider that ruined your life. Those thoughts slowly started to disappear for a bit. For a few years things were easy. Things seemed like they were finally going in your favor.

You were 25 when it happened. The last canon event. Ever since you were a little girl you hated your mother’s job. Losing nights of sleep over if she would come home or not. She always did though. She was good at her job. Too good though. Good enough to get promoted to police captain, which for who you were, was basically sealing her fate. She saved so many people that day. You were too busy fighting Venom to notice how much collateral damage you were causing in the process. Your mother’s job was to evacuate all the citizens away from the fight. She died shielding a child from incoming debris. A noble way to go. But god was it gruesome. You found her after the fight was over, two metal poles impaling her. One through her stomach and one straight through her face, pools of blood growing bigger below her as she was left there, all the paramedics busy trying to save the heavily injured. You froze when you finally recognized her, unable to at first due to how mutilated her face was from the pole. Suddenly, you were transported back to being a six year old, falling asleep outside the door to your mother’s bedroom so you would know exactly when she would come home. Purposefully falling asleep in her arms so that she couldn’t go anywhere.

When you used the key she had given you to get into her apartment that night, and you slept in her room, desperate to intake anything left of her before she was fully gone. You doused yourself in her perfume so it still felt like she was standing right behind you. You had always loved her smell. The smell of vanilla, curl product, and fancy perfume. They were attached to memories you had of her. Trying on her heels when you were a kid to try and be fancy like her. Smelling her hair in the morning before school to comfort you before she left for work. Despite all of this bringing you comfort, all it really did was cause further denial in your heart. That one day you were gonna hear the keys clacking in the keyhole to your apartment one more time. That’s all you really wanted. You would give everything up in a heartbeat just to hear her police scanner go off one last time. But it wasn’t going to. And it was your fault. Deep down you knew it was. You should’ve done a better job controlling the debris. You had always been a messy fighter, but you didn’t know it was going to mean anything until it was too late. 

How you got up to the top of that building is still a blur to you to this day. But next thing you know, you were looking at the New York City skyline from the very top of the Empire State Building. And at the very edge too. You heard some sounds behind you, but you just decided it was the wind howling from how high up you were. You were just so tired. Everything and everyone you loved was cursed all because of you. And with your mother as the most recent victim, you decided you finally had enough. You took a deep breath, eyes overflowed with water, as you set your foot forward.

Your plummet was interrupted by a sudden contact you felt to your forearm. Shock filled your body as you turned around to look at what had stopped your attempt. The blue hand was massive, nearly wrapping back around onto itself as it held onto you for dear life. You finally looked up at face that the hand belonged to. The mask that covered the massive figure was a strange one. Blue with strange red silhouettes for the eyes. It kind of reminded you of…your own costume? That couldn’t be though there was no way. This must be the afterlife or something. You already jumped and that's why you didn’t remember your way up to the top. This was some kind of creature trying to stop you from jumping down to hell below. His breaths were heavy and loud, almost like he was desperate to stop you. This convinced you that this was real, which caused you to try to escape from his grip. He was stronger than you, and was putting up a huge fight. You were slick though. Once you were out of his hand, you closed your eyes and quickly made your jump. Everything flashed before your eyes. Your brother, Peter, your mom. You were hoping to see them soon. This was very quickly interrupted again when you suddenly stopped falling. Something had attached itself to your stomach. You opened your eyes. A web? This web was much different than yours though. It was glowing a bright, neon orange.

The man was holding onto the end of it tightly with both hands. His mask then disappeared to show his face. His was long, matching how big the rest of his body was, defined cheek bones sticking out. Brown wavy hair slicked back with a few loose strands flying out in the wind. The look of desperation on his face stook out most of all. Why did he care so much? He didn’t know you, and you definitely didn’t know him. “Let me pull you up. Please,” he said to you between shaky pants. You stared at him for a bit before nodding. He slowly pulled you up with the string of his web, each move more careful than the last. As soon as your feet were planted safely back on the roof of the building, he wrapped you up in his massive arms. You appreciated the gesture, but you didn’t return it, still very confused about why he was so concerned. He was so big around your body though, you couldn’t help but feel a little comforted, feeling his still shaky breaths against the hairs of your neck. Soon after, he clicked on some buttons on his neon orange watch and led you into a portal.

The rest is history. You’re grateful he found you that day. It allowed you to meet so many people, Peter B., Jess, Gwen, Hobie, Ben, Pavitr, Margo. They all related to you and you felt like you could share things with them that you couldn’t do with anyone else. You had grown especially close to Peter and Jess, both of them having been in the game for a long time, just like you. They both knew how you felt, having lost so much and growing so tired after so many years. Peter even named you as Mayday’s godmother when she was born, a gesture that caused you to nearly kill him with your hug. Miguel though was different. He wasn’t nearly as social as the rest of your friends, but you found yourself having much more intimate moments with him (in more ways then one). You eventually found out why Miguel was so concerned for you the day you met. He had taken interest in your abilities early into looking for variants for his little “project”, but refrained from roping you into something so dangerous while you were still in your teens.

Once you were old enough though, he started paying more and more attention, hoping to catch you in a fight and recruit you then. But he was always pulled away with more important duties to attend to. That was until he witnessed your canon event. He had seen it happen so many times before through his scanners. It was going to happen. It had to in order for your universe to not collapse in on itself. But for some reason, yours hurt more than the rest to him. Especially how you coped with it. Seeing you wrap yourself up in her blankets and clothes broke his heart. He knew where this would lead to. That’s why he was there that day. To save you. He had to, or he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. You got your own watch immediately, along with your own room in the Spider Society headquarters. He stayed close with you for the first month of you being a member of the team. When he wasn’t out on missions, he was with you. You didn’t really know what to label you two as, but whatever was going on, you liked it. And he did too.

That is until Miles came into the picture. Once Miles was bit, all hell broke loose for Miguel. He was always in some alternate dimension catching some Spider-Man villain who got out and rangled them back over here, falling back over to you more beat up and bruised than the last time. You couldn’t imagine how much stress he was under, the fate of the entire multiverse up to him. You had some ways of helping him relieve his stress, but you wish you could convince him that he wasn’t alone in this. But nothing ever got through to him. He had become distant, aloof even. You tried bringing it up to Jess every so often, but she would just brush it off.

“That’s how he’s always been.” Not to you he hasn’t. This week has been hell though. With Spot making it over to Miles, Miguel had been going into rages all week. You had put up with it for now, but that was all about to stop. Watching how harsh he was being on Miles, throwing so many Spider-Men at an innocent boy, risking all of their lives in the process. Disregarding everything Gwen and Peter were feeling and then throwing Gwen back into her broken world with nothing. He had gone too far. No one else was going to stand up to him about it, so you knew it had to be you. Maybe he would listen, maybe he wouldn’t. It didn’t really matter. He just needed to hear it.

“It’s not worth it you know.” The voice snapped you out of your thoughts, stopping you in your tracks. “You know how stubborn he gets over these things,” said Jess, trying to convince you to save your breath. “I don’t care. I have to at least try,” you responded, monotonically. “I just don’t understand how you can follow him so blindly and not see what he’s doing is wrong.” “Because he isn’t wrong. I don’t know about you, but I’m not just gonna stand by and let some kid’s stupid decisions destroy another Earth,” Jess argued. “He’s just trying to save his dad, I can’t understand how that makes him such a bad person,” you said, finally turning around to face her, shocked when she was closer to you than expected.

“You know exactly why. Don’t be so naive, y/n,” she shot back. “You can’t stop me,” you said staring straight into her. She shrugged. “Then I can’t help you.” She began to walk away. You did to, until you heard her say. “You don’t know how much he cares for you.” You turned around to face her again, but her back was still to you, her head tilted ever so slightly to look at you. “If you really do care for the kid, watch what you say to Miguel right now. Cause you might just give him the final push he needs to do what needs to be done.” You didn’t give her a response, and just simply kept walking. You felt Jess’ eyes on your back as you entered the elevator to get up to Miguel’s office.

The elevator ride up felt longer than it should’ve, as you tried to gather all of your thoughts and emotions together so even if he didn’t listen, your words would still stick with him in some way. You didn’t necessarily want to hurt him (though your fists were telling you otherwise), but you did want him to be aware of what he’s done. Once the doors finally opened, all of that work flew out the window as rage took over your body again, seeing Miguel up there looking at the scanners. The fact that he looked just as normal as he always does made you furious. It’s like nothing happened.

“You know, I could hear you coming in from the lobby,” he said, almost stopping you in your tracks. You hated when he did that. Claiming that he knew what your every move was going to be. Like you were under his control or something. “Yeah, well then you must’ve heard me talking to Jess, which means you know exactly what this is about,” you shot back, stopping to where you could see him perched up there. “Why don’t you just save me the conversation about morality and just come up here and kick my ass already. It’ll save both of us time,” he said, not even taking his eyes off the scanners to look down at you. This only added to your fury. “That’s not what I’m here for Miguel, so don’t you dare try to twist my words here. What you did to that kid was fucked up and you know it.” “Oh yeah, then why didn’t you try to do anything to stop me?” he questioned.

“Because I’m not stupid Miguel. I’m not gonna try to take down hundreds of Spider-Men at once.” “Oh, cause you’re so much better than that?” This wasn’t like him at all. That gentle, kind, and caring Miguel you once knew was gone, taken over by some sort of personal vendetta he had against Miles. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but this all needs to stop before it gets taken too far. You’re getting into a fight you can’t win. That kid’s strong and so are his allies. And if you go any further into this, I won’t be here to help you.” He stayed still and only turned his head to look at you. “And what makes you think that you’re so important to my plan that it’ll fall apart if you leave? Have you really become that pretentious?”

Your body froze. Have I really? No no no, that’s exactly what he wants. If you begin to doubt yourself now, you’ll stay and nothing will change. You knew you were right. He was trying to crumble you down, but you wouldn’t let that happen. “And you really think that one kid is going to ruin something that you’ve been working for for years? How insecure you’ve become.” “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, turning back away from you. You did the same, wiping off your face in anger. “I hate it when you do tha-,” you said as you turned back around, but were cut off to find Miguel standing there right in front of you. He was close. Too close to your liking, although in any other circumstance you would’ve found this attractive.

He tilted his head up, but his eyes were down staring daggers into yours. You hated how much he tried to make himself seem more superior to you. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” he repeated, this time slower as if you were a child. “He’s just a kid Miguel,” you said in a low, quiet voice. “An anomaly. And a dangerous one at that.” “God Miguel, all he wants to do is protect his dad, do you know how insane you sound right now?” you said letting out a slight laugh when you finished. You backed away from him a little. “He doesn’t know how much damage he’ll do with this. Saving his father will only prolong the inevitable. His world will be gone within hours if he does this. All I’m trying to do is make him understand,” he tried to explain. “By trying to kill him.” “You always have to exaggerate the situation,” he said palming his face. “But that’s essentially what you’re trying to do isn’t it? Why not snuff out the problem entirely by taking him out!”

He signed and began to walk away while you were talking, bringing up your anger even more. “Yeah, use all the power you’ve accumulated over the years and just take out the small problem! Except this isn’t just a fly on the wall Miguel. This is a child! An innocent boy who didn’t ask for any of this to happen to him, just like how we didn’t. I get it, I’m sorry that this job is stressful, I really am. But that gives you zero right to act the way you are!” You were screaming at him at this point. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want your emotions to get the best of you. But he was being too stubborn. This was the only way you thought you could get to him. You might not have wanted to, but you needed to hurt him now. It was the only way.

“You can’t be so power blind that you refused to accept the fact that there could be a way around Captain Davis’ death. You said we saved Earth’s before, I’m sure we could do it again.” Your anger only kept rising when he kept walking away and didn’t respond. “This is a personal thing isn’t it?” you asked calmly. You knew it was working now when he stopped walking. “Yeah, it it. You won’t let Miles get his happy ending. Because why should he be pardoned of his burden while the rest of us have suffered so much. While you’ve suffered so much.” The answer to your question was confirmed when Miguel stayed silent. “Just because you didn’t get the life you wanted Miguel, doesn’t mean you have the right to stop other people from getting theirs.”

You knew you overstepped the line when Miguel turned around and started walking towards you, fury burning in his crimson eyes. “Yeah, so what! What if that is what this is all about! You should know better than anyone how much this job takes away from you!” he screamed at you, backing you up into a wall. “Why should he get to be let off so easily, while people like you and me have to suffer so much? Don’t try to turn me into the villain here when I know you’re thinking the exact same thing, y/n.” He wasn’t entirely wrong. You had wondered it at some points. “I won’t let you turn this onto me Miguel, this is about you,” you fired back. “Oh no, you’re not getting off that easily. I know you’re thinking it. And you’re right. Why should Miles get let off so easily when you’ve lost so much.” He held your hands in his, trying to connect to you. “And you have mi vida. You’ve had so much taken from you and it’s unfair. Why should he only have lost one person when you’ve had three taken from you. Your brother, Peter, your moth-.”

He was cut off by your hand striking against his face in a harsh blow. “If you’re smart, and I know you are, you’ll keep those three out of them. I won’t let you drag their names through the dirt for something as stupid as this.” You both stood there for a while, both of your eyes looking towards the ground, hoping it would open up to swallow you both as an escape from this god awful conversation. You never wanted it to come to this. In all honesty, you cared for Miguel. You might’ve even loved him, if you were even capable of doing such a thing. You hoped he felt the same way about you, but in a job like this, he always had at least one wall up around you. It just wasn’t worth it anymore. You were too tired to keep trying for something that was most likely going to fall apart in the end. 

“You’re still going after him aren’t you?” you asked, finally breaking the silence. Miguel looked back up at you. “You can’t ask me not to. You know better than anyone why this is so important to me.” He moved his hand up to cup your cheek and kissed your forehead gently. You let it sit there for a minute out of habit before pushing it off your face. “And you must know why I can’t stay anymore then.” His shoulders dropped. “Whatever this thing between us is. It’s over. I can’t stay beside someone who can’t see what he’s doing is wrong.” Miguel’s dropped hand turned into a fist of anger. “Fine,” he spat in your face. “I don’t need someone like you in my way. You’re just a liability to this anyways.” He began to walk away from you back to his scanners. “Just don’t come crying back over to me when your little plan doesn’t work out, cause I won’t help you.” He used his webs to pull himself back up to the platform to keep looking for Miles. You stood there for a second, gathering yourself.

Five years. Out the door just like that. It bewildered you how easily a bond like you two had could be broken all because of one teenager. You began to make your way for the door before you said. “When this is all over…don’t try to find me.” He didn’t respond. Once the elevator doors opened, you rushed inside, desperate to get away from him. So many thoughts rushed through your head as the doors closed and you sunk down back to the lobby to leave. You didn’t have much of a plan. This could end up being a horrible idea. Your gut told you it was the right thing to do though. And that was enough for you. You walked out of the headquarters lobby with a new heart and a new mind, ready to take action for your new plan.

First though, you had to find Gwen.

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a/n: god that took longer than it should've. dw dw i'll do a part 2 if enough people ask for one. im not 100% sure how im gonna do a part 2 cause yk....idk how beyond the spiderverse is gonna go so tbh, we're just gonna make it go the way i want lmao. thanks for reading, ik this was kind of a long one lmao

NEXT CHAPTER

[fanficsbysteve]

Note: You can thank @weewoo911 for this idea not leaving my brain so I had to write it before I could continue on my other WIPs. Thank you for this and I hope you enjoy. I’m ignoring the Abby thing because that was BS, and I don’t like it. This will probably be multiple chapters. All from Tommy’s POV cause its more fun to write. Not sure how many chapters though. I'll keep you posted as I write them.

***

Tommy sat at the second floor table, his phone out, mindlessly scrolling through the various apps he had downloaded. Twitter, Tumblr, those kind of apps. The ones where you created a username and maintained some level of anonymity. He loved being able to spend time just looking at things he enjoyed without people knowing what he was doing or who he was. Lately all he had been doing though is reblogging images of actor Evan Buckley. Evan Buckley in “My Heart Yearns.” Evan Buckley in “Christmas in the Poconos.” Evan Buckley in “The Things That Ate You.” Evan Buckley in “What Happens Happened.” This man was currently the king of the B-Movies and Tommy loved every single one of them, owning many of them on DVD or Blu-ray so he could watch them over and over again.

Tommy was a gay man and was coming to terms with his homosexuality. He hadn’t told anyone in his life yet. That wasn’t any of their business. But he was slowly hating himself less as the days progressed. Maybe he would tell someone when he didn’t hate himself as much as he did, maybe Hen would be the best option. She was an out and proud lesbian with a loving wife, she wouldn’t judge him like he judged himself. He felt dirty looking at the pictures he did online. He felt horrible just thinking about the things that he wanted all those men to do to him. Particularly Evan Buckley. That man could do things that weren’t in any holy book to him, and Tommy would probably thank him for it. And it still made him feel dirty inside. Not nearly as much as others. Just a little. Nothing Evan Buckley did could make him feel completely like he was a horrible person going to hell.

So, Tommy was scrolling while they sat around the 118. It was quiet *knock on wood* and Tommy was enjoying the quiet time. They had finished all their various “chores” and Bobby was already cooking some dinner. Everyone knew to leave Bobby alone while he was in the kitchen, “Seen any good movies lately?” Chimney’s voice broke the silent revery that Tommy’s mind had taken. His real name was Howie Han, however everyone called him Chimney. Nobody really knows why, and Chim likes to keep it mysterious. Tommy thinks its because Chimney’s are tall and built well. However, their Chimney is anything but that.

Tommy looked up from his phone, “Nothing really. Just the usual B-movies that nobody really watches.”

“Why do you do that to yourself?” Hen asked looking up over the newspaper she had been reading, “They are always so painfully bad.”

“I know,” Tommy smiled, “But they make me laugh. You never watched Mystery Science Theatre 3000? They basically made a career out of watching the worst movies that cinema has to offer. And they are gloriously bad. Making up commentary for them is half the fun.”

“I’ll just have to take your word for it,” Chim replied, “I took Tatiana to see that new Marcel movie. Can’t remember what I was called but it was ok.”

“I’ll stick to my sappy RomComs and B-movies,” Tommy replied, “They never disappoint me to the point of forgetting a title.”

Tommy went back to his phone. He was on Tumblr right now, curating his queue, enjoying his timeline. It had taken him some time, but he had finally gotten it to the point where he enjoyed just spending hours scrolling, finding new posts for his own blog and queue. He admitted that he was a bit of an Evan Buckley stan account at this point. His posts were mostly either pics of Evan Buckley, gifs of Evan Buckley, videos of Evan Buckley, or stories written about Evan Buckley. He was just so handsome, and it made Tommy’s stomach turn itself over and over. From the tattoos that covered his body in special places, so that adorable little birthmark above his eye. Tommy wanted to plant a kiss on that mark so badly.

Tommy went to the kitchen to get another refill on coffee. He hadn’t slept much the night before but that was his own fault. He had gotten distracted by watching Evan Buckley movies and he just wanted to finish at least one. One lead to another and suddenly it was an hour before he had to get up and get ready for work. Tommy visibly yawned as he poured another cup, “Late night?” Bobby asked while he cooked.

“Just got distracted,” Tommy replied, “Didn’t realize what time it was and just didn’t end up sleeping much. Coffee is my best friend today.”

“I’ve had those nights,” Bobby smiled, “Usually they involved a beautiful woman.”

Tommy choked a bit on his coffee at the face that Bobby made at him, “um…uh…yeah…beautiful woman,” was all that Tommy managed to get out of his mouth before he hurried away, his face beet red.

He sat down in his chair and pulled his phone back out. He went back to his absent scrolling, smiling inside at all the new pictures of Evan Buckley that were appearing online recently. He had gotten a starring role in a TV show that hadn’t been announced yet, but Tommy was a premium member of the Evan Buckley fan club, so he got all the insider information. He admitted that it was childish to have that membership, but nobody knew who he was, and he was the only one who knew he had it, so why not. It got him all kinds of insider information, and he was a Millennial, so he was allowed to do this. Evan was supposed to be filming the pilot for this show he was cast in sometime in the next few months. Tommy would definitely be watching that show.

“Dinner’s ready,” Bobby announced as he put plates of food on the table. They always served family style, taking what you wanted from the plates and passing them along. It was a tradition that Bobby had started. It was never like this during the Gerrard Era or any of the other dozen chiefs they had since. Just Bobby wanted to make the changes that made working at the 118 better.

