#i was maybe going to put this quote over a picture of him so i googled his name and the first image result made me literally spit coffee

[skate-the-onion]

"The men are menning" - Mark Hanretty, 2024

[secondpersonpoetry]

Franziska Linkerhand, Brigitte Reimann

[rainbowbutterfrosting]

It's odd that Dream commented "Tommy essentially belittles what I do, saying that what he does with his podcast and book are somehow more valuable or important than the videos that I make"

Because:

1.) The context was not there. The quote was about Dream/Those like him creating a hostile space. What Tommy said was

"You called me a promoter of all my other projects [because it's my job]. "I actually give a shit- I put effort into [the podcast, book, and stand-up comedy]. I've ditched the internet for a year [to focus on comedy] because of people like you who have ruined this space."

Yet dream portrayed it like Tommy was saying Dream's content didn't have value, thus placing the latter in a victim position.

2.) During this clip, Dream shows this. A screenshot of a bunch of his videos from 2 years ago.

The reason why? It looks bad to show his current content since he has absolutely not been uploading (and also not performing as well lately). Showing a few things:

a.) Dream is criticizing promotion despite not even uploading often

b.) Tommy has been actively working on things that require much more coordination and skill sets than Minecraft videos

c.) Tommy has been actively working on things that NEED promotion. Who is gonna trust a random website that says there's a tommyinnit tour? Or a book written by him?? Promotion is inherently good for social media careers

d.) Dream promotes his merch midway through the video. Like what. Pick a lane.

And finally, maybe obviously,

3.) Dream is truly attempting to rotate this around. He just likes spending time with his friends :((( he's a coder so he likes to code :((((

Yeah no, this isn't about your content in general. Otherwise Tommy would be going onto every youtuber's page and giving the same treatment. This is regarding a slow-burn over several years and a final explosion over recent passive aggressive treatment

I'm sure that somewhere, a definition of manipulation and logical fallacies has Dream's picture there

[hottiesforhockey]

Can you write some nsfw with Trevor Zegras using the quote "Who the fuck is that?" 🙏 I was thinking he was looking through his best friends phone to get the photos she took for him the other day so he can make an Instagram post and stumbles upon her spicy pics she posts on her onlyfans (which he didn’t know existed) and he gets turned on which leads to them having sex

"Trevor, stop snooping." You hiss as you try to snatch your phone from his grip, his eyes gleaming mischievously as he continues to swipe through your photos.

"I just want the photo you took at the beach and then I'll give it back." He coos, his swiping continuing while he avoids your reach, leaning as far back on the couch as he can, his back curved over the arm of the chair as you scramble across the couch.

"You're gonna find something you don't want to see if you don't give me the phone back right now." You pause, sitting back on your heels as you watch his fingers pause their movements, his mouth dropping open slightly as his eyes bug out of his head. “I told you, you’d find something you didn’t want to see.” You pout, Trevors body flinging itself into an upright position as he glances between you and the phone. 

“Who the fuck is that?” 

“What?” 

“Who the fuck am I looking at right now, cause I know it sure as hell can’t be you.” He curses, turning the phone towards you quickly showing you a glimpse of the photo of you in your halloween lingerie that you had posted earlier that day. The incredibly revealing ghost face costume had been highly requested by your subscribers, and was too easy to put together. 

“What are you talking about, Trevor?” You sneer, finally able to snatch the phone from his hands as he looks at your dumbfounded. “I’ve told you that I post on onlyfans for extra cash, it can’t be that surprising.” 

“Yeah but if I knew that’s what was hiding under those three XL shirts this whole time I would’ve signed up a lot sooner.” He jokes, his cheeks a blushing red as he coughs a little when he notices you not laughing with him. You watch as he fidgets in his seat, his hand trying to subtly - and failing miserably - to grab the pillow to place over his lap. 

“I cannot believe you right now.” You yell, yanking at the pillow he’s holding onto for dear life. “You are seriously getting turned on right now?” You say, glaring as his arousal is obvious in his pants. 

“I can’t help it - look at your fucking tits in that picture.” He groans slapping his hand on his forehead before dragging it down his face. 

“They really do look good don’t they.” You agree as you glance down at the photo - the underwire of the bra had given your girls a much appreciated hoist, the cleavage in the picture looking almost photoshopped with how perfect it was. 

“I’m never going to be able to look at you again.” Trevor sighs, both his hand in his lap, holding the pillow in place as he shifts his hips slightly, “this is the worst day of my life.” Your smile falters a little as Trevor lets out another low groan, his hips shifting again as he hisses at his movements. 

“Now please if you’ll excuse me, I have to go jerk myself off and maybe sign up for an onlyfans subscription.” Trevor says stretching his arms above his head, bracing to push himself off the couch. 

“Or…” You begin, your teeth catching your bottom lip as your eyes make contact. 

“Don’t you fucking dare.” 

“I can help you out if you want?” You say, adding “the only thing better than jerking yourself off, is me jerking you off.” You watch as Trevors whole body freezes, you shuffle forwards on the couch a little, your hand grabbing the edge of the pillow on Trevor’s lap, his own hand trying to keep it in place. 

“Trust me, Trev.” You whisper, taking advantage of his hand relaxing a little, pulling the pillow away from him and throwing it across the room, the cushion smacking against the wall. “Are you going to let me help?” Trevor nods quickly, his breathing speeding up as you continue to shuffle until your knees press against his, his legs still crossed underneath him. 

“Use your words, please.” You say.

Trevor letting out a soft sigh of “please.” You raise your brow expecting more from the man. “Please touch me.” He whines, your hands already moving towards the waist band of his sweats, slipping inside as you lean forwards, your hair falling over your shoulder as you invade Trevors space. 

“I think I’m gonna cum as soon as you touch me.” Trevor whispers as your hand slips beneath the waistband of his boxers, gently grabbing hold of his throbbing cock, Trevor letting out an almost pained moan. 

“Good to know I have this effect on you, baby.” You whisper, leaning your head down to press a gentle kiss against the underside of his jaw, his head falling back as your hand slowly begins to pump. “You have to relax.” You say as your mouth continues down his neck, your hand moving to collect his droplets of pre cum before continuing its slow and steady pumping, a slick sound filling the almost silent room. 

“This is so fucked up.” Trevor says, his words coming out with a chuckle of disbelief. “My best friend is jerking me off.” He continues. 

“If you’re a good boy we could do so much more.” You tease, eyes widening in surprise at the buck of Trevors hips, a sly grin growing on your face as you pull away from his neck to look down at him. “Trevor, do you have a praise kink?” You bite down on your lip to stop the small laugh bubbling in your chest. 

This was definitely not expected. 

“Shut up.” 

“You like being my good boy.” You try again, the laugh escaping you as he bucks again, letting out a hiss as your hand squeezes him. 

“We need more lube.” He notes, his eyes squeezed shut, his jaw clenched as hard as it can. 

“Do you want me to spit on it?” You joke, letting out a surprised yelp when Trevors hand grips your wrist, holding your hand in place as he thrusts his hips haphazardly, the warm liquid spilling onto your hand trapped in his pants. 

“Did you just…” You watch as he pants, his hips finally stopping their movements, his hold on your wrist relaxing as he lets out an annoyed whimper. 

“Yep.” He admits, his eyes slowly opening as he hesitantly glances up at you, “It’s your fucking fault, when the fuck did you learn to talk like that?” 

“Oh, trust me… There’s a lot more where that comes from.” You smile, leaning towards him, your lips ghosting over his ear as you add, “would you like show me how a good boy says thank you.” Trevors whole body shivering as you pull away, a moment of hesitation before he pounces tackling you to the couch. 

“I’ll show you exactly how I say thank you.” 

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 24

part 1 | part 23 | ao3

cw: alcohol, throwing up, brief reference to canonical character death

"Oh, my god!" Robin barks, nearly throwing herself off-balance again with the force of her laugh. "This is too good, man. You truly cannot escape your babysitting duties."

"Can I help you?" Max seethes.

Help him? Help him? "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" She gestures to the guy she's holding onto, some fluffy-haired kid with a cut-off vest covered in safety pins that Steve sort of vaguely recognizes as one of Eddie's friends. Oh, shit. Is Eddie here finally? Has he seen him?

"Wait, where's Lucas?" Steve asks.

"Who cares?" she bites back.

The guy gives a nervous chuckle and loosens his grip on her waist. "Uh-h. Did you say babysitter?"

"He's not actually, Jesus. I'm fourteen; I don't need a babysitter. And he was just leaving, anyway, right?"

Her glare feels like a slap. Girl's got daggers in her eyes, holy shit. It's like she's hoping some of El's powers magically transferred to her; like she's picturing him flying ten feet into the air and landing with a splat on the far side of the concrete, and he doesn't need this. He did not come out tonight to be bullied by a teenager. "Okay, that's it, I'm taking—"

"—me to the punch bowl!" Robin interrupts, putting her hands on Steve's chest to stop him from grabbing Max and hauling her back to the car.

"Robin, what—?"

"Yep!" She shoves him hard, pushing him to the edge of the dance floor. "Silly me, just dying of thirst, ha ha. Okay, cool, see you both later!"

—

"What the hell was that?" Steve demands when they're safely on the far side of the pavilion.

"An intervention."

Oh, my god. May he never hear the word 'intervention' again in his life.

"Un-ruffle your Mother Hen feathers for two seconds and think, would you? One: it would look really, really, seriously weird for you to be seen dragging a dead jock's kid sister kicking and screaming to your car."

A dead jock’s kid sister. Jesus, tipsy Robin has no tact.

