#i think i’ve gotten off track but i’m just having a lot of thoughts this morning

[appropriatelystupid]

this might be an unpopular opinion but i’d rather have a full agnes of westview spinoff than only get more future agatha as a mentor/sidekick to billy and tommy

[criminalamnesia]

ending 2 for tolerate it! this was my original idea for the ending!

I just wanted to clarify that I’m writing these two endings bc of the feedback I’ve received. The first ending is for those who wanted them to reconcile/make amends, and I wanted to give those readers some closure.

this ending is for those who want reader to be happy without him (which was my original idea lol). anyways I know a lot of people didn’t like ending 1 and that’s okay!! but here’s ending two, I hope you like it better :)

[ also, this takes place in between the time that reader leaves simon/price and the last line of part two! ]

part one here, part two here, ending 1 here

your friend graciously let you live with them for a few months while you got back on your feet.

you went to therapy. stopped crying whenever you thought of him or even his name. started taking care of yourself again.

you move out and find this cute little house. it’s small, cozy. you adore it, and your friend helps you move in.

you make it your own with colors and trinkets and pictures. there’s nothing in that house that serves as a reminder of your time with him. you’d gotten rid of all the pictures, all the gifts he’d bought you before things turned sour.

fuck him. he didn’t deserve to see your growth and your happiness. he didn’t deserve anything from you.

you get used to being on your own again. it’s nice. you don’t worry about a man who is halfway across the world. don’t worry about baking a cake for his return or setting up streamers. don’t worry about how damaged he’ll be when he walks through the door.

you’re happy. you love your job, your home, your friends. you treat yourself to coffee every wednesday afternoon, and that’s when you meet him.

you’ve ordered your coffee and are sitting at one of the cafe’s little tables, scrolling on your phone, when a man clears his throat.

you look up, and he’s got the kindest smile you’ve ever seen.

“hi,” he says, and you give a small smile as you click off your phone.

“um, hi?” you say, a little unsure of why he’s speaking to you.

“not to sound weird or anything,” he begins, and you give a small laugh.

“y’know, whenever someone says that, whatever they say next does tend to sound weird.”

he nods, that smile on his lips growing a smidge wider. “right. so, I guess this will be weird then, huh? but I’ve noticed you here every wednesday, and I just wanted to tell you you’re beautiful.”

you blush. you don’t think a man has ever been so straightforward with you, and although you do think it’s kind of weird, you try to just focus on the compliment.

but your guard is up. you don’t know him.

“oh, thank you. that’s sweet,” you reply, and he’s still looking down at you.

“can I sit?” he asks, which takes you by surprise.

“um, sure? I guess?” you say, and it sounds more like a question than a statement, but he’s sliding into the seat across from you.

he introduces himself, and you tell him your name. he says it’s pretty. you’re starting to think he’s coming on too strong.

but as the two of you begin to talk, you start to realize that’s just who he is. he’s a flirt, a flatterer, but it’s good natured.

it’s easy to talk to him. he keeps the conversation going, and he seems generally interested in what you have to say. it’s a stark difference from your last relationship.

but then he tells you he’s military, and your heart nearly stops.

“oh,” you say, a small frown on your lips.

“that an issue?” he says, and his tone is teasing. he doesn’t know— how could he? but your face says it all.

his brows furrow, and he gets serious for the first time since he’d sat across from you. he starts to reach for your hand, but decides against it. again, the two of you don’t know each other, and he’s aware of that.

“I don’t have a good track record with men in the military,” you tell him, trying to lighten the mood. he can tell something’s wrong, but he doesn’t push. he takes the bait, and you’re grateful. it makes you like him even more.

that’s why you end up talking until the place closes. the employees are practically shooing you out as you and the military man apologize profusely.

you’re on the sidewalk now, and he’s smiling at you. you find yourself smiling back.

“d’you mind if I get your number?” he asks.

as much as you enjoyed talking to him, you’re still unsure. you just recovered from everything that happened— are still recovering. you don’t want to rush into anything. so, you shake your head.

“if you’re serious,” you begin, looking up at him. “I’ll see you on another wednesday.”

he nods, a mischievous smile on his face. “im up to the challenge.”

you give a small laugh, then tell him goodnight. you turn and begin to walk towards your car, and you’re smiling like an idiot.

you don’t want to get you hopes up, but that little naive part of you— a part of you you’d thought was dead and gone— is making you. you try to stamp it back down.

next wednesday, you don’t see him, and you’re a little sad about it. you don’t see him the wednesday after that, either.

you don’t see him for a few months, actually. and after a few weeks, you’ve stopped thinking about him.

but then one wednesday, you’re sitting in that coffee shop, and there he is.

he’s wearing a short sleeve shirt, and you can see fresh cuts and scrapes along his arms. he asks if he can sit, and you oblige, gesturing to the seat across from you.

“sorry for disappearing on you,” he says, and you shake your head. he doesn’t owe you anything. you barely know each other.

“that day we talked, i ended up gettin’ deployed a few days later. didn’t have your number, so…” he trails off with a cheeky smile, and you grin as you roll your eyes.

“so im to blame, hm?” you say, and he nods.

“oh, absolutely.” he’s teasing, and you laugh.

“then let’s amend that.” you hand him your phone and he lights up. he taps his number in quickly before handing the phone back to you. you send him a quick ‘hi’ so your number will pop up in his phone.

“didn’t forget about you, though,” he says, and you blush. this man certainly has a way with words. “that’s why im here. glad to see you���re still a creature of habit.”

“is that a bad thing?” you ask, and he shakes his head.

“nah, I don’t think so.”

your phone chimes then. it’s one of your friends, asking you if you can come over. you type a quick reply and start to gather your things.

“leavin’ so soon?” he says, and you give a small nod.

“friend emergency.”

he nods. “understood. well, I’ll see you around then, yeah?” he smiling as he pushes himself out of his chair.

“you do have my number now,” you remind him. “we don’t have to wait on chance encounters.”

he hums in agreement. “that’s true, but I prefer face-to-face, y’know? especially since yours is so pretty.”

“you’re a flirt,” you tell him, but you’re blushing, and he chuckles.

“guilty.”

you bid him goodbye and walk towards the exit, your mind instantly shifting gears to your friend. you don’t think about the military man again until he texts you that night.

‘friend okay?’ he types.

‘all good.’ you respond.

he’s typing back for a good minute. the bubble disappears, then reappears.

‘if there are no more friend crises for the foreseeable future, and im not shipped off to fight bad guys, how about a proper date?’

you smile as you read the message.

‘sure.’ you respond, and he sends back a smiley face.

a first date turns into a second, then a third, then a fourth. they’re spread out over a year because of his job, but you don’t find yourself minding that much. he treats you so much differently than the last man did.

he eventually asks you to be his partner, and you say yes. of course you’re a little hesitant— things with your last military man started off good, too. but you feel like it’s different this time. he’s different.

you don’t know it, but every time he’s deployed, he talks his squad’s ear off about you. tells them you’re the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, and that you’re so funny. tells them he’s gonna ask you to move in with him.

but he never mentioned your name. maybe he forgot, or maybe he just didn’t want to share that piece of you with them.

“you never shut up about this lover of yours,” simon/price says one day while they’re eating in the mess hall. although they’re not in the same squad, they’re friends, and they happen to be on base at the same time. “no way they’re real.”

your man just grins and holds out his phone, showing off his lockscreen. it’s a picture of you with your head thrown back in laughter. he’d taken it on one of your dates.

simon/price’s face darkens almost imperceptibly before he masks it. that’s you. he hadn’t thought about you in ages, but he knows that’s you in that picture. now everything comes rushing back.

your lover doesn’t notice the other man’s expression shift. he doesn’t realize that the man across from him knows you.

you had told him more about the man who broke your heart, but you’d never mentioned his name. you didn’t want to risk him knowing him.

it’s a good thing you’d never mentioned the name, because if your lover knew, he’d punch him in the jaw.

the conversation eventually shifts away from you, and simon/price is grateful. your man is none the wiser.

when he gets back home, he asks you to move in. you tell him no at first. you’re still a little broken. he understands, and doesn’t hold it against you. he takes it in stride, and you’re grateful.

you don’t know how you got so lucky this time. you don’t know how this man, who was so understanding, so kind, so caring, had practically fallen into your lap. maybe it was karma from your last relationship.

the universe crushed you once, and to make up for it, they dropped this man into your life. whatever it was, you were thankful.

the second time he asks you to move in with him, you say yes. he helps you with everything, and the whole time he’s smiling like an idiot. even when you almost drop a shelf on his toe, or when you argue with him about where to hang a picture.

you two end the night eating take out on the couch and watching trashy tv. he decides right then that he’s going to marry you one day.

a few months after you move in, he tells you he wants you to meet his friends.

you’re nervous, but he reassures you it will all be fine. tells you that they’ll love you. so, you get yourself ready and then he’s helping you into his truck, and your leg is shaking the whole way to the bar.

he puts a comforting hand on your knee. gives you a dazzling smile.

“they’ll love you,” he tells you. you nod.

when you get to the crowded bar, he leads you by the hand inside. you’re towed along behind him, so you don’t see his friends until you’re standing right in front of the booth they occupy.

you scan their faces, and you don’t recognize any of them. you’re thankful— a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders. he introduces you to them, and you fit in easily.

the night is going well until your man mentions simon/price’s name. he couldn’t know, you’d never told him. he was telling the story of how simon/price hadn’t believed him when he was talking about you.

the rest of his friends were laughing, but you were tense. he noticed immediately, shoulder nudging yours as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“you okay?” he murmured, and you nodded.

he could tell you were lying, but he didn’t push it. didn’t even bring it up again until the two of you were home.

“how do you know simon/price?” he asked you as you hung your coat up on the rack. you frowned as you turned to face him.

“he was the one I dated before you. the guy who broke my heart. the one I told you about, remember?”

your man goes silent. he’s looking at you, his fists clenched at his sides. he believes you. there’s not a doubt in his mind, even for a second, that you’re not telling the truth.

“I didn’t want to tell you his name,” you admit, taking a step towards him. “in case you knew him. didn’t want to make things complicated.”

he’s still silent, his eyes trained on you as you slowly approach. an expression you can’t name paints his face.

“I understand if you want to end things,” you tell him, and that gets him moving again. he’s shaking his head. “I don’t want to come between you and your friends.”

“fuck him,” he spits, and he reaches his arms out to you. you step into his embrace and take a shaky breath. “fuckin’ bastard. I showed him a picture of you, and he didn’t say anything. I was gonna invite him tonight, but he’s on assignment, and—” he inhales sharply as his hands rest on your back. “and now im gonna break his fucking jaw.”

you push yourself back, your eyes finding your lover’s. you shake your head. “it’s not worth it. besides, don’t make any enemies within your base. you’ve got enough of those already.”

you can tell he wants to argue, but he doesn’t. he nods after a moment. silence fills the room.

“we don’t run in the same circles, usually,” he tells you, his voice quiet. “known each other since enlistment. got assigned to different squads. kept running into each other, though. kept in touch.”

“you can still—” you begin, but he interrupts.

“no, fuck him. I can’t be his friend when he’s treated you like shit. fucker will be lucky if I don’t blacken his fuckin’ eye.”

you don’t say anything. you pull yourself back towards his chest, and he holds you tight.

you don’t say anything, but your heart swells. this man, the one in your arms, is everything that he wasn’t. he doesn’t tolerate you, he celebrates you. loves you unconditionally. communicates and compromises. doesn’t pull away.

that’s why, when he asks you to marry him a month later, you say yes without thinking. because you don’t need to think.

the ceremony is small. friends and family gather and celebrate the two of you. you laugh and dance and drink the night away with the love of your life by your side.

and you don’t think of the man that broke your heart anymore. don’t give him the time of day, because you’ve moved on to something far greater. you’ve moved on to what you deserve.

a few years down the road, when your husband has finally retired, you’re making your way down the road to meet him at the coffee shop that brought you together.

someone calls your name, and your blood runs cold. you know that voice, and although you haven’t thought about who it belongs to in years, you doubt you’ll ever truly forget it.

he’s calling your name from somewhere behind you. you don’t turn around.

instead, you pull open the door of the coffee shop, step inside, and smile when you see your husband sitting at the same table you’d met him at all those years ago.

——————————————————————

author’s note:

ending 2 is finally here! while writing this, I originally pictured the reader getting with Gaz/johnny; however, I wasn’t sure how that would turn out.

how would they still work with simon/price after knowing everything? how would you go so long without hearing about/meeting gaz/johnny’s squad mates?

I didn’t know, and that’s why I scrapped the idea. You can still picture them, though! but I thought it best to have the love interest someone kinda detached from the 141.

anyways, hope you enjoyed :)

[lnfours]

doll | l.n

summary: ‘i’m not even joking when i say i’ve fallen in love w the way you write lando you have me giggling every single time and i love it - i’m not sure if your requests are open rn, but cld i request a lando x reader enemies to lovers kinda vibe? honestly whatever you wanna go with is fine but i need need tooth rotting fluff rn so maybe he has a nickname for her that only he uses and there’s a lot of oblivious-ness from both of them over the fact that they like each other :’‘)’ - @mars-dreamworld

warnings: fluff, language, enemies to lovers, female!racer, just overall a whirlwind of emotions. strap in.

masterlist | ask box 💌

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

lando norris was absolutely, most definitely, 100% the most insufferable person you had ever met.

in the beginning of the year, mclaren had announced that you’d be joining the team as a third driver, and of course people men took it to social media to express how they felt women didn’t belong in the sport. that racing was a ‘real man’s’ sport.

and now you needed to prove them all wrong, prove you were worth your spot on the team. you know you didn’t have to, that it wouldn’t necessarily change people’s minds, but you worked hard to be here. countless sleepless nights, crashes, tunings, everything, was worth this moment.

and now it was your chance. oscar had ended up with an injury after a crash in one of the practice races over the weekend, ultimately giving you his spot until he was recovered.

you and lando hadn’t really gotten along. you had found yourself battling with him on the track, the two of you going head to head in the garage after practices. you had thought his ego and his sarcasm was unattractive, whereas he simply just saw you as a threat.

but, deep down, he had a soft spot for you that he kept buried under the fake hatred. he didn’t actually hate you, who could? he admired your hard work and dedication, but be couldn’t help but feel like you were trying to take his spot.

“what the fuck, norris?!” you yelled, throwing your helmet to the ground as you stormed over to him. he wore a smug look on his face that you would’ve found attractive if it weren’t for the fact that he felt the need to cut you off in turn 5.

“what?”

“are you thinking with your brain or your dick?!” you shoved his chest, but he didn’t move a muscle. he didn’t even budge, just looked down at you with those stupidly gorgeous green eyes.

“you’d know if i was thinking with my dick, doll.”

“don’t call me that.” you gave him a hard look and he put his hands up in fake surrender, shaking them like he was scared.

and that’s where it all started, that stupid fucking nickname. every time he said it, it made your blood boil, made you want to connect your knee with his crotch. now that he knew how to press your buttons, he wasn’t ever going to let you live.

right now, your face was red as your blood boiled, sitting in the drivers room as your leg bounced. the two of you had it out again today, the crew immediately separating the two of you and telling you both to knock it off.

the embarrassment from your crew telling you to quit acting like a child replayed in your head the rest of the day and as you sat in drivers room, and slowly your anger turned into sadness. you sucked in a shaky breath, trying to keep your composure, but you failed. the tear rolled down your cheek and you sniffled to yourself.

but of course, the door opened at the wrong time, causing you to wipe your cheeks quickly before looking at who decided to barge in. your eyes met lando’s green ones, which immediately softened upon looking at you.

“can i help you with something?”

he licked his lips, his brain going a mile a minute. why were you crying? was it because of him? fuck.

“i uhm,” he stammered over his words, letting out a breath before speaking, “are you crying?”

you shook your head, wiping your cheek on the shoulder of your race suit, “no.”

he knew better, though. the door closed behind him as he sat across from you, “you don’t have to lie, y/n.”

the way your name sounded rolling off his tongue with that stupid accent made your stomach do flips, but you refused to give in. this is what he wanted, right? pull you close enough to destroy you and prove to everyone that you’re actually not good enough to be here.

“why do you care?” you asked, an eyebrow raising, “it’s not like you actually give a fuck, so can you go somewhere else with your fake sympathy?”

he immediately got defensive, “what makes you think i don’t care about you? would i have run over to you the other day at practice when you crashed if i didn’t care about you?”

you thought back to last week, your car going into the barrier on the track. lando had seen the crash, immediately following the crew onto the track and ignoring the drop in his stomach. you had climbed out, shaken up but okay when he reached you. he grabbed onto your shoulders after you tugged your mask and helmet off, your eyes distant as he searched them.

“y/n?” his voice was laced with concern, “y/n, are you okay?”

you snapped out of it, meeting his eyes before you looked down at your body, “i think so…?”

he grabbed your face into his hands gently, turning your face side to side as he tried to examine you. the medics pulled up, rushing over to you.

“it’s okay, we’ve got it from here.” the female said to lando. he hesitated before he let go, letting them lead you over to the back of the ambulance to check you over. you looked back at him, the feeling of his hands on your cheeks lingering as they ushered you in.

you looked back at the brit, shrugging, “i dunno.”

he chuckled, but it wasn’t laced with humor, more like disappointment, “okay,”

“why would i think that when you’re always trying to prove that you’re better than me?”

he didn’t say anything, looking down at the tile floor, “because i’m threatened by you.”

you scoffed, “tell me something i don’t know.”

“no, you don’t get it,” he said, sitting up again, “i’m threatened by you because you’re good. you’re insanely good. you race well, you train hard, everyone here loves you, the fans. you’re an inspiration. something i’ve always wanted to be for someone.”

your attitude shifted, looking over at the boy across from you. he wore a sad, regretful face as he played with the zipper on his suit.

“you’re an inspiration, lando,” you said, “the little boy who dressed up like you the other day? the one who said he wanted to be just like you?”

he shrugged, “one boy compared to thousands of little girls who see themselves in you. i know i shouldn’t be upset, you’re literally changing history, but seeing it makes me wish i was someone like you.”