“So, I have an announcement to make,” Bobby said as everyone had plated up their meal and was starting to eat, “We will be having someone come and shadow us a little bit for the next few months. They will be filming a new show called HotShots soon. It’s a show about firefighters, and they want some of their actors to get some firsthand experience. To add to the realism. The higher ups have approved of this as they feel this would be really good PR for the LAFD. Several different stations have had different actors who have been cast in the show come shadow us for a bit.”

“Any idea who we got?” Chimney piped up, “Hopefully it’s Samantha Callens, I heard she was cast in something and maybe it was this. She can really learn what its like to be a female firefighter from our Hen here.”

“Shut it Chim,” Hen piped up.

“No, we have someone different,” Bobby said. He pulled out his phone to check his emails, “Give me a second here to find it. Ah yes, we have someone named Evan Buckley coming.”

Tommy did a spit take with the coffee he had just been drinking, sending it flying across the table. Nobody was sitting across from them so that was a blessing, “You know that guy?” Chim asked having dodged to the side to avoid the coffee, Chim was in the chair next to the spot opposite Tommy.

“No…not really…he’s just been in a couple movies I’ve watched,” Tommy stuttered, trying to wipe up the coffee he spat all over up.

“Well, he starts tomorrow,” Bobby said, “And I expect everyone to be on their best behaviour.”

Tommy sat down in his chair, his heart racing and threatening to burst out of his chest. Evan Buckley was going to be here, in the 118, with Tommy. Tommy silently took his phone out and looked at the top of his Tumblr page, staring at his username: kinardbuckleyxoxo was all it said. Tommy knew that it was going to be a long few months. Very pleasant. But also, very long.

***

Note: Chapter 1 complete. Chapter 2 the real fun begins. I usually try and make sure that I have at least a buffer of a few chapters going before I post but I wanted to get this out into the universe so that people can let me know if they enjoy it. So, leave me some comments and likes and give me any feedback you want. Also if anyone has a fun title idea, please let me know cause I'm at a loss. (I may have written this in an hour and a half after I woke up and saw the idea from @weewoo911)

[issybee06]

Because…

Part VI

Warnings: drinking, smoking, stab wounds, fighting, badly written fight scenes so sorry, blood, vomit, crying, children in adult situations, arranged marriages, Hiruzen being useless, Danzo hate, dysfunctional political figures, slow burn, Kakashi and his stunted emotions, canine traits Kakashi brain rot cause who doesn't want that? family issues, longer chapters, trying to make longer chapters, cousins fighting, bastard discrimination

Mamihlapinatapia

(n.) a look shared by two people, each wishing that the other would initiate something they both desire but which neither wants to begin

………………………………………………………………………….

As children, the concept of a ‘crush’ was so innocent. It was a sweet thing, something adults gush over if they ever find out, something your friends teased you about as they try to push you in the direction of the person you fancied.

It was innocent. 

You’d make love notes, buy little treats or toys, and leave them on your crushes desk when they weren’t looking. Then you’d park over at them all day, hoping by some miracle the crush would instantly know you were the one to bring them the gift, even if you never signed it.

Kakashis desk was always littered with gifts or cards the one year he was at the academy. He was cool, and little girls would gather to watch him practice or spar. It could make one flustered, how good he was. It was was almost unnatural how amazing he was. No bloodlines, no special clan gift, just him.

As a child, I always wanted to talk to him. Our parents were friends, I wanted to be his friend too…but he looked right pass me.

I wasn’t the best student. I struggled at taijutsu, my fingers would get twisted if I tried to do a hand sign, and when I got scolded I would tear up. No one in the Capital yelled at me, I was a Princess, (Y/n)-Hime, but here I was just a regular kid. Titles, clans and such didn’t matter to children at that age. Sure, it made you look cool, but if you weren’t rising through the classes and being the best you soon got dumbed as a loser.

I wasn’t the worst student, Obito was levels behind everyone, Anko goofed off so much she got a bad reput but was smart when she applied herself, and Gai couldn’t even use Ninjutsu or Genjutsu, but it was humiliating because of who I was. What I was.

How could the granddaughter of Senju Tobirama, the man who created most of the Justus known, suck at being a shinobi?

I never wanted to be a Shinobi.

I was happy living in the capital and being doted on like a princess, learning how to sit and eat like a proper lady, wearing beautifully crafted kimonos and yukatas, and reading history books in the gardens without any fear of being attacked by an enemy.

I had felt betrayed when my mother left me in Konoha, leaving me to become something I wasn't. I wasn't like the children at the academy, I was years behind.

Kushina, my mother's distant cousin, saw me struggling and took me into her care. I had been living in the Senju mansion by myself the first year I came to Konoha, and after Kushina started tutoring me after my academy classes I began to stay at her apartment.

Little by little my stay at the mansion became less and less, and soon the room I had called my own held nothing of me…and I left the house.

Kushina said she saw herself in me, having also come from a different land and struggled in the academy. She had Mito-sama, and I had her.

………………………………………………………………………….

I stay under the shade of the tree, leaning against it as I watch the academy kids run around and play. My arms were crossed, and I frowned slightly as I watched the little blonde-haired boy sit by himself again. He sat on the swing, dragging his feet on the dirt as he pushed himself, toeing the ground. It was cold out, yet he was barely wearing anything. I frown more, leaning into the tree. Gotta remember to buy him a scarf…

“Youre not supposed to be here.”

I look over, eyes softening slightly, “Hokage-sama…”

He smiled, walking closer to me with his hands clasped behind his back, “if I remember correctly, you're supposed to be looking over the new genin files for your first students.”

I huff, shoving my hands in the pockets of my jacket. I frown as he speaks, slowly loosing motivation to listen.

“…I have other stuff to worry about, I can’t babysit preteens right now.”

“Oh? And that would be? Forgive me, Y/n-hime, I’m old and my memory seems to fail me.” He was teasing me, and I sigh as I push myself off the tree and follow him as we walk away from the academy.

“…I can’t take care of kids right now, I have my assignment to do. Kids will only push my deadline back more and cost more lives to be lost because I’m not working on an antidote.”

“You have an apprentice, yes?” He asks, and I huff. I roll my neck, my tired eyes looking over at him as he faces forward, “Setsuko is smart, but she can’t do it on her own.”

“Ito Setsuko, the laxative creator in the Chunin exams, yes?”

I snort, feeling a bit proud of the teen for being recognized, “yeah…she’s a good kid, but she’s not ready for such a big task, Hokage-sama-”

“Hiruzen. I raised you for a good amount of your life, your mother too, I think we’re familiar enough for you to not need to call me ‘Hokage-sama’.”

My expression softens slightly, taking him in. I knew he still felt bad for not being a better father figure to my mother, not helping her when she was denied as Senju clan head, not and he was trying to make up for it through me. It was sad.

“Hiruzen-Jii…Setsuko isn’t ready to do an assignment this important yet…I’m not ready to take on students…can’t even take care of my Senseis own kid. ” I spoke softly, kicking a rock as we continued to walk through the village. His expression droops, and I could hear him swallow slightly.

“…you know why you can’t take him in, Y/n-hime.”

“No, no I really don’t…explain it again for me?” I snip, and I instantly felt like a child again waiting for my mother to come home for the holidays only for her never to show.

He looks over at me, and my chest clenches at how old he really looked. The lines on his face didn’t suit him, made him look so much older than he actually was. The wars, the village, so many people either dying or leaving seemed to age him.

He sighs, “…having you take him in will draw too much attention on him…he must remain unknown to our enemies outside the village.”

“Yet him being alive gains him ones in the village…” I hiss quietly, and my hands clench in my pockets; balling so tight my nails pricked my skin.

“…I can’t control what the civilians think-”

“But you could help him out a bit!” I hiss, “do something so that he isn’t suffering!”

He frowns, “…if I could, I would.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes at him. Years ago, I would never dream of scoffing at the Hokage, but now I couldn’t seem to care.

“…he’s a child.”

“He is Minatos child, which makes him if discovered in danger.” he speaks in a hushed, but firm tone.

I clench my jaw slightly, holding my tongue. He was Kushinas son too, her baby, and someone I swore to protect. Back then I didn't fight back when the council refused to let me take him in, always ready to follow orders, but now I felt the need to take him home and care for him.

I could put a second bed in my room, get rid of my desk, and make do with working in the kitchen if I had to. Genma would complain at first, but he too cared about Naruto even if he never voiced it. I would buy parenting books, toys, and anything else the kid needed to get by. I'd care for him like Kushina cared for me…and the council knew that I'd do it.

Would they though? No, absolutely not. Bullshit reason after bullshit reason, nothing that actually gave me a real reason why I couldn't take care of the little boy.

“…if I took him in, no one would touch him. I'd make sure.” I spoke softly, not looking at the disapproving face he was giving me right now.

“Oh yes, because you're not in constant danger yourself for your bloodline?” he pressed sarcastically, and I rolled my eyes again.

“Something I have to live with, all clan heads have to live with, its not just me. Just two years ago the Hyuga heir was kidnapped and almost killed.”

“Yes, and we almost went to war again for it. Now imagine if it was Naruto, we could start a whole new shinobi wa-”

I glare at him, stopping in the street, “if I was watching him, there wouldn't be a chance!”

People were looking. Of course, they were, its not everyday the Hokage graces the streets on foot, but someone yelling at him? Especially the bastard heir of the Senju clan? This was shocking.

He stayed firm, and I could see by the little movement of his hand he was telling his Anbu to stand down.

Yeah, like I'd kill the Hokage. I snorted at the thought, and stood straight. He huffed at my nature, speaking lowly, “…remember your place, (Y/n).”

I shoot him a glare, and bow lowly, “…forgive me…Hokage-sama.”

I jump up, landing on the roof. Three Anbu were lurking there, and hand stances ready to strike. I saw the spiky stuffs of silver hair behind the familiar painted dog mask, and knew that her was glaring at me. Cursing me out in his head.

I huffed, rolling my eyes before stuffing my hands in the pockets of my oversize TI jacket.

“At ease,” I side eye them, walking along the roof with a click of my heals, heading back to the TI building to hide away in my cave.

………………………………………………………………………….

“Are you fucking crazy?!”

I don't raise my head from my work, the dropper steady in my hand.

“Knocking would be most appreciated.”

“I should knock sense into you! Threatening the Hokage, (Y/n)?! In public?! You are crossing too many lines?!”

I spin around, glaring at Kakashi from behind my safety goggles, “I want threatening him, I was speaking to him.”

He glared, both eyes on display. The red glow of the gifted eye seemed to drown him, fighting off the dim glow of the blue luminous poison in my dropper. Such opposites we had become.

“…i can't prote-…I cant spare you if it comes to the Hokage's safety, (Y/n).” he growled, and I raise my chin at him.

“I'm not a threat to the Hokage, Hatake-san. Now, if you'll excuse me…this is a private office.” I turn away from him, a stupid decision if he was actually trying to do me harm.

Quietly, almost unheard, was the sharp inhale from him. I never, never, had used his last name to address him, even when we weren't talking for years at a time. He was always Kakashi to me, never anything else.

He leaves after a beat, and the air is cool again. I sigh, pushing my work to the side to lay my head in my arms. Nothing was the same anymore, nothing made sense. Not that it ever did, nothing was sane or normal when you're a bastard of two highly regarded clans of two highly regarded villages.

Nothing made sense.

The chunin exams, Kushina said, were the biggest event for a young shinobi, bigger than becoming a Jonin. Jonin can be promoted at any time, chunin only gains their rank after proving him or herself to not only the Hokage but multiple other Kages and feudal lords.

Gai was practically buzzing after the first round, the written exam, and even more giddy after we got our of the Forest of death after running into team Minato. Now, he was off the wall bouncing for beating Obito in the 1v1.

I felt bad for Obito, Gai was known for kicking pretty hard and Obito seemed to have received full force. His jaw was bruised, goggles kicked off as he pathetically leaned on the railing with Kakashi and Rin. But I couldn't worry about him right now, not now when names of people were being called and the gnawing anxiety of my name not being called made my heart twist and constrict.

I jumped when a hand fell onto my shoulder, “ You’re doing it again.”

I stopped the assault on my nail beds, and looked over my shoulder at Genma. In two years of being on the same team, I had grown closest to him. He could read me like the easiest open book, understand me like a second language. He knew I was nervous…why I was nervous.

It was normal, even in war times, for Genin from other villages or nations to compete in the same Chunin exam. What made me so nervous was on the other side of the sparing platform was my cousins from Suna…cousins who didn’t quit care for me all that much.

“Calm down…it’s a 1 in 1 million chance you’ll have to fight one of them-”

“It’s still a chance.” I breath, my breath coming in short gasps as the names on the screen began to raffle. 1 in 1million, I tried to remind myself, but fait had hated me since birth.

“The next spar will be Senju Isuzu of Konoha, against Ryōichi Satoshi of Suna.” The proctor announced, and I felt my face turn green as my stomach churned uncontrollably.

Satoshi, my Aunt Hachis oldest son, hated me since my birth for dishonoring the Takamori clan name. Hatred most likely fed by my aunt, who disliked me just as much as my mother.

I walk down the balcony to the stairs, passing team Minato. Rin gave me a thumbs up, unknowing of what I was getting into. Obito winced at me, and Kakashi gave me the same uncaring look he always gave.

“Good luck, (Y/n)-chan! You’re gonna do great!” She spoke with her kind smile, and I couldn’t snap at her. She didn’t know, how could she know she was praising me just before my own death?

I gave her a little smile, and walked on.

Nearing the entrance, Satoshi was leaning on the wall, waiting for me.

“…jūkei.” I greeted softly, and he huffed. He stood off the wall, next to me as we walked in, “don’t go crying to your father after I beat you into the ground, Yaro.” He spoke lowly, his angry purple irises narrowed at me.

He walked ahead of me, getting in his stance. I walked to mine, my breath in short pants as my throat felt dry and full of water all at the same time.

“…Will you fight me as a bastard, or as a Takamori?” He asked, reaching into his back pocket. I swallowed when he pulled out a blindfold, one with the Takamori clan symbol on it. Even since my grandfather, Takamori Akifumi married the priestess Kazema Naoko, their descendants have practiced the Kazema clan fighting style of relying on your minds eye.

Cover the eyes, see from your third eye or something stupid like that. The Kazema is what made the Takamori clan different from other animal summoner clans, yet the Kazema clan is forgotten.

I swallow, following his lead. I bring down my headband over my eyes, and all goes black…until color. I couldn’t see him…I could feel him. His chakra, his smell, the sound of his heartbeat and the small shifts in his stance. Block out one sense, and the others are amplified. 

“And…BEGIN!”

He was running towards me, I could hear him and feel his angry Chakra nearing me. As he went to throw his punch, I dodged, and pulled out a kunai to stab his leg. He grabbed my wrist at the last second, kneeing me in the chin.

I groaned, jumping back. I felt blood in my mouth, my lip split from my teeth being forced to bite.

I could hear him snort, “damn…Konoha has taught you shit.”

I glare, pulling out another kunai. He pulled out his own, and lunged at me. I rolled on my back, and rabbit kicked him away from me before flipping up and meeting his kunai. I couldn’t see it, but I knew he was glaring at me. He pushed against my kunai, backing me up to the wall.

I pulling out another, and swung, but was met again with another kunai, “come on, (Y/n). Fight. Back!”

I step against the wall, and use my chakra to keep myself stuck to the wall before kicking his jaw and jumping back. He snarled, throwing a kunai at my head before following me up the wall. I dodged again, dropping low to sweep his leg but he saw it coming, up over me and landing, swinging his kunai at my exposed head aim to kill.

I grasped his wrist before he could deliver the finishing blow, and using one hand weaved the sign for Katon.

I felt his chakra spike in fear, and he quickly ripped his wrist away and jumped back to great a mud wall to block the fire ball.

I followed the smoke, jumping over the wall with my kunai at the ready in high in both hands above my head. He sees me and rolls away, causing me to plunge the kunai into the wall and embedding it. It would take too much time for me to pull it out, so I left it and pulling out another to attack.

He roared at me, sharp canines exposed as if ready to plunge into my throat as he swings a kunai at me. I block, and bare my own canines, I would not be intimidated and belittled by a spoiled little bitch.

He took an opportunity, punching me in the jaw. I stumbled back, and lost my footing and my chakra gave out in my feet. I gasped, falling back into the mud wall he made. I coughed, wind knocked out of me.

“This is child’s play, a joke! You, a Takamori and a Senju can’t even fight?!” I hear him crouch down, and his hands began weaving, “you dont deserve to live, Yaro, a disgrace. KAZE NO YAIBA!”

My eyes behind my head band widen, and I roll fast to stick back on the wall. He was going to fucking cut me in half, the psycho! I thought at I hear the rock split and the broken half fall and shatter on the sparring platform. I turn my head back to were his chakra was, standing up from my crouched position. It was no use yelling at him for almost killing me, he was trying to and I knew.

He ran towards me, dragging the Kaze no yaiba along the wall and splitting it. He wasn’t strong enough to control such a Justus, and I couldn’t believe my aunt or anyone else on my father’s side of the family would allow him to learn it so young.

We are 8…8 year olds trying to kill each other to appease our families and villages. I thought with a sickening feeling in my stomach as I jumped to dodge his swing of the wind sword. I land behind him, and run up the wall to create some distance.

I wince slightly, feeling pain in my side. I look down, seeing he managed to get a hit on me. I keep my hand on the wound, trying to ignore it.

I was going to run out of chakra if I continued this game of cat and mouse while using my chakra to stick to the wall. I was going to die. I slide, grabbing a hold of the kunai stuck in the wall and sound around to hold myself on it. If I could lessen how much time I spent using my chakra to stick to the wall, I could use it for bigger attacks.

I pull my water bottle out, and pop it open and chug it. To use a water jutsu, you needed a large body of water to hold the jutsu. I didn’t not, in fact, have a large body of water but I could make do with this.

But I had to keep him away first.

I gather my chakra, turning it to wwater in my mouth, then shaping it to a senbon. Tenkyū, I thought before shooting it at Ryōichi.

While he was distracted, I weaved the tiger hand sign as sweat began to drip down my brow. I was getting weaker, I had never fought someone so hard before while using the Takamori fighting style of being blind folded…or ever.

“Suiton: Teppōdama!” I yell out, and water shoots from my mouth.

I hear him yell out as he’s hit and pushed to the ground of the sparing platform. I continue to keep the spray on him, keeping him down.

The water dies down as my chakra fades, and I gasp for breath. I weakly stand, using chakra to slide down the wall. I shuffle towards him, and suck in a breath. I didn’t kill him, his chakra was still very much alive, but the fear that I had done permanent damage made me sick.

“…Since Ryōichi Satoshi is unable to continue, Senju (Y/-”

He kicked my leg, causing me to fall on my back before lunging on top of me. I fought back, kicking and punching my he grabbed my wrist, pinning it before stabbing and kunai through my palm.

I cried out, thrashing to get him off but it was no use as soon as his hands circled my neck. My eyes widen, and I claw at his hands with my free hand.

I could practically feel his smile, “this…this is what should happen, this is your fait!”

“NO!” I was not going to die.

With a hazy mind, I pull my last Kunai out, and with all my strength dug it into the skin of his cheek and dragged it up, cutting open his face and taking his eye.

He screamed, letting my neck go as he pushed away from me, howling like a mad animal. He was crying, begging, screaming as he rolling around on the floor in pain.

Shakily, I sat up, pulling the blooded headband away from my eyes. My face and chest were covered in his blood, and I look at him in terror as medical nin raced to get him out of the area.

The proctor grasped my hand, holding it up and I sat there paralyzed.

“Senju (Y/n) wins!”

I stood up, swaying a bit before hunching over, and throwing up. It was all pain, and I sobbed at the acid and at what I had done. I had taken his eye, I had scarred him for life, he would never recover because of me.

Kushinas gentle hands guided me away, holding me close to her as I cried and hiccuped. I was 8…and I wanted my childhood back. I wasn’t like my grandfather, i wasn’t like my father or my mother, I wasn’t like my Sensei, I wasn’t strong like them.

I didn’t want to be a shinobi.

I wasn’t Kakashi.

I felt a spike of Chakra, and I sat up. I turned to look towards the door, but no one else was in the room. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I grasped the closest thing I could reach, a fucking pencil.

