#iI NEED to be cool and mysterious

[basilpaste]

i love to get. theories about my work. i will be So Good at not giving away the answers early i promise (shaking with the urge to spoil the things i make)

[ilions-end]

i finished statius' ACHILLEID. thoughts thoughts thoughts:

i knew going in it was a VERY short unfinished epic, but i didn't know it would be FUN?? if i ever get that time machine, FIRST THING i go back and find one publius papinius statius, i lock him in a room, and i'm NOT letting him out until he's finished the achilleid!

achilles is statius' BLORBO in a way neither homer, quintus nor virgil have blorbos. statius likes achilles to be strong and pretty and graceful, but most of all ENDEARING even when he fails. and he fails a lot, because this is him still figuring out how to be an adult, not to mention a prophesied legend literally everyone is waiting for to step up

the one thing that gets tiring is just how many prophecies permeate the achilleid. nothing's left to chance, there are so few unknowns. even ODYSSEUS was aware that from peleus' wedding there would come a child destined to be a central warrior in an upcoming gigantic war.

as it stands, the achilleid is more of a... thetisiad? she is very centered in the narrative (we spend more time looking at things from her point of view than achilles') and there is SO MUCH SYMPATHY for her, oh my gosh!! she loves ONE person, her son, the only worthwhile thing she got out of a traumatizing marriage, and she despairs that he's fated to die young in a silly human war.

also i'm a deidamia defender forever now. so three-dimensional, so clever!

aughhh i love how much characterization statius puts in, even in the small scenes! my favourite example is odysseus and diomedes as they walk up to lycomedes' place (literally just moving characters from A to B). diomedes teases odysseus, and odysseus is delighted to be teased. that night we're told odysseus CAN'T SLEEP because he's too excited about showing off his plan the next morning!

the unveiling of achilles is completely different from the chagrined defeat/"achilles is a fucking idiot" ways i've heard it retold! i love that it's collaborative, it's a mutual triumph. it's just as much achilles (who's been suffering in gender dysphoria hell for a year) longing to be exposed as it is odysseus LIVING for showing everyone (especially diomedes?) how clever he is. it's not just the shield and the spear and the bugle, it's odysseus playing the part of the siren, whispering in achilles' ear that he knows who he is and describing how glorious he will be on the trojan battlefield. it's achilles' grateful relief at being ALLOWED not to pretend anymore as he rips off his own dress even before the bugle calls

also it's very important to me that the moment he's no longer hunching over trying to make himself look small and inoffensive, we're told achilles is taller than both odysseus and diomedes

i KEEP IMAGINING how good statius would have made the rest!! especially because as book ii ends, achilles regards odysseus as a cool uncle; he's the guy who rescued him! i want to think statius would have put in the big mystery quarrel achilles and odysseus are said to have had early in the war, something to drastically change that affection. i want to know how statius would have handled troilus, and the gods. augh statius you roman BLUEBALLER

an assortment of story beats still revolving in my head:

chiron is such a sweetheart!! he's SO gallant with thetis, he's so affectionate with achilles. he HIDES HIS TEARS when achilles leaves, awww

statius writes out phoinix completely. as a phoinix stan i object. sure chiron can raise young achilles, but i NEED phoinix to tend to him as a baby

i enjoy how achilles EXPLODES into a mess of teenagerly hormones when he first sees deidaima. it's so funny that thetis is looking on (and we get my favourite simile of the achilleid, of a herdsman delighting in a young bull snorting and foaming at a beautiful heifer) like "aaaaand there's my son's sexual awakening. i see! well, we can use that" and THAT explains why achilles is so willing to commit to the female disguise

(listen. listen. few things mean more to me than the love between achilles and patroclus. but achilles is a teenage boy at the age when a fucking breeze will give him a boner, and deidamia is the most beautiful and the cleverest of her sisters. i really enjoy a story where achilles and deidamia are neither "fated eternal true love" or one's a sneaky opportunist. it's much more compelling that they're both knots of budding emotions and bodily feedback)

i notice that statius never uses the name pyrrha, he doesn't seem to have a fake name at all, just "achilles' sister"

lycomedes is SO honoured and proud that thetis is entrusting her daughter to him. i feel sorry for lycomedes, he seems so earnest and hasn't done anything to get tricked

the one thing i can't forgive statius for is that after spending SO much time establishing that achilles and deidamia (who knows he's a guy) are genuinely into each other, it feels like statius goes OUT OF HIS WAY assuring us that their first sexual encounter is rape. sure they talk right after, deidamia forgives him, AND i understand there are social rules that makes deidamia more "honourable" and "worthy" when she resists, but like. sigh.

aLONG with the previously mentioned interplay between odysseus and diomedes as they walk up to lycomedes' court, there's a simile where they're both starving wolves on the hunt. so sexy it's almost illegal

the feast scene is SO FUNNY omg. all of achilles' careful feminine training dissolving because odysseus and diomedes are there with their boundless masculinity for him to feed off of. deidamia practically WRESTLING achilles back down on the couch every time he forgets himself and behaves too much like a man. odysseus chatting with lycomedes SPECIFICALLY trying to rile up achilles, and then after the women have left (achilles dragging his feet and looking back, YEARNING for their male company) odysseus specifically praises the maiden's "almost masculine" beauty (because ohh he suspects. he just needs to prove it in the morning. he can't SLEEP for it)

when they depart, achilles earnestly swears to deidamia that no other women shall ever bear his children. i find it interesting as a reminder of the social rules of its era. neither of them expect achilles to be sexually exclusive, just not fathering potential heirs. which again makes me wonder about the contraceptives in ancient greece

on the ship towards aulis, diomedes begs achilles to tell them all about his feats and training with chiron, and achilles is so shy about it! who can blame him! diomedes has a WAY more impressive track record

odysseus is SO good at firing up achilles' outrage at paris even as he's just catching him up on what the war's about. and he's so pleased at how easily achilles' outrage can be directed! you KNOW that would have developed in such an interesting way AUGH THE REST WOULD HAVE BEEN SO GOOD.

[endangeredrandomfanfics]

"A Song to Gather Witches"

Taglist- @skittlebum @circe143 @quailbagutte

Summary: You've got your powers Agatha found a way to make them useful for your cons scamming gig, this time you've witnessed her do it draining witches seeing her purple -Chapter IV

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

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The saloon was dimly lit, filled with the smell of smoke and aged wood, the murmur of voices and clinking glasses creating a lively atmosphere. Amidst the crowd, the young reader sat on a small stage, their fingers hovering over a dusty piano as they glanced around, gauging the room. They could feel the quiet hum of their mother’s magic, woven into the air like a whisper, guiding them toward their purpose tonight.

Just before leaving that morning, Agatha had leaned in, her eyes sparkling with pride and a hint of mischief. “Remember, my love,” she’d murmured, brushing a stray hair from their forehead. “Tonight, we need the song to travel—so that the right ears might hear it.”

And so, here they were, under the warm glow of candlelight, ready to sing the melody they’d written together: Witches’ Road. They knew the song by heart, every note and word crafted to call out, inviting magic-seekers toward its ancient lure. The piano keys felt cool beneath their fingers as they began to play, the haunting melody weaving through the saloon.

As their voice joined the music, soft and sure, conversations began to quiet. Heads turned, listening as the words drifted through the room.

"There's a road that's wild and wicked, winding through the wood

Where all that's wrong is right and all that's bad is good

Through many miles of tricks and trials, we wander high and low

Tame your fears, a door appears, the time has come to go…"

Their voice was filled with a subtle magic, a lure that pulled at hearts and minds, drawing listeners into the mystery of the song. Eyes watched them with fascination, some captivated, others with an uneasy curiosity. As the song reached its chorus, a few women near the back exchanged glances, leaning in closer, their interest piqued.

"Down, down, down the road

Down the witches' road

Down, down, down the road

Down the witches' road

Down, down, down the road

Down the witches' road

Follow me, my friend

To glory and the end…"

When the final note lingered, fading into the air, there was a soft hush in the room, broken only by scattered murmurs. The women from the back made their way forward, curiosity gleaming in their eyes.

One of them, a tall woman with silver-streaked hair, gave the reader a long, assessing look. “That’s a peculiar tune for someone so young,” she said, her voice low but warm. “Where’d you learn a song like that?”

The reader met her gaze with innocent wonder, tilting their head as if the question surprised them. “It’s… something I came up with myself,” they said, keeping their tone light, humble, even a bit shy. “I’ve always been drawn to magic, to the mysteries and stories of witches. But it’s hard to learn when no one is willing to teach.”

The woman raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, and the others exchanged whispers. “You’re… self-taught?” another asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

They nodded. “But it’s not enough. I’ve been looking for someone who could show me the true path—a real mentor.” The reader’s voice took on a slight note of longing, one that Agatha had coached them to use, and they cast their gaze down, as though a little shy showing a subtle colored little spark from her hands.

The silver-haired woman’s expression softened as she looked at the reader, her curiosity turning to something else—a hint of sympathy, perhaps. She glanced at her companions before giving a slight nod. “Come with us,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “If you’re serious about seeking the path, I believe we may be able to help.”

The reader smiled, a small, grateful smile, and slid down from the piano bench. They followed the woman and her companions out of the saloon and into the quiet night, their pulse quickening as they thought of Agatha, waiting in the forest.

As they walked, the reader could feel the air changing, a faint vibration in the earth beneath their feet. Magic was gathering, old and powerful, drawn by the song and by the reader’s carefully spoken words. They kept their face calm, nodding along as the women spoke in low voices about the “Witches’ Road” and its history, speculating about how such a young soul could know a song like that.

After a while, they reached a clearing, surrounded by tall trees whose branches stretched up toward the star-filled sky. The witches turned to face the reader, their expressions serious.

“We don’t usually take to strangers, especially ones as young as you,” the silver-haired woman said, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “But something about you is… different. There’s a power in you that feels older than your years.”

The reader met her gaze, giving a small, earnest nod. “Thank you for trusting me. I promise, I’m ready to learn.”

Just as the woman was about to reply, a soft rustling sounded from the shadows, and the air grew thick with tension. One by one, the women turned, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. The shadows deepened, twisting and stretching as if alive, and from the darkness, Agatha emerged, her silhouette outlined against the moonlight, her eyes gleaming with a fierce intelligence.

The witches took a step back, their expressions shifting from curiosity to alarm.

“You’re… you’re her mother?” one of them whispered, looking at Agatha with dawning recognition.

Agatha smiled, a calm, knowing smile, and nodded. “Indeed. And you were kind enough to keep my little one company tonight.” Her voice was smooth, filled with a dark charm that held them in place, even as they sensed the danger.

The silver-haired woman’s expression hardened, realizing the trap too late. “This was a setup,” she hissed, her voice low with anger.

Agatha tilted her head, her gaze unyielding. “I never said it wasn’t.”

Without another word, she raised her hand, and a dark mist coiled around her fingers, crackling with a subtle, sinister power. The witches tried to resist, casting protective spells and trying to break free, but Agatha’s magic was stronger—each spell they cast was met with a swift, effortless counter. She moved gracefully, almost as though she were dancing, drawing power from them, siphoning their magic as they struggled.

The reader watched, both awed and unnerved. They knew what their mother was capable of, but witnessing her in action, surrounded by these powerful witches who had no chance against her, was something different entirely.

As the last of the coven fell to the ground, drained and silent, Agatha turned to them, her eyes softening as she approached. She brushed a strand of hair from their face, her expression filled with warmth and pride.

“You did perfectly, my love,” she murmured, her voice a gentle contrast to the fierce power they had just witnessed. “Just as I knew you would.”

They looked up at her, a small, relieved smile breaking through. “It worked,” they whispered, the weight of the night’s events settling over them. “They really believed I needed their help.”

Agatha smiled, pride shining in her eyes. “That’s because you have the heart of a true witch—clever, resourceful, and far stronger than most would ever guess. You’re learning fast.”

But even as her words brought comfort, a pang of guilt stirred in the reader’s heart. “Mama… I didn’t know it would feel like this.” They looked at the fallen witches, an uncertain shadow crossing their face. “What if they… what if they didn’t deserve it?”

Agatha knelt down, her expression softening as she took their hands in hers. “Listen to me, my love. Those who would harm us, or stand in the way of what we need, they give us no choice. This is the path we walk, and it’s a path not everyone can understand.”

The reader nodded, letting her words sink in, though the weight still lingered.

Seeing their unease, Agatha cupped their cheek, a tender smile playing on her lips. “You have a compassionate heart, my dear one, and that is a gift. But there are times we must be strong and unyielding to protect what’s ours.” She stroked their cheek. “Trust in your strength, and trust that you were right to call them to us. You did nothing wrong.”

With Agatha’s reassurances, the reader felt a calm settle over them, a reminder of their purpose and the bond they shared with her. They walked together back through the forest, the night quiet around them, the stars gleaming overhead. As they walked, Agatha began to hum the familiar melody, and the reader joined her, their voices mingling softly as they sang together.

"There's a road that's wild and wicked, winding through the wood..."

Their voices blended, filling the night air with the haunting, beautiful song, a mother and child bound by love, secrets, and a strength that would see them through any trial ahead.

===============================

A/n: Comment?,👀😩🖐🏻, I'm bored and lacking motivation for this

[astrcmoni]

✮⋆˙⭒NIGHTS LIKE THIS✮⋆˙⭒

CHAPTER II: UNCHARTED ROADS

pairing: street racer!reader x billie eilish

MASTERLIST

warnings: cussing, implications of death…that’s really it

wc: 3.8k on the dot

authors note: i know i’ve been gone, life’s been lifing but please take this as a peace offering and enjoy. 🙏🏾 and if you haven’t read the previous chapter, i suggest that you do.

Your heart raced painfully in your chest as you sped off into the inky blackness of the night. The world around you melded into a dizzying blur of colors and shapes as you weaved through the escaping cars. The wailing sirens faded into a distant echo, barely piercing the adrenaline-fueled haze surrounding you as you tore down the familiar streets toward home.

