#if you give spider man some preparation time

[frog-with-no-therapy]

Also I would imagine he would sometimes help other super heroes

Not cause he respect them or idolize them or sm (in fact he is a bit bitter about how none of his loved ones was saved by them, not his parents not his uncle not his aunt not Gwen, not even himself. he knows it's not logical but still)

It's also not because he is turning a new leaf or anything, but because he need the universe to be at a certain level of peace for him to continue inventing and researching and stealing materials and all of that

Also I would imagine his public villain skemes are mostly just ridiculous pranks, just stuff he does to have some fun and change his pace (his aunt probably told him before dying to not let her death affects him. To live and accept and move on and be a kid and have fun and continue being a good kid. He failed the moving on part, and the being a good kid part is up to debate, but he would like to at least do one of the things she told him to. And if that meant stalking superheroes/villains to get unflattering pictures of them and sharing it, or putting glitter bombs in random places with riddles for heroes to solve, or having his spider-bots scaring the ever loving hell out of some arachnophobic heroes/villains , or just trying his new invention on some of them, then oh well. It's not like these things will stick once he finally reverse time)

As for the not so public ones? The ones he tries to keep under radar? It's mostly just him stealing other scientists research and work in order to see if it can help him with his goals. Also stealing some blueprints and codes from Tony for his spider-bots. Don't worry, he makes sure to leave them a small notes telling them he won't pass it as his own, cause he is a professional and professionals have standards

His biggest problem is not having self esteem in his works, since most have something stolen to help make them. He doesn't really see them as fully his or as something he made because he was capable of, he simply see it as him just plucking pieces of puzzles and adding them together to make a picture, not making the pieces himself (at least for his more computery invention, cause he is more of a chemistry guy. With that being said he doesn't apply anything he steals without him fully understanding how and why it works)

Someone please write a mad scientist peter parker

I need a fic or even just drabbles or anything, otherwise it won't leave my head and I won't be able to study and I can't afford that

Like, the idea of peter turning evil? And the fact it's not spiderman who is the scary one, but nerdy peter parker with his biochemistry and physics skills and his ability to think fast and outside the box? CAN NO ONE SEE THE APPEAL????

And its just so perfect, cause he is really smart and have a good origin and more than enough reasons to be a villain, and the best part is he doesn't see himself as a villain. He is, in his eyes, a necessary evil.

And with him not going around every night to fight bad guys and get hurt cause he is holding back, he will have plenty of time to make gadgets for himself and his plans will be brutal and deadly (cause, again, the mean justify the end, right?)

Like, I already have many ideas for him, like uncle Ben dying a year before his time Infront of peter and not being able to deliver his "with great power comes great responsibility", cause it wasn't needed (which is a really big factor in making peter parker the spiderman we know. It turned him from a childish brat to a hero)

Aunt may being sick and him leaving school to take care of her, maybe even getting a job (he can do online schooling, and probably just graduate early) him trying to study more and more of chemistry and pharmacy and anything that can help him help her, staying up at night reading Bruce's papers and a bit of Richard's too

Him trying and almost reaching a solution, except it's too late and now he has an empty house full of useless papers that were another mark of his failure, yet falling back into studying and researching anything to keep the illusion that everything's ok, and to distract himself from the loneliness

Him one day just decide to simply not accept what happened, and to find a way to get back his family. A time machine. He just need to make some kind of time machine and get back and boom, his life is good once again and he will make sure it stays that way

Also the whole time machine idea would explain him not having apathy or not being against killing and hurting others, why would he, when he know for sure everything will just go back to how it was? (And it has to go back, he refuses to even think about any other possibility. And maybe him killing few people is a reminder that he can't quit one day, a reminder that now he have more lives to fix and heal)

[whore-ibly-hot]

Just a quick little thing to tide you all over.

Thinking about...

Bill, he hates fem!reader being a part of the group, but he can't help from bringing it up when he's getting picked on at school. Bringing up he's got a hot piece of ass in the club, so how could they be dorks! There's a chick in HIS club.

"You're not a fucking member, I said that because that jock-douche wouldn't leave me alone. Even if you were, you don't know shit about what we do here." He complains. "I-I mean, honestly, do you even own a single comic, mint condition? Do you sleeve and grade them yourself? Didn't think so. You're a glorified class pet, consider yourself lucky I let you bum around here." He sneers.

His tune quickly changes when he's at the comic book shop, pushing some kids and middle aged men aside to get to a new edition of Spider-man. "Hey, kid, watch it!" One of the neckbeards scoffs, adjusting his glasses and pushing Bill's shoulder. Bill whips around, furious. "You watch it! And KID?! Listen here, you limped dick virgin, I'm younger than you, but at least I've spoken to a girl who isn't my mom in the last ten years. Take this-" He shoves the comic at him. "See if I even care, go beat your meat over the fact you got a comic, ill just go back to MY club, surrounded by MY collection, and sit with MY girl!"

After being removed from the store for yet another freak out, he slowly winds down, face a bit flushed as he considers the implications of 'his girl'.

"Hey, Bill, so... since I'm a member of the group now-"

"You're not-"

"I was hoping I could maybe come over and set up for meetings. You know, over here."

This gives him pause, but the idea of you, just you, in his house, setting up for the meeting, all alone. Not showing up for the other guys, showing up for him. Being... his.

"Fine. But be prepared to do some actual work, gotta earn your place here..." Hes pretty sure he's seen a porno start this way.

Yan!Pete, he doesn't have to prove anything to anyone, he's just gonna relish in the fact that the club isn't a sausage fest anymore. He's suddenly able to tune out Bill's screeching way more, focusing on the way you bend down to pick the figures Bill has knocked on the wall in a rage, the way your pants hug your ass. Digging under a shitty couch for a three dollar Megaman figure has never been sexier.

He'll call you. A lot. Telling you about some freaky new flick he's found, or that he's got tickets to some shitty new band playing downtown. It's best to indulge him, he'll only get clingier if you don't respond, calling the home phone line, which always gets awkward with your folks.

"Hey, how's it going, babe?" He calls over the phone. "Whatcha up to?" You respond saying your just laying on your bed, watching some TV. "Cool, cool. Listen, you want any company in that big ass bed of yours? I got some stuff from Block-Buster." He just lets out a huff as you say you can't, but you're happy to talk for a bit. As you complain about bill, it's best to ignore his his breathing grows heavier, and the unending stream of thoughts from his big mouth seem to get suspiciously quiet. Trust me, you finding out what he's doing on the other end will only turn him on more.

"So, yeah- he's just being a total dick. I mean, I don't want to have to feel like I'm 'earning my place' in a group of friends." You sigh into the phone.

"Yeah- well, that's Bill for you." Pete huffs, speaking up for the first time in several minutes. "He's a dickwad, shit..."

"I don't know. Anyways, what did you wanna talk about?"

"Wanna fuckin' cum..." he mumbles, so lowly you can barely hear, and ask him to repeat.

"What?"

"What?"

Jerry, he's thrilled to have a pretty girl around, makes him feel a little more normal. However, he knows the rest of his group isn't, so while they are wrapped up in wanting you too much or fighting the urge to want you, he's wracked with insecurity you'll leave. He knows that he and the others are a shitty bunch of people, and its only a matter of time till you realize it.

He's as sweet as he can be, learning everything he can about you. What are your hobbies, your interests, what do you do when you aren't bumming around with them? Tell him, he'll get into whatever you're into. Just stay. Please. You make him feel sane when everyone is screeching.

"No, no! I totally like that kinda stuff!" He assures you, ignoring the sounds of Josh trying to explain the significance of his recently acquired magic card. "Yeah, um, I mean, I'm still getting into it, so, if you have any advice or, if you wanna teach me about it, that'd be cool!" He struggles between wanting to learn from you, as thay would be MAJOR for him to spend that much time with you, and wanting to already be perfect at whatever you're doing to impress. Wikihow becomes Jerry's best friend, as he works on trying to master you interest. Into crotchet? He hopes his hand dexterity from drawing will carry over. Baking? Ah, well, he'll try his best; even though he's not much of a cook. DnD? Oh, he's gonna cream his pants and have to rush off to the bathroom.

"So, Jerry, do you want to come over? Maybe I can teach you to get better at it."

"Y-yeah! I'd love to, uh, lemme just get my stuff from my place. Love you, bye!"

"What'd you say?" You ask, turning back from your spot on the sidewalk.

"Uh, Leave you! I'm leaving you, now! To go- to go get my stuff." The blonde stammers, rushing off.