“…this is an S-rank lab…leave or suffer the consequences.” I spoke out, knowing someone was in the room.

All was quiet, still, but my guard never dropped. Suddenly a kunai is thrown at my head, and I dodge it only to have to dodge a second. From the wall emerged three shinobi, all wearing Rain ninja headbands.

“Rain…? Allied yourself to another killer?” I scoff, grabbing one of the kunai.

“Stupid woman needs to mind her own business, meddling in things she doesn’t understand.”

“Scientists are annoying, so troublesome to kill.”

The third doesn’t speak, his eyes narrowed as he pulls out his katana.

“All your data, we’ll be taking it.”

“I seriously doubt that…” I muttered, and blocked his swing with the kunai before pushing him back. I grab my note book, and stuff it in my pocket before kicking another guy as he lunged at me.

I raced to my door, and cursed to find it locked. I didn’t lock it, Kakashi must have that fuckin-

I gasp, my head being pulled back by my hair. Just before I was fully away from it, I slammed the alarm button, causing sirens to wale out and the room to be plunged in red light.

I straddle the guy who pulled me back, punching the shit out of him before being dragged back and thrown against the wall harshly. I snarl, digging my kunai in the man’s shoulder before kicking him in the stomach, and pulling the kunai out. I was not loosing this kunai.

The third guy with the katana, punched me, coming into my blind spot and grabbing my throat with one hand as the other searched for my note book. I lean in, straining against him choking me to bite his ear, ripping a piece off. He screams out, letting me go to give me the opening to head butting him and stab him in the throat.

I wipe my face of the blood, and hear yelling on the other side of the door.

“In here!” I yell, weakly, still a bit winded. I raise the kunai, I still had two more guys to either kill or subdue.

The guy on the floor was knocked out, I wasn’t worried about him, but the biggest of the bunch was still kicking.

“Fuck…”

He lunges at me, swinging his large fist. I jump back, sizing up my options. Larger opponents meant their balance was off more, if I could take out a leg…

He swings again, and I jump just in time to see my table being smashed along with all my shit…and the poison, that’s it!

It rolls towards me, by fait or unluckiness for this guy, and I grasped the bottle and throw it at his face. He yells out, and gets blinded by the poison eating his face away, but he’s still swinging. If I’m not careful, a drop could get on me, or his fist could hit me.

I needed to take him out, and I grab the kunai.

Two steps back, one step forward, one step back, step forward Strike!

I go for his side, stabbing him and jumping away fast, but he doesn’t go down.

“Shit!” What was taking them so long with the door?! Was it the lockdown system?! Can’t they just shut it down?!

I dodge another hit, and back against the door. I peak out the little window to see four ANBU, Genma, Ibiki and Inoichi. Kakashi…he was fucking livid it looked, barking orders that were muffled out by the door. His eyes caught mine before a fist shot out right next to my head, denting the door.

“Holy shit…”

“Found you, mouse.” His voice twisted from his whole face now down to the bone, i couldn’t believe he was still going!

Must be a side effect…gives the person tainted with the poison super human abilities to carry out mass destruction.

Oh, remember that pencil? Oh, it’s going into his head, no joke.

I rawr, plunging the pencil into his eye and using my palm to hit it to go deeper. I hiss as my hand gets the poison on his, and I begin to loose skin on my hand just in time for them to finally open the fucking door.

“FUCKING FINALLY!”

Genma races in, checking me over and holding me close, “are you okay?! Oh Kami I was so fucking scared.”

“Genmaaa, handddd!” I groan, and he curses when he sees my skin is fucking melting.

I lean on him, feeling feverish as the room fills with ANBU and company.

I meet kakashis ANBU mask again, and he watches Genma take me out of the room as his men get to work with dealing with my mess.

………………………………………………………………………….

I was lucky and antidote was made, to stop the rotting. My hand was still fucked, would be fucked for a while.

I was laying in a hospital bed, staring out the window boredly. The nurses wouldn’t allow me to work, telling me to rest, yet forgot that they are the one who prescribe me pills to make me sleep, my insomnia legendary. They, of course, can’t give me the pills while I’m hooked up apparently.

I sit up when Inoichi and Ibiki walk into the room, and I look towards both of them, “well?”

“I did a little digging into our friends mind, turns out Rain is not working with the people who created the poison…they wanted to use it for themselves, so no lead on the creator.” Inoichi spoke, and I huff.

“Go figures.”

Ibiki chuckled, walking over to ruffle my hair, “aye, look at you. ‘Not a field ninja’ my ass, you killed a guy with a pencil!”

“He was already dying.” I point out and he shushes me, chuckling giddily.

“To think, all these years I thought you were a prissy little prin-”

“Thank you Ibiki, you are dismissed.” Inoichi spoke, and sighed softly with Ibiki nodded and left the room.

Inoichi walked over to me, sitting on the edge of the bed, “…you feel fine?”

I lift my bandaged hand, flexing it.

“I’ll be fine…Hashiramas genes and shit…I heal fast.”

He chuckles, and drags his hand down his face with a sigh, “…you scared us today…that boy too.”

“Genma? He tends to get over-”

“Huh? No, no. The Hatake boy, he was going nuts trying to get that door opened that he eventually used his Chidori to break in.”

My eyes widen…Kakashi was going crazy…cause I was trapped inside the room?

“…really?”

“Yeah, never seen someone freak out so much. Funny.” He huffed again, smoothing his blonde hair back before standing. He placed a hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze, “rest, I’ll take care of this. You did a good job.”

I smile softly up at him, and he walks out, closing the door softly behind him.

I settle back into my bed, closing my eyes. Kakashi was worried about me…

I turn over, and my eyes widen briefly.

On my windowsill was my note book, and a takeout bag from ichiraku. I stood up from the bed, and my cheeks warmed as I took the things off the sill.

“Kakashi…”

[mujerarana]

r/AmItheAsshole

u/deadfuckingbird0427

AITA for telling my boss’ son his taste in literature is something he got from his mother?

(Asshole)

I'm only posting on this damn website because my fucking coworker refuses to work with me because of it and another coworker suggested I ask here. I hated the idea but the Dickwad coworker that refuses to work with me caused me to lose an important fucking deal I had pending because he decided to be a dick, so I want to just get this over with.

I (19M) was taking a break at work reading a book when my boss’ little demon son (11M) came in trotting around and demanded I stopped reading my ‘idiotic excuse for literature’ and help him with something I don't fucking remember and I don't care enough to remember. This pissed me off, but the fucking brat does this all the time so I just ignored him. He didn't give up immediately and instead just fucking stood there and stared at me for a moment before telling me in the haughtiest fucking tone that my Dickwad coworker (23M) had told him to come bother me. I didn't want to fucking deal with that guy getting on my ass about this later so I resigned myself to losing my break dealing with the brat. I set my fucking book down and asked the kid what he wanted.

Apparently my job title is fucking tutor now because the kid needed help with homework or some shit, and on top of that, I'm the only one with enough culture to know anything about literature in this goddamn workplace, so he was sent to me. Whatever. It was at least something I enjoy so I wasn't going to ditch the kid yet. Apparently he needed to pick a work from before the 21st century and explain its relevance to current culture. I asked what book he picked and apparently that was the trouble. He claimed he suggested a few works to his teacher and they were all shot down. When I asked which ones, he listed biographies and volumes of history books. I told him of fucking course they got rejected, he's supposed to use his brain to analyze a work of fiction and connect it to present day. The little brat scoffedat me. Which doesn't make me want to help the little shit. I'm losing my fucking patience at this point and I tell him that just because his mom has no taste it doesn't mean he has to follow her legacy. Hit a fucking sore spot apparently because the little demon said a comment about my own mother, my DEAD mother. I fucking flipped, of course. He implied shit about my fucking mom.

I told the kid that maybe his boring fucking taste in literature is the only thing his mom liked about him and that's why she left him at his dad's doorstep. He screamed at me that he was heir or whatever rich kids tell themselves to sleep at night, then he threw my fucking book at my head and got the fuck out of there. The Dickwad coworker found out and called me later to yell at me and tell me to apologize. I told him to go take a long walk into the harbor and hung up. Now he refuses to even fucking speak to me at work and sometimes even explicitly gets in my way. It's not even his kid I don't fucking know why he cares.

so AITA?

TLDR; my boss’ kid could dish it but couldn't fucking take it. Now it's my fucking problem and I wonder if I should've just shut the fuck up rather than deal with the dickwad shaped headache.

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OP has offered the following explanation for why they think they might be the asshole:

 I probably shouldn't have fucked around with the 11 year old's mommy issues

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Anarchyleague 15h

INFO: Did I miss how his mother factored into this conversation until you brought it up? Sounds like you already knew it was a sore spot and mentioned it just to start shit.

Beyond that, umm, yeah YTA??? You people would rather treat a child like dirt instead of helping them! He’s only 11, he doesn’t know better, but you’re an adult here. There’s a reason that young people don’t care much about literature anymore and it’s because people like you would rather spend time mocking them instead of being a guiding hand. I’d hate reading too if I was stuck around people like you. You could’ve been flattered that someone thought you were good enough with literature to help him. He shouldn’t have said anything about your mom but it sounds like you started it. And what did he even say about your mom? I’m getting some missing reasons from the way you don’t seem to want to share that, probably cause you know it wasn’t that bad. Also sounds like you do remember what he asked you to help him with since you spend the next paragraph explaining it. How’s he supposed to grow into a better adult if everyone around him treats him like trash? Not like he’s getting any good examples from YOU

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deadfuckingbird0427 OP • 5h  Fuck you. ⋮       ↩ Reply         ↑ -757  ↓

Indigo_lantern 15h

🚩🚩🚩🚩 The entitlement is strong with this one. NTA at all. It’s not your job to babysit your boss’s snotty crotch goblin just because he decided to procreate. Kid deserves a dose of reality for once in his privileged life. Not a surprise this family refuses to read but wants to exploit you to do their work for them. Report your boss to your local labor board, he’s not allowed to make you babysit on your mandated breaks or change your job title like that. Better yet make him fire you and then get a lawyer and report him for retaliating for refusing to do work not in your contract. Play stupid games win stupid fucking prizes

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Featheredass_sass 10h

ESH, the kid for sucking and you for telling your coworker to walk into the harbor when it sounds like he’s the only one here with a sense of job preservation. Yall sound exhausting to be around just quit at this point

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deadfuckingbird0427 OP • 5h  Fuck you. ⋮       ↩ Reply         ↑ -344  ↓

unibomberbuthot 12h

INFO: What did the kid say about your mother?

I can't possibly imagine anything that would warrant deliberate cruelty against your boss’ kid, but I'm curious if you lost your job due to a yo mama joke. You call the kid entitled but the only one that sounds entitled in this whole story is you. You antagonize this kid and then act surprised and enraged when he shoots back at your own mother. Either way YTA!!! I hope you get fired and blacklisted from whatever industry you work in.

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deadfuckingbird0427 OP • 5h  Fuck you. ⋮       ↩ Reply         ↑ -226  ↓

Deliriousseriousfam 15h

JAH

I cant believe people are getting mad at you for being upset about your break being interrupted by your boss’ little gremlin. Literally not your responsibility to help your BOSS’ KID with his HOMEWORK. Its so bizarre that these people seem to forget that when replying. Yeah maybe you were an asshole to the 11 year old but jfc i would also be a bit of an asshole if im taken out of my break to help with some entitled kids homework.

And not to mention your other coworker sending the kid to you ON YOUR BREAK and then getting in your business because you made the kid upset. Crazy that it wasnt your boss saying something and instead this nosy ass coworker ????

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Yarn_queen07242000 2h

knitting needles and a dream

I was going to say everyone sucks here but I saw OP replying to everyone that disagreed with him with “fuck you” so YTA . learn to take some criticism, you clearly can't even take it from an eleven year old

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deadfuckingbird0427 OP • 1h  Fuck you. ⋮       ↩ Reply         ↑ -98  ↓                 Yarn_queen07242000 1h                  knitting needles and a dream                 point proven ⋮       ↩ Reply         ↑ 123  ↓

        deadfuckingbird0427 OP • 1h

The coworker who told me to post here told me there was no point in getting opinions online if I didn't provide any reasoning and just antagonized everyone. I don't give a fuck about any of you, but he's annoying me so I'll answer some fucking questions.

I brought up his mom cause I know her and I know she's the reason the little shit doesn't give a fuck about anything that isn't nonfiction. I wasn't trying to fucking start shit. You presumptuous assholes love assuming things.

And since everyone is so fucking curious, I'll tell you what the little shit said about my mom. He said (and I'm fucking quoting here): “Unlike you, I didn't need to immerse myself in fiction to escape the reality of a mother preoccupied with avoiding sobriety and being a harlot.” So yeah, I maybe poked at his mommy issues a little. Fucking SUE ME.

To everyone wishing I get fired or otherwise lose my job: They can't get rid of me unless they hire someone to take me out. I'm never getting the “karma” you self-righteous pricks seem to hope for. Sucks to suck, my ass is not getting blacklisted.

Last but not least: Fuck you.

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 teentitanfan0765 40m Nightwing's hot ass         Why the fuck does your boss’s 11 year old son know this information about your mother???? I can't imagine how that’s any of his business ⋮       ↩ Reply         ↑ 88  ↓

                gaybladerunner 33m I still dont see why you had to mention the kids mom that way or at all lol. it doesnt matter if you knew her your still an asshole ⋮       ↩ Reply         ↑ 67  ↓                         deadfuckingbird0427 OP • 30m *don't *kid's *It *doesn't *you're ⋮       ↩ Reply         ↑ 75  ↓

         grayson_thotdaughter 10m CALL ME. ⋮       ↩ Reply         ↑ 45  ↓

         temporalanomaly3346 5m This is so clearly rage bait and karma farming LOL op makes a clearly aggravating post then makes up details after the replies started settling. sure, i believe you and your alcoholic dead mom that your boss’ kid somehow knows about ⋮       ↩ Reply         ↑ 13  ↓

[storiesofsvu]

https://www.tumblr.com/storiesofsvu/756561724151414784/ask-game-for-fanfic-writers

How about every integer of 10? 🙏🫡

10,20,30,40,50,60,70,80,90,100

(or less if that's too much)

ooo bless!

10. at what point in the process do you come up with titles and how easy or hard is that for you?

fuck. i HATE titles. 99% of the time it's the very last thing I do and half the time i forget about it until i open tumblr to make the post. For one shots i generally read through it again and pick a phrase or repeating word and use that. For series: i'll usually pop onto discord with a brief summary and ask if ppl have ideas, otherwise i have a note in my phone of potential titles that are generally song titles or lyrics. i like my series titles to actually mean something and tie into the story whereas i dont give a fuck about the one shots LOL

20. what is your favourite trope to write?

forbidden love? we're gonna pretend that's a thing lol. like, stories have to have conflict and what's better than two people who wanna fuck/date/whatever and either can't or shouldn't, or like, their bosses would frown upon it, right? like, any and all degree of it, not particularly totally forbidden.

30. most inspirational quote you've ever read or heard that's still important to you.

christ. i cannot think of anything rn. My mind went straight to disney because there are so many things that light up my passion/motivation. the last time we were there we saw the "new" (lol) fireworks show and it had this little speech that was all "no go, let your dreams guide you, reach out and find your happily ever after" and it was kinda the resurge i needed at the time to be all "oh fuck, that's right, i just need to focus" as the old fireworks show had a bit that i like, wished on every fucking night and always made me cry about cause of how i related to it. wow i'm SO cool HA.

in high school (performing arts) certain people got to sign the theatre crossover wall at graduation and i got to and i singed it with a Fosse quote but i cannot remember it anymore for the life of me loll

40. best piece of feedback you've ever gotten?

bruh ive got no clue. i dont get/ask for feedback basically ever. esp recently people have been more just "omg so good" or "next part??" uhh... yeah, i dont think anyone ever has minus like a comment here and there with a friend when spitballing and i have a goldfish brain so i cannot remember.

50. do you plan or do you write whatever comes to your mind?

bit of both! for one shots it's usually just the prompt i was given/found and MAYBE a bit of a blurb scenario.

series: i will not start until i have a much more detailed outline and a rough idea of how it's going to end. nothing is specifically labelled and as i work on the story the outline gets longer, more fleshed out, sometimes there's full conversations or smut pieces in the outline and eventually ch's get labelled and sometimes it's like "ch 4, they go to this hotel and fuck" lol

60. where is the most dangerous place that you're written fic?

work. was stuck in the bar (that guests dont have access to) during service time with nothing else to do. my manager literally came in and teased me about not working and then later asked what i was working on and i said "fanfic, but that's all i'm telling you cause a lot o its real gay and real dirty" LOL

70. are you ever critical of your own writing? how much do you find yourself editing (either during or after the fact?)

i'm SO critical, but it's like, when i'm rereading it months down the road and it's been posted and too late to edit LOL. and it's mainly me just looking at old works that are SO trope filled and slightly cringe and include lot of the stuff that i no longer write.

I don't edit too much at all lol. I'll catch most typos or grammar while going/on a brief read through but it's VERY rare i'll actually go back to edit a full passage the next day or anything. Hence my very detailed outlines! i will edit from there to the fic cause i'll add to the outlines whenever something sparks in my brain and i know its good lol.

80. do you try to put themes, motifs, messages, morals, etc in your writing?

uhh... no? LOL. sometimes i do, and sometimes they just end up there completely by accident.

90. do you notice your own voice in your writing style?

absolutely. why do you think there's so much profanity? LOL. but also as someone who writes mainly reader insert, there is a little bit of me in every yn i write

thanks for asking!! <3 (and that's never too much lol)

[taohs]

Yeah.. There's quite a few webtoon series that I've been curious about reading. Especially because of the designs to the creator's artwork.. A lot of the character designs make me interested in wanting to read so many different stories. I'm so trying to remember some of the stories.

Besides Bloodhounds (which is something like Hunting Dogs as their title for the webtoon). Sweet Home. There are other webtoons too.

Midnight Poppy Land is one - because of the pretty man, who's really my type of guy, working in the mafia as one of their main bodyguards who eventually falls in love with a woman who is the opposite of him.

There was another webtoon series. I can't remember the title, and I'm gonna tell you when I remember the title. But this webtoon is actually sporty? Not really into sporty genres if I'm being honest. But I have to say that I was mainly drawn into the story because of the artwork.. So I might have to search around so I can tell you the title next time we'd talk. And it's bothering me that I can't even remember the title too.

I might have to look into Pigpen, I am curious to see if it's a story that I might want to read. So I'll definitely look into that series than.

What sites do you use? To read webtoons. Oh! Wait. I just realized you answered that already. So that's my fault. I missed reading that.

Oh! Yeah. The new season for Sweet Home should be coming back in mid December, between the 14th and 20th. If you decide to watch it.

I am not surprised that some things have changed from the webtoon adaption to the show adaption. Every adaptions have done that from what I've noticed. But at least I know ahead of time if I read webtoons stories though.. Just to see what the differences with those scenes.

But yeah. My biggest complaint was the CGI monsters. I know mainly every show or movie you watch has some cgi effects for the creatures you'd see. But they could've done better with the cgi effects though.

And before I forgot. If and when you do decide to watch Bloodhounds at some point. Because of certain events that happened with the very main female actress, because she did drive drunk under the influence which caused a lot of damaged property, they even had to rewrite the script - at least for the last three episodes anyway. To let you know if.. Y'know. You do decide to watch the show. So I don't know if there can be any new seasons for this show. But I still enjoy the series though.

Vincenzo Cassano's my husband. This man definitely has the beauty, brains and brawn. He's everything I want in a man. Never sharing him.

How is this nearly forty year old man still have his baby faced features like that. What the fuck. I know that I'm babyfaced... But he is actually a lot more babyfaced than I am. I don't know how to feel about that.

I might be rewatching Vincenzo for the umpteenth time again.

Yeah. That never makes sense to me? Everyone has a right to like and dislike whichever characters they want to. Since fictional characters... They are fictional characters saying and doing fictional things which I have to say is not the same as real people saying and doing real these real things. Real and fictional are different. So why bother people who like certain characters. Why waste your time on something like that.

Besides fictional characters. My ideal men exist in the real world from what I have noticed.. Except they love across the world in many other countries. They're celebrities. And they don't know I exist. So there's a lot of those facts to take into account. Oh! And I don't leave my house that often either. So how can I meet someone if I don't really leave my house most of the time. Always one problem after another. I hate it.