Images of her flooded your mind like an unrelenting tide. You could picture her standing in the chaotic aftermath, eyes wide with shock, watching you rush to leave, her gaze lingering on your car until it vanished from sight, swallowed by the darkness.

“Focus,” you muttered under your breath, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter as you veered onto a dimly lit side street, expertly dodging an oncoming vehicle. The screech of tires and blaring horns melded into a chaotic symphony, the world outside a cacophony of noise. You glanced into your rearview mirror, catching the furious expression of the driver you cut off, who promptly flashed you their middle finger. A smirk crept across your lips as you returned the gesture, your irritation boiling to the surface.

The flashing lights of the pursuing police cars flickered in your rearview mirror like erratic strobe lights, their sirens blaring through the night air. You leaned forward, adrenaline surging through your veins with every second. The pulse of the chase throbbed within you, but all you could think about was Billie.

How the streetlights cast a soft glow over her, illuminating her freckles that twinkled like stars scattered across a night sky. Her blue eyes transformed into a stormy grey as she looked at you with admiration, a smile dancing on her plump pink lips, making your heart skip.

Butterflies fluttered wildly in your stomach at the memory of her compliment. Why had you gotten so flustered when she smiled at you like that? What was it about her that sent your heart into a frenzy?

You took a deep breath, trying to regain your focus. The narrow alleyways and sharp turns of the backstreets were your territory—you knew them like the back of your hand. With a swift flick of your wrist, you downshifted and swerved around a tight corner, the wail of the sirens fading as you pulled ahead. You pressed the accelerator harder, your tires squealing in protest as you sped up, until the only thing left in the rearview was darkness.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you pulled into a shadowy driveway, cutting the engine. Silence enveloped you like a soft cocoon, broken only by your ragged breathing. The adrenaline that had fueled you moments ago drained from your body, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion. Leaning back in your seat, you closed your eyes, trying to steady your breath.

“Goodness gracious,” you whispered, letting the words slip into the stillness. Your hands slid down your face, trying to gather your thoughts and regain composure.

With a resigned sigh, you pulled out your phone and sent a quick text to EJ.

you: You good?

Almost immediately, your phone buzzed with a reply.

emani janae🤞🏾: Yeah, I’m straight. We’re just chilling back at my place. Come through when you’re done being all miss mysterious.

you: Trust, I’mma be there. I just need to get ready first.

emani janae🤞🏾: For?🤨

Read at 1:24 AM

You shook your head, a chuckle escaping your lips. Of course, EJ was already back home, probably making fun of you with Zoe. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you contemplated responding. Instead, you pulled the keys out of the ignition and walked up the driveway, the cool night air brushing against your skin.

As you entered your house, you kicked off your shoes and flicked on the lights, rushing straight to your bedroom. The scent of cashmere and vanilla enveloped the air, a comforting reminder that you had tidied up before you left. You quickly headed to the connected bathroom, turning on the shower to let the water heat up before returning to your room.

After rifling through your clothes, you settled on an old graphic tee and a pair of comfy shorts. The soft hum of music filtered through the air as you tied your hair up and hopped into the shower, slipping into your familiar routine.

The room around Zoe buzzed with fragmented flashes of color and sound—bright bursts of a game show, the low murmur of a news anchor, the explosive chaos of an action movie. None of it captivated her attention. Zoe’s thumb tapped impatiently on the remote, flicking through channels like shuffling a deck of cards. Each scene dissolved into the next before she could even focus, leaving her feeling disconnected, craving something to latch onto.

Billie lounged on the couch, limbs sprawled out as she leaned her head against Zoe’s shoulder, letting out a long sigh as she watched and waited. Her mind buzzed with boredom while she waited for you to arrive. Heart still thrumming with adrenaline from tonight’s events, she reflected on how close she had been to not coming out at all, too consumed by her work. But the moment she stepped into the crowd, all that stress faded away.

The way the cars swerved and drifted sent an electrifying thrill coursing through her veins. But when the race ended and you emerged from your vehicle, all her worries evaporated like the smoke that lingered in the air.

How the streaks of grey and purple danced across your face, a captivating sight. The streetlights illuminated your lips, gloss shimmering against your soft skin as you flashed her a sly smile.

Hi, Billie.

She remembered how your voice flowed like honey when you called out to her. She could still smell the faint remnants of weed mingling with the warm vanilla scent that radiated off you.

A smile crept across her face as she continued to reminisce about you. Coming out of her daze, her eyes roamed around the room, taking in the space. Picture frames filled the walls, frozen moments encased in glossy prints. Scattered items dotted the surface until her gaze landed on a clock.

1:43

A groan escaped her lips as she read it. Almost 2 AM, and you still weren’t here. Her lips pushed into a dramatic pout, voice rising in a soft plea. “Zoe…” she dragged out your best friend’s name, eyes pleading, teetering on the edge of desperation. Zoe cast a quick glance her way before doing a double take.

“Oh my god, no, you do it.” With a resigned sigh, Zoe decided to give in, settling on a random education channel. Images of paint and canvas flashed on the screen before panning out to a pale man with a red afro.

“Bob Ross…really?” At this, Zoe shrugged and walked to the kitchen, Billie trailing closely behind. Billie leaned against the marble island, watching as Zoe rummaged through various cabinets, seemingly on a quest for snacks.

“Can’t you at least just text her or something?” she asked, tapping her knuckles against the smooth surface, the silver rings clashing with the cold marble as Zoe turned to her, a bag of Takis in hand.

“Can’t you just text her? No, you do it; you have her number.” She tilted the bag, silently offering Billie some. Billie stepped closer, pressing her back against the island as she took a handful of chips.

“But like I’m scared… What if I seem desperate?”

“Scared of what? I promise you, your girlfriend’s not going to care; she’s chill as fuck, so just do it.” A warm flush crept up Billie’s neck, spreading across her cheeks at the name. “Shut up,” she muttered, rolling her eyes, trying hard to keep a smile from breaking through as she playfully shoved Zoe’s shoulder.

“Ohhh my god, can you just do it, please? As my best friend, I’ll love you forever.”

“You’re already supposed to do that, but whatever.” Fishing into her pocket, Zoe withdrew her phone, the screen lighting up as she unlocked it and pressed on your contact. Billie sidled up next to her, peering at the bright screen.

zoe📸: Hey, you still coming over?

Your phone buzzed in your hand as you slipped on your fuzzy slides and made your way to your car, opening it to see a new message from Zoe.

you: Yeah, omw now.

you: Why, wassup?

Billie watched as her best friend immediately started to text back, fingers tapping on the blue arrow, sending a new message before catching what it said.

Your phone buzzed once again as it sat in the cup holder. Quickly glancing down with practiced ease, you managed to catch a glimpse of the preview message on your lock screen.

zoe📸: Nothing, Billie just—

You reached for it, taking stray glances at the road ahead, unlocking your phone. But by the time you opened the chat, it had vanished, replaced with:

zoe📸 unsent a message.

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you wondered what had just been deleted. In response, you sent a final message back.

you: Huh?

you: ???

Delivered

The two friends exchanged wide-eyed glances, processing what had just transpired. Billie had panicked, snatching the phone to delete the text before you could see it.

“Dude, what the actual fuck?” Zoe let out a quiet laugh, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Billie’s gaze was glued to the phone, her heart racing as it chimed with your double texts. Fighting against her impulse to respond, she flipped the phone face down on the counter, choosing instead to breathe deeply and calm the wave of panic that was beginning to swell inside her.

“Why the fuck would you say that?” she finally managed to ask, her voice edged with disbelief.

“It’s true, is it not?” Zoe grabbed her phone from the counter and slipped it into her pocket as she headed back into the living room.

“I swear you hate me,” Billie groaned under her breath, watching Zoe walk away. A rough sigh escaped her lips as she slouched against the island, silently praying you hadn’t caught the message.

The faint creak of footsteps echoed down the stairs, growing closer with each soft patter until the familiar jangle of jewelry announced EJ’s arrival. Notes of cherry and jasmine wafted through the air, catching Billie’s attention.

“Please don’t piss me off right now,” Billie heard EJ say as she stepped aside, allowing you to come into view.

“What?” Your brows arched in confusion at the girl in front of you.

“I know you weren’t just talking about some ‘oh, I gotta go home and change and blah blah blah,’ while you’re wearing the most basic fit,” EJ teased, her voice rising a few pitches as she mockingly mimicked you.

“So?” you shrugged her shoulders, kicking off your shoes and setting them by the doorway. “So? You know what…bye, ’cause I’m not even—” You watched as EJ turned her back, making a right turn and disappearing into the kitchen, frustration radiating from her retreat.

You turned to the mirror on your left, checking yourself out. You hadn’t put much effort into your outfit, not expecting to need to dress up. “What is it, bad?” you muttered softly, picking at your clothes.

“Hey!” A small gasp escaped your lips as a voice sliced through the quiet. You hadn’t even realized they were standing so close. Her voice was the one you’d been thinking about all night, and a soft laugh escaped her lips as her blue eyes met yours in the mirror. Spinning around to face her, you cracked a smile, her laughter so infectious that it was hard not to return it. “Hey” you said in response, playfully rolling your eyes at yourself.

“So…that was really something, huh?”

“What, the race?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

She let out a soft “mhmm,” head bobbing slightly in a light nod.

“I mean, it happens…are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” she reassured you, trying to shake off the adrenaline that still coursed through her veins. “But what about you? That was…intense.”

“I’m used to it.” You shrugged, remembering the countless raids you’ve endured since you learned to race. Cops were just people you learned not to fear as long as you knew what you were doing and laid low. EJ emerged from the kitchen, stepping in between the two of you.

“Can you go get some food? I forgot to ask you to get something, and I don’t feel like going out,” she said, annoyance creeping into her voice. You smacked your lips against your teeth in irritation as you grabbed your keys and started to put your shoes back on.

“Fine, but I hope you know you’re putting gas in my tank for the next two days.” Pressing the button, you unlocked your car.

Suddenly, Billie piped up, “I’ll go with you…if you want me to, that is.”

“Kay’, I’ll be waiting, but you’re driving; I’m tired.” You tossed her the keys with a flick of your wrist and bolted toward your vehicle, the cold rain falling against the bare skin of your legs as you slid into the passenger seat. You hurried to turn on the heat, shivering slightly. Damn, I should’ve worn my pants, you thought to yourself

A low, rhythmic hum filled the car as your phone vibrated with subtle urgency in the cup holder where you’d left it. Stretching out your hand, your fingers brushed against the cool edges of the phone as you picked it up. Leaning your head against the window, rain and condensation clouded the glass, the light of your screen casting a soft glow that reflected off your face as your eyes adjusted.

4 new messages from Nia💞

Your thumb scrolled through your notifications as you immediately began to reply back.

The dull interior lights flickered on as the door opened with a chime. Glancing up from your phone, you saw a shivering Billie sitting before you, inhaling deeply through her nose as she attempted to steady her breathing. You swiftly switched off your phone and placed it back in the cup holder, your hand reaching smoothly from the passenger seat to lightly brush the console, deftly pressing for the heating. You turned her air vent closer to you, a small gesture that didn’t go unnoticed.

“Thanks,” Billie said quietly as she tied her hair up in a messy ponytail before relaxing into her seat, the heat creeping up her arms and providing her with much-needed warmth.

The melody of End by Frank Ocean flowed through the car, breaking the slight awkward tension that hung in the atmosphere. Billie quietly hummed along, finally gathering herself.

“So, where am I going?” The engine purred to life as her fingers pressed on the push-start ignition. Her calloused fingers wrapped around the wheel, the cool metal of her rings rubbing against the black leather. Her face lit up, eyes wide and lips curling into a grin as the external lavender lights illuminated the streets before her when she pressed down on the gas and revved the engine.

You couldn’t help but be in awe at the sight, the way she marveled over the car’s little decals. It was undeniably cute. “You’re gonna pull out and make a left over here.” You pointed out as she reached for the gear, shifting into drive. For what felt like the millionth time that night, your phone started going off with notifications even after you switched it to Do Not Disturb. Trying your best to ignore it, you leaned over, turning up the volume on the stereo as it transitioned into another song.

“Are you gonna get that?” Billie asked, glancing at you before returning her focus to the road.

“Nah, it’s just some…family stuff.” A rough sigh escaped your lips as you rubbed your temple, silently hoping she wouldn’t press further. You leaned back into your seat, watching raindrops race down the glass, and listened to the soft music, occasionally giving her directions until she turned into the parking lot of a diner.

Twisting in your chair, you reached for something in the backseat of your car. As your arm stretched, your shirt lifted just enough to reveal the soft curve of your waist. Black ink lined your hip, swirls of plumeria flowers and other intricate designs etched into your skin, disappearing upwards, the rest concealed by your top.

From the driver’s seat, Billie’s gaze flicked down, caught off guard by the unexpected glimpse. Her heart skipped a beat as she traced the edges of the tattoo, her mind racing to figure out what it was without seeming too obvious. She forced herself to look away, feeling her cheeks flush, but her eyes kept drifting back, lingering on the exposed skin until you finally settled back into your seat with two hoodies in hand.

“Girl, are you okay?” Genuine concern laced your voice as you noticed the blush on her cheeks.

“Yeah…yeah, thanks,” she replied, her face burning even more as she accepted the black zip-up from you. The scent that belonged to you lingered on the jacket, notes of neroli, vanilla, and amber embracing her senses as she shrugged it on while you slipped your own hoodie over your torso, pulling the hood up over your head.

Both of you climbed out of the car and dashed into the pouring rain, making a beeline for the entrance of the little diner.

It had a vintage charm, rows of worn leather booths in deep red shades, giving each table a cozy look, as if they’d held countless late-night conversations over the years. Behind the counter, the neon glow of an old sign buzzed faintly, casting a warm, comforting light across the room, though it flickered from time to time.

The diner was fairly empty, save for a few patrons scattered about—a couple at the bar nursing drinks while another sat in a booth, indulging in whatever hot meal had been placed before them.

