#i really love that the thin man and the lady are both the most normal looking people in the nowhere

[gingersn4pp]

I love your thin man comic. And it makes so much sense. That mono’s heroism and drive to save others would get amplified and twisted as the thin man.

YESS thank you so much!!! You could say it was twisted by the transmission much like six was, but in his own escapist fantasy of heroics and adoration...though admittedly I think time and loneliness and agony are more than enough to make a monster out of anyone, no otherworldly forces necessary. (Though it certainly does help~)

The Thin Man rly encapsulates a lot of my favorite character tropes, being twisted by what once could have been called love and care, losing yourself to an image, a personification of what you wish to be, desperately reaching for ...what is it? Control? Attention? Connection, beyond the parasocial?

Who knows. I just think he's neat

[maluustrawberry]

"My biggest treasure"

(Túlio X Fem!Reader X Miguel)

(The road to El Dorado fanfiction)

{Part. 1}

A/N: HOW NOBODY WROTE A FIC OF RTED?? Don't ask me why, but I really wanted to write a fic about them after watching again. (It's my favorite movie after The Emperor's New Groove) I was undecided which character to write (I love these two so much) so I decided to do both and you readers will decide, {Túlio X reader} will be a relationship between enemies to lovers and {Miguel X reader} will be friends to lovers. You who will decide, remembering that if there is any error, you can correct me. Good reading 🤗.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

It was just another normal day in Barcelona, Spain in 1519, and things weren't looking too good in the city, especially for Isaac, or rather Y/n. As we all know, we were still in the 16th century where theft and machismo were still commonplace. Y/n wasn't like the other women who accepted this quietly and whose only job was to serve her husband and look after the house. She liked to be free and not depend on anyone, earned her own money by disguising herself as a man to work on an export ship, it was her only way of earning money since women weren't allowed in jobs and especially jobs like these. She had to be a man to work and a woman to walk around quietly when she weren't working.

Today you'd find yourself at the market in the center of town, buying your things with the money you'd earned through your efforts, luckily in the eyes of others it was your "husband's" money.

You were at the fruit stand choosing apples to buy and take home, until a man bumped into you by "accident," he was thin, tall, wearing a blue shirt, his black hair was tied up in a ponytail:

“Sorry, Señorita.” The man said as soon as he bumped into her and continued on his way in a hurry.

You were a clever woman, and the way he bumped into you in such a hurry made you suspect what he was about. You quickly put your hand in the pocket of your dress where your money bag and your diary should have been, which was one of your most precious possessions, and unfortunately they were no longer there, the only thing that went through your mind was that you had been robbed by that man. It wasn't going to stay that way, you wasn't going to lose the money who had fought to get and the diary that belonged to your father:

“Hey! Come back here!”

You spoke to the thin man and he accelerated his steps. You had no choice but to go after him, passing through the crowd of people and not letting him out of your sight. As soon as you were out of the crowd, he started running and you ran after him. The brunette didn't expect you to react, after all he thought you were like all the women he'd stolen, little did he know that he'd messed with the wrong woman.

You kept running after him, turning corners and entering the streets where he passed, there was no point in calling the guards since there were none around, only the people around, but you knew that if you asked for help no one would help.

The thief had an idea to lose her. As soon as he turned the corner, he knocked over the barrel of fish when no one was watching, the ground was wet and sticky, as soon as you passed, you overbalanced because of the slippery ground, tried to hold on to the other barrel so as not to fall, but failed, the barrel containing dead fish spilled on you and making you slipped on the ground and fell. Luckily, no one was around, not even the vendor responsible for delivering the fish, the poor woman was all wet and stinking of dead fish. The thief watched the whole scene from seated on top of the wall and laughed:

“I wouldn't want to be in your shoes, lady. Looks like someone's going to have to pay for that...” The skinny brunette laughed and teased you by showing you the bag of money he had stolen in his hand. “...and you need a bath too.” He added, grimacing.

“You little fucking thief! You'll be dead when I get my hands on you!” She tried to get up, but slipped once again, drawing laughter from the man.

“Wow, I'm scared to death of a girl who stinks of fish.” He sneered as he analyzed the old diary in his hands.

“At least give that notebook back.” Y/n said angrily.

“There must be something very important in there for you to run after me and dirty yourself with dead fish over a notebook...”

He smiled and put the notebook in his pocket:

“Adiós.” He jumped over the other side of the wall, taking your notebook and your money.

You finally managed to get up, cursing that damned thief, you'd try to catch him next time, that's for sure. You were angry not only because you had lost your money but also your father's diary, in that diary there was a lot of information about the legendary city of El Dorado, your father was obsessed with finding that city and when you were little, before he died he gave you that diary, which has now been lost by that thief...

You were upset with yourself for that. As soon as got up, you quickly left the place before the vendor saw that you were responsible for the mess and made you pay dearly for it, probably more than half your salary for those fish.

Luckily, your house was nearby. On the way there, there were murmurs, ugly looks and disgusted faces about you, after all, you stank and looked awful. When got home, you immediately took a shower to get rid of the smell. While was showering, you cried with anger and sadness, but you tried to stay in a good mood, because you was going to work that afternoon. It probably wouldn't be so easy to get rid of that fishy smell...

~ {Pov} Tulio:

I couldn't stop laughing as I remembered that girl's fall after stealing from her, she was such a fool to think she could catch up with me. I went over to Miguel who was attracting the others to our bets, the blond was playing his mandolin to attract more people, he immediately stopped and his attention went to me when I arrived:

“Where were you? Did you get anything?” He asked and I handed him the girl's money bag and the diary. “Wait a minute, why the diary?”

“I don't know, I just stole it from a girl and it looked like something really valuable to her, maybe there's something in there.”

I know Miguel is curious, so he put the diary in his pocket and put the girl's coins in the pile of money on the floor:

“Why are you keeping that?” I asked.

“As you said, there must be something important, it's not every day that a girl can read or write.”

“I think it's a waste of time reading that witch's diary... It's probably just girly stuff.”

I helped him attract more people, we had a lot of money from the bets, and all thanks to our addicted data. Before Miguel could open that girl's old diary to read what was in it, three men came up and decided to bet, but in exchange for money it would be for the map of El Dorado. They're seriously going to bet on a map of a city that doesn't even exist!? Miguel soon became very excited about this, he always wanted to live an adventure and believed in these legends. Before I could say "no" to their offer, Miguel pulled me close to him to take a closer look at the map:

“Just a moment, gentlemen...” I said and joined the blond, analyzing the map with him.

“Tulio, look... El dorado! the city of gold... it could be our destiny! Our future!”

“If I believed in destiny, we wouldn't be playing with loaded dice!” I whispered to him, of course I thought this idea was ridiculous, I wasn't going to give up everything because of a map. Miguel made that sad dog face at me. “Don't make that face! No! No...”

“So, do we have a deal?” The man asked and Miguel kept looking at me with that face, I can't believe I'm going to do this...

“All right, let's start.” I started to shake the dice to play, there was no way we could lose that bet with our dice, but the man interrupted me.

“Wait, not with those, this time we use my dice...” Miguel, you pay me... “Got a problem with them?”

He showed us his dice. I had no choice but to accept or else they would suspect that our dice was loaded. I took the dice from him and turned to Miguel, making that sign by putting my index finger to my throat:

“I'll kill you!” I muttered between my teeth to him. He kept smiling and went back to playing his mandolin.

“That come on baby, papa need that crappy map” I said to myself as I shook the dice and blew a little for good luck. “Come on... Show me seven...”

I threw the dice that rolled across the floor, hoping to get the number I asked for. The first dice landed on four and the third on three:

“Seven!” Miguel and I celebrated happily, Miguel picked up the map and I bent down to pick up the money that was on the floor. “Well, nice doing business with you...”

My dice fell to the ground, giving the number seven. The man picked up the dice and threw them several times, but they gave the same number:

“I knew it!” the man exclaimed angrily and everyone looked at us suspiciously and angrily. “Your dice was loaded!”

Now was the time... I have to play the game. I held your mandolin, stopping it from playing and looked at Miguel:

“What?! You give me a loaded dice?!”

“You dare to impune my honor!?” Miguel got into acting, Also pretending. “The dice was yours! You were the one cheating and stealing from those men!”

The guards were close, Miguel grabbed the sword of one of the guards and I did the same, then we started to fake a sword fight, fortunately everyone was believing, it was a good opportunity for us to escape from that situation.

~ {Pov} Y/n:

I was at work, pretending to be a man and loading the export food onto General Cortés's ship, which was going on a trip in search of El Dorado as well. Fortunately, I was going on this trip to take care of the ship's cargo, at least one trip to make up for the horrible day I'd had. But now I have to be as careful as possible or I'll be discovered, since I'll be around men twenty-four hours a day... My back was already starting to ache from this, so I stopped for a while to stretch until one of the men called out to me:

“Are you tired yet, Isaac?” That was my male alias, sometimes it's hard to get used to being called by that name. “I need help with the apples.”

He pointed to the large basket of apples. Holy shit...

“Sure, I'll be right there.” I smiled and forced my voice to sound more masculine.

I helped him carry the big basket and we put it on top of the two barrels that were on the lower deck of the ship:

“That's all for today, we're leaving now.”

He spoke punching me on the shoulder and left the deck. As soon as he had left me alone there, I lay down on the wooden floor, tired, and took a deep breath. I felt the ship moving, we were leaving now and starting our journey. As I was going to be on deck for a long time, I decided to take a break and sleep, after all, I deserve a bit of rest.

I kept thinking about the diary that had been stolen, of course I know a lot of things in that diary from having read it so many times, but it was something of value to me, it was my father's. I felt quite down when I remembered that diary. I was looking forward to it too, after all I would get to see the city of gold, but something was bothering me, something was telling me that I didn't want it to be this way... I felt my eyelids getting heavy and the tiredness getting stronger, and it wasn't long before I fell asleep.

*****

I woke up a little lost in time, wondering how long I had slept, sat up stretching my back and yawning, until my attention went to two voices on the deck.

“One... two... three...”

“One... two... three...”

I don't recognize anyone with those voices, and they were inside the deck, but how? If I'm the only one here:

“Let's go again... one... two... three!”

The voices were coming from the two barrels, and I worried that they might be thieves who had sneaked onto the ship. I got my sword ready and went over to the barrels that were being covered by the apple box, they were trying to get out, but the big heavy box was preventing them from doing so... I was curious to know who they were, anyway I was going to report them to the captain and the general.

I helped, taking the heavy box off the barrels with a lot of effort. Hell, I've never picked up something so heavy... as soon as I did, two men pushed the lid off the barrels and came out, immediately startled to see me. I pulled out my sword and pointed it at them, the first man was a blond man with medium hair wearing a red shirt, the second man... my eyes went wide, I immediately recognized him, he was the man who robbed me!

To be continued...

[soothinglee]

slow train | tao xu x reader

summary: you see a handsome stranger at the train station, seems like you knew a little more about him than you thought. first feelings are- different. do you like mr. unknown?

warnings: none.

authors note: in this fiction we are pretending like elle and tao are not a thing. we still love them but for the purpose of this we do not. at first i had written half of this and still didn't have a character in mind and then i realized i haven't written for heartstopper. how heartbreaking. also maybe a little out of character, first time writing for this character.

inspiration: the wonderful sebastian crofts song; "slow train to nowhere."

pairing: tao xu x reader (no pronouns specified. though reader is mentioned to go to higgs.)

masterlist | part two

line 141 has got be written down as the slowest train in history. the electronic board above the waiting station said that the train would arrive around 2:47, though when you look at your watch its five minutes till 3 o'clock.

feeling a little antsy, you brush back the fly away, trying to calm down your jittery legs. the crowd around you grows as the seconds pass, all radiating the same aura as you, impatience. one person in particular stands out to you the most, a soft brown knitted vest adorned his white long-sleeve blouse, matched with tan colored trousers. he looked well fit, a handsome young man, and as you continue to watch him it seems as though he's looking right back you.

underneath the cream fluorescent lightening the hue of his cheeks change a flamingo shade, and right when your eyes meet his gaze is adverted. he looks nervous.

"cute." you whisper to no one but yourself, the old lady next to you glances in your direction with a shy smile. hopefully, she did not think you were flirting with her.

taking a quick peek at the man again you can't help but feel fuzzy. you have no clue who he is, nor ever spoken to him but something about him makes you feel-lightheaded. what a concerning reaction. he's intriguing to say the least, the way he too checks his watch as the time finally hits 3, or how his fingers hover over his hair when he goes to brush it but then ultimately brings it to his side. you want to know more. but he is a random stranger waiting for line 141 and who knows how dangerous of a person he could be.

but that doesn't stop you.

right as you muster up that courage to walk his way the faint hiss of the train tracks stop you as a gust of wind tips you backwards. just your luck, the train finally arrived.

in the commotion of everyone trying to make it onto the transport before it leaves you loose sight of stranger. the people blocking your views as you make your way onto the train to find a seat, many people go onto other cars leaving just you and a few others in the cart alone. what a waste.

as you make yourself comfortable you can't help but notice a melodic voice pull you out of your thoughts. it starts with the shoes, then the shirt and finally a young man stands before you, wringing his wrists together in a nervous manner. a timid smile etches its way onto his face and it's one of those where you can't help but smile back.

though remember, stranger danger.

"hello, d'you think i could sit here?" giving him a once over, he looks harmless, thin, lean gentlemen with great hair. really great hair.

your lips form to make a sentence but nothing comes out and suddenly-comically, your mouth is dry. that has to be the most embarrassing reaction because the man laughs. it was quiet but very pleasing to hear.

"i, you, yeah- go right ahead, there's enough room for the both of us." you respond to him with an awkward grin that probably came out more like a grimace then you had hoped for. god, why was it so hard being normal when a cute guy deliberately goes out of his way to talk to you. normally, the red flags would be shaming you but in the comfort of his presence, the tint fades green.

a moment passes between you both, and from the corner of your eye you see a pleased smile rest upon his face. "y'know," he starts and almost immediately you give him your attention. you might've caught him off guard by the forcefulness of it but he doesn't seem too bothered. "I saw you waiting for the train and for whatever reason you caught my eye. I wanted so badly to say something but my nerves got in the way." he laughs again, god that laugh. "I was beating myself up for it, thought that I let you get away, but, when I saw you from the other cart I thought, this is my chance."

you turn your gaze away from him bashfully, "well i'm glad you took it." you utter softly.

his grin grows, "i'm glad too, you seem like a nice person."

"i'd hope so, i was scared that you took me looking at you as intimidation."

he gasps playfully, resting his hand on his chest. "no, never! I hoped that you wouldn't think i was some creep checking you out." he admits faintly, but then is quick to add, "not that i was checking you out! because that's weird, and disrespectful, and- oh my god i'm making this worse." he covers his face with hands, and hunches over, trying to cave in on himself.

a loud bark of a laugh escapes you and cover your mouth with a hand, trying to suppress the giggles. though it's no use, the blush on the mans cheeks grows down towards his neck, his whole upper half is pink.

"don't worry," you reassure, placing a hand on his shoulder, "i didn't take that in a nasty way, you're okay."

the gentlemen takes a deep breath and sits back up, the color subsiding. the look in his eye is indescribable. the fuzzy feeling from earlier returns and it's hard to ignore. are you catching feelings for a guy you don't even know? seems like it.

as the conversation progresses you start to learn more about the man. firstly, his name is tao, and being on a first name bases doesn't classify you as "strangers" anymore, it brings a new-found hope. he lives with his mom, loves flims, hanging out with his friends and goes to an all boys school.

when asked what the name he is hesitant, of course, but gives the name quickly. upon hearing it you gasp;

"I go to Higgs! who knew we were closer than we thought!" at this point you are full on beaming, your whole body and posture screams he has all your attention. he nods his head happily.

for a second he pauses with an eyebrow raised, "do you by chance know a girl named elle? she transferred there last year, friends with tara, darcy, and sahar?"

hearing the names sparks a familiarity and you wiggle in your seat. "how could i not! i sit next to elle in homeroom and eat lunch with all four of them! 'known tara and darcy since gradeschool!"

he laughs loudly at the information, "this is crazy! the four of them are apart of my friend group. what a coincidence."

as you go to speak the lady on the overhead announces that the stop is coming up. tao looks towards the door and sees the next station start to slow down in the window. a pitiful sigh leaves his lips.

"your stop?" you inquire sadly, upset to see him leave. your stop isn't for another ten minutes. the rate this train moves is ridiculous.

tao nods his head slowly, trying to move as slow as possible when getting up, as the train lets out a rhythmical chime- the doors open and the people who once sat around you flood on onto the pathway, "it was really nice to meet you," he says, bringing your attention to him once more. something in his eyes shifts in the way he looks at you and you can't help but feel small under his gaze, in a good way. "i'll make sure to seat you next to me on my wedding day." the words were muttered so quietly that you had to strain to hear him, yet you did, and ghost of a smile hushes you as you watch him exit the train doors, joining the others on the other side.

"see you soon?" you hope, wondering if this would be the last time you would see him even though he's a five minute walk from your school.

his voice is airy and the way he holds himself is sincere. he pauses and then nods your way, "of course."

that was the most enjoyment you had in a long time- sad to say, it was fun until he had got off the train.

[queen0fm0nsterz]

(Hi! I was the anon that previously send the ask during July about my theory of how the ladies might have had different journeys in each cycle)

I have to admit I always thought of Fox having the Hunger like the others, that maybe she was kidnapped by a being that was the predecessor to the Thin Men as we know them. And that she got her hunger through this event with the whole soul-splitting thing. But the possiblity of that she was never kidnapped in the first place and was the most normal out of all the ladies? I think that's a interesting concept and I really didn't think of that before.

If we go with that, maybe as Fox grew older she might have build the Nest. And then sometime afterwards, the Maw. But it wasn't controlled by the Darkness/Hunger/The thing that keeps the Maw and the ladies in control, at first. It was just a normal Submarine Resort with a Resturant, and maybe it was a refuge for all the kids there and Fox took them under her wing. The Maw originally might had a whole different purpose. And even if Fox had well.. slighty dubious or questionable plans with it (maybe trying to trick or con some of the guests for money maybe), I highly doubt it started out as a horrid slaughterhouse.

But after Fox, if we go with either Tengu or Sacrecrow as the second (or both as the second and third lady), things might changed drastically after the next girl came and had control of the Maw. A lot of things fell into chaos, much was neglected, and the the Maw twisted into something very unrecogonizeable (also because of the Darkness/Hunger). It became more hostile and it became during the second ladies reign a dangerous place (for both guests and children). Like, it probably took Tengu a good while to get used to her new role. And she had zero experience with the whole thing and might have fucked things up in the process. Or Scarecrow, when she shut herself away in the Residence and let her workers to do as they pleased, a lot of... bad things might have happend under her neglect and general lack of attention/apathy/indifference. They both were absolutely not prepared for any of this and had different views/experiences in contrast to Fox, and might have been far more callous and intentionally or unintentionally cruel.

This ask is YEARS old and I am so sorry for letting it slip by because it's absolutely awesome and also perfectly in line with my current line of thought. I just scrolled back down to the bottom of my askbox and saw this beautiful masterpiece laid before my eyes. I am in awe at your massive brain.

I will have to interject on one thing: I dug up a couple of interviews the LN devs did a few years back where they stated that the Maw is not man made, but rather only exists because "hunger" exists. Not Hunger like Six's, just regular hunger. As such, I believe the Maw may have originally come to be because of the collective's desire to have a safe place to run to and be fed. Possibly all the kids that got taken to the Nowhere, or the actual Nowhere population, or perhaps even both.

As good willed as she may have been, I doubt Fox alone was enough to have the whole submarine spawn, so this is my current two cents.

I do love how you said Fox might have had some dubious ways of getting support and/or money because I find it very interesting when you put it in contrapposition with the current Lady. The single thing they have in common... the power of manipulating the masses /j

No but in all seriousness I love me some morally grey women who are also kind. I love you Fox little nightmares. I'm so sorry they did that to you girlboss. I'm so sorry.

ALSO YES THE PART ABOUT THE SISTERS... OUGH I'M ILL. Absolutely 100% agreed with you there. I have gotten even more ill over them due to the fact that Tengu and Fox have the same exact tired facial expression... while Scarecrow just looks scared/shocked.