Preference heights for fictional characters? Not that I know of.. Being a short person, I love seeing short characters fighting and even killing characters much bigger than them. The whole pintsized powerhouse, that trope is so fun for me to see because I have pride in being short. Unless you're acting romantic? Like what type of character I may also like because of size? Because I was not really sure what you meant by the question. But if you meant fictional crushes. If they are taller than me, then that's all that matter. Because if I was with a short person in the sense of Levi (or Mikey from Tokyo Revengers for example), those characters are still taller than me even if they're short. So being in any relationship with someone short like that would feel like some normal relationship because we'd be closer in height in that sense. But at the same time, I also like tall characters because the obvious reasons you can think of. Bigger size might be intimidating to most people for one reason, unless there are short characters who are intimidating for any other person. But taller people can reach higher things that any short people can't, like the top shelves, for the short people who don't want climb to get something. So there's that. As examples. But generally.. I don't really have a preference in height for characters? That I know of.

I might have repeated myself? Maybe. I'm not sure if I did though.

Exactly. I admit that.. At first, I did hate Noelle because of her attitude toward everyone who wasn't a royal family. And her catchphrase does annoy me. But she did realize that someone's class should not matter in this way, only someone's personality and capabilities matter. Which is why I like her being around the Black Bulls and Crimson Lions since they are hardworking when they want to be, compared to many other squads. But her attitude towards the Black Bulls, when she was really first introduced, made me hate her because of her prissy attitude any time she talked with one of them. Though she is more tolerable to me now. But not the other people in the Silva family besides their mother who I like. If Nozel didn't want Noelle to be a knight because he might have been afraid she would die, just like their mother. Like.. Okay. So I understand he couldn't mention the demon's name because whoever speaks the demon's name also gets cursed too. That's fine. But Nozel could have told Noelle the truth, the he didn't want her to be a knight, because he didn't want her to die in battle like their mother. Not a lie. I think that would have been easier, than her three siblings abusing her entire life just because they didn't want her to be a knight. That's very stupid to me. There was other methods he could have used for this.

hey, it's been a while! really sorry for the inactivity... how have you been? have you started any new shows/read any other webtoons during this time? :) on my end, i actually started bloodhound not too long ago! i was scrolling through netflix because i wanted a break from anime (even though i already rewatched black lagoon in the past month lol), and remembered your recommendation, so i started watching. i'm on episode 3 right now, and i really like it. the main boy gun-woo is really precious and i like his friendship with the other boxer too. from the first episode, i actually thought it was going to be a regular boxing show, so i was pleasantly surprised that it has such an interesting plot. i will definitely be finishing the series ^^ especially when it ends on cliffhangers all the time? so hard not to click on the next episode. the next kdrama on my list will probably be vincenzo… i remember starting the kdrama a few years ago with my friends, but never got to finish it since i started work around the same time. but i keep hearing such good reviews that im motivated to finish it till the end. and i know that the actor for vincenzo cassano is really handsome too

i relate to you so much about the ideal person. personally i wouldn't mind meeting someone new, i'm at the age where i think its about time i do, but i rarely leave my house to begin with 😂 it's just too comfortable in here. so i crush on fictional characters instead hahaha. it's been a while since i've crushed on a celebrity, but it's probably because i got into an anime phase after falling out of the asian drama/kpop ones. ahh i see what you mean about liking taller characters. it's fun to watch short characters dominate in fights, like luck from black clover and thorfinn from vinland saga (also a really good anime, if you haven't seen that one yet.) but for crushes, it's more attractive to me when they're taller 😆 but of course it usually depends on their personality/demeanor whether i fall in love or not

yeah, i completely agree on what you said about nozel. tbh i think i dislike him more than some of the villains. i'm not a big fan of the antagonistic sibling who secretly cares for their sibling trope, because it's usually always done poorly. and nozel definitely was forgiven way too easily for being a bastard of a brother for so long. clearly he could be a redeemable character, and it's ultimately up to noelle whether she wants to forgive him or not, i just don't like the way the story went about with it. the black bulls member is more of a family to her than her siblings had ever been anyway. but oh well... i don't really care for him right now. whether he survives the last arc also doesn't mean that much to me too. i'm just interested in mereoleona and how yami/charlotte is going to play out

[ace-of-gay]

Im gonna respond to all of these

I prefer writing oneshots

I get a quick general idea written down like very simple stuff like "bucky and reader go on adventures" and big detail i want make sure are in it but thats it

Mines honestly not that interesting or special, i just take a little while to think and then i word splurge, its the exact same way i write poetry it just happens

All over the place, music, my favorite scenes in books/ movies, things i desire, and most certainly from my weird daydreaming episodes

I love constructive criticism as long as theres no hate included

I do not have it beta'd, i just read it six times and put it into word to make sure i catch as many mishaps as possible

I only write in one type of pov because thats how i brain splurge, other pov's take alot more time

I prefer the middle, it always has the most fill to it

Sometimes i comment but im still utterly shy and anxious when commenting

Number ten is absolute gibberish to me... (im on mobile so its confusing to me)

Of my own? Meh probably happiness greed because its my experience written in partial poetry ... of someone elses? Delicate edges!

I love receiving it but it doesn't bother me if i dont get any feedback, ijust want others to be happy

If you have a word pop up im your mind at any time of the day and you don'tknow what it means, look it up, ive expanded my vocabulary by simply asking my phone to define words

I definitely draw from personal experience and like to put my mind in that state for a moment and figure out how i would act

I dont write nsfw stuff although I do occasionally read it if the writing style is encapsulating to me

Like 20 ideas... mmmm tony x reader, stealing his sunglasses so he makes you your own

I just avoid writing when i struggle with it, why hurt my mind with something i enjoy ya-know?

I title mine afterwards, i honestly just take the general idea and put it into words i xant describe it any other way

I dont read or write on ao3 but if i did it would probably be " gut-wrenching fluff "

I love the idea of fluff and cuddles... i crave attention but hate having it in real life so i write storied that give me the attention i crave and share it with others who crave that attention (:

Absolutely i would, i think i already have with one of my friends kinda, i just dont remember what fic it was

I dont write smut

Splurge!! Thow ideas down and when one won't leave your mind think about it as much as you can

To stop writing, genuinely the only thing i can remember

Back when i wrote on fanfic.net i had one that was around 5000 words and it was so full of emotions, sadly its gone now and i didn't write the way i do now so its not saved to any of my devices but it never got much attention

I honestly don't know but in the idea of my personal experience im gonna say happiness greed

I hate the writing it down part, i love the splurge of ideas and seeing that people enjoyed my writing

Uuuh maybe like a sentence here or there on my off days but on good days around 1000 words or more

Read ove it six times, put it into word fix the grammer mistakes add my warnins and stuff and than its good to go

9.5 /10 times i wait unless i know its not deep enough to complete in full

Uhhh both, honestly it mixes together and i dunno i get the ideas at the same time

Skip... cause i forget everyones names and i love everyones writing so so much!!

I hope to publish my poetry someday so technically yes

Probably still writing poetry, hopefully writing a book

They still think how everyone else does their experiences in life are just skewed, trauma can do some crazy things

I have absolutely no idea

I also have no idea

Isnt that what the asks are? Like free commissions? I already do lol

Uuuh i cant find any currently lol

Probably a hug with any charcter from any of my extra fluffy fics

I reread fics all the time, i have links to my favorites saved in my phone

I dont remember currently

I like reading whump in moderation im not sure my feelings on writing it but im not against it

Just silly spelling errors

Sometimes yes to one Sometimes yes to the other

Fluff with trauma

Six times in my notes app and once in word

No one betas my work

On my agere fics people get upset sometimes but i deleate the occasional hate comment, cant bother me when im in a stable mindset on something but that doesn't mean i wont protect others minds in my comments

Like 3000+ words if its even still on here

I dont use a03

I respond to comments as often as possible so people know ive seen what they've said and that they know i appreciate them

70% reader 30%writer

Thinking to myself, in the show/ movie they would never do said thing, but this is my version so of course they would

I love writing for bucky and loki in a way that feels like theyre healing their trauma

Smilies and new words! I love expanding my vocabulary

Editing small things as i write and anything i missed i fix after

Does posting count? Cause one its done im happy

So technically yes and no, so my family knows i write stories but not fanfictions, my best friend knows lol

Yes!!! And they said they love my writing style and agjfkrek it made me giddy with excitement

I like putting my ideas places

Completed series yessss, incomplete with cluff hangers i fear im gonna forget to come back

Orbs... globes, ... just say eyes

I dunno honestly

I look forward to finishing up on the asks that are sitting in my ask box!

I kinda just dont, with my migraines my schedules are basically unpredictable

I like both but im more consistent with independent works

Read, listen to music, watch movies, daydream

Luckily none of them honestly

Enthusiastic because i have more than just fanfics if they want to see

In my head, things in my head are in filing cabinets, jts strange

It all depends honestly

I have no idea, my writing is generic to me

The poetic parts, my poetry is written i. A very specific way

N/A

Yes, person with oral fixation (desire to chew on things and put non edible items in ones mouth) loki scolds their new puppy for chewing things and person starts to try to not chew on things, i was gonna write it but forgot to finish it now it just sits in my drafts

Any of the self indulgent ones

Get to know your fic writer!

Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?

Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?

Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

Do you like constructive criticism?

Do you have your work beta'd? How important is this to your process?

How do you choose which POV to write from?

Do you prefer the beginning, middle, or end of a story?

Do you comment on stories you read?

Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up

Link your three favorite fics right now

how does receiving or not receiving feedback/support impact you?

what’s a common writing tip that you almost always follow?

how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

How do you write smut scenes? Do you get very visual or detailed? How important is it to be realistic?

How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

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Would you ever collaborate with another writer for a story?

Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc)

Best writing advice for other writers?

Worst writing advice anyone ever gave you?

What fic do you wish you got more of a response on?

Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

What is your most and least favorite part of writing?

On average, how much writing do you get done in a day?

What’s your revision or editing process like?

Do you share rough drafts or do you wait until it’s all polished?

Do you start with the characters or the plot when writing?

Name three of your favorite fanfic writers.

Do you want to be published some day?

Five years from now, where do you see yourself as a writer?

What is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain? 

How do you write kissing scenes?

How do you choose where to end a chapter?

Would you ever write commissions?

Share a snippet from a WIP

If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

Do you tend to reread fics or are you a one-and-done kind of person?

What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?

Do you take a sadistic joy in whumping your characters, or are you more the "If you hurt them I would kill everyone and then myself" kind of person?

What mistakes do you keep making no matter how many times your beta corrects you?

Do you want to break your readers‘ heart or make them laugh?

How would you describe your style? (Character/emotion/action-driven, etc)

How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

What do you look for in a beta?

Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

How long is your longest fic?

What’s your total AO3 word count?

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?

What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

Do you prefer editing as you write, or waiting until it’s finished? 

What part of the writing process do you enjoy the most? (Brainstorming, outlining, writing, editing, etc) 

Does anyone in your personal life know you write fic? if not, would you tell anyone?

Have you had a writer you admire comment on your fic? What was that like?

Why do you continue writing fics?

Thoughts on cliffhangers?

Something you hate to see in smut.

Something you love to see in smut.

Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

How do you deal with writing pressure (ie. pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc.)?

Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas?

What, if anything, do you do for inspiration?

What work of yours, if any, are you the most embarrassed about existing?

When asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?

When it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?

What order do you write in? front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?

What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

You’ve posted a fic anonymously. How would someone be able to guess that you’d written it?

What scene in [Fanfic Name] took the longest to write? What was difficult about it? 

Did you have any ideas that didn’t make the final cut of [Fanfic Name]? 

Do you have a favorite scene you’ve written from [Fanfic Name] story/chapter? 

[109moons]

I always say to myself I won’t let James’ sheer narcissism and density get to me or make me angry anymore but truthfully, that is the lie I tell. It pisses me off so badly this false narrative that he has written in his toxic brain — how I am this horrific liar, now fueled by him seeing a recent picture of myself and Matt - who I would not have survived the hospital without his friendship and care of my pets, and painting this portrait as if he is vindicated because now he thinks he has “proof” of something.

Vindication is an empty room. There is no victory nor is there anything to hide, hence me posting openly and freely. I absolutely lied about my friendship with Matt when I was in a relationship with James — but not out of any malice or sneakiness — out of fear. Something so much smaller than a true friendship with my ex would have sent James so far off the rails, caused such a massive fit that he still would have come back from, I was exhausted before things even got serious with us.

So just like I absolutely lied, I also absolutely apologized long ago. I apologized until my lungs ran out of air, which they did. I apologized and tried to explain why I had hid an innocent friendship. I tried to level with emotion. I took ownership and accountability long ago. I made peace with myself for that mistake, because acceptance is not an empty room and there is friendship and grace to be found in there.

What I cannot forgive myself for is why I stayed in that relationship with him, when I felt the need to lie. Why my self esteem was so low, that I thought I deserved the way he talked to me and how hateful he was. How afraid I was of making him angry, that I made myself smaller and tucked away parts of my life. So of course, I am not proud of myself for lying in the past, who would be? I am ashamed that I felt little of myself that it would allow me to act out of character and betray someone’s trust — regardless of my intentions. But that shame amounts to nothing, and sitting in that echo chamber just makes my ears bleed and I ran out of tissues a long time ago.

So no, I won’t subtext or beat around the bush, obviously I know James still checks my blog - and I check his to see how he’s doing. I did not post a picture with my ex out of harm, this is still a space for me, and I wish it still remained my private space, but it didn’t and I have no one to blame for that but myself. I post pictures from my life, and Matt is part of it, because we were best friends at some point, because he cares if I live or die, because I want good things for him because I am a forgiving person and he’s a good person despite him hurting me in the past. Because I have a warm soul and a good heart, and I do not let people go unless they have hurt me beyond repair. There are two people in my life that take that title — my mother, and James. And I’m sure he’s reading this right now and will be outraged that I will not give him some title of a victim as he so desperately wants, but I won’t.

There is no justifying my lie, despite me having every explanation in the world for it — but there is no explanation around him lying to me about the entire person he is. I don’t know you, and I check your blog to make sure you are alive. All I can thank you for now is my self esteem, walking away from you gave me strength to set a boundary against my Mother, and I made a great new friend in your family. So be mad that I am happy, that Matt is an important part of my life now and a friend, and remember that this was you. My mistake was a drop in the ocean of your deception.

[sonicasura]

Golem!First

This next nonhuman Link stems from me reading the Skyward Sword Prequel and my brain trying to keep me from sleeping with the thought. What kind of golem I'll be using isn't fully based on the Hebrew equivalent. Instead it's from in my personal opinion, a very underrated game called Knack. I'll be drawing him later like the other Links.

Same situation as Wild, an amnesiac. Golem!First is the remnants of his original spirit casted away by Hylia that now inhabits a mysterious golden orb and body of mysterious relics. Height range from 2'2 to 33'7 depending on how many parts he takes into his body.

A selective mute that prefers to stay in his small form, mainly cause he can't speak at said size. Often communicates in sign language or morse code whenever First doesn't feel like using his voice. His voice is still the same as when he was Hylian.

Personality is similar to that of a child, curious about everything around him and loves to play games. His original personality peeks through in a fight or under heavy stress. It's almost like two minds share this peculiar body.

Feels awkward when not a wearing a hat. If hatless, First will steal someone else's hat or something to make due. Has a special messenger hat that he loves.

Constantly plagued with the memories of his past life's suffering as night terrors. Whenever this happens, First doesn't want to be alone at all. Very bad ones often make him very dangerous as he'll flail about and shift into his larger form unless woken up.

Can actually take on the visage of his original form but doesn't know at all. First stumbles upon this by accident. Absolutely hates looking at himself like that and rarely uses it unless needed. (Poor fella is traumatized even if he doesn't remember everything.)

Can understand any language just by hearing or seeing it at least twice. First can also communicate with machines and spirits. Sheikah related devices like the Gossip Stones freak him out.

Very touch starved. Often seeks out Blupees or fairies for comfort. If he trusts someone then First will go to them. Prefers hugs, cuddles or being held.

Uses magic aligned tools such as Fire Rods than normal weapons. This mainly stems from the fact he can manipulate his parts in ways similar to conventional weapons like swords, bows, and even hammers. Can corporate non-relic parts such as ice, wood, metal, crystals and even bone in a way similar to armor.

Immediately avoids the Chain upon seeing them. Mainly because most of them look too much like his original self. Only Wind can see the echo of First beside his golem incarnation.

Is comfortable around Legend, Wind and Hyrule. Takes quite a while before he's comfortable with everyone else in the group. First is usually called Tyke by the Chain instead of his title.

Avoids every Zelda except for Tetra. First is greatly terrified of Sun and tolerates Flora better than everyone else. It takes longer before he's comfortable around them. Seeing Sky's Crimson made him upset at first but First happily greets the Loftwing afterwards.

Loves music a lot. Always happy when one of the Chain plays their instruments. Time bought First a pair of hand drums and gave the man a big bear hug in return. Happily plays his gift whenever possible.

That's all I have for now! Until next time folks, I'll see you back in Hyrule.

[ameliora-j]

happier than ever // hp x reader

words: 1.7k

warnings: breakup, talk of the war, angsty asf, i think that’s all but as always lmk loves! :)

a/n: based on happier than ever by billie eilish,, italics are flashback/song lyrics

a/n ii: i do NOT like nor do i promote billie eilish in any way at all. but the song is trending on tiktok and i thought it’d be a good fic idea

it was the biggest argument the two of you had ever had. the one that resulted in the end of your relationship. you regretted every single second of it. you knew that he was trying. that he just wanted to help. he was trying to make a better world for himself. for everyone. for you. for both of you. so you could have the future you always talked about.

but lately he wasn’t around. he had a lot of responsibilities, you understood that. but you were his girlfriend. and lately he wasn’t being much of a boyfriend. you tried to push it away when he called rain checks on your dates. or when he was late because it “slipped his mind.” or when, sometimes… he didn’t even show at all.

it was your final straw when he showed up three hours late for your anniversary dinner. it wasn’t even your true anniversary… that was two weeks ago. but he had missed that because he was at hagrid’s hut with ron and hermione. you pushed it off with a shrug and a small smile. no more than a “it’s okay harry, i promise. i know you have a lot on your plate right now,” as you kissed his cheek and retreated to your dorm for the night.

but that night… that night you just had so much pent up anger. you were sick of it, truthfully. and you flipped out. “why’re you so dressed up, love?” the question would usually have made your heart sink. but by now you were used to it. now you just scoffed. you were numb to the hurt of him forgetting.

“had an anniversary dinner with my boyfriend. but it seems like he forgot… again,” you spoke plainly.

“darling i’m so sorry you have to believe me,” he implored.

“it’s fine harry. really,” you shrugged as you blinked back your angry tears.

“we can… we can reschedule. tomorrow i promise,” he bit his lip hopefully.

“no. it’s fine,” you shrugged.

“okay. if tomorrow doesn’t work, we can try next week maybe?” he tried again. you shook your head again. “okay well if not next week then i’m not sure. i’ve got army meetings and ron, mione, and i have plans with hagrid. plus we’ve got the end of years coming up so i have to study. when do you want to reschedule for?”

“i don’t harry,” you answered, finally letting the dam break. two tears fell slowly down your cheeks. “i don’t want to reschedule. or try a different day because there won’t be one. it’ll just be the same thing all over again. you’ll be late. if you even care to remember that we have a date at all,” you spat bitterly.

“yn, i’m trying,” harry quickly became defensive at the venom spitting from your tongue. “i’m doing my best really, can’t you see that? i’m trying to save the world here, you’re not making it easy by being so clingy,” he spat ruthlessly.

“then let me make it easier on you, harry. you never have to worry about me again,” you offered a sad smile as you turned and began to walk away.

“you’re breaking up with me?” the sea-eyed boy was dumbfounded.