"Two: you said we were going to go out and have fun and get, and I quote, 'very drunk.' Take your babysitter hat off for one night. She's a high schooler, and this is a high school party."

"Yeah, I know," he sulks. Doesn't need the reminder that he's technically past the age limit.

"Okay, so then let her have fun! It's not like you weren't out drinking and smoking by her age."

'I'm always so right about everything. I'm, like, cosmically correct.' Goddammit. Steve needs another drink. "I just don't want her to do anything dumb and get hurt."

"She won't. We can just, like, keep an eye on her from a distance, right? Let her come to us if she needs anything."

"So we should just act like your parents?" Steve snorts.

"My parents are amazing, thank you!"

"Your mom offered me mushroom tea once."

"Like I said: amazing."

Steve huffs a laugh, flips his hair out of his eyes and snags a handful of tortilla chips. "Okay," he says around a crunchy bite, "so what's the third thing?"

"Third thing?" Robin asks. She’s not even looking at him anymore, her eyes eager and distracted as she scans the crowd.

"You're biting your lip weird, there's clearly a third thing."

She turns to him, and the smile springs free from its containment, spreading all over her flushed, ecstatic face. "Vickie just showed up."

—

Steve’s hammered.

Whoops.

Didn’t mean to do it; feels a little bad about it as he tips his head up to the sky and all the stars go raining in bright streaks across his vision. Reminds him of the ceiling at Starcourt, nauseous and spinning under a swirl of bright fluorescence. He hopes Rob’s flirting is going well.

He meant to get politely drunk.

A socially appropriate amount.

But then Robin ran off to flirt with Vickie, and Steve was doing his best to just lay low, steer clear of Max and maybe find a way to casually run into Eddie if he could find him, when he spotted the girl he went on that disaster of a date with instead and realized his options were either: stay there by the beer coolers while she came over with her new date and subjected him to the most painful small talk of his life, or retreat to the dark edges of the party with as much booze as he could carry, so.

He's slumped on top of a picnic bench downwind of the bonfire, bad ear ringing, belly full to bursting, trying to remember when one beer became… more than one beer.

Five?

Six, maybe?

Fuck.

“‘M gonna puke,” he confesses to the splintered wood beneath his feet; to the pine bough overhead, the smoky fire at his back.

“Wow,” someone says, an amused lilt to their tone, and Steve knows that voice, he—

Oh, no.

Ohhhh, no.

Now? Really?

Steve whips his head around, opens his mouth to ask ‘Eddie?’ and barfs all over his shoes.

—

part 25

tag list part 1 below the cut, let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)

@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @aliea82 @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bookbinderbitch @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cuips-not-cute @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @kingelyx @lifeisacrisis @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @phoenixtheone @questionablequeeries @runninriot

[collapseintonever]

mcr at project revolution in charlotte, nc. august 8 2007. photos by buttertooth on livejournal. picture commentary under the cut

more concert pics here

pic 2:

When MCR first came out onstage, Gerard strutted on like he was all badass with a black bandana on his face. For some reason, he reminded me of an anime cartoon character when he was wearing that. Anyway, the decision to wear the bandana came back to bite him in the ass later because he couldn't get it to untie from his neck when he realized how ridiculously fucking hot it was out there. I didn't realize it was still around his neck but he made a comment about it between songs when he was trying to catch his breath. Haha. Oh well, everything can't always go perfectly, right?

Anyway, since the picture of him (that I tried to take) with the bandana turned out all blurry and awful, here is a picture of Gerard just after he took it off. Might I point out how foxy his hair looks. Hooray for Gerard not looking like a mad scientist when I saw them perform!

Gerard made multiple comments on the heat, but you know what? He sort of deserved being hot since he was out there in his JACKET! It's a wonder he didn't pass out. He did spend a lot of the time lying on the stage or sitting. Early in their set (maybe three or so songs in?) he said something to the effect of (this is NOT a direct quote, just a paraphrase) "I was going to say something later about guys taking their shirts off, but, fuck it, it's too hot. Go ahead and take them off now." Then when they got to "Prison" he said it again about just the guys taking off their shirts and that he didn't care what size you are, you're still attractive. Gotta love Gerard and how he tries to make the fans feel good about themselves. I think he was just trying to charm the guys out of their clothes, though, really. He stressed that only the guys should take their shirts off and swing them around their heads. I think some guy threw his shirt up there and he picked it up and swung it around, but it could've been a rag or something. It was a black cloth of some kind, anyway. And of course, someone threw the obligatory feather boa up there, and Gerard put it on. I swear, Gerard must be crazy because he's in a jacket, singing his lungs out, on a stage with PYRO in the 103-degree heat for fuck's sake and he puts one of those itchy feather boas on.

pic 3 & 4: Unfortunately, these were the only two pics that had Ray in them since he stayed wayyyyy over on his side and I couldn't see him. But his playing and singing was amazing as usual!

pic 5: Right before the pyro came on Gerard said "Shit!" which I took to mean that he knew it was about to happen and he didn't want to feel the heat. I could be wrong, but that's what it seemed like.

pic 6: Towards the end of the concert Gerard said (again just a paraphrase because i didn't get it all, unfortunately!) that he was sweaty and nasty and everyone should "make some noise" because of it. I love MCR and all of the band members, genuinely I do, but if Gerard didn't take a shower after that concert, he is officially a nasty motherfucker. :P

Frank was a little more sensible with his attire, since he was wearing a sleeveless shirt. He flopped down at one point and it just looked like he was hating the heat.

On the second song (which I managed to get video of! Woot Woot!) Frank's guitar string broke (I think that's what inspired his fit of rage) so he smashed up his guitar. Then he picked up the one with the zombie on it and started playing again. The picture above came after he smashed up the first guitar.

pic 7: When he came down to my end of the stage, I could see that Gerard had something written on his neck again. I think it said "Truth" but it could just as well have said "Truce" because I could only see the first three letters. I don't know why it would say "Truce," but it could've (ETA: I read a review somewhere that it did indeed say "Truth". Stil havent seen any pics of it though). I tried to get a picture of his neck, but it came out blurry. Boo! Hiss! If anyone else has proof of what it said, I'd love to see the photo.

pic 8-10: And for those of you out there wondering, there was some mild Frank/Gerard action going on. By the time it happened, I had already used up all my video space and could only take photos. But the good news is that my camera has a photo burst option which lets you take three photos in a row. They're not the best photos ever, but I did get the shots when Frank walked past Gerard and grabbed Gerard's crotch. And I got Gerard's reaction to it. It happened really quickly so it was easy to miss.

pic 11: Oh and about halfway through, Frank put either a shirt over his head (one of the one's that got thrown onstage when Gerard told the guys in the audience to take their shirts off), presumably to mop up the sweat, but maybe he just wanted to be a weirdo. In the first photo it looks like Frank is smelling his armpits but really he's trying to wrap the cloth around his head.

pic 12-14: He played with the cloth over his head for most of the song.

pic 15: Gerard singing and Bob drumming away…

pic 16: Just Gerard…

pic 17-18: Frank taking a sip of water in the dark��� …then spitting it on the audience. It didn't land on me. Not to sound horridly grungy or anything, but I kinda wished the water would've landed on me because I would've welcomed anything that would help cool me off at that point.

pic 19: Frank and Matt in the same stance. And yes, Matt, Frank does have a nice ass.

pic 20: Gerard pointing….

pic 21: And now for a little Matt Cortez: Gerard said he's got "arms of steel" and he ain't lyin'…

pic 22: Matt Cortez, being awesome. Gerard even gave a shout out to him and walked by and ruffled his hair…

pic 24: Matt's back…

pic 25: Matt's so cool, you can see through him!

[chaoticbardlady99]

Hello again! I’m so glad my prompt inspired you! I really enjoyed the first part of “Admiring from Afar” and I look forward to seeing what happens next! 😊

Admiring from Afar Pt 2 (Astarion x GN! Reader)

Author note: Thank you so much anon! I am so glad you enjoyed it! I hope everyone likes this part as much as the last one- I wasn't expecting the last one to get so many notes! Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, and shared Part 1- it truly means the world to me!!!

Tag-list: @hyperfixationwhore, @ophelias-flowerss, @support-local-bands, @kahelis

CW: Broken bones and reparing them, minor violence, angst (?)

Picture belongs to silverformymonsters on Tumblr.

*I have only proof read this once.

If you missed part one- find the link below:

Here's the link you little weirdo

Your screams of pain rattle through camp for what feels like hours. Halsin had told everyone that resetting your bones and putting them together again would not be a pleasant or easy process. Astarion is pacing outside his tent- fists clenching and unclenching as he watches Wyll talk to Karlach by the fire.

Shadowheart and Halsin had kicked Astarion out of your tent an hour ago when they began setting your compound fracture- you had woken up with your mouth open in a silent scream and tears pouring down your face. Astarion regrets threatening Halsin’s life- he wants to be in there with you. He knows he would still feel helpless, but at least he could try to comfort you. It would be more than what Wyll is doing anyway.

 Astarion’s head snaps towards the campfire when Wyll lets out a bellowing laugh at something Karlach has said. Astarion walks up to Wyll and Karlach mindlessly- only one goal in mind.

 Karlach notices him and gives him a sad smile, “Hey fangs-”

  Karlach’s sentence starts as fast as it stops.

 Astarion’s fist collides with Wyll’s face- making the other man fall flat on his back from the force of the punch. Astarion is feeling borderline feral and based on the fearful, angry look in Wyll’s good eye, Wyll knows he is about to snap too.

  Astarion goes to punch him again, but is abruptly pulled backwards by Karlach.

 “Wow there,” Karlach says with a nervous chuckle, “I know tensions are high right now- but I’m going to have to call a party foul on you, Fangs.” 