Josh, he's a lot like Jerry in that he's afraid you'll get scared off, but he blames Bill and Pete, never hosnown awkwardness and sexism for why you might leave. He's the normal one, just him and Jerry. It's Pete perversions and Bill freakouts that are upsetting you.

He's far to awkward to try and actually talk to you to keep you around, you're a girl. He doesn't want to come on to strong like Pete, at least that's what he tells himself. In truth, he's both skeptical of your intentions in the group and desperate for those intentions to be good. In lieu of talking to you, he spends money on you under the guise of needing to educate you into what the groups about, or quote 'dorkify the babe' as Pete says.

He gives you figures, memorabilia, tapes of movies you want to see, you name it, he'll find a way to get it to you. It's going to piss off Bill, but Josh will only argue he makes donations to the clubs collective items all the time.

"Its a collectors pack, I picked it up from the store. And the book is a game guide for Jerry's next campaign. I'd recommend reading it so you can be caught up." He coughs, rubbing a free hand over his greasy ponytail.

"Thanks Josh, this is really sweet!" You chirp, happily going through the pack of cards

While he flinches at your haning of the cards, he calms himself at the sound of your sweet words. "Yeah, well- just- if you're gonna be a *real* member of our group, you need to know what we know, and I doubt Bill is gonna help you out. He'd rather gloat about what you don't know, he's always pulls that shit with us." Pausing, he glances at you. "But... you can count on me, for-for anything you don't understand. Pete just wants to get in your pants, and he doesn't know fucking anything anyways. And Jerry... he's fine, but i wouldn't say he's an expert like me in anything but wearing silly fairy costumes." He snarks.

'Please, please, please just talk to me about club stuff, ignore them, they're idiots...'

[alchemistc]

Robbie slaps a glossy looking flyer on the table. Palm down, eyes narrowed, pretending like hell the slap of her hand against the wood grain didn't sting as she squares up, all four-feet-three-inches of her, like she's preparing for battle.

Tommy's slumped in his chair and still half a head taller than her.

He doesn't quite cower, at her glare, but at thirteen she's just about ready to explode at any given moment.

They don't talk about the time he sat on the floor with the bathroom door at his back and read the instructions for inserting a tampon in the calm, cool tones of a man so far out of his depth he might as well have turned into pressurized meat juice mist while Robbie had a panic attack just inside.

They don't talk about the massive argument they'd had in the middle of TJ's the first time Robbie back talked Evan with all the angst of a girl about to experience the pimpliest, testosterone fueled ragiest few years of her life. (Evan had gotten a kick out of it and Tommy had spent a week listening to his deep dives into the Beauty Of Puberty with the skepticism of an only child who never shared a bathroom).

Robbie rolls her jaw. Grabs the flyer and shakes it in Tommy's face. It's a riot of color, and Tommy has to squint to make out the words. Fuck, he does need those reading glasses.

"Why is the paper making you look homicidal?"

"We never go to Pride, dad!"

Ah.

Well.

That.

Tommy slumps further in his seat, which puts Robbie at eye level, and boy howdy is she gonna make his life a living hell until the hormones settle in...a decade or so. The glare is all Evan, emotions unchecked and just out there for the world to see. He's so fucking grateful neither of his kids took to his 'repress until you pancake yourself' way of handling a single emotion.

Tommy never bought into the rainbow crap, couldn't ever push himself into participating in a world he'd denied himself so long. Nothing against it, himself, just - a line he kept somewhere off behind and to the left where he couldn't look it in the eye.

And Evan...

Well. Being an 'ally' switched to throwing up the Bi Flag in his Instagram profile and he never really shifted any further than that.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" Tommy asks, because last week she'd spent an hour in the yard yanking weeds with the ferociousness of a terrier with a nest of rats over some kid in her class named Michael and to this point hasn't shown that her interests stray farther than that. Fuck. Has he missed something?

"Uh, yeah, that my gay dads are quiet homophobes who won't take their kids to a fuckin' parade."

Oh well that's a lot of different things to put in check, right there.

It's his own damn fault for laughing hysterically every time their toddler dropped an F bomb.

It's his own damn fault for blowing off the drag queens with petitions outside the library a month ago.

"Your father is a Kinsey two-and-a-half on a good day, and don't say fuck."

"Internalized homophobia is still homophobia, dad." She rolls her tongue over her teeth. Sends him a challenging look. "Fuck." She pronounces it like it has seven syllables.

"If you're gonna challenge me you better be able to use it in a sentence properly."

"I want to fucking go to fucking Pride with my fucked up not straight dads but they're both fucking repressed fucking losers."

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Tommy jokes, and the flyer crumples in his daughters fist. And - yep, there's the shriek.

Evan's gonna be pissed that he isn't curbing the language a little more.

Which he absolutely will do. Later. Once Robbie isn't a good leap away from the knife block.

His kids aren't violent people, by nature. Robbie has a mean left hook and an eye for taking people out at the ankles he encouraged far too much before she hit ten. Danny cradles spiders in the cup of his hands on the way out the door while giving Tommy a wide-eyed and judgemental berth.

Robbie crumples up the flyer a little more. Stares at him like she's wishing there was enough weight to it to cause damage to his thick fucking skull if she were to throw it.

She blinks, and those are - yep, those are tears.

"Sweetheart," Tommy starts, and Robbie launches herself forward, embraces Tommy just in time for some sobs to really kick in, nonsensical phrases leaking out of her as she cries, and cries, and cries.

He's good at this part. The part where they can't see his face, where he can cradle them to him and rub their back and murmur nonsense back while they do a better job feeling, and then regulating their emotions than he had until his late thirties.

"Ms. Frankie said she'd take me but I don't wanna go with Ms. Frankie," he gets, as another wave breaks, and he has to shift his weight against the onslaught of two sharp ass knees heading straight for his belly. "Ms. Frankie has a crush on Dad and I hate her."

Ms. Frankie absolutely has the hots for Evan. Ms. Frankie's son is a bully who thinks he's better than everyone else by virtue of accepting and picking on everyone equal-opportunity style.

Ms. Frankie is definitely not taking his kid to her first Pride.

Shit.

God damnit.

The tears dry up, eventually.

Tommy tries not to think about the fact that he's not gonna be allowed to comfort his pre-teen like this for much longer. Tries not to think about the fact that she's gonna stop asking for it, soon enough, and he'll have to make do with words from the other side of a slammed door.

"I'm not wearing rainbow anything," he says, like he's surrendering a crucial air base, and Robbie leans back with narrowed eyes.

"I have that face paint Jee gave me for Christmas."

"You get one cheek to work with," he negotiates, even though he's well aware he's gonna leave the house with more color than he's worn in twenty-five years.

"Dad let me do his whole face for New Years," she wheedles.

"Dad has better coloring than I do. Those jewel tones make his eyes pop. And Dad doesn't have to know how many times you dropped an F-bomb on me ten minutes ago."

He's fucking up his kids. Teaching an almost teenager how to properly blackmail someone is just one of many ways he's doing it while he digs his own grave.

At least they're not fucking scared of him.

"Two cheeks, and we post a picture on Dad's Insta because Ms. Frankie stalks him there and she'll be so jealous."

"You're diabolical," Tommy tells her, and her wet, snotty, lopsided grin makes something in his heart swoop. She's all Evan, and he loves her so fucking much he stopped trying to figure out where to put it the first time she latched a tiny little hand around his pointer finger and burst into the exhausted tears of something new to this world. "If you ever teach Danny how to manipulate someone like this I'm gonna start reporting you for war crimes."

"Danny's too nice, it would hurt his feelings to even think about it."

Yeah. Not sure where the fuck he got that from.

"You watch out for him, don't you?"

He's aware there's a dynamic at play here that he shouldn't overly encourage. Doesn't want her feeling like she's gotta parent her younger brother, it's just -

"He doesn't need it. Sometimes when he says nice things to people I think he destroys their whole world for a few days."

Tommy takes her out for ice cream and broaches the subject of the parade before Evan realizes Tommy's spoiled her dinner.

Danny's eyes go bright and gleaming and he sends a look at his sister that Tommy is absolutely certain he should be worried about, because they've clearly been plotting and scheming for days.

When June sixth rolls around Danny wakes up early, pounces on the bed, and hands Tommy the ugliest fucking shirt Tommy's ever seen, bright and lurid and awful, and Robbie doesn't even have the decency to hide her smug look when she stumbles blearily into the kitchen, following the smell of scrambled eggs Tommy spends an extra ten minutes dyeing with the organic shit Evan brought home last week.