Fluorescent overhead lights cast a soft but somewhat washed-out glow over everything, adding to the sense of isolation. The walls were lined with mirrors and framed photos, relics of nostalgia. The faint hum of the grill could be heard, alongside the clinking of dishes from behind the counter—a steady rhythm that filled the silence between conversations. The air was thick with the scents of coffee, fried food, and something sweet, reminiscent of pies baked earlier in the day.

Your feet moved under you, guiding you to the counter you’d touched countless times before. The tip of your acrylics played with the cracks and grooves embedded into the smooth mahogany wood. The cashier took your long order and informed you it would be about a forty five-minute wait. You both decided to slide into a random booth across from each other. The moonlight streamed through the large window, highlighting the droplets of rain that clung to the glass.

“So tell me…” Billie adjusted in her seat, her curiosity evident as she spoke up.

“Tell you what?” you replied, glancing at her with a hint of confusion.

“How the hell did you get involved in street racing?” Her elbows rested on the tabletop, hands folding into one another as she laid her head on top, her blue eyes watching you intently. You noticed how her gaze made your body briefly tense before you turned your head to face her.

“Really?” you asked, surprised by her interest. She nodded, her head tilting slightly, cheek resting against her cold rings.

“My older brother… he taught me everything I know.” You pulled the hood from off your head, hair framing your face, snuggling a little tighter in the jacket as the memory began to unfold. “When I was about twelve or thirteen, I caught him trying to sneak out one night. I told him I would snitch if he didn’t take me with him—” Billie watched, her eyes lighting up as you recounted the story. A small smile played on your lips at the memory, and she scooted closer, hanging on every word.

“I remember us pulling up into the lot, and there were all these different kinds of people and sporty ass cars. I thought my brother was so cool…” you breathed out, your fingertips tapping lightly against the table. “Then the race started, and he was driving at speeds I didn’t even know were possible. You never forget the feeling of your first show, and you never forget the adrenaline of your first race. It made me feel…” You bit your bottom lip in thought, trying to find the right words to convey your feelings.

“—alive. I truly had fun that night, and I wanted to keep feeling that way, so I started racing with him.”

Billie smiled to herself, imagining a younger version of you, wide-eyed and eager, learning how to drive. “He sounds cool as fuck,” she said, her admiration clear.

“Yeah, he was…”

Billie’s eyes flickered to your solemn expression, her own softening with empathy. Reaching across the table, she took your hand in her own, her touch gentle. You noticed the intricate details of the angel tattoos etched into her skin that you hadn’t seen before, and how soothing it felt when her thumb rubbed the back of your hand. That simple gesture was enough to convey her own sorrows, a silent understanding passing between you.

A waiter approached with a complimentary basket of fries, sliding it toward the two of you. You both delivered brief thanks, the scent of the golden fries wafting through the air.

“Anyways, enough of the sad stuff. There’s something I wanted to ask you,” you said, shifting the mood back to lightheartedness.

“Yeah?” Billie picked up a fry and nibbled on it slowly, her hand still holding yours, maintaining eye contact.

“Well, if you’re interested in tonight’s race, there’s a car show in a couple of weeks. I’ll be speaking, and I was hoping you could come.”

“Yeah, I’d really like that,” she replied, her enthusiasm evident.

Relief washed over you at her response, the weight lifting off your shoulders. “Okay, cool. Now enough about me, let’s talk about you.”

And for the rest of the night, you two talked for what felt like hours, conversations flowing easily as you shared stories and laughter. The atmosphere felt warm and inviting, the outside rain creating a comforting backdrop to your connection. Finally, your name was called, and you picked up your order, the heavy rain seeping through your clothes once more, chilling your skin as you headed back to your car.

As the neon lights from the diner flickered in the wet streets, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this night would etch itself into your memory, a turning point in the chaotic journey of your life.

tag list 🏷️: @dandelions4us @machetegirl109 @brat-at-the-disco @madisonbeerssecretwife @billiesrighthand @bilsdillldough @chocolatetigerpersona @hkkuugu @evermorewest @hannahluvsbillie

[joaniscruzing]

sailor song - part 1 - e.w.

I am so glad to be writing a series again you guys! Heads up though, I am in school now, so I do need to focus on my studies, which means I can't crank out chapters once a day like I used to!

Y'all. I love Jackson Ellie. I legit have a Halloween costume of this on standby.

Summary: Mostly exposition, reader meets Ellie after a lot of staring from afar.

Warnings: Talks of religion

A/N: I'm trying to set this on after the events of TLOU II. In my head, I always feel like Ellie went back to Jackson and tried to start over and forget everything. I feel like she'd try to better herself, especially after literally losing everything. Also, let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the next chapter.

⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱⋰

In Jackson, you normally went on about your day. You would wake up, pray, have the occasional outing, go on patrol, and then go back to your abode, where you would sleep. You always noticed Ellie though. Her presence, full of light, darkening as time passed, always penetrated your carelessness towards any outside happenings–or people.

You liked how Ellie carried herself, confident, and taking no shit from nobody. However, you also knew of Ellie’s sexuality, which, in your books, was a sin. While you would typically disregard sinners, there was just something about Ellie that drew you in. You didn’t know if it was the two pools of green mystery that were her eyes, or her low, but enchanting voice. Sometimes you would look from afar, watching her laugh as she smoked her joint and coughed, wondering if you and her would ever cross paths in the future. You presumed that she was too cool for you, too rebellious. In fact, you thought that in a normal world, she’d be a celebrity, as famous as Anne Hathaway, an actress from a movie you had loved watching during the movie nights in Jackson as a little kid, The Princess Diaries.

You didn’t know why you were religious, you supposed that it was a way for you to make some sense of the situation around you. After all, you could sum up this apocalypse as just part of God’s plan; and you wouldn’t have to overthink about the issues that came from it and the harshness of the situation. That aside, you wore the cross necklace you found one day while exploring some abandoned building out of boredom proudly and constantly. You read your bible every night, in hopes that maybe it would help you understand your circumstances, and in hopes that there would be a heaven for you to go to in the future.

One day though, after a rather sleepless night, you found yourself heading into town for coffee, looking rather disheveled. You were so tired, in fact, that you didn’t realize that your coffee was sloshing all around in its cup, and getting all over you.

“Hey!” Ellie called, running behind you.

“Huh?” you replied wearily, snapping out of it immediately when you realized who it was. Crap. It’s Ellie Williams.

“Hey, uh, you seem like you shouldn’t be running back to your house with burning hot coffee. Why don’t you come over here for a bit and drink it?”

“Oh, I didn’t realize that the coffee had gotten all over me. Please excuse my appearance,” you reply embarrassedly, “I’m fine though, thank you for the offer.”

“Then I’ll go with you to your house then.”

“Okay, didn’t realize you’re into stalking.”

“I’m into a lot more than just stalking” 

Your cheeks burn like hot coals. “I suppose I can drink some coffee with you.”

“Alright then. Should we go back to your house?”

“No, no, we can drink some coffee at that table over there.”

“Are you hiding something?” You look her in the eyes. You sense a twinge of skeptical energy coming from her, which, per the rumors you heard, was never a good sign.

“No! My house just isn’t clean right now.”

With that, you and Ellie sit down and you drink your coffee.

“Do you want me to get you some?”

“Oh fuck no, I’ve always hated coffee.”

[redroomreflections]

II HANDS II HEAVEN 3

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

3/5 (even though we know it's more than likely this will be longer)

Summary: Natasha Romanoff and Reader reluctantly team up for a couples retreat mission. Despite initial resistance, they find themselves drawn together by unexpected circumstances and shared experiences.

Word Count: 3.8k words

Natasha's eyes fluttered open, her body drenched in a hot sweat. A dull ache pulsed through her left shoulder as she instinctively reached out to the headboard for support. Rubbing her shoulder, she squinted at the dim glow of the old alarm clock resting on the nightstand between the double beds. The numbers indicated it was just 11 pm—she hadn't been asleep for long.

As Natasha tried to shake off the grogginess of sleep, she realized something felt off. The hot sweat clinging to her skin and the soreness in her shoulder give her an uneasy feeling. She leaned over in bed, adjusting her eyes to the nightlight to see your covers were thrown back with no sight of you at all. Interesting. She figured you couldn’t have gone too far. You didn’t need a babysitter or someone watching over your shoulder. You’re a skilled spy just as she is. There was no need for her to worry. 

With a sigh, Natasha swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up, running a hand through her damp hair. She knew she wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep easily now, not with that nagging feeling gnawing at her mind. She decided to get up, maybe a glass of water or a short walk around the building would help clear her head.

But as she stood, her gaze fell on the window. Her curiosity got the best of her as she moved closer to the window. She noticed a small figure seated by the poolside, an unusual sight considering it was late at night and the pool area was closed. Squinting, Natasha observed an even smaller flicker of light coming from the person's lips—a cigarette. It’s you. How long had you been down there?

—-----------------

The peacefulness of the night enveloped you as you sat by the pool, the soft glow of the pool lights casting eerie shadows that distorted the shapes of the surroundings. With one hand propped on your knee, you idly kicked your toes into the water, feeling the gentle waves ripple beneath your feet. The pull of the cigarette between your lips offered a momentary calm as your mind wandered.

Thoughts swirled in your head—about the mission, about your time as an Avenger, about the mysterious meaning of life's purpose.

"Couldn't sleep?" Natasha's voice broke the silence as she approached, her footsteps barely audible except for the faint shuffle of her flip-flops against the damp concrete.

"Nah, I don't usually," You replied, exhaling a stream of smoke into the night air as you took another puff of the cigarette. Tilting your head back, you watched as the smoke dispersed in the wind.

"Did I wake you when I left?" You asked. You pressed the cigarette into the concrete before twirling it in your hands. 

“No,” Natasha said. 

"Good," You nodded, acknowledging Natasha's unspoken disapproval at the sight and smell of the cigarette. "Don't worry, I threw the pack away," you reassured her, hoping to alleviate any concerns she might have about your habits. 

Natasha offered a small, understanding smile. "Thanks," she said softly, appreciating the gesture. Despite her reservations about the habit, she knew you were making an effort, and that meant a lot to her. At least she knew she could trust you to be professional about this mission. 

“I’ve been on missions before,” You confessed quietly. 

"I know," Natasha replied, her tone gentle yet firm. "But that doesn't mean it's easy every time. We all have our ways of coping." 

“Why are you being so cool all of a sudden?” You turned to her with suspicious eyes. “Less than eight hours ago you practically hated my guts. You’ve barely even looked my way the past three months.”

Natasha sighed, her expression softening. "I know, and I'm sorry," she admitted, meeting your gaze with honesty. "Sometimes it takes a wake-up call to realize we need to set aside differences and support each other. We're a team, after all." She paused, searching for the right words. "I guess I just realized that life's too short for grudges, especially in our line of work."

“Grudges are what fuel me,” You shrugged. “I have a few people on my list that certainly deserve that.” 

Natasha nodded, understanding the sentiment. "I get it," she replied. 

Natasha settled herself beside you, maintaining a comfortable distance, yet close enough to feel the subtle ripples of the water as she dipped her feet in. There was a quiet understanding between you, as neither of you had anything left to say. 

“My favorite position is cowgirl,” You suddenly said. “Not for me for the other person.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow at the unexpected comment, her expression a mix of surprise and amusement. She chuckled softly before replying, "Well, that's certainly... a candid confession." She shook her head with a playful grin. "I'll remember that, though I'm not sure it's pertinent to our current situation."

“It is,” You glanced over at her. “We’ll probably be one of the only lesbian couples. Which means weird fetishizations and probing questions. Maybe even a game of truth or drink. Adults at resorts are unhinged.” 

"You might have a point there," She conceded. “Give me the rundown on the dossier.”

You took a deep breath before launching into the details of the dossier. "Alright," you begin, "Shady Corners, as the name suggests, is a high-end resort nestled just outside of Miami in the Bay Harbor Islands. It’s owned by, Ilanka and Maxim Belinsky, it's known for catering to the elite, offering luxurious amenities and discreet services."

You leaned in closer, your voice lowering as you delved into the more clandestine aspects. "There’s a darker side to Shady Corners which is the entire reason for us. Rumors about the Belinskys' involvement in illicit activities, from money laundering to connections with underground cartels."

"Apparently," you continue, "guests have reported strange occurrences in the resort's secluded corners—mysterious meetings, people disappearing, and several break-ins, all hushed up by the Belinskys themselves. Couples keep checking in since it’s such a popular destination with a history behind it."

Natasha listened intently, her eyes narrowing as she took in the information. "Sounds like we've got our work cut out for us," she remarked. 

“Indeed we do,” You sighed. “We should get some sleep.” 

“I’m fine with staying here a little while longer.” 

You nodded in understanding. "Alright," you replied. 

Hour 12 

A few short hours later, you found yourselves back on the road, with you taking the wheel this time. Natasha's unease was noticeable as you bobbed and weaved through the traffic, your driving style more assertive than she was used to. With each swift maneuver to pass SUVs and trailers, Natasha's grip tightened on the door handle, her knuckles turning white with tension. 

You couldn't help but notice her discomfort, and though you tried to reassure her that you had everything under control, her nerves seemed to get the better of her. 

“Do you understand speed limits?” She tersely asked as you stepped on the pedal a bit harder. 

You glanced over at Natasha, noticing the edge in her tone as she asked about speed limits. Despite her brevity, you couldn't help but feel amusement at her concern. "Of course I do," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant as you stepped on the pedal a bit harder. "But sometimes, you just gotta keep up with the flow of traffic, you know?" 

Natasha's grip on the door handle tightened even more, and she shot you a disapproving look. "That's not an excuse to break the law," she retorted, her voice filled with frustration. "We have to be responsible drivers, especially on long trips like this."

You rolled your eyes, feeling a bit annoyed by her lecturing. "Relax, Natasha," You said "We'll get there in one piece, I promise." 

“I would like to live to see thirty,” Natasha commented, tightening her seatbelt around her midsection. 