“you’re right, you’re not like me,” you said, moving to sit next to him, “you’re lando norris, the one who got P2 in your home grand prix a few weeks ago, the one who goes out of their way to say hi to literally all the fans and take pictures with them. you’re literally someone’s ray of sunshine.”

he smiled softly, letting you continue, “be like you. don’t be like me, lan.”

his head snapped up at the nickname, “did you just call me ‘lan’?”

a smile spread across his face and you let out a soft laugh, “i guess i did.”

he smiled back, “thank you, though. i needed that. and, i’m sorry for how i’ve been towards you.”

you waved him off, the smile still playing at your lips. you tried to bite it back with your lower lip tucked between your teeth. he swore his heart skipped a beat at the sight. you nodded your head softly, “we’re cool. just pipe down the ego a bit, yeah?”

he let out a chuckle. being this close to him made you realize there was a hint of blue in his green eyes, the short stubble growing back from where he had shaved his facial hair. he was undeniably pretty and you were getting wrapped up in him and distracted. he was doing the same, his eyes scanning over every single one of your facial features as he tried his hardest to memorize them.

you smiled softly, “why’re you looking at me like that?”

he smirked, “you mean the same way you’re looking at me?”

you blushed, turning away from him but his eyes were still locked onto you. you went to stand up, smiling softly at him as it was nearing the beginning of the next race.

“i’ll see you out there.”

he smiled, “see you out there, doll.”

you shook your head, letting out a soft laugh as you let the door close behind you, the nickname no longer making your blood boil but suddenly making your stomach do flips.

lando norris was going to be the death of you.

[strniohoeee]

reader is down bad for matt, like she blushes, giggles, goes mute whenever he's around and he kinda enjoys it and one day he finally asks her to go an a date and it ends super fluffy

She’s Got It Bad

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N was out of her mind in love with Matt, but she was shy. Which left her in awkward silent situations until one day Matt puts his foot down! 🌷

Warnings⚠️: None?? Writing kind of sucks also sorry if there’s grammatical errors I never proof read till two days later after I post lolll😭

Song for imagine: This Is How It Feels- D4vd, Laufey

So this is how it feels

To fall in love with you

To always think of you

To always dreams of you

You know when you’re reading or watching a romance book or movie, and one of those super cheesy slow mo scenes happen? Where an 80s love song is queued and the two love interests stare at each other while their hair oh so dainty blows in the wind? And you’re curling your toes as your heart beats for the next scene to happen? Just thinking “I need more! Give me more!” And then it goes back to reality and they end up walking right past one another….

And it wraps you into this hour and a half or 230 page book/movie about the girl wanting the guy….but the guy not really wanting her or simply seeing her as a sister or painfully shoving her in the friend zone? And you’re itching for more. Tired of this back and forth of who will get one another first?

And if you said yes to any of those questions then you are sure looking at my life right now…stuck painfully stuck in the friend zone. Mainly because I put myself there. Let's face it, I'm deeply afraid of rejection. Why ruin something that is virtually perfect.

I had it bad for Matt and I’m not so sure he felt the same way, but I’d never in a million years ever jump at that. I’d rather rip my ears off and tape them to the concrete and then run them over consistently for an hour… okay a bit graphic and a bit over the top but you get the point. He’s off limits and I’ve got it bad for him…

Most of our interactions consisted of short conversations, me blushing like an idiot and even sometimes going silent..offering a nod here and there. It’s even gotten to the point of having to leave the hangout because I was so nervous around him. I mean what if I said something that he found cringey? What if I embarrassed myself which I tend to do a lot might I add? Or even worse…what if he didn’t find me funny?

All these terrible instances bounced off my brain like a bullet ricocheting off of metal walls. As I sat chewing my lip, suddenly my thoughts were interrupted

“Helloooooo” I heard loudly from the other end of the phone call

Blinking out of my trance I soon realized I had been on the phone.

“I’m sorry Nick I got side tracked” I replied gripping the phone again

“Yeah I can tell you went rogue for like 3 minutes there, did you even hear what I asked you?” He asked laughing

“Uhhh yeah and I think you should go with the yellow shirt” I replied praying I wasn’t so far off from what he was talking about

“That was like 10 minutes ago, I asked are you coming or what?” He said huffing

“I’m sorry? Coming? Where?” I asked again as I furrowed my eyebrows

“This is why I don’t call you, you have the attention span of a fly” he said laughing which caused me to laugh

“I’m sorryyyy I was thinking about something” I replied to him

“Aren’t you always… I was asking if you were coming over tonight for movie night?” He said shuffling around

“Ohhh duhh of course I never miss Saturday nights with you” I said getting up to pack my overnight back

“Even though Matt and Chris are joining us this time?” He asked

This is where I hadn’t been listening previously and I almost choked on my saliva trying to form a proper answer.

“Uh.. *ahem* yes of course they can join us” I replied trying to seem chill

“Wow sooo nonchalant about that” he stated sarcastically

“Oh will you shut up” I replied stuffing my duffle bag

Nick opened his mouth to speak but on the other end it sounded like someone walked in his room

“Matt get the fuck out I’m on the phone” Nick said which made me laugh a bit

“Who are you talking to?” I heard Matt ask his brother

“Your girlfriend now fuck off” he said almost hissing at Matt

“NICK STOP” I squeaked over the phone

“I don’t have a girlfriend you sicko” Matt stated sounding annoyed…. I looked up at my imaginary camera (hmm how do I take that response) I thought.

Shaking that feeling off I returned to the call

“Okayyy bye nickkkk see you in a bit” I replied rushing him off the phone

Hanging up the call I sighed deeply… if I wasn’t already nervous to possibly run into Matt then oh boy was I in for a treat

Usually, Saturday nights were for Nick and I and I rarely ever ran into Matt or Chris. Usually it was Chris and him and I had a cool bond. We’d stop to hug and chat for a bit before Chris left to go out. And if I ever ran into Matt it was him leaving with Chris which prompted me to wave slightly and avoid all hugs. Rambling on about Nick needing me for something upstairs each time and not even giving them the chance to respond.

I usually shut my eyes and shook my head when I turned away from them and even muttered a few unkind words about myself to myself….

But tonight…tonight Matt was joining us which meant I couldn’t be awkward around him or else Nick would for sure point it out.

I had gotten to their house with dinner for all of us which we landed on chilis…. Good thing I was 21 I needed a to go drink…preferably strong!

Sitting in their living room as we all began to eat, Nick scrolled through Max as we sat on the floor with our food on the coffee table.

“We should watch Silver Linings Playbook I heard it was good” I said looking over at the tv as Nick had just passed the movie

“I’m down” Chris said shrugging his shoulders

Nick and I usually watched action movies where we’d see a bunch of sweaty hot men fighting bad guys. And most of those movies we’d just yell out if we’d smash the guys or not. I don’t know that Matt and Chris would want to take part in that so a rom-com was for the win!

Max was playing a few ads before the movie and as I was sipping my margarita in a styrofoam to go cup (how niche) Matt had called my name

Looking over at him I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Do you like rom-coms?” He asked me

I felt my ears getting hot and my face too….good thing I’m drinking and I can just blame it on the alcohol.

“I do, I love them actually” I replied nodding at him

“I love them too” he said smiling at me as he ate a fry

“Nice” I said nodding my head and looking over at the tv…why the fuck were their ads still playing? Squinting I turned back around to face him

“Uhh what’s your favorite?” I asked him clearing my throat

“I’d have to say 10 things I hate about you” he replied wiping his hands

“SHUT UP! Me too” I replied getting really excited and loud (blaming it on the alcohol once again)

“No way” he replied laughing

“No! like I swear! I have all the romance movies I’ve ever seen ranked in my notes app and 10 things I hate about you is number one, look see” I replied rambling as I opened up my app and showed him

His brows raised…an impressed look might I add

“Wow Y/N didn’t know you were such a hopeless romantic” he said winning at me

This made my heart flutter and my voice disappear? Sinking into my skin I nodded at him before turning to watch the tv

Throughout the whole movie I kept catching Matt looking at me but he’d look away quickly. This made my skin crawl in a good way though

The movie finished and I found myself emotional. I mean it wasn’t a sad movie but rather beautiful. Nick and Chris had gone to lay on the couch at some point in the movie.

So to no surprise Matt and I turned to find them fast asleep. Shaking our heads we cleaned up the living room and headed to the kitchen to place everything in the trash.

The hallway light illuminating the kitchen as I washed my hands

“I almost feel like Silver Linings Playbook is my number one rom-com” Matt and I both stated at the same time

Laughing I shut the water off and turned towards him

“I guess we really are similar” I said to him as I crossed my arms over my chest

“I suppose so, but I wouldn’t know you’re always running away from me” he said quietly

“Am not!” I replied standing up straight

“You’re always running away from me as fast as possible, you don’t hate me do you” he stated as he wiped down the table

“No” I replied watching his every move

“Then why do you run away? Do I stink?” He asked laughing

“No! You just happen to catch me when I’m busy” I say lying through my teeth

“Right…I suppose so, I do know how to get you at the right time though” he stated throwing the paper out

“Do you?” I asked cocking an eyebrow

“Yeah…when I take you on a date and have all your attention so we can really get to know each other”he says

“Well we’re friends so I do know you” I reply rolling my eyes

“No…know me on a different level that’s not…friends” he says smiling at me sweetly

“Not friends?” Was all I could mutter

“Just say yes to the date you loser” he replied shaking his head

“Yes..sorry yes I will go on a date with you” I replied shaking my head and giggling

“You’ve ever seen Notting Hill?” He suddenly asks me

“I actually haven’t” I stated

“Want to watch it?” He asked me

“But Chris and Nick are sleeping” I replied pointing over my shoulder

“You miss queues don’t you?” He asked cocking an eyebrow

“They don’t call me a ditz for nothing” I replied jokingly

He looked at me with adoration in his eyes for a moment before opening his mouth

“I mean with me…just me” he replied with soft eyes

“Oh....yeah” I replied breathlessly as I shook my head…am I that fucking stupid? I thought to myself

We shut off the tv and the hallway light. Matt led me to his room as I followed behind. It felt so foreign being in a room with a new undertone to it….more than friends

“You can sit closer I won’t bite” he says as he looks over at me

“Right, sorry” I say sitting closer to Matt against the headboard

The air felt awkward as we watched the movie, but Matt slid his arm over my shoulder and pulled me in

“I’m not a stranger” he replied as he snuggled me closer against him

Smiling against him I melted into his touch as we fell asleep to a romance movie. I guess being shy does work out in the end and I’ve always had it bad for Matt but after today? You’re for sure thinking

She’s got it bad!

The End

I wasn’t sure how to end this…it’s so HARD TO END A STORY WTFFFF. Anywho we’re almost at 2,600 followers🥹🥹. Yall I could cry this means so much to me I remember when I had hit 100 followers and I never thought I’d make it this far. I’m so eternally grateful for you all😩🖤🖤. I know I don’t update three times a day everyday like I used to, but I’m so glad yall are sticking around till this day when I post once to twice a week every two weeks. I don’t deserve you, thank yall so much🥹💕💕💕. Stay tuned for more work baes

-J💅🏽

[mischiefmaker615]

Please Please Please

Inspiration: Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter

Summary: You break the news to the team that you're dating a certain.. god of mischief..

Rating: PG 14

Requested By: @Hav3nLauf3ys0n (wattpad)

“Absolutely not!’’

‘’I don’t remember asking for your blessing.’’ You quip dryly as you and Steve cross your arms simultaneously.

‘’you know what he’s done-‘’ he starts, having leaned himself now on the kitchen counter as if preparing for a long lecture on why but you waved a hand at him.

‘’and he’s gotten better, you cant tell me you haven’t noticed the improvement upon staying here at the tower- be glad they’re just harmless pranks and not plots to try to-‘’

‘’why do you want to date Reindeer Games anyway?” Tony asked, coming into the room with his usual ‘never empty’ glass of booze in his hand. ‘’despite the whole killing and taking over the planet thing, what would necessarily be listed on his Tinder profile?”

“Tinder?” Steve raised a brow and Tony backtracks with a shake of his head.

‘’an app where you could find your local singles- actually that might be a great place for y-‘’

‘’guys! We’re getting off track here’’ you chime in, a hand at your temple as the boys looked over with silence for once. With a heavy sigh, you look at them with as much confidence as you could muster, regardless of the shakiness in your voice as Steve’s expression softened.

‘’he and I have already started dating.. kinda.. but I wanna try to make this work, he wants to see how it goes.. there’s something there and we’re happy when we’re together.. regardless of his first impression here, forgiveness and second chances should be in the picture until said other wise.’’

‘’kind of hard to give a second chance to literally the god of backstabbing.’’ Tony muttered while you shot him a look.

‘’he’s been here for almost a year now since New York, he’s helped us in the field when we’ve brought him along and has been a huge help. He would have compromised the missions somehow if he were still in his old ways but you have to admit, some of those assignments wouldn’t have gotten done without his abilities..’’ you note, your eyes moving to Steve who now stared at the ground in thought while he listened. Their silence was enough to have you keep going as you took another breath.

‘’this is happening, and I know to be careful.. he’s different, and he cares for me.. i figured I’d just make my rounds to let everyone know-‘’

‘’is it basically a heads up that we’ll be seeing a lot of touchy- feely stuff??” Tony gawked quickly and you shook your head with reddened cheeks.

‘’like you don’t do that stuff around here Stark.’’ Steve rolled his eyes, reminding him of how many girls come and go when no one’s watching.

‘’n-no- I just- I’m tired of all your attempts to set me up at your parties, I’m done with the dating game.. Loki and I just have something here that I’ve never felt with anyone else..’’ you explained and heard a sigh from Rogers who didn’t exactly look like he approved but he knew you were going to be stubborn on this so he raised his hands in a surrender position.

‘’just be careful.. that’s all we ask.. Nat and Clint have been assigned today but I think Thors still around somewhere- do not hesitate if he even tries to-‘’

‘’ill be fine Steve, thank you..’’ you say gently, giving a small smile before you exit the kitchen in search of Thor.

Not your best speech, it honestly felt like you were talking to your parents who didn’t approve.. but you were an adult, you’ve dated before and knew all the red flags you needed to dodge. Sure the whole ‘taking over the planet’ was a bit of a red flag.. a big one.. but as he’s stayed here fulfilling his ‘community service’, the two of you have had quite the opportunity to bond over that time.

Its been almost a year and the two of you seem to have had a connection where you craved the attention of the other when you were separated. You both would gossip, flirt and have lengthy talks about your interests and differences. Coming from completely different realms gave you both much to talk about and you even got to teach him a bit of basic things on how to adapt to the tower. The television was your favorite to teach because you stopped him faster at trying to throw it than your laptop. Apparently, many ‘magical moving pictures’ presented the illusion of possession to Loki. Thor wasn’t that much different when he was adapting too.

~

‘’what ails you Y/N?” Thor asked, having ran into you in the halls not long after you went in search of him.

you almost choked on your heart for a moment when you noticed his wet hair and towel in hand first, feeling stupid the next second after when he was indeed dressed and that your mind had thought otherwise for a moment. He’s hot- but he wasn’t for you.

Where the hell was coffee when you needed it..

‘’nothing in particular, just-‘’ you didn’t exactly know how to word it to him compared to literally anyone else. ‘I’m dating your brother’ sounded a little more awkward than telling anyone else that wasn’t family related- and this time you did mentally choke when you realized you had thought out loud.

‘’oh Lady Y/N that is wonderful!! I am so happy for you both! I’ve truly noticed how much happier my brother has been since earning your affections!” Thor beamed as he wrapped you in almost a bone breaking hug, squeezing all the stress out of you as you relaxed and wiped the previous embarrassment from your face when he set you down.

‘’t-thank you.. I just figured I was going to let everyone know by making my rounds-‘’

‘’is it because we will be seeing particular affections around here-‘’

‘’what?? No! why does everyone keep thinking that..’’ you blush and hide your face in your hands as he laughs. Its not that you both weren’t doing anything.. but you weren’t going to make it a goal to exactly show anyone your personal business-

‘’my brother can be very.. sexual hungry, as Stark seems to say.’’ Thor explains casually and you hold back from scrunching your nose as you look up at him. ‘’he always has and I’m sure when you both begin to get even closer, we might see you a bit less and less’’ he hints and your cheeks redden again.

Was he referring that you both would practically never leave the bedroom?- why was he so causal talking about this.. wanting to quickly change the subject from your sexual future and to your more concerning thought, you shifted in place as you looked up at him with hesitation.

‘’.. the team seems to disapprove..’’

Thor nodded, his features sympathetic as he sighs. ‘’I understand their reasonings Y/N,’’

‘’but he’s gotten better-‘’ you add quickly before you mouth goes off. ‘’sure he throws some pranks here any there- changing all the water to vodka, cutting holes in Steve’s costumes- dropping the temperature in the middle of the night- but I swear there’s no world domination in sight anymore. We’ve bonded a lot during this time since he’s been here, he gets me and I get him and I think we have something greater than friendship where he even through around the word courting- whatever that means but I think I love-‘’

Your rambling got cut off as Thor places his hands upon your shoulders, shutting you up as he gives you a gentle smile. ‘’my brother is a much better man because of you and I know you both will be happy Y/N. if there is any need for concern, we are here but I have no worries for you two. You have my blessing.’’ He beams and your body relaxs, giving him the same smile as you begin to turn.

‘’thank you Thor,.. I think i know just who to find next’’ you smile and give a gentle wave as your mind tells you Loki’s probably in his room.

‘’all the best wishes Lady Y/N’’ Thor chuckles and heads off just as you do and enter the elevator.

As soon as you press the button for the room floors and the door begin to slide closed, a hand shoots out and grips one of them with barely an inch of them closing. With barley any effort, the hand pulls the doors apart and there stands the god himself you were trying to find.

Loki.

‘’hello darling, I do believe we have a bit to discuss.’’ He says casual, not so much asking as he smirks yet his eyes drink you in seriously as he takes a step in, making you step back before the doors close behind him.

Although he’s been here quite some time, he always appeared in his armor and leather when he needed to speak about something serious. Granted, although he tried using it as an intimidation prop, you always seemed to get distracted as your eyes began to wonder.

‘’darling-‘’

‘’sir?” you said quickly with a start, holding back a small laugh as you wondering out of all the terms you had on file in your head, you had called him that one. Loki didn’t seem to mind as he raised a brow slightly and took a step closer, a hand gently taking hold of your jaw as he tilted it up and kept you looking at him.