[hanasnx]

" GIVE ME THE SWEETEST GOODBYE THAT I EVER DID RECEIVE " — peter parker.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: takes place during the events of the marvel's spider-man 2 game. WARNINGS: fem reader | established relationship | morning sex mention | mild exhibitionism | sex against a window.

"You forgot your lunch again." are words PETER PARKER has heard too many times. He spins in place, disengaging from his work to face you, his girlfriend, who so graciously conquered his paper bagged lunch and retrieved it for him like his knight-in-shining-armor.

"Knew I was forgetting something." he murmurs, receiving the sack from you and stealing a greeting kiss from your lips in the same motion.

"Yeah, you left in kind of a hurry this morning." you reply with an impish grin tugging at your lips, leaning your palms at the edge of his desk. You meet his eyes over your shoulder, noting his knowing smile.

He approaches you from behind, lowering his voice to speak in your ear. "Well, that's because someone wouldn't let me." The lunch crinkles as he sets it down, and he hesitates to return to his work when you're here clearly vying for some attention, bringing up this morning of all things...

"Oh, right, because it was all me." you retort sarcastically, breaking exchange of a look to spy on his monitor. You've got a good head on your shoulders, but the stuff Pete does has you at a loss. It's gibberish written across his screen that he no doubt understands and could teach a class on. The thought of his competency drifts your mind elsewhere to the more alluring traits he took on before he left for work. How curious his hands were traversing your body after waking up next to you, kneading your bare form under covers, tucking himself behind you with his morning wood until that confidence bought him some sleepy sex. You heat up, and bite your lip at the memory.

You snap out of your trance, and make more conversation before you excuse yourself so he can get back to work. "Where is everybody?" you ask, voicing your observation. Since you got in, you haven't seen anybody.

Peter pours some coffee into a paper cup, fixing it up how you like it. Steam rises past the rim as he stirs it, and he draws his hand up to suck some sweetness off of his index finger. Your chest jumps, the residual recollection of what it's like to be filled stings your insides. Shifting your weight from leg to leg gives you the subtlest of frictions, and you try to conceal your growing interest by averting your eyes. He brings you the warm cup, handing it to you gently as he looks out through the glass of his office to the lobby. "Harry gave them the rest of the day off. It was in preparation for some repairs—" He glances at you during his explanation, and when you flash a questioning expression, he clarifies. "—er, for the particle accelerator. Apparently, there was some mistake with scheduling so Harry's out trying to get it sorted. I figured I should at least get something done while I'm here waiting it out."

You enter in a well-timed joke. "You should do me." Peter eyes you thoughtfully.

It was not a joke, and it was excellently timed.

"Did you know I've always wanted to fuck in your—mm—office?" you ask, panting while he yanks you back on his dick. Pressed up against the window that overlooks the lobby, your breath fogs it up. Your hands brace flat against it, its temperature cooling your heated skin, indenting your perked nips.

Peter's chuckle through his nose sounds behind you, and it widens your intoxicated grin. "S'not just mine, baby. What's he gonna say when he sees your tit-prints all over the glass?" Some of the stuff Peter says really gets you, his words shooting straight through you as his dirty talk often does. You moan in response, sucking a breath through your teeth right after, biting your lip hard as he plows your pussy. His steady hands on your hips make sure you can't recoil too much and run away too far, he keeps you right where he wants you so easy.

"We could've kept more clothes on, Pete." you gasp, your tone reminiscent of admonishment even though you loved how he flicked your shirt up to squeeze your tits between the window and your body. Knowing him, he'd been waiting to do that since you walked in.

"Now where's the fun in that?"

"You sound like you wanna get caught."

"You think I haven't thought about showing you off?"

[satoruhour]

STILL (ALWAYS) HERE

a/n: part two to this but not really? enjoy!

wc: 2.4k

warnings: spider-man!gojo, a little ooc gojo, mentions of blood and bruises, cleaning up wounds, some angst -> comfort, play on that one scene from tasm 2

you’re thinking that you’ve hit another dead end when you groan into your sheets from the headache that wraps around your head. it’s mild and dull but there’s still that throb at the back of your consciousness that you can’t exactly take your mind off of. at least, that was what you were telling yourself — normal headaches caused by the stress of university, and definitely not because of a trivial fight with your boyfriend.

the daunting calculus question stares back at you like it was mocking you, teasing you for getting heated over such a small thing when you knew he was only looking out for you with the best intentions in mind.

with a longing look to your abandoned convo with spider-man!gojo, you sink again into your pillow, lights suddenly looking too bright and the music in your ears, jarring. you haven’t seen him in school today, thinking him to be dramatic as always. but he didn’t need lectures and seminars at this point, either, knowing him to be one of the smartest people you know.

in the midst of quelling your headache and thinking of how to apologise, you don’t notice the way your vigilante boyfriend weaves his web around the trees just outside your window, crafting a sweet message of i miss you along the branches and leaves.

a tangle of webs, stuck like honeycomb to some abandoned shed, a tangle of webbing like his hip to yours. tangles of countless webs like his lips along your forehead when you fall asleep too early during study sessions and finally, his heart beating in time with yours.

one fell swoop of a rock from above makes you head tilt in utter confusion; in no world could a rock fall against your window in an arc like that come from anyone of this world, this dimension, yet you know no other person with wall-sticking and web-shooting abilities and it’s then when the complicated entanglement of letters come into view.

your heart clenches up just a little at the sight, a clear indication that it’s satoru from the similarity of his handwriting that’s on his own pre-calc homework. before you can call out, he shifts diagonally outside your window, mask removed and chest heaving at the anticipation of your reaction — both to the tension of your fight before and possibly another thing.

the darkness of the night hardly provides clarity, though, so when you don’t walk away, gojo feels the pull of your eyes on him, drawing him in and trapping him within your own web like prey. crawling along the side of your house, he gives you one more small pleading look: roughed up hair looking a little dirty and his body just aching so much.

“baby . .” he mumbles, blue eyes softening at the sight of you after not seeing you for just one day. it does things to him, “may i?”

but you’re not truly prepared for until your ceiling light exposes the reality of gojo’s situation, what with his cut-filled face and rips all over his suit. it’s dirty, like he was dragged around and made a fool of fighting god knows who, and he’s — oh my god — is all you mouth out, he’s bleeding from a fairly large wound in his side which he has held pressure with his mask.

“’toru!” you panic and quieten down, “oh— oh my god, fuck, fuck fuck, what do i do? satoru— you’re b-bleeding—” and you regret every single word you yelled at him just the day before, now rewarded (or cursed, rather) with his pristine white suit stained a deep, traumatising red. you’re shaking, rightfully so, and gojo is more calm than you, using his free and clean hand to rub circles into your sides.

“breathe, you gotta breathe, princess.”

“n-no— you breathe! you’re l-losing blood!’’ your throat closes in, your head fills with thoughts of his coffin being lowered. you start to sob, “satoru—”

“hey, hey, hey,” it’s both gentle and strong enough to catch your attention, brushing the stray strands from your face and you already lean into the long-awaited touch. his thumb wipes away the tears that already start falling, “’m still here, ’m still here. i’ve tried my best to cover the wound with extra shirts of mine, just stuffed into my suit.”

sniffling, you speak through hiccups, “why the hell do you have extra shirts in your fighting-villains backpack? w-why do you even bring a fighting-villains backpack?”

through the absurdity of it all: fucking spider-man bleeding out on your wooden floor, your tears mixing in with blood, the branches outside starting to snap and fall from the added tension of the webs, satoru laughs softly, fully cupping your face now and trying his best not to grimace at the increasing ache in his side. 

“and you always laugh at the weirdest fucking times!” you chastise, still speaking through periodic hiccups and sniffles that you keep stuttering, not even able to smack him like you like to do because you know he hurts, “now wait here, you loser.”

a soft thank you is heard, able to breathe a little harsher now that you’ve gone to find the first aid, anxiety obvious in the pattering footsteps heard. without wasting any time, you grab the kit and let him peel off the suit in the bathroom, not even that much focused on his toned body but the amount of bruises and cuts that litter it.

a new wave of panic settles in your bones, a whimper sounding out when your feather-like touches span over his body.

“satoru . .”