 “Let me continue spoiling the party then,” he says through clenched teeth.

  Wyll stands back up and holds the tip of his short sword to Astarion’s throat.

"Hells Wyll, is that really necessary," Karlach groans.

Wyll ignores her- his eyes peering menacingly back into Astarion's.

  “What in the hells did I even do to you, Spawn?” Wyll asks hotly, fire burning behind his eyes.

 “Me!?” Astarion scoffs,” It’s what you didn’t do for Tav! Do you make a point of letting every person you bed get nearly slaughtered, almighty Blade of Frontiers?”

 Wyll’s anger turns to confusion and then his face lights up with clarity.

 “Astarion,” Wyll says slowly, “I didn’t bed Tav. In fact, they rejected me because, and I quote, ‘I really like Astarion and I’m not looking elsewhere.’” 

   Astarion feels all the strength and anger leave his body after Wyll’s statement. Karlach lets him go and he wordlessy walks back to his tent. 

  He sits down amongst the pile of pillows and pulls out your broken glasses from his pocket. He thumbs the crooked metal as he starts to connect the dots. 

  He had only seen the kiss, but he hadn’t stayed for the aftermath of the kiss. If he had just waited five more seconds, maybe, you wouldn’t be in so much pain right now. His jealousy and insecurities had won out over everything the two of you had together.

He isn’t just a body to you- someone to appease your sexual appetite while you romance every person in camp.

You weren’t upset because you had been caught.

 You had genuinely been on the verge of tears due to him unceremoniously dumping you. Astarion didn’t even give you a chance to speak-to defend yourself. Instead, he specifically stole the words right out of your mouth which was something he makes a point of not doing. He packed up all of your belongings faster than he’s ever done anything before. He told you to leave. Leave- in the coldest voice he could have used. He rendered you heartbroken and speechless all in one conversation. Right after you had so sweetly called him “Star” and just rejected a man who was a far more appropriate option for you than him.

  Astarion had assumed you were as tired as you were because you had stayed up all night with Wyll. He buries his face in his hands as more realizations come to the forefront of his mind. 

  You were tired because you had spent the whole night terrified, alone, and in the cold. Heartbroken and Homesick in that horrible tent of yours that you never ended up replacing because you didn’t have to. Would never need to again. 

  He was your protector, your piece of happiness in this scary place, and he turned on you. 

  Astarion begins to feel ill and tears prick his eyes as another tearful scream rips through the air. He had inadvertently left you out for the slaughter and your misery right now is his fault alone. 

  A knock on the wood of his tent jolts him from his thoughts. He gets up and is shocked to see Karlach standing at the entrance of his tent. Astarion tries to hide the nervousness he’s feeling- he really is hoping that punch didn’t earn him a stake.

 “Don’t look so nervous Fangs,” she offers him an easy smile,” I just came to check on you. I know you guys are close and that was a hell of a shiner you left on Wyll.”

  Astarion looks away from Karlach’s friendly face and tries to blink away the tears threatening to spill down his face.

 “I appreciate you checking in one me, but I can assure you that-”

 “You’re fine? That you’re not suffering? Cause I sure am! Tav is like family to me and I regret not rushing over to help them” Karlach pauses and when he doesn’t say anything, she continues, “It’s okay if you aren’t okay. It’s not some secret that you are in love with Tav or they you. We all can see how much you love each other.”

   “In love?” Astarion whispers

 Lae’zel pipes up from next door, “It’s disgustingly clear to everyone but you. You even bed them like you are in love with them. You humans have strange mating rituals. Added note- please keep it down. Some of us sleep.”

  Astarion stares at Lae’zel blankly- not sure what he’s supposed to take from that statement as Lae’zel turns to go to bed. Karlach coughs uncomfortably and chuckles.

   “After the tiefling party,” she smiles ruefully, "they showed me that necklace they made for you and I knew they were smitten.”

  Astarion stares at Karlach in confusion and Karlach’s eyes go wide with realization.

  “What Necklace?”

 “Necklace? Hm weird Astarion, why are you so hyperficated on necklaces SHEEESHH. If you want a necklace so bad, just go buy one. Better yet I’ll buy one for you. No, SIX!” 

   Astarion goes to protest when Karlach interrupts him again.

 “Anyway, I know you have their glasses and I was thinking about taking them to Dammon and seeing if he can fix them. I’ll get that necklace you are so worried about while I’m there too.”

  He rolls his eyes at the tiefling- it’s obvious that she is not willing to elaborate about the necklace and he’s sure this is news that he’d much rather hear from you anyway. Also, Astarion is well aware of Karlach’s massive, horny (She asked him for advice once, never again) crush on the blacksmith and he knows that she will take every opportunity she can to see him. The fact that she also gets to help you at the same time is probably a bonus for her. Astarion hands Karlach the glasses after making her promise to keep them safe. 

   Astarion sighs before making the trek over to your tent- each step feeling heavier than the other.  Shadowheart steps out of your tent right as he’s about to knock on the wooden beams that hold up your mediocre hovel. 

  “They are asking for you,” she says tiredly.

  “Shadowheart,” he pauses, “ I owe you one for helping them and being patient with… me when I yelled at you and Halsin before.”

  “Huh, that sounded dangerously close to a ‘Thank you’ and an ‘I’m sorry’, Astarion,” Shadowheart teases as she walks by him, “love has made you soft.”

  There’s that word again. Maybe that is what he’s been feeling towards you this whole time, but he can’t be for sure. He would have to explore these feelings later when he is less stressed, tired, and desperate to be near you. 

  He crawls into your dimly lit tent and you are meekly sitting upright, looking at him expectantly. He immediately sits down in front of you and gently cups your face in his hands. He leaves a sweet kiss on your forehead, then he kisses your lips.

Astarion takes his time kissing you, pulling you into his lap so that he can support your weak, healing body. Warm tears are streaming down your checks by the time he pulls away. You let out a hiccup as you go to speak- effectively surprising both of you. Astarion chuckles as he traces circles with his fingers on your back.

  “Yo-uu like me aga-in?” you hiccup between tears.

   Well that broke him.

  “Darling, I never stopped,” he states matter-of-factly while he wipes away your tears.

 “Then why?” 

  Astarion takes a deep breath before starting.

  “I saw Wyll kiss you, but I didn’t stay to get the whole picture,” his voice coming out sheepishly, “I didn’t think I was capable of experiencing so many uncomfortable feelings at one time; Well, until that happened.”

  Astarion feels his own tears begin to go down his cheeks, “I didn’t want you to hurt me so I hurt you first. I am so sorry, my Love. I understand if you wish for me to go.” 

    Your hands make their way into his hair, gently detangling it and then you move to his tear stained face and kiss the tears away. Lovingly, you use your hands to bring his eyes to yours and Astarion leans into your touch. 

  “It’s okay my Star, I understand. However, I will never forgive you if you leave me.," you pause," Again.”

      He barks out a laugh, “then I guess I can never leave your side?”

   “Silvanus, no,” you wrinkle your nose in the most endearing way, “I have no desire to have the ever loving crap kicked out of me again.”

 “And I share that sentiment- I would prefer you never have the ‘ever loving crap kicked out’ of you again.”

  You slap his arm softly at his mpression of you and you erupt in giggles. Astarion can’t help but smile up at you. The warmth in his chest is absolutely undeniable. You, the bewitchingly good-natured thing that you are, have taken up all the space in his cold, dead heart. You have stood by him through everything and now you have forgiven him as easily as you had walked away from him when he told you to. He doesn’t deserve someone as good as you. As incredible as you. 

  Astarion knows in his gut that he is going to have to talk to you about his initial intentions, then he will give you his feelings served up on a silver platter. If you reject him, he definitely deserves it. But by the Gods does he want you to return his feelings and be able to look past his previous motives.

  For now though, he’s going to pretend like none of that is around the corner. He'll pretend that he does deserve this- deserve you.

  Astarion is going to just let himself bask in your grandeur and shower you with all the affections his actions had stolen from you both over the last 24 hours. 

  You are smiling at him and then a flash of remembrance crosses your face- prompting you to pop up out of his lap and ungracefully crawl towards your pack. Astarion watches you with curiosity and amusement as you throw items out of the bag, cursing, and grumbling “whereeee areee youuuuu????” 

          ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

  You look back at him awkwardly, “The whole not having my glasses thing is a real bummer, but I promise you that this neuroticism has purpose.” 

 “Oh don’t worry about that Darling, if your neuroticism hasn’t scared me off yet, it certainly won’t now.”

 You roll your eyes at him and return to digging through your pack until you feel the pouch at the very bottom of the bag.  With an “Aha!” you twist around and crawl back to Astarion and sit in front of him(in criss-cross applesauce obviously). Astarion pouts as you push his arms away when he tries to pull you back on to his lap. 

  “I will sit on your lap all night and never leave if that is what you desire, but I insist that you must open this first.” 

 You hand him the black pouch with the necklace inside. You are practically bouncing in anticipation as he unfolds the silk handkerchief, revealing the necklace. 

  Astarion looks up at you with an unreadable expression (you literally can't fucking see) and then down at the necklace. You anxiously play with your hands.

  “It’s a- uh, well. You had been upset about Gale and the invisibility necklace so I made you one out of Oxen bone,” you ramble, “I know it’s not really your style, but I tried to make it a little bit shiny. It allows you to become invisible- I tested it out myself. Oh and I picked Cadaith for the design because the rune’s meaning reminds me of you- grace, power, and music of the stars….”

  You are blue in the face from your spiel and Astarion still hasn’t looked up from the necklace.

  Gods he must really hate it. 