His leaned down ever so slightly, his nose ghosting against yours as your fingers fidgeted nervously now while he spoke. ‘’please tell me as to why I have spotted you with every breathing male under this roof except me? Specifically, the one that’s hard to over look is my idiotic brother who then proceeds to have you in his arms.’’

His voice was dangerous, careful but yet not angry that you could tell because you knew he was waiting for you to give a perfectly good explanation. Shifting in place, you softened your features and let your excitement show with a smile while your hand came up to rest on his wrist.

‘’I was merely telling everyone the news that we were officially together and that-‘’

‘’is it a fair warning on what they might witness us doing?’’

‘’Jesus- even- whatever, anyway what I mean is, it’s a fair heads up that Tony can stop with his shipping whenever he throws a party, Steve can stop worrying about you being around because with us being together, if I trust you, he trusts me and thus, trusts you won’t do anything. Also so that Nat can stop her insistent teasing and innuendos-‘’

Loki cut you off as he presses his lips against yours, firmly and with love at the enjoyment to see how giddy you can get. The hand at your jaw lightens tremendously and moved to run his fingers into your hair at the side of your head, making you tilt your face to the side before he deepens the kiss. His other arm snakes around your waist, pulling you closer against his body before he nips at your bottom lip before pulling away.

He chuckles at your small pout at him stopping, his thumb stroking your cheek as his body relaxes from his unnecessary tension he came in with. ‘’I am pleased that you wish to ease everyone into our relationship, but they’ll see me how they wish, regardless if I am with you or not. Frankly I couldn’t care less, because my only focus is with you. I will treat you nothing less than of a goddess because I know that despite my introduction to this realm, I do not have an ounce in my body or the capability of bringing harm upon you.’’

Your hands grip his shoulders, eyes full of admiration towards the man god before you as your heart flutters in your chest. He shared your smile as you pull him down and press your lips to his again, running a hand through his hair as well that makes him practically growl against your lips, turning his head more into your massaging fingers before you feel him back you up.

Feeling the wall of the elevator against your back now, Loki presses his body against your front while his hands run up and down your sides before a hand joins your side to grip the hand bar, trapping you in the corner. His other hand snakes behind you to grip your ass, the mere feeling of it enough to have his lips press harder onto yours while you hold him close by the straps against his front.

*ding*

By the feeling of the elevator stopping, he slowly pulls away with the dangerous yet familiar mischievous glint in his eyes while he presses his forehead against yours. ‘’..are you in the mood for some mischief darling?’’ he purrs.

Part of you wasn’t sure if it was a sexual innuendo or he wanted you to join in of his little pranks he tried to keep up daily around here. Yet seeing the excitement on his features made you down for either one.. one more so than the other as you laughed and gave a nod.

“I beg you, don’t embarrass me. I already went around trying to hype you up that you’ve changed with your whole mischief thing’’ you lightly tease as he takes hold of your hand while the elevator doors open.

‘’oh darling, I was referring to the other kinds of mischief..’’ he smirks and your eyes suddenly notice his erection.

Please.. please.. please.. 

DM/Comment a song for your own Musical Mischief One Shot :D 

Note: Fan fiction makes Elevator rides longer than they really are LOL

~i imagined Loki teasing Y/N with the "stuff" they do and it led to this video LOL

Tag List: @foxherder  @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fire-in-her-veinz

[froggibus]

Just The Three Of Us - Cassidy x Reader x Genji

Pairing: Genji Shimada x F!reader x Cole Cassidy

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: after finding out you’re a virgin, Cassidy and Genji set out to change that

CW: porn w plot, virgin! reader, threesome, Blackwatch! Genji, Blackwatch! Cassidy, oral (f! receiving), oral (m! receiving), fingering, nipple play, multiple creampies, unprotected sex (make good choices lol), face fucking, overstimulation, cum stuffing, marking (??), slight dubcon??, alcohol use

happy 69 guys!! this was originally gonna be a dom! Widow w predator/prey vibes but i honestly couldn’t finish writing it lmao. i like this one a lot better tho and what could be better than the blackwatch sandwich? hope you guys enjoy <3

“Oh, c’mon,” you take a sip of your drink, the alcohol burning your throat. “You guys really think you have more game than me?”

Genji shakes his head and laughs, leaning across the bar table that the three of you are sitting at. The bar isn’t busy, but that’s to be expected of a Sunday night. Aside from a few older men and some rowdy college kids, you, Cass and Genji are the only ones in there. 

Cassidy stretches his arms across the top of the booth, his hand falling just above your shoulder. “Hey, I got game!”

“You grew up with Reyes in an Overwatch facility—you’re practically a shut in.”

The cowboy rolls his eyes, feigning offence at your comment. He adjusts his arms, fingertips brushing your arms. You shiver under his touch, electricity coursing through you. 

“And me?” Genji asks, dark eyes meeting yours. There’s a glint of mischief behind them that makes your heart beat faster. 

“You…” You narrow your eyes at him as if deep in thought, “I could see you having game back in the day.”

“But not now?”

You take another sip of your drink. “Nope.”

Cassidy laughs, “well you ain’t got much game either, y/n. I can’t remember the last time you brought someone home with you.”

You glare at the cowboy, only turning your gaze away when Genji says: “he has a point.”

“If I wanted to take someone home with me, I would.”

“I’m sensing a but,” Genji says. 

“I don’t think you sense any butts.”

Cassidy howls in laughter, slapping his hands on the table. Genji rolls his eyes at you and takes a sip of his sake. 

“I have my eyes on someone,” you shrug. 

More like someones. The truth is, you haven’t had any time to date, much less have sex. And when you were given the time, there were a few coworkers who you couldn’t stop thinking about. Specifically the ones in front of you. Still, you’d never admit it. If Cassidy found out you had never had sex, you would never hear the end of it. 

Cass leans closer, whiskey on his breath. He wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Oh yeah? And who might that be?”

“None of your business,” you shrug him off. 

A waitress comes by and asks if you want another round of drinks. You order your usual, tapping your fingers on the table to the beat of an old rock song playing over the bar speakers. 

You can’t help but notice the way Cassidy’s eyes fix on the sway of her hips as she walks away. There’s a pang in your chest at the sight. 

The words tumble from your lips before you can stop them. “I bet you couldn’t get a girl in bed tonight if you tried.”

“I’ll have you know, I’ve gotten plenty of women in my bed.”

Genji laughs, “yeah? Have you kept track?”

“Nine.”

You fake gag at the cowboy’s words. Typical men keeping track of their scores. Your eyes meet Genji’s and a burning question forms in your mind. “What about you?”

“When I was younger? Too many,” he admits. 

You try not to let the bitter taste of disappointment seep into your mouth. Of course they’ve both had sex with other people, you’re the weird one for being an adult virgin. 

“Not so snarky now, are we?” Cass teases, “are you counting them in your head right now?”

You’re no longer in a joking mood, standing up and slipping on your jacket. “I’m tired, I’m gonna head back to the hotel. I’ll talk to you guys in the morning, ‘kay?”

You don’t let them speak before grabbing your purse and heading out of the bar door. It’s cold outside, but the alcohol in your veins makes it seem much warmer. There’s a slight drizzle, the cold rain running down your cheeks and nose. 

Luckily, the hotel you’re all staying at is right across the street. It was almost tradition for the three of you to stick around one extra night after a Blackwatch mission, getting drinks and sightseeing before you have to go back to work. It’s kept you sane all these years, but it’s only fueled the feelings you’ve harboured to the other agents. 

You step into your hotel room and immediately drop your purse to the floor and slam your keycard onto the dresser. Your feet ache when you take them out of your shoes, and you’re all too happy to lay in your bed and watch television. 

You browse for something to watch, anything to take your mind off of the aching in your chest and the bitterness on your tongue. You decide on an old movie about fighter pilots, something Reyes probably would have made you watch. 

You change out of your day clothes, pulling your phone out of your pocket and setting it on your night stand. You exchange your tight pants for pyjama ones and your shirt for a baggy Overwatch shirt that got mixed up in your laundry ages ago. 

You settle into bed, watching the movie and ignoring your phone lighting up every few minutes. 

—

Genji sighs when he calls you for the fifth time, slamming his phone down on the table. “Still no answer.”

“I must’ve really struck a nerve,” Cass says bitterly. “I don't even know why.”

“We’re thinking about this all wrong. Y/n got upset when we brought up past partners so…she’s either ashamed of hers or—“

Cassidy finishes his thought with wide eyes, “or she’s never had any.”

Suddenly everything clicks into place. The overcompensating, the snark to your tone as soon as the subject was brought up. You’d never introduced a partner to them, you’ve never even brought someone to the Overwatch holiday party. 

Genji feels stupid for never realising it before. 

But with their realisation of your lack of partners came another one.  The way you subtly glanced at Genji when you said you had your eyes on someone. Was he the reason? 

“I-I need to go talk to her,” Genji is on his feet before he’s finished speaking, pulling his hoodie over his shoulders. 

“Woah, slow down there. Don’t you mean we need to go talk to her?”

“I think,” he takes a deep breath, “I think she was talking about me when she said she has her eyes on someone.”

Cassidy laughs. “That saké of yours must have really gone to your head. She clearly meant me when she said it.”

It’s the ninja’s turn to stare in disbelief. Classic Cassidy, he thinks, to assume every woman in the world loves him. Still, he can’t help but wonder if he’s imagining it all. If the alcohol really has gone to his head and amplified the feelings he harbours for you, turning it into something it’s not. 

“Okay,” Genji keeps his tone even. “We’ll both go.”

“Okay.”

Despite their words agreeing, their views don’t, and everyone in the bar can feel the tension between them. Even while they walk across the street, frustration radiates around them. 

Cassidy is the one who knocks on your door, gently shoving Genji out of the way so that he’s centred in the doorframe. Genji sighs at his colleague’s antics, nudging him ever so slightly so that he’s standing by his side. 

You open the door in your pyjamas, raising an eyebrow at the pair. “Can I help you?”

“Y/n—,” Genji’s voice is gentle. 

“We know you’re a virgin.”

Genji steps on the cowboys steel toes, punishing him for his brazenness. Your eyes widen at his words and you find yourself taking a step back from them. 

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, y/n,” Genji steps into your hotel room, shoving past Cassidy. 

“I-I’m not ashamed,” your face is burning. 

Cassidy steps in next to Genji, letting the door close behind him. “Then why’s your face so red, hm?”

“It’s just—really hot here and I’m tired and you guys should go!”

Genji places a hand on your waist. “Y/n, it’s just us, you don’t have to be afraid.”

“That’s exactly why I’m afraid.”

They speak at the same time, “because you like me?”

You’re practically on fire now. Your head is spinning so fast you can’t tell what way is up, and you’re sure your knees will buckle at any moment. You blink a few times, shrinking under their gazes. Your heart speeds up and suddenly you’re pitching forwards. 

“Woah, cowgirl!” 

Genji, quick as always, moves his arm around your waist and catches you before you can even fall. He snakes his other arm under your legs and carries you to the bed, sitting you at the edge. 

You put your head in your hands. “I never wanted you guys to find out.”

“It’s okay to feel this way,” Genji pulls a hand from your face. 

Cassidy copies the cyborg but his touch is far less gentle. “We’re not gonna judge you.”

“It’s not!” You take a deep breath, almost choking on your words, “it’s not right for me to want both of you.”

Silence falls over the room. You sit there and wallow in your shame, too scared to breathe too deeply or move your hands out of theirs. You just want them to forget you’re there for a while. 

Genji glances at Cassidy over your head. The cowboy cocks an eyebrow and smirks slightly, and the cyborg blushes at what he knows he’s thinking. 

Cassidy’s metal hand moves from your hand to your jaw, tilting your head so that you’re forced to look at him. 

“What are you—,”

You’re cut off when his warm lips smash against yours. His touch immediately rekindles the fire inside of you, butterflies erupting in your stomach. He pulls away with a smirk, leaving you breathless. 

You don’t have time to properly process the kiss before Genji’s hand is on the back of your neck, turning your head to him and guiding your face towards his. He leans in, pressing his soft lips to yours. You melt into his touch, burning up beneath his fingers. 

You’re left wide eyed and gasping for air when he pulls away. “I don’t…I don’t understand…”

“Sh,” Cassidy places a hand on your thigh, rubbing up and down, “let us take care of you, okay?”

“But—,”

Genji shuts you up by pressing his lips to yours again, slipping his tongue into yours this time. You don’t fight back, desperate to have him. You can taste the alcohol on his breath but it only makes you want more. His hand reaches up to tangle in your hair, pushing you closer to him. 

Cassidy moves his hand farther up your thigh, brushing his knuckles against your throbbing core. You clench your legs around his hand, desperate for any sort of friction. 

“So needy,” he teases, moving his hand beneath the hem of your shirt. “Be patient, darling.”

You whine against Genji’s mouth, making the cyborg pull away. He gives you a lopsided grin, his cheeks just as pink as yours surely are. 

Cassidy tugs your shirt over your head, grinning when he sees you’re not in a bra. You expect him to make a comment, but he’s too busy staring at your bare chest. You glance at Genji only to realize he’s doing the same. Their eyes on you makes you self conscious and you find yourself moving to cover up. 

Cassidy catches your wrists in his hands. “Not so fast,” he tuts, and moves in to kiss you. 

You relax against him but only for a second before you feel Genji’s lips on your neck. His touch is gentle but with just enough pressure to make you whine and sent electricity down to your core. His teeth graze your collarbone and you moan into Cassidy’s mouth. 

The cyborg smiles against your skin, dead set on making you moan again. He kisses down your chest, kissing around your nipple before finally attaching his lips to it. 

You squirm, arching your back and moaning against Cassidy’s mouth. “G-genji,” a trail of saliva leaks from the side of your mouth as Cass pulls away. 

“So pretty,” he mumbles into your tit, teeth grazing your nipple as he speaks. 

You whimper, grinding your hips against the bed. Cassidy knows just what you need, and slips his knee between your legs before moving his lips to your other tit. 

You cry out at his added touch, grinding your wet pussy against Cassidy’s thigh. 

“Fuck,” he groans. “She’s so wet I can feel it through my jeans.”

Genji looks up at you, letting your nipple fall from his mouth. “You like this, baby?”

You can only nod, both boys chuckling at your dishevelled state. They can’t help but admire how cute you look with your rosy cheeks and messy hair and the drool around your mouth. 

Genji moves up to kiss you again while Cass slips down your pants. He’s pleased when he sees how soaked your panties are and quickly tugs them off of your legs. Your bare, glistening pussy greets him and he moans at the sight. 

So tight, it’s not hard to remember that no one’s ever touched you before. He rubs one of his fingers up your slit, poking your clit ever so slightly. You immediately react to his touch, whining and thrusting your hips forwards. More juices gush from you. 

“God, she’s so wet Gen,” he moans. “You gotta take a look at this.”

The ninja pulls back, staring at your perfect little pussy with his jaw dropped. His jeans suddenly feel too tight and all he wants is to bury his length inside of you.

Cassidy rubs his thumb across your clit. “Does that feel good, darling?”

You bite your lip and throw your head back, nodding furiously. Genji lays next to you, wrapping an arm around your thigh to pull it apart from your other one and open them up for the cowboy. His lips connect with your neck once more. 

Cassidy dips a finger into your dripping pussy, sinking right in. He groans at how well you take him, and slowly moves it in and out of you. He moves his other hand to play with your clit, pinching and twisting it in tune with your whines. 

He slips another finger in, stretching you out around him. He pushes them all the way up to the hilt, curling them inside of you. You whine, arching your back and trying to close your legs around his hand to get more, but Genji’s grip is too tight. 

“Patience,” he mumbles into your neck. 

You can feel his hard cock rubbing against your hip, the cyborg desperate for more friction. You rub your hand up his thigh and over the bulge, shuddering at how hard it feels. 

Genji shivers under your touch, opening his mouth to ask what you’re doing and closing it as soon as you unzip his pants. He helps you tug them down until they pool around his ankles. 

Your mouth practically waters at the outline of his cock through his boxers and you reach up to trace your fingers across it. Genji whines, propping himself up on his knees to give you better access. 

You slip your hand into his waistband and grip his length, slowly dragging your hand up and down his dick. He thrusts against your hand, desperate for more. You tug his boxers all of the way down, letting his cock spring free. It looks a lot bigger than it did in his pants, and the sight makes you clench your thighs. 

You spit into your hand and rub your saliva up his shaft, getting him nice and wet so you can rub your hand up and down it. Genji is mesmerised by you jerking him off, and he wants more. 

You wet your lips, getting ready to take him into your mouth. Before you can, you feel Cass start to suck on your clit while he adds an extra finger. You moan loudly, Genji taking this as an opportunity to push his cock into your mouth. 

His salty taste overwhelms you and you find yourself pushing your head down to take more. He wraps his fingers in your hair and holds it back, using it to guide you up and down. 

Cass continues his assault on your pussy, lapping the juices that gush from your hole with every thrust of his fingers. Your poor, swollen clit being sucked and licked at with no end in sight. 

You moan around Genji’s length, forcing yourself to take more of him. The cyborg can’t help but thrust into your mouth, forcing even more of his cock into your throat. You gag around it and the sounds make him moan even more. 

There’s a knot building in your stomach and you know you won’t last much longer. You grind your pussy against Cassidy’s face, desperate for more. The cowboy gladly gives it to you—fucking his fingers into you even faster than before. 

Your whines grow more and more desperate, drool leaking out at the space between Genji’s cock and your mouth. The cyborg watches as it drips down your chin and onto the peaks of your tits and wishes it was his cum coating you instead. 

Cassidy curls his fingers inside of you and you come undone. Your body tenses, your eyes roll back. Genji let’s his cock fall from your mouth, watching you with loving eyes as you cum on Cassidy’s face. 

Cassidy takes every drop of cum that you give him, lapping up your juices as they coat his chin and lips. He pulls back with a smirk, moving in to kiss you. You whine at the taste of yourself on his lips. 

“Now that you’re nice and stretched out,” he says, “why don’t you let Genji fuck that sweet pussy?”