“i’m so—”

“no,” you mumble, getting to work fast by taking out the gauze, bandages, whatever you could use. thank the heavens you at least knew some first aid, wincing whenever he hisses at the stinging alcohol. “let’s not talk about our fight now.”

he swallows, knuckles white from how tight he was gripping the sink, “f-first time you’re not asking me to apologise, heh—”

from behind, he can see you lift your eyes from the careful care you execute on his side, meeting your eyes in the mirror that gloss over again with tears and his heart sinks again.

“p— please don’t make jokes when i’m literally stitching you up, satoru,” you whisper, forehead bumping into his bicep, soft but quick breaths fanning over the skin there, “i don’t wanna talk, not while i almost lost you.”

“but it’s hardly any—”

“gojo satoru!” the shout of his full name shocks both of you, not even sure whether you were feeling angry at the fact that he always downplays his injuries, or sad at the fact that he can’t see that he deserves to be taken care of, too. it was always a guessing game with satoru.

“it’s not just anything, g-god! can you have some regard for yourself?” you don’t care that your words echo off the bathroom walls, its acoustics probably making your wails even more heartbreaking for your boyfriend. “look at yourself and tell me that it’s hardly anything! tell me, say it to my face!”

your nose is red, tear stains already making their home on your pretty face while your fingers squeeze the gauze instinctively, and he tells himself it’s all because of him. it’s all because he didn’t want to be a couple in public in fear that his enemies would target you, because he was afraid they’d use you as leverage, as a decoy, as a trade deal. but that has only made the yearning for you more difficult — pinkies barely brushing against each other, an inside joke swallowed into his throat.

satoru is silent, not sure what he could say that wouldn’t hurt you any further and he turns to lean against the sink counter, bloodied hands staining the marble and suit. and if he looked hard enough, he’s sure he can see the ache of your palpitating heart, bleeding down your chest and pooling at the floor from all the pain he’s caused you.

you dance across the bathroom floor, tiles both cold and warm under your feet as you make your move without any sound, afraid, afraid, like he would get pulled away the moment you touch him.

but he doesn’t go anywhere — just jerking a little at the sudden contact.

“satoru . .” hoarse, tired, it’s what he made your voice sound like just yesterday from shouting, and now, today, “i . .”

you cry quietly but never stop your ever loving hands, holding his face to look up from the shame, and you see how dull his cerulean ones look now, softened but dim, gentle but lacking vivacity. you think maybe it’s the tears hindering it. bit by bit, gojo’s tears fall and he apologises.

satoru apologises over and over, i’m sorry’s muttered into your hair, into your forehead, into your lips and both your hands are shaking like on a first date.

“i just can’t bear to lose you,” you mumble shakily, trembling fingers tracing the lines of his features, “and i hope you know how much you mean to me, and— and how much it hurts to see you so nonchalant about being beaten up like this . .”

you stifle a sob when he kisses your fingers as they travel over his lips, having crossed oceans over his eyes and mountains through his nose. his lips, his lips look just like the sanctuary of everything soft and good and righteous, that sliver of perfect time like on juliet’s balcony.

“i’m sorry, i am so sorry, darling. i—” gojo sighs, pain now turning numb but still trying his best not to move an inch, “i guess i just become so used to taking care of aunt may that, i . . am not used to being taken care of.”

you nod in understanding, “i’m sorry too, for lashing out, for dismissing your efforts to make me feel safe. you were only looking out for me.”

gojo’s eyes avert from yours again, looking down at the one thing that signified his place in society — never that much seen, not much recognised, but still revered as the city’s hero. it represents anything from something as simple as getting back an old lady’s handbag to fighting off a scientist-turned-reptilian. but it also represents the why.

why he fights so hard. a star student like gojo definitely wouldn’t pass off the praises when he saves a falling civilian, but it was much deeper than that when it came to it, wanting the city he grew up in to be safe and to seeing the grateful, relieved expressions of passers-by.

it was for you, when the last face he sees before he closes his eyes for the night is your pretty one and he’d be damned if that changed any time soon.

that night where satoru is all patched up and lying like a statue because he’s afraid he’d tear your nicely done stitches (you assured him it was mediocre at best), his hand finds your hand naturally again, playing with the strands aimlessly.

all thoughts of the news articles showing his cheeky spider mask expression, to the funky poses he pulls (from a camera so high up it would really only be one person who plants it there), phases out the cool, suave spider-man persona and centres the stupid, goofy, annoying gojo satoru.

and you smile softly to yourself knowing you’d be the only one to see gojo satoru like this. 

“i should’ve told you why; it wasn’t fair of me to just stop acting like we’re head over heels— hey, why are you smiling?”

“no reason.” and your smile brightens.

“that’s not no reason,” he matches your grin, pulling on your cheek playfully before his hand goes to your nape like clockwork and tugs gently. like you were just a normal couple after a long day, without any indication of a gash along his side, but gojo satoru was far from normal in the grand scheme of things, “there’s always a reason.”

“is that the motto that the great spider-man lives by?” you inch closer to him, smiling from above in the dimness of the room so much so that it makes you look like royalty and him a mere commoner.

“uh . . no, pretty sure it’s ‘with great power comes great responsibility’,” gojo jests with sarcasm laced in his voice, roping you in and you, letting yourself get caught always as you lower yourself on his chest, but not before your lips meet his in a soft, quiet dance with you both being the only ones in the ballroom.

the rush of love that fills you overflows in the way your mouth moves against his, not wanting this sweet, sweet dream to end. especially if you come out empty-handed at the end of it all with spider-man’s, gojo’s blood on your hands, so you keep your eyes shut tight with a promise to yourself to welcome him with welcome arms the second, third, fourth, nth that he climbs through your window, bloodied and tired.

“i’m still here,” satoru whispers against your lips when he feels just how tense you are, easing out the lines of your face and holds you in that moment, held frozen in time like a scene in a snow globe, “i will be here for as long as we are alive,” he takes your hand and puts it up to his heart to remind you of its status, of how it speeds up a tad bit when you stroke his chest, “and i am alive whenever you are near.”

the quiet moment is shared with another soft kiss, features now relaxed when you smile against his lips and inspire the next few moments of endless laughter and jokes, falling into the same breath when sleep catches up.

in the bathroom lies his white-turned-red suit, left abandoned for the normalcy you both chase in your bedroom for at least a few hours until spider-man has to go back to being spider-man and you have calc questions to finish up on. but until then, with the alarm you set at 6am in secrecy before his classes, you’d wake up just to soak and hand wash the red out, returning the blue and white suit back to its glory.

when satoru wakes up the next morning, he finally knows why your warmth in bed was missing for a brief moment of time when he sees the clean folded up suit with his mask on top. you don’t miss with a sandwich either, and a cheeky note — all the best for your most dreaded class!!! if u can fight and come out alive i believe u can survive prof. masamichi lol.

and he laughs softly, sparing a glance to your sound, peaceful self and he finds a renewed sense of the reason why he decided to become spider-man.

spider-man— satoru seals his love with a kiss to your forehead and a messy mumble of i love you, long overdue from the night before.

“thank you for loving me.”

[witchyafterdark]

—Sebastian Sallow Headcanons; pt. 2

• The Pros and Cons of being with him •

These are just some of the headcanons that might manifest if you ever think about dating this one of a kind man, Sebastian Sallow. Once again, these are my personal thoughts, so take them with a grain of salt. None of these screenshots belong to me. All credits to their respective creators and owners! 💚

・❥・ PROS

Being with Sebastian is like a breath of fresh air every single day.

Even in the most mundane of moments, he won't be short of new things and experiences to enjoy with you. He makes sure that you're always happy in his presence that every time you have to spend some time apart, you can't wait to see and be with him again.

Your safety and security is top-priority to him, in more ways than one.

He has no qualms in joining you break the curfew to go adventuring in the highlands. Whenever he gets the chance, he slips a vial (or five) of Wiggenweld Potions into your robes in case you go fighting spiders, trolls, and Ashwinders without him. And when you come back to the castle with scratches or marks on you, best believe he will fuss over you regardless if you're in public.

But it's the little things that really matter to him.

Whenever you spend the night in his dorm, he ensures you're comfortable in his bed; grabbing extra pillows, giving you an extra blanket so you don't end up struggling with him over it, and casting a warming charm over the foot of the bed to keep your feet cozy.

He might even start to buy ribbons or hair ties for when you need them but don't have any on you at the moment. You're thirsty? He has another water canteen for you. Your seasonal allergies bothering you? He's got another set of handkerchiefs just for you. Your neck hurts from being hunched over while reading? He won't even hesitate to massage the back of your neck in soothing motions. You missed breakfast? Don't worry, he pocketed and kept warm a bunch of fresh muffins just for you.