“No way you’re being truthful about your age right now,” You flicked on your indicator, laying on the horn for the driver in front of you as they moved at a turtle’s pace. 

You could sense Natasha's annoyance as she defended her age, her frown deepening. "I'm twenty-nine," She stated firmly. "Do I need to show you a birth certificate to confirm that? What makes you think I'm older?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing on your lips. "Relax, Natasha," You teased. "I was just saying, you seem a bit uptight for someone your age. But hey, maybe that's just part of your charm." 

Natasha rolled her eyes, unamused by your comment. "Gee, thanks," she muttered sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest. It was clear she wasn't in the mood for jokes. “I’m far from uptight.”

You furrowed your brow, considering her words for a moment. "Well, since you're so sure, let's take a little trip down memory lane, shall we?" you challenged. 

"Remember when we missed that turnoff and you practically had a meltdown?" you began, counting off on your fingers. "Or how about when I accidentally spilled coffee on the map and you acted like it was the end of the world? It is crazy that we’re using a map anyway when there’s a perfectly good GPS right here on the dashboard. Unless you’re testing me. I thought you trusted that I was a good spy."

“Trust is a strong word,” Natasha shook her head. “What’s that training like anyway? Coming through a government agency.” 

"It's... intense," You replied, your tone guarded as you skirted around the topic. "But it's nothing like the Red Room if that's what you're thinking."

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, not wanting to delve too deep into your past. The memories of your training were still fresh in your mind, and you preferred not to think about them. "Let's just say it involves a lot of rigorous training and a fair share of close calls," you added cryptically, hoping to steer the conversation away from your own experiences.

“A close enough call to have a four-inch scar on your back?” Natasha tilted her head. 

You paused for a moment, caught off guard by Natasha's astute observation. "Well, you've got quite the eye for detail," you replied with a forced chuckle, trying to deflect her question. You shifted in your seat, a hint of discomfort creeping into your expression. "Unless you’re also ready to discuss the scars you have too?” 

“Touche’,” Natasha sighed. 

You raised an eyebrow, shifting the focus of the conversation with a swift change of topic. "So are you and Rogers a thing?" you asked, a sly grin spreading across your face. If there was going to be anyone in the hot seat, it needed to be her. It was about time you made the Black Widow uncomfortable.

Natasha's expression remained neutral. She paused for a moment, considering her response carefully before replying, "Steve and I have a professional relationship, nothing more."

You pressed on, determined to push her buttons. "Sure, sure," you teased, leaning in slightly. "But I've seen the way you two look at each other. There's definitely something more there."

Natasha's facade faltered for just a moment, a little bit of frustration crossing her features before she quickly regained her composure. "Believe what you want," she replied coolly, her tone leaving no room for further discussion on the matter. 

“Come on, it’s okay to say you’ve tapped that,” You egged her on. “Stop being so prissy for a second. It’s unbecoming.” 

Natasha's jaw tensed as she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at your persistence. "I don't see how my personal life is any of your business," she replied sharply, her tone tinged with irritation. "And I certainly don't appreciate your crude insinuations."

You could sense her growing frustration, but you pressed on, determined to get a rise out of her. "Oh, come on, lighten up," you teased, leaning in closer. "It's not like anyone would blame you for going for the Captain. He's like the poster boy for good looks and heroism."

Natasha's gaze narrowed, her patience wearing thin. "I suggest you drop it before you say something you'll regret," she warned, her voice low and measured. It was clear she had reached her limit. 

“Ohh, I’m shaking in my boots,” You rolled your eyes. “At first the pressure was on me. Be more like Natasha. Take notes from Natasha. Ask Natasha for help. We can't even hold a simple conversation.” 

Natasha's jaw tightened at your sarcastic remark, her frustration is evident in her expression. "I never asked for you to be like me," she retorted, her tone clipped. "And if you're feeling pressured, that's on you, not me."

You could sense the tension between you escalating, and you knew you had hit a nerve. But instead of backing down, you continued to push, fueled by a mix of defiance and annoyance. "Oh, please," you scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Don't act like you haven't enjoyed being put on that pedestal. It's not like you haven't reveled in being everyone's golden girl."

Natasha's eyes flashed with annoyance, her patience wearing thin. "That's enough," she stated firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument. "I won't be dragged into your petty games. If you have a problem with me, say it to my face instead of hiding behind snide remarks." 

“I don’t have a problem with you,” You began. “It’s the simple fact that you’re committed to this whole mean girl serious chick schtick. You’ve insulted me fifteen times this morning without holding your breath or thinking about it. I simply want to know what’s up. So I’m asking? Last night we were cool. This morning it’s giving me an entirely new personality.”

“So, to get back at me you imply that I’m sleeping with my teammate?”

The accusation hung in the air, heavy with tension, as Natasha processed your words. 

"Implying? No," You retorted. "I merely observed a dynamic between teammates. If you took it as an insult, that's on you."

“I think you’re jealous,” Natasha commented. 

Your response was swift, fueled by a mixture of frustration and defiance. "Jealous?" you echoed incredulously, a flash of indignation in your eyes. "Of what, exactly?" Natasha's comment caught you off guard, the accusation striking a nerve. "I'm not jealous," you countered, your voice tinged with irritation. "I just don't appreciate being undermined and belittled at every turn."

There was a tense silence between you, the air thick with unspoken tension. Natasha's expression remained impassive, but there was a glimmer of challenge in her eyes, daring you to continue the confrontation.

“Jealous of that fact that I was welcomed into the group based on merit and skills alone,” Natasha gloated. “I didn’t need my government daddy to put a word in for me.” 

Natasha's words stung, hitting a nerve deep within you. You clenched your jaw, struggling to maintain your composure in the face of her taunting.

"Merit and skills alone, huh?" you replied through gritted teeth, your tone laced with bitterness. "Funny, considering the lengths you've gone to to prove yourself at every turn."

But you swallowed your pride, forcing yourself to remain calm despite the urge to lash out. With a tight-lipped smile, you met Natasha's gaze head-on, refusing to let her see how deeply her words had wounded you.

"Congratulations," You replied tersely, your voice cold and clipped. "I'm glad you're so proud of yourself. Now let's focus on the task at hand, shall we?"

The silence went on for a few seconds longer before you scrunched your nose. 

“And government Daddy?” You frowned. “Who the hell do you think is my dad?”

Natasha's expression remained impassive, her gaze steady as she delivered her next words with a calculated calmness. "I don't know," she replied evenly, "but I wouldn't be surprised if it's someone like Ross."

The mention of Ross's name sent a chill down your spine, stirring up memories of past encounters and the uneasy alliance you had with him. Despite your best efforts to distance yourself from him, his shadow seemed to loom over you like a specter, a constant reminder of the ties that bound you to the government.

“Holy Fuck,” You clenched your fists, struggling to contain the anger bubbling within you. "Ross?" you scoffed, your tone dripping with disdain. "He's nothing but a manipulative bureaucrat with his own agenda. I have no ties to him, and I certainly don't need him to vouch for me."

“Why is his name riddled all over your file then?” 

You felt a knot form in your stomach at Natasha's question, a sinking feeling settling in as you grappled with how much she knew about your past. "I... I don't know," you replied, your voice strained with uncertainty. "Maybe it's just... paperwork. I've had dealings with him in the past, but that doesn't mean he's my... my father."

Despite your attempt to brush off the implications, Natasha's piercing gaze bore into you, her scrutiny unrelenting. "You can't just dismiss it like that," she insisted, her tone firm. "There's a reason his name keeps popping up in your file."

You shook your head firmly, dispelling any notion of familial ties between you and Ross. "No, not because we're related," you asserted, your voice resolute. "I've made it clear before—I have no familial connection to Ross."

Natasha regarded you with a scrutinizing gaze, her expression unreadable. "Then why is his name so intertwined with your file?" she pressed, her tone insistent.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for Natasha's reaction to your explanation. "Spectra was deeply connected with the CIA," you began, your voice steady despite the lingering frustration. "Ross helped me out with some intel. Nothing more. Nothing less."

Natasha regarded you with a thoughtful expression, her gaze probing as she considered your words. "Is that all it was?" she asked, her tone cautious. "Or was it part of a larger plan to spy on the Avengers?"

You shook your head, the weight of Natasha's suspicion weighing heavily on you. "No," you replied firmly, meeting her gaze head-on. "I would never betray the team like that. Ross may have his own agenda, but I'm not a pawn in his game."

As Natasha continued to scrutinize you, a glimmer of realization crossed her features. "So what's the deal?" she asked, her voice softening slightly as she searched your eyes for the truth. "You're not exactly the type to strike up a deal with Ross without a good reason."

"It's complicated," You admitted. "But after Spectra's downfall, I was left vulnerable. Ross and Tony offered me protection, a way to defect from the shadows and start fresh."

Natasha's brow furrowed in understanding, though there was a hint of skepticism in her expression. "And what do they get out of it?" she pressed, her tone cautious.

You sighed heavily, knowing that Natasha wouldn't let up until she had all the answers. "Information," you confessed, the weight of your betrayal heavy on your conscience. "About Spectra.” 

There was a moment of silence as Natasha processed your words, the gravity of your situation settling over you like a suffocating blanket. 

“You’re an informant?” Natasha breathed. She knew it. She couldn’t believe this. 

You nodded solemnly, meeting Natasha's gaze with a heavy heart. "Yes," you admitted, the weight of your confession hanging in the air like a dark cloud. "I'm an informant."

Natasha's breath caught in her throat, her disbelief palpable as she struggled to come to terms with the revelation. "I knew it," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“Thank you, Kim Possible for knowing it all,” You rolled your eyes. 

“Who’s Kim Possible?” 

“And you’re still telling me you’re under thirty,” You mumbled. You rolled your eyes at Natasha's response, unable to resist a sarcastic retort

You couldn't help but chuckle at her bewilderment. "She's a fictional character from an old cartoon," you explained. "Always saving the day and solving mysteries. Thought you might appreciate the comparison."

“So, you gained immunity for your crimes then in exchange for information?” Natasha deduced. 

“Something like that,” You shrugged. “I’m an Avenger though because of my skills. I could have gone into a witness protection program or something.” 

There was a moment of silence as Natasha absorbed your words, the weight of your choices hanging heavily in the air between you. "I understand," she replied finally, her tone softening with understanding. 

“Do you? Because it seems like you want to use my past against me every chance you get,” You eased up on the accelerator. “I was a teen when I became a pawn for Spectra. They weren’t the cleanest government agency. None of them are. You may have involuntarily joined the Red Room but it’s not like I had much of a choice either. I was a poor kid from Jersey with no money or family. I did what I had to do to survive.” 

“I do understand,” Natasha nodded. 

“Look can we make a deal,” You sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day. “Can we just be cordial? We don’t have to be friends. I’m not expecting us to have sleepovers and braid each other's hair. I would simply like to make this work so that we get what we need out of this mission.” 

Natasha regarded you for a moment, her expression thoughtful as she considered your proposal. After a moment of silence, she nodded slowly. "Agreed," she replied, her voice firm. "Cordial it is."

You offered her a small nod of gratitude, relieved to have reached a truce, however tentative it may be. She reached into the backseat, grabbing something you couldn't see before you realized it was the magazine from yesterday. 

“What is your favorite type of nonsexual physical intimacy and are you satisfied with the frequency you receive it?” 

You blinked in surprise at Natasha's unexpected question, taken aback by its intimacy. For a moment, you were at a loss for words, unsure how to respond to such a personal inquiry.

Clearing your throat, you composed yourself before replying, "Um, well, I guess my favorite type of nonsexual physical intimacy would be... hugs? I suppose?" You offered a hesitant smile, feeling a bit awkward under Natasha's scrutinizing gaze. "I’m not really comfortable with a lot of physical touch. For personal reasons. And as for the frequency... I guess it's alright. I don't really think about it much."

Natasha nodded, her expression unreadable as she tucked the magazine back into its place. "Good to know," she remarked casually, as if she hadn't just asked you one of the most personal questions imaginable.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, feeling a bit exposed by the exchange. But despite the awkwardness, you couldn't help but appreciate Natasha's attempt at breaking down the walls between you, even if it was in her own unconventional way. With a small nod of acknowledgment, you turned your attention back to the road ahead of you.

------> part 4

[planeteroticaaa]

PARADISE

WHY? WHO, ME? WHY?

Vegas is a costly city and desperate times call for desperate measures when your trying to keep a roof over your head and food in your stomach. A waitress at a fancy resturant during the early hours of cool summer nights and the city's best stripper past 12AM, making most of the revenue for the club, but what happens when your #1 fan is the city's rich, infamous drug lord?

“NEED YOU, BABY, LIKE I BREATHE YOU, BABY!”

PROCEED WITH CAUTION! This mini-series contains the following: all types of drugs (serious ones too), guns, violence, death, descriptions of blood/injuries, sex, BDSM and other kinks (nothing too crazy), HEAVY smut and angst, many other illegal acts, clubs/strip clubs, VIVA LAS VEGAS, penthouse living, "good girl gone bad", sukuna is a bad man with a soft spot for you, sukuna still has his marks, but they’re more like tats, falling in love with your "sugar daddy", etcc etcc!

DISCLAIMERS: this series is a random mix of lana del ray songs in no particular order!

TAGS LIST!: Want to know each time erotica post for this series? Sumbit your tumblr username here!

I. YAYO

"I WEAR YOUR SPARKLE, YOU CALL ME YOUR MAMA. LET ME PUT ON A SHOW FOR YOU, DADDY."

It was another night at Planet Erotica. You were trying to make some extra money for your upcoming rent payment only, tonight wasn't really your best night. At least, it wasn’t until you were booked for a private dance by a mysterious man.

II. CARMEN

“IT’S ALARMING, HONESTLY, HOW CHARMING SHE CAN BE. FOOLING EVERYONE, TELLING THEM SHE’S HAVING FUN.”

Sorry, she’s not performing yet. . .