   Astarion clears his throat and wipes his eyes. He grabs one of your hands, gently sliding his thumb over your knuckles before planting a soft kiss on each of them.

 “This is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me,” he puts the necklace on and then continues, “thank you my love, it’s the most wonderful thing I own.”

   You beam and lean forward to leave a chaste kiss on his lips, due to not having your glasses, you miss abysmally and kiss his nose- both of you chuckling as he guides your lips to his. As you pull back, a gust of bone chilling wind comes in through one of the holes in your tarp. You shiver involuntarily and  Astarion glares at you, unamused, as you scratch the back of your head while adorning an awkward smile.

 “Speaking of things that I own,” Astarion’s now teasing grin giving away his irritated facade, “I would be honored if you would move back into my tent with me.” 

  You feel your grin stretch from ear to ear and you quickly roll up your bed roll. You follow Astarion out of your tent and take his hand when he offers it to you. You walk with him across the clearing- Karlach whoops, whistles, and cheers as you walk by the fire. You stifle your laughter as Astarion pulls you into his tent. He grabs your bedroll and throws it to the side.

Astarion lifts you up and puts you lying flat on his bed roll. Astarion kisses you deeply, coaxing a moan from your lips. He pulls back and looks at you- you huff in frustration. Astarion begins to kiss along your jawline and down your neck. You can see his eyes to some extent, but the rest of him is a no go.

 “You didn’t happen to recover my glasses did you?”

You feel Astarion freeze before slowly bringing his face back up to yours.

  “Don’t worry my dear, it’s already being taken care of," he says, then whispers, "by Dammon.”

  Your stomach drops all the way to your ass. Your ears grow hot with rage and Astarion begins to kiss your face relentlessly- trying to unfurl the fury settling into your features. You can tell he is trying to hold back his laughter at your painfully cute, but angry expression.

 “What do you mean the blacksmith is taking care of my glasses?”

[aramynx]

IZUKU MIDORIYA HEADCANONS...

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

ꕥ baby, my love, sweetie

ꕥ remembers everything- and i mean everything you’ve ever said to him

ꕥ he can quote word for word what you said to him on your first date actually

ꕥ he remembers off the top of his head what you like- which snacks are your favourite, which flavour and brand of ice cream you like, where you are in the show you’ve been watching recently

ꕥ he still gets nervous and giddy around you even after you’ve been together for a while- surprise kisses turn him into a flustered mess when he really isn’t expecting them

ꕥ “oh! hi sweetie, i didn’t see you there- what’s all this for?”

ꕥ loves to ramble about things to you but he does worry that it bores you or freaks you out sometimes so he tries not to carry on for too long

ꕥ when you tell him you love his rambles he just about explodes- he falls in love with you all over again

ꕥ chronically late coming home- whether it’s because he was stopped by a fan, or he needed to go grab some stuff from a store, or if he saw a new limited edition all might figurine…

ꕥ you’re so used to it that you always expect him to get back 30 minutes later than he actually should

ꕥ even though it’s become a routine, he still apologises for coming home late

ꕥ “hey baby! I’m so sorry i’m late home again- they just released a new Kamino All Might figurine!”

ꕥ speaking of figurines, he has a room dedicated to them- and he keeps them in pristine condition

ꕥ he does get nervous about you-or anyone- going in there, but he trusts that you’d never hurt his All Might collection- it’s important to him!

ꕥ you can not sleep around this man- he makes a lot of noise even when he’s trying to be quiet.

ꕥ he’ll sit in bed with an open notebook, scribbling away as he plans things out or puts new information into his hero book

ꕥ “so, if we do… in the morning and then wait… group d arrives in the afternoon, that gives us about 4 hours of rest time between missions… not enough backup… then when the sun starts setting we’re going to head towards… and everyone can take shifts… not secure enough… maybe more to the west… what would all might say? … oh… yeah i see it now… i know what we need…”

ꕥ sometimes he stays up into the early hours of the morning just muttering and writing while you sleep beside him

ꕥ he feels really bad if he wakes you up

ꕥ “oh! i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to wake you, sweetie… i get it, sorry for being so loud- i’ll come to sleep now too okay?”

ꕥ he likes to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you into him to cuddle- he’s still pretty short so he snuggles his face into the warmth of your back

ꕥ over-plans for dates, tries to cram too many things into your dates on his days off and you never end up doing half of them

ꕥ you appreciate the sentiment though!

ꕥ he gives you a lot of flowers- he’ll buy you new ones whenever he sees any in the store, usually accompanied by a note to remind you how much he loves you

ꕥ He was so nervous to bring you home when you started your relationship- more than you were. He just didn’t really know what to expect

ꕥ Inko loved you immediately! She says you’re an amazing person for Izuku and that you compliment each other well.

ꕥ You regularly go to her apartment for dinner- usually every Tuesday night, it’s something you all look forward to doing!

ꕥ Izuku loves that you get along with his mother, it makes him so happy that she loves you as much as he does.

ꕥ you swear he has a different picture of the two of you as his wallpaper every time you look at his phone

ꕥ he likes to have lots of photos of you- he makes sure to take at least one per date!

[astrronomemes]

THE SHINING: STARTERS

a collection of quotes, phrases, and sayings from the 1980 film, The Shining. change & alter as needed.

"Well, I'm looking for a change."

"That is quite a story."

"Obviously, some people can be put off by the idea of staying alone in a place where something like that actually happened."

"Look, I'm at [place], and I still have an awful lot to go through. I don't think I can get home before nine or ten."

"It's a beautiful place. You and [name] are gonna love it."

"This whole place is such an enormous maze, I feel like I'll have to leave a trail of breadcrumbs every time I come in."

"By five o'clock tonight, you'll never know anybody was ever here."

"You probably thought you was the only one. But there are other folks, though mostly they don't know it, or don't believe it."

"You ain't got no business going in there, anyway, so stay out! You understand? Stay out!"

"I love it. I really do. I've never been this happy or comfortable anywhere."

"I'm not being grouchy. I just want to finish my work."

"When I'm in here, that means I'm working. That means don't come in. Now, do you think you can handle that?"

"It's just like pictures in a book, [name]. It isn't real."

"I wish we could stay here forever and ever and ever."

"I love you, [name]. I love you more than anything else in the whole world, and I'd never do anything to hurt you. Never."

"I had the most terrible nightmare I've ever had. It's the most horrible dream I've ever had."

"Oh, my god! [Name], what happened to your neck?"

"God, I'd give anything for a drink — my goddamn soul, just for a glass of beer."

"I like you, [name]. I've always liked you. You were always the best of them."

"Things could be better, [name]. Things could be a whole lot better."

"I did hurt him once, okay? It was an accident! Completely unintentional! It could've happened to anybody!"

"Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"No, it's the truth, really! I swear it!"

"It is so fucking typical of you to create a problem like this when I finally have the chance to accomplish something!"

"[Name], I have let you fuck up my life so far, but I'm not going to let you fuck this up!"

"I'm the kind of man likes to know who's buying their drinks, [name]."

"Come on, hon, wake up. You just had a bad dream. Everything is okay."

"I think we should discuss what should be done with him. What should be done with him?"

"You think maybe he should be taken to a doctor?"

"Has it ever occurred to you what would happen to my future if I were to fail to live up to my responsibilities? Has it ever occurred to you? Has it?!"

"You've had your whole fucking life to think things over! What good is a few more minutes going to do you now?"

"I said I'm not going to hurt you... I'm just going to bash your brains in! I'm going to bash them right the fuck in!"

"[Name], listen. Let me out of here, and I'll forget the whole goddamn thing. It'll be just like nothing ever happened."

"No need to rub it in, [name]. I'll deal with that situation as soon as I get out of here."

"Your heart is not in this. You haven't the belly for it."

"I fear that you will have to deal with this matter in the harshest possible way, [name]. I fear that is the only thing to do."

[moonsaver]

hihi!! could I req some platonic aventurine hcs with a teen!reader?

Fun !

--

He's, in possibly no better words, your ride or die best friend.

I can just imagine him coming to pick you up wherever you live with a Regina George attitude like, "get in loser we're going shopping" (affectionate)

He's very fond of you! Loves having just a buddy around, even tries teaching you some card and coin tricks, giggles sneakily with you in huge casinos as he places bets and shamelessly shows you how he's cheating and turning the game to his favor. He's not sure whether or not he wants you to help him cheat, though. That could spell trouble for you..

Such a Annoying Big Brother vibe, but he's so annoyingly affectionate too. Even platonically, he's literally all over you. Sometimes to embarass you, he acts like some kind of a mother hen, or says embarassing things out loud like "mom said get back before 8 PM for bedtime!" In front of all your friends.

As I said, Aventurine is annoying, even while platonically affectionate. If you're shorter than him, he uses you as an elbow rest, and smugly smiles at you. If you're taller than him, tells you that you're growing too fast and need to slow down, and that you can't have any more milk. Constantly ruffles your hair for fun, pinches your cheeks like an asian aunt, kisses your forehead sloppily and enjoys the cringe on your face when you wipe your forehead.

As I mentioned, he's an absolute asian aunt to you. Makes you sit down and feeds you too much, tells you "kids like you need a balanced diet", obviously quoting someone, as he shoves another platter of whatever he thought was healthy towards you. If you ever find him at a bar, he's the one scolding you as if he wasn't making bets on his life in there. If he can't leave, makes you sit near him and tells the bartender you can't have anything alcoholic, and maybe you should have a glass of milk like all the other kiddos drink. The bartender gives you soda and Aventurine probably drinks half of it anyway.