“yeah. i’m making saving the world easier on you. you won’t have to worry about a clingy girlfriend anymore. go do what you need to do and save the world harry,” you told him. “too bad you couldn’t save your relationship as well,” you sniffled as you retreated to your dorm.

it hurt you to leave harry. but you both needed it. two years of dating and an even longer relationship… and it just all went to shit. it exploded right before your eyes.

you spent the following weeks buried under your covers. sobbing your little heart out, when you weren’t in class. you knew what would come of breaking up with hogwarts’ golden boy and the savior of the world. the dirty looks. the whispers. however, what you didn’t expect… was for the whole wizarding world to hear about it.

what you didn’t expect was for the front page of the daily prophet to read in big, bold lettering: “THE BOY WHO LIVED: HEARTBROKEN.” you read through the article by rita skeeter and you were fuming. she had called you “cold” and “heartless.” and much, much nastier words that you couldn’t even repeat, all of which were completely untrue.

harry had made you out to be the bad guy, of course. the golden boy could never do anything wrong. you scoffed as you picked up the paper and stormed your way to the great hall. all conversation at the gryffindor had died down as their eyes locked on you, storming over to harry. “you LIAR!” you screamed as you roughly shoved his chest, throwing the paper down in front of him.

he raised an eyebrow as he looked down at the article. “i see no lies here,” he shrugged, causing ron, ginny, and hermione to stifle a laugh. you rolled your eyes at this. “you’re nothing but a cold. heartless. bitch,” he spat ruthlessly.

“as if! harry that’s you! you’re cold and you’re heartless! you don’t care about anyone but yourself, oh chosen one,” you spit right back.

“cold and heartless when i’m saving the world?” he raised an eyebrow as he scoffed.

“please cut your little bullshit ‘i the chosen one am saving the world’ ploy. it’s nothing but bullshit! neville could save the world just as well as you can,” you shook your head. “you’re nothing without your title harry. absolutely nothing,” you growled. you saw red. nothing but red. you were positively pissed. anger was the only thought processing in your brain. “you’re an entitled brat harry. who never sees himself in the wrong even when you break hearts.”

“then i guess we’re one in the same, aren’t we, yn?” he snarked.

“oh please. you wish harry. i don’t relate to you. i could never relate to you. cus i would’ve never treated me as shitty as you did,” you shook your head as you spoke. crossing your arms defensively as you prepared to tell the chosen one all about himself.

“i treated you so shitty and yet, i still work my ass off to continue to save your life along with everyone else on the planet. right,” he scoffed.

“cut your bullshit harry. stop with the savior of the world shit. you scared me half to death with all of the dangerous shit you did. you stick your neck out and swim oceans for people who wouldn’t even step over a fucking puddle for you! you think these people care about you? they don’t! you’re a pawn in their little war. that’s all you’ll ever be!” you scoffed again. “i don’t even know why i’m wasting my breath. you only ever listen to your fucking ‘friends’ anyway,” you put air quotes around the word as you forced yourself to keep your tears at bay.

“so what if i’m a pawn! i’m helping! you’ve had everything handed to you on a silver fucking platter you’re entire life! you’d never know what this life feels like!” he shouted back.

“that’s your problem harry! you never see anyone’s problems but your own! you weren’t even aware of the fact that you made me miserable! for weeks you made me miserable. i couldn’t even tell if i still had a boyfriend or not!” you harshly rubbed your nose on the sleeve of your robe. “i wish it wasn’t true, but now that i’m away from you, i’m somehow happier. at least i know you don’t love me anymore instead of having to wonder every night,” you shook your head.

“we’re done yn! you made that very clear when you left me after forgetting one date! why do you care so much!” he yelled.

“because it wasn’t one date harry it was multiple! hogwarts was my home harry! and you made me hate this school!” you shouted.

“so what?! we’re over yn, i’m moving on and handling it in my own way! you should too!” his face was red and the vein in his neck was protruding. all eyes in the great hall—including those of the professors’—were on the two of you.

“no! cus i don’t talk shit about you all over the daily prophet or in school for that matter! i’ve never said anything bad about you!” you yelled at him.

“well why not? apparently you have every right to since i was such a horrible boyfriend for trying to make a better world for the two of us to have a future in,” he scoffed.

you rolled your eyes and decided upon not wasting your breath at his use of that defense yet again. “cause that shit’s embarrassing harry! you were my everything and all you ever did was make me fucking sad!” you rubbed at your nose again, nearly positive that the tip of it was now rubbed raw.

“i’m sorry that you feel like i was so terrible to you. i’m sorry that i couldn’t save our relationship like i saved the world like you said,” he shook his head.

“oh don’t try to make me feel bad harry! i have a whole laundry list of good and bad things about you. but at some point the good stopped outweighing the bad,” by now the inevitable had happened and tears had begun to spill slowly over your lash line.

“really? cus it sounds like you have nothing but bad things to say,” he snarked with a small scoff.

“i mean i could list all the times you showed up on time, but it’d be empty because you never did. you ruined everything good in my life, harry. and you always say you’re so misunderstood but you’re not! you’re just a heartless, selfish, asshole!” you shoved his chest roughly. “just fucking leave me alone! and keep my name out of your mouth,” you rolled your waterlogged eyes as you walked away.

once you were in the safety of your dorm, you let it all out. you slid slowly down the closed door and pulled your knees to your chest, releasing all the sobs you held in during your screaming match. your heart broke for the second time in less than a month. you choked over sobs as your stomach twisted in pained knots, matching the feeling of your heart thumping behind your ribcage.

your everything was gone. but somehow… you were happier than ever without him.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Of Kings and Beasts  -  Seven

Pairing: King!Bucky X Princess!Reader X King!Steve

Summary: Born a bastard of the King of Orlen, you’re thrust to the West to marry the Kings. However, the greeting you get is anything but warm, and your life with the King is far from enjoyable. He knows it isn’t your fault his husband is gone, but that fact alone won’t prevent him from taking it out on you.

Warnings: Angst, Injuries, Violence, Language (Maybe)

Word Count: 3.7K

A/n: hello friends! Enjoy this plz. also idk what’s wrong but I’m having a hard time remembering things and my brain is just super mush. I think I’m like, malnourished and exhausted but I really don’t know. Goodnight though, I love you all!

THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND DARK THEMES THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING TO SOME AUDIENCES!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

Series Masterlist

~*~

“How many times must I explain this? I hardly remember anything. I could barely see his face through the snow. I know not his name nor his rank, all I know is that he was wearing the armour of a Knight.” You’re getting frustrated now as you explain for what feels like the thousandth time what happened before you ventured out into the snow.

James and Steve exchange glances.

“I did not send for her. And I know you would not trust her safety in the hands of anyone who has not fought alongside you in battle. I believe-” James stops speaking abruptly, shaking his head. He’s not sure who is trying to sabotage his marriage, and he doesn’t want them to know that he knows.

“What?” You ask softly, stepping towards him. He takes a step back and you frown. You’d thought that after the night you had spent with the man that he would be more open to having you, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

“Nat!” The redhead is in Steve’s office as soon as he says her name.

“I want you or Sam with (Y/n) at all times. You may only leave her side if you are directly dismissed by one of the three of us. Do you understand?” She nods, guilt heavy in her gut at the fact that you could’ve died because of her carelessness.

“Have Clint bring the stable boy here. I want him to give me details. I need to know who the traitor is and why they want my wife dead,” Steve says after a moment, his eyes hard at the thought of someone wanting to bring you harm.

“I’ll go,” James pipes in, avoiding your eyes as he walks to the door, closing it tightly behind himself.

Your shoulders slump and you shake your head sadly. “I had thought that after our night... we may be starting to rebuild our relationship. However, it seems as though he does not wish for that to happen.” Steve sighs, walking around his desk to wrap his arms around your frame.

“He is sad and afraid. He has not been himself for a long while, but he will come back.” Your bottom lip quivers and you curse yourself for being so emotional.

“I do not wish to be the cause of his unhappiness. At times I wonder if it would be better if I stayed away. If I allowed the two of you to continue as if I were not here at all.” Steve turns you around and lifts your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

“You are very important to both of us. If he truly wanted you out of the picture he would not have gone out to find you. You matter far too much to the both of us. He will come around again, he just needs some time.”

A knock on the door pulls your attention from him and you sniffle, wiping a stray tear off of your cheek.

“Come in.”

The door gets pushed open and a red-faced young man scurries in, his eyes focused on the ground as he bows.

“Y-you called for me, Your Majesties?” Your heart warms at the obvious nervousness.

“What is your name?” You ask, cutting Steve off. He raises his eyebrows at you and you simply smile, taking a step away from him and towards the boy.

“P-Peter, Your Majesty. A-and I did not mean for any harm to come to you. I was led to believe that the man was indeed a knight of the king and that the business transpiring was none that should involve me. I ask that you are lenient in your punishment, for I truly enjoy my position and I am so grateful that you have given me the opportunity to work here. I-” You raise your hand, silencing his rambling and looking every bit like the queen you are.

Steve watches from behind you, never having seen you truly take control of the title you have.

“You will not be punished for following the orders of someone who seemed to be an honest man. No harm came from it. We simply would like to know if you have any recollection of his name or his rank. Or perhaps a description of his appearance.” The boy stares at you in shock before looking to the King. Steve simply nods and the boy inhales deeply.

“I did not gather his name nor his rank, Your Majesty. But he seemed tall. Not as tall as the King, Mind you, but still taller than most knights. And his build was slimmer, which I found surprising. I should’ve questioned it and I will spend my days regretting that I did not because our Kingdom could have lost its queen due to my carelessness and-”

“Peter, please stay focused,” Steve says. The boy swallows hard and nods, clearing his throat before speaking again.

“He had... dark hair and dark eyes... bared no resemblance to any knight I’ve ever seen before. He lacked the composure of a knight as well. It almost seemed as if he were trying to mimic the actions of one.” You turn to Steve, brows raised at this new information.

“Thank you, Peter. That will be all.” The boy bows again then hurries out of the room.

“So someone was able to pose as a knight? But who? And why? I hardly have a purpose in the kingdom. Why did I become a target?” Steve shakes his head, wishing he had the answers of which you seek.

“I know not. But I will be bringing this up when James and I meet with the council next. Any threat against our wife is a direct threat against our kingdom, and justice needs to be served.” The mention of your other husband has your heart aching.

“Do... do you think he would talk to me were I to find him?” You ask. Steve purses his lips. James seemed so comfortable with you the other night. He hates the thought, but maybe it’s his presence that is making James so distant.

“There is no harm in trying. Have Natalia accompany you.” You nod, gathering your skirts and hurrying out of the room, the redhead hot on your heels.

“I offer you my sincerest apologies, your majesty. I should have been there.” You shake your head at her, smiling softly.

“Do not apologize, Natalia. No one was harmed.” you pause just as you’re about to walk past the glass doors leading to the gardens, a glint of silver catching your eye.

“You may wait here. I fear having any more of an audience will only have a negative effect,” you whisper, pushing the door open and venturing into the snow.

Natalia stands just outside the door, watching with her hand on the hilt of her sword as you walk down the path towards the brooding king.

“James?” You call, waiting until he looks at you.

“You should not be here,” he murmurs, his eyes closing tightly and his hands clenching into fists. He huffs out heavy breaths through his nose, the air forming a misty cloud that dissipates slowly.

“James, please. I cannot stand the distance you put between us. I am begging you to let me in.” He grinds his teeth together, his face contorting in what looks like pain before suddenly going stoic.

He’s quiet for a long moment, long enough for you to slowly approach him, fingers prickling in the cold winter air.

“James?” You ask softly, hoping he’s ready to open up to you again.

His eyes snap open and in a flash of silver, he’s got his metal hand wrapped around your throat, fingers flexing and nearly crushing your windpipe.

Your eyes widen and you instinctively grab at the metal appendage.

His face is devoid of emotion as he lifts you nearly clean off the ground, the tips of your toes hardly brushing the ground. Your lungs burn and tears of pain and discomfort well up in your eyes.

There’s a whooshing sound and then he grunts, toppling to the left and dropping you to the ground.

You collapse in a heap, hands grabbing at your throat protectively as you draw in huge lungfuls of air between painful coughs.

The sound of metal clanging against metal has your eyes shooting upwards just in time to see two swords connect above you, one belonging to the king and the other belonging to Natalia.

“Your Majesty, get back!” She shouts, her eyes on you for a brief moment.

You scramble through the snow, trying to get to the palace and call for help.

James overpowers the redhead with practiced ease, and then his murderous gaze is focused on you again.

Fear freezes you in place and you stare up at him with wide eyes while Natalia is screaming for him to stop, for someone to come to your aid.

His sword comes down right as a powerful hand jerks you to the side.

The blow that was meant to kill you draws a red line across your cheek, blood spilling out and trailing down your chin.

The hot liquid splatters against the frozen snow, melting a hole and staining the white.

For a moment you’re reminded of your place in the world. A stain against purity. A mistake.

You’re wrenched back to reality by hands yanking you backwards, away from where the two Kings fight each other, Steve with desperation and James with determination.

“Come, Majesty.” Nat helps you inside but you don’t move past the doors, heart hammering in your chest as guards rush out to help the blond king.

“Your Majesty, you’re injured. We must-” you shake your head at her, eyes far too focused on the fight.

James manages to knock Steve’s sword away but is quickly distracted by the other men, giving the blond an opportunity to deliver a nasty blow to the back of his head.

The brunet collapses in the snow, groaning and grabbing his head.

You watch with nothing but terror and tears in your eyes as he slowly pushes himself to his knees, familiar blue eyes looking around in confusion.

They land on you, blood on your cheek and fear in your eyes and he nearly throws up as he realizes what he’s done.

“James?” He shakes his head at Steve, stumbling to his feet and hurrying into the Palace.

“James!” He runs straight past you and down the hallway, disappearing after a few moments.

Steve stands in the snow, blue eyes narrowed and pink lips parted. He pants, trying to gather his thoughts while the cold air bites his cheeks and the tip of his nose.

Steve is at your side in a flash, his hand cupping your cheek and angling your head to allow himself to inspect your wound.

���Just a scratch,” he murmurs, brows drawn together as he glances to where his husband was.

Your eyes, however, are drawn to a movement in the garden.

A familiar pair of muddy brown eyes stand out against the snow and you inhale sharply.

“Steve, it’s him.” He follows your gaze to the garden,

“Guards!” He shouts, grabbing his sword and hurrying out into the snow.

“Please, your majesty. I need to tend to your wound.” You finally allow Natalia to drag you away, but not before hearing Steve mention something about the dungeon to one of the guards with him.

~*~

You toss and turn all throughout the night, missing the warmth of your husband and beyond afraid at the events of the day.

Not only were you attacked, but you also potentially caught the man who wants you dead.

The worst part? Steve has given you zero information. No matter how much you asked, he refused to say a single thing about James or the stranger in the garden.

So that is how you have ended up here, pacing through the dark palace halls in search of your blond husband.

As you’re leaving his empty office you hear a whisper of your name, followed by a soft laugh.

You frown and follow the sound, the voice beckoning you closer and yet getting further away every time you approach.

The voice leads you through the halls for what feels like hours until you find yourself in front of a wooden door that nearly blends in with the walls around it.

Steadying yourself with a deep breath, you push the door open. It creaks loudly and you instinctively look around to make sure that no one heard.

Once deeming the coast to be clear, you slowly walk through the doorway and nearly fall.

It’s a spiral staircase going downwards.

Your heart beats loudly in your ears as you take the steps one at a time, getting reminded of all the times you snuck around the Palace back home.

Through the darkness, there’s a yellow glow that you identify as candlelight.

You dare not step into the light, so instead, you stay tucked safely around the corner, ears straining to hear... anything.

You make out two voices, one of them far more familiar than the other.

“I am going to ask you one last time: who is it that is plotting against me?” Steve demands.

The other man sounds weak, his breath coming in ragged pants.

You risk a glance around the corner, eyes finding the two in the dimly lit room. Th man on the ground is bloody and bruised and you can hardly recognize him until he speaks.

“You’d best be careful who you allow into your circle, your Majesty. I serve my Kingdom, but not all who are close to you are true to their word. Is it not suspicious that so many terrible events have occurred so soon after the Queen was brought here?” Steve's hand comes down hard against the man’s face and you hold back a gasp.

“If you do not cooperate and answer truthfully, I will rip your teeth out one by one and force them down your throat.”

The man spits blood onto the ground then chuckles weakly.

His bloodied face is too much for you, and you turn on your heel and run up the stairs as silently as you can, hands trembling with fear and disgust as you realize that both kings are brutal in their own sick ways.

“You know I speak the truth. The change in your husband has only occurred since your wife has been here. Has Orlen always been a friend to us? Or have they been trying to get into our Kingdom to take what they wish?”

Steve is silent for just a moment too long, long enough for the man to know he struck a nerve.

“If you wish to kill me, do so. But remember my warning. And do not be surprised when she turns on you, too.”

~*~

He doesn’t return to his chambers for nearly an hour after that, and as much as you try, you cannot fall asleep after what you witnessed.

Sure, you expected there to be consequences, but you never imagined that Steve would torture the man with his own hands.

When he finally returns to you, he climbs into bed without noticing your stiff figure.

His arm comes around your waist as it usually would, and you try your hardest not to flinch away from him.

A single glance down shows you his split knuckles and you have to bite your lip to stop from making a noise of fear.

He falls asleep quickly behind you, and you’re horrified at how comfortable he is with being so brutal to another human being.

~*~

The King paces in his office, the question of the prisoner echoing in his mind.

He had not even considered the possibility of you being responsible for the change in his husband’s demeanour, but it only started since you came to the palace.

A weight settles in the pit of his stomach and he takes a few deep breaths to try and calm himself down.

He needs to speak to you immediately.

Just as he pulls the door to his study open, you raise your hand to knock.

“Oh!” You gasp, grabbing your chest and taking a sharp breath.

“You startled me. I was just coming to find you. H-have you any news of James?” Your eyes stray down to his split knuckles and Steve takes notice of the tension in your shoulders.

“He’s locked himself in the east wing. He refuses to speak to anyone but doctor banner,” he says, voice stiff and mechanical.

You nod slowly, stepping into the room when he steps aside and motions you to come in.

It’s silent for a long moment, the pressure nearly making your eardrums burst.

You want him to say something, anything. Explain what happened last night or what’s going on today. You’re far too terrified to ask him, however. After witnessing what you did... you do not want to anger him.

That seems to be a futile wish, however.

“Is he alright?” You try, hoping that this is a safe topic.

Steve doesn’t reply. No, instead he paces slowly around the room.

“Do you take me for a fool?” He asks, eyes finding you for the first time.

“What are you talking about?” You’re genuinely curious, trying to think of what you could’ve done to make him ask you this.

“I will ask you again, and this time you will answer. Do you take me for a fool?” He’s walking to you now, steps purposeful and intimidating, a walk that he has practiced and perfected.

You back up a step, fear coursing through your veins. “N-no, of course not. What is this about, Steve?”

“You will address me properly.” You’ve never seen this side of him before. Except for last night.

“I-I don’t think I am understanding... Your Majesty.” You’re not sure if you are more disappointed or sad, but you drop your eyes to the floor.

“Rumours have been spoken, words whispered of a traitor among us. Someone who wishes for the kingdom to fall. Someone close to myself.”

You furrow your brows, taken aback by the accusation.

“And you think me capable of that?” You demand.

He shrugs but his eyes are anything but calm. There’s a fiery storm in his blue eyes, accusation and rage simmering just beneath the surface.

“I hardly know you. It would be foolish of me to think you are anything more than a spy sent by Orlen.” Your heart hurts and you need to take a few deep breaths before you speak.

“I have been nothing but loyal to you, your husband, and your kingdom. Who might I even have to conspire with? I have not been allowed near the people, and I fear my own ladies because their loyalties lie with you.”

Your words ring with truths that even you didn’t consider until now. Steve opens his mouth to speak but you do not allow him a turn.

“I have not breathed a word of the brutalities I have experienced at the hand of your beloved. I have not even dreamed of leaving the castle walls for fear of what consequences would await such thoughts. From the moment I arrived, I have been treated like dirt and yet you stand here with the audacity to question my loyalties!”

He’s taken aback for a moment. He wants to trust you, he really does, but he just can't. Not after what the man said last night. It makes too much sense that you would do this.

“You speak of rumours... as if you do not have your own to worry about. Your brutality is spoken of throughout the continent. Clearly, the rumours hold true, for your brutality extends far beyond the lines of the battlefield. The kings show no mercy, not even to their wife in the privacy of their bed chambers.”

He grabs your forearms tightly, face full of fury.