You nod vigorously, your pussy already drenched at the thought. Genji shifts so he’s kneeling between your thighs, the head of his cock rubbing against your clit. His length is already glistening with your spit, but he collects your juices on his cock just in case. 

Genji locks eyes with you. “Are you sure?”

“Y-yeah.”

You don’t have to tell him twice. He sinks the head of his cock inside of you, and the stretch makes you whine. It’s slightly painful but the fullness it brings is the best thing you’ve ever felt. 

You tug Cassidy in for another kiss, using his lips to distract yourself from the sting of Genji’s cock bottoming out inside of you. He stays still once he’s all the way inside of you, letting you adjust to his size. 

You pull away from Cass to whimper a quick, “move, please.”

Genji can do nothing but oblige. He slowly pulls out before pushing back into you slowly, trying to keep his pace gentle and even while you get used to it. You can feel the throbbing of his cock inside of you and it only makes you whine and thrust your hips against him. 

You’re so distracted with Genji that you don’t even notice that Cass has discarded his pants and has his hard cock in your face.

 He rubs his cock head across your lips, “how’s about putting that pretty little mouth of yours to good use?”

His cock is thicker than Genji’s, and you’re worried that you won’t be able to take it all. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, letting him slowly push his cock into your mouth. He has more of a taste than Genji and you find yourself savouring it. 

Genji picks up the pace as if to remind you that he’s still there, smashing his hips against yours with every thrust. You suck harder on Cassidy’s cock, your moans catching in your throat and vibrating against his length. You can tell he’s holding back, but you don’t know why. 

Genji flicks his thumb across your clit, and your orgasm washes over you. Your pussy clenches around his cock and he’s sent over the edge with you, your tight pussy milking his cock for all its worth. You can’t help but whine at the feeling of his hot cum inside of you, filling you up all the way. 

He pulls out at the same time as Cassidy, forcing a gasp from your lips. Cum pools between your legs, dripping down your thighs and Genji’s cock. 

��How was that?” Genji asks. 

“S-so good.”

You can barely speak, the overstimulation washing over you in waves and practically drowning you. Genji laughs at the fucked out expression on your face, laying down next to you and pulling you so your back is on his chest. 

You don’t realize what’s happening until Cassidy is between your legs. “Think you can do one more?” 

You nod, the idea of being fucked full of both of their cum too good to pass up. 

Genji kisses your cheek, “that’s our girl.”

Cassidy pushes inside of you slowly, your saliva and Genji’s cum acting as a lubricant. The stretch stings slightly, but it goes away quickly. Cassidy bottoms out inside of you quickly, making you cry out when the tip of his cock brushes against your cervix. 

“C-Cass!”

He pulls out and slams back inside of you, making you squeal at the friction. Genji plants kisses up your neck and shoulders to calm you down, his fingers working at your nipples. 

Cassidy leans against you, pushing your thighs up against your tummy in a mating press. He’s desperate, fucking into you so fast and so hard you can barely keep track. Your head is dizzy from your orgasms and everything is so hot and so sensitive. 

With the way the cowboy is fucking you like you’re his last and the way Genji is toying with your nipples, you know you won’t last much longer. Based on the way Cassidy’s cock is twitching instead of you, you know he won’t either. 

Genji pinches your nipples and Cassidy slams his hips against yours again and you come undone. Tears leak from your eyes as your pussy gushes out around his cock, your whole body spasming. Genji holds you tightly through your orgasm, rubbing your shoulders and whispering reassurance in your ear. 

Cassidy cums right after you do, thrusting into you one last time to get his cock as deep as possible. Hot cum floods inside of you, mixing with Genji’s and filling you up completely. He continues fucking into you through your orgasm, waiting to pull out until all of his cum has been fucked into you. 

When he pulls out, their cum gushes out of you, dripping down your thighs. He gathers it on his finger and pushing it back inside of you, laughing at the way you squirm from his touch. 

He pulls his finger out and slips it into your mouth, letting you suck off the mixture of your cum, his cum and Genji’s cum. The taste barely registers, your senses dull in your fucked out state. 

Cassidy plants a kiss to your forehead, smoothing your sweaty hair back. “Such a good girl.”

“Our good girl,” Genji adds. 

[klarolinexluv]

It really bothers me when people say stuff like “when people hate Peter but love Barty, Evan and Regulus.”

Like, I love Peter. Hogwarts era Peter. I have nothing against him. I don’t like the person Peter grows into.

I love Barty and Evan and Regulus. I also don’t like that Barty and Evan grow into Death Eaters.

BUT REGULUS?! I will NEVER hate that man. He made some terrible decisions but at the end of the day he tried to do good, he tried to help defeat Voldemort. I don’t care what anyone says, Regulus was given a bad lot in life and at the end of it, tried to be good.

Peter, Barty and Evan (WHO WE KNOW LITERALLY NOTHING ABOUT) these three characters have no character development (towards being good or better people.)

In my opinion, Regulus and Peter have opposite story’s. More so than people might think.

We have no idea how Peter grow up but as a fandom we have mostly agreed that his home life is kind and good (of course, some people believe his mum has expectations for him that he can’t quite live up to but that’s up to you.) He fell in with James, Sirius and Remus. He became a Gryffindor.

We have some idea how Regulus grew up. His home life was cruel and strict, oppressive. His mother had very set ideals and expected her children to act accordingly. From canon, or at least from Sirius’ POV, Regulus believed it all, he was as devoted as any death eater.

Peter, during Hogwarts, showed no signs of being or becoming a death eater. In actuality, we have no idea why he became one.

With Regulus, it’s the opposite. He showed every sign of believing in pureblood supremacy and later, a death eater.

It’s after Hogwarts where these things switch. Peter becomes an Order member and a death eater. He is a spy. He feeds Voldemort information and it gets his friends killed. We have no idea how he truely felt about this, only what Harry saw and thought.

After Hogwarts, (or even during, in 1979) Regulus defects. From what we know, it can be inferred that Sirius knew that Regulus was going to or was trying to leave the death eaters. We all know that he did, or at least he tried, he went against Voldemort in an attempt to make him mortal.

These characters, to me are opposites. Peter grew up surrounded by good and kindness and still he became a death eater and got his friends killed. Regulus grew up surrounded by cruelty and racism and all these bad things that came with being born into an abusive supremists household, and he chose to try and do the right thing in the end.

What we know is that both these characters changed, one for the better, one for worse. Really, we don’t know much about them and their experiences, what lead them to these positions.

Was Peter ever really good or was he just in the wrong place at the wrong time? Was he afraid for his life and that’s why he did what he did, out of survival?

Did Regulus ever truely believe in the pureblood bullshit his parents and peers spewed? Was he a victim of circumstance? (Was Peter?) Why did Regulus choose to betray Voldemort? Was he always going to?

I fear I’ve gotten a little off track but that’s just my thoughts on the Peter and Regulus front.

With Barty. We know a bit about him. He was a good student. Smart. He was on his way to be exactly like his father. We know that he must have snapped and he joined the death eaters. We know he went on to be one of the worst. (This is just my knowledge of him, if I’m wrong please tell me) anyway- I don’t like the person Barty became but we don’t know anything about him at school so yes, I love Barty, I love him as a character. I don’t like the person he becomes but I still love his character.

Evan is different. We know next to nothing about him. We know he became a death eater, dueled Moody and then died. That’s literally all we know about him. So yes, I love Evan as a character, I don’t like that he became a death eater but I love what fanon has done to develop him.

Regulus. I’ve said what I’ve said about him. Nothing could ever change my opinion about him. He serves cunt.

Peter. We probably know the most about him but at the same time we don’t. He was a marauder, an order member (then ex order member) and a death eater. We don’t know his motivations, or reasons.

In fact we don’t know any of these four characters motivations or reasonings. Not really. We know what Harry thinks and what Sirius thinks, what Remus thinks. We know what Hermione and Ron think, what every other character that was close to Harry, what they think but we have no idea how Barty thinks, how Peter thinks, how Evan thinks or how Regulus thinks.

Which brings me to my final point, we know nothing about these characters or at least we know so LITTLE about them. Most of the fics I read are set at Hogwarts before all these characters have to make that life changing decision. And all the fics I read do these characters the justice I think they deserve.

So yes. I love Peter and Barty and Evan and Regulus. Yes I also hate them sometimes. These things don’t have to be mutually exclusive. All of these characters are complex and it’s okay to love them just as it’s okay to hate them.

THEY ARE FICTIONAL.

Thank you.

[dynasty889]

I’m having thoughts of an Epic Cycle/Iliad/EPIC: The Musical high school au. I don’t have a lot, but here’s my general idea:

The school is located in a really remote era. Like there’s nothing to do in town. There’s a mall half-falling apart. That’s like the only place of entertainment. Everyone in the town knows each other to an uncomfortable extent.

For characters, these are the ones I’ve thought of so far:

Odysseus: Odysseus in this au would be the new boy. Methinks he lived by the water (idk like California or something lol) and his hobbies were surfing, fishing, and working out. But then he moved away and he can’t do any of his hobbies anymore lol. He probably works at a bowling alley (it’s in the mall). I feel like a lot of people from school would come there after school and he just hates it so much when his friends see him in his silly little uniform. He likes to sass his teachers.

Penelope: I have a few alternate ideas (including emo/mean girl Penelope but that’s for an au for this au). The one I’m gonna go with is like shy bookworm vibes. She’s got all As (of course she does). But then she’s also a reluctant member of Helen’s rat pack group of friends. She tried to get away but Helen and Clytemnestra drag her out past her bedtime haha. I feel like equally hates hanging out with Helen as much as being alone, because her shyness kind of makes her a target to some teasing? She’s in the school’s orchestra (surprise surprise she plays the viola).

Helen: something something Heathers something. Alexa, play Candy Store from Heathers: The Musical. Do I make her 100% vain? Or do I make her vain for the sake of hiding her pain and struggles? Yeah, probably the latter. Flawlessly perfect…?

Clytemnestra: She’s something like Helen’s right hand woman. If Helen ain’t there, then Clytemnestra is in charge of their friend group. I think she’s also on one of the school’s athletic teams. I don’t know what, maybe track or tennis.

Achilles: The not so secretly gay footballer player I guess. I don’t know. Makes out with Patroclus in the locker room after practice.

Patroclus: He’s all of us. He’s just trying to survive high school. Average grades, As and Bs but maybe a C in there too. Supportive boyfriend, goes to all of Achilles’ games and sometimes (a lot of the time) practice (do they let people watch practice? I actually don’t know I’m not involved enough).

Nestor: The history teacher. He’s kind of chill but man does he talk too much. Odysseus has him, unfortunately. First period.

Agamemnon: On the football team too. Somehow he hasn’t gotten kicked off despite the fact that he’s probably definitely broken all rules of the game at least ten times and his grades are sinking. Achilles and Agamemnon hate each other.

Menelaus: Also on the football team. He’s a little more respectable than Agamemnon. Pining after Helen and Agamemnon tries to help him, but it always fails.

Diomedes: Not too sure about him because I don’t have a lot of headcanons for him in general. He’s probably a delinquent. I could see him in the school’s band on percussion and just loves doing exactly what not to do with the instruments. He and Odysseus like to get up to some shit on a regular basis.

[thetomorrowshow]

Whumptober 7 - only for emergencies

title: in which gem is the only one with normal eyes

fandom: hermitcraft smp

cw: blood and injuries, mild gore, mild cannibalism (idk if it really counts as cannibalism tho...)

~

“Oh, we’ll be out of here pretty quick!” Scar declared confidently. “Xisuma won’t rest until he finds us.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Pearl questioned. Gem elbowed her.

Scar just waved her off. “If he doesn’t, then I have a back-up plan. But only for emergencies, I’m sure it’ll never come to that!”

They were stuck in here, in this concrete room, a sink and a bucket in the corner. The door was heavy and locked; the only comfort they had were three ragged blankets, which they had each dragged to separate spots in the room, marking their claim for somewhere to rest.

Gem had never been kidnapped before. Not officially, by someone who wasn’t a Hermit. But there was a first time for everything!

“I’m sorry, guys,” Pearl said after a long moment, the little feelers on her head twitching. “I shouldn’t have gone out in public with y’all.”

“Don’t say that,” Gem reprimanded, smacking Pearl on the arm.

“It wouldn’t have been the same without you!” insisted Scar.

“I just . . . if I hadn’t, then maybe—”

“Then we wouldn’t have gotten to go on this fun field trip!”

Scar grinned. “I love fun field trips. Don’t you, Pearl?”

Pearl rolled her eyes, but at least she was smiling. “Whatever.”

“My mom packed me cookies for this field trip,” Scar stage-whispered to Gem. “But I’m willing to trade.”

“My mom just gave me money to buy food.”

“Oh, that’s way better! Now my sandwich looks boring.”

“What kind of sandwich?”

“Classic peanut butter. But I’ve also—”

“I didn’t think I was kidnapped with children,” Pearl said drily. “Do you two mind?”

Scar grimaced. “I think we made the bus driver mad.”

“We? That was all—”

“I wish the torture would start, already.”

-

They came for Pearl a couple of hours later, by Gem’s watch.

They’d been out on the Hub for a game of lazer tag, of all things. It was supposed to be Gem, Pearl, and Impulse, but Impulse had dropped out last second, and Scar had happened to have a coupon to the lazer tag place, so the three of them went instead.

There was another group in the arena with them, college-age kids, and they all managed to have a good time together. They had seemed like nice kids.

Gem would never stop berating herself for not paying much attention to the way one of them kept staring at Pearl’s antennae. People noticed her—it wasn’t normal at all for an alien to be found on a public world. They usually kept to themselves, as far as Gem knew.

She’d never met one other than Pearl, at any rate, nor had she known anyone who had. In fact, many people didn’t believe they even existed. The Hermitcraft server was split on the issue, with certain people like Ren and Keralis sure of their existence, and others like Cleo and Mumbo fairly dubious.

Pearl had shown up near the beginning of Season 8, and that had put a definitive end to that casual debate.

Gem had honestly forgotten how uncommon aliens were. When you lived with one like Pearl for as long as she had, it became normal. When Pearl had asked about lazer tag, she hadn’t hesitated to find a place where they could go play. She hadn’t even thought about Pearl’s less common features.

“We should’ve seen this coming,” Gem said now, fiddling with the band of her watch. She’d noticed the way that kid was looking at Pearl, but she hadn’t thought anything of it. How could she have ignored it?

Scar shrugged. “Yeah. I forgot that aliens aren’t a thing.”

“Me too.”

“Are you keeping track of how long she’s gone?”

Gem nodded. “Forty minutes, now. How long do you think until Doc and Xisuma find us?”

“Well, they took us to another world,” Scar said contemplatively. “Last time someone got kidnapped, it was . . . Grian, I think? And that only lasted a couple of days, Xisuma tracked him down fast.”

“Do people get kidnapped a lot on Hermitcraft?”

“Usually one per season, at least! Didn’t you notice when I got kidnapped last season?”

“You—what?”

Scar waved nonchalantly. “Yes, yes, I missed a Boatem company meeting for it! I was gone for . . . a week? Maybe less.”

Now that he mentioned it, she did vaguely remember hearing that Scar spent an extended period of time off-world. She didn’t know that he’d been kidnapped, though.

“So it took Xisuma a week to find you?” she said, skipping over Scar’s kidnapping for now.

“Oh, no. Xisuma didn’t find me, I broke out. I mostly stuck around so long because I needed a vacation.”

“So . . . he might not find us within the week?”

“He will! He usually figures it out, at least.”

Gem groaned in frustration, buried her face in her knees. “I hope Pearl doesn't mind waiting.”

She was really trying not to think about Pearl, about what they might have been doing to her. Pearl was strong, that was for sure, but Gem had never seen her in a situation like this. Were they experimenting on her? Observing her?

There was surely some black market out there for aliens. Would it come to that? Were they just showing Pearl to potential buyers?

Were they hurting her?

She couldn’t let herself think about it. Hopefully, Pearl would be returned to them. It was silly to think she wouldn’t be—they were presumably using Gem and Scar as leverage to get Pearl to do what they wanted. As long as the two of them were still here and fine, Pearl was likely also still here somewhere, and not auctioned off to some highest bidder.

That was what was important. Pearl was here, and they were here, and Xisuma was going to get them out of there.

-

If Gem hadn’t been told, she probably wouldn’t have guessed that Pearl was an alien.

There were plenty of hybrids on Hermitcraft—avian, blaze, dog—, so Gem would have willingly believed that Pearl was some kind of bug hybrid. It wasn’t too far-fetched. She had antennae, and spines on her arms, she could crawl up walls.

The only thing that gave her pause was her eyes.

Pearl’s eyes reflected a galaxy. They spun with stars and planets and darkness, and Gem once spent all day comparing an image of their galaxy to the one in Pearl’s eyes and had found nothing similar in them. She wondered sometimes if the galaxy changed, if there was any way to map what her eyes displayed.

She wondered what Pearl saw.

Her eyes were the most beautiful things Gem had ever seen, and now, as she gently brushed Pearl’s hair back from her forehead, she wished she would open those eyes.

“Why are they keeping us around?” Scar murmured, tucking his blanket around Pearl. They only had the one thin blanket each, but Scar just buttoned up his shirt to protect against the cold.

“I don’t know, but I’m not complaining.”

Pearl groaned, shifted just slightly in Gem’s arms. “It’s because of me,” she said, not opening her eyes.

“Hm?”

“I get energy. From people. They want me to be . . . healthy.”

“Oh,” Scar said. “You’re an extrovert?”

Pearl snorted, finally opened her eyes. Yep, those stars still spun. “I draw energy from people,” she clarified. “It’s how I stay alive, being near others. They keep you here so that I can eat your delicious energy.”

“Yum,” Gem said.

“Yum yum,” Pearl confirmed. Her antennae wiggled. “I absorb it through my antennae.”

Pearl already looked a little healthier than she had when they first threw her back in the cell, and sure enough, Gem was feeling a bit sleepy.

She hadn’t looked too roughed-up, thankfully. A couple of bandages on her inner elbows and hands, a woozy look on her face. Just some tests run, probably. She’d been gone for about six hours.

But this was only the first day. What would happen tomorrow?

“Maybe we should break ourselves out,” Gem suggested. “It can’t be that hard, right? How many guards were there, Pearl?”