[y3nze1]

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐄 𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆, 𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐍 | c.3

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: I / II / III / IV / V / VI

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: Happy Readings!

"Y/n!~" Loralie called out. purse in hand, she ran towards you, happily approaching, clearly there was an interesting news that she couldn't keep to herself with that kind of energy. "Y/n..!" you cut her off for a moment. "Loralie, if it's a party, i swear i am not willing to hook myself on some hooch, you know tha-" she pressed a finger on your lips. "Shush, this is most likely the party of the century, Y/n!"

You let out a soft chuckle. "You always say that.. and you know my answer. as always.. it's a n-" she cut you off again. With that, you rolled your eyes. "I already bought you an outfit. stop yappin, take a bath. get yourself ready for tonight, so we are gonna cut a rug as i say so!" she exclaimed. crossing your arms as you responded with a sigh.

You could see the excitement on Loralie's face as she spoke of the upcoming party. You couldn't help but feel a little intrigued, wondering what could be in store for the night. Not wanting to disappoint ger, you nodded along, doing as she wanted. "Alright, alright," you said with a groan, giving in to her enthusiasm. "I'll get cleaned up and get ready."

Loralie beamed at you, clearly pleased with your response. She took your hand and led you into the bathroom, helping you with your bath preparations. "Darlin, We gotta make sure you shine, you dazzle, and hotsy totsy!~" she ran the bath, pouring in the things needed to make it purely bubble. As you bathed, you couldn't help but wonder about the mystery event that Loralie had planned for the night. You weren't sure what to expect from then on.

Patted dry, you followed along behind her as she pulled your hand out the bathroom. giggling to herself. "Alright Darlin.. don't you worry. i am goin to make ya' stunnin." she softly gazed at you. sitting you down by the vanity mirror. drying down your hair.

For the next few hours. you spent the day getting ready. a light blush on your cheek, just the right amount of soft mascara. and a beautiful shade of red lipstick, of course. you weren't keen on using makeup, but my goodness, did you look like a shining star for the evening. coming to dazzle upon everyone just once for a span of thousands of years.

As you finished getting ready, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building inside you. Everything was just perfect - the dress, the makeup, the hair... you felt like a princess, like a star, ready to take on the world. And with Loralie by your side, you felt like anything was possible.

Loralie looked just as excited as you were, and as you stood up from the vanity, she handed you a gift-wrapped box. "Well, I might as well give you your present early.." she said with a smile, handing you the box. You opened it up, revealing a beautiful necklace - a silver chain with a beautiful blue jewel at the center. It was the perfect finishing touch to your outfit.

As you put on the necklace, Loralie took your head to the mirror. smiling softly, "Look at that darlin.. do you know what i see?.." you paused for a moment, taking a good look at yourself. "i see beautiful, dashing, wonderful woman.." she sighed, pure satisfied. "oh my, you're there too!" she let out a laugh as you rolled your eyes in annoyance. "oh I'm just teasing, Y/n.. Don't be such a bearcat!~"

Loralie took your hand and led you out of the room, down the stairs and out the door. You stood outside, feeling the cool air on your skin and feeling overwhelmed by the excitement. Loralie ushered you into a waiting car, and soon you were on your way to the mysterious party that Loralie had been planning. The ride was full of anticipation - you had no idea what to expect, but you knew that whatever it was, it was going to be a night to remember.

As the car pulled up to the venue, you could see that it was a sprawling estate, lit up with countless lights and surrounded by an intricate garden. Loralie hopped out of the car and you followed, feeling your heart pound as you approached the front door.

You took a deep breath, ready to face whatever the night had in store. With Loralie by your side, you felt like you could take on the world.

The party was unlike anything you had ever seen. The estate was teeming with people dressed to the nines, sipping on champagne and cocktails, and dancing to the music of a live band. The atmosphere was electric, and you found yourself being drawn into the excitement.

As Loralie pulled you along, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and majesty. The venues, the attire, the people; everything was so elegant and refined. It was a world completely different from the one you were used to.

As you made your way through the crowd, you couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and amazement. The venue was a testament to human ingenuity and creativity, and you found yourself lost in the excitement and beauty of it all. But despite the grandeur and majesty, there was also a sense of warmth and community. The crowd was filled with people of all ages, nationalities, and backgrounds, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves and having a good time. It was a truly international scene.

And through it all, Loralie was by your side. She helped you navigate the crowd and introduced you to various people, helping you make connections and network. The night was full of possibilities and opportunities, and you found yourself feeling more confident and empowered than ever before. As the night wore on, the party only became more and more lively. The music grew louder, the drinks flowed freely, and the dancing grew more wild and frenetic. You couldn't help but feel a sense of freedom and joy, as if you were part of something bigger than yourself.

For a moment you stopped, you stood by the middle of the crowd, catching the look of a young man, staring back at you. The moment felt like a stop motion, You felt a flutter in your chest, that familiar feeling that came over you, nervous, you looked away instead. You looked around the crowd, scanning for Loralie. She was still talking to an array of people, but she caught your glance and motioned for you to come over. You cut through the crowd, avoiding people's drinks and plates with ease, but then you felt someone bumping into you. Before you could turn around to apologize, a soft voice sounded in your ear.

"Watch your step, my dear. You wouldn't want to trip and fall, now do you?" That voice, that particular voice, The voice was deep and melodic, and a pair of warm, brown eyes met yours. You felt like time had stopped on you again, the music was faded and the only thing you could hear was his voice. Finally after a good while of staring, you brushed your shoulders gently and nervously.

"Oh," your voice sounded small and shy compared to his, "no.. no, i-i'm sorry, i didn't look at my surroundings that well." He chuckled, and you felt your heart fluttering. "Well, better watch out next time, my dear." He held out his hand, looking at you deeply, "I'm Alastor, Alastor Altruist."

No, is this actually real? you really are talking to him, face to face. Alastor, the radio man, Your fingers gently wrapped around his, and you smiled shyly, "Pleasure to meet you, Alastor, I'm Y/n, Y/n L/n". Your voice sounded weak, but your smile was bright.

He looked into your eyes, and he leaned in slightly, he out his hand once more, muttering. "would you like to have a dance with me, Ms. Y/n?". You were still processing what was happening when you both started walking towards the center of the floor. Alastor held your hand and his other hand wrapped around your waist as he leaned in closer to you.

The song playing was slow and romantic, and as you both started to sway in time to the beat, you felt a strange sense of calm and serenity wash over you. You couldn't help but notice the way Alastor looked at you - his eyes seemed to pierce right through you. "Your voice, it seems so familiar to me." he whispered, you kept your mouth shut at the moment. not daring to talk back. instead you continued to dance with him. utterly silent. basking in each one's gaze.

You felt like you were the only two people in existence, lost in a world of your own. You closed your eyes and lost yourself in the moment, oblivious to anything else around you. For that brief moment in time, you were perfectly content, perfectly happy. But as the song came to an end, you were suddenly snapped back to reality by the loud applause and cheers of those around you.

You smiled at the sudden outburst of the crowd, giggling. Alastor, turned to you. "Would you like to get a Wiggle on with me? a stroll by the garden nearby, per say?" in response, you nodded. he pulled your hand, leading you through the crowd as you two giggled. You followed Alastor through the large crowded party, the smell of food and alcohol filling the air as you navigated towards the garden. The night air was cool and refreshing, and the sound of the party began to fade into the distance.

As Alastor led you onto a small footpath, you began to notice the beauty of the dark night sky, illuminated by the lights of the city below. The sky was so clear that you could make out the shapes of the galaxies, and the stars seemed so close you felt like you could reach out and touch them.

"Oh, this is quite the view, isn't it?" Alastor said as he sat down on the bench, "I never get tired of this place, it's so peaceful." He pulled a cigarette case out of his pocket, "Do you want a butt, my dear?" he offered one to you. You shook your head no, not staring blankly at the sky.

For a second, you looked down. staring at your feet. "I've heard your radio podcast before." he looked at you, his smile widened. "really?.. then you must also know this frequent requestor of mine, have you?" He's mentioning you. you only nodded back in response. "For a listener, I've never been this.. smitten with this particular girl before. she'd call almost everyday, requesting me songs, non-stop. and.. every time, I'd pick up my telephone. i find myself hoping, she's on the other line."

He paused. looking at you. "I'm rambling, aren't i?" You felt yourself blushing slightly as Alastor continued to speak about you. He was right, you had been obsessed with his radio show for as long as you could remember. You listened to every episode, waiting for your turn to call and request a song.

And now, here you were, sitting next to him, listening to him talk about you. It felt like a dream, like something that could never really be. You smiled wide, feeling your heart race in your chest. "No, no, please continue," you said, your voice soft and barely above a whisper, "I.. i love hearing you talk" then you realized what you said. you let out a cough. "i-i.. mean about.. her, i like hearing.. umm.. you talk about her." He laughed at your attempt, finding it quite endearing. "it's fine, i don't mind. it's nice to meet someone who's very interested in you" You breathed a sigh of relief as Alastor laughed, finding it quite endearing. You were relieved that he didn't think you were weird for accidentally saying that you loved hearing him talk. You felt your face turn bright red, but you couldn't help but smile.

"It's nice to meet someone who's so interested in me too," you said, trying to keep your voice steady, You laughed as well, feeling more at ease. You knew that you were probably coming across as a total loser, but you couldn't help it. Being around Alastor made you feel a way that you couldn't even begin to describe. You felt like you could talk to him forever and never get bored. "You've mentioned this caller of yours. and.. you've striked me curious. She sounds to be quiet.. delightful, in your perspective.. i-i just wanna know.. what would you say to her if.. she were hear, the one listening.. to you."

Alastor paused for a moment, considering your question. "Well, I suppose I would tell her how much her calls mean to me.. And how much I look forward to each and every one.. every single song requests of her" He looked down at you, his face serious. "I would tell her that she's a source of inspiration.. at least.. my inspiration, that she makes me feel like I'm not just a radio host, but something more." He looked back at the sky, breathing in deeply. "I would tell her that she's the most special girl in the world, and that I'm glad i had the chance to even cross my god forsaken path with hers.."

You fell silent, turning to look at him. "So.. what's her name?" you stared at him. he smiled, looking up to the night sky.

"Daisy, My lovely, Darling, Daisy.."

[satuguro]

*ೃ࿐TO FAULT A NET

[ THE EPILOGUE: .. AND KEEP YOUR ENEMIES CLOSER ]

spider-man! ethan landry x black cat! reader

#SYNOPSIS— ethan goes to museums a little too often, you ramble about paintings, and you think ethan sleeps like the dead.

#CONTAINS— enemies to lovers, slowburn, antihero&vigilante reader, familial issues, implication of ptsd, gore, blood, murder, death, reader is overly flirtatious

#AUTHORSNOTE— i'm lowkey emotional that this series is over, thank you all for the continuous support xx

ACT I, ACT II, ACT III, ACT IV, ACT V, EPILOGUE

the museum was bustling with people; to be expected, as it was a saturday. fall hung heavy over new york, teetering between the edge of winter, allowing the leaves to finally fall after they changed to red. a strong gust of cool wind made him tug his jacket closer around his body, shivering to himself as he hurried up the stairs of the metropolitan museum. even after months of living in new york, ethan never truly got used to that.

he murmured soft 'sorry's and 'excuse me's' under his breath as he passed the entry way, walking by the families and students that were walking every which way. during moments like these, he was truly reminded of just how many people live their own separate lives, and he knew that there was a word for it— he just couldn't remember it at the moment.

ethan regretfully hadn't gone into any of new york's museums at all ever since he moved. he couldn't lie and say he wasn't sure why he was here now, only two and a half weeks since everything happened, spending time walking in such a busy area instead of recuperating in his dorm.

he knew why he was here.

and like he always did for four days now, ethan walked towards the painting exhibit. for four days, this had been his routine; travel to the metropolitan museum, walk to the painting exhibit, and stare. and wait. and watch.

he hadn't seen you ever since you were discharged by the hospital. he visited you of course, sitting by the side of your unconscious body, talking to you about your day as though you would respond wittily. but four days ago, ethan showed up like he always did at the hospital and found your bed empty.

he wished he didn't react as panicked as he did. no one had seen you on campus since then, and as much as ethan wanted to visit you at your apartment, he knew you needed time. and while he gave you time, he'd go to your favorite spot and sit there, expecting something that was only a feeling in his gut.

it wasn't the word of his spider senses or his superpowers. it was just plain old ethan going with his instincts.

he sat on his usual bench, setting down his backpack as he sighed. his wounds had healed long ago (the perks of being a superhero), but they left behind prominent scars that ethan hated thinking about. the mere thought of them made them ache as though he was experiencing the pain again.

he didn't like letting his wander nowadays. not when they always wandered to the events in the theatre with his family.

they were horrible people, but they were family nonetheless. even just thinking about them made his faux last name feel heavy on his mind.

the painting ethan always found himself sitting in front of was called the lovers, by rene magritte. there was a small sign right near its plaque, stating how only recently was the painting returned to the museum, as it had been stolen years prior. it was returned by someone anonymous, who had mysteriously left it inside the museum and left without alerting any of the guards or the alarms.

an unexpected hero, they said. and ethan could only smile whenever they referred to your thefts as hero's work.

for four days, ethan had sat there on his bench, watching people walk by and stare at the painting, admiring their clothed heads as they tried to kiss each other. everyone had different interpretations of it. different reactions— it was cute, honestly, to see people be people. to see kids run around the exhibit with their toy dinosaurs and balloons, to see couples point at paintings and judge them freely, to see an old man lean forward to read a plaque that was too small for his poor eyesight. he thought that he needed to see that—all of that —after he witnessed people at their absolute worst. he needed to see that companionship and that connection.

but even in an entire museum full of people, ethan always sat alone. his friends had all offered to go with him, asking if he needed companionship or just someone's presence, but he didn't. he wanted this time alone. both to regain his trust in humanity and to just.. feel everything. to bask in his emotions alone.

and that's what he did. ethan could only stare at the painting of two lovers covered by their own insecurities and secrets, both trying to be with each other yet pushing each other away all at the same time. and he just stared and let the emotions flow past him.

but then he felt someone's presence sit on his bench. people always sat next to ethan during his time in the museum— people just looking for a chat, people who were lonely, old people who just wanted to know young minds —but never, never had their presence felt like this. and his heart jumped slightly at the conclusion that came to his mind.

you sat next to ethan, cold limbs suddenly warmed by his heat as you let out a soft sigh— one that made the pain from your wound twinge at your skin ever so lightly. eyes set on the painting— your painting, the one you had stolen from those people over the summer —you didn't say a word for a minute, and neither did he.

his overheated body was finally cooled off just by the feeling of your skin so close to his. even under his jacket, goosebumps ran over his skin just at your proximity.