Trying to carry on the legacy must have broken the sisters apart. Not that they had much in common to begin with... did you know that tengu are bird demons? And scarecrows have been historically made to keep birds away and always end up getting attacked by them?

Yeah.

[dreaminlittlenightmares]

How would they react if their crush flirted with them/used a pickup line on them? Also I love your blog sm, I actually scrolled through the whole thing >///<

Well, I did do a How the Adults React to a Love Confession some time ago, and they almost react the same way here. For the kids, assume that it's a childhood crush

Also, thanks~

The Maw

Six: Just...stares at you...in tense silence. You both can feel your courage give way from the awkwardness the Janitor: Like Six, but eventually says "thanks". And maybe shuffles away in confusion the Twin Chefs: They're both mean about it. First, they'll ask which one you're referring to, and then laugh sarcastically at you. In truth, they probably appreciate it, but it was funny to them the Lady: Also like Six, she's stares at you, then walks away. You don't know what that means, and you end up chasing her at a safe distance the Granny: Laughs at tells you to try another line the Runaway Kid: Freezes and turns red really fast. He's kinda disgusted at it and wants to go drown himself

Pale City

Mono: The pickup line went over his head, but he got the crush confession. He spins on his toes and is happy the Hunter: "...Really?", and then scoffs and walks/storms off the Teacher: Is unimpressed at both tries. You have about 10 seconds to get out before she catches and punishes you the Doctor: Is kind of embarrassed that the pick up line worked on him and tries adamantly to keep on working the Thin Man: Has a smile so wide, it's creepy and scares you off. He catches you before you leave, and now you're at the mercy of the most annoying, love struck person in Pale City

The Nest

the Raincoat Girl: Giggles cutely, but then it turns into a full roll of laughter. She's both charmed and amused, and that's probably the only normal reaction on here the Craftsman: Gives you a thumbs up and a pat on the back for trying; but he's kicking out of his workshop after for disturbing him the Butler: Is embarrassed and angered immediately. Pray that he doesn't catch you with his telekinesis the Pretender: Didn't get the pick up line and asks the Butler what you meant. Read back to the Butler's reaction to see what happens next~

[milarqui]

Scarlet Lady: Evillustrator

Directory - Kung Food

Marinette was surrounded by Stormy Weather and Lady Wifi! She looked around, but she couldn't find any way out!

“HELP!” she shouted.

“AHAHAHA!” both Akumas evilly laughed. No help would come to their future victim this time!

“HA!” a young man, wearing a striped shirt, thin pants, and a domino mask, laughed, landing next to the group.

“Super Nathan?!”

“Oh no!” the Akumas shouted, knowing that their defeat was now at hand.

And, indeed, as soon as Marinette managed to get away, Super Nathan encased the Akumas in an indestructible barrier, preventing them from doing more evil!

“NO!”

“Oh, Super Nathan!” a smiling Marinette said, rushing to hug her hero. “I love you!”

“Oh, it was nothing,” Super Nathan said, returning the hug of his beloved Marinette.

“You're amazing and totally write me in character!”

“Drawing in my class again?”

Nathaniel was suddenly pulled out of his daydream, as Mlle. Mendeleiev grabbed his notebook and shoot it up.

“Go show the principal your scribbles and see how he likes it!”

“S-Sorry,” he meekly apologized. Grabbing the notebook back, he morosely began to walk towards the door – but he was so deep in his own mind that he didn't see where he was stepping, and tripped over Mylène's bag.

“AH!” he shouted, as the contents of his bag began to spill – and his notebook flew away, only to get snatched by Chloé.

“Ooo, look Sabrina! He drew himself!” Chloé said in a mocking tone, loud enough to be heard everywhere in the classroom. “As a superhero, saving Marinette! He's totally crushing on her!”

“These are really good,” Sabrina noted, much to Chloé's confusion.

“What's with that reaction?” I'm trying to dish out some sick burns, and you just compliment this rubbish?

“GIVE THAT BACK!” Nathaniel shouted, and grabbed the notebook – but Chloé, either because she didn't have the time to move or out of pettiness, kept holding onto the last page he had drawn, and it got ripped.

Nathaniel's face when he saw Chloé had just ripped his drawing was very much out of place when it showed up.

“That's enough, Nathaniel, OUT!” Mlle. Mendeleiev ordered.

“Ooo, girl, you've got an admirer!” Alya said, while Marinette bashfully looked around.

“I–I guess! He didn't deserve to be outed like that, though,” Marinette replied.

Nino then began to hear the sound of something cracking just next to him, and looked down to see that Adrien had snapped his tablet pen, while he looked with way too much interest at Nathaniel. He thought he could actually see the daggers flying out of his friend's eyes.

I know you like Marinette, dude, but this much?

----

“Hm, isn't it rather early for this?”

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he said, trying to dismiss the young boy's curiosity. He had just never thought about someone getting Akumatized this early in the day. “Oh, a Chloé Bourgeois grudge! Those are fun!

----

Class was about to be done, and honestly most of the class was eager for it. Mlle. Mendeleiev might know a lot of sciences, but she was a slavedriver when in the lab.

“Now, I'll be assigning groups for your physics reports,” she declared, just a few minutes before the end.

Everyone groaned. The reports for this class were always hard to deal with, because the teacher was very much willing to dock you points for minor details.

“Adrien, Nino, and Alya,” the teacher said, and the boys turned to each other, giving a fistbump.

“Awesome!” Adrien said.

“Lucky!” Nino replied.

“Ehh.” Alya was not so convinced about it.

“Sabrina, Chloé, and Marinette.”

Marinette promptly slammed her face on the table.

“Unlucky...”

This, she knew, was going to be a nightmare and a half.

----

The last class of the day, P.E., was done, and now Sabrina found herself in an issue.

“Forget it, Sabrina! I don't have time for some stupid report! I'm busy!”

Because Chloé, once more, was unwilling to do one iota of her share. Normally, she wouldn't have minded... but as of late she had realized that she shouldn't have to bow to Chloé's whims. Doing that for years had never been worth anything.

“That's what you always say!”

And perhaps it was time for a change.

“What's going on?” Marinette asked, approaching.

“None of your business!” Chloé yelled. Marinette just glared at her before turning to Sabrina.

“Chloé's trying to dump all the work on me again!”

“That's how it's always been!” Chloé yelled, and Sabrina also glared at her.

“Well, what's so important you can't help us?” Marinette asked, feeling at the edge of her patience.

“Like I said, none of your business, busybody!”

----

It wasn't as if they could understand the importance of her work, after all!

Storing all the pics people made of her as Paris' beloved heroine took hours!

----

“Don't forget, Sabrina!” Chloé continued, ignoring Marinette. “Not only am I your best friend, I'm your only friend!”

“That's not true!” Sabrina fired back. “Plenty of people have been there for me when you abandon me or exclude me or hit me! I do have friends!”

Nino and Rose, who had helped her back when Chloé struck her with her tablet.

Alix, who had defended her and got her to join the class during the photo.

Hell, Marinette herself, the one she had helped Chloé victimize, was more of a friend than Chloé!

“This class is kinder and more forgiving than you give them credit for, and I'm done letting you bad talk them!”

Sabrina attempted to tackle Chloé in a fit of rage, but Marinette quickly grabbed her by the underarms and pulled her away from a sweating Chloé.

“Oh-kay, we're gonna go calm down. Chloé, if you want your name on this project, meet us in the library in 5,” Marinette ordered.

----

Needless to say, with Chloé being involved, things didn't begin with a good start.

“Look, Sabrina! I bought a totally stylish Gabriel beret that I promise to lend you if you do my report.”

It was only a couple of minutes in, and Chloé had already missed the point of their previous discussion.

Sabrina, however, had not.

“You never keep your promises,” she accused, causing Chloé to face fault.

“Oh, c'mon!” she complained.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a giant hairdryer popped into existence, aiming at Chloé's head.

“What the f–” Chloé began, but then she realized that the hairdryer was somehow starting to blow hot air. So she turned and began to run, holding her hair in place, while the oversized device flew behind her. “Aahhhh! NO! MERCY! NOT MY HAIR!”

“HA!” Sabrina laughed. Schadenfraude was strong in her today.

Marinette ducked down and pulled Sabrina with her.

“Um so, wanna finish at my house?” Marinette asked.

“U-huh,” Sabrina agreed. Better not to get involved in whatever Chloé did to be attacked by an Akuma...

----

After hearing the other students about the giant hairdryer following Chloé, Adrien had transformed into Chat Noir as soon as he managed to sneak away. He could actually bet on who had been Akumatized this time, and, as jealous as he felt, he knew Nathaniel had good reasons to target Chloé.

“Things are getting pretty hairy!” he angrily shouted as he jumped at the giant hairdryer.

“Ugh, stop!” Chloé complained. Just like Scar, she didn't have a taste for good puns.

A strong hit with his baton, and the hairdryer peril was no more. Turning around, Chat Noir saw the Akumatized Nathaniel on the library's second floor, looking from behind the banister.

“Hey, you're looking pretty sketchy!” he said. Nathaniel grabbed his pencil and... somehow erased the wall behind him.

“Ugh, I don't have to sit here and put up with your puns,” he declared.

“Hey!” Seriously, two in a row? What was wrong with the world?

Regardless, Nathaniel jumped out of the library, going for wherever he wanted to go, and Chat Noir looked for Chloé... who was now sitting on a couch, acting as if nothing was wrong.

“So, Chloé, any idea why this 'artist' is after you?” he asked, even if he already knew the answer.

“Noooo! Everyone adores me!”

Chat Noir just gave her a deadpan look. Chloé stood up and grabbed his arm, while giving him a smile.

“So, Chat Noir, how good are you at Physics?” she asked. Chat Noir could see it coming a mile away.

“I'm not doing your homework for you,” he declared, seeing something on the table. It had to be the drawing Chloé had been mocking Nathaniel form, only that Chloé had added her 'special' touch by giving the Marinette in the drawing glasses, a moustache and a goatee.

“Then what are you good for?!” Chloé yelled. Just as ungrateful as always. “Just get out if you're gonna be useless!”

She sounded so much like Scar that he really got ticked off.

“You know what? Maybe I will.”

“Great! Best idea you've ever had!”

He didn't have to deal with this, so he jumped out of the window and began to follow any tracks left by the Akuma, while he called Scar.

“Hey, Scar, your so-called 'best friend' is being targeted, you might want to pretend to care for 5 minutes because I'm going to spend my time finding the Akuma,” he said, before hanging up.

----

She was going ahead with getting everything she and Sabrina would need for the project, when she heard something knocking on the window. She figured it was a bird, so she paid it no mind.

Wipe

That was definitely no bird. In fact, she didn't even know how to translate that sound, other than...

“Wipe?”

She turned, and was shocked when she saw the Akuma entering through a hole made in her window.

“Ah, it's you! From the library! What are you–?!”

“I... wanted to see you,” the Akuma said, and if she wasn't so scared, she would have thought he was being bashful.

“Uh, are you here to attack me?”

“No!” the Akuma actually sounded offended. “You're Marinette! You're beautiful and sweet and perfect! I could never hurt you!”

Just next to the Akuma's foot, she could see her trapdoor being lifted, and Sabrina was looking from below, just as scared.

She had to keep the Akuma's attention away from her!

“Wow! Um, that's very... flattering? Thank you.”

The Akuma smiled, and became bashful again.

“So, um. I wanted to ask you something...”

As it turned out, it was the Akuma's birthday – well, that of the boy that had been Akumatized – and he wanted to ask her out. He even pulled out a very artistic invitation card!

“Huh, this is good,” she said. “You know what? I will go to your birthday party!”

“Really?!” the Akuma happily said.

“If you promise not to hurt Chloé.” She may dislike Chloé, but she didn't want to see her injured.

“I promise! Meet me at the Pont de L'Archevêché near Notre-Dame at sunset!”

“S-See you there!” she said, and the Akuma jumped out of the window. That was when Sabrina finally came in.

“Marinette, omigosh!” she said, surprised by everything she had witnessed. “What are you gonna do?!”

“First, I need to figure out how to contact Chat Noir.”

“Marinette, I saw the Akuma fly out your window, are you okay?!”

She blinked.

“Oh, awesome!” Well, that was fast. Remembering her manners, she turned to her classmate. “Chat Noir, this is my friend Sabrina.”

“I remember! You helped when Mylène was Akumatized,” Chat Noir said, and Sabrina just sparkled in joy.

“Omigosh, you do?! I can't believe a superhero knows my name! And you're in Marinette's room!”

Chat Noir scratched the back of his head, and Marinette thought he looked adorable.

“Heheh, well...” he said, “Marinette has experience punching Akumas in the face.”

“I do not!” she tried to deny.

“Oh, that's why you agreed to a date with an Akuma!” Sabrina said. Chat Noir's expression turned thunderous.

“WHAT.”

“I was gonna call you!” Marinette promised. “Somehow...”

----

The two of them tried to do as much work as possible for the project, but soon enough Marinette realized she would have to begin rushing through getting ready for the birthday party. Chat Noir had actually been a sport about it, although Marinette had detected some ugly signs of something about all of this.

Marinette accompanied Sabrina to the entrance.

“Sorry about that, Sabrina,” she apologized.

“It's okay! We got a lot done and I got to meet Chat Noir!” Sabrina cheered. “Day 1 of No Chloé is already amazing!”

----

“HA-CHOOO!”

Great, not only did she have to do her work instead of leaving it in Sabrina's hands, as it should have been, now her nose was leaking.

“This day is ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous!” she shouted, silently picking the handkerchief Tikki was bringing her.

----

Alix looked around for her friend, but couldn't see him anywhere. She did manage to see Kim and Max, though: they were meant to be in the same group, so maybe they had seen him?

“Have you guys seen Nathaniel?” she asked them. “He was supposed to come to my place after school.”

“Not since this morning,” Kim said, apologetically.

“Great. Awesome. Perfect,” she groaned, wondering what the hell had held Nathaniel up.

They were meant to be celebrating his birthday, damnit!

----

“That's quite the charming scene you're drawing, but don't lose sight of your objective, friend.”

Evillustrator nodded.

“Romancing Marinette.”

“Incorrect!” Hawkmoth said, annoyed, but he paid him no mind.

“Hey!” a female voice said, and he looked at the source. “Bon anniversaire!”

“Marinette!” She looked so lovely, so wonderful!

----

Chat Noir glared at the scene below.

Marinette was wearing a beret, a jacket over a short dress, leggins under the boots, and her hair held up in two tresses instead of the usual pigtails.

Marinette was always beautiful, but right now...

Dammit, she looks cute! Totally wasted on this guy!

Why couldn't it be him down there instead of the Akuma?

----

“This looks amazing!” Marinette said. The Akuma invited her to his boat and to sit on the bench in the middle, which swayed slowly over the Seine's current. She had to admit it looked romantic, but she would have preferred if it were Chat Noir someone else sitting where the Akuma was. As she watched the Akuma paint musical notes that floated in the air, she went ahead with her question. “So, why is this the first I've heard about your birthday?”

“Huh?” the Akuma absent-mindedly asked, still painting on his tablet.

“You are Nathaniel, aren't you?”

“It's Evillustrator now. I don't like all the attention, so I only tell a few people. Like Alix. And you!” Evillustrator said. “You kept your promise, so I'll keep mine. And I always keep my promises!”

----

“This moron really over here blowing off our birthday plans?” Alix said, groaning into her pillow. “Where the heck are you, Nath?”

----

Now was the moment of truth. She knew it was a risky move, but she and Chat Noir had agreed on the plan, and if she did things right, Nathaniel would be freed soon.

“Maybe I could draw you something?” she suggested, reaching out for the stylus.

She ignored Chat Noir's glare from behind her.

“That'd be awesome!” Evillustrator replied, allowing her to pick the tool.

“NOW!” she shouted, and jumped off the bench as Chat Noir extended his baton, blocking Evillustrator.

“What?!” the Akuma exclaimed, shocked.

“Marinette!” Chat Noir shouted, urging her to run.

“Laughing and mocking me?! Betraying me?!” Evillustrator said, clearly feeling hurt. “You're just like Chloé!”

She knew she should jump off the boat. Keep the stylus away from Evillustrator. Stay away as Chat Noir immobilized him until Scarlet Lady could bother with moving her butt off her La-Z-Boy chair and at least come purify the butterfly and fix everything.

But that comparison cracked something in her mind.

In the blink of an eye, she was looming over Evillustrator, who looked like he was really scared out of his mind.

“O-ho! Care to repeat that?” she said, almost ready to stab him with the stylus.

“EEP!” Evillustrator said.

----

Tikki was not surprised.

Not anymore.

Not that it didn't make her feel angry.

“Don't you have an Akuma to deal with?” she asked.

“Uh, I have a physics project to ignore?” Chloé answered, reading Paris Match, which had Adrien as its cover. “The cat boy will ring me when he catches the stupid thing.”

----

Then, everything went wrong.

Evillustrator managed to kick Chat Noir's baton and hit her, and she lost the stylus in the process.

When Chat Noir shrunk his baton and jumped to attack, Evillustrator grabbed his stylus and managed to create a barrier in the shape of a box, trapping him inside, and then brought it down so it trapped both of them together.

“AH!”

“HA!”

And then, he used his power to erase a hole into the ship.

“I'm taking back my promise! Chloé's getting a lesson she'll never forget!” Evillustrator announced before jumping off the boat, leaving the two of them behind.

Marinette realized she had screwed up. That moment of weakness had cost them their best chance of stopping Evillustrator before it was too late. And now... Chat Noir looked like he was at the edge of a nervous breakdown, holding his baton as if to keep the walls from closing in.

“Calm down, Chat Noir!” she tried to help. “Extend your baton upwards!”

“You calm down! This psycho trapped us in a box and left us to drown! Does the air feel thin to you?!”

“Ho-kay! That's a lot to unpack,” she replied. Was Chat Noir claustrophobic?

With a bit of a struggle, she managed to coax her hero into moving the baton as instructed, and when he extended it they were propelled upwards, pushing the box away and allowing them to get back to safe land, while the boat Evillustrator had created began to sink.

“Thanks, Chat Noir!” she said, cheering. “Now you can–”

And then Chat Noir gave her a bear hug, much to her surprise.

“Chat, wha–?” she tried to ask, but Chat Noir interrupted her.

“Too close. That was way too close! I almost lost you again! I can't –”

He sounded so pained. So hurt. So scared.

As he slowly let go, and moved his hands from her back to her face, she looked into his eyes, and she saw, for probably the first time ever, that Chat Noir was actually afraid.

“Chat Noir?” she tried to say, because that sight scared her more than anything she had seen. Yes, even more than what she had gone through when Stoneheart kidnapped her.

“Please, Marinette. Promise me.”

And then he said three words that stabbed her heart like an icicle.

“No more Akumas.”

She wanted to say no. She wanted to keep helping. She wanted to help keep him safe!

But... she couldn't bear to see that pain in his eyes any more.

She knew he was asking this for her own safety.

And, as painful as it was...

“I... I'll try.”

“Thank you.”

… she promised.

----

After making sure she was alright, Chat Noir ran for Le Grand Paris, which was obviously Evillustrator's next target, and Marinette just watched him go.

“Chat Noir...”

“You two mean a lot to each other.”

She shook up as a gentle voice spoke behind her.

“Ah! You startled me!”

The voice belonged to a man of Chinese ancestry, with brown hair, a moustache and goatee, and a jacket and trousers of good quality. There was something about him that prickled at the edge of her memory, but she wasn't sure what.

“It can't be easy, being in love with a superhero.”

“'Love'?! No, I'm not in love with–!”

Then she realized it.

The feeling of his arms around her.

His cheerfulness whenever they spoke.

The beating of her heart when he smiled at her.

The fun they had back when M. Pigeon struck.

How they had worked together when she was Maotif.

Every time he called her 'my Princess'.

Every time he kissed her hand.

The day they met, at the Parc des Princes.

The day he clutched her from the jaws of death, at the Eiffel Tower.

He...

“Oh.”

He was her Chat Noir.

She was in love with Chat Noir.

“OH.”