If anyone's picking on you.. it's alright! Just fun and games, this is how things work in friendships. He'll scare them enough to keep them silent, though! Probably looms around you threateningly with hired bodyguards just to scare them into silence. If you get physically bullied, he's not having it at all. When he finds out,his smug smile drops for a moment, and returns again, but you can tell something's off. He suggests paying back tenfold. Whatever happens next? They had it coming, he tells you.

Loves shopping with you. Purposefully picks out ugly clothing and tells you "you'd look GREAT in this!" And snickers. You have to pick out something equally ugly and take pictures. Half of your shopping is general clothing and the other half are just horrendous clothing you both decided to buy as momentos. Sometimes, when both of you have sleepovers, you put on a diy fashion show and act like divas in these ugly clothes, dying laughing from just how clashing and horrid it looks.

Gets matching sunglasses with you! Maybe he'll customize the shade to match your complexion, but it's definitely matching with his.

Worried that people might come after you. Deep down he's afraid of losing you. After some time you become like family to him. He doesn't have a lot to his name, and could afford to lose everything. But now that you're there, he worries about it. Sometimes, overthinking leads to other worries that you might leave him, cut him off, or not find him "fun" anymore. But all that ends up being pushed to the back of his mind, and he smiles again at you, deciding it's not the time to worry about something like that.

[blitzwhore]

Hello! I have questions. Do you think Blitzo ... knows about Stolas's ACTUAL relationship dynamic with Stella? I mean, he probably has an inkling that Stolas's married life was not happy, but I wonder if he knew how much of a bitch she truly was, like she's an actual danger to him (Striker deal). I keep thinking of a quote from a site called "A Softer World" and one of them [Homewrecker, noun. Someone who frees an injured animal from a trap. (Go! Run! You're free!)] and it actually fits Blitzo. Just can't wait for Via and that gremlin lizard to have that revelation. It was really recently in time for him.

Also, just a fun thought, I know some people have this idea of Stolas's mom being a nice lady that's either dead or hiding away but I think it'd be interesting if this woman is someone who's the opposite of Stolas with Via, that she resents the baby, just BOOKED it as soon as it arrives, maybe not even waiting for it to hatch. Would also be interesting if she had bluntly told Stolas that he's just a tool in his marriage just as she was she was and to just accept his fate, not being mean just stating facts but it still crushes him hard, in the first and last meeting Could be one of the factors that pushes Stolas to be more truthful to Via about the actual family life without sugarcoating or being avoidant.

Just spitting out thoughts. Have a good month come to you!

Hi! I like answering questions 😂 I absolutely do not think Blitz knows what Stolas and Stella's dynamics were like. Firstly because until The Full Moon and Apology Tour, Blitz did not know Stolas was capable of being emotionally hurt. The face he puts at the end of Full Moon when he sees Stolas cry is a mirror of his face when he said "he can get hurt?" in Western Energy. He's having that realisation all over again—except for emotional pain this time. And the idea that Stolas can suffer emotionally is cemented when he hears Stolas sing All 2 U, and hears Stolas' drunken ramble that he just wants to be held and wanted. So Blitz definitely didn't know Stella had abused Stolas before these episodes, and I very much doubt Stolas has told him in the 3-ish weeks they've been living together since the trial.

There's also the fact that Moxxie stated in the trial that they don't know who wanted Stolas dead. They have absolutely no clue it was his own (ex-)wife who wanted to kill him, and the show made sure to let us know. And I think this is going to come back later on in the show. I think them (or at least Blitz) finding out it was Stella who hired Striker is going to be a Big Deal.

And then there's the (maybe less relevant, but still important in my personal opinion) fact that Blitz and Stella have never interacted or been together on screen (except for the "sorry I fucked your husband" line). Every time in the last 2 episodes that Blitz was faced by someone wanting to hurt him and Stolas, that someone was Andrealphus. Stella was very pointedly Not There. And, personally, I think this is because Blitz meeting her and seeing what she's like is going to be A Thing. I think it'll put so many things into perspective for him, and it'll make him want to defend and care for Stolas and Octavia even more fiercely than he already does.

(I also have this headcanon that Blitz will someday verbally defend Stolas from Stella, becoming the first person to ever do so. And I just love picturing Blitz just roasting the fuck out of her. "Wow, it's no wonder Stolas was so desperate for it, you couldn't make anyone cum if you tried").

Love the idea of Stolas' biological mother just ditching as soon as his egg was laid! I hadn't thought about it, but it really would make sense, and would explain why he kept the circumstances of Via's conception from her so she wouldn't feel guilty for Stolas (which obviously backfired).

Great thoughts all around!

[loganjameshowlett]

SAME AS IT EVER WAS

01: AND YOU MAY ASK YOURSELF (WELL, HOW DID I GET HERE?)

pairing: peter parker/mutant!reader summary: you tutor peter parker. you dodge a robbery. you get run over and are somehow unhurt. all in a day's work, i guess. word count: 4.1k+

series masterlist | next installment

You were beginning to regret promising your tutoring services to Professor Sorensen. 

The early morning sky was pink outside the library’s picture windows, and you stared wistfully as you spread your things out across one of the empty tables, wishing that you were still in bed. But Sorensen was maybe your favorite professor ever, and when she stopped you after class last week and asked you to tutor for the general education English classes in exchange for a meager pay and some extra points on your final essay, you didn’t have the heart to tell her no. 

You couldn’t imagine, though, what kind of linguistically-inept STEM major would be desperate enough for tutoring to schedule an appointment with you at eight o’clock on a Wednesday morning. You kind of wanted to beat them over the head with your laptop. Instead, you took a searing gulp of your coffee and opened your current required reading for Sorensen’s class. If you were going to be up this early, you might as well make some use of the time beyond tutoring. 

“Excuse me,” a voice calling your name cut through the otherwise silent main reading room of the library a few minutes later, and you looked up to find a tall boy with messy brown hair standing at the other side of your table. He had a frayed backpack slung over one shoulder, and a look of exhaustion in his brown eyes that was very familiar to you. “Am I in the right place for Professor Sorensen’s English tutoring?”

“Uh, yeah,” you nodded, shutting your book and briefly glancing down at the email from Sorensen open on your laptop to catch his name. “Peter Parker?” 

“That’s me,” he nodded, offering a small smile as he slid into the chair to the right of you. 

“So, you’re taking Beginnings of American Lit with Professor Liu, right?” you asked, checking the email once more. 

“Yeah. She’s kind of a tough grader, and if I don’t score an A on my next essay it’ll fuck with my GPA,” Peter explained, glancing over at you sheepishly as he dug through his bag, eventually producing a thin stack of rumpled papers. “I was hoping we could edit this one together? Maybe you’ll be able to explain what she’s looking for, ‘cause I really don’t know.” 

“Yeah, Liu is… particular, but not impossible,” you told him, reaching forward to slide the essay toward you. “Luckily, I’ve taken her twice, so I think I’ll be able to help.”

“Oh, thank god. I was starting to feel hopeless,” Peter said, and you couldn’t help but snort at the complete earnestness in his voice.  

“So, I take it you’re not a humanities major,” you observe, and Peter laughs, shaking his head. 

“Definitely not. I’m a chemistry major, actually. Science has always come easily to me, but writing not so much. S’why I put off taking my literature requirement until Junior year.”

“That’s what I did with my lab science requirement,” you said. “And now I’m struggling through a biology lab that might actually kill my GPA. Okay, so, your intro paragraph looks pretty good. Thesis is solid. I think your trouble is probably in the body– Liu is a real stickler for thorough analysis of quotes and citations. And by thorough, I mean extensive to the point of near-redundancy.” 

“Alright, I already know I’m gonna have to beef up the middle, in that case,” Peter sighed, taking the first page of his essay to look over the few line edits you had penned in with red ink. “Hey, about your biology lab. I can help, if you want. As a thank you for helping me with Liu’s class.” 

“Yeah? That’d be a lifesaver, honestly,” you said, raising your brow at him. “I don’t really know anyone in the department to help me find a reliable tutor. Not that I know you’re a reliable tutor. You could be a really shitty chemist, for all I know.” 

Peter let out a theatrical gasp, bringing a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “I’ll have you know that I’m a very good chemist. And, lucky for you, a perfectly average biologist. Good enough to get you to pass that lab with an A, I bet.” 

“Well, then, I’m gonna hold you to that, Mr. Parker.” 

“Just Peter’s fine. Mr. Parker makes me sound geriatric.” 

“Okay, Peter,” you hum. “Look, this quote you have at the top of this paragraph? It’ll be really easy to beef up your analysis if you introduce how it speaks on gender roles in American culture at the time. In fact, you could probably get a whole extra paragraph out of it, if you provide enough context.” 

“Would you mind writing that in the margin? I’ll forget otherwise,” Peter asked and you complied, writing the potential edit in small, neat letters next to the paragraph. “If you’re free Friday afternoon, we could go through some of your biology work.” 

“I actually am free then,” you said, eyes roaming over the last paragraph of his essay. You scribbled a few notes and line edits in, before stacking the pages neatly and sliding them back towards Peter. “Tell you what, you make the edits we talked about today, and we can go over the next version of your essay then, too, yeah? Make sure it’s up to Professor Liu’s standard?” 

“You’re an angel,” Peter said, glancing up from where he was absorbing your edits to shoot you a grin. “Hey, sorry to be so abrupt, but I gotta run. How does same spot, two o’clock on Friday sound?” 

“Works for me. Thanks for volunteering to help, Parker.” 

“ ‘Course. We should exchange numbers, in case anything comes up. I never check my email,” Peter said, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. He passed it along to you, the contacts page opened, and you entered your information, sending a text to yourself so you had his information in return. 