When you get sick, you can only imagine the things he would do to nurse you back to health.

Sebastian is actually an expert in time management. It doesn't matter if he has classes in fifteen-minutes. He would have asked the house elves to prepare you a hearty bowl of vegetable soup, personally brought it to your bed in the Hospital Wing, and he would truly spoon feed you without hesitation. He would also do all your missed homework for you, and duplicate all his notes for you to go through once you're well. And he will see to it that you're nursed back to health by hook or by crook. He will sneak up to the Hospital Wing in the middle of the night just to check if you're sleeping well, or if you're awake and you need anything from him. He's very, very caring.

Of course, not everyone is a fan of the Hero of Hogwarts.

So, when he hears some students spreading nasty rumors about you, or badmouthing you, he will see to it that this kind of defamation ends within the span of a day. He will not allow anyone to talk bad about you, and would protect your reputation to the best of his abilities; even if he has to... dirty his hands a lot.

You will always feel loved by him, in all the sense of the word.

Even though he would be mindful of his public displays of affection—he actually likes to keep more intimate moments with you a bit more private and "for his eyes only"—he doesn't shy away from holding your hand in public. One of the simple things he enjoys doing is to guide you around with his hand on the small of your back, always keeping physical contact with you. Sweet kisses, hugs, comforting words, unexpected and unprompted gifts, catching him staring at you lovingly (and him denying this cutely), and being at your beck and call are just some of the things he loves to give you.

Beyond the surface, he is actually very in-tune with you and how you fair in the relationship.

Sebastian can perfectly read a person within a given time period. He managed to become Ominis' best friend, who is quite aloof and very guarded. This is because Sebastian has a way of appealing to people in a genuine way. This quality of his definitely extends to your relationship with him. He already senses when you had a bad morning, or when you're not in the mood for anything. He also doesn't push you to explain yourself if you don't want to. He will, however, do whatever to make you feel seen and heard in the moment, and won't invalidate your feelings... as long as you see eye to eye.

→ His romantic and compassionate gestures would grow even further once you've both graduated from Hogwarts, and are free to explore the full extent of your relationship.

╭━━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━━╮

・❥・ CONS

He is aware of the weight of his baggage in life, and is quite stubborn about it.

(This one's not so much of a disadvantage but just something to keep an eye on).

Dealing with a lot of traumatic events and death of family members since childhood is bound to change anybody, and Sebastian is no exception. And since things just kept piling up on top of the other as he grows older, he is surprisingly stubborn and immovable about the things that has happened to him. The devastation of Anne's curse and the subsequent death of Solomon had left an indelible mark on his own perception of himself.

If there's one thing about him that you should know, it is that he refuses to be treated as a helpless victim of circumstances. Even if you're coming from a place of good intentions and wanting to help him overcome his trauma, he doesn't like to be helped unless he asks for it. And more often than not, he prefers to bury his emotional torment under a cool and controlled façade.

Talking about wanting to help him heal from his past is one way to push him into becoming emotionally detached from you. He'd rather swallow all the hurt than trying to heal from them; because dealing with them, no matter how beneficial it can be for him, will make him face his perceived weaknesses and supposed failures in life. And if you really push him to talk to you about these things, he will end up projecting all that trauma onto you and the relationship to "give you a taste" of what you're asking for.

With that said, he won't allow you to sway him from things he set his mind into—even if those things are deadly for him and the people around him.

To understand Sebastian, you only need to observe why he does the things he do. He doesn't do things without a purpose, without reason. But when his reasoning becomes severely clouded by his need to succeed, no amount of effort to persuade him otherwise will help your cause. In his mind, you're either with him, or against him. This laser-sharp focus and tunnel-vision can be viewed in a positive light. But too much of something can lead to the worst outcomes. And in his oldest friend's words, "he doesn't know when to stop." He doesn't go to sleep when he's tired, he goes to sleep when he's done. And while that is an attractive quality to a certain point, he doesn't know his limitations. That means he won't stop unless he gets what he sought out to achieve, even with the risk of life and limb.

In the same vein, he will do absolutely anything to get what he wants; and won't take no for an answer.

The ends justify the means for Sebastian. While he can be the type to think before he acts, what usually happens is that he thinks at the same time he acts. And if you ruminate about it, that kind of behavior can be quite alarming due to the notion that he thought about the repercussions or the moral standing of a certain action, yet still acting upon it. He knows what he's doing is wrong but have no problem justifying what he does without hesitation. In a life or death situation, this kind of attitude is beneficial because he can think quick on his feet. But you're not faced with life-threatening situations every single day. This makes you wonder... what kind of moral standards does he have on a regular basis? And what would happen to you if you get in the way of his plans?

On top of it, since he knows how to appeal to people's feelings, he doesn't hesitate to use that to his advantage very well.

Simply put, he knows which buttons to push in order to get you in his side. He will try to make you see that he's doing very questionable—or even downright heinous—things for the greater good. And he can do it in the most genuine, convincing way. He knows that you're attached to him, and he will monopolize on it for the other reason that he doesn't want to go against the person he loves.

But if you try to stand up against him, and try to persuade him into dropping what he's doing, his demeanor will immediately change. He will perceive your lack of cooperation as an act of betrayal, and will resort to other methods of manipulation.

And while he is also hurting from your direct disapproval, Sebastian can find ways to slowly but surely twist the nature of your relationship with him to get you to become co-dependent upon him to break down your defenses. This kind of tactic can eventually degrade the quality of your bond with him, and by extension, the way you behave with him over time.

If you decided to put your feet down and stand your ground against his decisions, best believe you're dead to him.

Sebastian can grieve the loss of his relationship with you, his beloved, but he won't ever let it show in public. It's as if he doesn't know you to begin with. In his mind, if you can betray him like that, then he shouldn't associate with you at all. No matter how painful it is to swallow the bitter pill of his new reality, he'll stiffen that upper lip and act as if it doesn't bother him at all. He is very, very stubborn.

(And yes, this is quite reflective of how he is with us post-credits because let's face it, him not speaking to us anymore was like a slap to the face. Even Duncan talks to us!)

╭━━━━━∙⋆⋅⋆∙━━━━━╮

So, do the pros outweigh the cons for you?

[yandere-romanticaa]

❦ smooth operator.

❝ his eyes are like angels, his heart is cold. ❞

yandere! dazai osamu x gn! reader.

a/n: this fic has no plot or direction, I gave birth to it in under 5 minutes while I was preparing for a quiz I have tomorrow, take it or leave it plebs.

In this world, there were plenty of people who believed in God, fate or just any unexplainable being which lived high up in the heavens, hidden away from the shackles and filth of humanity, as that same being also liked to get its kicks from mocking the poor, defenseless humans.

As you stand on the streets of Yokohama, the hustle and bustle around you became quieter with each breath you took, those striking brown eyes never once leaving your figure.

Perhaps Dazai was that mysterious creature people prayed to, you reckoned. It would make sense, given how he always seemed to have the answer to every question posed to him, the solution to every riddle anyone could ever come up with and then some. He most certainly had the charisma and beauty of an ethereal creature - his slender figure became a common occurrence in your dreams, his beautiful brown hair made you want to run your fingers through it for an eternity and his carefree laughter always made your heart skip a bit. Yes, the man known as Dazai Osamu was as beautiful as any angel.

But, he could be crueler than the devil himself.

With a smug smirk, Dazai crippled the love letter in his left hand, the other casually resting on his hip. His gaze was no better than a dark void - cold, empty, terrifying.

You wanted to cry.

Literally anything would be better than this. Let the ground swallow you whole, let a random car hit you and split your head in two, let some random mugger stab you in the gut and leave you bleeding on the ground - anything would be better than to deal with the humiliation of Dazai's rejection.

You wanted to be coy, perhaps even cute. The thought of giving the man of your dreams a love letter felt like the perfect way to confess your ever growing feelings for him and even if he said no, at least your good colleague Dazai could just laugh it all away, never to be brought up again.

And you would have been okay with that, truly, well, sort of...

Dazai says nothing for a good minute, his face giving no hints as to what he may or may not feel. Even if his gaze was schooled into that of stone cold, perfect nonchalance, his heart and soul were anything but.

Against your knowledge and better judgement, you played right into his hand.