“You will watch your tongue, woman!” You huff out a breath and shake your head, face contorting in pain as his grip tightens.

“You are so quick to accuse me when you were nowhere to be found in a time that I needed you.” His brows raise nearly to his hairline.

“Are you implying that I had a hand in that?” He demands, a vein in his forehead throbbing as he only gets more furious.

“I imply nothing, your majesty. I am simply taking note of the fact that you were conveniently away during a time when I was in peril.”

His hand comes up before he can register what’s happening, and then you’re tumbling to the floor, the crisp sound of a slap ringing in his ears.

Your hands tremble and your cheek burns. You stay rooted in place, eyes squeezed shut in fear as he towers over you.

He stands before you, chest heaving and eyes wide with horror at himself.

“Your actions only further prove my point,” you whisper, blinking your eyes open to suppress your tears.

“And do yours not prove mine?” He counters, glaring at you as you rub your aching wrists. Seeing you cower beneath him, so small and so fragile, his anger starts to melt away.

“I would like to remind you, Your Majesty, that I do not benefit from being here. I have only traded one prison for another, and I am not sure how much longer I will endure such treatment.”

He opens his mouth to speak, one hand extending to help you to your feet. His eyes find a line of red on your cheek and he glances down at his hand, the mark on your cheek matching his wedding band.

Now you have matching scratches on either side of your face.

“Do not touch me,” you hiss, glaring up at him with wet eyes.

He’s crouching down when there’s a knock on the door. Sam pushes it open without waiting for an invitation but the look on his face is enough for Steve not to snap at him.

“There’s been an attempt on Doctor Banner’s life.”

[skzflix]

passstt can you do your best to explain the ‘universe’ in depth or at least so it’s understandable bc my ass is clueless 🙃

so, this is my dumb brain linking stuff so please please take this all as what it is — my stupid brain's stupid thinking. this is also the first time i've linked it all out in order. so bear with me. this is loooong. in this universe, we have like three parts: mixtape: on track — b me — mixtape: oh. and it deals with tangled romance and the consequences it has on friendships.

MIXTAPE: ON TRACK

so in mixtape: on track, the universe sets off with the boys in high school, final year, i think. minho and hyunjin are the leads in our whole universe. jeongin is like hyunjin's best friend in this au. they are film and art majors (?) and have this project i presume to make a short film (?). chan deals with the sound, jisung with the lights, changbin with the props, hyunjin with the videography, felix is directing and seungmin is the writer. minho is the main lead in this film and jeongin is a side character in this film.

insert female lead. female lead is close friends with both hyunjin and minho. it's pretty evident that minho and hyunjin likes her and hyunjin constantly does feel bad over minho and her getting closer, because well, he likes her. this feeling turns into a distaste soon enough (as seen in how hyunjin feels pathetic after the girl takes both the drinks from them + how minho shoots the goal while playing soccer and like hyunjin and minho have this weird cold gaze exchange. in both these situations, jeongin is around to help hyunjin. i'll get to this soon.) so like our boy minho and her clearly have sparks and hyunjin dislikes it. high school jealousy, if anything.

that's when hyunjin decides to take action and while shooting, when minho has to grab the female lead's hand, he butts in and holds her hand. all because he likes her and he's done being the second lead in this story. the mv ends here.

now, about jeongin, he did mention in one of his vlive that he was like a guardian angel and i do think he's like a friend that really really cares for hyunjin and doesn't ever want him to get hurt. so the whole mv wraps up in this plot of how hyunjin takes action right when minho and the female lead are slowly getting things going for them.

UNVEIL: B ME

and then we get the unveil track of b me, (how i wish they dropped the mv for this rather!). i'll make a list of stuff that happens in b me first and then tell you how my brain linked it up.

felix with the video camera + tape

jeongin distressed with bruised face

the members reminiscing what they once had before chaos struck.

a script that has even a fool knows (alternative title to on track) written (this was my cue to link them both?)

seungmin, chan and technically the whole cast looking distressed

jisung burning the film competition form (?)

changbin in the court sad and playing alone

biker!minho + biker!hyunjin (THIS ISN'T A POINT BUT THEY ARE SO HOT IN THIS AU SHUT UP RUE!!!)

minho meets with an accident + jisung rushes to his side

angry giving up skz moments

ot8 basketball happy memories

i'm going to sit here and draft this out so again, bear with me, soooo,

i presume the hyunjin grabbing the girl's hand, ofc, did not sit right with minho because technically, minho and her were a thing almost. and that ruined the friendship. this also caused the whole film shooting to turn chaotic, i presume because hyunjin's gaze in the on track mv seemed determined so i think he wasn't ready to back off either. the filming team clearly breaks apart because of this. the tension between minho and hyunjin is still very high. the team is frustrated. jisung burns the film competition form because what's the use of joining when there's no team? changbin is sad and angry and has emotions he is frustrated over (just like the other members!!) because they aren't together as a friend circle distinctly because of the feud between hyunjin and minho. they used to play basketball together (the whole of the ending part!) but not anymore.

now, we see how minho meets with an accident. i'm a bit confused with this part (this is why we need the mv for b me, jyp!!!!) but i'll state out everything i think.

a) jisung is to minho as to what jeongin is to hyunjin.

b) the accident could be solely accidental? maybe minho ran off in a fit after an argument with jeongin and hence why jeongin has the bruises and maybe in that heat, minho could have had the accident.

c) i presume jisung rushes to help him because human guardian angel of sorts of a friendship.

anyhow, i think the small clip of video tape that felix pulls out in the beginning is what they watch together. i do not think this has any correlation to the intense story besides adding the fact that they were reaaaaaaally close because they all look super happy in that shot, omg!!

MIXTAPE: OH

and now here we are, mixtape: oh. (watching and pausing the mv to go as detailed as i can with my storytelling.) this, since it was a mv, we get a story as solid as the first one (thank you, jyp. i hate you generally but thank you for this.)

so we have all the members in the drama club room. the same room we saw in the first mv i think. everyone's gathered back there, picking up their stuff because they have graduated, except for changbin and hyunjin who haven't come. jeongin searches and hopes expectantly for hyunjin to come. the blue certificate kinda thingy (I have no idea what it is. i don't read korean either and my google translate couldn't pick that up :((() is something of hyunjin's and i think minho did want hyunjin to come to this sort of reunion because he gets angry and picks up the blue thingy. he's either mad at that, or he is still mad at what happened in the past. i'm not sure. either ways, jisung is worried too as to what minho is going to do and over what he is feeling. oh, also, minho is in a cast, which means it does go exactly in the order i mentioned !!!

we then see hyunjin (shit, i cried again!) and he's painting an eye (is this a relation with some other skz song i will never know) and i think he took up art after dropping from film club so like he could distance himself from the rest of them, because well, he was 1/2 of the reason why this all happened.

we have the members reminiscing again, thinking about the good times and bad ones too. jeongin is in a tunnel (the boy is always in a tunnel. is this again a link to other mvs i do not know) and changbin goes to the drama club room all alone after everyone leaves and like i think he removed the sign of the drama club room and in my head, it's a symbolism for how everything has finally ended. all the memories they have had had finally ended with their graduation, of sorts, in that moment for him. jeongin, who is in the tunnel calls for hyunjin, like a last thread of hope he clings on to, expecting for him to finally meet them and come back to them. hyunjin doesn't pick up the call.

minho is still packing things up and as he looks through stuff he sees a calender with their anniversary date marked and he remembers of the team together once again. everyone really badly misses the old days. we see jeongin who goes to buy that drink again that he stole from hyunjin in the on track mv and he remembers felix in that moment.

felix who is in the library is with a cake. so i presume it is his birthday because he lights the candle on the cake up eventually. i think he did want to celebrate it with the team as a whole but because of the fall he can't. he opens a book and see the quote, "dreams come true to those who really want them," (we see this on the jisung bus stand shot too btw!!) and he goes on to make a wish on his cake and ie think he wished for them all to be together once again, living the happy memories again. hence the beautiful shots in the end I AM IN LOVE.

so i had this sorta ex lmao who told me this beautiful metaphor once when we broke up about how i left him on the bus of our memories and it was only i who got down and that our timings didn't match. and i think my brain instantly correlated those two, oops. so like the bus is a train of thoughts, a passageway for them to remember the happy memories. changbin remembers the happy memories he had as he looks through hsi phone with the basketball in his hand. jisung also enters the bus and remembers the moments they shared. oh, also changbin leaves when jisung enters. the timings don't match.

TIMESKIP. because this is based off kdramas for sure and what are kdramas without timeskips lmao.

minho's arm is healed. (he's also wearing such a pretty fit i want to steal!) minho goes and tried to meet hyunjin at his art studio because he wants to give it a try, this whole friendship again, i think, but hyunjin isn't there. so he leaves him a note and the certificate (??) blue thingy (?? what is it someone help me!) hyunjin comes back to see them both. this is what happens in the mv, in correlation with the other mvs.

they could clearly make another part of them actually getting together. but personally, i think they do and like felix's wish comes true because the directing is such that they end it with felix opening his eyes. (i also don't want to think of a sad alternative where felix opens his eyes only to remember reality is still the same and the feud still exists. i refuse. in my head, the next part has them coming together just like that in the snow!)

but yes, if you've reached till here, thank you for reading my incoherent mess of thoughts. ily and i hope you have a good day! 💕

[boldlyvoid]

Only Time Will Tell | Part 2

18+

Summary: Fifteen years after a horrible breakup, Y/N and spencer figure out that time can heal almost everything.

Content Warnings: angst, parental death, mentions of cancer and suicide. Bi reader, bi spencer, recounting childhood relationships, slight angst, spencer's headaches, abusive relationships (not spencer and reader) blood tests, spencer's addiction issues, getting together, smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, switch spencer, sub reader, smut (not super graphic)

Word Count: 6.5K

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

When she wakes up she’s incredibly confused. She stares up at the bumpy stucco ceiling and Spencer laying on her chest and it feels like she’s gone back in time. He’s so snuggled into her, but her body is different than when she was 15, a lot different. He has a handful of one boob and his face on the other and she just shakes her head at the sight.

She kisses his forehead and strokes his hair and she lets it happen, because this is how she’s wanted to wake up every single day for the past 15 years. She’s spent just as long away from him as she’s spent loving him and she never realized how much it would hurt to think about it when she got him back.

She expected all the pain to go away, and while she’s a doctor and she knows way too much about the human brain, she still expected him to make her instantly happy. It wasn’t going to happen like that. Yes the hormones and endorphins were going to help, hugs and kisses and cuddles, sleeping beside him and hopefully sex… all those would contribute to making her feel happy, but at the end of the day her depression was always going to sit in the corner and attack when she was the most vulnerable.

Even with her last crush, it was good until she was alone. She’d cuddle with her all night with her lips pressed to her shoulder, wishing more than anything that she could feel that good forever… and it faded away when she realized she’d never have her. Unlike how she feels with Spencer right now.

He starts to wake up, also confused she guesses because he pulls away and sits right up with wide eyes and a horrified look on his face that just makes her laugh. “It’s fine, lay back down,” she pulls him back in and he settles, but the hand that was on her boob is now on her arm and he doesn’t say a word.

“How was your sleep?” She eventually asks, it’s the slightest whisper as she runs her fingers over his back the way he liked when he was younger.

“Really good,” he whispers back, “I haven’t slept this long in probably 15 years.”

“That makes one of us,” she smirks, “I sleep so much, it’s never refreshing but I sleep a lot.”

“I have really bad headaches, and no one can give me answers for them, I want to sleep but normally I can't.”

“What do you mean no one has answers?” She feels a little defensive, “have you had a brain scan or done blood work?”

“I’ve done it all,” he sighs, and she lifts him off of her.

“Do you have them here? Can I look?” She starts to worry for him, wanting to see everything she can and help him.

“Yeah,” he gets out of bed and rummages through his things, pulling out a few manila folders.

She grabs her phone and turns the flash on, laying it face down on the bed and shining up towards the ceiling, she takes out his MRI, a CT scan and holds them over the light one by one. “Your gray matter is so thick…”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“You’re a genius, tell me what gray matter does,” she teases, remembering how she used to use him as a google before Google was even invented.

“It's found throughout the central nervous system and controls movement, memory and emotions…”

“You’re a genius, I’ve always wondered how it would look,” she is fascinated with these normally, but Spencer’s is her favourite so far. “Your brain looks good, there’s nothing alarming, nothing out of the ordinary, but that doesn’t mean it’s all working right.”

He just hums along, she places them all back in their folders and opens his folder of paperwork, reading all his blog tests, “this is just basic stuff?”

He nods, “they won't test anything without reason.”

“Come to my lab? I’ll run every test in the book, you’re technically a schizophrenia research candidate so no one will care.”

“Really?” He looks almost excited, “I can take the morning off?”

“Okay,” she smiles, “let’s get ready then.”

She makes a phone call in Spencer’s kitchen, he’s still in the shower but Y/N’s completely dressed and ready for the day with the little supplies she brought in her bag. But she needs help.

“What?” The man answers first.

“It’s just me, put her on.”

“I’ve got this—Hello,” her best friend snatches the phone from him and answers with a smile she can hear, “how are you, bestie?”

“Hi Maeve,” she whispers with a smile.

“Why are we whispering?” She teases, “are you at someone’s house?”

“Yes,” she smiles, “I’m at Spencer’s.”

“No fucking way…” she whispers, “why didn’t you call me after your coffee date on Tuesday? I was so excited to hear about it.”

“I tried, but Bobby picked up and said you weren’t available,” she replied with a deep sigh, not hiding the fact that she hates Maeve’s fiancé.

“Oh,” she sounds ashamed and it makes Y/N feel bad for her, “well, how’d it go?”

“Good, we had a very PG13 sleep over the way we used to, It was nice waking up with him again, but I’m taking him into work today to do some blood work, I was wondering if I could send you some of his results? He’s getting headaches that he says are pretty debilitating?”

“Hmm, I’m free this morning once Bobby leaves for work, has he had any prior tests? I can come by and meet my best friend's best friend?” Maeve all but begs, that same pleading tone in her voice that Y/N loves.

“Of course, I’d never turn down a visit from you, I’ve missed you a lot,” she smiles at the floor, “and you’re really going to like Spencer.”

“I’m sure I will, do you think everything’s going to work out between you two?”

“I’m not sure yet,” her smile fades at the admission, “I don’t want to get my hopes up, but given the fact he texted me worried for my well-being and he’s been so adamant about hanging out… I’d like to say things are going back to normal.”

“Awe,” she swoons, “I love stories like this, you know that. I’m so glad you’re finally talking to him again, I thought I was going to have to bring you into my marriage, sister-wife style, in order to make you happier.”

“You could still leave Bobby for me,” she teases. “If this doesn’t work out, I still need a wife?” She teases and Maeve laughs and it makes her smile wide and toothy.

“Okay, I’ll think about it,” she whispers, “I’ll see you at work? In like an hour?”

“Do you want a coffee? We’re probably going to stop on the way,” Y/N offers, finally looking up from the pattern in the kitchen tile to see Spencer standing in the doorway.

“Just my usual,” she can hear Maeve’s smile, “but I’ll see you then, bye, love you.”

“Love you too,” she hangs up and stutters as she looks at Spencer, “I didn’t hear the water turn off?”

He’s standing there in a dark purple towel, one around his waist and one tightly wrapping his hair, he looks silly but she loves it. “Who was that?”

“My best friend,” she presses her lips together awkwardly, “she’s a geneticist, and if you have a deficiency causing these headaches she’s the best one to figure it out.”

“Thank you for caring this much,” it sounds so sad, she can tell he’s not used to this kind of effort being put in for him anymore.

“I’m very used to protecting you, it’s not something I can drop, even after fifteen years,” she reminds him, “I hate to think that you’ve had to do it alone for so long.”

“It’s been hard,” he agrees. “How is this going to work?”

“What?”

“Being best friends? Because as much as everyone on my team says they’re my best friend, I don’t feel close enough to anyone to give them that title anymore, not since I stopped talking to you,” it’s a lot to take in at a quarter to 8 in the morning.

Her eyes just go wide and she feels so bad for him, but at the same time, he did that to himself. He could have reached out, he could have stayed. There are lots of things he could do, and now the only thing she wants to do is let it go.

“Maeve means a lot to me, you’ll like her,” she steps into his space and pokes his wet chest, “she’s the only woman in her field, I’m the only woman in mine, we met at a talk a few years back and she’s been my person for so long.”

“Why couldn’t she go to get the time capsule with you?”

“She can’t leave the state,” Y/N admits, “she has a stalker and she won't tell me much, she doesn’t want me involved, she’s a little scared. And Bobby won't even let her answer the phone anymore, she’s why I reached out. She believes in fairytales and happy endings and after everything I’ve told her she said this love story has all the makings of a romantic comedy.”

Spencer laughs, “she’s not wrong.”

“She’s always going to be my best friend, but I can have two,” Y/N suggests, looking up at him and raising a brow.

“I don’t mind sharing,” he whispers.

It looks like he wants to kiss her and she desperately wants to lean in and let him, but he backs up. “I’m just going to change and then I’ll meet you back out here.”

“Yeah, course,” she lets him walk away and her heartbeat is audible in her ears.

She’ll always love Spencer, and yet a part of her wonders what would’ve happened if she had actually asked Maeve out that week before she met Bobby. Then she’d be able to go to the cops about the stalker, then she’d keep her safe all the time, and then again maybe she wouldn’t be here with Spencer trying to make it work if she was with Maeve.

It’s a lot to deal with at 8 in the morning.

She walks down to the building's garage with Spencer, he’s all dressed and ready for the day and he looks great. He dresses better than when he was a teenager, everything matches, it’s pressed and clean and he honestly could walk the runway like this.

And then she sees it.

“You still have it?”

“Shit,” Spencer whispers, “we can take the subway or a cab or something if this is triggering at all?”

“No,” she assures him, “I’m not triggered, just shocked that Amy still runs?”

“I’m an engineer, remember? I know how to keep her going.”

She runs her hand along with the blue paint of Diana’s old Volvo Amazon, who they appropriately named Amy when they were kids. She looks in at the backseat, the tear in the seat is still there from when the button on her jeans got stuck, the light in the radio is still burned out, unable to tell the time. The seats are just as comfortable, she turns on just as loud as before, and she never thought she’d say she missed the smell.

They stop at a coffee shop by the university, Spencer orders first and then it’s up to her, “can I get an iced coffee and—“

“A white hot chocolate with a blueberry tea bag in it? Absolutely,” the barista smiles, “anything else today, Y/N?”

“Not today, Katie,” she smiles, taking out the normal amount and a decent tip, “how’s school going?”

“Good, thank you for that study guide, I got a 92 on my last Bio test,” she’s unbelievably giddy and it makes Y/N’s day.

“that’s amazing,” Y/N makes the most basic small talk before joining Spencer by the counter.

“How do you know everyone?” Spencer whispers and nudges her shoulder with his own.

“I talk to people,” she nudges him back, “you’d be amazed by what happens when you let people in.”

Spencer hums, they watch Katie make their drinks carefully and quickly, putting them in a tray and handing them to Y/N with a smile. “Have a wonderful day.”

“You too!” Y/N calls back and waits for Spencer to get the door for them.

And then he opens the passenger door for her too. “So, I have to ask…” Spencer says as they finally get back in the car. He places his coffee in the cup holder, “were you and Maeve together at some point?”

“No…”

“Oh,” he drops it when he realizes it’s not a question she wants to be asked.

The rest of the drive is quiet, she sips her coffee and looks out the window and he taps the steering wheel the way he always used to do. “Have you dated anyone in the last 15 years?”

“Not really,” he shrugs, “I have been on dates but nothing’s really worked out.”

“Hmm,” she says before she drops it.

Pulling into her work, he parks in her spot and the two of them get out and begin their walk to the elevators and then he asks another question.

“So you haven’t dated or been with anyone since we broke up?” He looks a little shocked.

“Not really,” she shakes her head, “I don’t feel the need to? I’m not lonely, I’m busy.”

“Oh.”

The elevator dings and she walks out first, through the main hall and towards the lab. She puts on her coat and hands Spencer a blank one, “these are my Ph.D. candidates.”

Inside she has 4 students all dressed up and doing their work and Spencer waves awkwardly as they look up at him. “Good morning guys.”

“Morning doctor,” they reply in unison.