“See you Friday,” you smiled, handing the phone back to him. 

“Friday,” Peter confirmed, taking a few backward steps away from the table before turning around. He glanced over his shoulder once more, waving, before he disappeared into the hall. 

***

“God, this shift couldn’t be any fuckin’ slower,” Mickey groaned, dropping her head against the bodega’s countertop. Her red curls fanned all around her head, dripping over the edge of the counter. 

“Closing shift is always slow, Mick,” you reminded her, leaning against the wall with your arms folded over your chest. The thick of the after work rush had been over for about an hour, leaving the bodega deserted, aside from the two of you and Gary, the ancient orange bodega cat. 

“Dontcha ever just wish somethin’ interesting would happen around here?” she asked, picking her head up in order to blow a big pink bubble from her lips. 

“Interesting things happen in this city every day,” you countered. “Spider-Man fights some new fuckin’ loser every week, man, and that’s just him. Daredevil broke Mrs. Llewellyn’s kitchen window, like, four days ago.” 

“That shit’s not interesting anymore; you said it yourself, it happens every day,” Mickey said, stepping around the counter to pretend to organize the shelves. “Tell you what’d be interesting: if we found out who Daredevil or Spider-Man or any of the others are beneath the mask. And if not that, I’d settle for Daredevil crashing through my bedroom window tonight. That man is fine.” 

“How would you know? Nobody’s ever seen his face.” 

“He’s built, baby. That’s how I know,” Mickey scoffed. 

You shrugged. “I’d rather the cape types stay away from my bedroom window. Or my general vicinity. I’ve got enough going on between class and this job and tutoring without getting involved in one of their situations.” 

“Oh come on, you’re telling me the thought of some sexy superhero literally crashing into your life isn’t appealing at all?” 

“No, dude. I don’t want the drama. Or, I’m sorry, the adventure,” you doubled down. “You can have it.” 

“Amen,” Mickey nodded. “I hope Daredevil heard you say that somehow.” 

Before you could respond, the mostly quiet night was cut through with the sound of police sirens, loud and close and then fading slightly as they passed down the street. 

“Wonder what’s going on,” you murmured, craning your neck to follow the red and blue lights down the block. 

“Whatever it is, I hope a man in tights responds to it.”

“God, Mickey, you are incorrigible,” you groaned, turning away from the window and grasping the handle of the broom, looking for something to do. 

“Don’t use your fancy English major words on me, woman.” 

“Incorrigible is not a fancy–” you started, but were cut off by your phone ringing in your pocket, the specific song you assigned to Mr. Browne, your boss. 

“Hey, bossman, what’s up?” you asked, answering. Concern laced your voice; it wasn’t like Mr. Browne to call during closing shift. He trusted you and Mickey not to burn the place down, and his watching reruns of Jeopardy! time was basically sacred. 

“Honey, listen,” his gruff voice filtered through the speaker. “I want you and Mickey to close up and go on home now.” 

“What? Why? There’s still an hour until closing,” you asked, furrowing your brow. 

“I just saw on the news that there’s a robbery going down in the neighborhood, and I don’t need you girls getting caught up in any danger, okay?”

“Oh, guess that explains the police cars,” you said, more to yourself than to him. 

“You see? Lock up and get out of there,” he said, his voice firmer. “And no dilly-dallying, you hear? I got a bad feeling.” 

“Okay, Mr. Browne, you got it. We’ll close up now and go straight home,” you promised. 

“Good. Just feed Gary before you go.” 

“Will do. G’night, bossman,” you said, before hanging up the phone. 

“What’s that all about?” Mickey asked, brushing a piece of her wild hair away from her face. 

“Apparently those police cars that went by are responding to a robbery in the neighborhood,” you informed her. “Mr. Browne wants us to lock up and go home now before we get caught up in any of the trouble.”

“Must be my lucky day,” Mickey grinned. “You get the keys, I’ll feed Gar.” You did as she said, retrieving the keys, your jacket, and your bag from behind the counter. Already, you were lost in thoughts of going home and crashing immediately in bed. You had been out and about for over twelve hours that day already, and you were practically asleep on your feet. You had half a mind to walk down the block and thank the robbers for cutting your shift short. 

A minute later, the two of you were standing out on the sidewalk. You could hear shouts and the sirens as more police responded to the scene, even the drone of a news copter overhead. The robbery must be closer than you expected, and maybe a bigger problem than you were assuming, too. There was a bank two blocks down and one over; you wondered if it was all going down over there. 

“Alright, text me the minute you get home,” Mickey said sternly. 

“You, too,” you responded. The two of you lived in opposite directions, so you wouldn’t have the comfort of each other’s company on the walk home. 

“We’ll be fine,” Mickey responded with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I bet the neighborhood is safer than usual– bet nobody else will try shit with the place crawling with so many cops. But still text me when you get home, got it?” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She pulled you into a quick, tight hug before waving and heading down the block towards home. You turned in the opposite direction, back towards your apartment in Hell’s Kitchen. The night was cool for the beginning of October, and you pulled your flimsy zip-up tighter around your middle, hiding your hands deep in the pockets. Your head swam with all the things you needed to do for the week, wondering if you should get a jump on some of it with your newfound hour of free time, or actually give yourself a rest for once. You were leaning toward the former; if you hurried, you could probably finish the reading you started at the library before Peter showed up, and the corresponding question set. 

With that thought in mind, you cut through a nearby alley, shaving off a block from your walk. You wouldn’t normally, but you had a feeling that Mickey was right, the high concentration of cops in the area would deter any other criminals. Probably you’d be fine. You stuffed your earbuds in your ears and pressed play on whatever had last been going, lost in thought as you tried to plan the rest of your week around class and work shifts and your new tutoring session with Peter. 

As you cut through a second alley, bringing you just half a block from home, chin tucked in and head down against the wind, you didn’t hear the squeal of tires as they turned around a corner and sped down the street you were just on. You didn’t hear as they abruptly turned into the alley, doors scraping against a dumpster. The hair-raising screech of metal on metal finally cut through your music, and you turned around just in time to find a large, black SUV barrelling straight towards you. 

There was nowhere to go. The alley was hardly wider than the car itself, and fear or shock or some horrible mix of both at the sight of it coming toward you had rooted you to one spot on the wet asphalt. 

Fuck. I am about to die, you thought as you stared down the headlights, so bright you couldn’t see whoever was driving the thing. 

The next ten seconds– because, really, it couldn’t have been any longer than that– occurred in a blur. The impact, your body on the wet ground. Front right tire crushing over your torso, the back tire following half a second later. Vaguely, with the small part of your brain where synapses still seemed to be firing, you knew there must be immeasurable pain, but all you felt was cold and static. There were too many things happening at once, too many pains and thoughts all garbled together that you couldn’t feel or register any of it. 

You laid there, staring up at the dark, gusty sky, expecting death to collect you at any moment. When, after several minutes of slow blinking and shallow breathing, you were still alive, you figured you might have experienced a miracle. Maybe the tires had passed over you in just the right way to preserve your life? Not that you thought such a thing was possible. Getting crushed by a speeding SUV felt like a very final kind of thing. 

Slowly, your senses started coming back to you. Hearing first, as you registered sirens rushing past at the mouth of the alley. You grimaced, tensing as you waited for them to also cut down the alley and actually kill you this time, but they passed by without incident. The pain started next: a horrible, dull ache across your ribs and a sharper, prickling kind of hurt along your shoulder blades, but nothing like you thought you should have been experiencing. You were worried that it was still all a trick of the mind, that you’d muster up the courage to lift your head and look down to take stock of the damage and find your torso resembling roadkill more than anything human. But you couldn’t lay there forever, you reasoned, and so went to work testing appendages to see if they were in order. 

You wiggled your fingers and toes first, surprised, frankly, that you were able to do so. If you could wiggle your toes, everything below your ribs must still be connected to everything above your ribs. Good sign. You bent your arms at the elbow next, which reignited the flame of pain in your shoulder blades, but they moved fine otherwise. Bent your knees, turned your head from side to side. You were… okay, you concluded. Physically not dying in a dirty alley, at least. 

A jolt of effort, and you sat up all the way, despite the protest of pain across your ribs and shoulder blades. Looking down, you took stock of the dark tire track running across the front of your sweater, but more importantly, the very uncrushed nature of your ribs and internal organs. 

“How the fuck,” you muttered to yourself, brushing your hands tentatively down your front. The contact of your palms against your middle was like irritating a nasty bruise, but that was it. That was… impossible, you were pretty sure. Maybe you could gaslight yourself into believing it was if it had been some tiny, dinghy little car that had run you over, but it was a fucking monstrous SUV. 

Blinking, you reached back toward the wall behind you and used it to hoist yourself up onto your feet. A terrible panic was creeping up on you now, and you preferred to deal with that in the privacy of your bedroom, not on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. As you turned to stumble your way out of the alley, you noticed something else: the pavement beneath where you had fallen was crushed in a peculiar shape, almost like wings and six feet across. 

“What the fuck,” you said, louder this time. Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck. This situation was getting stranger by the second, and you were pretty sure you were about to experience a mental break, if you weren’t already. 

Maybe I actually am dead, and none of this is happening right now, you mused as the alley spat you back out on the street. Your feet headed in the direction of your apartment on their own accord, your mind caught up in bright headlights and wing shapes stamped into asphalt. A horrible headache was building behind your eyes, and all you wanted was to get to the safety of your own home, dead or not. 