The shock of this epiphany made her already present blush spread, and forced her to sit down, as she dealt with it all, by pushing her face into her legs, trying to hide both her blush and her tears.

“NonononoNO! I can't be in love with Chat Noir!” she yelled, begged, actually.

“Why not?” the gentle old man asked, as he sat next to her, and she looked at him, crying her heart out.

“Because! That'll make me want to help him more and I just promised I wouldn't!” she said, feeling herself break in pieces. The old man smiled. “I don't want to stress him out because I love him, but I can't leave him to depend on his useless partner because I love him!”

“Why don't I walk you home?” the man suggested, but she shook her head.

“Excuse me, I'm not done spiraling.”

----

It looked like Chloé was finally going to start doing something, but instead she just went on to plan how to excuse not doing her work. Again.

“Chloé, your teacher is never gonna buy your 'traumatized by hairdryers' excuse,” she pointed out, exasperated.

“You're right. An army of hairdryers couldn't dull my beauty.”

And, as always, Chloé completely missed the point of her comments.

That was when the door handles began to jiggle.

“What was that?” Chloé asked.

“I'll check,” she offered. Phasing through the wall, she stealthily made her way to a place where she would be able to see what was going on at the door. Seeing a familiar face, she promptly turned around. “It's the Akuma.”

“Fine, you know the drill.”

----

Evillustrator chose to stop trying to open the door by hand and resorted to his stylus, erasing the door.

“Chloé~ Where are you~?” he sing-sang, looking around for his target.

“Not here, freak!”

“Hey!” Evillustrator said, just barely dodging the polka-dotted yo-yo as it passed by his head.

“Oh, you decided to show up, Scar!” Chat Noir said in a disbelieving tone.

“Obviously!” Scarlet Lady said. “My best friend, Chloé Bourgeois, was in danger!”

“Is that why you almost let her become soup last week?” Chat Noir asked, piercing like a rapier sword.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Scarlet Lady tried to cover up.

Evillustrator decided to act now. The sooner he got that stuff Hawkmoth wanted off them, the sooner he'd be able to find Chloé and get his revenge.

“If you knew anything about Chloé, you wouldn't defend her!”

“Rude!” Scarlet Lady exclaimed, as he sent a pair of giant boxing gloves at them.

Chat Noir whacked the gloves off, destroying them, and turned to Evillustrator.

Bearing the visage of a true predator, growling less like a cat and more like a lion, eager to shed the blood of the one that had threatened his mate.

Despite himself, Evillustrator flinched.

----

As he dealt with the Akuma's illusions, Scar summoned the Lucky Charm.

“Another useless, mundane object,” she complained. Chat Noir looked and saw it was a bouncy ball, with the same colors as every other Lucky Charm that had been summoned, and he knew what to do.

“GIMME THAT!” he shouted, snatching the ball off Scar's hand.

“HEY!” she complained. He didn't care.

And, as he readied his shot, he poured his rage into it.

This Akuma had put him in the box, and that made him angry.

But he had tried to kill Marinette.

The one safe port in the shitstorm that was his life.

The girl he loved more than himself.

Evillustrator made him furious.

He fired the ball.

“AGH!”

He hit him straight in the face, and he dropped the stylus, which broke when it fell to the floor, freeing the butterfly.

And, as the costume covering Evillustrator vanished, restoring Nathaniel, the tablet had the time for one last message before vanishing.

K.O.

He took a deep breath. He couldn't take his anger for the Akuma on Nathaniel, whose only 'sin' had been to like Marinette and to be embarrassed by Chloé ripping his drawing.

“... yaaaaay, we won,” Scar commented.

----

The next day was meant to be like any other day, but being the aftermath of not just an Akuma attack, but one that had ended hitting her close, Marinette knew it wouldn't be a normal day.

Which was proven when she arrived to school.

“So, what happened when the Akuma got there?” Alya asked, filming Chloé, since she had been the victim (and cause, not that the latter would ever admit it) of Evillustrator.

“Well, Scarlet Lady handled it perfectly while Chat Noir wrecked my room!”

“Geez,” she muttered, angry. She knew what that meant in Chloé-speak: Scarlet Lady did nothing while Chat Noir stopped the Akuma, and then the former just took all the credit.

“Hey, Marinette,” Adrien said, closing her locker door.

“AH! ADRIEN!” she yelled, putting her hand over her bumping heart, trying to calm down. “You scared me! How'd you sneak up on me like that!?”

“I have my ways,” he said, smiling. She closed her eyes halfway.

“... were you hiding in that locker?” she asked, suspicious.

“... noooo?” he answered, looking aside. Marinette wasn't fooled at all.

“Omigod, you were.”

----

Adrien decided he had to switch the conversation before Marinette began to think him a fool.

“So, I hear you had another Chat Noir encounter~” he said. Marinette was usually full of praise for his hero identity, so maybe he could find how she felt after yesterday's events.

“Yeah! It sucked!” she replied, beginning to cry.

That was not what he was expecting.

“Oh God! Why?!”

“I promised to stay out of Akuma fights!” she said between sobs.

Oh, crap, he had to fix this somehow!

“Isn't that a good thing?!”

“No cuz now Chat Noir has no one to rely on because Scarlet Lady is the worst!”

Oh, great, he had made her sad! Bad Adrien!

He gently pulled her into his arms and patted her head, trying to calm her down.

“I'm sure he appreciates your sacrifice,” he said, but that didn't seem to convince the still grumbling Marinette.

Welp, he would enjoy it as best as he could. Hopefully, she would see things his way.

----

Nathaniel watched Adrien console Marinette from afar. He didn't know what the hell had happened yesterday, but hopefully he had done nothing wrong.

“You're not gonna talk to her?”

“AH!”

“Well?” Sabrina asked, giving him a small smile.

“I'm... worried I might've hurt her,” he confessed.

“You were pretty calm for an Akuma. From what I saw,” Sabrina calmed him down.

“Really?”

“Yes, you very calmly asked Marinette out to your birthday party, alone, just the two of you,” she teased him.

He dropped to the ground and covered up his burning face.

“Ughhhh, leave me here to die,” he begged, embarrassed.

“Nathaniel!” someone else shouted, yanking his scarf.

“AH! Why does this keep happening?!”

“Where the hell were you?!” Alix angrily asked. “You ditch me and then don't answer any of my texts?!”

“Alix, I was an Akuma,” he explained.

“Ooooh!” She offered a fist bump, which he answered to. “Welcome to the Birthday Akuma Club!”

“You guys need therapy,” Sabrina noted, going to her locker to put her things in.

“Sabrina~!” Chloé said, suddenly appearing with the beret from yesterday in hand. “I'm sure you've heard of the trauma I had to endure. You understand I couldn't possibly work on the project!”

Seeing it for a white flag, Sabrina accepted the beret and decided to give her another opportunity.

“Alright, alright. You did have a hard time, I guess.”

She ignored Chloé palming the eyedropper out of eyesight.

“I knew you'd understand,” Chloé said, and she hugged the beret.

“But this is the last chance, Chloé,” she stated.

“Yeah, sure, whatever!” Chloé replied.

Somewhere in her inside, she knew that Chloé would waste it. She didn't know how, why, or when... but she was going to throw her last chance to the dustbin.

----

“Hmm... the Ox may be hard for a teenager to hide,” Fu noted, observing the open Miraculous Box. Those two empty holes, belonging to the Butterfly and the Peacock, hurt, but nothing could be done yet. Not until Hawkmoth was finally found.

“You're sure about this, Master?” Wayzz, his faithful companion, asked.

“I understand your concern after the last time, Wayzz, but I am certain now,” he replied. “She's proven several times that she has the makings of a hero.”

“Okay...” Wayzz accepted, before giving him a look. “You're not going to put it in her purse again, are you?”

“NO!”

----

Vanisher

@zoe-oneesama Hoping I made honor to the scene where Chat Noir asks Marinette to stop risking her life.

Also, end of Season 2, just before Gorizilla ended! Only 26 episodes away from reaching the comics!

Hope you guys liked this, because, remember, next chapter is the debut of our favourite heroine!

[thebadboyfanclub]

It’s Alright Darling (Sherlock x Reader)

Ok... Was this requested? No. Am I writing it cause anything Henry Cavill related makes me feel happy? Yes. Enjoy!

Being Sherlock Holmes assistant was something a lot of people would kill for and that makes it even better if you think about the irony of it. However, since Sherlock wasn’t a normal person to mostly everything he did, he had decided to hire a woman as his assistant, Mycroft called him mad and unhinged almost every time he brought up her name. (Y/n) was one of the most intelligent people he had ever been around, combining that with a charming personality was the recipe to success.

“Well, well, well I see my brother is full of surprises”

“Hello there Mycroft is so nice to see you again as well”

She spoke in an clearly ironic tone as she took of her gloves, she was never a fan of hats other than the occasions she knew she would be under the sun for hours. As she walked in the living room area for what seemed like their childhood home, Sherlock had requested for (y/n) to arrive a day later than the brothers, knowing that her and his older brother were like oil and water he chose to “prepare the grounds” first.

“Where is the young little Holmes?”

“Inside, talking with miss Harrison”

“Alright... who is miss Harrison?”

“Miss Harrison is an excellent teacher and a friend of mine, come to think of it maybe you should go in and ask her to take you as well... you might be a bit old but I’m sure she can make an exception”

Mycroft found (y/n) intolerant, she was dismissive, unladylike, mouthy and a feminist, he still does not understand what asset do she brought to his younger brother. She only smiled while sitting at one of the chairs

“I will let you know I was an excellent student in all my academic achievements, although I suppose you were one as well that doesn’t really prove someone’s intelligence or manners, right mister Holmes?”

Sherlock let a laugh be heard at (y/n)’s quick response, even though he would never take sides and sometimes wanted them to get along, he had accepted that it would never happen and simply enjoyed the situation.

“Amused brother? Of course you are as mad as her since you didn’t only hire her, you kept her around and brought her in my home”

“Now Now mister Holmes, what type of gentleman would you be if you threaten to through out not just a lady but your younger brothers guest, unfortunately you are just further proving my point about our little quarrel”

Before he had the chance to respond a young girl walked in, wearing a white undergarment dress and looking disheveled. The girl who (y/n) could only assume was the infamous Enola didn’t even notice her being in this room.

“No, don’t do this to me. Let me remain happy, I am happy here”

“You are a young woman now Enola, you need an education”

“Test me, on anything you think I need to know in order to be sufficient for this world”

“If she taught you so well, you wouldn’t be standing in your undergarment in front of me”

Silence fell in the room for a quick second. His disgusting answer to his own sister made (Y/n) get on her feet, Enola quickly let her gaze fall on the young woman that was now in her house.

“Why is that a problem Mister Holmes? Undergarments are scandalous for the men when a woman they are interested in wears them, she is your underaged sister”

“This is a family matter, it does not- I repeat- does not concern you”

“Of course it does not concern me, but it does concern me when a young girl is being held accountable for walking in her home, to her brothers, completely covered and still being shamed for it”

Enola understood by that quick argument the lady was not here because of Mycroft, so it only meant she was Sherlocks company, she is not his wife since if not invited he would have at least informed their mother, so perhaps a girlfriend?

“Enola you have no hopes of making a husband out of your state, neither do you... miss (y/l/n)”

“I don’t want a husband”

Enola claimed, raising her voice at the ridiculous claim her brother made. Even though they haven’t been properly introduced they had developed a mutually liking for each other, at a brief look they seemed to have the same outlook on life.

“And that is another thing you need to have educated out of you”

At that Enola turned to look at her other brother, Sherlock, who had remained radio silent throughout this entire conversation. Enola kneeled in front of him, as Sherlock looked at her and then broke eye contact to look down at the book he was holding.

“Sherlock, Don’t let him do this to me”

“You are his ward”

“Make me yours. Guide me. Teach me. For him I am nuisance. For you-”

“Enola. I’m sorry, but it’s out of my hands”

“Just like his cruelty to our mother was out of your hands”

Cruelty to their mother? No, Sherlock would have never allowed his mother to go through anything, he is a man of honor... isn’t he? (Y/n) felt her stomach tighten as she saw this tragic scene unravel, she hoped Sherlock would have accepted and took her in.

“She is not dangerous. She is remarkable and always has been. And if you still can’t see that then shame on you both”

“So remarkable she left you in my care”

Mycroft shot back. (Y/n) could almost feel the pain the young girl felt, you could see it in her eyes how that was an arrow straight in her heart. (Y/n) decided to step up and try to help, she approached the young girl with a kind smile and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here to calm down. Seems like your brothers don’t share the same love and admiration you do for the woman that made them who they are”

“I am a self made successful man”

“but you wouldn’t be no man if the woman you frown upon had not broken her hips and went through hours of painful labor. Take that as some food for thought before you school me on my manners”

Sherlock looked at her in awe, as she stood proudly next to his sister and became the shield he should have been. Standing up for a girl you haven’t even spoken to or knew before this.

“Let’s go young Enola, seems like a woman’s presence is wanted here only when she does as she is told”

-

“Come in”

“Can I open this door and be promised that I will remain safe or are you holding a dagger and you are ready to take me out of this world?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, dagger you in your own household? I would probably wait to poison you a few days after we leave and write the paperwork of you firing me”

He smiled at her plan as he closed the door in her room. It was already nightfall and the only light here were a few candles, he had let her take a breather after the unfortunate event that had occurred previously. Even though he wasn’t the one that she went toe to toe with, his silence was as obnoxious to her as his brothers loud ignorance towards the female gender.

“You are upset”

“Of course not, why would I be? It’s not like you let that man embarrass his own sibling and talk down to his mother without her being in the room”

She had remained sited in the chair next to the table, a book open that seemed like she was writing on rather than reading it. He was aware she was holding a journal, he didn’t blame her for it, having a job like she did she was in desperate need of something to keep her sane.

“This is a very wary subject”

“I am aware of it, I just can’t seem to understand why not comfort her, try to change your brothers opinion, anything that will show you care for her, you do care for her, right Sherlock?”

“She is my baby sister (y/n), that’s a given”

She closed her book. She ran her hand through her  through her hair and got up from her sit, her hands going in front of her torso at a defensive demeanor, even when Sherlock should be cold or show his higher position to her, he couldn’t help but seek some type of truce with her, how could he not? She looked so beautiful even when she mad at him, the eyes he was so caught up in looked at him with fury, her delicate feature went harsh and she was dressed more... lightly now.

“I spoke with her earlier, she was in the garden”

“I know, I saw.”

“She asked me about you, asked me if you were my lady”

Her eyes went wide for a split second before regaining her composer and turned her back to him. She approached the window before she spoke.

“If you think of how she became familiar with me, she was probably certain I wasn’t even friends with your holier than God brother”

“You mustn't be angry at me”

“And why is that?”

“Because other than my sister and mother, I care for you and for your opinion about me”

She remained silent. Not only because she was caught off guard by his comment, she also didn’t know what he was talking about. Sherlock stepped closer to her, his steps making her heart flutter and her palms sweaty. He stopped when he was right behind her, he wanted to hug her, caress her, kiss her, still he was uncertain of how she would react.

“I still remember the night you got kidnapped”

Someone that Sherlock had helped uncover had escaped prison and kidnapped her. Luckily, she was retrieved safely yet again she was still shaken up by the scary experience, when Sherlock found her awake next to the fireplace she was so vulnerable and grateful to be alive she launched at him and kissed him passionately.

He shared his bed with her, in the middle of the night though she had gotten up and left, when morning came she acted like nothing had happened, barely even looked at him in the eyes for a week.

“Please Sherlock don’t pick at my brain”

“Why did you leave that night? Did you regret it that much”

“That night... was the most blissful I have ever been.... However you are still my boss Sherlock”

“That’s all I am to you? Your boss?”

(Y/n) turned to look at him, tears welling up in her eyes. Those eyes would be the death of him, it was with no doubt the window to her soul, that pure gentle soul of hers.

“What am I to you then Sherlock? This wasn’t just about me”

“You are.... what I never knew I needed”

His hands went up to her forearms instinctively, a soft caress that made her think his hands were made out of the finest silk, she felt goosebumps as he touched her. Her lips parted slightly as she took in a heavy breath, her eyes searching for a hint of a lie in his words.

“Sherlock”

“Shhhhh, It’s alright darling. You don’t have to say anything”

At that he slowly leaned in, his lips on top of hers at a shy and gentle kiss. Her hand went to his neck, bringing her torso to touch his as the kiss deepened, her entire body felt a rush go through it as they should the passion they held for each other with this kiss. As she pulled back her fingertips traveled to his face, taking in his attractive features

“I had almost forgotten how good of a kisser you are”

“Oh love, you will never forget it ever again”

[xgryffinwhore]

Hey! Can I request a jaeden martell x reader where basically their charters are dating on a tv show and they are really really good best friends in real life and they they both go on the Jimmy fallon show and he keeps on asking if they’re dating because everyone thinks they are and when they say no he obvi doesn’t let it go lol and it ends up slipping up that jaeden did/ does have a crush on reader and they maybe end up sharing a kiss in front is Jimmy & audience & stuff😶just an idea i had 😂:)

i love this idea wow, thinking i’m going to put my own little twist on it but i think you’ll still be pleased ;)

just friends

warnings!: suggestive topics, fluff

word count: 2.1k

five

your face was being touched up with powder, the cotton pad dabbing at your nose as the white powder absorbed into any oil your face may have had.

four

you look over at jimmy, this wasn’t your first talk show, but it had been the biggest one with the most following. it was intimidating, you bounced your foot up and down and played with your hands.

three

behavior jaeden had grown to recognize. he knew you better then you knew yourself, your anxiety was worse then you put it out to be. “you ok?” he questioned, “fine, i’m fine” you painted a small smile on your face. but he wasn’t easily fooled.

two

he grabbed one of your hands and rubbed circles into your palm, this sent vibrations of relaxation down your spine.

one

his eyes locked with yours, you swore they were a different color each time you saw them. sometimes more blue, sometimes more green, sometimes dark with mystery, sometimes light and playful.

‘aaand where on air’

you wiped the hand that was interlocked with his off on your dress, it was clammy. the curtain came up fast, and your vision was soon flooded with bright lights and silhouettes of bodies.

making out the faces in the sea of people was impossible, but you knew your friends were out there. they had flown out to see you, a) they could go see new york and b) you were on national television, and they wouldn’t miss it for the world.

jimmy was talking, you knew that much, but your nerves took over and honestly you weren’t registering a damn thing he was saying. the crowd cheered, you snapped out of your daze.

“and here tonight, we have jaeden martell and y/n l/n from the new HBO tv series: turning tables”

he turned to both of us, and gave everyone time to clap. he tired to speak over the loud hands, moving on with his show, but the crowd made that difficult. eventually the clapping died out and he could continue.

“now, i’ve watched all of the episodes but, for the people who haven’t seen: can you explain what the show is about?” he looked a jaeden, you let go of a breathe you had held in.

“s-sure” jaeden turned to face the audience more, he was soft spoken and shy, so it was important he projected as much as he could.

“turning tables is a teen drama. it’s about families of poverty in the seattle washington area and how they struggle to go to school and work. my character, jennings cooper, is the main protagonist. the show is mainly from his point of view, and how he struggle to support his family.”

jimmy nods and smiles, he looks pleased with his explanation. i’m truth the show wasn’t that simple, he knew that. but, it would take so long to explain.

“and y/n, who do you play?” he knew the answer to this obviously, but you were becoming a crowd favorite. everyone loved your personality, and you were an up-and-coming a list celebrity.

“i play parker marlow, jennings girlfriend” you blushed at this statement, the crowd giggled and ‘ouuu’ed. jimmy rubbed his hands together, getting excited at the upcoming topic of discussion.

“so, your romance on season one was steamy” you thought back to the scenes you did together. all of the kissing, which felt normal at this point. he wasn’t a bad kisser, in fact- you didn’t mind it at all. your romance through the season built up to a sex scene, your mind flashed through the memories of filming it.

filming those scenes isnt half as steamy as you think it is. it’s awkward, you laugh a lot. you had never felt that exposed in your life! however watching it was different, it looked so real, so perfect.

you blurred out your thoughts, mr. fallon still speaking on the subject. “can we expect more -“ jimmy searched for your ship name, it was on the tip of his tongue. the combination of your first names on the show didn’t make an attractive combo. it was either jarker or pennings. your last names matched a little better.