“My friend Spencer here has a genetic predisposition for schizophrenia so I’m just going to run the basic tests but he’s not going to be in any of the trials.”

“Sounds good,” one of them smiles.

“We’ll be in here if you need me,” she points at her office and Spencer follows her inside. “Oh, and Maeve is coming in as well, tell her to come right in.”

“Why? How many people have you slept with?” She suddenly closes the door, resuming their conversation immediately.

“Including you,” he does the calculations on his fingers, letting out a deep breath he was keeping in. “Elle, Ethan, and a handful of one-night stands…”

“That’s not too bad,” she shrugs and then she can’t help but laugh, “but Ethan? Really?”

Spencer nods with a smirk, “I told you I would one day.”

She laughs, remembering how much they hated each other. Ethan was a pain in the ass, flirting with both of them to piss the other off, especially when they were all on opposite mathlete teams… but Spencer did have a crush and she was secure enough in their relationship back then to just laugh it off, like she is now.

“How did it even happen?” She asks, taking out all the supplies from the cupboard, and returning to him with an elastic band.

“I went to see him in New Orleans because I was addicted to drugs and he’s an alcoholic and I wanted him to tell me not to waste my life away because no one else was going to do it.”

“Wait, addicted? I thought it was just the one case?” Her whole body reacts, her heart drops and her breathing changes and she worries for him in a way she hasn’t felt in years. “Do you want me to do this in your hand so you don’t get triggered?”

He shakes his head, “no, it’s fine,” and then he takes a chip out of his pocket, “it was nice to not feel anything for a while.”

He hands it to her, it’s a 5-year chip and it makes her smile. “I’m always going to be proud of you.”

“I know.”

She hands it back to him and he puts it back where it belongs and the conversation dies there as she takes his blood and he looks away. She has a few vials, she puts his name on them and turns back to him. “Can I ask who Elle is?”

“She was on my team,” he presses his lips together and she knows there’s more in there.

“And?”

“She was shot and had terrible PTSD after, I checked on her one night and she was drinking and we got to talking about her feelings and she didn’t want to be alone… the next night she killed a serial rapist and claimed self-defence but I know she killed him because we couldn’t get justice for his victims. She put justice into her own hands, and then she left.”

“Do you live in a soap opera?” She teases, “damn, okay. I mean good for her, she probably thought if she was going to prison at least she could get some dick first.”

“That’s what I thought for a while too,” Spencer nods along, only slightly sad. “But then I thought about what I did to you, and I figured she didn’t need a reason to sleep with me and leave me, sometimes it just happens and there isn’t a good reason.”

“It’s different for boys,” she combats. “And you weren’t a virgin then, you were what? 24? You were almost a full-brained man.”

“I know.”

She needs to let it go, she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, “sorry.”

“You’re not wrong. The damage I must have caused isn’t something that heals fast,” he explains and it starts to feel like a profile. “You haven’t just not slept with anyone because you don’t want to. It’s because you’re scared. We were really young, we were stupid, and I hurt you to the point where you can’t let in anyone who will leave you. I’m going to keep saying I’m sorry even though I know I can’t remove the scars, they’re always going to be there.”

“I hate you sometimes,” she whispers, turning away from him and gripping the counter. “You didn’t have to read me like that. Not everything is your fault you know, I’ve tried. I’ve wanted to and none of the people I’ve dated were good enough and the person I wanted to sleep with the most found someone else before I had the courage to do anything about it.”

“I’m sorry.”

She turns back to him with a straight face, “I wanted to feel loved more than I wanted to be fucked. You damaged my heart, not my vagina.”

He tries not to laugh, biting his lips and yet the air that leaves his nose sounds like a laugh, she turns her attention back to him, playfully outraged that he would laugh. “You’re a dick.”

“I missed you a lot,” he smiles, “and I’m really glad you reached out.”

—

When Maeve comes in, Y/N wraps herself around her so tight that Maeve laughs. “Hello lovely,” she whispers against her and Y/N’s heart flutters just a bit.

“Were you safe?” Y/N worries and brushes her hands along her arms as she looks her over. “You weren’t followed or anything?”

“No,” Maeve assures her and hugs her once more, “you look so good, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you,” she rocks her back and forth slightly and then turns to introduce her to Spencer, who’s now standing.

“This is Doctor Spencer Reid, Spencer this is Doctor Maeve Donovan, my best friend,” Y/N turns to him and Spencer looks at her like he knows her from somewhere.

“wait—

“Journal of Behavioural Psych… I’ve already seen your brain,” Maeve fills in the blanks. “I didn’t reply to your email because I knew you were Y/N’s Spencer.”

“Oh…” Spencer can’t really believe it.

“And I had no idea you have schizophrenia in your family either…” she stares at Y/N with her brows raised.

“Stop,” she whispers under her breath. “I told you.”

“It was between Alzheimer's in Texas and Schizophrenia here,” Spencer repeats. “I always thought I’d be the one to cure it for my mom, but I’m glad it’s you.”

Maeve just smiles at him and Y/N can’t stop smiling at her, it’s surreal to have her best friends meet.

They all catch up with their drinks in her office. Sitting at Y/N’s desk and sharing their stories, Spencer’s medical issues, Y/N’s flight anxiety and Maeve’s stalker.

“I actually got this yesterday…” she takes a letter out of her purse and hands it to them. “I think I’m going to dye my hair brown and move out of Bobby’s apartment. And I might hide for a bit.”

“No,” Y/N shakes her head, “we can get Penelope and the rest of Spencer’s friends to look into this, please? Please you can’t hide anymore this is too serious.”

“This is classic stalker behaviour,” Spencer says as he reads over the letter a few times. “They want to murder you and then kill themselves… do they bring this up often?”

“Yeah,” Maeve agrees. “He has a thing with suicide he’s said I should just kill myself and spare everyone the stress…”

“Wait,” Y/N stands and flicks through all her paperwork, “that girl who you turned down for a Ph.D. handed in the same thesis to me about cell deterioration in people with suicidal ideation.”

“That sounds like it matches up,” Spencer agrees. “I think I can have Penelope email you some information on the student so you can take it to the police?”

“Thank you, Spencer,” she smiles at him and Y/N can’t help but feel like a third wheel somehow.

Because of course her straight best friend, who she’s been in love with for 2 years, would meet her ex-boyfriend and be instantly attracted to him. It’s her luck. And by the way, Spencer is smiling at her, she knows he thinks she’s pretty. She’s known him long enough to remember when he looked at her like that… she clears her throat and gets them to stop making googly eyes at each other.

“We have a flight to catch soon too,” she reminds him. “I’m going to go work with my students if you two want to stay here and talk to Spencer’s co-workers.”

“Yeah,” Maeve agrees quickly. “That sounds good.”

“Can I talk to you first?” Spencer asks, pulling her into the other room and closing the door.

“What’s up?”

“You’re jealous,” he reads her just as well as she reads him.

“And you think she’s pretty,” she bites back. “I’m not jealous, I’m envois. I wished for a very long time that she would love me back and all it takes is a single smile from you and she’s probably willing to leave bobby.”

“But she’s not you,” Spencer replies. “It’s not that easy for me to fall in love, you know that. It took us years to fall as in love with each other as we were and it never went away. Meeting her can’t replace how I feel about you.”

“We can’t do this now,” she stops him. “Sit on it, tell me tomorrow when we open the time capsule. Mean it when you say it, don’t just try and calm me down with your words.”

She leaves the room, walking right past Maeve and into the lab. Helping the first student to call her attention and leaving her best friends to mingle.

—

She has a nap on the plane, Spencer did too, their heads resting against each other as they slept through the turbulence and the crying babies, waking up for the landing and departure. They get a car for the weekend, and the drive to her parent's house is so, so, so quiet.

“I’m not ready for how weird this is going to be” She whispers.

“It’s not going to be weird.”

“Yes, it is,” she’s adamant.

Her bed is still there for them to spend the night in, so are her parent's and brothers' beds if he doesn’t want to sleep beside her. And the couches and the fridge and anything big that she couldn’t move out alone yet.

“Why? Because we have to sleep in the same bed again, because it’s the house with all our memories or because the time capsule has letters addressed to our kids?”

“Yes.”

They both laugh at her bluntness, “we were so hopeful back then.”

“We had no reason not to be,” he says. “Your parents were very good at reminding me that our dreams can come true if we work hard enough.”

“They were great parents,” she agrees. “I miss them so much…”

“Would it be weird if I went to the grave?”

“No,” she lets out a deep breath, “they loved you.”

He pulls onto their old street and her heart is in her stomach. She can’t believe they’re actually doing this, they’re actually together again at her parent's house. He pulls into her driveway, her dad's truck is still parked out front and it looks exactly the same as it used to.

They grab their bags, she opens the door and then they’re alone in her old house. “See,” she teases, “it feels fuckin weird.”

“It’s so cold,” Spencer whispers. “Not like freezing, it just doesn’t feel right in here.”

“I know,” she agrees, taking her things and heading up the stairs towards her old bedroom.

“It’s grey…” Spencer whispers as he enters the room. “What happened to the purple?”

“My mom was bored when she was recovering from the chemo and she wanted to paint, so we did it,” she shrugs, “it was a fun weekend.”

Spencer puts his things in the corner and somehow it feels like they’re 15 again. He used to put his backpack there, he’d kick off his shoes and dive into her bed, waiting for afternoon cuddles and a nap before dinner and then they’d do homework until her curfew when he’d walk back to his house and wave to her from his window.

He kicks off his shoes again and she just sits on the edge of her bed, watching him. He takes off his suit jacket and hangs it on the hook behind her door, another thing he remembered to do almost by instinct.

“It’s like you never left,” she whispers.

He nods, “can I tell you now that I feel the same way, that I miss being loved too.”

It’s way too early in the weekend to be here already. “No,” she whispers. “Don’t do this to me again, please? Don’t offer to love me if you’re not certain that you’ll stay.”

“No one can be?” He reminds her as he sits beside her on her bed.

“You dying and you breaking my heart are two very different things,” she replies. “It would be easier if you died.”

“How?” He looks offended.

“Because then no one else can have you,” she can’t look at him and the tears come back. It fucking sucks. It hurts and she’s embarrassed.

“It’s killed me thinking about you all these years, wondering if you ever replaced me. I spent my whole childhood dreaming about being your wife and then I had to just imagine you with someone else for the last 15 years and it sucked.”

He doesn’t reply.

She shakes the tears away, clearing her throat slightly, “we’re either together or we’re not. Pick one. I can’t be stuck in limbo anymore.”

“No, I can’t just agree to go back to how it was before,” he shakes his head, “I’m not going to live up to your expectations. We are two completely different people now, we can’t just pick up where we left off without us fighting about it. I’m never going to be the same to you as I was when we were kids because I don’t know who that Spencer is anymore. I haven’t been him for a long time and this Spencer is really bad at pretending.”

He’s more assertive now, he was never this confident to fight with her when they were kids and then again he didn’t have a reason to.

They were happy back then.

“Would you like to date again and get to know each other as we are now?” She compromises.

“What if you don’t like who I am now? What if I let you down?”

“You can’t,” she can’t help but smile. “Because even after everything that’s happened, just looking at you fills me with the same feeling it did when we were kids. You’re always going to be my best friend, no matter what, even if we don’t have the same interests anymore or if you’re a bit more annoying…”

It makes him giggle and that’s what she wanted, “see? Look at us? We can do this, we just have to talk about it. I’m open to the fact that you’re a different man now from your trauma and you’re accepting of the fact I’m incredibly damaged from mine, and that we might always be, but one day we’ll laugh about it.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be laughing,” he teases and it feels like it did back then.

“No? I’m going to bring it up to tease you then,” she warns him, “because you’re cute when you’re frustrated.”

“You’re also more annoying than I remember,” he teases her right back and moves in to tickle her the way he used to.

She’s still ticklish. And he still remembers where. He tackles her back against the bed and she tries to push him off but she’s already giggling too hard, eyes closed as she tries to squirm out of his reach. But his arms are somehow longer than before? He wraps around her and digs into her sides with a hearty laugh and then it becomes a hug.

She settles again and he’s still on top of her and her arms wrap around him. His face is in the crook of her neck and she rests her cheek on his head, brushing her jaw along his hair and breathing deeply. She’s missed this so much in the last 15 years.

“I still love you,” he’s the one to say it first and all the tension in her body drops.

“Thank god,” she sighs and holds him a bit tighter. “I still love you.”

There’s a weird feeling in the air, one she hasn’t felt in a very long time. Not since they were sitting in that field, in Spencer’s mom's car, trying to figure out how they were going to have sex in the back seat.

She kisses the top of his head gently and he kisses the side of her neck in return and her breathing hitches. So he kisses her again, this time on the pulse point and up towards her Jaw and her eyes close as she leans into the contact.

It’s been a very long time since he’s seen most of her body, and yet as he strips her clothes off and covers her with his lips, it’s like nothings changed. He did this the first time too, carefully kissing everywhere but with a lot more nerves.

“It’s been a very long time since I’ve done this,” she reminds him, “so please don’t stop.”

He laughs, kissing her cheek and looking down at her. “We’re doing this?”

She nods, “there’s no one here to stop us.”

“And no reason to stay quiet,” he teases back, looking around her room quickly, “it’s strange being back here.”

“We never actually had sex in here,” she whispers, pecking his lips softly and then realizing that’s the first real kiss they’ve shared in 15 years.

He lunges in and kisses her again, hand on her cheek as she rests back against the pillow, he slides a leg in-between her own, grinding against her softly as he kisses her, swiping a tongue along her bottom lip, he used to love making out with her.

They could make out for hours on end, hot and heavy, grinding together but never taking it anywhere. It was just as fun to them as anything else, up until they had sex for the first time. Then it was all they wanted to do, only back then they were both more scared of being caught than actually doing it, and it’s not like they hadn’t been experimenting with each other their whole lives.

They had baths together as kids, they spent a lot of time alone as children and they hit puberty at the same time… she’ll never forget the day they learned what masturbating was, they went home and tried it alone and reported right back to each other the next day.

It was always meant to happen, he was the only person she wanted to take her virginity back then. And she wasn’t mad at him for taking it and then leaving, she was mad at him for having sex with her a million more times before he left.

But he was always so delicate with her and she was just as soft with him, they loved each other and respected each other like it was second nature to them, and it was so easy to slip back into that. She knew everything he liked, he remembered what spots elicited the best responses from her. It was like they never missed a beat.

His clothes come off just as quickly as hers, she’s missed him so much over the years. Remembering their first time for far too long, thinking about him at the worst moments, typically right as pleasure overtook her. She’s been saying his name when she cums for so long it’s the only thing she knows how to do.

“Spencer please?” She whines as they grind together, her lips just as swollen as his.

She sits up and takes him with her, he kneels in front of her and she uses the free space to get off the bed and search through her suitcase. “I brought condoms for a reason,” she laughs as she hands them to him. “I figured this would happen at some point.”

“I did too,” he smirks, “but I also saw tonight that you’re on the pill?”

She nods and laughs, “you’re kidding?” She climbs back into her bed and suddenly she’s nervous, “I mean, yeah, we could? But how do I know you’re clean? You’ve slept with a lot of people since we were together.”

“6 isn’t a lot,” he retorts, “but I just thought I’d ask, I still want you to be the first person I do that with.”

“You’re asking and you can’t even say it?” She teases him, shoving him lightly and taking the condoms from him.

His whole demeanour changes then, “you’d let me fuck you raw?”

She forgets how to breathe then, simply nodding with her jaw dropped, mouth breathing, deeply, she’s shocked. She finally swallows, returning the moisture to her mouth, “yeah…”

“What else would you let me do?” He whispers, drawing her in closer until she’s sitting in his lap and running her hands down his bare chest.

“Anything,” she whispers back, “I’ve missed your touch.”

He hums, brushing his nose against hers before kissing her softly. “Do you think about me still?”

Of course he remembered when she told him that.

There was one day where he never came over, she was waiting and waiting and he wasn’t showing up so she eventually went over to get him. Finding him having an anxiety attack in his room, admitting to her and apologizing profusely for thinking about her when he masturbated the night before. He was afraid she would think he was gross and then hate him. When in reality she was thinking about him too.

She nods, “it’s hard not to when you’re the best I’ve ever had.”

“I’m all you’ve ever had,” he reminds her. Or at least so he thinks.

“No,” she shakes her head, “there was another guy in high school.”

“What?” He furrows his brows, “I thought you said you didn’t?”

“I didn’t really want to, but, I had sex with Kyle VanNuss? Do you remember him?” She asks carefully, scared that this is ruining absolutely everything when she was just so close to having him again.

“I hated him,” Spencer replies. “I’m sorry it wasn’t good.”

“it’s fine it was 12 years ago,” she laughs, “I really wanted to sleep with people, I would have loved to have been able to, but I need this first. I need to feel totally and completely safe and loved and appreciated, the way you make me feel.”

“Demisexuality is defined by—

“Don’t quote textbook definitions at me, I love you and only you and no one compares. Now if there’s a spencer-sexual term, that’s me, and that’s how I’d like to keep it,” she tries to keep a straight face but she ends up laughing and dragging him down with her.

He rests his forehead on her shoulder, arms around her waist, they’re so close and completely naked and it feels right, “this is all I want.”

She sits up a bit, reaching between them and gripping his cock at the base and he moans. He’s bigger than she remembers, he still makes such beautiful sounds as she strokes him and then she runs the head of his cock along her folds and he tosses his head back with another delicious moan.

“Put it in,” he requests.

She sinks down onto him with more ease than she thought she would, always so turned on by him, it’s easy. She bottoms out and rests back against his legs, sitting in his lap, holding him incredibly close. It feels like every single part of him is touching her and she still wants more. Reconnecting their lips, his hands move down to her hips to help her move, grinding and bouncing they make a rhythm that is completely theirs, it works and she’s so lost in him.

Moaning into his mouth, feeling his hands on her body, his chest against hers and his tongue in her mouth. It’s all she’s wanted for a very long time, and it’s overwhelming. She tries to hold herself together but it feels so good, she’s on the edge of every single emotion in the book as she rides him there.

She breaks the kiss to hold him tighter, kissing his shoulder before he picks her up and lays her back against the bed, crawling between her legs and sliding back in. It’s easier at this angle, he slides in and out so easy, his thumb is on her clit and his mouth on her breasts as she lays there, blissed out and moaning, a tear slips down her face and she quickly wipes it away.

It’s all a lot and according to him, he’s staying forever. This isn’t the last time it’ll happen, it’s actually the first of many, the first of forever, and only time will tell how long that forever lasts.

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[echotrinityme]

Flesh (StickPrice)

A/N: It's about time I wrote Toppat King Henry, and yeah the title is from the same song from Simon Curtis. So if any of you know Simon Curtis and his songs...you should know where this is going. And this was also inspired by another fanfiction about Toppat Henry, I forgot the name of the story.

Rupert was sitting in a cell for the fifth day in a row, he got captured by the Toppat Clan a couple days ago. How did he managed to get captured by the Toppats was beyond him, he was just promoted to Captain and he got captured by the Toppats! Previous captains before him will probably be laughing their asses off if they hear about this, Rupert groaned in frustration as he kept thinking about his failure.

He put his head down and pulled his knees to his chest. He hated himself that he was in here, he wants to escape but he can't. He was also wondering on why no one from the government hasn't come to rescue him yet, surely they would have done something by now.

A pair of footsteps walked to his cell while Rupert was brooding, the footsteps stopped in front of Rupert's cell. Rupert didn't even pay attention, he was still brooding. He closed his eyes and opened them again. He now saw a pair of boots on the other side of the bars, he closed his eyes again cause he knows those pair of boots anywhere. Henry Stickmin was standing in front of the cell with a smile on his face, he was obviously enjoying seeing Rupert in a cell.

"Hey you!" said Henry, still smiling as Rupert glanced up at him. "You are free to go."

Henry was pointing to the exit as he finished his sentence, Rupert stared at him indifference. "HAHAHAHA!" Henry laughed, then sighed. "Not really..."

"Not funny..." Rupert murmured, lowly.

"Oh? Isn't that what you had said to me a couple months ago?" Henry asked, he had a smug grin on his face. "Do you remember?"

Rupert did remembered that he said that to Henry, such irony that their roles were reversed now.

"The lust for freedom is so very seductive, right?" Henry said, smugly. "Nobody would like to sit behind bars for several days, months, and years. Whether your are guilty or not, I understand that all to perfectly."