"that's the one i stole," you stated, voice slightly hoarse as you stared at it. the lovers, by rene magritte.

ethan nodded. "that's the one you put back."

"after i stole it." there it was— that downturned smile that ethan saw ever so slightly from his peripherals. the one that made you feel more real. more human, and not just black cat. "you almost caught me that night. that was the night we—"

"met." and finally, he turned to look at you. the cut he had bandaged all those days ago had healed over in a scar at the base of your neck. he could see the weakness in your eyes and face, how you didn't seem to have that healthy glow you once did, but you were healing. and that's what mattered. "you look like shit," ethan said, making you look at him with a slight tilt of your head.

"really? i thought you'd like the whole 'i just escaped death' look." you paused for a second, watching as his eyebrows raised. "that was probably too soon."

"it was." he looked back at the painting again, letting silence envelope the both of you. "you look beautiful, y/n." he said softly, so quiet that you swore he was murmuring it to himself, but no, he was speaking to you.

and for once, you couldn't say anything, the genuineness of his tone catching you completely off guard. "you're beautiful too."

a beat of silence.

"how do you interpret it?" ethan suddenly asked you, cheeks burning red as he changed the subject. he nodded at the painting, making you peer at it as though you hadn't studied it before.

"i see," you began, staring at the painting, "two people who love each other but don't truly know each other. like.. they're wearing masks to hide their true selves. their insecurities cover their face and take over every part of them and it makes them completely unknown to each other."

ethan stared at you as you spoke, gaze softening as you spoke so passionately about one of your favorite paintings to him. his heart was practically beating out of his chest, but he had never felt so at home. so comfortable. so content just sitting here in a museum with you as you spoke.

".. and they want each other so much but are so blissfully unaware of.." your words died in your throat as you stared at him, his intent gaze making your words die on the tip of your tongue. ethan was looking at you as though you had made the painting yourself, his eyes dilated as he watched you. and you had seen that stare before, because that was how you looked at him.

and when ethan realized you were staring back at him, his face flushed such a beautiful red before he stared back at the painting. you quickly followed, staring as well and letting silence pass by yet again. a few minutes passed by of just sitting next to each other quietly. listening to the genuine sounds of human love around you in the museum.

“do you wanna go on a walk?” you asked him.

“i’d love to.”

the wind blew by your ears, biting them with cold as you zipped your leather jacket all the way up to your body. the scarf around your neck provided you with more warmth as you walked side by side with ethan.

you were both avoiding saying it; the thing that you oh so desperately needed to say to the other. the few words that felt like a leap of faith the other would surely catch you from. and you both knew you were both far too afraid to take that leap even though you so desperately wanted to.

“can i ask?” you began, curiosity getting the better of you ad you looked at him. “the whole.. spider-man thing..”

ethan tsked at that, nodding with his hands buried deep in his pockets. he hadn't told anyone about how he had even taken up the role of spider-man. it had been something he couldn't confide with in anyone else (not even chad, even though he was the only other person besides you who knew), but to be able to freely talk to you about it made something warm settle in his chest.

“bitten by a spider when i went to a science demonstration when i first moved here. just to get used to living here," ethan sighed, his breath coming out in white steam, "got bitten by a radioactive spider, and the rest is history."

"i noticed those web shooter things when we first met," you hummed, unable to hide your interest. "you made them?"

"yup. maybe i should make them stronger." ethan said with a lopsided smile, looking up ahead of you again. as desperately as he wanted to poke fun at your shared trauma just like you did, he couldn't even bring himself to do more than indirect jokes. it still made his heart ache to think about it all.

gently nudging your arm (all while being careful that it wasn't your injured one), he asked, "and you?"

could you tell him? you swallowed thickly, brows furrowing a little as you mentally prepared yourself to even speak about your past. but you trusted him— more than you trusted anyone.

"take your time," ethan said softly, just like you said to him all those days ago. his patience extended far and beyond for you as he led you to a bench near a lake. he sat down next to you, his arm right up against yours, his warm so strong that you could feel it under your leather jacket.

"my dad," you breathed out, taking your uninjured hand out of your pocket and putting it on your lap. ethan's hand was right next to yours, and the proximity of the skin to skin contact made the hairs on your arms stand up. "my dad was the first black cat. he's dead now, of course, but.." you felt ethan's hand move closer to yours, and you slowly slipped your hand into his.

and it felt right. like it was simply second nature for you to have your hand in his. you intertwined your fingers, his touch so warm and so gentle on your skin that you found your train of thought turning every which way until you saw ethan nod silently for you to continue.

"i took up black cat not only to pay rent and school, but because.. it's one of the last genuine things i have from him." you exhaled shakily. "he left behind jewels and clothes and practically everything materialistic, sure, but black cat showed his effort. his livelihood, and as much as he is a criminal, he was my dad first." the pressure behind your eyes grew, but you prevailed, ignoring the threat of tears. "i don't want people believing that they killed black cat so easily."

you paused. "and it's a really fun job."

ethan laughed at that, the sound making you look at him with a small, almost sheepish smile. "i know you're all heroic and shit but like, come on," you said, smile only growing wider as ethan shook his head stubbornly.

"no, i chose to stop people like you," he said with a content smile, hand squeezing yours softly. "imagine if i turned into a villain with my powers. i'd rather be responsible—"

"are you saying i'm not?" you scoffed, making ethan's eyes widen in panic.

"no, no— i'm sorry! i'm not like bashing your livelihood or anything, i'm just saying that i use my powers to keep people safe— stop laughing, y/n!" ethan rambled with heated cheeks as you laughed— genuinely laughed —with your head thrown back.

"well," you managed between chuckles, "whenever you want to turn into a villian like me—"

"i didn't say that!"

"then you let me know, okay?" you said with an amused twinkle in your eye. "or you can just stick to catching me whenever i get back to stealing."

ethan's face fell a bit at that, his mind immediately being reminded of that deal ages ago. the deal that he would let you go if you only helped him catch the killer. and you did— you laid down your life just to catch all of them.

he didn't want to just leave it all at that. he couldn't.

maybe ethan was more selfish than he thought.

"y/n," ethan said, hearing your small sound of acknowledgement, "does the deal still matter to you?"

ethan needed to hear you say no. he needed to know that he wasn't just imagining things because of his loneliness that only increased tenfold since the death of his family. and if he was imagining everything, that all those moments with you meant nothing to you, then he needed you to let him down easy yet again. and after that, ethan would never see you again.

you were quiet, the only sounds coming from the ducks on the pond and that crunching of leaves on the ground as people walked by, too engrossed in their own lives and only signing you both off as a couple on a bench, watching the world go by.

"y/n, please answer me," ethan said, quiet desperation in his tone as he looked away from you.

and you didn't say anything, choosing to use your injured hand to softly turn ethan's head towards you and pulling him into a kiss. and you poured your heart out to him in that kiss, hesitation so evident in both of your movements, before it turned into desperation. want. need.

no longer shrouded by your masks, you kissed him with everything you had in your heart for him. and suddenly, your life was full of him, and he with you. his cologne, his touch, his breath— all you felt was him, and for once, you didn't mind it.

ethan's lips moved so slowly with yours, eyes shut as his mind was clouded with you and only you. and when you pulled away, looking at him with slightly swollen lips and dilated eyes, he realized that the familiarity he had always felt was comfort. and he felt his muscles and bones relax at the realization.

"you know that i love you, right?" you said quietly, only loud enough for him to hear above the sounds of life. you almost looked away from him, and maybe you were a coward for almost doing so. for almost not looking at someone you had cared for so deeply that you couldn't help but confess, because if you didn't then you couldn't even bear to be around him.

but you were no coward, and so you looked at ethan in the eyes and caressed his face, because never in your life did you think that you had to muster this much courage to fall for someone and willingly put yourself in that vulnerable role. to love someone like they were a part of you. swallowing down your pride, you kept going. "i loved you when you were just spider, and even more when you were just you."

you could see his rosy lips twitch up into that genuine smile of his. the one that caught your eye all those days ago when he was just the masked hero playing with your cats in your living room. the smile that made you stop and stare just like you did with your favorite paintings, because it meant that much to you.

"and i love you," ethan murmured in return.

wind whipped by your face as you ran, your side pack full of jewelry as you jumped over new york's alleyways yet again. you could hear the police drive right past the building you were running on, most likely making their way to the house you had just stolen from.

you let the rich people breathe for only three months until you deemed yourself ready to start stealing again. and god, after being put out of commission for that long, it felt good. and it felt even better now that you could stop turning on the news and listening to reporters talk about how unusual it was for new york's most notorious thief to disappear for three months, and that maybe she was finally caught.

if only they knew.

your mask covered the upper half of your face, hiding your identity from the world yet again as you ran as fast as you could, because even though you had technically snuck out as quietly as you could, you knew ethan woke up in your shared bed and found your side empty.

but where was the fun if he didn't know?

the familiar thwip thwip sound of his webs made you grin wickedly, jumping over another alleyway before you shot your grappling hook the opposite way. the rope of the grappling hook brought you back and into an alleyway. silently climbing down, you sat under a fire escape as you waited for his webs to pass you. because as much as ethan loved to say that he could catch you, you were always one step ahead of him.

the sight of his masked head peeking upside down from the fire escape above you made you tilt your head in amusement. "oh wow, you actually found me," you stated dryly, making your masked boyfriend scoff.

"i almost always find you," ethan said, using his web to move himself down in front of you. his legs were on the web as he hung upside down in front of you, his masked face right in front of yours. "you really thought i wouldn't notice?"

"i thought your ethan tingle—"

"spider sense."

"your ethan tingle turned off when you were asleep!" you took a step closer to him, finger hooking under his mask and pulling it off of his face. ethan's brown curls fall out from under his mask, his eyes snapping between your eyes and your lips as he smirked cockily.

"here? in an alleyway?" ethan teased flirtatiously, making you groan and roll your eyes. maybe your flirting really was rubbing off on him.

"as if we haven't done that before." you muttered, before taking his face into your hands and kissing him.

#AUTHORSNOTE— thank you so much for following this series all the way until the end! the masterlist for this will be made soon, and i'll be writing another ethan series soon too! in the meantime, pls don't forget to send me asks bc i love you guys xx

#TAGLIST— @ethanlvndry , @iloveneilperry , @starsfilm , @goosenoggin , @aminatic , @wenvierismycomfort , @l5byrinth , @wroetoslut , @briefwinnerpersonaturtle , @oliviapopewannabe , @wzrlds , @raggedyoldwitch , @hotweeb , @marsyay78 , @valenftcrush , @bonkyandsteeb3000 , @bubs-world , @danis-stuff-is-here , @nuhteyam , @ravenstrueluv , @taeversity , @heartipods , @gcidrvsh , @theapulidooo , @volturi-girl-imagines , @duolingofanaccount , @buorke , @grxcisxhy-wp , @strangerdangerwrites , @mrslandryy , @michaelangdonsslut , @netey6m

[jjwantsme]

I Wanna Be Saved!

j.m

pairing: jj maybank x kook!reader

summary: in which he finally saves his favorite hoe. (part II to ‘Captain Save A Hoe’)

warnings: nsfw, lowercase intended, cussing, kiara still lowk being mean😭, slutshaming, promiscuous!reader, mentions of smut, kinda short

authors note: i love this little theory sm 🥲🥲🥲 thank yall for reading

masterlist

JJ looked zoned-out while John B went on about some stupid theory, a theory that he frankly didn’t care about. how could he care when hours earlier, his girl walked out on him?

okay, alright, she technically wasn’t his girl. but, in his mind, he was certainly her boy.

“JJ, are you even listening?” kiara looked at him with a face of annoyance.

“yeah, you were like, just straight up ignoring everything we said,” pope said in his monotone voice, only aggravating the boy in question even further

“everything is fucked, bro!” the blondie huffed, standing up off the couch as he shocked the other three teenagers. “y’all are confusing and annoying the shit out of me with this dumbass mystery thing, as if we’re in a fucking tv show! this is real life, okay?! we’re not gonna find fucking gold. listen, my favorite fucktoy walked out on me, okay, how the fuck am i supposed to pay attention?! also, i haven’t gotten high in, like, 25 hours and i’m getting withdrawals.”

the room stayed silent for a solid 6 seconds once JJ finished his stressed rant, the other teenagers looked at each other with their eyebrows raised. what the fuck was he talking about?

“uh, okay, let’s disregard the gold thing for a few minutes- what do you mean by ‘fucktoy’?” pope interrupted the silence, kiara nodding slowly in agreement to his statement.

JJ sighed and sat back on his spot on the couch, resting his forehead in his hands, “y/n, bro-“

“you fucked her?!” kiara exclaimed, her eyebrows furrowing in a mix of anger and confusion. “i literally told you that she was a bitch!”

“yo, don’t talk about her that way,” he lifted his head off his hands, “she’s actually cool, alright? i really, really like her.”

“so, then…what’s the problem?” john b shrugged slightly with raised eyebrows.

“that is the problem, dude! she’s pissed ‘cause we agreed on no actual feelings involved, but of course, i fucking folded.”

“such a bitch,” kiara mumbled, making JJ roll his eyes.

“i’m confused,” pope narrowed his eyes.

the boy groaned, “jesus, pope, how slow are you? she made me bust a couple times and now i’m ready for marriage!”