“-carlow” jaeden finished for him. jimmy nodded and smiled “yes- carlow- can we expect more carlow next season?” you both looked at each other and smiled. the writers for the show already had the next four seasons laid out. you knew that carlow was a continuing relationship on the show.

“yes, you should expect more of that sort of content from us” you stated. the people in the crowd had a positive responce to this, the applause lapping until it died out once again.

“right, your characters have so much chemistry in the show. two struggling teens just trying to break even.” jaeden agreed “yes, our characters balance each other out, and being from the same background helps them associate. jennings is kind of a bad boy-as the ladies say- he’s a felon, he steels cars and sells them to counterfeit manufacturers and dealers for money. parker, y/n’s character, has a job at a diner. she shows him the light at the end of the tunnel if he chooses to go down a good path.”

“yes, parker gets jennings a job at the diner with her, and he falls for her sweet disposition even after everything she’s been through” you add.

jimmy licks his lips and pops another question: “so id imagine the chemistry in the show heightens the real life thing?” he cocked an eye brow, the group gasping at the intrusiveness.

“jaeden and i are just friends” you blurt out, your nerves working up again. it was hard, you liked jaeden ever since you had your first kiss with him.

“y-yeah” he stutters, he obviously wasn’t expecting this either “friends” jimmy shakes his head and puts his finger on his lip “recently, you both have been showing a lot of pictures of you two together on social media.”

the audience ‘awwwed’ at the photos that displayed behind you. on the screen, there were pictures of you and him that were on both of your instagrams. you two at gardens, getting food, even watching movies at each other’s houses.

“for just friends, these photos looks intimate , wouldn’t you say” a bunch of ‘yes’’s and ‘mhm’’s came from the crowd as both of your faces became red.

“we’re just best friends, honestly” jaeden laughed nervously, he fixed his hair with his hand has he always does.

“right right- can you tell me when this photo is from?” jimmy asked, the last picture flashing on the screen. it was of you both, you had just filmed your first scene together.

the first scene you filmed together was episode two, he saved you after you fell into ice cold water. it was how the characters met, and it was filmed at a cove on a windy august day.

the picture was a little blurry, but it added character. he had his arm around you, both of your hair soaked, and you share a huge towel. you remember how cold you were, your teeth chattered so rapidly. his hair was stuck to his forehead and more small pieces went up. and your lips were almost purple, half from the makeup, half because you swore that was the coldest water you had ever went in.

“that’s from when we first started filming, it was the first time we met in the show” you recited, re living the memory in your head. you remember jaeden pulling your head into his chest when the wind began blowing. you remember his thumb trying to create friction on your back to make you just a little warm.

“yes yes- you two look so adorable!” jimmy squealed, he was the most teenage-girl-grown-man you had ever met. his hand opened one of the drawers in the faux desk he sat behind, pulling out a small blue camcorder.

the camcorder.

you know how on tv shows, there is special footage? sometimes it’s just behind the scene specials but sometimes- sometimes - it’s footage the actors document when they were just having fun? yeah it was one of those camcorders.

the camcorder was brought in by the two other co hosts wyatt oleff and finn wolfhard (i know this cast is sooo original not really) they played jaedens two best friends on the show. while they weren’t filming, they’d dick around and talk about stupid stuff. you’d never seen what they filmed, but you had been featured quite a few times; their by them pranking you, or invading your personal space.

you looked over at jaeden, you watched his adam’s apple bob and a thin layer of sweat flush over his face. he bounced his leg slightly, a habit he had picked up from you.

“let’s just review our material here” jimmy teased, his tongue darting out between his teeth. the video began to play, the sound was loud; assumingely for jaeden quiet voice in the tape.

the video started with wyatts unsteady hand, him and finn were running around set, they stopped at jaeden, he was playing on his phone in his trailer.

“jaeden wesley we have come for you” finn yelled. you could see jaeden shoot up from his chair. “hey guys” he waved. they talked for around a minute, jokes and all. then finn started to giggle, wyatt zoomed in on jaedens face.

“so jaeden, how’s y/n?” he chuckled, jaeden blushed “she’s ok i guess dunno.” wyatt stopped zooming in when the only thing in frame was jaedens head. “the kiss was good hm?” wyatt asked. jaeden continued to play on his phone, he nodded. “yeah, she’s pretty cute too.”

the video cut to another segment, this was filmed after the sex scene. you knew because jaeden laid on the bed you, in the same underwear that he wore during the scene. the boys were jumping on the bed, and jaeden took the camera and talked to it.

“this is for memory and memory ONLY! h-hey y/nnn” he was talking to the camera like it was you “you’re amazing and cool” you could hear finn explode into laughter as he stole the camera back and started running “yeah! and he wants your babies and loves you so much-“ “SHUT UP FINN!!!” and jaeden chased him around.

the video was taken off the screen. your face had become close to ghostly white. it was weird, it was almost like he was dumb enough to think finn wouldn’t give jimmy this blackmail goldmine. you looked at jaeden, he hit his bottom lip until it was red, he itches his neck and laughed it off.

“yeah ok-ok jimmy, maybe i liked her back in the day” jaeden tried so hard to be casual, but jimmy hit him with a heart stopper: “but mr martell, the last clip was filmed less then a month ago!”

your mind flickered with memories and ideas of him.

your first time meeting, how good his hand felt in yours. when you wiped icecream off his chin, and him dotting icecream on to the top of your nose. the way his hair always fell perfectly above his eye brow. and SHIT how he always smelt so fucking good. how he let you fall asleep in his arms and how he never complained when you put on some stupid romcom and-

“y/n?” jimmy questioned. “huh?” you spaced, come on y/n you gotta stop doing that. “i asked how you felt about all of this.” “well, there isn’t a right word i can use.”

jaeden took this has a bad reaction, he did a small wave to the crowd and stood up to get off the stage.

you stood up, grabbed his hand, and laid one right on him. kissing him felt normal, but now that there was emotion behind it, it just felt so right.

you both stopped for air, the crowd went wild. jimmy was clapping too, you could barley hear them, your heart was pumping throughout your whole body. you swore jaeden could hear it.

after the show, you sat in your dressing room for a bit, contemplating the events of tonight, and how they were all broadcasted for your embarrassment. but it was only the beginning. only the beginning of what was to come for mr. and mrs. jaeden martell.

[get-shiggy-with-it]

collab masterlist

✧ pairing: villain!hawks x afab!reader

✧ word count: 5k

✧ warnings: this is like all smut, angst, ambiguous but happy ending, unhealthy relationships, mentions of transactional sex, reader has a healing quirk but it's really just for poetic purposes, reader has a vagina, no other gendered parts, oral sex (reader receiving), vague metaphorical drug reference, mentions of blood, mentions of wounds, mating press, soft sex (?), sorta, slight potential could be read as dubcon but they're both into it

✧ summary: for years you've stitched hawks back together when the world has torn him to shreds—and he always pays you back, though you can't help but start want more than he can give you.

✧ a/n: hey y'all this months theme was villain/hero swap with a shared opener! please go check out all the other wonderful works in this collab, there are so many talented writers/artists involved!! credit to @/lady-bakuhoe for the amazing intro. also bonus points if you catch the old aesthetic tumblr post references.

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.

***

You can only touch him when he’s dying.

That fact is made even more horrifically apparent as he stumbles through your open window—and how long has it been since you’ve slept with it closed?—dripping with blood and panting from his flight.

The T.V. blares in the background, filling your tiny apartment with incessant ramblings that only grow louder by the day, and you already know what they’re going to say before they say it. Because you see him, before the reporters stumble upon heroes in the wreckage—you see what they do to him before they’re warning the public of dangerous villains loose in the streets.

They spout off about failing heroes but you think they’ve done a pretty damn good butchers job. Red feathers matted together, sticky and brown, fall in tufts from his back. You burn with shameful jealousy at the thought of those who would call themselves heroes having laid hands on what is yours.

He isn’t really yours and you know that, though you often wish you could be a bit more delusional. It might not hurt so much then.

They call him a villain. They call him a threat to society.

But even faced with the truth spilling from him and onto your creaking floors, it is easy to forget what a ruthless predator the man before you becomes when he leaves these four walls.

Especially as he falls forward on heavy feet straight into your arms, outstretched and waiting. There are stains on your shirt but you’ve known the secret for getting blood out of clothing for years now. Cold water for the fabric, warm to wash away the grime on his lovely skin.

“Gonna need you to fix me up again, sweetheart,” Hawks mumbles into your shoulder where his forehead rests.

His breathing is even more ragged now, not just from the flight.

“I know,” you reply and your hands shake when they find the gaping wound at his side—wide and deeper than the ones before. “I know. Can you walk?”

He doesn’t respond but that mop of golden hair shifts a bit as he slings an arm over your shoulder and rests his weight. You don’t need to direct him to your bedroom. This is an old game you’re playing and he knows the steps.

So do you.

Though, you’re never sure if it's dread that fills you and makes your stomach knot and your knees weak. Or if it’s that awful, momentary rush of excitement at the prospect of being able to run your fingers over him, bare and giving you free reign.

As long as he’s bleeding out on your floor.

Then you can feel him.

When he’s dying and needs you.

Needs you to fix him.

But won’t ever let you close enough to finish the job the way you want to.

You comfort yourself in with the knowledge that at least he lets you this close. At least those thin, silver-skin scars are the unmistakable mark of your healing hands. At least you’ll always haunt him like the red feather down that sticks to your pillows or between your floorboards.

So you strip him carefully and try not to let his sculpted chest distract you from the work. Hawks is silent, such a model patient as always. Only grunting when your fingers move to knit together the ragged edges of his flesh.

This will leave a nasty mark, you know it already. But you can’t find it in yourself to mourn the loss of that lovely skin.

It will only make it harder for him to forget you.

You’re knelt beside him, laid out on a towel you keep at the edge of the bed. Blood will soak through to the sheets regardless, but you try your best. He takes a sharp breath, white teeth catching the back of his hand between them to stifle groans.

You wish there was more pleasure to it. That he was biting back moans for you instead of trying not to scream as his flesh pulsed and grew hot while it was rebuilt under your fingertips. So you indulge, pretend your hands are elsewhere, roaming his perfect waistline and pulling whimpers from him.

Your dangerous, villainous, predator Hawks sprawled on his back, wings spread and cumming onto his chest under you.

The sounds above you change, and you know it hurts—must be excruciating as bone is set back into place—but you chose to believe it’s because he’s trying to keep himself from screaming your name as he reaches his release.

Hawks, you’d croon to him—Hawks because you don’t know his real name. Don’t know who he was before he started this underground life of crime on the fringes of a society that called him a monster and then turned him into one.

He isn’t a monster in your bed, though he may cry like one.

Cry as you mold his flesh and try not to look him in the face. Try to pretend they are an overflow of some better emotion. And when those summer wheat field eyes roll back in his head and those horrible pretty noises stop, you push past the growing ache in your limbs until the skin under your palms is smooth and no longer leaking thick, red blood.

And you do your best to resist the itch to feel more of him while he can’t stop you. Even with your fingers numb from overexertion, you can’t help but fall back on your heels and long for the feeling of his cheek in your hand, or his chest on your face.

But your part of the transaction is done.

And your permission doesn’t extend past these limits.

And it pains you to wish harm on him.

But it hurts even more when he does not need you.

So you sit and hate yourself and hope that those heroes with their disgusting philosophies get their shit together just a bit more. So you won’t lose your purpose. So he’ll keep coming through your window, permanently open through rainstorms and snow and spring heat.

Hawks’ breath evens slowly, and you stay still as a watched painting—no shifting eyes or moving limbs.

You crave these times like water or warm food—constant and instinctively.

And this is the only time you’ll ever have them, hands so filled with pinpricks of fried nerves that you can barely feel the soft, relaxed muscle beneath them.

What a tragedy.

What an injustice—

You can only touch him when he’s dying.

***

“Hmm,” he groans, sitting up and wincing as the new flesh protests under his movements.

“You should rest for a bit longer.”

Hawks looks at you, stretched next to him on the mattress—a purposeful few inches of space left between your bodies. It’s both selfish and practical advice.

But he isn’t here for that kind of help.

“You know I can’t just be sittin’ on my ass,” he quips, flashing you that eyes closed, wide smirk that sets your heart hammering in your chest. “Can’t have anyone tracing me back here.”

“Normally I’d agree,” you don’t find it in yourself to give the words any bite, “but you were just actively bleeding out a few minutes ago.”

“Sure, but that was a few minutes ago,” he winks and you can already feel the bed shifting as he moves to settle himself over your hips, one toned thigh on either side to bracket you against the bed. “Now, let me pay you back for all that hard work, yeah sweetheart?”

You wish the way he peered up through those long lashes, gold eyes honed in on you like a piece of meat on a hook, didn’t make your face burn this much.

It doesn’t mean anything to him.

Because this arrangement really is transactional—so you have to get something out of it too. At least, that’s what he tells himself, you think. He doesn’t know that those scant few moments you hold his life between your fingers is more than enough payment.

It’s been this way since the very first time you stumbled across him, half dead in an alley. But then you think it might have just been a ‘heat of the moment’ sort of thing that had just stuck.

You heal him and he makes you writhe on the sheets with his tongue and his hands, until you're fucked into unconscious bliss and he can slip away without your prying eyes watching him go.

But you still aren’t allowed to touch Hawks, even when he reaches into those deep parts of you and molds them to fit only him.

“You don’t—” you start to protest, partly because you want to believe you don’t want it and partly because you want to hear him insist that he does.

“Shh,” Hawks presses a calloused finger to your mouth and it takes every ounce of strength not to suck it past your lips. “I don’t like leaving my debts unpaid.”

That’s the end of your determination for the night. So you try to relax into his touch as slides your bottoms off and tosses them to the floor. Try not to clench up under those fingers that spread your legs. He doesn’t like it when you squirm away, when you flinch from his hands.

You want to think it’s because he hopes you aren’t afraid of him—of what he is—like the rest are, and not because he wants to get it over with as quickly as possible.

You want to.

But he’s so hard to read, and your mind is not often a kind place.

“Mm, god I’m always so hungry after you patch me up baby,” Hawks licks his lips as he stares down at you. “You won’t mind if I eat you right?”

You cringe at how fast your head shakes.

“Mm, course you wouldn’t.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice, and he’s right though you resent it a bit that he’s got you pegged so easily.

But you’re weak, you’re no villain, you’re no hero.

And so you’ll never be able to resist him. But, damn, did you wish you had a name to cry out. Then at the very least, you could keep a part of him with you too. Then you’d have some to moan on the nights he goes uninjured and you have to bring yourself to lonely release, only thinking of him.

Of those wings spread above you like a burning, red sunset, obscuring the rest of the world from view with his blinding light.

“Hawks…” you hiss instead as he shifts your legs over his shoulders and lays his tender chest on the sheets. “Please.”

“Yeah, yeah, what’s it gonna be tonight then?” he asks, breath ghosting over the damp folds between your thighs.

“Thought you said you were gonna use your tongue,” you whine, impatient now for any scrap of attention he’s willing to give.

“If that’s what you want,” he presses a kiss into the crease of your leg and hip, nipping the delicate skin so you whine again. “It’s whatever you want, you know that.”

It isn’t though.

It’s not whatever you want.

You can pick the position, you can ask for his mouth or his fingers, but even then, they won’t go past your neck. Your hands must stay firmly knotted in the comforter and away from him while he works. Cause he is working. This is part of the job to him, it's only in your fantasies that he’s doing it simply for the hell of it.

Hawks nudges your embarrassingly soaked slit with his nose and hums at you, “So is that what you want? Want me to eat your pretty pussy, yeah?”

“Yes—ngh,” you don’t get much in past the confirmation.

He’s a busy man.

He doesn’t have time for your stupid, romantic day dreams.

So he dives right in, and it’s enthusiastic enough that you can convince yourself he simply wants you that badly.

Hawks tongue licks a long strip from your hole to your clit and sucks the little bud past his plush lips. They’re a lovely, soft pink against your skin and they make a mess of you in seconds. He starts up an even rhythm, drawing circles into the nerves that sing and have heat building up in you only seconds after he’s started.

You hate that you love how well he knows your body.

You hate that you only know his when it’s shutting down.

“You taste so good, you know that?” he mumbles, lapping at you and kneading your thighs. “Could live down here just drinking you every fucking day.”

He doesn’t always talk like that but you’re happy he is now. It distracts you from the deep, ingrained urge to yank him by the hair and taste yourself on his lips.

“Makes me wish I’d let those damn heroes get hits in more often,” he’s back to panting and you keen at the sound. “Want my fingers too?”

“Fuck yes,” you don’t even bother hiding the desperation anymore.

He deserves the boost to his ego. You’d shower him with praise if he’d let you, bathe him in warm words and press them into his skin with your tongue.

But he doesn’t let you.

Hawks’ hand on your thigh trails slowly against the sensitive skin until he’s pulling back to run his fingers through your folds to ease the stretch a bit as he pushes two inside. He knows you can take what he gives to you, knows you love the way he fills you up.

Your tingling hands ache to grab his head and force his lips back as he sits for a moment, eyes glued on the space where his fingers disappear into your body. He groans low at the wet sounds your bodies make at their joining. Your legs shake where they rest on him, the one other point of contact he’s allowed. Those deadly soft feathers brush your calves as he curls his fingers up and waits expectantly for the strangled cry he pulls from you.

“There it is,” his voice is so much lower when he speaks now. “Can’t exactly show you the real ones, but how ‘bout you let me make you see some stars, huh?”

He asks so much of you. So much. So often.

In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever actively asked him for a thing he hadn’t already offered in the few years you’d known him. Hawks does it all—the taking and the giving and the demanding.

And you’re simply along for the ride, holding on for dear life lest he drop you, let you plummet like rock to the barren ground.

Still, you are mortal and you crave and you will take what you can get.

“Mhm,” you whimper when his deft fingers increase their pace, not thrusting but grinding mercilessly into that delicious spot inside.

“You wanna cum now, sweet thing?”

Then, true to his villainous nature, Hawks latches his lips back onto your clit, wracking your body with waves of truly sinful pleasure. His tongue draws quick, perfect circles across the bud just how you like. You’ll never know why it feels so much better when it’s him touching you.

How he knows exactly what you want.

Most of it.

Then his other hand is reaching around your hip, thumb taking over to press down where his tongue had been. Panting for the third time, his gorgeous head rests on your thigh and he stares dead on into your eyes. That predator yellow gaze pins you to the pillows better than any hand could and he licks across his lips while you watch, moaning as he tastes you there.

You groan deep and unabashedly at the sight.

“What is it?” he’s teasing you, unable to keep that part of his cruelty hidden even now. “What do you want?”

You shake your head and wish you could turn away, flop against the mattress and writhe but you can’t. You just can’t give up this moment that’s etching itself into your retinas—like you’re staring head on at an eclipse, celestial and short-lived.

“Tell me,” Hawks whispers, nipping at your thigh and working his fingers harder on you. “Whatever you want, you’ll get it.”

And maybe it’s the sudden heat of the room, or the little breeze from his wings spreading defensively to block you from view of his nonexistent audience—the outside world maybe? To keep you, this secret indulgence, hidden from their prying hands. Or quite possibly it’s just your own weakness at the feet of years and years of loving—because you do, you love him, it’s clear by now that’s what this is—this man whose name you don’t know and whose eyes never seem to leave you even when he’s gone.

Maybe you simply crack under the pressure of keeping this awful, looming silence for too long.

You feel your lips split at the seams and it all comes rushing out in a polluted flood—a stagnant river of secrets.

“Let me touch you,” you gasp and close your eyes then just so you won’t have to see that grin slip from his beautiful face. “Please Hawks, let me touch you. I can’t do it anymore, just—I need to kiss you, I need more.”

All this time he hadn’t let up on pulling pleasure from your skin, but he stops now, bringing your release to a screaming halt.

The quiet that follows—devoid of fast breaths and wet slapping—is suffocating.

You wish you regretted the outburst, the waste of years worth of work to keep him coming back.

But you don’t.

Of course you will in a minute, when he slips away and doesn’t return.