Pearl shrugged, her eyes slipping closed again.

Scar tugged on his sleeves. “We should wait,” he said. “I mean, Xisuma’s going to find us any day!”

Gem bit her tongue. She didn’t like to sit around and wait. She liked to get to the action, do things herself, make a push when others weren’t expecting it.

But Scar felt like they should wait, and they weren’t hurting Pearl too badly. It wouldn’t be the end of the world to wait.

Gem clenched her fist and just pulled Pearl closer.

-

“You know the drill, up against the wall.”

Every day, three people entered the room.

Scar and Gem would scoot to the back of the cell, sitting on the floor with their hands above their heads, pressed to the wall. One man would stand close to them, a stun gun trained on them. The other two would haul Pearl up by her arms and leave, the third backing up behind them. The third man always locked the door.

Gem could easily take out three men. No problem.

Every day, three people entered the room. Four went out.

This was the seventh day, and she was getting really sick of waiting.

“I’m gonna go for it tomorrow,” she told Scar. Scar shook his head rapidly, hiding a yawn.

“No—no, we should wait,” he insisted. “It’s only been a week, Xisuma’s—”

“You said to wait a week,” Gem countered. “I waited a week. Nobody’s found us.”

“We don’t have any weapons!”

“All of the guards have swords and stun guns. I’m GeminiSlay, I can take one down with my bare hands, then take his weapon!”

“I—look, I have a plan if it gets bad,” Scar said, wringing his hands. “But it isn’t bad, yet, and we just have to wait a little longer.”

Gem sighed. Sure, it wasn’t too bad so far, but Pearl was still suffering.

She now had dark bruises trailing up the insides of her arms, the evidence of many blood draws or IVs. Clinical stitched-up lines marked her arms and bare feet, and Gem was sure that she’d been cut open and stitched back up in more places than that, but she held her clothes closed (her shirt had been sliced down the back for easy removal) and shook her head whenever Gem asked if she wanted help with wounds.

She didn’t really talk much, not anymore. She just rested against their shoulders and slept. Gem and Scar usually fell asleep quickly, her drain on their energy pulling them down as well.

Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it could be, but it was still bad. They had spent days here, leaning on one another, their energy dwindling more and more as Pearl required more from them. They only got fed once a day, and the sink in the corner of the room provided water but there was nothing to drink with, and cupping their hands barely got anything.

Plus, Gem had a base to be building. She didn’t have weeks to spend locked up in here.

“I’m going to attack,” Gem decided. Scar grimaced, buried his face into his knees. “Tomorrow, when they come to get Pearl. If you want to help, you can.”

Scar didn’t respond.

So Gem just settled in with her singular blanket and started planning.

-

It went perfectly.

Until it didn’t.

Gem launched herself at the first guard through the door, wresting his stun gun from his grip. She turned it on him, holding down the trigger until he was writhing on the ground. Then she hit the following guard in the face with the hilt of the gun—and she aimed for the third one—

But it wasn’t right.

There wasn’t just a third guard.

A fourth guard followed in, then a fifth.

Coming straight for her.

Before Gem knew what was happening, she was down, electricity burning through her spasming body. She gasped—her vision went red, flashing, the only sound that echoed through her ears was a distant screaming—

Then it ended, and Gem took in a ragged breath, the world returning under layers of static.

“No more standing, for this one,” a too-loud voice growled. Gem wrenched open her eyes, looked up—

A blurry guard was holding a club over her leg—

He swung, landed with a deafening crack, and Gem screamed and screamed and screamed.

She couldn’t breathe past the pain for far too long. Long enough that black spots floated in front of her eyes, long enough that her chest strained with the lack of oxygen. She gritted her teeth hard enough that one of them gave under the strain, but after several swelling moments, she managed to draw in a breath.

“Okay, can you hear me? Gem, Gem, how many fingers am I holding up?”

She blinked several times, but couldn’t quite keep her eyes open. It hurt so much, sickening pulses spreading out from her left leg, and then it hurt even worse and fire flashed through her brain—

“It’s me, it’s okay, I’m just—I think it’s broken, and we should probably set it but I don’t know how to do that—can you look at me, Gem?”

“Hurts,” she managed, tears squeezing out of her closed eyes.

“I know, I know . . . oh, Gem, oh, this is bad—this is so bad—”

Gem swallowed, then finally forced her eyes open.

Scar was there, leaning over her, hands fluttering as he tried to decide what to do first. Eventually, he just kneeled beside her head, pulling her into his lap. Gem couldn’t restrain a small noise in the back of her throat as even that movement shifted her leg a tiny bit, but she leaned into Scar, desperate for any comfort that might help ease the pain. He wiped her forehead with his sleeve, brushing back strands of hair.

“Oh, geez. I’m sorry, Gem. This is pretty bad, huh? I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

“I’m worrying,” she choked out. Scar chuckled nervously.

“Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

-

Gem slept most of that day, but by the evening, she was more-or-less conscious and able to think through the pain. Her leg was definitely broken, but they didn’t dare set it, not without a doctor present.

She and Scar didn’t talk. Scar sat in the back corner and picked at his nails, glancing around anxiously every once in a while. Gem rested on the ground, trying not to so much as twitch her leg.

When Pearl was thrown back in, though, they were silent for a different reason.

One of her antennae was missing.

It was cut off, messy stitches closing the wound, and Gem could do nothing but gape as Pearl lay in a slumped heap on the floor, her singular antenna barely twitching.

“Oh, Pearl,” Scar said at long last, breaking the silence and diving to Pearl’s side. “Oh, Pearl. I’m so sorry.”

Pearl’s shoulders trembled in a move so foreign that Gem had never seen it before, couldn’t reconcile it with her Pearl—

She was crying. Gem saw it, briefly, as Scar lifted her into his lap—Pearl’s eyes leaked sparkling tears, each one like a miniature star rolling down her cheek.

Then Pearl’s face was hidden in Scar’s chest, and Gem almost believed that she had imagined it. Pearl didn’t cry—all the time that they’ve been here, she’d smiled and laughed almost like it was any other day (albeit more tired and with a few more winces).

If Pearl was crying, that meant things were really bad.

“They—” Pearl choked out, voice muffled by Scar’s shirt.

“Sh, sh,” he hushed. “We’ve got you.”

“They—they’re mapping my eyes,” she cried. “They can’t—they’ll find—they’ll find my home!”

Gem had never asked Pearl where she came from, how she found herself on Hermitcraft, and she never shared that information voluntarily.

Maybe it was to protect her past.

Maybe it was to protect her family.

“Scar,” Gem whispered. When he looked up, she tried to convey to him that this was serious, far too serious to wait any longer. She nodded her head toward Pearl, then toward her own leg.

Scar’s face fell. He bit his lip, glanced between Pearl and Gem.

After a moment, he nodded to himself, coming to some sort of decision.

“I’ll get us out of here,” Scar murmured, gently stroking Pearl’s hair. “I’ve got it, don’t you worry about a thing.”

-

When the guards came in the next morning, Scar didn’t move from his spot against the left wall of the room, swathed in the darkest shadows that the cell had.

“Against the back wall,” the one with the stun gun commanded, aiming it at him.

Scar smiled, just visible in the darkness. It was a smile that would be considered friendly, jovial, if the person didn’t know Scar.

Gem knew Scar. She recognized that smile from a million miles away. It was the smile he wore when he was about to close a shady deal, when someone played right into his hands, when he was in games of death.

It was hungry.

“Move!”

“No, thank you,” said Scar cordially. “I think you’ll move, actually. Right back out of here, if you want to live.”

Gem blinked, surprised at his level threats. She hugged Pearl a bit tighter, her friend limp in her arms.

The guard snorted. “Yeah, right. You have until the count of three to get against that wall.”

Scar sighed. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said regretfully.

“One.”

“Y’know, it’s always count of three. Why not count of five? Or six?”

“Two.”

“Just wondering! Gem, you might want to close your eyes.”

“Three.”

The guard strode toward Scar, gun out, finger on the trigger.

Gem did not close her eyes. Pearl didn’t look, face still buried in Gem’s shoulder, but Gem watched. She wasn’t afraid of a little bloodshed, and she had no clue what Scar was planning.

Did he really think that he could take the guards on his own, when Gem had failed so definitively just the day before? What did he have that she didn’t?

Suddenly, Scar’s eyes shone from the shadows.

And they shone blue.

Scar leapt at the guard, fangs—since when did he have fangs?—bared in a snarl, and Gem barely had time to blink before Scar’s teeth were ripping into the guard’s throat, tearing it out entirely with frankly impressive jaw strength.

The other two men shouted—one guard got out his own stun gun and hit Scar with a bolt of electricity, but Scar took it in stride without so much as a flinch. His skin rippled, fading blue to match his eyes, and as Gem watched, leathery blue wings burst from his back, shredding his shirt.

The guards barely had a chance to scream before Scar was on top of them, slashing through their flesh with his sharp teeth and black claws (sprouting from his fingertips, still growing longer and longer). He destroyed them in a matter of seconds, blood and viscera flying everywhere, spraying across Gem’s face. She choked, wiped off her eyes, then noticed, with a sense of growing horror, that Scar had stopped to—to eat one of the bodies, digging a hole into his chest and pulling out fistfuls of flesh with reckless abandon.

She opened her mouth to call to him, but no sound came out. Her lips trembled, her breath caught in her throat.

Was this creature still Scar? Blue and terrifying, wings flapping and long claws stuffed into a body, his pointed teeth dripping with blood. His hair was the same, his features still Scar’s (but for the eyes, piercing and ice-blue), the scars on his face unchanged.

Would he recognize her if she spoke to him? Or would he attack them, too?

How had Scar become this—this monster?

Another guard ran up to the cell, but instead of entering, they slammed the door shut, locking it.

That didn’t seem to do more than mildly annoy Scar and distract him from his meal. He growled animalistically, then scampered (and he moved oddly, launching himself from all-fours to flight in a couple of steps, his hands and feet pushing him along even as his wings carried him) to the door. Without warning, he stabbed his claws into the metal of the door and tore through it like it was nothing more than a leaf of paper.

Then he turned, his glowing eyes lighting on Gem and Pearl.

Gem couldn’t help it—she flinched away, pulling Pearl closer to herself. She didn’t know if Scar was a danger to her or not, but after what she just saw, she wasn’t prepared to be seen as a friend.

Oddly enough, Scar’s face twisted in regret. He offered a shrug—rather downplayed by the blood coating him. “Sorry,” he said, and his voice was entirely Scar’s (if with a bit of a lisp from the longer teeth). “I didn’t want—I didn’t want it to come to this.”

Gem wasn’t a squeamish person, but she still avoided looking down at the mutilated bodies. She couldn’t stand to think of literally eating a person—what had Scar become?

“I—I’ll explain later,” Scar said, as if he had heard her thoughts. “I’ll go find a communicator. And destroy their stuff.”

He dashed off down the hall.

Pearl moved against her, tipping her head back. “I’m tired,” she mumbled.

“I know,” Gem said, trying not to gag at the scent of blood that had begun to permeate the room. She swallowed, pushing down her fear. “We’re going home. Scar’s getting us home.”

That was all Pearl needed to hear. She fully slumped against Gem, dead asleep. Gem gently rubbed her back, buried her nose in her hair (carefully avoiding the stump of her antenna).

She hoped they got out of there quickly.

-

Pearl spent a lot more time resting than she ever had. Gem figured it was something similar to chronic fatigue, now that she was missing half of her main source of energy.

When she asked if it would grow back, Pearl had just shrugged.

“Only if I go back home.”

“Are you going to do that?”

“Probably not. It’s far away.”

Pearl still managed to create massive builds practically overnight, though, so Gem assumed it didn’t bother her too much.

Gem’s leg was still recovering, a month out from their week in captivity. It had been broken severely enough that she’d needed pins to hold the bones together, which put her at six weeks minimum in the cast. It limited her sparring and building abilities, but she did what she could on crutches to keep her skills from getting rusty.

She couldn’t spend all her time practicing, though, in order to let her body recover, so she ended up filling a lot of her time with meditation. Her impatience is what got her leg broken, after all, and she’d been beating herself up about it ever since.

Scar joined her, sometimes, at various points of interest across her base where she could look out over the valley and Pearl across the way. He would sit beside her in silence, oddly contemplative as he, too, stared at Pearl’s builds.

Gem understood, now, why Scar hadn’t wanted to act except in case of emergency. She wouldn’t want anyone to see her like that, either.

He had fully transformed back into something human (she wasn’t sure that he was human, though) by the time rescue arrived, and Cub had taken one look at the gore and taken Scar straight to his base on Hermitcraft, ignoring Xisuma’s insistence that he get checked over for injuries.

Now, as they sat on a hill, a couple of feet between them, Gem wondered what Cub knew.

Scar sighed beside her.

She wasn’t scared of him. She wondered if that was what he thought, that he kept sitting with her and sending her terribly guilty and forlorn looks because he expected to be faced with fear and disgust.

She wasn’t scared. It had been—well, it had been a shock, and she still hadn’t quite gotten the image of Scar eating a human body out of her head, but she wasn’t scared.

She just felt . . . awkward, bringing it up. Scar clearly hadn’t wanted them to see that part of him. He probably felt vulnerable, rejected. Why he kept hanging around her, she didn’t know, but she had to get rid of the barrier between them.

“How’s Scarland coming along?” she asked one day, kicking her good leg a little.

As simple as it sounded, that did it. That broke the ice, and Scar started rambling about something or other, and the next morning when she settled down to meditate, Scar was already there with blueprints in hand.

She stared at his fingers as he pointed out different aspects of his design, her mind’s eye momentarily seeing a blackened claw glistening with blood.

Well. If she ever needed help to murder someone, she knew who she was calling.

[acciopietro]

doctor pt. 3

pairing: namor x fem! reader

summary: you take an opportunity despite the repercussions. namor’s determination to protect his people blinds him.

part one part two part four

word count: 6,939

tw: lots and lots of death. forced suicide (because of the talokanil sirens). the typically stuff. lots of angsty and sadness

a/n: i was listening to happiness is a butterfly while writing so this took a turn for sure... it took a hot minute but i hope you enjoy nonetheless!! i’m nervous ab this so pls let me know your honest opinions...it kind of took a turn 

part one part two

IT REALLY ONLY TOOK ONE email to make your heart drop. It was a phone call and a series of texts, too, but it was the email that did it for you. Arial, Size 12 font, formal greeting, body paragraph, half-hearted thank you, polite goodbye. Signed Doctor Reynolds, Ph.D., with the name of your team and company. Message subject: Wakanda.

You read it with vigilant eyes, still hands resting on the metal of your laptop, blue light from the screen casting a cool glow onto your tired skin. The music in your earbuds continued to play, but the sound of The Weeknd wasn’t helping calm the way your heart’s steady beat began to pick up. The words on the email flashed out at you as if they were bolded: Wakanda, harvesting, vibranium, testing, trip. Trip?

“Hi, Doctor Reynolds,” you spoke casually into your telephone, despite your palms sweating around the handle of it. Twisting the coiled cord of it with your index finger, you said, “Yeah, I just got the email. I just had some questions...”

Long story short, a team of marine scientists had ventured into the pacific, delving into the deep seas in search of the vibranium you had found a little over a year ago. You had abandoned that research per Namor’s (tacit) request (more like demand), however, you had known that it was bound to be looked at at some point. The issue was that ships were now apparently being hijacked, their tracking machines being destroyed under water as well as large groups of scientists somehow falling off ship and into the waters to their tragic death. No one knew why.

Reynolds believed Wakanda had something to do with it. He believed that since they were well known for being the sole producers and protectors of all the Earth’s vibranium, he was under the impression that they were trying to stop the United States scientists from harvesting it. Which, you had thought to yourself, would be plausible considering the United States was notorious for taking things that weren’t necessarily theirs.

“Why are we getting involved?” you asked Reynold, gripping your scalp anxiously as you listened to Reynolds explain the situation. “It’s not like if we take a boat out there, we, somehow, will miraculously end up okay. If boats are being hijacked, then... oh, I don’t know...”

Reynold went on and on.

“Wait... you mean to tell me that you already booked it?” you shrilled. “Please excuse me if I’m stepping out of line here, but it’s very likely that our boat will just get hijacked, too. And besides, why do we care so much about vibranium, again? It doesn’t harm any marine life or ecosystems...”

Reynolds spewed a bunch of nonsensical answers, beating around the bush and never quite landing on the reason you know was true: getting money and getting power. Often the root of many of Reynolds’s aspirations.

“You’re more than welcome to deny the job,” Reynold says. “But I’ve decided that I want you on that boat. You’re a useful member of this team. Whether you like it or not, this could be very big.”

You clenched your jaw. “I’ll think about it.”

“You’ve got a week.”

You had only been home from Yucatán for one month. You had a wonderful four months of being with your sister and her family in the days and sneaking off with your man from the sea at night. You couldn’t have gotten closer to Namor; well, unless he took off his shorts and... well, you wouldn’t let him do it, anyways. He had asked. A few times. More than a few times. But for some reason, you just couldn’t do it. For starters, you weren’t on the pill and you were sure there wasn’t contraception under the sea (you asked if he had a condom one time, and he asked you what language that word was in. For someone who is immortal, he sure didn’t know a lot). 

You felt like sleeping with him for real for real would make things realer. It made him more of a commitment, gave him more power. And you told yourself you wouldn’t let it happen unless you were absolutely sure that he deserved it. It was really hard to say no sometimes, though. He sure knew how to persuade you.

Accepting the job and getting on the damn boat would for sure cause an issue if Namor found out. You didn’t want to search for vibranium, especially knowing the damage it would do to Wakanda if the United States got access to such a resource, and to Talokan if the States got knowledge of their existence. But... Reynolds personally invited you, and it could do wonders for your career if it went well. 

“I don’t see why not,” your sister said when you told her of your predicament the next day. “I mean, I understand the hesitation, especially if boats are being hijacked. But who knows, maybe they’ll get an Avenger and put them on board with you to keep you safe. Hopefully it’s Captain America.”

“As much as I’d love to have Sam Wilson on a boat with me for two weeks, I’m still not sure,” you groaned, plopping down onto your couch and opening up your laptop, the blue light hitting your face as you held your phone against your ear with your shoulder. Scrolling through the news, you said, “It just feels like a thing just for money. And, like, yeah, it is, but I... wait a second...”