“woah-“

“look, J, you’ll get over her. there’s hundreds of hot girls on this island, you’ll be fine. now, can we please stay focused on becoming rich?” kiara spoke louder this time, cutting off pope’s shocked reaction to JJ’s explanation.

“whatever,” JJ mumbled as john b took the opportunity to plan out the next step to finding the mind-boggling gold.

they just didn’t get it.

maybe she is a hoe, JJ thought. maybe he was just another check off of the promiscuous girl’s list of dicks to suck. but, if she is a hoe, she certainly is his favorite.

y/n groaned as she woke up in another man’s bed.

after leaving JJ, she was desperate to find someone as good as him- but, she had been failing miserably.

they never made her feel as good as he did, and probably never will. JJ was different.

sex with these men was just boring. sure, they weren’t bad, but none of them were the best. it was just plain old sex. but, with JJ, it was like her pussy was made for him.

she couldn’t keep entertaining all these other boys anymore. she needed a man, she needed her man.

so, she swallowed her pride and typed up a text. ‘missing the taste of you’, she sent to him.

she was shocked when her phone dinged shortly after. ‘yeah? i’m missing the feeling of you’, he replied back to her.

yeah. that settles it. her pussy was made for him.

the teens continued their back and forth vulgar texts for the rest of the week. photographs of his dick being sent to her, voice memos of her cumming around a sex toy being sent to him.

‘i wanna see you again’, y/n said one day, and JJ would be idiotic to decline.

they agreed on a place and time. 2:00 AM in y/n’s bedroom. they clarified that there wouldn’t be much talking involved, they just wanted to feel each other’s bodies again.

he wanted to feel her juices pour onto his tongue as he pleasured her. she wanted to feel his cock stretching her out, she wanted to feel the mix of pleasure and pain.

so, there JJ was, exactly at 2:00 AM, in his favorite girl’s room.

there lips molded together in a heated makeout, his hands going down to grip her ass as they slowly moved towards the bed.

“wait, stop, wait,” JJ gasped out as he pulled away from the kiss when he felt her warm hand travel down his shorts. “we can’t do this, i’m sorry, but we can’t,”

“what? why?” she pulled her hands back as she looked at him with a face of confusion.

“because i still like you, y/n.”

her face fell as she sighed and stepped back, sitting on her bed. “yeah, i figured.” she sighed and looked down.

“look, y/n,” he situated himself in his shorts, trying his best not to focus on his raging hard-on, “i know that you have a boyfriend, but-“

“we broke up.” y/n cut him off when the words slipped from his mouth, making JJ’s heart stop.

“…what?” he breathed out, “really? wh-why?”

“i mean…sure, he was an okay boyfriend. but, he just…he just wasn’t you.”

JJ sucked in a breath at her words.

“i think i like you too, J.” she told him, just above a whisper.

“oh.” was all he could say, although in his mind he was celebrating her reciprocation.

“maybe…maybe we could go on a date or something?” she asked as she stood up again, walking towards him again.

“yeah, i…i’d like that,” he spoke quietly, cupping her face.

“i take back what i said,” he said, pecking her lips, “we can definitely do this.”

the couple spent the night making love, one round after another.

her moans were music to his ears, it felt like a reward for every good thing he’d ever done.

he’d do a thousand good things if it meant he’d get to fuck her everynight.

they stayed in each other’s arms all morning long, tracing shapes on one another’s bare skin.

“JJ?” y/n whispered into his neck as the sun shined on them through her window.

“yeah?”

“thank you for saving me.

[poppitron360]

After responding to @puzzled-pegasus’ ask about my lighthearted Leo hcs, I came up with a WHOLE BUNCH MORE so buckle up (these are mostly Valgrace)

1. Okay so I recently did a rewatch of all six Tinkerbell movies for this project I’m working on and for no other reason not just because they’re awesome and I KNOW FOR A FACT that Leo loves those movies (they’re a beloved classic in Cabin 9). The plot of the first movie is LITERALLY JUST “Hey making things is really cool and you don’t always need flashy nature powers to be useful and you should be proud of your gifts!!’ (The Tinker fairies are literally just Hephaestus kids with a green colour palette).

2. “Tinkerbell” is one of Jason’s nicknames for Leo. Leo pretends to hate it but he secretly loves it.

3. Jason started noticing that whenever Leo steals his hoodies the tags at the back always end up mysteriously being cut off. Leo hates them bc of sensory issues. Now, whenever Jason buys a hoodie, the first thing he does is cut the tag off so that Leo can wear it, too.

4. Leo once collected all the tags that he cut off his clothing and sewed them together to make a plushie and gave it to Jason to say thank you.

5. Gift-making is Leo’s love language. Jason’s love language is showing off those gifts.

6. “How to Train Your Dragon” is also one of Leo’s favourites, and he likes to curl up with Festus in Bunker 9 and watch all three movies plus the spin-off shows.

7. He references Vines CONSTANTLY. So does Piper. They like to watch compilations on YouTube and quote along to them. Jason is SO CONFUSED when they quote them out in public.

He’s just like “Why did you yell “LOOK AT ALL THOSE CHICKENS!!” When we passed by that field of geese earlier?”

And they respond with, in perfect unison- “Wouldn’t you like to know, Weather Boy?”

8. I feel like he’d be the typa guy who’s memorised the entire Bee Movie Script.

9. His favourite musical is “In The Heights” bc he knows all the Spanish and he also relates to Usnavi on a SPIRITUAL LEVEL.

10. One time he was a little too overenthusiastic doing the HOT TO GO dance and accidentally wacked Reyna in the face. They found her in the process of trying to tie him in a bag with a rabid dog to throw him in the lake.

11. *types text out in all caps* *deletes it and types in lower case* *thinks “ah, fuck it” and types it out in all caps again*

12. Carries around Uno Reverse cards in his pockets just in case. It’s actually gotten them out of some tough situations.

Monster: I’M GONNA KILL YOU!!

Leo *reaching into his tool belt*: ha!

Leo: UNO REVERSE!!

Leo: NOW WE’RE GONNA KILL YOU!!!

13. His favourite Taylor Swift song is “I can do it with a broken heart”

14. Kinda a genius at Puzzle games, videogames in general (in TLH he gets exited when he sees Beckendorf’s old bed had a gaming rig, and also canonically played Mario Party with Jason). He used to play those Lego Videogames as a kid. (He still does).

15. Also he’s the only person who can beat Annabeth at Chess. She gets SO MAD:

“It’s literally a war strategy game! How are you better than me?!”

“[Witty Chess Pun here], mi amiga.”

*Annabeth flips the board over*

16. I mean we all know that he plays with Lego, right? I like to think that’s how he designed the Argo II, by building it with Lego first.

17. Jason and Piper only find out that Leo’s real name is “Leonidas” AFTER he died. And now Jason would never get to tease him about it…

(I know Rick confirmed it wasn’t but I like it so I’m sticking with it)

18. He was actually very careful to not teach Hazel all the memes right away, and save a few for the perfect opportunity. After he told her about his plan to sacrifice himself, he goes up to her and says very solemnly “At my funeral, please- I want you to play my favourite song as you burn my shroud. It’s a beautiful song called “Never Gonna Give You Up” by a man called Rick Astley- it’s about strength and loyalty and devotion. I think if- if I don’t make it… it would be a fitting send-off.”

She falls for it SO easily, and Leo got to play a few tricks on his friends from beyond the grave.

19. I know his death was a serious matter, but you can’t tell me that Leo didn’t use it to mess with Frank and Hazel.

“Hey, Frank! Are you gonna finish that cookie?”

“Well, I was planning on-“

And then he gives him an “I’m about to die tomorrow” look and Frank just caves and gives him the cookie. Little does he know that Leo’s already scored two muffins and a chocolate bar from Hazel by pulling the exact same trick.

20. In a world where Jason survived, he also uses it to mess with him.

“Hey Leo, can you take out the trash?”

“Can’t you do it? I died to save you.”

21. When he turned 18, he actually got a “Hot stuff” tattoo just like the fake one he drew in MoA

[seat-safety-switch]

I’m Detective Archibald Shitpope. There’s only one thing I care about more than solving crimes: inexpensive Toyota hatchbacks.

The big boss upstairs has been tired of my incessant browsing of Craigslist at work for a long time. I get results, though, and no one else in the precinct comes close.

So when a murder case came across my desk, I did what I always do. Press F5 and see if anything under $2500 has been posted.

It took a long time to load. The precinct has shitty copper T3 back haul, and it’s always being wasted on stuff like crime scene streaming and live tracking of serial killers. That’s when I took a look at the case. And it shocked me. The murder occurred at the docks. The docks? That’s where JDM cars come from.

In dick school, they tell you that every murder has means, motive, and opportunity. There’s something else, at least for me. Toyotas. I carry a vintage トヨタ shift knob in my pocket, a sort of good luck charm. And, in contravention of department policy, my investigating car is a hammered-to-shit 2002 Celica GT (non-S) with bad ball joints, enough mileage that the digital odometer flickers in disbelief when I turn it on, and a case of sassy diff syndrome.

When I got to the scene, it was what I’d been dealing with for most of my career. A murder. I didn’t need the uniformed dipshits with their unreliable, smoggy domestic V8 squad cars to tell me that.

“It’s a classic locked room murder, boss,” said my assistant Soichiro when I finally arrived. He was born in Yonkers and legally changed his name after his hero, Soichiro Yamada, the guy who invented the cooled EGR system. “The keys are still in the vic’s pockets, so it's a mystery how someone got in there and killed him.” He walked me to a Toyota Corolla II “Windy.”

At once I knew the secret. “Soichiro, you fucked up again,” I spat with some measure of fatherly disappointment. This turbocharged, nearly-top-trim 1987 Corolla II sported the rare and desirable Panasonic parcel shelf speakers. That meant it also held the remote unlock feature, hugely uncommon for the Showa era, so much so that it would never be documented outside of the sales brochure, and certainly not in the inefficient and barbaric English literature for same.

“Turn ‘em out, Soichiro,” I ordered, pointing at his pockets, and he knew he had no choice but to comply. On the table before us lay the evidence of his treachery. One Carrozzeria branded remote lock/unlock remote, and - worse - the keys to a 1988 CR-X. He’d been on the take this whole time.

Later, the aforementioned uniformed dipshits would find something even worse on a search of a storage unit registered to my "partner," Soichiro. Four single-slammer D16 ZC engines, all matching serial numbers to the cars that went missing after the big tea house shootout in Chinatown. I’d been off that week, trying to find a replacement lift actuator, and Soichiro had filled in.

I don’t carry a sidearm. I don’t need to. I simply waited until Soichiro took flight, fleeing across the parking lot of the warehouse, and hit him with my car. Bent the upper radiator support, which the department bodyshop took care of since it was "in the line of duty." Fixed the headlight tabs, too. That probably cost Uncle Taxpayer a few cents.

I got a lot of heat for it later, from the chief, but the mayor overruled him, gave me a medal for valour. She was alright. Had a late model Tercel back home, I knew. Coupe, though, had a trunk. Politics is about compromise.

[starkidsimping]

before the batman : annotations

spoilers for the novel btw //

these are just some lines i highlighted and my notes. warning, theyre very stupid and hold little to no actual content. literally just my immediate response to whatever i had just read. THIS IS STUPIDLY LONG ! ! blue - bruce centric notes green - edward centric notes pink - misc notes, other characters, etc.

Prologue: The Boy in the Choir

"But when it was empty, Bruce had played in the big room, rolling toy race cars across the gleaming wooden floor all by himself."

OH MY GOD BRO :( what a patootie

-

"Except for one boy."

wsp baby :( ily

-

Chapter I: Summer Plans

"Alfred smiled and held up a notebook computer. 'I did. Straight A's. You made the Dean's List again.'"

hes just so proud of his boy </3 weeping

-

Chapter II: A Secret Project

"Alfred liked to joke that he was teaching him 'Brucejitsu.'"

theyre so cute im gonna vomit

-

"...private train car..."

this is insane. for the record .

-

"(About nine times out of ten, the mysterious substance turned out to be chewing gum.)"

let bro have fun :( hes so cute im gonna cry. just imagine him being so excited about making some incredible scientific breakthrough of an unknown, potentially supernatural substance and its. gum. hes so cute :(

-

"Maybe someday soon this car could take him there."

HES SO CUTE hes just a little boy ..... (hes 17.) honestly his dissatisfaction with life is just a result of nepotism. my poor wittle nepo baby

-

Chapter III: Edward

"...Edward Nashton."

HAIII :3

-

"You weren't supposed to say you hated school. But you were supposed to think summer was fun."

CHRIST hes so autism coded. 'supposed to,' like theres a certain way that youre meant to think that everyone else knows about, but he specifically is left out and has to guess on what hes 'supposed' to say, think, feel, etc...

-

"He smirked at me. Thought he was so much better than me."

sighs loudly .

-

"If a distant relative sent some money to one of the orphans, everyone would say, 'Man, you're such a Bruce.'"

NOT THEM TURNING HIS NAME INTO A SLUR LMFAO

-

Chapter IV: The Bruce Wayne

"He quickly found the right wrench by touch."

oh my god bro be soooo fkn fr. hes such a loser. i love him

-

"He certainly didn't want to blow the engine. Just make is growl."

oh hes one of THOSE …….. okay baby whatever makes you happy. i love how hes literally just the Car Boyfriend. F1 fan . smh

-

"'The way this guy was driving, I thought maybe they'd changed it to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway.'"

dickhead

-

Chapter V: I Know You

"Anything except his parents back."

oh. erm …!

-

Chapater VI: Dex and Paul

"That felt good—leaving ’em in the dust."

hes so cute. "haha yeah >:) i totally win"

-

Chapter VII: Thrills

“'Cheapskate,' he’d muttered as he walked back to his bike."

bro is so unserious. 'ax an elder' like that would blow over well. youre such a little freak i love you I LOVE YOU

-

"But now just the thought of doing something wrong—even something dangerously criminal—thrilled him."

you need a better outlet baby. have you considered getting diagnosed ......