Rupert stood up and glared at Henry, "Now you know what it feels like to be in my skin." Henry finished, annoyed.

Rupert ran up to the cell as Henry took a step back, Rupert griped the bars as he kept glaring at Henry. " I swear Henry when I get out of here, your brain would be splattered against these was walls." threaten Rupert, livid.

"Oh you're mad, Rupy?" mocked Henry, darkly. "What are you going to do? Get me into a secluded place and have your "way" with me? Like you did that one time to me...to teach me a lesson?"

Rupert's face fell when Henry brought up the time that he...uh...um...the time he fucked Henry. Yes, you heard read that right. Rupert fucked Henry...why? Rupert doesn't know but he regrets that day...kinda of, "God damn it, whore." Rupert growled, lowly. "You would not let that go."

"Go choke on a sandpaper cock." Henry replied, flipping the bird at Rupert. "Bye now, I have to take my leave, tata!"

"Oi! I'm not done with yer just yet!" bellowed Rupert, but he was ignored.

Rupert sat back down in cell, he sighed heavily as he resumed his position. He growled at himself as he remembered the time he took Henry to a back room at the police station and had his way with him. Henry was annoying him and Rupert tried to ignore him but Henry knows how to piss him off, Rupert had enough of him. He took Henry to a private room and he started to beat the shit outta of him, Henry fought back of course. They punch each other for a few minutes until Rupert accidentally ripped Henry's prison uniform, he ripped the top part of Henry's uniform.

They stopped for a second, panting while catching their breaths. Rupert stared at Henry's upper body, he saw old scars all over his body. Some of the scars looked old while some still looked new, Rupert kept staring at Henry's scars while the criminal was feeling awkward. Then suddenly, as if someone was controlling him. Rupert grabbed Henry by the shoulders and kissed him, Henry was shock at first but kissed back. The kiss became heated as they touched each other, then the kiss became a makeout session.

After that it was a blur for Rupert but all he remembered that Henry was on the floor, begging for him, Rupert feeling immense power, and both feeling very satisfied. After that "incident", Henry escaped and made Dave lose his job. Rupert hated Henry ever since, he thought he never had to see Henry again but life had other plans. When Rupert had heard that Henry was the new leader of the Toppat Clan, he was not surprised. Considering he's a criminal and the Toppat Clan consists of multiple criminals.

But what did surprised Rupert that he managed to get captured by the Toppat clan, he grumbled some more. He bowed his head down and covered it with his arms, he had to get out of here...but how? He then again, thought back to his tryst with Henry, he then got a dark feeling. He remembered that Henry was loving getting fucked by him...Rupert smirked darkly, oh yeah...he has a plan to get out of here.

The next day, Henry went to visit Rupert again. Henry loved it when he taunted Rupert yesterday, he loved the look on his face when he mentioned their tryst. He hated Rupert after that, he let himself get taken advantage by a cop. But...he hated to admit...he liked the feeling Rupert's cock inside him, no one knows about his tryst with Rupert, not even his Right Hand Lady. Henry walked to the cells and stopped in front of Rupert's cell. Henry glanced inside the cell and saw Rupert leaning against the wall, Rupert didn't look at him. His face was covered with his hat, he had his arms crossed.

Henry raised an confused eyebrow, "Hey, what's going on?" he asked, in confusion. Rupert thought he heard some concern in Henry's voice but he was probably imagining it.

"Oi, I got a proposition for you." replied Rupert, lowly.

Henry blinked, "Oh? What kind of proposition?" he answered, curiously.

"Why don't you come inside and I will tell you."

"Why would I do that?"

"Do you want to hear the proposition or not?"

"Hmmm."

Henry thought for a moment, something tells him that what Rupert was proposing was a trap but on the other hand, it wouldn't hurt to know about the proposition.

Henry got out his keys and unlocked the cell door, he went inside the cell. Once inside the cell, he closed the cell door. While Henry was doing that, he didn't noticed Rupert was smirking. Henry then turned around and saw Rupert actually looking at him.

"Ok...what's the proposition?" Henry questioned, again.

There was a heavy silence and Rupert didn't answer Henry, Henry was confused again as he was about to ask Rupert again but was grabbed by the collar.

Rupert grabbed Henry's collar and slammed him against the wall, Henry gasped in pain as his vision blurred. He didn't have time to fight back when Rupert was right in front of him, Rupert then started punching him. Henry punched him back, they started fighting each other.

While they punching and kicking each other, Rupert felt the dark feeling he was feeling yesterday. The feeling was intense that it burned Rupert on the inside, it was so painful that Rupert couldn't take it anymore. Rupert then slammed Henry on the floor, and pinned his arms above his head.

Henry tried to get away but Rupert was strong, Henry looked up as he panted. Rupert also panted, their faces were bruised and had blood on their faces. Rupert smiled darkly at Henry's state, it was now time to make his move. Rupert got out a pocket knife that he secretly kept hiding and started to rip Henry's clothes off.

Henry panicked upon seeing his clothes ripped off, where did Rupert get the pocketknife? He thought they got all his weapons, but apparently they missed one. Henry tried to escape again but Rupert's grip was too strong, Rupert cut Henry's waistcoat, then he cut Henry's buttons off of his white shirt. Henry squirmed as he felt his clothes being ripped apart, Henry's face became red as he felt his nipples perk off cause of the cold air hitting them.

Rupert was enjoying Henry's reaction, he then put his knee onto Henry's crotch. Henry squeaked in surprise, Rupert pressed his knee harder into Henry's crotch. Henry's eyes widened as he pulled his head back, and moaned. Rupert chuckled as he felt himself get hard as a rock, he also felt himself getting warm.

Rupert put down his knife and started taking off his top uniform, which was difficult cause he was using one hand while the other was keeping Henry in place. But he managed to get off his uniform, Rupert then used his uniform top to tie Henry's hands up.

After he finished doing that, he took off Henry's boots. Henry tried to kick him but Rupert immediately stopped him from doing that. Rupert's pants was getting tighter by the second, his "friend" was getting impatient and so was he.

Rupert thought "fuck it" as he unbuttoned his pants, Henry's eyes widened some more. After Rupert unbuttoned pants, his underwear was exposed, and it was doing a very poor job of hiding his cock. Rupert then unbuttoned Henry's pants, which also did a poor job of hiding Henry's cock.

Rupert took off Henry's pants and spread his legs, Henry trembled a bit. Rupert saw this as he smirked, Henry was nervous as hell. Rupert used some of his spit to put on his fingers, he then put two fingers into Henry's hole. Henry hissed in pain as he felt Rupert's fingers inside of him, he tightened up as Rupert started scissoring him.

Rupert kept scissoring him despite Henry being tight, Henry groaned in pain and pleasure as he was being scissored by Rupert. Once Rupert was done scissoring him, he positioned himself in front of Henry's hole. Without warning, Rupert thrust inside Henry. Henry pulled his back as he screamed, he wrapped his legs around Rupert's waist.

Rupert didn't wait for Henry to adjust as he started thrusting in and out. He moaned in ecstasy as he felt Henry tighen around his cock, Henry wrapped his arms around Rupert's neck. While Rupert was thrusting inside Henry, Henry felt liquid running down his thighs and legs.

It was not cum, it was blood. Henry screamed in pain as Rupert thrust deeper, Rupert chuckled darkly at Henry's pain. "Ha!" Rupert exclaimed, happily. "You're enjoying this, are you?"

Henry was about to reply when Rupert hit Henry's prostate and he screamed again. Rupert covered his mouth with his hand, "Nuh uh." Rupert said, sharply. "You don't want no one to hear you now...do you?"

Henry froze for a moment, "After all, you don't want your clan members seeing their leader get fucked by a merely Government dog." Rupert continued, wickedly. "Do you?"

Henry still froze, Rupert had a point. He didn't want any of the Toppat clan members seeing him like this, especially Reginald Copperbottom, Right Hand Man, and Ellie Rose. He didn't want to feel humiliated cause they saw him get taken advantage of by a government dog.

Henry glanced up at Rupert who waited for an answer, Henry bit his lip and nodded vigorously. Rupert smiled at Henry's answer as he kept thrusting deeper, Henry dug his nails into Rupert's back. He scratched him from Rupert's shoulder blades and down his back.

Rupert went faster as he put his face on Henry's neck, Henry felt Rupert's hot breath on his neck. Rupert then bit Henry's neck, making Henry cried out in pain. Rupert bit hard as he broke Henry's skin to draw blood, Henry moaned in pleasure as he felt Rupert licked his blood.

"Heh. Yer enjoying this? Yer whore?" Rupert taunted, as he was groaning.

"Y-Y-Yes!" exclaimed Henry, in ecstasy.

"Yer can never resist my cock in yer, slut."

"Aggh! H-h-hah!"

"Look at you...moaning like a bitch in heat...come on... beg for my cock."

"U-u-uh! O-oh g-god...fuck!"

Rupert was getting more hard as he heard Henry moaning like crazy, he then felt Henry licked his neck and cried out in pain as Henry bit his neck. Henry bit Rupert's neck hard that he broke his skin, he licked up the blood. Henry felt his back having pain and he knew that it's gonna hurt the next day, but he doesn't care.

Rupert got his pocketknife again and started making cuts all over Henry, "Beg for my cock!" Rupert snarled, like a wild animal.

"P-P-P-please! G-give me y-y-your cock!" Henry replied, voice high pitched.

"Heh...since you asked so nicely~"

Rupert kept going faster, harder, and deeper. They were both drowning in lust, pleasure, and ecstasy. Rupert kept giving Henry some cuts until he stopped, he put his knife down as Henry kissed him. Rupert kissed back, and their tongues fought for dominance. Rupert won as he felt himself getting close, Henry was getting close too, judging by how he tighten around Rupert's cock.

Then a few moments later, they both climaxed. Rupert spilled inside Henry as he pulled his head back as he saw stars, Henry's cock splattered cum all over his stomach. Henry's vision went black for a moment, his vision returned when he felt Rupert still cumming inside of him. Rupert groaned as he kept cumming, he felt Henry milking him out and chuckled lowly at that.

They both stayed in that position, they were both panting and sweating. Rupert pulled out as Henry winched in pain, Rupert saw there was blood and cum dripping out of Henry. Rupert sighed as he stood up to put his clothes back on, Henry wasn't even paying attention to Rupert.

Rupert finished putting on his clothes as bent down to look at Henry once more, he then spotted Henry's keys and grabbed them. Rupert headed to the cell and opened it. Before he left, he turned around to find Henry sitting up and dazed.

"Oi." called out Rupert, softly as he watched Henry try to cover himself with his cape.

Henry glanced up at Rupert in a dazed state, "Thanks for the keys, rat." Rupert cackled, evilly. And then he left, leaving Henry all alone.

Henry stared at the entrance of the cell as his whole body hurt, he trembled as he felt his vision blurred with his tears. He let himself get taken advantage of again! How could he be such an idiot! Henry closed his eyes as he covered himself with his cape, he had such bad luck.

He then started to sob quietly, why did it feels so good but hurts so bad?

A/N: Does anyone want to join me in hell?

Also, this is for Blue_Fanlady as a gift! Happy Birthday! I hope you enjoyed this!

Btw, for those of you who watches the web series, Helluva Boss, there's a reference here to the series.

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper Pt. 4

Pairing: Eventual Frankie Morales x Reader Warnings: Injury, swearing, mentions of ptsd and drug use Length: 2k Notes: Hello my Freaky Darlings! I was watching The Martian while writing this and didn’t edit so bear with me and forgive errors!

Part One, Two, Three

Damn your stubborn pride. Damn it, and your swollen wrist, all to hell. Now that you were back at home, nursing your previously ignored injury, it was easy to forget why you had felt the need to work through the pain. Prime harvesting season was ending and all the old farmers in town were predicting an early frost. Knowing how this would destroy any unpicked apples, you had worked hard all day.

Frankie had grumbled at you once, an hour into the workday when he saw you emptying your half-full basket into one of the tractor-pulled bins. You didn't feel like explaining your stupid injury, or risk drawing his memory to when you eye-fucked him, so you just grumbled back an assurance that your total count would be the same.

He was slightly more attentive than usual, and you were worried he had read more into your glances than you had meant. Because, you still hated the guy, right? His... what was it again? Arrogance? Yes! That was it. 

Not wanting to encourage any more misconceptions, and still trying to hide your damn swollen wrist, you worked through your breaks and barely stopped for lunch.

Frankie had finally put his foot down when Jacquie had arrived with stew and biscuits for dinner, forcing you off the ladder and stashing it away to make sure you didn’t get the idea to head up again that day. 

You had successfully hidden your swollen wrist from him but knew that Jacquie had a much keener eye. So while you were remiss to leave the company of your friend you begged off dinner, citing exhaustion, and went home.

Now though, with a meal that paled in comparison to Jacquie’s cooking, and your bound wrist on ice, you wished you had stayed.

That is until you remember the moment when you had stared at your boss's lips for an inappropriately long time. With a groan, you decided to leave the dishes for tomorrow, just wanting to bury your head under your blankets and try to bury your embarrassment as well.

The sound of rain pelting against the window woke you a few short hours later. You would have just gone back to sleep but the memory of leaving a few windows open forced you out of bed. By the time you made it downstairs, the gentle rain had turned to a downpour of sleet and you could feel the cold air blowing through the house.

Your mind immediately went to the orchard. If this storm got any worse, a sizeable section of un-picked trees would be rendered worthless. Grabbing your boots and discarded coat off the floor, you rushed to your truck with freezing rain stinging your face. It wasn't until you were near the end of the driveway that you realized you hadn't closed any of the windows.

That wasn't what caused you to slam on the brakes, though. Frankie's truck had just turned down your driveway, fishtailing around the bend as he barely slowed down in his hurry. Seeing you at the last minute, he braked hard but the slush already accumulating on the ground caused him to skid. The impact wasn't hard but your smaller truck wouldn't be road-worthy any longer.

Wrenching your doors open and coming around the assess the damage Frankie was swearing while you were trying to decide whether to laugh or cry.

"What the hell are you doing?" Frankie called to you from across your crumpled hood.

"Me? ME?!" You countered, voice becoming shrill from panic and stress. "What the hell are YOU doing?!"

"Coming you help you and save your damn house from this storm!" He yelled back, giving a little jump and waving his arms out of frustration. It would have been comical under different circumstances. "This is gonna flood your fuckin' house!"

"Your orchard!" You were hollering now "This is going to ruin the rest of the apples!"

Jerking his head back Frankie looked at you with confusion, "What the hell are you worried about them for?"

His query forced you to stop and wonder that for yourself.

"I-" you stuttered, feeling a little silly "I don't know? Are you really going to argue with me though?! We've wasted enough time..."

Heaving a sigh, Frankie jerked his head towards his truck and growled, "Get in."

In a desperate bid to save as much of the fruit as possible, you and Frankie laid tarps down under as many trees as you could. Shaking the branches caused the ripened fruit to fall and you just prayed the rest would survive the sudden storm which had now turned to snow.

Working together you dragged each tarp towards the tractor and took turns driving the filled bins into the barn. It wasn’t a heated cab but still a nice respite from the blizzard.

By five a.m. you had done as much as possible and the adrenaline that had once been surging through the both of you had long faded. The snow had now slowed to a light drizzle but the ground was a slippery, muddy mess, as so were the both of you. Once Frankie noticed the shivers that wracked your body he ushered you into the barn and up the side stairs into his loft.

“It’s not much but it’s enough.” was his way of welcoming you into the space. It was cozy but lacking in luxuries or personal touches.

While Frankie got busy making tea and warming soup in the kitchen you explored the loft. It was one large room broken into three basic areas: his bed in one corner with a small bathroom just off the side, a kitchenette along the opposite wall, and a couch flanked by rocking chairs faced a fireplace at the end. Making your way over to the fireplace you intended on getting a fire going but were distracted by the photos decorating the mantel.

“You served?” Your voice came out sounding loud and strained, not at all the casual way you had intended. Frankie had been gruff with you but never unkind, however, seeing photos of him in uniform instantly raised your hackles. It was an automatic response from being reminded of your husband and you hated it.

Shaking the thought of Brad from your mind, you realized Frankie hadn’t answered and was just standing next to you, staring at the photos with a blank look on his face.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried” you spoke softly, not wanting to spook him from his reverie.

You had seen that far-off look on your husband’s face when he had been home between tours. It had always been best to stay quiet and out of sight when he had gotten like that.

Frankie took a sudden step in your direction. That movement, mixed with the current memories swirling in the forefront of your brain, caused you to reflexively throw your arms up to cover your face. Hot tea spilled out of the mug Frankie had been passing to you and immediately burned the skin on your hands and arm.

“I’m sorry!” you cry out, immediately, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Tears were spilling down your cheeks and you had instantly curled up, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

“Shhhhhh, no, nononono, shhhhhh” Frankie was frantically trying to reassure you while simultaneously trying to get close enough to assess how bad the damage to your skin was. He seemed to know that you were feeling unsafe so he made himself small and lowered himself to the floor. “That was completely my fault, right? Can I see?”

Taking a deep, shuddering breath you calmed yourself enough to see the warmth and worry in his eyes. Your heart immediately constricted for an entirely new reason when you noticed his posturing, how he had made himself smaller than you and had his hands out wide where you could see them, waiting for you to show him the severity of the burns.

This man had dealt with PTSD before. 

Nodding, you reached out both hands for Frankie to take and tried to swallow the embarrassment you felt from your little breakdown. That emotion was quickly forgotten, however, when Frankie finally got a look at you and noticed, for the first time, just how swollen your wrist was.

“What happened here?” he asked, sternly “Were you working all day like this?”

“It’s nothing,” you assured him, trying to pull your hands out of his firm but gentle grip, “just a little mishap from this morning. Don’t worry, though, I was able to work just fine.”

He let out of huff of frustration. “You think I’m worried about how many apples you picked? Jesus Christ, you must think I’m the biggest asshole around.”

“No,” you said quietly, still trying to calm down but also wanting to relieve the tension, “that title belonged to my husband. You,” you continued, ignoring the way his head snapped up to your face then back down to check your bare ring finger, “are just the biggest grump around and it’s intimidating.”

Frankie was silent again and watched his jaw tic as he digested this new information. He was still staring at your hands, cradled in his. The bright red hue of your skin must have jarred him from his thoughts because he quickly but carefully stood up, pulling you up with him, and ushered you towards the kitchen. As you sat on the counter with cold tap water flowing over your burning skin, Frankie flitted about searching for salves and gauze to protect the skin once it had been sufficiently cooled. You tried to reassure him that you would be fine but he wasn't hearing it.

He was talking now, hadn't stopped rambling, but of nothing consequential. You had a feeling there were a lot of secrets stored in his heart but knew you weren't in a position to be trusted with them. You found yourself wishing that you were. You hadn't realized you were nodding off, the strain of the past 24 hours finally catching up on you, until Frankie had called your name for the fourth time. He was, respectfully, keeping his distance not wanting to startle you again, but hovering close enough by to catch you if you slumped over in your doze.

"Come on," he murmured sleepily, "let me take you home. We're not getting any more work done here for a while so take a few days to rest."

"Oh Christ," you guffawed in a very unladylike manner, "how did I forget?"

"It looks worse in the light of day." Frankie chimed in, ruefully.

The two of you sat in the idling truck staring at the crumpled hood of your poor truck, which was inconveniently blocking your driveway.

"I'll call for a tow."

While he was on the phone he climbed out of the cab, assessing the damage and trying to figure out how much this was going to cost him. A few minutes later he made his way back into the warmth of his truck, "He won't be here till tomor-". Frankie let the sentence trail off once he noticed you'd fallen asleep, bundled up in the fleece jacket he had lent you. Sitting back in his seat, watching the sunrise dance across your face, Frank took a moment to think about everything that had transpired in such a short amount of time.

Closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the seat, he figured he'd let you sleep for a few more minutes before making you wake and have to walk the rest of the way to your house.

"As I live and breath..."

Jacquie's jubilant voice woke the both of you with a start. It was evening and Frankie's truck had been idling in your driveway for nearly 8 hours with the two of you passed out cold in the cab. At some point, you had shifted and were resting against Frankie's chest, his body turned toward yours and his arms wrapped tightly around you.

"Mark!" She continued to yell, "You owe me fifty bucks!"

PART FIVE