For months, Dazai had been carefully orchestrating meet ups, hang outs and even random times when you would see him on the street. He was no better than a spider, a creature of pure and utter patience. He had woven his web of lies, charm and deceit and you ate up absolutely every single little crumb he had left for you.

Perfect.

In order for you to truly become perfect in his eyes, Dazai had to mold you at first. You posed too many questions at times, which he found to be bothersome.

He does not like dealing with any form of bothersome, especially if it's someone so damn cute.

In order for him to finally hold you how you wanted to be held (well, he sort of tricked you into feeling that way... But, that detail doesn't matter!), a crucial step was for him to break you in, to delete anything he did not fancy and just... Replace it. Make it better, nicer, safer for him.

And what better way to do so than by breaking your poor little heart in two?

It was cruel, yes, he was aware. It was all going to work out in the long run though, he knew so. Dazai was never wrong when it came to these things, never.

And by giving him this silly love letter, you gave him the ability to control you to the utmost extent. How delightful.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

If you're looking for prompts, I've got a little idea, ,,,, I wanna see Nik fight someone for John. Maybe some asshole doesn't like what he sees when they're outside together, or an enemy, or whatever suits your fancy, but Nik unleashing the beast and maybe going too far but no one touches his love while he's around. Nik losing control of himself for a moment and then waking up, feeling very bad about it all. Angst with comfort, you know :3c (if you haven't written anything similar already, of course !! )

Nik believes Price is dead. He tears the world to pieces in his grief.

cw: extreme violence, torture, child endangerment, no MCD. Nikolai goes off the deepend. (Also for Anon who asked for the same.)

Laswell had delivered bad news many times in her career. It usually started the same way. 'Please sit down...' and then you moved onto the facts of the matter - the ones you could actually tell them - 'they died in the line of duty, they were killed by... they served with distinction' - and finally, you finished with 'I'm sorry for your loss, the United States government is at your disposal if...'

She knew what the relative, or relatives, looked like at each stage. The disbelief, the cracks of emotion spidering through their eyes as they tried to keep themselves together, and then the inevitable disintegration. Some people wailed, others sobbed softly into their hands, one person had roared in anguish and dropped to the floor. Grief looked slightly different on everyone, but she had seen every permutation.

There was usually another family member to pick them up, to offer comfort. It was hard. People got through. They healed, or they didn't. But that, as brutal as it was, was none of her concern. She had no loyalty to them and no history.

Nothing in her career had prepared her for telling Nikolai that Captain John Price had been killed in the line of duty.

John's task force stood with her as Nik walked into the room. She had placed damn tissues in the table. Tissues. Like Nikolai, of all people, would disintegrate into weeping and mucus. Perhaps it would have been easier if he had.

"Laswell," Nik greeted her in his usual manner, eyes crinkled in the corners, his hands spread. He looked at the three men standing around her in turn and instantly noted a fourth missing. The one he looked for first every time. The one that owned his heart and soul. His gaze lingered on Gaz, whose head tilted as if to begin an apology, and then finally Nik looked at Laswell. "Where is the captain?"

"Nik, take a seat." She gestured at the chair next to the table. Nik glanced at it, and then looked back at her. There was no point insisting. He was as stubborn as John was... had been.

The facts. "On 8th October, the 141 were involved in a raid on a base in search of a high value target. The mission went awry, and John was... killed covering the escape of his men." She swallowed, lowering her voice. For the first time since she had learned the news herself, she felt a stab of pain in her chest. "I'm sorry, Nik."

She believed she had seen grief in all its forms, but what she saw in Nikolai's eyes added a new dimension to her understanding. It was like all the light vanished in an instant; the jovial, lively man she had known for years since he turned informant for MI6 dissipated like smoke in the wind. It was a silent death; his face turned hard, his eyes darkened, and his huge body seemed to expand, casting a bigger shadow. The Nikolai she knew, and loved in her own way, disappeared before her very eyes.

"How?" he asked, his voice no more than whisper.

"He was shot," Sergeant MacTavish stepped forward. The scar down his face was still raw; a livid red in the artificial lights. "Savin' us. Watchin' our backs. Like he always did." Soap pulled something from his pocket and slid it across the table to Nik's hands. A boonie hat, Laswell noted. "Don't even 'ave his dog tags tae give ye, I..."

Nik looked at the folded beige cloth in silence, his eyes moving left to right as if he was reading something from it. When he picked it up, he touched the folded rim to his lips and then his forehead, before gazing down at it in his palms. "Who?"

"Nik?" Laswell asked, watching him carefully.

"Who is to blame? Give me the name."

"Nik, I can't--"

"A name, Kate!" His voice snapped like a whip through the room, with all the impact of a gunshot. She saw the fury in his eyes, the sharp edges, the fury, turning his usually warm brown hue into two bottomless pits.

"Makarov," Lieutenant Riley said. "Vladimir Makarov."

"Ultranationalists." It rolled out of Nik's mouth like he was spitting poison from his tongue. The corner of his eye twitched, his lips curling in a sneer. Laswell often forgot how dangerous, how volatile, Nikolai had been in those early days, when his wounds were raw and open, before John had helped him heal into the best version of himself. But she remembered now as she watched those proverbial wounds split open again, rending through psychological scars long since faded. Nik said nothing more, but tucked John's hat into the loops of his belt as he turned to leave.

"Nikolai, whatever you're planning on doing, we must ensure you--"

"There is no 'we', Laswell," Nik said. "There is not even a 'me' anymore."

She watched him leave, her words lodged in her throat. No one else tried to stop him either. They had lost their mentor, their captain, their friend. Nik had lost his heart. She cast a glance at Riley. "If it gets bad, if he goes too far, it'll be you that has to put him down."

Soap scoffed. "Why'd we do tha'? Hope he gives 'em hell."

"The only thing that kept Nikolai on our side was John Price," she said. "And once he's finished tearing through Ultranationalists and realises it hasn't healed his grief, or brought him peace, who do you think a man like Nikolai will come for next?"

They stood in silence.

***

"König, ich möchte dich einstellen."

"Ha! Nikolai? Was ist mit Chimera passiert?"

"Dafür brauche ich eine andere Strategie."

***

"Do your worst. I have nothing to tell you," the prisoner spat, a globule and saliva and blood landing on the floor near Nik's boot. Nik had already torn out three teeth with pliers, broken his ribs and two fingers. The man, one Ivan Yegerov, was tied to the chair with rope and barbed wire, which meant every convulsion tore into his skin, leaving deep welts of rended flesh leaking onto the floor.

He wasn't the first. Not even tonight.

Nikolai had shattered Yegerov's friend's skull with the wrench propped up against the wall nearby. The blood had spattered up his bare torso, matting his chest hair, stained the side of his face. Shirtless, with a buzzcut he hadn't worn since his time in the Russian Air Force, he looked every part the madman he had become. He had ignored Laswell's attempts to contact him, leaving bodies for her men to find, with notes pinned to their foreheads containing their sins. She had stopped trying after two years, but he knew she was still following his blood trail.

Yegerov and his ally had been at the base in Ukraine and, with KorTac's help, it had been a simple matter of extracting key links in the chain for a conversation. Nikolai was tracking them down, one by one, and once he was done there, he would make his way slowly to the top.

"This is not an interrogation," Nik said as he ran his fingers over the tools on the table. "This is revenge. The interrogation will start soon."

Nik selected a serrated hunting knife and turned it over his fingers as he walked towards his captive. Yegerov leaned back in the chair as Nik planted his hands over his broken wrists, seething and whimpering in pain. "Do you know the best way to extract information?" Nik asked. Yegerov said nothing, so Nik squeezed his wrists. "Answer."

"Ah, no! No! I do not."

"They truly do not make terrorists like they used to," Nik said quietly. "I will tell you." Nik ran the tip of the hunting knife down Yegerov's cheek as he spoke, not quite pressing hard enough for it to cut in yet. "You must find a bargaining chip. Every man has something in their life that they cannot live without, a line they will not cross. It is their reason to breathe, it governs their actions, it helps them... find their limit."

Nik stood up straight and reached into his back pocket, his fingers skimming over the folded boonie hat threaded through his belt loops. The picture he pulled out was crumpled and worn, spattered with sweat and blood. It had been pristine when he had snatched it from the overhead screen of his Black Hawk, the rage running in torrents of tears down his face as he had pressed it to his lips.

He had torn himself out of it, because he looked nothing like the man he had; his hair buzzed down to a military shave, his body leaner, his eyes dead. Only John remained, with his big grin and his glittering eyes. Nik pushed the picture close to Yegerov's face as he had done with every man he had killed so far. "He was my line. My reason to breathe. And you took him away."