You stopped scrolling, eyes casting across the headline of the latest CNN article, your lips falling apart. Wakanda’s King T’Challah dead at 41.

“Oh my gosh,” you breathed. Your sister asked you what it was on the other side of the phone, and you hastily forwarded the article to hear. She cursed, and both of you fell silent as you read. “Jesus Christ. I can’t go on that boat.”

---

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU won’t get on the boat?” asked Reynolds the followed week when you went into office. You shook your head, clenching your jaw.

“King T’Challah just died,” you told him matter-of-factly. “And if there really is more vibranium out there, and the States gets access to it, that’ll do a lot of damage to Wakanda.”

“We are not giving the States access to it,” Reynolds furrowed his brow, the hair of his grey mustache fluttering as he spoke. “We’re just figuring out how much of its in the water. It’s not our job to start harvesting it, that’s up to Archeology.”

“It doesn’t matter who does what,” you said feverishly. “We’re still helping do something that will eventually lead to bad things for Wakanda. And I don’t feel comfortable doing that, especially after their king just passed away.”

Reynolds narrowed his eyes at you, and said nothing before circling around to his desk and clicking the mouse of his computer. You blinked, watching him search around for something with a stern face. You waited a minute for him to speak, and when he didn’t, you cleared your throat.

“Sir..?”

“Look, L/N,” Reynolds looked at you from over his bifocals. “I understand where you stand on these more... well, political aspects of the job. But this is a big opportunity I’m offering you. If you decline, fine, but I’ll know that you’re not up to the task. I’ll give the job to Quade.”

You clenched your jaw, feeling something bubble in your stomach. Ugh, you thought. Quade. He was the worst. You knew it was wrong to take this job. Morally, it was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

“Okay,” you sighed defeatedly. “I’ll... I’ll do it.”

“Good,” Reynolds gave you a nod and stopped typing. He pressed the delete button and held it down. “I can get rid of this email to Quade then. We leave Friday. Back your bags and tell your family you love ‘em.”

---

UNDER THE THRASHING WAVES OF the Gulf of Mexico sat a king on his throne, his forearms resting on his strong, tensed thighs as he read a piece of torn paper. He had to put the paper under pieces of surface-dweller plastic so the pages didn’t fall apart under the water, but even still, the ink had smeared a bit. Nonetheless, Namor sat, his jaw clenched, and he read.

Namor, the letter read. 

Hopefully this letter got to you all right-- my niece isn’t always too reliable. I’m writing to you in an attempt to explain myself so you don’t find out from other sources. Some people from my team will be sailing out into the Gulf with another team that’s mining for vibranium. I wanted to deny the job, but I need to take whatever opportunities they throw my way if I want to keep my head above water. I’m going to do my best to protect you and your people, but there’s only so much I can do. I’m sorry. Really, I am. If there’s anything I can do that you can think of (without totally tarnishing my reputation and/or getting fired), find a way to let me know, and I’ll do it. Again, I’m really sorry. I hope you can forgive me. Hopefully I’ll see you soon.

Sincerely Apologetically Love

From, Y/N

Namor gripped the paper tight between his calloused, jewelry covered hands. Lifting his head, he glanced up at his people, the civilization they had built together, the vibranium everyone wore. He glanced at the chest plate he wore, the cuffs around his arms, at the vibranium he wore. It was everything.

He clenched his jaw, bowing his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. He laid the paper down on his lap, squeezing his eyes shut to think. 

“Namora!” he called out hastily, and after a little over a minute, the woman emerged into the space and walked up to him, standing before his throne. She knelt, opening up her palms to him in a greeting before standing up. “K'abéet in actualizaciones yóok'ol le láak' rastreador. Yaan in biin ta wéetel (I need updates on the next tracker. I’ll be going with you).”

---

THE DRIVE TO THE PORT was peaceful, palm trees swaying in the breeze and reminding you that, although it wasn’t Mexico, you were appreciative for the beauty and pleasantries of the place you lived in. Florida, with all of its ups and downs-- and you meant all of them-- was nice. The giant boat was astonishing once your Uber pulled up. People were hustling and bustling about the port, and you simply stared up at the giant ship, clutching the strap of your bag and admiring its beauty.

“Ah, Doctor L/N, good to see you. All packed?” asked Doctor Mishra, one of the men of the group who you actually liked to be around. You were thankful he was on the trip. “Boat’s giant, no?”

“Oh, yeah,” you whistled. “Y’know, I’ve never been on a boat like this.”

“I’ve been on a couple of cruises,” Doctor Mishra told you. “Wonderful vacations. However, we will not be waited on on this boat.”

“Fine with me,” you shrugged. “Do we just... go inside, or what?”

“Not sure,” he said. Smiling, he heaved his duffel bag over his shoulder and said, “Let’s find out!

Everything went smoothly for the first week and three days. All the men had to share rooms with at least one other person, and you were lucky enough that everyone agreed that you should have the single room. Your research seemed to be going fairly, however, you never caught a glimpse of the research of the others aside from Doctor Mishra, who you were doing a lot of your work with these days.

One evening, after a nice warm shower, you ventured out onto the deck of the ship, letting the ocean breeze cool your warm cheeks. You caught a glimpse, however, of Dr. Reynolds and Bernstein exchanging words on the deck, standing quite close and speaking under their breaths. You crept closer around the corner, trying to eavesdrop. 

“We found it around thirty-five miles from the west tip of Cuba, so we’re thinking if we move closer towards Cancún and Yucatán and all that, we’ll find more,” Bernstein said quietly but firmly. Reynolds nodded his head in understanding.

“But what of the machines?” he asked. “The last one was destroyed, you said, signal lost?”

“Something’s hungry down there,” Bernstein shrugged. “Or however far down the vibranium is, it’s too deep for our computers. We need higher tech to harvest it.”

Your stomach turned. The team wasn’t supposed to be thinking about harvesting vibranium. Reynolds had told you that was up to Archaeology. You gulped and kept listening, fighting the urge to jump out and ask a million questions.

"I’m in contact with some people up north who’ve got new stuff that could work,” Reynolds scratched his white beard pensively. “They’ve had limited success too, but it could be helpful.”

“Us getting this vibranium could change the game,” Bernstein said emphatically. “I mean, can you imagine if the government realized we had this stuff? They’d pay us a lot of money to take it off our hands.”

“This is more than just money, Bernstein,” Reynolds said lowly. “If Wakanda found out that the States got hold of the one thing they’ve got on us? We’re back on top.”

“Holy shit,” Bernstein ran a hand through his oily blonde hair and grinned. “I went into the right profession, that’s for damn sure!”

“Yes, well, let’s just see what the other men have gathered in the past week and compare,” Reynolds told him. “Maybe there’s something right under our noses that we haven’t noticed.”

You clenched your jaw and stepped out from behind the corner. You squeezed a fist in one hand to prevent yourself from lashing out, and it wasn’t until you cleared your throat that the two men noticed you.

“Oh, L/N!” Reynolds gave a gasp of surprise and then a chuckle. “Wasn’t expecting you to be out so late. Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“I don’t have a bedtime, sir, I’m a grown woman,” you said firmly. “But you’ve got about twenty years on me, so I’m confused as to why you’re not in bed either.”

Bernstein and Reynolds shared a glance.

“I’m also confused about all this I’m hearing about harvesting vibranium,” you said, not saying anything for a heartbeat to give them room to defend themselves. “I didn’t think that was what we were doing here. I also thought that as a team we were supposed to be, I don’t know, working together?”

“Look, L/N, you’ve got your own research, and so do we. We chose not to include you because you, for some reason, seemed very against delving deeper into this vibranium business,” Reynolds explained in a slow and calm voice as if he were speaking to a child. “This could be very lucrative for us and helpful for American forces.”

“You’re hiding shit from everyone,” you spat.

“No, I’m not,” Reynolds sneered. “Just from you.”

As if someone had pressed a button, all of a sudden Reynolds and Bernstein stood upright, their faces blank, eyes fogged over. You furrowed your brow and snapped in front of the former's face. A song began to echo the ship, as if someone was playing it on the loudspeakers, and you glanced around as if to see if someone else noticed it. 

You glanced up to the top deck, where a man stood next to a large scope. He was walking very uniformly, his face blank as well, and you watched as he continued to walk and walk and walk until--

You screamed bloody murder. The man walked until he reached the railing, where he hopped over it and simply threw himself off the ledge and into the depths of the ocean below. Breathing heavily, you whipped yourself around and watched as Reynolds, mesmerized by the song, began to walk towards the railing, Bernstein at his heels.

“No!” you cried, grabbing ahold of Reynolds’s arm to hold him back; he thrashed himself out of your grasp and climbed over the railing. You grappled at the back of his shirt, trying to tug him back, but he too, like a rag doll, plummeted into the crashing waves below. Bernstein was looming closer to the railing, and you wrapped your arms around his torso to hold him back.

You kept seeing men out of the corner of your eyes walk over the edge and throw themselves into the sea. You hadn’t realized it, but tears were pricking out of the corners of your eyes as you mustered up all your strength to try and hold Bernstein back from the edge.

“Snap-- out-- of-- it!” you cried, and brought one of your hands to slap him clean across the face. To no avail. Balling up a fist, you let go of him and stood between him and the railing; you wound up your arm and socked him clean across the face, to which he toppled onto his back. Blood was now seeping from his nose, but at least he wasn’t walking to his death. 

You squinted out into the sea, to try and figure out the source of the sound, but all you saw was the water and the midnight blue horizon. A groan from behind you alerted your attention; you dropped to your knees, shaking Bernstein awake.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you cried. He wiped his nose, the blood staining the sleeve of his white shirt.

“You fuckin’ punched me!” Bernstein muffled, sitting upright and punching you straight across the face, hard enough for you to topple back onto the deck. He got to his feet, and as if nothing had happened, his face became blank again. You groaned, sitting upright and clutching your bleeding nose as he walked towards the railing again. 

“No, no-- stop!” you called out, getting to your feet, but it was too late; Bernstein climbed over the railing and fell face first into the ocean. You saw the tail of a dolphin in the distance as his body disappeared, and you squeezed your eyes shut, covering your face with your hands, blood from your nose seeping through your fingers. “Jesus christ, what the fuck? What the actual fuck? What the fuck is happening?”

SPLASH! You drew your hands away from your face, and to your horror, saw the fins of sharks circling around the boat, the occasional tale of a dolphin, or the splashes of other marine life you couldn’t identify from so far away. The beating of your heart was so fast that at this rate you were sure you could die of a heart attack. Unable to take your eyes away from the sea of troubles below you, you were terrified to see the body of a whale rise close enough to the surface for you to see, and what shocked you the most was the outline of a person riding on its back. Your jaw dropped.

Without a second thought, you sprinted towards the hatch that led to the inside of the ship. You ran at top speed across the creaky wooden floor until you reached your room, grabbing your bag that held your journal, your phone, your laptop, and your camera. A knock at your door made you jump and almost yelp.

“It’s just me,” it was Doctor Mishra, his hair disheveled and his eyes wild. He had on a large pair of earmuffs. “Are you okay? Your nose is bleeding!”

“No!” you practically screeched. “I just fucking watched the entire crew kill themselves!”

“Everyone?”

“Well, I don’t know about everyone,” you stammered, shoving anything and everything important to you into your bag. You grabbed the printed map of the gulf, with annotations and drawings and other kinds of markings, and rolled it quickly before shoving it into your bag. Picking up your taser, you blinked at it before shoving it into your bag, too. “Bernstein and Reynolds are gone, same with the rest of the crew on the deck, and the man from the mast, and the--”

“Slow down,” Mishra said to you, squatting down next to you and handing you his handkerchief for your nose. “There’s almost no signal, and the only ways we can send out an S.O.S. are either from the red flare device on the mast, or by the radio in the control room.”

“Okay,” you breathed, putting the straps of your bag over your shoulders and tightening it so it wouldn’t fall off, wiping your nose despite it continuing to bleed. “But... what if we get all weird too and try and walk off?”

“Here,” Mishra fumbled with something in his pocket: wired earbuds. “Plug them into your phone and blast some music. Should do the trick. My earmuffs worked pretty well.”

You grabbed the earbuds from him, untangling them before plugging them into your ears. Grabbing your phone, you shuffled a playlist and turned up the volume. Mishra beckoned you to follow him out the door, to which you complied, Tyler, the Creator’s “ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?” blaring from the earbuds. Not the time, you thought, but you couldn’t afford to stand there a pick a good song for the occasion.

“I’ll head up to the mast,” you offered. “The control room is safer for you since it’s pretty contained.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “The mast is insanely high, you could get hurt.”

You clenched your jaw. “It’s fine. I’ll send out the flares. Good luck, okay?”

“Take care of yourself,” Mishra told you firmly. “Meet back on the deck in ten minutes or so.”

You nodded and turned, sprinting back up onto the deck and opening the hatch. There were people on the deck, with beautiful feathered headdresses and jaded armor. You stared at them for a moment, but before they could see you, you ran behind one of the poles, trying to focus on getting up to the mast. The ladder was on the other side of the deck, leading you to inch your way around the center portion until you could find the ladder with your eyes.

There were tons of the soldiers across the deck, running around, whispering to one another. They all held massive, sharp spears, the jade and gold glinting under the pale moonlight. It reminded you of Namor, you thought, until you realized it was possible they were his people. As much as you trusted him, you didn’t trust the spears; you weren’t about to risk your life, and even Doctor Mishra’s life, just to reunite with the man from the sea. 

You bolted towards the ladder, grabbing the bars and climbing up it with no hesitation. Someone from below shouted something. You didn’t look down, moving at a speed you were sure you had never moved at before, until you reached the top level where the light machine and the red flare device were located. You practically threw yourself onto the bright red button, pressing it over and over again so tens of red flares shot up into the night sky.

Your earbuds were playing Childish Gambino, now, and despite it being one of your favorite songs of all time, you couldn’t find it in you to enjoy it. You kept pressing the button, red flare after red flare firing into the sky. People were shouting from below you, in a language you couldn’t decipher, especially with “Me and Your Mama” blasting into your ears.

You took a brief moment to glance at the deck, peering over the railing. Someone was climbing up the mast, the gold of their armor glinting under the light of the mast. You panicked, unzipped your bag and grabbed your taser. You ran to the other side of the table-like desk in the center of the platform and crouched behind it.

Feet adorned in golden-plated sandals planted onto the platform. You swallowed your breath, holding out your taser for when they rounded the desk. You cursed your earbuds; you were sure they could hear the Childish Gambino blasting from them. When they rounded the corner, you shot up and stuck out the taster onto their stomach, to which they convulsed and stumbled backwards. You pressed the red button a handful more times, but before you could act again, you felt a hand grab you by the neck and heard the cling of a blade being unsheathed.

“Suelta a arma (Drop your weapon),” the person holding you said firmly, to which you shakily dropped your taster. It clattered onto the wooden platform. The soldier let you go, your back towards the ladder, and with the shear pointed right at you, commanded, “Péeksik (Move).”

You couldn’t understand them, but you had enough context clues to understand what the soldier wanted. You caught a long enough glimpse at them to see a strange mask over their mouth and nose, water splashing around inside of it. You wanted to look for longer, but they nudged you with the butt of their spear, so without protest, you climbed down the ladder.

By the time you reached the floor of the deck, you barely had a moment of freedom before the soldier grabbed you again, holding you by the shoulders with their spear at your neck. They spoke to another soldier, the blade of the spear dangerously close to your skin. 

One of the soldiers wore a tall, orange-feathered headdress, with the same feathers donned around the necklace she wore that looked like it was made out of something woven. The soldier holding you shoved you forward, hard enough that you stumbled over your feet and almost fell flat on your face. As soon as you were released, the other soldiers circled you, spears pointed.

“Vacíe u póoj (Empty your bag),” she commanded. You blinked, not understand. At your silence, one of the soldiers poked your bag with their spear, nudging it off. You reluctantly shook it off of your shoulders, letting it fall onto the deck. “Je'e le! (Open it!)”

Another soldier poked it with your spear before another nudged you forwards. Lowering to your knees, you grabbed the back and opened the zipper pocket so the contents of your bag was visible. One of the soldiers snatched it from you, turning it upside down and shaking it so everything fell out; your map tumbled to the ground, along with your computer, camera, and journal. Cringing at the sound of your computer and camera dropping onto the deck, you made a move to stand, but the feeling of a spear pressed against the back of your neck kept you down.

The woman in the headdress, who you assumed was in charge, bent down and picked up the map, unrolling it. She ran her finger where you had outlined the hypoxic zone in red pen, the notes near the southern border of the United States, as well as the circle around your sister’s town in Yucatán.

“Talokan ma' u dibujado (Talokan is not drawn),” she said. In broken English, she read the notes and pronounced. “Hi-gh con-cen-tra-ti-on.”

You gulped, watching them interact with one another. The one behind you holding the spear to your neck said, “Ba'ax le kíins wa ma'? (Do we kill her, or not?)”

“Le ajawo' tu ya'alaj ma' u testigos (The king said no witnesses),” another soldier proclaimed. “Kíisa (Kill her).”

“Pa'atik! (Wait!)” one exclaimed, leaning down and grabbing your wrist. “Ilawil u x-oron (Look at her wrist).”

“Lelo' u Talokan (That is from Talokan),” another said, to which gasps and murmurs spun around the circle of soldiers. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment; the word Talokan was circling your brain. Namor. These were his people. Where was he? Why were they on your ship, killing your team? About to kill you?

“K'aaba' ti' le ajawo' (Call the king),” the woman said, to which one of the soldiers held up a large conch shell. After a beat of silence, the soldier brought it up to their lips and blew through it, a loud clarion call resounding through the air. After the call ended, the woman announced to the soldiers, “Leti' jach le ts'ook viva (She is the last alive).”

“Le ajawo' yéetel complacido (The king will be pleased),” a soldier said. 

“Y/N!” came someone's voice from above. Your heart lurched when you saw Doctor Mishra from atop one of the platforms where the radio room was. You internally cursed him for revealing his presence to the soldiers. The soldiers shouted something, and one moved to go after Mishra, but before he could, a figure shot through the air towards where the doctor was.