The walk seemed to take an eternity in your dazed state, but eventually the familiar redbrick corner building that had been your home for the last two years loomed in front of you. You fumbled in your jacket pocket for your key, gripping it in your shaky fist as you punched in the key code to the front door. Up four flights of stairs, a fight with the apartment door as the lock rejected your key like always. You went through the motions in a dream state, so many thoughts tumbling through your head, but none of them sticking. Before opening the door, you shucked off your sweater and balled it up in your arms, in case either of your roommates were up and about. You really had no idea how you’d be able to explain the tire tracks across the front. 

Inside, the lights were dim and a Bob’s Burgers rerun was playing at low-volume on the little television. An electric blue pixie cut shot up over the back of the couch at the sound of the opening door. 

“You’re home early,” your cousin, Winona, called to you. “What’s the deal?” 

“Uh…robbery. Down the block. Mr. Browne wanted us to leave early to be, um, safe,” you stammered out, toeing your shoes off at the door. Each subtle movement sent more pain lancing through your ribs, and you struggled to keep a straight, unbothered face. 

Winona wasn’t convinced. After living together for two years and knowing you since birth, she was familiar with all of your little idiosyncrasies. She could tell when you were just a little irritated, so of course she could tell when you… well, when whatever the fuck just happened, happened to you. Her thick, dark brows drew in until they met at the center, brown eyes narrowing as she scrutinized you. 

“What’s going on with you?” Your cousin was not one to beat around the bush. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, skirting around the question.

“Somethin’s wrong with our girl?” a sleepy voice called from the other end of the couch. A second later, Odie’s head of wild brown waves popped up over the back of the couch. Winona’s best friend since grade school and your other roommate, she was extremely protective over you. Always had been, since she met you when you started freshman year at Midtown High and she and Winona were seniors. 

“There’s nothing wrong,” you huffed. Even that extra expansion of your lungs caused the pain to flare. “I’m just tired. It was a long day.”

Winona frowned at you, clearly disbelieving. “I made lasagna earlier. You hungry?” 

“Ate a bunch of junk at work with Mick. But I’ll bring some with me for lunch tomorrow,” you promised, and wrenched open your bedroom door and disappeared behind it before either of them could question you further. You pressed yourself against the door once it was closed, then jumped away quickly as the action sent an explosion of pain through your shoulder blades. You’d forgotten about it that fast. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, closing your eyes against the burning of tears suddenly threatening to come. “Oh, god. What the fuck. What the fuck.” 

What was even the next move? You couldn’t very well go out there and tell Winona you’d been crushed by an SUV earlier in the night. Nothing about your current state would corroborate the claim, why would she, or anyone else, believe you? And honestly, that was the least of your worries. More pressing issues: why weren’t you crushed by the SUV? Why weren’t you fucking dead? What was up with the weird, wing-shaped damage in the street below you? What had actually happened in that alley?

Something was deeply, deeply not right. You could feel the wrongness of it all buzzing through every inch of your body. You knew that the feeling would overwhelm you if you let it, and you were dangerously close to just sinking to the floor and letting it take you. 

Your phone buzzed in your back pocket. Opening your eyes, you fished it out and brought the too-bright screen to your eyes. 

Make it home okay? The text from Mickey read. 

No, you wanted to say. Got hit by a fucking car but somehow I think that might be the least of my problems. I think something’s really wrong. 

Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, but of course you didn’t type it. You shot off a text confirming that you did– because really, you supposed, you did get home okay in some sense of the word– and asked if she did, too. 

After Mickey texted back that she did get home safe, you set about the task of peeling off your uniform. Every movement hurt like a bitch, and you reminded yourself every five seconds that you should be grateful for the pain. You didn’t even have a single broken bone. You weren’t dead. You could handle some aches and bruising. 

You worked your jeans off first, then your shirt and bra, heaping them in the corner of your room and plucking a random t-shirt and pajama shorts out of your drawer. Before pulling on the t-shirt, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror tucked in the corner. As you suspected, a thick line of bruises was already purpling along your ribs, the width of a car tire. You sighed, turning to see how far they stretched on either side and paused when your back came into view. 

Two thick lines of what looked like red, irritated scar tissue traced along the lines of your shoulder blades. It looked as though someone had surgically cut them open, and recently. You brought a hand to your mouth, suppressing the gasp threatening to worm its way out. You felt like all the crap you ate at work was about to make a reappearance. 

Those certainly hadn’t been there this morning. You would know: you stood naked in front of this very mirror after your shower, sleepily trying to pick out your outfit. The skin of your back had been smooth, unscarred. Obviously. You would have remembered if you had gone through something that would have resulted in scars like this. 

“Okay, no,” you muttered, throwing the t-shirt over your head as quickly as possible in your bruised, hurting state. This was all too much to deal with in one night, you decided suddenly. You were tired and hurting and you had a busy fucking day tomorrow, damn it. 

You pulled your blankets back and turned off the light, climbing gingerly into bed. Maybe if you were lucky, you would wake up in the morning to all of this having been some wild fucking nightmare. Not that you were ever that lucky.

[roses-r-rosie3]

Smiley

Miguel O’Hara x M!Reader

Warnings: fluff, google translated Spanish, Mayday being a cutie-Patootie

Summary: Peter asks Miguel to babysit Mayday while he and MJ go out on a date, but before Miguel can say no, the reader says yes

Quote: "You know.. Since you're so good with kids maybe we should have some of our own someday"

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Peter and MJ were celebrating their anniversary but there was one problem. The babysitter called in sick that day. So Peter had no choice but to ask his work colleagues. But when he did, they either couldn’t or just straight up said ‘no’. So Peter had no choice but to ask Miguel.

Of course Miguel would probably say no too but it was worth a shot. Luckily, when Peter got inside of Miguel’s office, he saw that you were there. You two were friends, he met you through Miguel. But he knew Miguel was always less grumpy when you were around, so maybe that would increased his chances.

“Hey Miguel.. uhh.. I was wondering.. would you maybe wanna babysit Mayday for me while me and MJ go out?” Peter laughed nervously as he held Mayday up to him.

Your eyes lit up in joy. Mayday’s little smile brightened the room. Who would say no to such a cute face?

“N-”

“Yes! Of course! We’ll totally babysit her” you yelped excitingly.

Miguel gave you a death-stare, but you didn’t care. You quickly ran to Peter and Peter handed Mayday over to you.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do sweetie” Peter said as he kissed Mayday’s head before he left.

“What was that y/n! We can’t take care of a kid! We can barley even take care of ourselves!” Miguel yelled.

“Don’t be so dramatic Miggy we can totally take care of her” you smiled as you rocked Mayday in your arms.

“Dios por favor ayudame¹” Miguel Sighed.

"You're going to have the best time of your life" you cooed as you ignored Miguel.

Mayday laughed in excitement as you tossed her in the air and catched her.

"Ooh! Miguel can you make her a little trampoline with your webs for her?" you asked.

"God you're so immature" Miguel sighed.

But who was he to deny your request? So he got off and grumbled as he made a trampoline for Mayday. After Miguel was done, you excitedly placed Mayday on the homemade trampoline and watched her bounced with joy on her face.

"Oh my god isn't she so cute!!" You giggled.

Miguel would be lying if he said that he didn't crack a smile while watching Mayday bounce happily.

"We should take a picture and send it to Peter!" you said as you pulled your phone out.

You took a picture and sent it to peter and he responded with a '🥹' Emoji. After a while of you playing with Mayday and Miguel slowly losing his brain cells, you eventually got hungry and Mayday was a bit sleepy, so you asked Miguel if he could take care of Mayday for a bit while you got something to eat.

After you got your food you decided to bring some food for Miguel and Mayday. When you got back to Miguel's office, you saw Mayday dead asleep in Miguel's arms while he cradled and cooed her in his arms.

"Holy shit this is so cute!!" you whisper squealed.

You put the food down and quickly whipped your phone out and took about +50 photos of Miguel and Mayday. You quickly sent 1/3 of the photos to peter, earning a 'No way that's Miguel' response from him.

"Not right now y/n" Miguel whisper yelled.

After Peter and MJ came back from their date, Peter opened a portal to the society and walked inside of Miguel's office to see you playing with Mayday in your arms.

"Hey guys, I came to pick up Mayday, I hope she didn;t cause any trouble" Peter said.

"Of course she didn't! She is an angel" you smiled.

"How do you guys want me to pay you? Do you guys want cash or do you want me to get you a gift?" Peter asked.

"It's fine Peter, Mayday is a gift herself" you said.

"Oh and by the way Miguel, I never knew you were a kid type of person" Peter chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah" Miguel grumbled.

"I know right?!" You laughed.

"Anyways, thank you guys for taking care of Mayday. Bye guys" Peter smiled.

After Peter left the room it only left you and Miguel.

"You know.. Since you're so good with kids maybe we should have some of our own someday" you smirked.

Miguel nearly choked.

"EW! You guys know that I'm here right?!" Lyla fake-gagged.

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¹ = God please help me

(Again i'm not very fluent in spainish so I got it off of google translate)

[carb0n-m0n0xid3]

Mouthvasihng Yap

because my stupid brain wont let me live without this, im gonna make a recap (and other stuffs) of everything in mouthwashing. PLEASE tell me if i get anything wrong.

[color-coded to cure my autism :3]

CHARACTERS •Anya- beloved nurse (Top left) •Daisuke- optimistic intern (Top middle) •Swansea- mechanic of the ship (Top right) •Curly- the captain (Before: bottom left. After: bottom middle) •Jimmy- co-captain (or captain in command I believe) (Bottom right) So basically the entire game is set off because of Jimmy. You do play as him anyways. He does a very bad thing to Anya [he rapes and impregnates her], so she decides it would be best to tell the captain himself, which she does. Curly then decides he should talk to Jimmy. •QUOTE THAT MAKES ME CRY :D "I'll talk to him"

[THIS REPRESENTS JIMBUS(right) AND CURLY(left)!!] Jimmy does not want to take RESPONSIBILITY (key point in the game) for his actions, for what he did to Anya. He'd rather die than face the consequences. So Jimmy decides to crash the ship into an oncoming asteroid, thinking to save only himself.