Yegerov squinted, terrified eyes lifting away from the picture of a smiling John Price to Nik's. Before he could say anything, the nearby door burst open and König forced two hooded figures through in front of him, one so small he barely reached his hip. "Ah, bargaining chips," Nikolai stood, throwing the hunting knife to the table. "Shall we find your line, comrade?"

König shoved his hostages forward to stand before Yegerov and then tore their hoods off. Yegerov let out a strangled wail of horror as he drank in the tear-stained faces of his wife and daughter. "No, no!"

"This is how it works," Nikolai said. "You give me name of someone who will know the current whereabouts of Makarov, and I will allow you to choose who survives." It was unlikely Yegerov would know anything. Nik just wanted him to experience the feeling of powerlessness as his loved ones died before his eyes.

The same feeling Nik had felt when he had been considering turning his Black Hawk towards the White House; suicide by F-15. Numb emptiness, desperation, a bottomless, writhing grief that shredded his heart. He had decided then to leave a trail of bodies in his wake first, only then would he join John.

"No, please... please, no."

Nik picked up his M9 and checked the magazine. "I count down; five, four..." He pulled back the pistol slide and turned the weapon first to the woman, who cowered, clutching her child's head to her chest.

"Please, she is just a child!"

"...three, two.."

"Wait! Wait! He's alive!"

Nik's finger lifted from the trigger just as he was about to pull it, settling along the barrel. He looked first to König, and then to Yegerov. "Repeat."

"He's alive... John Price," Yegerov said, almost hyperventilating. "Stop pointing that gun at my wife! I will tell you! Tell you everything. Please."

Nik hesitated. For the first time since this crusade had begun, he hesitated. He returned the M9 to the table and trudged back to his captive, both hands slamming down onto his broken wrists. "If you are lying to me, I will make you watch as I peel every inch of skin from your wife's body while she is still alive."

Yegerov swallowed. "On her life, he is alive. Prisoner 627. He is at a gulag in Petrovpavlosk. Please. He is alive. You can check using my... my passkey in our system. Do not kill my family. Mercy."

Nikolai looked at König who inclined his head, disappearing from the room to follow the lead. The two hostages sank against the wall, whimpering and shivering, and Nik straightened slowly. His fingers ghosted over John's hat, and then found his picture again. Hope was a dangerous thing and Nik resisted the heat of it burning in his chest. "Mercy is for those with a heart," Nikolai said. "You tore mine out the day you took him from me. Pray that we find him."

***

"This belongs to you, sir."

***

Price watched the drills in the parade square outside and wondered whether the drill sergeant noticed the trooper lagging slightly out of step in the third row.

The medics had cleared him to leave. There was a pamphlet about PTSD shoved in the side pocket of his bag, and he had weekly meetings with the base psychologist until they were happy he wasn't going to snap at the wrong moment. He wasn't sure what the road forward looked like, or how to even take the first step, but there was one person who he knew he wanted to be there when he did.

The door behind him opened and Price turned. The man that stood in the doorway was leaner than he remembered, his black hair cut in a military-short back and sides he hadn't seen for nearly a decade. Nikolai looked knackered, no better than Price did, which was understandable given what Price had been told.

Nik walked in tentatively, as if he felt like he was intruding, and that cut Price down to the quick. If there was one fuckin' person he had wanted to see all this time, it was the weary Russian pilot currently stood before him. He surged forward, wrapping his arms around Nik's broad chest and burying his face in his shoulder. Nik squeezed him back, just as desperate.

They held each other in the quiet, confirming, checking they weren't dreaming, until finally Price pulled away to study Nik's face. "Yer hair looks shit," he croaked.

Nik smiled, just as lopsided as Price remembered. "And your beard is bad."

"Least I had an excuse," Price said, scratching at the scruffy stubble on his jaw.

Nik's eyes saddened. "As did I." He lifted a hand and cupped Price's face, bringing their foreheads together. "My life ended when I lost you."

"Ya didn't lose me. Ya found me, didn'tcha? Tore the world to pieces, Simon said."

"My hands got dirty, John," Nik rasped.

"Dirty so that my men could stay clean.'

Nik lifted his face away, studying Price's eyes, looking for condemnation, anger, disgust. He would find none of it, Price was certain. All he felt in that moment was gratitude, relief, exhaustion.

"Laswell has agreed to waive my arrest warrant," Nik said, clearing his throat. "Under the agreement that I am to retire when we have defeated Makarov."

"Sounds fair. I've always thought ye'd make a good stay at home husband."

Nik looked startled, and Price leaned in to kiss the stupid look right off his face. Bewilderment broke into relieved laughter, and then eventually tears. Price held Nikolai's face to his shoulder as the sobs shuddered through his body.

"S'olright, I'm home."

[holylulusworld]

Election Time (1)

Summary: You thought he was your forever.

Pairing: Senator!Tony Stark x Wife!Reader, Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, language, wish for a child, betrayal, failed marriage, soft Bucky

Square filled for @buckybingo (expired): Square 7: Politics AU

Square filled for: @julybreakbingo (expired): Square 10: Betrayal fic

Election Time masterlist

You force a smile on your face and nod politely. The reporters cannot know you’re about to throw up at the thought of smiling for six more years.

Tony promised his last election campaign would be the last one. He lied, as so often. Over the years, Tony pledged to you so many things.

A quieter life. The end of his political career after six long years of having a public relationship. Children.

Your husband didn’t keep his promises, and you still didn’t get pregnant even after months of trying. The reassurance from your doctor that you’re healthy and fertile did nothing to help you keep your hopes high.

“What’s the secret of your happy marriage?” An ambitious young reporter asks. She was smiling at Tony like a love-sick puppy the whole time, and now she tries to land a punch.

Rumors about your possible infertility and Tony flirting with his election campaign manager Pepper Potts spread by Tony’s concurrent didn’t make your life easier.

“Love and devotion,” Tony answers before you get the chance to respond. “Honesty and support.” He says it without missing a beat. Ever the perfect politician—or liar—depends on if you are a reporter or his wife.

Again, you nod and smile like a perfectly trained dog. Tony grabs your hand, raising your arm with his to strike a winner pose. You wince because he forgot about the injury on your shoulder. The one you got because he wanted to try a new sex position, only to drop you.

A pair of steel-blue eyes watch Tony and you. Your bodyguard squares his jaw, watching your face contort in pain. He pushes off the wall to whisper something in the head of the security's ear.

“Senator, we should head out now,” Steve, the head of security, looks at Tony. “Sir, we are running late.”

“Right,” Tony clears his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he flashes everyone a stunning smile, “thank you for coming. I hope you vote for the right man in four weeks.”

Applause follows. It always does. Tony Stark is the kind of man drawing people in like the flame draws in the moth.

He finally drops his arm, releasing your hand. You struggle to keep a straight face and not wince again. Hiding your pain, you take deep breaths when someone holds out his hand. Bucky, your bodyguard, helps you down the tribune.

Tony is already chatting up Steve to make sure he checks every spot at the orphanage. As if anyone would try to attack your husband while he shakes the hands of some kids.

“Mrs. Senator,” Bucky chuckles when you make a face at his nickname for you. “Do you want to take the same car?”

“Not today. Tony wants to discuss his campaign with Pepper,” you shrug. It’s not unusual for you and Tony to drive in separate cars. “I can use the break, to be honest.”

“You shoulder,” Bucky softly says. He carefully touches your shoulder. “I’ve got something in the trunk to help you with that. It helps me with the scar tissue at my shoulder, too.”

“Always prepared, aren’t you?” you flash Bucky the first genuine smile. “Let’s go, Dozer.”

“That name again,” he laughs as he guides you out of the back of the building. Tony prefers to use the front entrance to bathe in applause and to give autographs. You are, as always, only an accessory to him. He forgot about you the moment he left the town.

Inside the car, you sigh deeply. It’s the first time you can breathe today. You close your eyes and take deep breaths while Bucky rubs pain gel into your skin. He kneads out the knots and kinks in your shoulders and neck.

“Hmm…you’ve got magic hands, Dozer.”

“I only ran through a door once, Y/N,” Bucky chides. “If I remember right, it was because you screamed.”

“It was a huge spider, Bucky,” you giggle when he grunts. “You threatened to shoot it.”

“I did shoot it,” he corrects while gently rubbing your skin. “You applauded and got me ice cream.”