But now it just feels as though that boulder of secrecy has been lifted off your chest and you can finally take in lungfuls of sweet, unhindered night air.

It’s only after that dreadful minute has passed and there are still hands on you—buried in you—that you dare to open your eyes again.

Hawks is staring blankly, an expression you’ve never seen before, so stark from the usual quirk of his lips and tilt of his chin. Blank, but calculating. You can see the gears clanking as his thoughts rush a mile a minute, faster than he’d ever dream of soaring over the city skyline.

He blinks once, twice, then again and you can see the redness blooming at the corners as his eyes grow glassy between each flutter of lashes. And then, as though moving through honey, he draws back from you, only to crawl up your body until your noses touch.

You hold your breath, lip caught between your teeth, but his slicked thumb comes up to pull it out of your gnawing reach. He strokes across the puffy skin, never meeting your gaze, until he slowly, slowly leans down.

It’s not really a kiss, more of an accidental brush, so little of your lips touch you could easily have imagined it. When he speaks again, you can feel him forming the words against you.

“I—” he starts and licks his lips and yours and you don’t think it’s an accident, “I can’t.”

It isn’t what you want him to say, but it’s better than a silent loss .

You know truth when you hear it.

���I know.”

And you do, you do know, you’ve always known. He’s darker when he’s not with you. You’ve seen the carnage he leaves behind broadcasted on screens, but it’s never stopped the ache before.

He can’t keep you the way you want, can’t have things that get in the way.

You can only touch him when he’s dying. You can heal him, reform his flesh and bone—pull him back from the brink—but you’ll never feel his chest against yours or his hair slipping through your fingers or have all of him buried inside you. He’ll never love you like you want him to.

It doesn’t stop you from wishing.

And apparently, it doesn’t stop Hawks from kissing you anyway.

“I can’t,” he repeats and it sounds so broken you almost think that wound has reopened and he’s going to start slipping away again.

But the only thing that slips is his tongue past your lips and tangling with your own.

And then the levee breaks.

It’s a sudden torrent of hands and legs knotting together like the torn edges of too many injuries. Hawks covers every available part of you like an addict seeking his fix. It’s breathless and uncoordinated but you’ve never felt more alive, alight, aflame.

He presses his lips to yours again, pulling away and then diving back in. Frantic hands pull you off the mattress until your back is against the headboard and he’s straddling your lap. You take the opportunity to sink your fingers into that goldenrod hair and it’s just as silky as you’d imagined it to be.

Hawks moans into your mouth, kissing you wildly, like the beast he is with teeth clacking and your tongue sucked between his lips.

“I can’t,” he keeps mumbling, between groans and hips grinding and hands grabbing, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t— “

You wonder then which one of you he’s trying to convince.

But you don’t ask, just let your hands wander to the delicious curve of his ass on your thighs and squeeze, rolling his bulge against you. His fingers push and proud, ghosting across your chest and stopping to pinch your nipple. He drinks down the whimpers you let out, letting his lips wander your jaw and throat, sucking bruises—leaving his own scars on you—as he goes. He pushes you back down to the pillows so his lips can continue their work, latching onto the quickly hardening bud and suckling lightly. His groan sends little shockwaves through you and he looks up with brows furrowed like he’s in pain with how good it all feels.

“I’m sorry,” he says and it’s so soft you barely hear it between licks at your chest.

“No,” you finally find it in you to respond, shaking your head and pulling him back to your lips.

“I’m sorry,” he says again while you nip at his earlobe and down his jaw, tight pants yielding under your hands as they’re tugged away so he’s just as bare as you.

“No,” you shake your head and any response dies on his tongue as you dig your fingers into the feathers at the base of his wings and pull him forward.

Hawks lets out a choked gasp as his length, bare, hard, and leaking glides across your cunt. Any other time, you’d have liked to savor this moment. Get on your knees and worship his pretty cock—and you know it's pretty, just from your short glimpse. He’s long and perfectly thick, just how you dreamed he would be. The cute tuft of blond curls at his base is course in the best way as you trail your fingers through it to take him in your palm.

“Ahh,” he keens, arching above you with his head thrown back as you stroke him for the first time.

It’s been so long, you're not sure how you ever resisted this before. Not with how heavy and warm he is in your fist.

“Hawks,” you moan, sucking at the dip in his collarbone and moving to bite at his nipple. “Hawks, please.”

“I—” you think he might protest but you flick your thumb over the tip and it pours precum to help the slide of your fingers.

He’s already got those powerful arms hooked under your knees, all he has to do is lean forward and sink into that tight, awaiting heat, and he knows it. You can see the resolve cracking.

“Hawks,” you beg again. Because you are begging, that’s what this is.

And he looks at you, drool slipping from the corner of his mouth and brows all bunched up with his head shaking.

“Hawks.”

His hands grip the underside of your thighs and knock your hand from his dick.

“Hawks.”

His forehead comes down to rest against yours, eyes squeezed shut and red at the edges. You feel the sting at the corners as if they were your own.

“Hawks.”

You can only touch him when he’s dying.

Is he dying now?

Are you killing him?

“Hawks.”

His breath hitches, whatever he might have said is long gone when the head of his cock catches against your entrance.

“Hawks—”

He sinks in to the hilt all at once and the last utterance of his name is a yelp. Your walls clamp down hard around the intrusion, so much bigger than his fingers, so hot and long and thick as he pulses inside you.

There are no words after that.

No names, no refusals, just his face pressed up on yours as he pushes your thighs to your chest and rolls his hips, fucking you evenly into the mattress.

Not soft or slow or overly rough.

Though it is all of those things at once as well.

Hawks has always been full of contradictions. It makes sense that this is too.

Both your eyes stay open, lips brushing and sharing breath as he slips a hand back down to your clit and starts those perfect circles up again.

He doesn’t ask you questions now. Just stares in your eyes and sinks his cock into your over and over until you feel fuller, more complete than you ever have in the whole of your life.

There’s no warning leading up to the end. You feel the crest approaching, the coil waiting to snap low in your belly and you don’t dare take your eyes off his face. You need to commit the entirety of this moment to memory. Just in case.

Just in case it never happens again.

Or worse, it happens over and over until it doesn’t.

Until you run out of chances to touch him.

Until he comes to you too far gone.

“Oh fuck,” he mutters and that’s all the warning you get.

All the warning you have the strength to listen to as you tumble over the edge, waves of rolling pleasure burning under your skin. You clench hard around his cock as his hips stutter in their pace, thrusting unevenly as you gush and he spills rope after rope of hot release deep into you.

And you’d been wrong before, because this was full. This was whole, your stilling bodies pressed together at every point with his cock still hard and twitching as your walls milked him of cum that warmed you from the inside out.

This is what you would die for.

***

Later when you stumble into unwilling wakefulness, there are hands tucking a thin sheet over your bare skin.

Hawks has pulled himself from you after resting like you’d told him he should. He’s dressing, though not hurriedly, and you can’t find it in your jelly bones to move or stop him.

You’re both silent, even when he looks down to find your eyes alert and raking over him—costume donned and wings prepared for flight.

His face is drawn in a way that might have been resentment. Maybe towards you for breaking his resolve, maybe at himself for indulging in what he cannot have.

I can’t.

You hear the words as clear as though he’d just said them.

I can’t.

Can’t have you. Can’t forget his purpose. Can’t have gentle things.

Hawks is a villain, first and foremost, above all else and that includes you.

So you don’t move to stop him as he walks softly through your door. You just watch as he makes his way to the open window and perches on the ledge. He does look back, only briefly, to see you draped across the sheets, head resting on your arm and staring at him as he leaves you.

The ghost of that cheeky grin crawls its way onto his face before he tips backwards off the landing and into the night sky. He winks once before the indigo of the night swallows him like the maw of a leviathan. The city has teeth and it will chew him up and spit him back out into your arms soon enough.

So you’re content to wait.

You know this isn’t the last time. That he’ll come back to you as he’s always done. And offer you more and more of himself each time.

Because you can only touch him when he’s dying.

And this world is nothing if not determined to kill him.

So you can keep your purpose.

And by extension, you can keep him.

[ladykissingfish]

drunk Akatsuki hc? 🥺

Ask and ye shall receive! ((Sorry it took so long to get to/finish this. Also get the nagging feeling I did a post very similar to this before but 🤷🏽‍♀️ piss poor memory so))

Drinking with the Akatsuki

Kakuzu

Takes a lot to get him drunk; his alcohol tolerance is pretty damn high. And when he does reach that point, he becomes … very unlike himself. Friendly, smiling, and extremely loose with his precious money. Kakuzu being drunk is the best time to ask him for an advance on your pay, or a personal loan. Another bonus: drunk Kakuzu is storytime Kakuzu. When he’s sober, the others don’t really like listening to his stories because they’re all boring as hell, and are usually centered around some point that he’s trying to nag everyone on. But drunk Kakuzu, well, he’ll tell you about brawls, dangerous stunts he pulled when he was a kid, sometimes even old lovers. He can keep the rest of the Akatsuki enraptured for hours with his intoxicated tales. The morning after a night of drinking is a different tale, though. He’ll remember loaning money to people and hunt them down to make sure that know they have to pay him back, and he’ll deny like crazy any story tidbits that the others bring up to him. Will also go through several pots of pure black coffee in an effort to de-hangover himself more quickly.

Pein

The Pein bodies don’t drink, but Nagato will, very rarely. Beer is his drink of choice, and he’ll opt for foreign rather than domestic. He’s not really the type to get full-on drunk (no matter what he’s the Leader and he carries himself as such), rather he’ll just get slightly tipsy. If he gets tipsy enough he’ll rant a bit to whoever’s closest about pain, and the unfairness of life, and anything else that would put a downer on happy drinkers’ moods. He always hopes that the alcohol will help him to sleep (he’s a horrible insomniac) but most times it just gives him a slight headache while leaving him wide-wake and dry-mouthed.

Hidan

Nobody wants to be around this guy when he’s had too much to drink, because the normally violent Hidan becomes even more so after hitting the booze. He’ll be willing to take on any and everyone, from teenagers to old men. And being immortal doesn’t help matters any; he could literally get torn limb from limb and his mouth would still be taunting his opponents with “Is that the best ya got, bastard??” Drinking also brings out his creative side when it comes to his human sacrifices and Jashin rituals; he’ll think up new (and horrible) ways to torment and kill his victims. Is the type to finally, FINALLY just completely pass out after reaching his final tolerance point, and the others will (reluctantly) drag him to his room and put him in his bed. Not many are willing to do this, however, as most times before he passes out he’ll have stripped himself completely naked.

Tobi

An emotional drunk. Gets sad and cries over practically anything. And it doesn’t take much to get him tanked, either; his tolerance level is embarrassingly low and he’ll be ready to sob after just a couple of glasses of wine. Tobi tries to avoid drinking when he can because he knows there’s a good chance of him dropping his persona and letting the others see Obito Uchiha. In fact this HAS happened a few times, where he’a taken off his mask and everything; fortunately for him the others were so gone that the next day they either didn’t remember, or believed that had just imagined the whole thing. Likes to soothe himself by slurring sad love songs at the top of lungs, joined most frequently by Deidara and Hidan. Will also drunkenly stuff his face with meats, which is a complete opposite from his sweet-loving sober self. He can throw down a dozen burgers when boozed up, the results of which will likely be in puddles all over the floor the next day. Will go to his bed and turn around in circles a bunch of times, like a dog, before finally going to sleep. “Tobi” will be the quietest he’s ever been the next day, as he fights a massive headachy hangover.

Konan

For being such a thin, delicate girl, Konan can hold her liquor right up there with the likes of Kakuzu and Kisame. One might never even know that she’s drunk to begin with; she walks perfectly straight, doesn’t slur her words, has almost perfect reflexes and normal mannerisms. One thing always gives her away, however; drunk Konan is hungry Konan. Under normal circumstances the little lady sticks to a healthy diet and isn’t one for over-indulging in anything. One shot or beer too many, and suddenly the gloves are off. Konan will make pizza, hotdogs, gigantic sundaes, cakes and pies … and devour almost all of it. She’ll share with the others if asked … but most times she’s eaten so much that there’s not much left to share. When she’s finally had her fill, she’ll go to bed … and wake up feeling sick as a dog the next morning. After the nausea passes, she’ll force herself to go for a long run or walk, no matter how much her head may be aching, in order to work off her excessive calorie intake.

Zetsu

Zetsu doesn’t drink, because alcohol interferes with his plant genetics, acting as literal poison to his system. But he enjoys being around the others when they’re drunk, to see the different types of personalities that emerge. Likes to hang around Hidan in particular, as the man’s sacrifices pick up significantly when he’s drunk, meaning Zetsu has more of a smorgasbord of leftovers to pick from

Sasori

As a puppet, Sasori doesn’t drink. But when he was a human, it was a different story. He turned himself into a non-human at a very young age, much younger, of course, than would have been the legal drinking age. But his grandmother kept a variety of wines in their home, and when she was away, he liked to pour himself a glass. Always only a single glass; he was intelligent enough both to know that his grandmother would notice if any larger of a quantity was missing, and, already dabbling in making poisons at this point, he understood the concept of “tolerance” better than most. But the single glass was enough; it seemed to comfort him during those nights when he was missing his mother and father. The wine also served as a brain-opener for him, of sorts: it was over wine that he first got the idea of turning himself into a puppet.

Deidara

Being young and so slender, and not having much experience with alcohol before joining the Akatsuki, the blonde is a bit of a light-weight when it comes to the hooch. He doesn’t really care for beers or ales (he compares the taste to “cat-piss”) and instead goes for the fruity mixed drinks that don’t SEEM that strong … until you’ve had about three or four, and they put you on your ass. Deidara becomes very lovey-dovey when drunk, and not just in a romantic sense. Alcohol makes everyone in the world his friend, and he’s suddenly interested in what others have to say about life and art. He’s even nice to Itachi, going so far as to hug him and tell him that he smells good, something that he will vehemently deny the next day. He’ll go to Sasori and cling to him and gush about how he appreciates his friendship and his guidance, until Sasori gets tired of him and tells him to go to sleep. Deidara can get to his room on his own, but once the door closes, he’s more likely to pass out on the floor than in his own bed. Also, if he didn’t think to tie up his long hair beforehand, he’ll be in for a nasty, messy surprise when he inevitably wakes up to vomit at some point.

Itachi

Itachi isn’t one to ever let himself lose control of his senses, no matter the situation. Therefore, if he’s drinking with the others, he’ll stick to one or two beers or a single shot before cutting himself off for the evening. He plays much of a “mom” role in the group, making sure the others are okay, lending a shoulder to cry on for the emotional drunks, and, if they’re out somewhere, making sure everyone gets home safe and sound. On the rare, RARE occasions he drinks by himself, and lets go of his hesitation, he’s just as emotional a drinker as Tobi (which is quite possibly an Uchiha trait). He’ll cry into his pillow, he’ll sit and lament over the choices he’s made in life. Sometimes he’ll find and put on the saddest song or movie he can think of, just so he has something to get emotional over. Although this sounds bad, this is actually a helpful bit of therapy for him, as it allows him to release emotions that he normally keeps bottled up. He’ll end a night of solo drinking with a cup of tea, then go quietly to bed, sleeping like a rock until the sun comes up and things go back to normal.

Kisame

Right up there with Kakuzu as being a guy that can hold his liquor like a champ. In fact his ability to do so has won him many drinking challenges at bars, as well as a formidable reputation as “one bad ass son of a bitch”. It also helps him confidence-wise; normally the half-shark is very reserved and keeps to himself, as he feels that his appearance is off-putting and scary to “normal” people. But alcohol loosens him up and gets him talking, and being bold, and many people find this switch in personality to be highly attractive. Ladies especially take notice of his smile, his eyes … and his muscles. He even scores several phone numbers from interested parties … but by the time he’s sober again, he never follows through with calling anyone. Also helps Itachi in that he keeps an eye on the others when they drink, to make sure that they’re safe.

[helpistolethesecharacters]

Hot Chocolate and Chill

Peter Parker x Male Reader

Word Count: 1644

This is pure fluff you guys! Thank you so much to the person who requested this, I need more fluff in my life and this is working toward that!

---------------

Y/n was certain he had never been more excited before. He couldn't stop himself from literally bouncing up and down as he made his way out of his last class of the day and toward his locker.

His friends just rolled their eyes and got out of the way. Y/n thought about feeling bad or trying to calm down, but then he would remember all over again that it was tonight.

He had been counting down all week to the time that he would be able to spend uninterrupted time with his boyfriend.

Peter had invited him for a sleepover after classes Friday, which, when he had suggested it on Monday had seemed like an eternity away.

But it was Friday and he had just been released from his last class. Nothing was going to stop him from being alone with Peter, and Y/n couldn't be happier.

He slammed the things he wouldn't need that weekend into his locker, slung his bag over one shoulder and took off in search of Peter, totally blanking on the need to close and lock his locker.

In the back of his mind he registered the long suffering sighs of his friends, but he was on a mission. There was no time to calm down, he had a boyfriend to track down.

It didn't take long, as he was still standing by his own locker talking to Ned. Y/n didn't stop to think, he just bounced over and launched himself at Peter.

Peter stumbled back a step as Y/n collided with him, but managed to keep them both standing. Y/n silently thanked the spider that had bitten Peter for the results as he none too subtly appreciated the muscles holding him up.

"Hi Y/n," came the resigned sigh from Peter's friend Ned.

"Yes, Tis I, The Amazing Y/n, come to light up your lives."

Okay, so he was feeling a little extra right now, sue him.

"You may now revel."

Peter and Ned lost it, which was the end of holding Y/n up. He pouted from his new spot beside Peter and waited for the two to stop laughing at him.

His pout gave way to the dopey grin that usually crept up on his face whenever he was looking at Peter for longer than a second. There was just something about his adorable dork of a boyfriend that made Y/n feel like he was floating.

Y/n subtly snuck his hand into Peter's while he waited for the other two to say their goodbyes. Luckily Peter was used to Y/n's actions and didn't startle even when he decided to hang over his shoulder.

"That's so gay!"

'Ugh, this guy,' thought Y/n as he turned to face Flash.

"You know, that isn't even an insult. We are in fact gay. Or I am at any rate, Pete's pan, right?"

Peter just nodded from beside Y/n.

Flash looked nonplussed.

"What? So you admit it, you really are gay? Ew!"

"You sure are stupid for someone who's supposed to be smart. That's like me saying, 'Oh, my God! You're such a person!'"

Y/n even affected an over the top pose to add to his effect.

"Ew, you're a person! That's so gross!"

Flash just looked confused at this point, which to be fair, that was a common response to people who weren't used to being near Y/n's particular brand of crazy, but still.

Y/n was going to go ahead and call that one a win. He and Peter turned away and ignored the bully.

Peter just looked at Y/n in shock as he heard Flash sputtering and stomping off behind them.

"That was amazing! I have to remember that for next time!"

Y/n grinned at his boyfriend, eternally grateful to which ever deity it was that had paired him up with someone who wasn't put off by his over the top personality like others had been.

--------------

May was watching from her place by the table in their kitchenette, bemused as Peter straightened one of the pillows on the couch for the tenth time in the last two minutes. He had been quietly freaking out for the better part of an hour now, and that was only the time he had been out in the main living areas. She was sure he had been freaking out in his room for much longer.

"I'm pretty sure he won't hold it against you if the pillow isn't in the exact right spot when he gets here."

May immediately regretted speaking when Peter's head shot up and he stared at her with the widest eyes possible. Oh, this was more than just normal anxiety. This was much more important than normal to him.

May unfolded herself and made her way over to her nephew.

"It's going to go just fine, you two are so happy together, I can't imagine anything causing a single night together to go wrong."

She held Peter close to her for as long as he would allow. He was growing up more and more every day, and didn't let her comfort him near as much as he used to, so she was going to savor this for as long as possible.

May felt Peter melt into the hug and was glad that at least she could still provide a little support, even if she couldn't fight every dragon for him anymore.

The door bell rang, startling them out of their hug, and Peter managed to trip over twice in his rush to get to the door as fast as possible.

May just shook her head at the thought of ever being so young and clearly in love.