-

Chapter VIII: You're In

"It was a puzzle he was determined to solve."

PUZZLE MENTION ! ! i like the parallels between ed and bruce ; both getting a thrill out of something they shouldnt be doing, being really good at certain respectives (i.e. edward and puzzles, bruce and cars) (this feels really autistic. for both of them)

-

"And he had a feeling Dex would disapprove."

he js wants to impress his cool new friend this is so sad lmao

-

Chapter IX: The Race

"But then the flash turned into a flame, and the flame spread quickly. BOOM!"

babys first act of terrorism LMAO

-

"Her engine blew, and her black muscle car careened off the street, hit a wall, and burst into flames."

OH MY GOD ?

-

Chapter X: Bye, Paul

"I wore my seatbelt like a good citizen should."

girl what are you on about now is NOT the time

-

"Aww, he thought. Poor little rich kids! Did someone bust up your racing party? Too bad! I wonder who it could have been."

shifty little fucker bro is MALICIOUS LOL

-

Chapter XI: Running

"Now, how was the race last night? Did you win?"

ALFRED ILY SM bro is so silly

-

Chapter XII: An Appointment

-

Chapter XIII: Changes

-

Chapter XIV: A Suit

"Bruce had written his thoughts down in a notebook:"

i just adore that he keeps a diary. i found it hysterical while watching the movie and now i just appreciate it

-

Chapter XV: The Point

"He brought the same lunch every day—sandwich, carrots, apple."

hes so cute im gonna THROW UP. im gonna throw up. same thing every day bro im just adding this to my list of reasons as to why hes autistic. possible safe foods for him and also just routine. god i love him. if he told me to make him a sandwhich i would. whats feminism idk ......

-

"Edward looked him in the eye. 'For a numbers guy, you sure use a lot of words.'”

ok fine i giggled. hes such a smartass LMAO what an asshole (affectionate)

-

Chapter XVI: Robbery

-

Chapter XVII: Smear it On, Blow it Up

-

Chapter XVIII: Under the Mask

"'You again?' he gasped. 'What do you want?' 'You,' Bruce said,"

im blushing

-

"Then he got an idea. What if it wasn’t there anymore?"

please for the love of god do NOT blow up the building full of orphan children i cannot keep defending you

-

"It was Dex."

GENUINELY CAUGHT ME OFF GUARD ??

-

Chapter XIX: A Visit to Smitty

-

Chapter XX: For My Lawn Mower

“'Give me back that bag,' Dex warned, lifting the rake. 'Or what?' Bruce asked, chuckling. 'You’ll rake me into a neat pile?'”

shut up dude 😭 😭

-

"Keeping a careful hold on the satchel, he wrapped his powerful arms around her, trapping her."

HELLO SAILOR

-

“'I’m going to fill this,' he explained. 'For my lawn mower.'”

i cannot keep defending this guy (yes i can) hes gonna set a fkn orphanage on fire dawwwggg

-

"And just like always, Edward had made exactly zero impression on the cashier."

the "disguise" wasnt even necessary bro no one gaf 😭 😭

-

Chapter XXI: Nice Kick

"...he saw the driver on the ground reach into his pocket, pull something out, and aim it at the truck. A remote control."

goodbye bruce. you were so so sexy

-

"As the fire alarm went off..."

BRO . YOU DID NAWT .

-

"They were right. There was no fire. Yet."

oh ok nvm carry on then

-

Chapter XXII: Busted

-

Chapter XXIII: Resolutions

"Then something interesting occurred to Edward. What if I sent riddles with my crimes?"

UR SO CORNY DAWG . shut up ur so corny . someone get this cornball outta here (and in my BED)

[verdantlights]

Symbolism

Hey chat its me ya boy skibidi rizz (im so done im sorry)

i was inspired by @rockwgooglyeyes and @sotogalmo to do symbolisms for each of my ocs!! In order: Animal, Flower, Tarot, Solar, and Sin.

this ones gonna be pretty long since im adding images, I'll be updating this post later with my 2 new ocs' symbols (both s41), so for now itll just be Toki, Clove, Hori, and Sera.

some choices have extended meanings, some dont!

Toki

Animal: Hare (usually fertility,,,, but um... no. just imagine a predatorial rabbit lmao)

Flower: Red Spider Lily (death)

Tarot: I The Magician, reversed. (Manipulation, cunning, trickery, deception)

Solar: Red Giant. A star that is nearing the end of it's life, it is so overwhelmed with energy and heat that it's about to explode.

Sin: Gluttony

Body: Teeth (to take apart)

Clove

Animal: White Tailed Deer (gentleness, kindness, grace, and sensitivity)

Flower: Orchids (hope, resilience, and endurance)

Tarot: XII The Hanged Man, upright (feeling trapped/confined, self-limiting, uncertainty, needing release, contemplation, lack of direction)

Solar: Rho Cassiopeiae. Rho Cassiopeiae (in the Cassiopeia constellation) is a single star, and is categorized as a semiregular variable. As a yellow hypergiant, it is one of the rarest types of stars.

Sin: Sloth

Body: Heart (compassion)

Horizon

Animal: Bat (transformation, true sight, power, rebirth)

Flower: Black Pearl Asiatic Lily (transformation, rebirth, and the hidden depths of the human psyche)

Tarot: II The High Priestess, upright (mystery, intuition, divination, esoteric wisdom/knowledge, things yet to be revealed)

Solar: Event Horizon. The event horizon is the 'surface' of a black hole. It is the point of no return. Once you are past the event horizon, you cannot leave, time and space continuum are warped and your perception of the plane is... gone. You will not be able to escape, it's a one way ticket to your fate: the singularity.

(the event horizon is the warped space around the black hole,,, it warps light as it passes through)

Sin: Sloth

Body: Eyes (The doors to the soul)

Seraph

Animal: Dove (prosperity and peace)

Flower: Lily of the Valley (beautiful, but poisonous)

Tarot: XVIII The Moon, upright (illusion, vagueness, instability, deception, misconception, subconscious, insecurity)

Solar: Singularity. The singularity is the center line of a black hole, it is also the end point. Do not see the black hole as a sphere, see it as a tunnel. The true singularity is the end of the tunnel, where everything is (yes this is a legit term) spaghettified. Light, matter, molecule, element, atom. Everything that passes the event horizon will end up in the singularity. You will die.

(theres no like,,, super cool image of a singularity,, not even what itd look like obv... also, the idea of the singularity is a tad bit outdated and the structure of a black hole has been reworked i believe, but for sake of. my sanity. were going with endpoint/center.)

Sin: Wrath

Body: Shoulder blades (if humans had wings, where would they be?)

[fakesimp]

Twisted Love

Warning !

Slight Nsfw ; Yandere! Eki ; Dark Sorcerer! Hikarino ; Established Poly Relationship

A/n !

I'll indulge into y'all wish upon me making another part of Twisted Passion, this is the sequel of Twisted Passion !

<- Part II ||

➶◜◝➴

Ever since you are in relationship with the two, Eki and Hikarino, not a day goes without them fighting over who you're spending time with.

Hikarino the mysterious Dark Sorcerer that manage to pique your interest, at first he is quite hard to understand. It took awhile for you to actually understand what his true intentions are, when you understood him enough. He is actually pretty cute himself, how is he cute? It is very subtle, but he is actually trying so hard to impress you.

Wanting to look cool, and mysterious in front of you. And it did work, but only for short amount of time since slowly, you started to see his true intentions behind his subtle actions. His actions speak louder than his words, you can notice how he constantly checking up on you. Even if he did already check up on you like what, an hour or two hours ago.

There are also times where he just visit your room, and just. Silently sat down at the chair in your room, reading quietly. Minding his own business, why did he do that? Because he longs for your presence, he unconsciously seek for your warm and welcoming presence. So don't point it out if you want him to keep coming to your room, if you did he will literally stop visiting.

He is shy okay? Spare the Dark Sorcerer.

Eki meanwhile, this red head is quite dangerous to be around. And yet here you are, indulging his crazy minds. He knows you like it, the more you deny the more feisty he gets. Especially his teasy remarks, it's increasing much more as the time goes by.

He is a messy guy, you can tell by how messy his room is, messy but also not that dirty. Does that make sense? He knows where his things are placed even in his room, don't even bother to clean it up. He'll mess them up in the end anyway.

He loves spending time with you, suddenly barging into your room and just walk up to you, dragging you to bed and just laid on top of you. He loves headpats from you, he often hold your hand too. Why? Because your hand are softer than his, at least that's what he thought. His hands are way rougher than yours.

He is more touchy than Hikarino, clingier too.

. . .

There are also days where both of them came to visit you in your room, cuddling together on your bed, Eki behind you while Hikarino in front of you. It's always like that.

These days are the most peaceful day, where these two doesn't quarrel over who' spending time with you. And you're more than happy to indulge these two on these days, where they'll just silently seeking for your presence, and love.

And that day is today.

Hikarino gently pulling your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles, his piercing green eyes flickered up from your hand to your eyes. You then felt someone's hand grips your hips slightly tighter,

It's Eki's hand.

You felt Eki's lips on your earlobe, he chuckled softly into your ear, leaving you shivering from head to toe.

"Little bunny "

He kissed down to your exposed shoulder, you were distracted by Eki's lips, but soon you felt a tug on your hand. You look back towards Hikarino who's in front of you, "Pay attention to me" he whispered as he graze his lips at the tip of your fingers, he then pulled your hand placing them on his cheek. He kissed your palm as he glance towards you.

You heard a faint growl behind you, you can feel these two are glaring at each other, looks like the two are in need of your attention.

Now who would you pay attention to?

The Desperate Dark Sorcerer? Or, The Clingy Yandere?

Good luck fufu~

©fakesimp . 2023

A/n !

It's not a whole fic but I hope everyone likes this ! Apologies if y'all expected more (⁠╯⁠︵⁠╰⁠,⁠)

[oxittocin]

whatever this is (nico robin x reader)

nico robin masterlist

i'm not a writer, just a nico robin simp. this is but an unworthy tribute.

cw: gn!reader, an exploration of the [nico robin x reader] relational development across arabasta, skypiea and enies lobby arcs, with the god/devil motifs.

i. Post-Arabasta

Sanji had a terrible habit of leaving his cigarettes around. It is kind of a miracle that his pockets continue to contain a never-ending cigarette supply. You spot a half-burnt cigarette lying on the deck for the fifth time this week and swiftly picked it up. Didn’t want litter on Merry.

“Should I start calling you Janitor-San?” A hint of playfulness in her voice as Robin looks up from the book she’s holding.

You cleared your throat with a flourish.

“You can call me Mr. Prince.” Cigarette between the index and middle finger, you cooly placed it between your lips, pretending to take a drag in the best Sanji impression you could muster. Wiggling your eyebrows and pretending to exhale sweet smoke into the cool air, you asked Robin, “Are you lost? I need to call God and tell him I’ve found his missing angel.”

Expecting to hear Robin’s gorgeous, gorgeous laughter, you mentally gave yourself a pat on the back for a job well done on an exquisitely accurate Sanji impression.

Or so, you thought.

A long moment passed before you saw the tiniest trace of amusement grace her features. Still, the silence that followed had already pushed you down a rabbit hole of self-consciousness and embarrassment. Involuntary flashbacks of Robin nonchalantly breaking necks with merely a flick of her palms had you panicking. What kind of idiocy had possessed you to freely joke around her like this? Stupid cigarette. Stupid Sanji.

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust her. It just always felt like she was keeping you at arm’s length. A careful distance, a wariness masked by gentle smiles, a tentative friendship that rendered you a bumbling idiot. You didn’t know how to act around her when in this state of incongruence.

It felt like an eternity had passed when she finally responded.

“Ah, an angel.” She simply stated, turning her attention back to her book.

Now, cue the internal screaming, cursing yourself over and over again, wishing you could just jump off the ship and disappear. Face flushed red with embarrassment, it was no surprise that you missed it when she said, “Lucifer was an angel too.”

Ah, it must have been odd for someone so closely associated with the name of the Devil, to be called an angel.

ii. Post-Skypiea

Sure, God Enel did wipe out a whole lot of folks but the real bulldozer was the Moonlight Party afterwards. Leaving behind a sea of wasted idiots - including the majority of the Strawhats - you winced at your throbbing headache as you shuffled to sit beside Robin, who seems to be the only one sober enough for a conversation.

“What a God, huh?” You offered her a friendly smile.

“It seems you might have jinxed us with your Sanji impression, with wanting to call God and all.” She retorted.

“Well, eh, I’ve never believed in God,” you say with a shrug of your shoulders. A pause, before you continue, “I believe in you, though.”

Throughout the events that unfolded in Skypiea, you had grown much more comfortable around Robin. She remains a mystery in more ways than one, but she has saved your hide countless times over that you feel safe around her.

“Another attempt at a pick up line, I see.” She teased.

“No, I mean it.” You admit. It must be the sentimentality that arose from the quietness of the night or the atmosphere under the full moon that had given you an ounce of courage to be sincere.

“Even if I were the devil incarnate?” She asked. In the dimness of the night, you couldn’t quite make out her expression. You weren’t sure if she were joking or not, but there was a quiet desperation in her tone that you couldn’t quite comprehend.

A pause.

“I’d still think you were cool.” You say softly to her, not sure if that was the answer she wanted to hear. You hope that it was enough anyway, because you meant it. You liked her, regardless. You hope she knows that, but the silence that ensued lasts a little longer and tells you that she probably doesn’t.

iii. Post-Enies Lobby

“It's divine intervention, you know that right?" That was the first thing you said to her after the ordeal that was Enies Lobby. A couple of pirates against the Marines' stronghold is practically a suicide mission after all. If not for heaven's will, then how else?

"And would God really save the Devil's Child?" She asked, amused by your interpretation of the events that had unfolded. A twinkle of playfulness in her eyes as she challenged your theory.

"God made me to never leave you alone."

A promise you intend to keep.