(keep in mind on what Anya said as well) I believe Jimmy locked Curly in the cockpit. I am not certain, but it is a possibility. He wanted him to die. He wanted to have no witnesses so he wouldn't be charged of what he did.

But as of now, the entire Tulpar crew is stuck on the ship, just surviving. Anya is the one to care for Curly, giving him painkillers. She doesn't like the job much, becoming uneasy at his moans of pain and overall state of being.

Once, though, she asked Jimmy to give Curly his meds. Jimmy was fed up, but decided to do it. Unfortunately the cruel bum decided to beat him.. After that dialogue you can even hear Curly crying.

Really quick, I just wanna say that this dialogue with Anya and Curly is very interesting. She seems to be the one staring at the pixel, saying "In the back of my mind, it's always there." But Curly, on the other hand, seems not to care much. "I don't think it ruins the illusion though. It's peaceful. But maybe I'm just used to looking at the bigger picture." Interesting that word he says... illusion.

Jimmy just made life miserable on the Tulpar, bringing Anya to her fate. She decided it would be best to just end it all, to rid herself of Jimmy and the burden given to her from him..

Daisuke manages to find out she's "stuck" in medical when actually she locked the door.

IM SORRY, SHE JUST MAKES ME SO SAD D: But anyways, I'm gonna condense the story line a bit now. So in short, Jimbus basically manipulates Daisuke into going into the vents, despite their danger, to save Curly (except he didn't really care, i think).

•QUOTE THAT MAKES ME CRY :D "Anya...? ...what d-did you do?" So Daisuke goes into the vents, proving their danger... He returns bloody and scarred all over his body from the vents. Jimmy decided it was "best" to disinfect the wounds with mouthwash (cuz they "remove 99.99% of germs"), only making them worse. This probably symbolizes the entire Tulpar situation: something really bad happened, so Jimmy tries to FIX IT with something, only making everything worse for everyone. Swansea decides to do the best thing for Daisuke, and uses the emergency fire ax to kill him, essentially putting him out of his misery.

•"It's alright Daisuke. Calm down. ...This line of work. You could never have become like ol' Swansea. What a tragedy." ... •"I thought you were dumber than a can of paint, always just chewing my ear off about nothing. Useless ray of goddamn sunshine." ... •"You coulda taught an old fool like me alot. ..." ... •"Close your eyes, Daisuke." I love Swansea's "speech" to Daisuke, but it makes me so sad :( ANYWAYS, Jimmy goes completely bonkers at the fact that he killed Daisuke. It was a mercy kill, but all he saw was another crew member dead.

Long story short, he decides to kill Swansea. Swansea gives a beautiful speech before dying to him, and I REALLY wanna pick at that, but its quite long.. I might reblog this for it cuz this is already very long. But Jimbus shoots Swansea and returns to Curly (who is somehow still alive). (I am going to skip talking about some scenes)

"We fixed it..." "I... fixed it..."

Jimbo basically takes poor ol' Curly to the utility room and puts him into the cryopod thingy. He says his farewell and shoots himself before Curly is ejected into space, frozen and traveling throughout, lost and unfound.

[hugsandchaos]

Headcanons for Eldritch Danny

I suck at giving measurements, but I can try. Just know he’s as big as a two story building standing up and can hold a bus like a hot dog. But I bet he’d try to use both hands since it probably has people inside.

He only has two arms in his eldritch form. He can use them to crawl and walk around no problem, but running is something he doubts he can do, so he just flies if he needs to go fast.

I’m thinking of giving him extra eyes just for the spookiness, but I also want a few features to reflect on the whole “space eldritch” thing. Here’s what I have. 1) No extra eyes, but looking into Danny’s eyes in this form will make you see the vastness and beauty of space. Galaxies, stars being born, comets shooting past planets, ect. Whether they’re terrified or amazed by this sight differs based on each person. 2) Give him extra eyes and make them the ones that give the person a vision of outer space. The first two eyes are just completely green now. No white, no pupils, just a green glow.

A circle of the northern lights floats above his head at all times, similar to a crown. A few strands of southern lights give him a pair of antlers like a deer maybe?? Just a reminder, northern lights are normally green and blue and southern lights are red and purple. At least in the pictures I’ve seen. Also the deer thing is just because a lot of people like to link Danny with a deer, and honestly, I kind of see it! I like it!

Most of his body is dark, but his hands, hair, and part of his tail are white.

Also, his skin sort of moves kind of like water when he’s still. Because everything in space is always moving, so is Eldritch Danny. If you were to lean on him, though, you wouldn’t feel the ripples. The ripples stop a little before they touch you.

Star! Freckles! Star! Freckles! STAR!! FRECKLES!!!

The white spots glow in the dark, and his tail looks like a comet when he flies overhead at night.

That’s all I’ve got. For now.

Honestly, writing this, I’ve been imagining Danny using this eldritch form and is outside Casper High for whatever reason. A bunch of students are coming over to say hi and Danny is just laid down on the ground. Sam and Tucker come over to say hi and Danny uses a hand to pull them close and curl up around them, purring just loud enough that everyone can hear.

Or they all hear this deep, terrifying roar and Danny perks up before answering his one of his own, albeit not as loud or intimidating. In comes Eldritch Clockwork!

Bonus quotes! Also Lancer’s in on the secret.

Lancer: Alright, you’ve had your fun. Time to come back inside.

Eldritch Danny: *unhappy eldritch noises while putting a hand over Sam and Tucker*

Lancer: Young man, let go of your friends and come back inside.

[1lenii]

FAOTP, FaceTime!

E42!Miles x F!Reader

Basically what the title says

Falling asleep on the phone with Miles(works for both miles, I’m not picky 🥰

PLEASE TELL ME YA SEE WHAT I DID WITH THE PICTURE 🙏🏽 and maybe in the fic itself;)

I present the inspiration for this fic!!

Enjoy loves⭐️

****************************************************

“Cmon Ma, I promise it’ll be fun”

(Y/N) listens to Miles beg for the one chance opportunity as well as hearing the aggressive pressing of buttons on the controller he was holding.

Falling asleep on call.

(Y/N) isn’t opposed to the idea, if anything she’s all for it. Except for one factor.. Miles snores and more often then not when he’s over it disturbs (Y/N) beauty sleep.

“Miles..no”

Still considering the idea (Y/N) responds nonetheless

“Why~?”

“Cause you snore.. like really loud”

“Nuh uh, do not”

“Do too, I’ll tell you what. You get what you want if we make a deal”

Miles eyes her through his screen skeptical. Now twisting his off his headset and untangling the wire from from one of his twin braids shaking it loose, taking the phone which was propped up on the console.

“‘Nd that would be?”

“Cant flake out on our study dates”

“Pero ma eso no��”

“No buts. We’ve been over this” (Y/N) cuts him off with a click of her tongue

“Fine princesa, You have a deal” he smirks at the screen already getting ready to head to his bed

(Y/N) doing the same.

****************************************************

(Y/N) was dosing off as Miles passionately expresses about his art, and graphite and how he almost got caught cause his dad wasn’t in duty, instead was at a trip with his mom to San Juan. (🇵🇷)

Miles noticed this

“Hey mami”

(Y/N) takes a few seconds to process with her tired mind and responds with a faint ‘mhm’

“You tired?”

“No no not At all keep going, I enjoy your rambling”

(Y/N) tries to open her eyes completely, even with her futile attempt they go back to the siren shape from when she tired. Miles took a quick screen shot, one where (Y/N) did not notice.

Miles stopped for second to take in the sight of his lover. Shoulder cover in a thick warm comforter, the squeezed peluche under her hold peaking out from between her phone and the herself. And the faint light of her skin glowing in oppose to the light the is emiting

Right when Miles is about to continue his story he hears soft snores. Softly smiling to himself as he watches you sleep.

(I would assume due to Spiderman/prowler duties he doesn’t get much sleep so he’s able to stay up late)

Miles enjoys the moment as an idea pops into his head. He slowly shuffles to grab his phone pressing the + volume and turn off button and starts spamming screenshots of (Y/N) sleeping face to later set as a his Lock Screen.

Sooner or later Miles dozes off muting himself for the upcoming alarm in the morning set for 8:00 am (hate the am like not even tryna quote hobie anymore in really hate waking up early)

****************************************************

Miles wakes up gets ready to head out, and do his Mile errands while also stopping by (Y/N) dorm delivering her groceries as she usually forgets leaving her to crash at his due to the lack of snacks and food.

He inserts the keycard to enter, now leaving the groceries on the counter as well as his phone and keys to find (Y/N) now exiting her room.

“Goodmorning princess”

“Morning” (Y/N) strutted over to the counter sliding Miles phone from it previous spout while Miles puts away the groceries he got earlier.

“Miles. Que diablo is this.”

“What? You want me to leave my girl starving?”

Miles looks over his shoulder knowing that’s not what his lover meant, just to see (Y/N) on his phone.

Opening the phone with her Face ID, she’s stares wide eyed at the phone, a picture taken back when she was barely awake last night

“Last time falling asleep on the phone with you Morales”

(Y/N) hops outta her seat at the counter heading back to her room, mumbling a bunch of i hate you’s and never again’a

Miles closes the cabinet laughing while trailing after his girlfriend

The phone all forgotten about.

****************************************************