The figure landed on the platform next to Mishra, who, before he could run away, was struck in the head with the butt of a spear; Mishra fell to the floor, alive, but unconscious. The figure flew up into the air, circled the mast, before soaring towards where you and the soldiers were, landing with a hand on the deck.

The soldiers knelt, joining their hands at the wrists and opening their palms to him. The figure moved, the wings at his angles fluttering as he stood up. Your breath caught in your throat when he set eyes on you, breaking through the circle of soldiers to stand before your kneeling figure.

“You,” was all you could breathe when Namor stared down at you, his spear gripped in his hand. His hair was slicked back with the water of the ocean, his eyes narrowed in one of the deadliest glares you had ever witnessed. A chill went up your spine.

“I gave you that because I trusted you,” Namor poked the bracelet on your wrist with the tip of his spear. Your hands were shaking now, tears pearling at the corners of your eyes. “And here you are... harvesting vibranium. Just as you promised me you would not do.”

“I... you didn’t read my letter?” you stammered out. He was scaring you. There were drops of saltwater on his eyelashes, those ebony eyes of his making you simultaneously melt with adoration and freeze with fear. “I thought... they... they lied to me, they said we were just finding the concentration, I didn’t know they were harvesting it here--”

“You lied to me,” Namor said slowly with composure. His jaw clenched. Something in his eyes changed. “You tricked me.”

“I didn’t,” you were crying now. “I didn’t. I promise, K’uk’ulkan--”

“You do not deserve to call me that,” he gave a dry scoff. He gulped. He wasn’t just angry, you saw; he was upset. Devastated. “You are now an enemy.”

“Look at the map!” you urged him, scrambling to find it. “Look at my notes! I didn’t-- it’s not even near Yucatán, it’s-- it’s just where the concentration was higher, I swear--”

“High Concentration,” the woman from before said, handing the map to Namor. He took it, unrolling it and eyeing the area you had outlined.

“What is this?” Namor asked you, not meeting your eyes. You sniffed, swallowing the frog in your throat.

“It’s-- it’s just where I found the high concentration of vibranium in the first place. I thought we were just supposed to go back to that area, in the northern Gulf, to test the concentration, and that’s what I thought we were researching! That’s what my-- that’s my project. My work.”

“Your project,” Namor repeated. 

“Remember?” you practically begged. “Remember how I spent all that time working and you stopped me from getting data? That’s what I was researching! That’s what I’m doing here! I didn’t know that fucking Bernstein and Reynolds were trying to harvest vibranium! I had no idea!”

“How am I supposed to believe you?”

You could barely catch your breath. “I-- I don’t know. My map, my computer, my journal, my goddamn phone, everything’s in there. Take it all, I don’t care. Read everything I’ve ever written, you’ll see!”

Namor bent down and picked up your journal, flipping open to the first page and starting to read. Your knees were starting to hurt from how long you’ve been sitting on them. The silence was deafening, watching him flip through the journal. He read every single word, and you tried to calm your breathing as you watched his face change as he continued to flip.

When he reached the last page, he closed the journal and held it by his side. His glare was gone; he was frowning now, refusing to look at your face. Glancing up at the soldiers, he lifted a hand, to which they lowered their spears away from you and backed up. Namor extended a hand to you as if to help you to your feet. You eyed it hesitantly, but seeing the grimace on his face, you took it and stood.

He didn’t say anything. It was like he couldn’t. He avoided your eyes, and without a word, he turned around towards the railing, resting his forearms on it with a sigh. You were still shaking, but as your fear subsided, you felt the anger bubbling up in your stomach. A drop of blood fell from your nose, touching your top lip.

“You killed everyone,” you muttered, wiping the blood off of your lip. He turned his head and said nothing. “Your people almost killed me.”

“I will do anything for my people,” he told you carefully. His voice was wavering. “If they are threatened, I do not care what it takes. I will protect them.”

You weren’t sure what to say. You walked up beside him, resting your arms on the railing, too. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his chest rising and falling with a quick cadence, and despite not being able to hear his fast breathing, you could see he was becoming flustered.

“I pray you can find it in you to understand my motives,” he continued. You, again, said nothing. You could barely form words, your mouth dry. There was something warm on the back of your neck; you brought your hand up to touch it, only to find fresh blood on the pads of your fingers. The spears had cut you. Namor glanced over at your bloodied hand, brows twitching. He reached towards you, “Allow me to--”

You flinched back. You couldn’t look at him. He dropped his hands and bowed his head, staring at the waters below. They were calm, now, the sharks and dolphins no longer splashing about. That whale you had seen had gone, too. You willed your rapid beating heart to cease, wishing your chest would stop twisting and turning.

“I get it,” you murmured, using the collar of your shirt to wipe the last bit of blood from your nose. Namor’s head twitched up, eyes on you in less than a second. “Gotta protect your people, just like you were when you wouldn’t let me take those samples. But this... this is... what I saw...”

“If I had known you weren’t apart of it, I would never have let--”

“I wish you had trusted me,” you sniffled, finally looking at him. His ebony eyes were wider than you had ever seen them, brown brows tilted upwards in a form of desperation you would have never picture them having. He was beautiful. “My letter, I thought... I thought I explained it.”

“You did,” Now that Namor had caught your eyes, he didn’t dare look away in fear of losing them again. “You did, I... jumped to conclusions.”

“You jumped to conclusions,” you repeated, breaking the eye contact. You clenched your jaw. “So you killed my entire team.”

Namor’s mouth opened and closed like a fish for a second, unable to find proper words. “You have to understand where I’m coming from, here. These ships harvesting our vibranium-- Talokan’s vibranium-- would put us at risk. It could lead to the end of my people.”

“I know,” you sighed, closing your eyes and putting your head on your hands where they rested against the railing. The ocean’s breeze struck at your forehead, cooling your skin and blowing your hair off your face. Namor didn’t say anything, but you could feel him looming closer. You hid your face from him.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice so soft you almost didn’t hear him over the breeze. “Please look at me.”

After a prolonged second, you lifted your head from your arms, the breeze chilling the tears that had rolled down your cheeks. You couldn’t meet his eyes. You couldn’t bear it.

“Take me home,” you said quietly. He blinked. “Please.”

“To... to Yucatán?” he inquired, a layer of hope underneath his words.

“No,” something was twisting in your chest. “To Miami.”

“...right now?”

“Yes.”

Namor didn’t move, just staring at you with those puppy dog eyes that made you want to wrap your arms around him and pull him into you. 

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Please, Y/N, we have to--”

“Yes, I am sure,” you said pointedly, despite the wobbling of your voice. “It’s not like there’s anything for me to do here, anyways. Everyone’s dead.”

Namor raised an arm, and the female Talokanil soldier from earlier came to his side. He muttered something to her in his native language; you hadn’t bothered to listen, for one because you didn’t speak a word, but for two because for some reason, hearing his voice was making it difficult to hold your ground.

“Come,” he said to you, holding his hand out. You glanced over at him; he began to rise from the ground, wings on his ankles keeping him suspended in the air. You glanced at his hand. “Do you trust me?”

You felt your lower lip tremble. 

“I don’t know,” you said, grabbing his hand anyways. He frowned, his eyes more glassy than ever. You wondered if he would cry. He pulled you up, gently wrapping an arm around your waist and holding you tight on his side, his other arm holding his spear.

In a flash, you were soaring towards the horizon, the cold, salty air whipping you in the face as he flew. His skin was cold against yours, and despite your anger, you pushed yourself against him, wondering when the next time you’d feel him would be.

The gold of his jewelry pressed against your skin, and you stared at the way in glinted under the pale moonlight. You stared at him, the jade in his septum, the point of his ears, the bronze of his skin. There were tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, prevented from rolling down his face and simply flying away from the force of the wind.

You hadn’t realized how quickly you were flying. The shore was near, you could see the lights of the city as you approached it. You slowed, your hair relaxing from the absence of the harsh wind. Scrunching your nose to get some feeling back in it, your feet skimmed the top layer of the ocean as he brought you to the sand and let you go.

You dusted your self off, fixing your head and allowing yourself to adjust to being back on the ground. You had gotten dizzy from the flight, but came to it in less than a minute. You glanced at where his hand still held his spear. When he saw you look at it, he lowered it without hesitation. You finally laid eyes on Namor. The tears from earlier had fallen onto his cheek. 

“Do you fear me?” he asked.

“I fear what you’re capable of,” you muttered. “Because I don’t think you’ll ever trust me.”

“I trust you,” he breathed. You frowned. “I trust you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do,” he insisted, falling to his knees in front of you. His ebony hair was partially covering his eyes, but the wind suddenly pushed it back so you could see his face. Your eyes widened, gaze lowering to where he sat. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I trust you. Fully.”

You could barely believe the sight before you; Namor, on his knees. You were cruel, you thought. You were still crying. 

“I just need some time,” you said, feeling your heart change at the sight of him. His eyes kept flickered around your face, to one eye, to your nose, to your lips, to the other eye, back to your lips. “Okay?”

“Time?” he repeated, nodding, knees digging into the sand, wings on his ankles fluttering a bit. “Yes, that’s-- as much time as you want.”

“Okay,” you sighed. Namor slowly rose to his feet, reminding you of the way he towered over you. He didn’t let his eyes leave yours, as if he were trying to tell you something tacitly. He looked at your lips. 

He lifted his hands towards your face, and when you didn’t flinch away, he cupped both of your cheeks with his palms. You closed your eyes, heart thumping. 

“Whenever you are ready,” he began, his thumb rubbing over your cheekbone. “I’ll be here. All right?”

“Mm-hm,” you said, letting yourself look at him. He nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. 

“Good-bye,” he said. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your hairline so tenderly you thought you might start sobbing right then and there. Before you could say anything more, he soared up into the air, flying away and disappearing into the midnight sky. You wiped at your cheeks, ridding the tears, and with a sigh, you turned around and made for your apartment.

---

taglist:

@childishnewt @criesinlies @fairydxll @cassiestars777 @mcximvffs @kaqua @xlucyintheskywithdiamondsx @eichenhouseproperty @aliyahsomerhalder @lovenewfandoms @justkay2 @only-his3  @deadlydahlias @nellycanwrite @vlamley @seraphimcollections @kingtwhiddleston @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @doimakeyounervous @blue-chup @myotakureprieve @lulu-83 @seraphimcollections @kingtwhiddleston @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @atabeyguabancex @doimakeyounervous @chaoticevilbakugo @theamericanjewitch @tian-monique @kentucky-criedfricken​ @takeyour-pants-off

a/n: please remember to update your privacy settings so i can tag you!! so many people asked to be on the taglist but then i can’t tag them for some reason... please make sure you update it! thanks everyone <3

[flowervolcano]

DEADPOOL #7 SPOILERS AHEAD!!

I’ve warned you. Now I’m gonna talk and share some images, this is about Taskmaster and Ellie, because there’s much I’ve been thinking about—

I loved the comic, I was a little sad there wasn’t an actual reaction to coming home and finding Wade dead, but it’s better to move forward instead of spending too much time in one spot. Watching how Ellie is deals with this definitely had my heartstrings tugged, even though she thinks she’s not in the denial stage, she actually is.

It’s shown very well, her unwillingness to accept he’s really gone. That she doesn’t want to believe that’s true because she just got him back. Excellent way to establish her grief. I feel so much for her, I’ve always loved Ellie, so getting to read more about her and seeing her inner thoughts, love that so much!

As for Taskmaster; We get nothing from his end, which makes a lot of sense, this isn’t really about him and he is way too professional to let this trip him up. Tasky made a promise after all, making sure Ellie gets through this is more of his priority now. And I really LOVED the undertones written into how he handles it with Ellie. It’s not in a traditional sense that most people try with comforting.

But it’s his special way of how he does. And honestly, I love that about his character. He’s not big on heartfelt stuff, emotions or anything of that sort. Not to say he doesn’t understand them, he’s certainly not stupid. Not at all, however, he consciously chose to spend his whole life detached, removing himself from personal things like romance, family, etc. making sure he never got close to anybody so there wouldn’t be any leverage on him.

So I do think that makes him more of an outlier when it comes to dealing with situations like these, he won’t know the exact way to comfort someone, not that it means that he doesn’t care, he’s just never gotten close enough to experience it.

And yet that’s what makes him work well with Ellie, she needs somebody who is gonna keep her grounded, keep an eye on her, let her deal with this in her own time without being coddled too much. This is not to say there isn’t some compassion needed during this moment, she has her sister, Princess to fill that role.

Ellie is going through so much in such little time, but that she doesn’t need someone to baby her and tell her how to grieve, she just needs someone to help her through it. And it’s better than having someone else being emotionally unstable too. So Tasky balances her out well!

Delving into this topic more, I’ve brought along the panels for my talking points and examples, as to why I think he is doing good, and how much I’m loving the way their relationship works. Is he a good father figure? Surprisingly, yes. (Don’t argue. I have my reasons as to why)

You see, after he chewed her out for blowing up a guy with intel they needed, he doesn’t punish her, which he could’ve done just for her messing up the mission, he has no problem calling her out, but he never takes it too far; I will further address this in a moment. But I’m getting off track, in this panel he tells her that watching those videos will just bring her more heartbreak, he is very aware of her goals/emotions, he doesn’t downplay it or tell her how to process things.

He just suggests that it may not be healthy for her in this moment, because he knows she wants to bring her father back, but he doesn’t want her devoting herself to something that will only disappoint her in the end (Tasky really has a heart)

The next part. Tony addresses what to do about Ellie. She says she’s fine, but he knows she’s not. It would be wrong to even say otherwise. He knows it is hard for her. So he gets right to the bottom of it.

After establishing his concern, he explains further as to why he is, Tony made notice of her outburst on the mission and while he could’ve dismissed this and told her to get it together that she can’t grieve forever, he doesn’t. In fact he endorses how she has every right to be pissed off, that he won’t stop her from dealing with those emotions, but he then warns that there’s a place for that to be used. Those feelings can’t interfere with the job, otherwise that can put her in danger more than anything else, if she is not emotionally stable enough she may get distracted and bested in combat.

While those aren’t his words, you know exactly what his words intend. “I can’t have you out there givin’ me a bad rep” is definitely his way of expressing his concern for her without flat out saying “Ellie, you could get yourself hurt if your feelings cloud your mind.” This is sort of where the “punishment” comes in, it’s not addressed exactly, but it is implied that because she is under his name now, she needs to listen to his rules, and he’s not just being her boss or mentor here, he is absolutely playing a father figure role; ignoring the fact that he doesn’t admit this!!!

This moment crushed me— I could go on a very VERY long and intricate discussion on this moment, because that’s when I just KNEW the writers aren’t playing. Ellie is so desperate to bring her Dad back, and Tasky acknowledges it, but is trying his best to not let her get those hopes up, to help bring her into reality without completely crushing her. He knows she wants him back, but there’s nothing that they can do yet. But then makes it very clear he is going to help get revenge on Death Grip, but that they need time and a strategy before they can even consider going toe-to-toe with him.

Quickly mentioning the part where Tasky tells Ellie he made a promise and she replies with”to look after me?” And he’s like NO! I freaking love that, he is NEVER gonna admit that at all, and that’s what we love about him, bro has one of the biggest hearts ever and that’s why he’s so protective over it. (I said what I said)

Might be looking too deep into it, but he is still making sure that she is ACTUALLY able to do this without any problems. Not just for his rep, but for her own good.

And then we have the moment he lets her go out on her own. He knows he’ll have to let her make her own decisions, it’ll help her grow. But yeah. He cares.

Finally, this moment. Genuinely made me laugh. He is going to have so much grey hair working with her!!!

I’m gonna explode over this comic series!!!! I love it soooo much 😭💚

[the-himawari-otome]

[Piofiore: Episodio 1926] Character Drama CD Vol. 3 Orlok Translation

Track 3: Heute ist die beste Zei.

Summary: Orlok realizes what this growing feeling inside of him means...

Translated by ear so it might not be 100% accurate.

･ﾟ･:,｡★ translation under the cut ★,｡･:･ﾟ

*sfx: door closes*

“Meow”

—Ah. I’m home. So you were awake. I’ll get his food ready. You keep Notte company, alright?

*sfx: walks over*

“Meow, meow”

Here. From today on, this will be your plate. The two of us chose it together.

*sfx: places plate down*

“Meow”

Mm, it looks like he likes it for now. Is the food good?

“Meow, meow, meow”

Hm? Ah, are you saying you want to share your food with us?

“Meow”

Um, Notte. I’m happy, but she and I already ate so don’t worry. Eat up, okay? I also bought some toys, so let’s all play together later.

Hm? What’s wrong?

Eh? Ahh, I guess you’re right. It feels like he’s gotten bigger than when he first arrived. Kittens sure grow fast. I feel like his fur became a bit nicer too. It’s pitch black and beautiful. Plus, I think he’s gotten cuter since the beginning.

Hm? Why are you smiling? I’m a doting parent? Ngh, I don’t think so though…

“Meow… meow”

Ah, Notte climbed on your lap again. He’s been doing that a lot lately, huh? I suppose he likes it?

“Meow”

It looks like he feels good getting pet. It’s a bit unfair. I mean, I…

Eh? Ah—no, you don’t have to pat my head. Ah, it’s not that I don’t want you to… it’s just, I’ll get more and more spoiled…

Ngh, well… just a little then…

Mm, that feels nice. I really love your hands.

It’s because you held my hands—it’s because you didn’t shake off my hands—that I’m here right now. You have no idea how many times these hands which are smaller than mine have saved me.

Ehe, thank you. I’ve had my fill. Now if only Notte would get off your lap, it would be perfect—.

“Meow”

*sfx: licks*

Ah—t-t-that’s not allowed! Ngh…

“Meow”

Notte, no licking her mouth.

“Meow”

Nope, no can do. After all, she’s my girlfriend. I’m the only one allowed to do those things—err, n-no. You should mind too. The mouth isn’t okay, even if it’s Notte. I don’t care if it’s childish. I want to do these things properly.

I-I’m not pouting.

“Meow”

Hm, Notte? *Sigh* he looks kind of sleepy. Even though we were discussing something important. Geez.

“Meow”

Ngh, I got it. I’ll take you to your bed, okay?

*sfx: walks away and comes back*

*Sigh*. Notte’s not fair. I’m always putting in tons of effort to hold back.