She took her place by the table again after greeting Y/n. She had a cup of tea and a book calling her name.

------------

Y/n looked around the living area of Peter's apartment, why he didn't know. It wasn't like it was his first time there after all, he had visited lots of times before. This time felt different for some reason though.

"Did you want something to drink?"

'Poor Peter,' Y/n thought, 'He looks just as nervous as I felt earlier.'

"I brought snacks and the makings for hot chocolate for our movie marathon. I can set up here while you sort out the drinks? Or are we watching in your room?"

Y/n handed over the bag that had the drink things in it and was pointed to the couch.

"Thank goodness you didn't have to patrol tonight. Are you sure it's okay to take the whole night off?"

"Yeah, I got someone to cover for me."

Y/n nodded and set about organising the snacks.

It didn't take them long to get settled with the assortment of snacks on the coffee table in front of them, their drinks close by and a movie playing on the TV.

It was a little awkward with neither of them wanting to step over any boundaries, especially with Peter's aunt sitting up at the table, but some time during the first movie they managed to relax enough to lean against each other.

By the time that the second movie was half finished Y/n was laying with his head on Peter's lap, no longer paying any attention to the movie because Peter was giving him the most amazing head massage and running his hands through Y/n's hair.

------------

May made her way into the lounge area on her way out for her shift, but stopped at the sight that met her.

Peter and Y/n were curled up together on the couch fast asleep. She melted and tried not to coo too hard as she fished out her phone.

This called for proof, whether to blackmail or embarrass was still up for grabs.

As she closed the door and locked it from the outside, May was once again thankful that Peter wasn't the type to take advantage of being alone with someone he liked, so she didn't have to worry about them getting up to things they might not be ready for.

-----------

Bonus Scene

-----------

Mrs Rodrigez had been walking back from her daily walk down to the corner shop. She would never let on, but half the reason she made the time to come down each day was to see the sweet young man who always insisted on helping her cross the street.

She was surprised, and a little suspicious of the person who approached her that particular evening at the cross walk. Whoever they were, they were not her 'friendly neighbourhood spiderman' as he always insisted he was.

This man was wearing what appeared to be hardened red leather in an all over suit. He was also a lot older than her normal escort judging by his height and broad shoulders.

He had a very bad homemade cosplay mask of spiderman over what looked like another mask.

The man (she assumed) got close enough for her to read the words scrawled hastily across his chest in a messy hand.

'Spiderman! No really!'

Mrs Rodrigez fixed the man with a steely stare. She was 78, and like all older ladies, carried a large handbag that was filled with mostly useless junk that was just begging to be swung at him if he pulled anything she didn't like.

He had already gotten higher on her 'list' by pretending to be the younger vigilante. He was on thin ice as far as she was concerned.

"Hi! I can't help but notice that you are a helpless little old lady possibly in need of assistance across the street!"

The man offered her an arm, but was met with that steely stare being upped to an outright glare as she pulled him in close enough by that very same arm, to be nose to nose.

"If you've done anything to that sweet young man they will never find your body!"

[yourlocalshittywriter]

The Duty of a Hero

Author’s Note: Howdy folks! I’m here with my first proper fic and I really hope that y’all like it! This will be exploring what could’ve happened if the Dabi that Aizawa fought wasn’t one of Twice’s clones. Since this is a fight, I advise the folks that are sensitive to things like that to click off and read another fic. Also, since this story does change scenery and moods a bit, I included some songs that change along with the the stories mood! This is mainly just because I like showing off my music taste and shit. Here’s Part 2!

Songs to Go Along: The Fighter by In This Moment, Acid Bubble by Alice In Chains, The Great Gig In The Sky by Pink Floyd

I felt extremely at peace for once in life. I felt the normal crackling of my joints silence into a warm nothingness. My aching muscles that had been torn to shreds time and time again, the ones that had been strained and stretched beyond the limits of the human body seemed to reform perfectly as they melted into the rest of my numb form. My skin, a forest of calluses, scars, stitches, and open wounds felt as if it was no longer there. I was no longer confined to the space of my body, and instead moved around as freely as water or air. I was a sort of goo, unmoving, stationary, simple, yet free. 

With a quirk as self-destructive as mine, becoming a hero was a sort of death wish. My quirk was known as “pain transfer.” Anytime I made eye contact with a person, I could activate my quirk and subject myself to pain only to have them suffer the pain of the injury for as long as I was looking at them. I could also transfer existing pain to my target. Although I may have had a wicked high pain tolerance and quick recovery period, my humanity was bound to catch up to me eventually. Quirks like mine, “villainous quirks” according to most people, should be kept hidden and the people born with them should go on to live normal lives as ordinary civilians. My parents were among these people. When I told them that I was enrolling in the hero course at UA, I was given the choice to either become a hero and be disowned, or ditch my pipe dream and stay their beloved child. I packed my things that night.

It was a miracle that I passed the entrance exam the next day. I was running on little sleep, the loss of my financial support, and the trauma that came with the realization that your parents didn’t love you anymore because you didn’t live in a way that they approved of. I had trained since my will to become a hero first arrived, a sort of passionate drive that crashed into my life so unexpectedly that the impact nearly gave me whiplash. 

I supposed that that inferno of, what? Spite? No, not spite, something deeper, hotter, and more righteous than spite. Let’s say ardor. This ardor was what drove me to take out as many robots as I could, despite the fact that my quirk was utterly useless in this situation. I took out a decent amount of robots, at least, decent enough to get into the hero course. A lady by the name of Recovery Girl healed me before I went on my way. I thought that I just had a few scrapes and bruises, but apparently I had a broken wrist. Surprisingly, I wasn’t the worst-off there, some poor kid broke both of his arms and one of his legs. 

The time between this moment and when I got into UA seems to have flown by. I came into UA, a semi-blank canvas, and now here I was, bleeding out on the campsite that I planned to spend my summer at with my classmates. Dying feels far less painful than one would assume; you really don’t even realize that you’re dying at first. It’s sort of like that feeling you get after eating a warm meal after starving for so long, sickening at first, but comforting after you grow used to it. It’s like taking a hot bath after spending a day in the snow; it burns at first, but the burning subsides into a comforting numbness. Your senses slowly dull into nothingness but your brain is left to conjure whatever image it pleases. I could have seen dead relatives, met idols, or even pictured an alternate life where my parents still loved me, but I didn’t.

I didn’t want it. Fame, fortune, admiration, acceptance, rebirth, none of it. I wanted none of it. I wanted to live. I wanted to do what I swore to do as soon as I got into UA. I wanted what I signed up for when I packed my bags and left my parents’ house at age fourteen. I wanted what I fought tooth and nail for. I wanted my ambitions and goals fulfilled.

Of course I wanted what I had worked for, that was beyond obvious, however, I also wanted the small things in life. I wanted my afternoon tea with Yaoyorozu, Sato, and Todoroki. I wanted my fashion shows with Aoyama, Ashido, and Hagakure. I wanted my midnight conversations with Shinsou and Tokoyami. I wanted my video game sessions with Kaminari and Sero. I wanted my morning meditation meetings with Shoji, Ojiro, and Koda. I wanted to watch pro-wrestling with Bakugou and Kirishima. I wanted to train with Iida, Uraraka, and Midoriya. I wanted to swim with Asui. I wanted to listen to music with Jiro and Mr. Present Mic. I wanted inappropriate jokes with Ms. Midnight. I wanted to make Mr. Aizawa proud; I wanted to make myself proud. So, with so many incredible things to live for, I opened my eyes, and attempted to move.

Much to my distaste, it turns out that my relief from pain, as well as the disassociation from my body was nothing more than a thin veil that was easily permeated as I rose from near death. The forest was nothing more than a verdant blur, one that was far from easy to navigate. However, all things end eventually, so I decided to run from death and wherever I ended up would be the least of my worries. I sprinted through the disorder and dysfunction, and wound up walking in on my teacher fighting the son of a bitch who had left me to die a lonely death with only the company of insects and whatever plants were to take over my wilting corpse.

As Mr. Aizawa tackled the cremation villain, I rose from the forest, stared at the man in restraints, and activated my quirk. As the pain transferred from me to him, I felt the veil of insensibility slip over me once more. The villain howled out in agony, the very agony that he had inflicted on me only minutes before. 

“Whatever you do, don’t break your gaze Eraserhead!” I chimed as I finally straightened my form, not wanting the hero to see me in such a state, “You’ll just have to trust me on this one!” Mr. Aizawa nodded, keeping a steady gaze on his target.

“Tried to kill me off?” I snarled as I made my way towards the sadistic bastard and beloved teacher holding him in place.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” the captive growled through gritted teeth, still under an amount of pain that would knock-out any average human. He looked beyond pissed that I survived, as if he took offense to the fact that I didn’t appreciate his work. I waltzed over to him, just far enough from Mr. Aizawa, but just close enough to the charred villain. 

“Surprise, I remain,” I cooed, low enough for only the villain to hear. He bared his teeth at me, looking at me as if he were some sort of rabid animal. I wanted to taunt him. I wanted to make fun of the fact that he had been taken down by a high schooler and their teacher, but I knew that it was never good to brag, because Karma would usually come to bite you in the ass for it. 

I stared at the man covered in staples, every blink I took releasing him from the effects of my quirk. Every blink motivated me to continue staring at him, to immobilize him so Mr. Aizawa could use his eye drops or blink, to buy him some time. However, I knew that this game of “pass the villain” could only go on for so long. Something had to be done. Eventually, the patchwork villain would catch both of us off guard and use his quirk, or one of his buddies would come and back him up. Mr. Aizawa and I were miles away from my peers or the rest of the pro-heroes. It was just the two of us up against this villain, and we were growing tired.

Only minutes after the realization had struck me, the villain escaped from Mr. Aizawa’s scarf when the two of us accidentally blinked at the same time. The human crematorium stood before us, and before I could use my quirk to disable him, he shot out a flurry of blue flames my way.

I dodged this attack as Mr. Aizawa ran towards the villain, yelling out the name “Dabi.” Before Mr. Aizawa was able to restrain him, Dabi grabbed the erasure hero and threw him headfirst into a brick wall, effectively knocking him out. I desperately wanted to check on my partner in battle, but I knew that I couldn’t let my guard down, because now Dabi was staring me directly in the eye.

I could attempt to charge at him, but I would be charred to bits, and even if I somehow managed to avoid his flames, I would meet the same fate as Eraserhead, knocked out and at Dabi’s mercy. I was screwed, I had no back up, my teacher was unconscious, and I was face to face with one of Japan’s most notorious criminals. I was dead meat.

That was until I devised a plan, one that would take out the cremation villain for good. One that would end his reign of terror once and for all. However, there was only one downside to this plan, and that was the fact that this plan would result in two casualties, Dabi and me. However, if I went with any other plan, Mr. Aizawa and I were to become the victims while Dabi walked off scot free. 

I was destined to become a martyr.

With that realization, I turned to my teacher who was slowly coming to his senses and gave him a gentle smile,

“Eraserhead, it has truly been a pleasure,” I announced as Dabi’s arrogant gaze turned to one of confusion. As Mr. Aizawa slowly faded back into his previously comatose state before he had time to be confused, I focused my gaze back on the blue-flamed bastard. It was time to end it, to end his rule once and for all.

I reached into my pocket, grabbed a tiny weapon that fit perfectly in my hand, locked eyes with the villain, smirked, and painlessly slit my neck. As Dabi grasped his neck and choked on his unseen blood, which was truly my blood, he fell to his knees.

As I took what I knew were my last steps, I came face to face with the first half to my murder-suicide. He glared at me, an amalgam of agony that felt nothing at all, and snarled.

“I’ll see you in hell, you cunt.”

I laughed, of all the things he could’ve chosen to be his final words, he chose to give into the childish desire to have the last word with me. As his oddly-familiar eyes drained of life, I felt the pain I had so carelessly inflicted upon myself finally hit me like a freight train.

I began to choke as I fell to my knees, similarly to how Dabi had fallen only seconds before. I knew that my time was up soon, I would succumb to my injuries and lose the thing I had fought tooth and nail for only moments before. I looked to the horizon to find the sun casting his loving gaze upon my battered body. It was as if Apollo himself was granting me a warrior’s death, like he knew I had made some kind of a righteous sacrifice that warranted a soothing transition from death to afterlife.

The sunrise was something like I had never seen before. The blues burned brighter than the flames I had defeated minutes before, the yellow pooled around my weary being like an evening gown to a death dance, and the red painted a comforting scene in the clouds, as if to distract me from my own red that painted my body and the ground around me. I smiled my final smile as I walked into the loving embrace of the sun.

My duty as a hero had been fulfilled.

[floraltypes]

Owe Me a Coffee

who - gibbs x reader 

tw - mentions of sex, fires, blood, beatings, death

an - I took french for two years, but I’m not fluent and had to use a translating app so I hope it isn’t too bad ! Request something as well, I finally got them working :)

uneditied :/

“Damn you DiNozzo,” You cursed, staring at the man and moving your hand to smack him up besides the head.

You couldn’t help but think back to this morning, getting stuck with the annoying, cocky, flirty, obnoxious, co-worker. Doing a undercover mission with him definitely wasn’t your first choice, you’d rather do paperwork at this point.

“Huh?” You looked at Gibbs like he had just said a alien had landed down at the NCIS building asking for you. “You want me with Tony?”

“Yeah, did I say it in some other language? You and DiNozzo are going undercover, found a marine’s wife dead, along with her killers. Abby was able to access their computers and found out they were doing hit man work, and the director wants us to locate their boss. But since the two are dead now, we need some people to go undercover, you two,” He reminded you, reading the case the five of you were all taking on now.

“Oh, ho, ho!” Tony laughed, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards him. “Looks like little Y/n finally gets a chance with the Tony master.”

“Tony master? Is that another cocky Tony name to make him feel better about himself?” Ziva wondered.

“It’s what my last babe called me, the master, so why not add Tony in front of it?” He smiled, getting smacked in the back of the head by Gibbs.

“You’ll be undercover, not as yourselves. So, refrain from the names DiNozzo.”

“Got it boss!” He exclaimed, shooting you a wink before you turned back to your computer.

“L/n, Elevator, now.” Gibbs commanded, and you quickly stood up to follow after him.

“Do you ever wonder who Gibbs is getting it with?” David asked, standing beside DiNozzo and McGee as they watched you and Gibbs enter the elevator.

“It’s ‘getting it on with’ and yes, I think we all do.” Tony corrected her. “But I doubt he is, because if he was, he might be happier.”

“Well, just because you go to school, it doesn’t make you smart. A perfect example is you, Tony,” David turned towards the man with a smile and pinched his cheek, Tony slapping the hand away.

“I actually get some, doubt Probie has ever had any.”

“Well, I actually-“

“If you have to say ‘actually’ while talking about sex it’s probably a lie. So, probie, just dream out your fantasies without getting them mixed up with real life,” DiNozzo smirked, smacking his back while moving to his own computer.

You were on the elevator, looking at your boss who clicked the ‘Emergency Stop’ button, causing the transportation to pause its route.

“Yeah, Gibbs?” You leaned onto the back of the elevator, a small smile playing out on your lips as you smiled at the man.

“I’m putting you on because I need someone convincing. So, put on your acting skills and make it work,” He mentioned, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yeah, yeah. I took drama for two years in high school just for this moment,” You joked. “You’re going to owe me a nice, creamed, coffee because of this.”

“And if I don’t? Right now, I’m your boss, I can’t be your boyfriend.”

“Good to know, boss.” You moved in front of him and unlocked the button. “I’ll keep that in mind for my acting, I just hope you don’t mind, boss,” The doors soon opened and you exited, walking into Abby’s area.

“Ah Gibbs! L/n! What do I owe this pleasure?” Abby greeted, taking a large sip of her drink.

“Are you running the prints on the gun found by the female hit man?” Gibbs asked as you took a seat on one of Abby’s chairs.

“Of course!” Abby hopped up and moved over to her machine, pointing to it, showcasing that it was running. “Working on it right now. But, I don’t think you’ll find much luck with it considering it was the same gun used to kill the commanders wife.”

“Well, we don’t know that for sure, so work on that. L/n,”

“But I want to chat with my dear friend before moving on,” You whined, while he shot you a stern look in return. “I’m going,” You quickly stood up, following the man out.

“I want you to go upstairs and get ready with DiNozzo,” He demanded and you just nodded.

“Right. On my way!” You yelled, running to the elevator. “I’m thrilled for this, but even more thrilled to finish this mission and go on a date,”

“Have fun with that.”

“I will! Hopefully Palmer will as well,” The elevator doors shut and Gibbs continued to make his way down to the Autopsy room to speak with Ducky. Now, not to thrilled at the mans assistant.

You arrived back upstairs, looking at the agent who had his feet on his desk and talking on the phone.

“Who is he chatting with? Gibbs wants us ready,” You commented, moving by Ziva and McGee who were watching him.

“Some girl, someone named Louis,” McGee answered.

“That sounds like a older woman’s name,” Ziva added.

“Yeah. Hey, McGee,” The man looked up from where he was watching DiNozzo and turned to face you. “Remember when you gave me food poisoning, and felt so bad you promised you give me a favor. Well, I want to turn that in now,” You smiled at him, writing down a note on a piece of paper and handing it to him.

“What are you up to?” Ziva asked as McGee left the two of you, heading to his own computer.

“Having some fun with a certain co worker who is going to ruin my night,” You got up from Ziva and moved over to DiNozzo. “Who are you chatting with?”

“A babe,” He mouthed, smiling as you could hear the little rambles on the phone.

“Gibbs wants you ready to go in twenty. And I know it takes you thirty to just do your hair, so, maybe you should cut the phone call.”

He put his hand to cover the speaker on the phone, taking his legs off the desk, and leaving in closer to you. “And you need forty to suck in that gut,”

You laughed, reaching over to grab the phone and putting it to you ear. “Tony! I got you your superhero costume, sweetie! We can now go and dress up together, but not in those tighty whities,” You voiced into the phone, slamming it down and looking at his stunned face. “Never comment on a woman’s weight, now, get ready for tonight because I’m not easy to please.”

The man mocked you for a moment and then left his desk, you turning to look back at Ziva.

“Impressive,” She complimented, walking by you and patting your shoulder.

“Thanks, I’m just starting,” You smiled at the girl, grabbing your gun and sticking your knife into the pocket inside your custom made boots.

You soon got yourself ready in a nice short, red dress that fit your body well enough that you were comfortable, and able to hide a knife around your thigh area.

“Ready yet Y/n?” DiNozzo knocked on the door, fixing his tie and suit.

“Wow Tony, you do know how to clean up,” Ziva commented, coming up behind him, in front of the restroom door, with McGee.

“Thank you, Ziva,”

“Well, besides the tag sticking out in the back. Are you really that cheap? I thought you took, uh, pride in your choice of clothing,”

“I don’t see the point on wearing something very expensive to a undercover date,” He told her back.

“You also missed a spot when shaving,” McGee pointed out, pointing to the far right side of Tony’s face.

“Shut it Probie. At least I didn’t need mommy to help me shave in highschool,”

“Abby told you about that?”

“Well, now she did,”

You opened the door and flattened your dress, then fixing a ring on your pointer finger and smiled at the three other special agents.

“Tony, didn’t you need your mom to help you do your laundry in highschool? Not one to speak,”

“You look well. Didn’t know you were even able to-” You whipped out your knife from underneath your dress and pointed it at the man. “You look stunning, great, nice.”

“Looks like you’re on a thin glacier, Tony,” Ziva laughed.

“I think it’s thin ice,” McGee corrected.

“Same thing!” Ziva threw her hands in the air. “Y/n, I didn’t know you had those moves,”

“Yeah, not a lot of people do. I like to hold some secrets with the team, and my past career is one of them,” You smiled.

“Let’s go,” Tony gripped your hand and intertwined it with his. “My love,” He gritted through his teeth.

“Not too convincing DiNozzo,” Gibbs walked over, smacking the back of his head. “You don’t treat a lady like that. Grip the hand like this,” He smoothly let his hand move its way to yours and he gently connected it with yours. “Even McGee knows this,” He smiled at you and let your hand go.

“I-I know how to do it, boss. Just- nevermind,” He grumbled, loosening his grip.

“I’m starving, care to escort me to the car, Armon?” You got yourself ready to take on your character, smiling at the man besides you with one as if you were really happy with the situation you were in.

“Anything for you, Belle,” The two of you made your way out of the building. Your fellow co-workers watched as the two of you walked away, yet, you were both still messing with each other and hitting while walking out.

“My last wife tend to do that,” Gibbs commented, soon making his way after you two to get into his own undercover van.

“Is that a normal thing for American couples?” Ziva asked McGee.

“Well, I’m not sure. But I have seen plenty of married couples do that, so they’ll fit right in,” He answered, the two then leaving as well.

Once arriving to the hotel, you waited for DiNozzo to open your door and grab your hand to lead you out of the car and into the new building. While clutching your purse and waiting behind a few other guests who were trying to get in, you turned to fix Tony’s glasses and clicked the ‘on’ button.

“Looking swell, honey,” You smiled at him as he placed a arm over your shoulder.

“Thank you. I’m thrilled we were able to get these reservations, dinner should be delicious tonight. You’ll be getting the salad, like normal, correct?” He looked down at you and you stepped on his foot as the line moved forward.

“Oh my! I’m so sorry! I always have the most trouble in heels like these, oh the line, hurry up now!” You voiced, walking into the hotel and following everyone else into the dining area.

“We should look for our names now,” He told you, sneaking up from behind as the two of you searched the tables for little cards with your last names on it. “Bingo! Right next to the Lezarres,”

“Oh and the Garndels are here as well. I’ve heard some things about them,” You added, letting Tony pull out a chair as you took a seat.

The both of you introduced yourself to the other couples and went through the night engaging in some small talk about politics and the food. You and DiNozzo had done a swell job at it and you retreated to the rest room at the end of dinner to hear any new news.

“So, what’s the update?” You asked into the little microphone hidden in your bracelet.

“There’s a hotel room in your name, bought out by your boss and, uh, boss wants you two to stay in there,” McGee told you into the ear piece which was located in your right ear.

“Great, more time with that stupid bastard. He couldn’t shut up about himself at dinner, like always, I’m really contemplating divorce,” You muttered, fixing your lipstick as another woman walked out, moving to wash her hands.

“I know just how you feel, best of luck,” She mentioned before walking out.

“Thanks,” You spoke back to her before turning your attention back to the mirror. “Do we think this boss of mine is going to go after the commander of that wife?”

“Yeah, Gibbs want you to stop him before he does. We have no clue who the boss is but he will be visiting the both of you tonight,”

“Got it,”

“Y/n!” Gibbs spoke now into the earpiece on the other end.

“Yeah?”

“If he got the hotel room, expect it to be bugged. So, you better act,”

“No worries. I’ve had to act in the bedroom before, and past boyfriends sure believed it,” You walked out of the bathroom and stood next to Tony. “Hun, my feet are killing me. I think it’s time we head to the hotel room and rest,” Tony nodded and stood up from his seat. The both of you said a goodbye to the couple and got your key from the front desk, soon getting into the elevator.

“So, a hotel room? Really want to sleep with me tonight, huh?” Tony laughed to himself as you positioned yourself in front of him and kissed his cheek, soon moving your lips closer to his ear.

“Room could be bugged, even the elevator, time to act,” You whispered, pulling back and placing a small kiss on his lips.

“Oh dear, if you really want me no need to ask,” He moved a arm around your waist, pulling you into his side a bit.

“The bags should already be in the room,” You smirked at him, and were soon at your level, the both of you getting off the elevator.

Once getting into your room you took off your heels and placed your bracelet on the table.

“I’m going to take a shower, care to join?” You commented, moving to the bathroom and starting the shower.

“It would be my pleasure,” He walked into the bathroom and started to unzip his pants.

“Babe, be patient,” You slapped his shoulder. “Turn around now, you know how self conscious I am,”

“That’s why I warned you not to eat that cake at dinner, my piece too,” He grumbled, turning around and lifting up his shirt as you took off your clothes and stepped into the shower.

“It was just so good! Being the loving, husband you are, I knew you wouldn’t mind,”

“Yeah, anything for you,” He stepped into the shower while your arms were trying to cover your breasts and vaginal area.

“Don’t look, just act,” You quietly scolded. “And try to cover your, uh,” You subtly moved a finger to point in the downwards direction and he quickly moved his hands there.

“Need another hand to help cover yours?” He joked, moving a little closer.

“I’ll kill you,” You mumbled. “Oh! Armon!” You moaned, Tony sending a sly smile and grunting. “You look like you’re enjoying this,”

“Might want to cover up that breast a little better,” He removed one hand to point at your left one.

“Damn it,” You did just that and reached for a towel which was on the toilet lid. “Ah, soap in the eye,” You voiced louder, just in case the man was listening and skeptical about it. You turned around from Tony and wrapped it around your chest area, then moving both hands to block your other.

“You really think they’re listening to us in here?”

“A good boss would. Especially if he is in this type of business.”

“I hate to know about some of your previous bosses,”

“Oh! Right there! Right there!” You yelled. “Yeah, you would. Most of them are dead though, so you won’t have to worry about that,”

“Old age, huh? What’s with old men being bosses anyways?”

“One was, but that’s not how he died. Man was a perve, had it coming,” You shrugged.

“You killed him?!”

“No, no. Not for that reason,” Tony’s mouth dropped. “Ah!” You yelled loudly, then making your breaths sound loud. “Gosh you are one messy man, good thing we did this in the water,” You smirked at DiNozzo who just mocked you.

“And you still are the easiest to ge-”

“I’m getting out now, you should too,” You removed the towel and let it drop to the floor of the shower, covering your breasts and looking for a robe, soon wrapping it around you.

While leaving the bathroom to grab your shirt and pants you heard the phone in the room start to ring and quickly rushed to it.

“Hello, Belle,” The man on the other line spoke into the phone. You could just imagine what he looked like, some rich guy with a cigar in his hand wanting some job done.

“Bonjour Monsieur,” You spoke, grateful that your mother had taught you french when you were young. “C’est qui je pense?”

(Hello, sir. Is this who I think it is?)

“Oui. Retrouvez-moi dans le salon. À neuf heures,”

(Yes. Meet me down in the lounge area. At nine o’clock.)

“D’accord. Au revoir,”

(Okay. Goodbye)

You placed the phone down, and grabbed your clothes, quickly changing into them as Tony emerged from the bathroom with his wet hair clinging to his forehead and a new, comfortable outfit on.

“Who was that, dear?” He asked, sneaking over by you.

“Un ami,” You smiled at him, tapping his nose.

“Uh, yeah,” He nodded, clearly not understanding and you just tried to stifle a laugh. “You know, grandpa, uh, Gibbs, he wants us to figure out when we should have dinner with him,”

“Ah. How about we go over for a breakfast at nine. He just got his living room refinished not too long ago, correct?”

“Sounds good. And never call me a grandpa again, DiNozzo,” Gibbs spoke into both of your earpieces.

“It’s almost nine already. I should go and ask for a extra pillow, sweetie. Get the bed ready for us, can you?” You grabbed your hotel key and put on your special boots. “No need to dress so fancy for getting something so simple,”

“DiNozzo, go with her,” Gibbs commanded. “David and McGee are heading to the lounge area now,”

“You sure you don’t want me to come with?” DiNozzo asked you.

“I’ll be fine. It’s a silly little pillow, nothing too much,” You kissed his cheek and quickly left the room. While walking down the hallway to the elevator, you took a quick look around to make sure you weren’t being followed.

Once waiting for the elevator, you fixed your boots a bit and entered when the doors opened. There was no one inside, so you pressed the ‘1st level’ button. When getting near the ‘2nd level’ the elevator stopped, indicating someone was going to get on.

It was a staff member in their normal uniform. He smiled at you with blankets in his hand and entered.

“Puis-je vous aider avec quoi que ce soit, mademoiselle?” He questioned, pulling out a gun from his side and opened the elevator door once again for two new men to appear.

(Can I help you with anything, miss?)

“Oui. En me alissa the vivre,” You told him, one of the man entering the elevator and pulling you out, the man in the staff uniform having his gun pointed at you.

(Yes. By letting me live.)

“Tsk. Ne peut faire. Vous souvenez-vous de moi?”

(No can do. Do you remember me?)

“Vous n’avez pas l’air familier,” You spoke, getting dragged down the hallway as someone reached into your ear and broke the earpiece.

(You don’t look familiar.)

“Enough of this french,” The man who was dragging you sneered. “I want to hear this bitch speak,”

“Fine,” The one in the staff uniform sighed. “I don’t think you’re the person we’re looking for. It’s a shame you think we were that stupid to not know what our employees look like,”

“You’re just so intelligent,” You commented, getting kicked in the back of the leg.

“I was speaking. You really played it off, the whole sex thing. But it’s a shame you won’t have anymore time with him, he won’t get his little pillow. At least I won’t have to worry about the real couple anymore, they knew too much and I couldn’t let that get out. All I have to do is deal with you,”

“That will be harder than you think,” You told him, the grip on your arm tightening.

“I’m always a fan of having some fun,”

“They’re going to find the bullet your men used to kill the couple. You knew we were here since the beginning,”

“Correct,” One of the men opened the door and you were led in. “With you posing as the couple, you were able to gain a connection with the couples you were seated with. That way, we could then swoop in and learn more about them, giving us the opportunity to hack into their phone and get the passwords needed,”

“You’re stupid to tell me this. I could’ve figured it out on my own, my team probably already has,” One man then put you in a chair and started to tie you up, the one in the staff uniform kicking you in the gut so you fell backwards.

“Lift her up again. I want to have my fun before she must go, I hope you don’t mind the heat,” The second man lifted your chair up and a few more punches were landed on your body.

“Tu es une racaille,” You mumbled, trying to move your arm in the tight ropes.

(You’re scum.)

“Let’s go,” The head man told the other two. One of them grabbed a gas can nearby and started to pour it on the bedsheets. The head man grabbed a match from his pocket and lit it, throwing it on the bed for the flames to begin. “Au revoir,”

They left the room and you struggled to try and move one arm.

Meanwhile DiNozzo was in the elevator with his gun in pocket, going down to the lounge area.

“Y/n can’t hear us anymore,” DiNozzo voiced into his microphone. “Did she make it to the lounge?”

“No. Damn it DiNozzo, I told you to stay with her,” Gibbs spoke, looking at DiNozzo once the elevator door opened. “David, Mcgee, take the back entrance me and DiNozzo will take the front and head up,” He demanded.

Everyone split up. Ziva and McGee ran to the back to catch two men rushing out. They quickly aimed their guns at them and announced their presence, only to receive some shots at them.

Ziva was able to shoot down on of the men and the other surrendered, McGee cuffing the one and letting a police who arrived take care of them.

“We didn’t call for backup,” McGee muttered to Ziva.

“Yeah, uh, someone called into 911 about a fire,” The police pointed to a window on the hotel building. “People should be evacuating the building now, firefighters are on their way,”

McGee’s mouth dropped as he stared at Ziva.

“How odd it happened tonight,” Ziva mumbled.

“It’s obviously intentional!” McGee exclaimed.

“I know that. I hope those guys don’t die,”

DiNozzo and Gibbs started to rush up the stairs, they could feel a bit of the heat from the room and were able to catch the man in the staff uniform in the stairway.

“Sir, are you alright?” DiNozzo stopped, grabbing onto his shoulders softly. “NCIS,”

“I’m fine, just startled, I need to get out of here,” He waved his hands and tried to slip away from DiNozzo’s grip.

“DiNozzo, that’s him,” Gibbs quickly told the agent who soon put the mans hands behind his back. “Where’s our agent?”

“She won’t make it, a fire like that, no one would,” He smiled and DiNozzo led him down the stairs.

Gibbs continued to rush up them, into the hallway that was catching more and more on fire.

“L/n! L/n!” He yelled, looking around to try and find your figure.

He saw you emerge into the hallway, bloodied and bruised, some of your shirt on fire, and a knife in your hand. He rushed to your side, letting you lean on him.

“Y/n, can you hear me?” He asked and you shook your head a little, letting him fully help you down the stairs and out of the building.

He guided you to the ambulance who tended to most of your wounds, but you refused to be transferred to a hospital.

“You need to go,” McGee tried to convince you, standing by your side.

“It would probably be for the best,” David chimed in.

“Hopefully, they can fix your hair too,” Tony laughed, looking you up and down.

“Damn you, DiNozzo,” You stood and smacked the back of his head, while he just laughed.

“Go home you three, I’ll make sure Y/n gets home alright,” Gibbs came over, waving the three agents off who spared a small goodbye or hand wave. “You ready to go, idiot.”

“I almost died, and you’re calling me a idiot,” You chuckled a little. “Help me to your car?” You asked and he let you lean on him once again.

Once the both of you were in the car it was a very quiet ride. You didn’t talk to each other, just letting silence from the long day overtake each other. He truly was nervous for your safety, thought the two of you hadn’t been dating long he felt a lot of compassion regarding you and wanted to continue your relationship smoothly. 

“I really was worried. I told you not to go alone, you should’ve let DiNozzo go with you,” He finally spoke, once you were both in his driveway, sitting in the car, in the dark.

“I’m alive. Just got kicked around a bit, I’m super grateful I always carry that knife in my boot,” You softly told him. “Don’t worry about me too much, I may be younger than you, but I have experience.”

“I know that, just don’t be so stupid last time and take the help.”

“Fine,” Gibbs got out of his seat and moved around to your door, grabbing your hand and helping you out of the car. He smiled at the factor of how easily you trusted him to care for you. “I didn’t doubt you would get me for a minute.”

“Good, you should know that.”

“Only because you still owe me a date, and I did say I would let you pick this one out,” You looked up at him with a goofy grin. It amazed him that even with being beaten up a bit, and almost dying in a fire, you could make jokes with him. 

“I say we have the little date here,” He leaned down a bit to place a gentle kiss upon your lips, smirking into it a little bit, and then moving the way you were leaning on him so he would be able to pick you up. 

“Someone’s excited.”

“Let’s watch a nice movie on the couch. I bought some creamer, so, I can make that creamed coffee you wanted because now I’m your boyfriend but still pissed you made a stupid and life threatening decision in there,”

“Good enough. Palmer will have to wait. Poor kid,” You commented as Gibbs lead you to the couch and helped you rest on it, soon moving to his kitchen to start brewing a pot of coffee. 

“That idiot will be fine.”

“Yeah, luckily for him, though I won’t be able to atend, I do have a friend that will,” You smiled to yourself, imagining how that would be going right now. 

While you lied on the couch with your boyfriend who was, secretly, doting on you, giving you his undivided attention. DiNozzo was at a bar, chatting with someone while looking around for them. 

“She said she would be at this booth,” DiNozzo whispered to himself, wallking to the booth in the corner for where they shall meet. “God, she looked so good in her profile picture, I’m so- Palmer?!”

“Tony?” He looked up from his seat. “You’re Y/n’s friend? I guess I didn’t specify the gender, and she didn’t say a specific name.”

“Y/n? She’s not that good at compute- Damn, probie.” 

[queen0fm0nsterz]

For some unexplainable reason I want to hear you tell us about the pretender

MASTERPOST

HUUHUHUHUUUU I SEE MY HYPNOSIS WORKED /lh

Thank you for this ask anon dear, we're getting straight into it. There is so many interesting things about the Pretender that I simply can't understand how she's so underrated. We're talking Lady & Six levels of character depth, people!

First off, I want to quote two asks I recently got about her that perfectly encapsulate the two sides of the Pretender as a character.

@gennethapang and @harmonia-n-gropius, thank you both so much for these. Both of you completely nailed it.

There is this duality in her.

On one end, she's a rich, spoiled kid. She gets upset when one of her dolls in not perfectly placed and has no problem throwing trantrums, or hands, over things others would consider as minimal. She is most definetely tied to the Eye, see as it's referenced in literally every single room and surroundings of the Nest, but most importantly, she has adults ready to listen to her every whim. Instead of being chased after or attacked by the monsters, the Butler patiently follows her every order, while the Craftsman works day and night to make sure she is costantly provided with beautiful, perfect dolls.

She has a stable roof over her head. She has toys, food, a safe bed, a home. She doesn't need to worry about survival and fighting for her life every day. What's more, she's wealthy: her family is rich enough for her to be living in a gigantic mansion.

When compared to the other children, she is privileged. But, she remains a child, and children can never have a good life in the Little Nightmares world.

The Pretender doesn't have any real friends. Other children don't interact with her out of fear, most likely because of her powers and appearence. Her parents are divorced; what's worse, her father hanged himself - and she knows of this, we can tell by the painting of the man hanging. Her mother isn't around, either. She left her behind. This kid has been abandoned by literally everyone. The Butler and the Craftsman are there, but they are employees, not friends and definetely not family. They provide for her material needs, but not so much for her emotional ones.

I don't blame her for wanting someone to genuinely love and care her. It's understandable, honestly. However, we are also shown that she doesn't have any idea how to form an healthy friendship; the statue is most definitive proof of it. She wants to be worshipped, maybe because that's the only way she knows.

Which... is odd. Because where would she learn such a thing? From her parents I presume, which makes me think.

Mh.

MH.

And this is where I would digress normally, but I have to say that the Pretender has a lot in common with both the Lady and the Thin Man.

It's almost like she's a fusion of the two, really. The Lady's vanity, and the Thin Man's loneliness, smacked into one single depressed child with evident parent issues. Even her powers almost seem like a fusion of theirs: the Thin Man takes away the body, leaving glitching remains behind, and the Lady absorbs the soul, with only the body left. When put together, you get both, thus leaving nothing behind, which is exactly what the Pretender does.

(Also, the effect she had on RCG when she let out that scream was very similar to the one Mono has on Six when he yelled in the tower.)

And look. I know what you're thinking. I don't want to go there.

The theory stating the Lady & the Thin Man are her parents is an interesting one and completely valid, but I don't exactly agree with it.

It's mostly the "Thin Man is the father" bit that throws me off, because in order for him to have a daughter he should be able to leave the Tower, which I think goes against the entire ending of LN 2. The thing is that he can't leave, nor grow. He's bound to stay the same, always and ever, in the same dark room until he's outlived his usefulness and replaced.

There is a way, tecnically, but if I talked about it to y'all you would think I've finally lost my mind

BUT. I will admit both of their presences are strong in the Nest. However, it's also true the Lady's is infintely more evident than the Thin Man's. The Ladies are in their little jack-in-the-boxes, all with their different rooms and stories. Plus, the Pretender's hairstyle... it does vaguely resemble the Lady's. It's as if she tried to imitate her, with the little ponytail on top and all that make up. Be a grown up, you know? Another thing they have in common would be the dolls, which they use to live out their forms of escapism in the safety of their own quarters.

When RCG has to sneak past the Pretender, it sort of resembles the Runaway sneaking past the Lady. The final scenes of the two games are also very similar; the two main characters accidentally surprise them in a moment of vulnerability while leaving the location, the antagonists let out an ear-piercing shriek that affects their surroundings in some way (RCG is frozen from shock/pain for a couple of seconds and the lights explode, leaving RK cold and in the complete darkness), then the main characters get chased until they finally die at the hands of their respective tormentor.

Finally, one last thing before we go on: going back to the Lady and her dolls. The one she was stroking was the only one with eyes so clear.

...Like the Pretender's.

And before anyone comes to me and says, "But they look nothing alike!": the Pretender is albino. Of course she's not gonna look like the Lady - infact, if she is her daughter, she ended up looking the exact opposite.

TLDR for this whole section: I'm willing to believe the Lady could be the Pretender's mother, however I'm hesitant on the whole "Thin Dad" aspect.

About her character design... she's a green coded character. While that is interesting in it of itself, I noticed it's a specific shade of green I've touched on before.

Voilà.

...Ladies Agenda aside, as I said before, the fact the Pretender is a green coded character is pretty interesting.

You see, green as a color is oftenly associated with kindness, generosity and compassion - but also envy, jealousy and greed. People with "green personalities" have a tendency of caring for others and, because they dislike conflict, more often than not they become people pleasers. They're intelligent and have a great need to love and be loved in return.