Ah, what I’m holding back on is probably different than what you’re thinking.

Huh? Well, that’s… at first, I was just happy holding your hand. My chest felt warm and fuzzy. I thought, ah, I want to protect this person—no, I will protect them. I was satisfied just being able to be by your side. That alone was enough. Even so, when I kissed you for the first time, my chest became all hot. My feelings of love for you grew more and more. I wonder when it started… the feeling that simply kissing you wasn’t enough grew larger. What should I do? What do I want to do? I wasn’t sure.

Before we came to England, back when I was working in Lienz, the shopkeeper did a lot to help us out, right? At that time, I had the opportunity to ask about a-a lot of things. And so… I feel like I came to understand what these feelings of mine meant.

—But how you feel is even more important, so…! I… don’t know how to put this. Up until now, there have been times where I kissed you whenever I wanted, wasn’t there? Even if it troubled you, you didn’t stop me. Because of that, I thought that you would definitely spoil me and forgive me, and I was sure that you… also felt good when you kissed me… since you loved me. So what I want to do now… is… w-what comes after that. If you don’t want to, then we won’t.

*sfx: hugs*

Ah, h-huh? You surprised me by hugging me so suddenly. You’re kind of like Notte.

Ehe, how cute.

Hey, when you’re hugging me like this, I don’t feel as nervous as I did before. However… now, my heart races much more than before.

I want to treasure you. I love you the most in the entire world. That’s why…

That’s why…

*sfx: kiss*

Let’s… do… what comes after kissing.

---

[DO NOT USE OR REPOST MY WORK W/O PERMISSION, THANK YOU]

[crazylittlejester]

bro. i am in the same boat as you.

asfhdjkss seeing you stress and become disappointed about whumptober is making ME FEEL THE SAME......

feeling upset about your writing and all the prompts not being correctly put down into words can be very hard and complicated!! i get it!!!

it's totally normal to feel that way and i assure you, it's okay!

just know that, even if it is your own decision, you don't have to feel obligated to do all 32 days. that's a bunch of work for someone and a whole lot of planning and writing and that can effect someone's energy and mental health. i appreciate your effort in trying to do it though! but please, don't get worried about producing so many mediocre fics, at the end of the day you're still writing things and im proud!!!

i saw your post about this and immediately felt bad so i hope this can help you feel even a little better... even so, i will be looking forward to anything you end up writing! you are such a fantastic author, never forget that. <3

thanks man 🫶 /gen

i have really been struggling a lot lately with this, and it’s been very hard to not get angry with myself over it because I feel like I haven’t been able to write in months and I’ve been struggling with hating most of what I write these days and I get so incredibly anxious to post anything because I feel like my ability to write and the quality of my fics has deteriorated sooo much. I’ve had my ao3 acc since 2018 and every year I’ve kinda made a tradition almost of orphaning everything I write and starting fresh at the start of the new year because I dislike the vast majority of what I write but I realized a few months ago that I don’t think I can do that this year- this is certainly the most attention my fics have ever gotten and I think at least one person would come yell at me in my asks if i disappeared off the face of the earth never to write for LU again allddkkd

its just very hard not to feel upset about being burnt out for so many months, and it’s hard to see how engagement has been down and have to remind myself it’s not because i suck, it’s literally just because i’ve been making less content. of course engagement would be down, the main reason most people interact with me is BECAUSE I write or do analysis posts or make content, so if im not putting out as much as i used to then that tracks and makes sense, but it’s hard to stop the intrusive thoughts sometimes. It is certainly a fight to not feel useless when I can’t do the one thing I’m supposed to be doing with this blog

anyways… it makes me really happy that there are at least a few people who will read whatever i throw up onto ao3, and all of you who regularly read the things i write and send me asks n such genuinely make me so happy. all of you are awesome

and thank you for this, it was really kind and sweet of you. i hope you have a good day, remember to take care of yourself and get some water n food 🫶

*wet cough* anyway *sniffle* y’all wanna see my tav…? /j *kicks a rock*

[sonic-hot-takes]

New Sonic media needs to introduce more heroic male characters to the lineup.

Normally I like my takes quick and spicy and let people come to their own conclusions with them, but out of all my thoughts on the series that I’ve shared with fellow Sonic fans, this one tends to get the most ire. Bellow the cut are my more in depth thoughts on the matter.

I may be forgetting someone but I’m pretty sure the last character the series introduced that was simultaneously a guy, a hero, and had any sort of staying power was Silver all the way back in TWO THOUSAND SIX. This applies to ALL Sonic media/canon, by the way (be it the games, comics, spin offs like Boom, etc.)

The closest character I could think of that fills this criteria is Razor from the post-reboot Archie comics—he did appear in both the main comic and Sonic Universe, and was the only new character to get his own SCO backstory—but for obvious reasons he’s not showing up again any time soon. I don’t count Chip or Yacker since they’re pretty blatantly meant to be one off characters that fill a specific niche for that game’s plot. Also let’s be real they’re both mid as hell

Compare this to the girls: Sticks, Tangle, Whisper, Sage (who is framed as more of an antihero in Frontiers than a villain), Trip, this new girl from Dream Team…

People scream sexist at me whenever I bring this up, which is ironic because I am a Girl™ myself. My favorite Sonic character, Blaze, is a Girl™. Sticks is one of my favorite additions to the series in a long time, and she’s a Girl™. I’m not against Girl™ in Sonic.

BUT it does make me raise a brow looking at the track record of new characters that have been introduced to the series, specifically when it comes to gender and morality alignment. This is a lot more prevalent in the IDW comics than in the games, but it’s present in both.

Since Colors (which signaled a shift in direction in the series), the new antagonists we’ve gotten in the games are: Orbot and Cubot, the mostly male Deadly Six, the Hardboiled Heavies (if you wanna count them), Infinite, and Sage (kind of). In the IDW comics, we’ve gotten Rough and Tumble, Dr. Starline, Mimic, Clutch, Kit, and Surge.

In the same time period, the new leading/supporting protagonists we’ve gotten in the games are Yacker, the Forces OC, Sage (kind of), Trip, and Ariem (the new girl from Dream Team). You can also squeeze Sticks in here since she’s the only Boom character to get any extra relevance or spotlight on her outside of that spin off. In the IDW comics, we’ve gotten Tangle, Whisper, Jewel, Belle, and Lanolin.

Sure, there’s a little overlap here and there. But you should notice a pattern.

Do not interpret this as me saying that Sonic Team or the writers at IDW have some kind of anti-men agenda going on. That’s not what I’m suggesting. BUT I am getting tired of every new hero being a girl and just about every new villain being a boy. Can’t we switch it up a little?

Even the most prominent female antagonists in the series have some kind of sympathetic edge to them. Surge was brainwashed and experimented on by Starline. Sage’s character arc is supposed to be the focal point of Frontiers, and she only does evil things under Eggman’s command. Trip isn’t even evil in the first place, she just ends up working with Eggman and Fang for…reasons, and ultimately turns against them and becomes a playable hero. They’re not framed the same way that most, if not all of the male villains are. Not even Merlina is fully immune of this.

Outside of the sexist allegations, I usually get one of two responses whenever I bring this up:

A lot of Sonic fans are girls, so the series should introduce more female characters in order to appeal to their female fans.

The series already has a lot of male characters, so they need to balance out the cast with more girls.

Both of these points have their merits and flaws. I think that both of them are/were true up to a certain point, but nowadays they don’t hold up as well after we HAVE gotten tons of new female characters. When Sticks and Tangle were first shown off, I was ecstatic! Sticks being a fourth wall breaking conspiracy theorist is both tons of fun and a character archetype that the series hadn’t explored until then, and Tangle has one of my favorite designs of any Sonic character. But at some point, I started to notice the trend of every new hero being a girl and every new villain being a boy, and it really started to bother me. For IDW Sonic it was around the time Belle and Clutch were introduced (with Lanolin ultimately being the straw that broke the camel’s back—she insists upon herself), and for the games it was after seeing Ariem in Dream Team (I probably would’ve been more annoyed by the Fang/Trip dichotomy if I wasn’t absolutely joyous that the Nack Is Baaaaack). The whole “we need to introduce more girls to the series” angle doesn’t hold up as well when the series seems reluctant to commit to a straight up evil girl. Sonic desperately needs to flesh out his rouges gallery in the games, so why not add an absolutely psycho female antagonist?

Also this is a more personal note but I hate hate HATE it when people allege that girls can’t relate to male characters, so franchises need to introduce the Girl™ character so the Girls™ can relate to her. Can girls not relate to boys? Can boys not relate to girls? Once again, not against female characters in general, but that particular mindset has and will always bother me.

Who knows, maybe Ariem will end up being the main villain of Dream Team. It’d be cool, but I don’t see Sonic Team taking that route, especially not on an Apple Arcade exclusive. I don’t expect any big twists in that game.

Those are my two cents. I just think it’d be cool if we got a new boy as well as all the new girls we’ve been getting.

[set-phasers-to-whump]

let me help

prompt: asking for help

whumpee: illya kuryakin

fandom: the man from uncle

hi happy halloween and welcome to my last fic of the month!! it's pre-ship and that's all there is to it. (title from the city on the edge of forever which is a star trek tos episode that i've been obsessed with for years. yeah.)

“Can you help me?”

Napoleon stops dead in his tracks. He can count on…well, no hands the amount of times he’s ever heard such a request from his partner. Admittedly they’ve only been working together a couple months, but still. Gaby’s asked. Napoleon himself has asked. 

Illya, though? Never. 

“What with?” Napoleon asks, all casual. He doesn’t want Illya to back off, to rescind his trust. 

“I cannot—this report. I do not understand what I am supposed to write.”

Napoleon moves over beside Illya and looks down at the paper atop his desk. It’s a standard mission report, and Illya has filled out the basics, but a lot of it is just blank space. 

Napoleon gets it—there are a lot of technical words involved in the report, and even he as a native speaker of English sometimes struggles to parse his experiences into the kind of terms the bureaucracy is looking for. 

“Yeah, so in this part,” Napoleon starts, gesturing to a box, “you need to write down the equipment you used.”

“Only me?”

“Yes. Gaby and I’ve filled out the same form, so they know what we’ve used collectively. This is individual data.”

“Okay,” Illya says, and Napoleon watches him very slowly write down the name of his gun, his knife, the personal radio. 

This feels weird. Not because of the task itself, which is actually quite nice, getting to explain things he understands and help his partner, but because Illya’s already filled out three mission reports before this. Why hadn’t he asked before?

Illya sniffs, huffs out a breath, and says, “I don’t want to write this.”

“I know the feeling, but we have to.”

Another sniff and another sigh. “Tomorrow I will do it.”

This is really weird. Illya is never one to put off work for tomorrow which could be done today. It’s just not how he is. 

“Are you sure? I can help you some more.”

Illya shakes his head. Napoleon feels still more strongly that something isn’t quite right. 

“Are you feeling okay?”

Illya looks at him very intently, and very deliberately says, “I am fine.”

Something in his expression emboldens Napoleon, tells him he’s right. And so he pushes. “No, you’re not. Something’s the matter, and you might as well tell me.”

Illya scowls. “You don’t know this.”

“You asked me for help with a mission report, and I know you’ve done these before without any help. So something’s up.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Try again.”

“It’s stupid.”

“Better.”

Illya looks at his desk for a very long time. His ears have turned pink. When he looks up at Napoleon, his cheeks are pink as well, and there’s a sort of shame and dismay in his eyes that Napoleon has never seen before. 

“I didn’t ask. Before, when I was writing these reports. I thought…I was worried that you will think I’m stupid. Because I don’t know these technical words.”

“I’d never think you were stupid. Not for something like that. Maybe for your propensity to put yourself into extreme danger, but never for this. Even I struggle with what these mission reports want from me, and I’m writing them in my first language.”

Illya nods very slightly. He still looks faintly miserable, and Napoleon is determined to get to the bottom of everything and fix it. 

“You can always come to me for help with these reports. Or anything else, actually. If I can help you with anything, ever, just…just let me know.” This is perhaps a bit more than he’d intended to say, a bit too revealing when, all things considered, they haven’t known each other for that long, but it’s true, and he means it. 

Only now it seems like he’s done something wrong, because Illya’s eyes have gotten all glassy and he really hadn’t meant to make things worse but of course he somehow has. 

“Sorry. If that was…too much. I did mean it, though.”

Illya looks rather surprised by this apology. “Why are you sorry? It’s very kind.”

“I just thought…well, you looked upset. You still do, actually. I was worried I’d said something wrong.”

Illya’s cheeks turn pinker, and he looks away. “It’s nothing.”

“You have to quit saying that.”

“Really, though. It is fine.”

Napoleon crosses his arms and waits. 

“Maybe I am sick.” Illya says this very quietly and hesitantly, like he’s not sure of it. 

The entire thing suddenly makes sense. The asking for help, the general look of suffering, the lowered emotional barriers. He feels like a fool for not having put the pieces together sooner. 

Hindsight is 20/20, he reflects, reaching out a hand and laying it against Illya’s forehead. His partner doesn’t so much as flinch.  

The skin beneath his hand is warm to the touch, though not to a dangerous degree. He doesn’t miss the way Illya leans into his palm, just a bit, the way he sinks back into himself when Napoleon pulls his hand away. 

Napoleon wants to prolong this contact that Illya seems to be drawn towards. He wants to sit beside him and wrap an arm around him, let Illya’s forehead come to rest against his shoulder, a little too warm, wants so badly to be that little bit of help, of comfort, that makes the illness more bearable. 

He checks his watch. “Only an hour left of the day. Let’s get out of here. I’ll drive you home.”

He hasn’t been to Illya’s apartment yet. Doesn’t know if he’s allowed. But he wants to help and is willing to fight for it. 

Not that there’s any need. Illya, rather surprisingly, just nods. “Okay.”

Napoleon extends a hand, and it feels like a little victory when his partner takes it and allows himself to be helped to his feet. 

Once standing, he sways for a second, braces a hand against the desk, then inhales deeply. 

“Alright?”

A small nod. 

“Let’s go, then.”

They traipse out of the building without running into anyone else. There’s a nonzero chance Waverly will be mildly peeved tomorrow, but Napoleon will take the fall gladly. 

Just before they reach Napoleon’s car, Illya stops. For a second Napoleon thinks, this is it, he’s going to refuse, but then Illya simply says, “thank you.”

He sounds so sincere that it makes Napoleon’s chest ache, just a little. He wonders when was the last time that Illya was driven home by someone. When he was last really cared for when unwell, and not brushed aside or treated brusquely. 

“Of course,” Napoleon replies. It’s all he can think to say. 

They climb into the car, and Napoleon drives them to Illya’s apartment—he knows where it is, although he’s never been there. What kind of spy would he be, otherwise?

When they get there, he’s again afraid that this is the moment where Illya will have had enough. Where the training and culture of the KGB is going to kick in, and Illya is going to kick him out. 

It never happens. Illya does not say a word when Napoleon comes up with him, when he bustles around the kitchen looking for ingredients for soup, when he brings Illya water and medicine and blankets. 

In fact, the only thing he really says, when Napoleon is standing by the stove and contemplating what the hell kind of soup he can make with the sad array of ingredients he’s found in the cabinets, is exactly the opposite of Napoleon’s worries. 

“Stay?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, and he thinks that he wants this to mean forever.

thanks for reading! with this i am now a whumptober completionist for six years running isn't that insane?? i am so happy i managed to do all this while doing all my other shit too!!!! i had such a good time writing this month and i hope you enjoyed reading, whether you've read all my fics or just this one. i love you guys!!!!

[kwyw]

First—this isn’t directed at anyone on here at all.

So I’ve been thinking and reflecting the past couple of days about everything and how much the silence and associations (which in my opinion, aren’t genuine, just cordial) suck. I’m not a fan of either, especially when ALL of our rights are on the line.

Especially when there’s people who have spent the last few days making it clear (in a mocking way) that they think their rights are different than others’ because of their husband’s status and wealth then playing the “be kind” victim card when they know what the person they support is about.

…BUT ANYWAYS lol…

I remember how Taylor very recently said to let her be clear that she would not speak publicly on something if she thought doing so might provoke those who would want to harm the fans who would come to her shows.

Which kind of tracks with how back during the primaries, she reminded people to vote those who most represent THEM into power. While lots of people were disappointed and upset, she’d echoed that same sentiment in (I think) 2018. It was a very safe, generalized message for people to vote. While voting is important, you don’t *have* to vote along with your family, friends, or “friends” as we saw in the argument between Taylor and her father in Miss Americana.

Again. I’m not a fan of the silence or associations, as they can often lead to wrongful assumptions and insinuate the opposite of you or what/how things really are for you specifically; but I think we have all seen how *some* people have been acting towards others in the fandom and in general who have called out the seemingly obvious over the past year….and that’s just on social media.

Also, I will add this to the walls in the halls of my house in the Folklorian Hills—in my opinion, she endorsed Kamala Harris on her IG post about the European shows.

The Hollywood Reporter tweeted that they’d gotten word from a source close to Taylor that it was a backup singer in that photo, but they also deleted the tweet, which was suspicious; because if it’s a denial and you’re a legit publication, there should’ve been a retraction/correction, not an outright deletion. However, I think if you compare that photo to one of Kamala Harris waving as she walks onto a stage, the similarities are there.

While we can’t ignore or deny that she spoke publicly regarding her endorsement of President Joe Biden in 2020, with all honesty and respect, he is a white male. Kamala Harris is not. The level of backlash would be astronomically higher based off of that alone.

Now, I understand some people may think that’s being dramatic, but I think about the elderly woman and her daughter who were poll workers in Georgia and how they were harassed and treated because of Rudy Giuliani’s lies. How some people said they believed “Betty” was about two girls and were doxxed.

I’m not encouraging anyone to change their views on the situation or dismissing their feelings about it. I’m just simply saying that I looked at the other side of it on my own doing to try and get some understanding of my own and wanted to share my thoughts even though I’m still disappointed.

As I stated earlier, I’m not a fan of the silence or the associations knowing what’s at stake. Though I may not like it and think she could still do the brave thing and (to quote Michelle Obama)—do something, I get it somewhat.

Thank you for this message. There’s some excellent points and a lot to think about!