... That doesn't sound a lot like the Pretender, though, which is why I thought it was interesting. Who knows, maybe the green she wears rappresents the person she wants to be percieved as? Or maybe, the person she could have been had her life been different? Who knows. As usual, food for thought!

Thank you all for asking about the Pretender! I had tons of fun writing this <3

[softcallofdutyimagines]

Hello!! Can we have an couple of HCs of the safehouse bois (COD: Cold War) loving their curvy fem s/o? (and maybe trying to make her feel happy in her body if she's insecure of feels weird?)

Thankie and sorry for the oddly specific request 😅

Djsjsjsj ok ik you have like two other requests, and they'll be coming!!! But this struck such a mood I had to skip the line lol.

Honestly, like the way I tried to treat myself to some ✨ s p i c e y ✨ lingerie that just arrived and it fits literally everywhere else except that, ofc the cup size is an absolute JOKE, i-

Anyway, I digress lmao. Thank you for the request(s) btw, and enjoy!!!

---

Adler

Personally, he doesn't strike me as the kind of guy to have a particularly strong preference for any one "type"

But in the era where the super tall, super slim, super models reign supreme, he understands that sometimes it's hard to feel pretty if you're built like anything else

After all, I don't think any of the guys know how it feels to see yourself as "unattractive" more then he does

I mean, if he'd been cut a little deeper or on a different angle, he could've needed whole skin grafts, or even physical therapy for his jaw

And who wants a guy as messed up and broken down as that, right?

But you... Oh, you're gorgeous

Adler is very soft and gentle when it comes to his appreciation for you and your body

While he does know how to express himself, he's not really the grand gesture type, like some of the others are

He is the biggest self love hypocrite, always quick to get down on himself and his facial scars, but absolutely cannot STAND to see you upset over you body

You chide him for this now and then, but he usually jokes it away

I know I said Adler doesn't really have a type, but don't think for a second that he'd pass up on a great thing when he gets it

I don't want to say "handsy" but he definitely likes to just... Touch you, when you're alone together

Not even necissarily in a sexual way, he just likes to appreciate the shape of you, you know?

Very into hugs from behind, or really at any angle, as long as he gets to feel his arms around your waist

Also, you can catch him absent mindedly caressing your hips with his knuckles or a lone finger whenever he's standing around with you

Hudson

Oh y'all ain't ready for this one lmao

I am 99% certain that behind that steely facade, is a man who loves nothing more then a THICC juicy Queen™

I'm so serious, like the curvier the better for this dirty dog lmao

The best part is, that the fun isn't in that he just goes feral when you two are alone (although he certainly could, in a rare mood)

He's actually really shy about it, and he doesn't want you to feel like that's the only reason he loves you

And while you do appreciate the respect he has for you, you'd be lying if you said you didn't like to tease him

A favorite of yours is to walk into his home office half or fully naked and watch him, very obviously, struggle to stay focused on his paper work

He knows he's weak, but damn it he can never last long before giving in and handing over whatever kind of attention you're seeking

You know, whatever that may be 😏

When you're feeling insecure however, he can sense it immediately and always seeks to get to the bottom of whatever is causing you to feel that way

Although he's rather direct, he's tactful and tries his best to know the right thing to say

He's a great listener, and will never hesitate to tell you how beautiful and special you are to him

Lazar

Lmao, I don't think there is any universe in which Lazar would not be in full support of being with a curvy woman

Especially as a big guy himself, you two are an absolute power couple

He is both literally and metaphorically your biggest hype man when it comes to your appearance

Also, 10/10 likes to give you gifts of clothes and the like that he thinks you might appreciate/look pretty darn good in

Honestly, it is rare to feel down about your body when in a relationship with him, but everyone gets insecure sometimes, and he gets that

Thankfully, he's a master comforter, and is always at the ready to give you the treatment you need to feel better

Typically you can expect snacks and cuddles if you're just feeling sad, and stuff like a massage or body kisses and so forth if you need a reminder that you're literally the most gorgeous woman on earth

Oh, and he's very protective of you and defensive of your looks

I kind of hate to use this terminology lmao, but Lazar is the Alpha™ everywhere he goes, and he has no problem reminding other guys of it

So if he sees someome else checking you out, he'll be sure to block their view and do something like make direct eye contact until they leave you be

Have you ever had a 6'4, powerlifter looking, tank of a man sneer directly at you before?

Not a good feeling, I assure you

Needless to say, you don't have to put up with much, if any harassment or other stupidity on Lazar's watch

Mason

Alex strikes me as the type who doesn't buy into the paper thin beauty standard that society like to push

Obviously that's great if you're just naturally thin and all! But mostly he's totally down for the curvy, "built like a brick house" type of woman

He appreciates the way that you can keep up with him when he has to do physical things around or outside the house

Alaska is a rather unforgiving place after all, so he finds great comfort in the support and companionship you have to offer him

You're like his little amazonian goddess, and he's always in awe of not only how unbelievably beautiful you are, but also how hardy and tough you can be

In fact, you and your body are so normalized and loved by him in his mind that it genuinely catches him off guard when you say you're feeling insecure about it

But in times like that, he loves to tell you how beautiful your body is, not just for the way it looks but for the things it can do

You're built so strong and tough, but also soft and feminine... he can't even think about being with anyone else

He's very into body worship, like Lazar is, but Alex is a lot more gentle and is extremely conscious of making sure you're alright as he goes along kissing and caressing

If he could only show you how beautiful you are to him, he would in a heartbeat, but for now he just hopes his words and actions are enough

Sims

Oh, you already know Sims loves a thicc, curvy snack of a woman lmao

Skinny guys always love the curvy ladies

He doesn't really go feral when you two are alone, but he's not exactly shy about having this hands all over you either

For sure he always greets you with a compliment, whether it be a look, a whistle, or words... he's prepared

Also, he's very vocal in having you understand that there is not a single outfit you look "bad" or "unflattering" in, even if it's just sweats and a t-shirt

In fact, he is so confident in you, that he loves to show you off when he can and if you're comfortable

Always introduces you as "his girl" and is never afraid to point out your new outfit, hair-do, nails, ect

I feel that Lawrence would be another case where it's quite rare indeed to feel insecure about your body, and so when such times do arise he takes it seriously

He's basically a gentler, more emotional version of Hudson

By that I mean, he's the type to want to talk it out (if you're up to it) and ask what's wrong or if someone said something to you

You'll always have a reliable listener and food advice giver in him, and somehow that seems to always do the trick

Woods

Honestly, Woods is Hudson part 2, except that he has all the vocalized pride of loving curvy women as Sims and Lazar

He's still careful to make sure he doesn't come off as a creep or something, mind you, but complimenting and loving on your body just comes naturally to him

Extremely handsy in private, and you've definitely swatted his hands away from your hips, waist, back, ect more then once

In public, I wouldn't exactly say "handsy" but he's determined to make sure everyone knows you're with him

He usually escorts you places with a hand gently placed either just above your tailbone or protectively wrapped around your waist

As independent as you may be, you must admit, it's nice to feel like a princess everywhere you go, escorted around by your knight in shining flannel

He'll even offer you his arm if he's feeling particularly gentlemanly, because yes, miracles can happen

Unfortunately, Frank is probably the worst wordsmith of all the gang, and is next to clueless on what to say if you're feeling down and insecure

At least to his credit he'll usually start off by admitting to that fact before giving it a try

"Well, you know I'm shit with words, but... I hope you also know that I love you the way you are"

Thankfully what he lacks in words, he makes up for in physical affection

Even if you're really only comfortable with some cuddling, he's gonna cuddle you so good!!! He's determined and will stop at nothing

After all, whatever it takes to make you feel every bit as amazing as he knows you are

[breanime]

Five Senses: Sight (with Bonus Boy)

Billy Russo: You were the first thing Billy saw in his dreams overseas. No matter what horrors he had seen or committed that day, no matter how much blood was on his hands when he laid down to rest, no matter the dirt under his nails or the sweat on his skin, every night, he dreamt of you. And in his dreams, he was cleansed by you. In his dreams, Billy would see your bright eyes and that smile, that special smile you had for him and him alone, and no matter what atrocities he had seen or done, that smile would heal him. That smile, your smile, would warm him down to his bones--and that wasn’t a metaphor, it was true. Huddled in a flimsy tent with Frank and 12 other men, a freezing rain pouring down all around, nothing but a thin blanket and his fatigues to keep him covered, but Billy was warm. When he saw you, he was engulfed by your warmth, by your smile, by your love. Just the sight of you, dream or not, was enough to put Billy at easy, no matter where he was in the world. He’d memorized every part of you, and he pictured you, inch by glorious inch, when he needed your comfort. It wasn’t as good as being with you, of course, but it was a saving grace for him, and Billy was not a man who easily settled into being saved...unless his hero was you. 

Logan Delos: Logan was a man of wealth and taste. He’d been born into his riches, and he’d become desensitized to many of the incredible things he’d seen in his time. He had seen sights that would leave an ordinary men speechless, had gone places that were normally closed off to public eyes. It didn’t faze him. Indescribable sights, things people would save up all their lives to see, seen and shrugged off within seconds by Logan. But the sight of you? Damn. You could drop him to his knees. Logan had just gotten off of his private Delos jet after spending a week lounging in the most decadent suite he could find in Abu Dhabi; the view had been described as “breathtaking”, but Logan hadn’t found himself having any difficult breathing as he looked out at the expansive city, drowned in orange by the sunset. But now, as Logan walked into your shared penthouse, he was breathless. You were laid out on the couch, the TV playing softly in the background, and you were fast asleep. It wasn’t an elegant sleep; you weren’t Scarlett O’Hara draped over a satin lounge chair, you were you, knocked out in the middle of the afternoon wearing one of his shirts. And you were, without a doubt, without exaggeration, the most exquisite thing he’d ever seen. Wordlessly, because he was speechless, Logan sat on the edge of the couch and reached out to you. Looking at you, your mouth slightly open, wearing his shirt, you arm splayed across your forehead, Logan felt himself melt. Truly, you were the most striking sight he had ever seen.

Jax Teller: Seeing Jax dressed all in orange, chains around his ankles, two armed guards on either side of him, should have made you sad. It should have made you realize that, as much as you loved Jax, he was a criminal, and moments like this were bound to happen again and again if you stayed with him. You should leave--now, while you still could. But when he sat across from you, and you looked into those blue eyes of his... You knew that you weren’t going anywhere. “Talked to my Mom earlier,” he said, settling into his seat, “she said my bail should be posted in a few days, and then I’ll be home... I’m sorry, darling, I know this isn’t what you signed up for--” “How much more does Gemma need for bail?” You asked, watching as his eyes widened. “Babe, you don’t have to--” “I’m gonna be your Old Lady some day,” you answered back, “I need to learn how to do this.” You watched as his smile spread, his eyes wrinkling. “You’re gonna be my Old Lady, huh?” He said back. You leaned forward, making sure he was looking right into your eyes. You could see a warmth in them when he looked at you, an affection there that was for you, and you only. “I love you, Jax, and I’m gonna spend the rest of my life with you. But in order to do that, we need to get you out of this place. So come on, tell me how much she needs to make your bail.” He chuckled, and leaned in as well, “You don’t realize how much I needed to see you...to hear you say that,” he reached out for your hand, and you looked down and smiled at the sight of his hand in yours, “You’re a sight for sore eyes, darlin’.” 

Coco Cruz: The doctor said his eyes would heal, but it would be a while. And though he was a sniper, Coco wasn’t a patient man. You sat on the bed, watching him pace around in circles in your shared bedroom. “Coco,” you sighed. “What if my eyes never get better?” He asked, stopping and turning to you, the white patch over his injured eye wrinkled as he frowned. “Coco...” “What if I can never ride again? Or use a fucking gun? How am I gonna work?” “Coco...” He fell to his knees in front of the bed, and you reached out and caressed his face. His dark brown eye was watery with emotion, and you heart clenched at the pain you could see there. “What if I can’t see our baby?” He asked, his hand going to rest on your growing stomach. You felt tears spring to your eyes, but you held them back. “You will. Okay? The doctor said it can be treated, and it’ll take rehab and time, but you will see again. I promise you.” Coco nodded, leaning into you for a hug. You closed your eyes, wishing you could give him the gift of sight, wishing you could will him to heal faster. But you couldn’t. All you could do--all either of you could do--was wait. And wait you did. And the day your baby girl was born, the first thing she saw was Coco, his eyes filled with tears as he looked down at his newborn child. It had taken a lot of work, cost him so much time and pain, but it was all worth it when he could hold his baby girl in his arms and look into her eyes, his vision fully restored. It was worth the wait. 

Angel Reyes: You and Angel had made your New Year’s resolutions together, and working out more had been at the top of the list. You’d both agreed that the two of you should exercise more, and it made sense to do it together and motivate one another, but now that you were here... You could see that it was a mistake. Watching a shirtless, sweaty Angel lift weights, his low grunts filling the air, was beyond distracting. It was erotic. He grinned at you, a dumbbells slung behind his gleaming shoulders. You wanted to lick the beads of sweat trailing down his tattoos. “You good, baby?” He teased, an eyebrow raised at you. You swallowed, your eyes unable to look away from the perfection that was Angel Reyes. “I--good. Yup. Good,” you said, watching the bulge in Angel’s shorts as he squatted down. “Mm, very well constructed sentence there,” he said, straightening up and placing the dumbbell on the rack. You stared at his ass as he turned around, and you felt your skin flush with the heat of desire. It should be illegal for one man to look so good. After all, this was a public place and here Angel was just being a fucking piece of art. “Babe, stop staring, you’re gonna make me blush,” he teased you, “Shh,” you dug into your pocket and pulled out your phone, “Don’t mind me. Keep working.” “Are you taking pictures of me?” “Maybe,” you answered, biting your lip as you snapped another picture, “Keep working out, this is good inspiration.” He laughed, doing as you said. By the end of your session, Angel had worked up quite a sweat, and you had amassed an impressive amount of sexy photos of your man. All in all, it was a good workout. 

Miguel Galindo: There was nothing like the sight of Miguel in cartel mode. Every step, every glance, every twitch of his eyebrow turned you on. He stood behind his desk, both hands spread out over the papers and files that covered it, glaring at the men in the room. He was the very picture of power. You stood off to the die, summoned there to be a witness, your eyes fixated on your man. You watched the words spill from his mouth, you watched the men--powerful in their own right--visibly shrink as Miguel spoke. The topic of conversation wasn’t important to you; Miguel had all of your attention. You stared openly, your eyes going from his sinful mouth down to his large hands, watching them flex as he gestured over at the men. His eyes were hard, eyebrows furrowed as he showed his displeasure with his employees. Distantly, you heard their apologizes and his acceptance of them, but really, all you could do was drink in the sight that was your husband. He was in his element, as much as Miguel wanted to go legit, and as well suited to that world he was, he was a cartel man. It was in his blood. And it came naturally to him. You watched as he lifted his hand and pointed to the door; you could see the men scurry out from the corner of your eye, but your focus was on Miguel. He turned to you, a smirk growing on his kissable lips. “I can see what you’re thinking, mi amor,” he purred, “Why don’t you come over here and let me give you what you want?”

Nick Amaro: As soon as Nick saw you, he grabbed you. He held you tight, his eyes closing, visions of you hurt and afraid playing behind his eyelids. “I’m alright, Nick,” you assured him, whispering into the crook of his neck, “I’m alright...” He nodded, finally pulling back to have a look at you. There was blood on your face, and he reached out to wipe it, leaving a soft red smear on your cheeks. “Don’t ever do that again,” he huffed, his eyes boring into yours, “Never, okay?” “Nick,” you said carefully, running a hand through his hair, “you know I can’t promise that,” you watched his jaw clench, “if I’m the only thing between a perp and a victim, I’m going to stand in front f the victim, every time.” He closed his eyes again, trying not to see the truth in yours. “Nick,” you repeated his name until he opened his eyes again, “I’m fine. You had my back. Liv had my back. I’m safe, and so it that little girl.” You turned, taking his hand in yours. “Look,” you directed him gently. A few feet away, the little girl who’d been kidnapped was in the arms of her sobbing mother, safe and sound. The man who’d taken here was in the back of a bus, bleeding from the gunshot you’d given him. “We did that,” you told Nick, looking up at him, “Look at that girl. She’s the reason we do what we do. She’s the reason I can’t promise I won’t ever do this again.” He nodded, turning back to you and taking you in his arms. “I know,” he said, kissing your forehead, “Just... Next time, don’t leave my line of sight, okay? Can you at least do that?” You smiled, “I can do that.” 

Johnny Tuturro: Johnny looked like a god, Apollo in the flesh. He was bathed in light, the rays of the sun shining on his brown skin, his smile wide and warm. You stood on the beach, Jakes on one side of you, Charlie on the other, and you didn’t even try to hide the fact that you were staring at Johnny. And really--who could blame you? He, Mike, and Briggs had just come to shore after catching a few waves, and Johnny was looking like a freaking dream. “Damn girl, stop drooling,” Briggs joked as he walked past you, taking Charlie’s hand and leading her away. Mike and Jakes laughed, following suit, and you watched, not at all concerned with the others, as Johnny approached you. “Wanna take a dip?” He asked. You shook your head, your hands immediately going to his chest, “Why are you like this?” “Like what?” “Like... this!” You stepped back, gesturing to his everything. “Look at you! You’re freaking glowing, you got the abs all out... Keep playing, and I’m gonna put a baby in you.” Johnny laughed, and the sight of him, skin glistening in the sunlight, water pooling in the deep crevices of his collarbones, had you clenching with desire. He leaned in close, his mouth right on the shell of your ear. “Since you like watching me so much, how ‘bout we go home, and we can go the bathroom, and you can watch me break you off in the reflection of the mirror, yeah?” You grabbed his hand, nearly running back to Graceland, eager to see what he had in store for you. 

Rio: You blinked, trying to test to see if you were dreaming. “R-Rio...” You gasped out. He stood in front of you, dressed in all black, a smirk on his lips. “Hey mama.” You jumped out of bed, but stopped yourself from running to him. He was dead. Rhea said he was dead. There hadn’t been a funeral, but she said he was dead and now... “I know,” he said, anticipating your thoughts, “I know. But, just look at me. Look at me. I’m here.” You looked at him; he had a beard now, and a nose ring, but it was him. He was real. He was here. “What...?” “It’s a long story, and I’ll tell you everything,” he answered your unasked question, “really, I shouldn’t even be here, but... I had to see you, baby. I had to see you.” You rushed towards him, burying your face in his chest as he held you. It had been months since you’d seen Rio, but it felt like a lifetime. You hadn’t really registered, until this moment, how much you had missed seeing him: his soft lips, his shorn hair and low lidded eyes. He was speaking to you, whispering that he was home now, and you pulled back to look at him. He looked different, harder, and you could see a change in him. “What happened to you?” You asked, your voice coming out in a whisper. “Remember the housewife?” “With the big boobs?” He chuckled, shaking his head at you fondly. “Yeah. She put three slugs in me,” he explained, and you looked him over, imagining the bullet wounds that you knew were under those dark clothes. “I’m good, mama. But I’m pissed,” he leaned down and kissed you, and your eyes fluttered shut as his lips moved against yours, “so you and me are gonna get justice.” 

Bonus Boy

Chris Zapata: Baseball had never been your favorite sport. You’d found it boring and tedious. And then you started dating Chris and suddenly, you were standing up in the stands every week, screaming and cheering as he played. You sighed dreamily, your chin in your hand as you watched Zap on the field. He wasn’t really do much of anything--actually, he (and Maz, and Barone, and Vinny) were all watching Murray throw a fit in the outfield. But God, did Chris look good. It was getting late, and the sun was setting, and it seemed like the very last rays of the day were clinging to Chris’ skin, placing a halo around him. You could see from your spot in the stands the sweat glistening on his skin, could see his eyes widen as Murray threw his bat at the score board, and you sighed again. You couldn’t even be sure if the team was winning or not (Murray’s tantrum suggested they were not), all you knew was that Chris looked like an angel. Your heart stopped in your chest when Chris’ eyes met yours, and you watched a smirk grow on his lips. He knew you were watching him. He knew you couldn’t look away. The sight of him like this--in his element--made you weak. You couldn’t wait for the game to be over so you could inspect your man at a much closer angle. 

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