“You saved me that day.” You smile to yourself. “And many more times since then. Not with your gun, but because you’re always there for me.”

“That’s my job.” He says, making it sound so nonchalantly. As if he doesn’t risk his life to protect you every day.

“Hmm,” you nod. “I should call Tony. He wanted to tell me which outfit to wear for the kids.”

Bucky makes a face but doesn’t say a thing. He watches you button up your blouse and presses his lips into a thin line. Bucky would never tell you so, but he despises your husband and the way he treats you.

“Tons, hey,” you huff when Tony mutters into the phone. He wanted you to call him, only to tell you he must talk to Pepper first. “Fine, just call me if you’re done.”

You drop your phone onto the seat and sigh deeply. Bucky grabs the phone to end the call when you hear Pepper’s voice. Tony must’ve forgotten to turn off the loudspeaker.

“So, are you still as happy as you pretend you are?” She asks, making you frown. How dare that woman ask your husband this kind of question? “Tony, look at me.”

“I’m just trying to keep up the façade until past the election. We are over for months, if not a year,” he casually says while your world shatters. Your eyes widen, and you press your hand to your mouth when you choke out a sob.

Bucky wants to end the call, but you shake your head. You opened Pandora’s box, and now you want to hear everything.

“I heard you’re trying for a baby.” She presses on, making you wince when Tony tells her he never planned on having a baby. It would only distract him from his goal to become president one day. “How did you not get her pregnant if you’re trying for a baby?” She huffs.

“I talked her doctor into prescribing her birth control, but to tell her that it’s vitamins,” Tony reveals. All those months you believed it was your fault you could not get pregnant. Now you know why you didn’t get pregnant. Tony manipulated your plans out of selfishness.

Tears roll down your face when Bucky brings you into his arm to let you cry into his chest. You whimper and choke out a sob, hearing Tony talk casually about his betrayal. You know your marriage got rocky lately, but this is no reason to lie to you.

Bucky ends the call. He doesn’t want you to hear more of their conversation.

“Do you want to go home?” He asks lowly. “Y/N? Where do you want to go? I hope you don’t plan on attending that shitshow.”

“I… I don’t know,” you sniffle. “All I know is that I can’t go home. I can never go home again."

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[fryingpan1234567]

so what if the Bats were Spiders instead?

in a different universe, Bruce Wayne grew up with arachnophobia instead of chiroptophobia. he found secret experiments in a lab beneath their family estate, and it didn’t take him long to pick up the family business.

neurotoxin experiments. spiders.

in a different universe, Bruce Wayne became Spider-Man.

in a different universe, Dick Grayson didn’t need to be bitten by a spider to pick up the Spider-Man mantle. he grew up knowing how to do all the acrobatics and combat anyways— all B had to do was give him web shooters and a suit. but there couldn’t be two Spider-Man’s. so he became Nightwing. but with a blue spider on his chest instead of a bird!

Nightwing’s webs come from his escrima sticks. they’re packing some serious voltage, so sometimes in a pinch he’ll use them instead of his police-issued taser. his favorite part about the whole spider thing is that he can fully just… throw himself off of buildings. and not die. he’s an adrenaline junkie, what can he say?

in a different universe, Jason Todd did everything the same. tried to steal the wheels off the vehicle of the most famous vigilante in Gotham. B picked him up and let him choose the spider and gave him the power to do good.

Robin “giving him magic” didn’t stop the Green Goblin from caving in his skull. although spiders you thought you’d killed do have a way of disappearing.

and returning. in a different universe, the Red Hood took the black widow as his mascot and nobody could do anything in Gotham City without him knowing about it. he single-handedly put down all the arms dealers in the city.

in a different universe, Tim Drake made his own spider. he’d been a fan of Thomas and Bruce Wayne’s work for his whole life, or at least since he learned how to read— and he figured he could get Spider-Man’s attention if he was able to replicate the project as young as he did.

oh, he got Spidey’s attention all right. befriending and adopting an alien symbiote will do that. player 4 has joined the game.

in a different universe, Venom is co-piloted by Tim, who really does like aliens. B thinks it’s a tiny bit weird, but while Tim is tiny his alien companion is very much not. it’s extra armor.

Tim works at the Daily Bugle. nobody knows how exactly he gets the quality kind of photos he does of Gotham’s Spider-family situation, but who’s complaining? he’s just really good at his job.

in a different universe, Cassandra Cain was bitten by a spider before she even met Bruce Wayne. her mother had trained her for combat for her whole life. she couldn’t prepare her for superpowers.

B was happy to help. in a different universe, rather than Cass becoming Blackbat, she took on the alias Black Widow. watch your back for her, though. she’s got the same deadly instinct in every universe.

in a different universe, Stephanie Brown became the first Spider-Woman. of course, she wasn’t the only one, but there’s something about being the original, isn’t there?

she knows she’s funny. she thinks it’s part of the job; it feels right. she’s the closest to the average canon Spider-Man. she could’ve been recruited to the Society at any point in time. and there’s something about that too.

in a different universe, Damian Wayne was born with superpowers. he’d inherited Bruce’s from birth. Talia was quick to hand him off once she realized her baby could crawl on walls and ceilings. the Spider Cave was getting a bit crowded, but what’s one more dangerous, unpredictable, biologically enhanced child? bring it on.

aside from Hood, Tarantula is the only Spider willing to kill a man on the field. yeah, as in. bird-eating tarantula. Robin. get it?

of course, in a different universe, he still had his katana. wouldn’t be Damian Wayne without it. his favorite thing is to swing down from a skyscraper with his webs and run through bad guys like kebabs. B says it’s immoral, but who can be mad about stabbing Doc Ock’s goons?

in another universe, Duke Thomas is the most famous member of the family. he’s the other closest to canon Spider-Man. he takes the day jobs, he talks to the press, he’s the least-hated at the Daily Bugle.

his webs glow. that makes night ops harder. so he sticks to the sunlight. people started calling him the Spider-Signal. which doesn’t make a lot of sense? but Duke is the kinda guy to just kinda shrug it off, because he’s not gonna take on the entire city’s press on his own.

Miguel O’Hara stayed the bleeding hell away from this universe. this group of bats spiders were too unpredictable to have in the Spider Society at all. there were no missions there, but constant surveillance. (until. you know. Miles Morales rocked up with a proposition to take down a tyrannical system with horrible judgement and a corrupted leader. and then Miguel couldn’t ignore the Wayne family anymore.)

how I love the multiverse. endless possibilities, amirite?

(please ask me to write more for this au. drabbles. more characters. PLEASE)

[mcu-coworkers]

Where do broken hearts go?

Miguel O’Hara x reader

Summary: You decide to do Miguel a favor and give him what he wants. or so you thought you did.

Word count:1k+

A/n: I came up with this at 1am:0 pt.2 is in the works

Parts: I^ II  III

Ever since the multiverse was disrupted he changed.

Little by little, day by day, you began to see it worsen. You began to see him worsen.

And there was nothing you could do to help him, he made that very clear.

You loved Miguel with every fiber of your being. It was almost embarrassing considering he barely did so much as look your way when he came home.

It wasn't always like this, and those were the moments you clung to when your thoughts were at their darkest.

Before all of this he was happy, we were happy.

The man   I   loved kissed me almost every second we were together and never went a day without telling me a cheesy punch line to get a laugh out of me.

When he proposed to you it was the happiest day of your life, you thought it could only get better from here.

You were marrying the love of your life. What could go wrong?

You understood him, or at least you tried but it was hard at times when the closest you could get to him lately was standing on the other side of the door to his office where he’d just ignore you some more.

The furthest you got was when you urged him to talk to you but all he said was “ You? What could you possibly do to help me? You don't even know what a cannon event is let alone an anomaly! Por dios.” and straight into his office he went.

As much as you loved your husband you knew that a minute more of this would kill you.

You were two strangers living under the safe roof at this point, he wouldn't even notice if you left.

So you did.

First you called your lawyer to prepare the divorce papers, next you found a place to stay, packed your bags and now you were ready.

You wanted to tell him face to face but as soon as you looked his way he shrugged you off once again.

“Not now Y/n  I   have reports to write for the spider society.”  and like always you were just another fly on the wall.

Sighing with tears brimming your eyes you grabbed a notebook and a pen.

You began writing a goodbye that he probably wouldn't even bother to read.

Dear Miguel,

Things haven't been the same for sometime now. It feels like the man  I   once fell in love with doesn't love me anymore and I've been hurting ever since.   I   feel like I'm holding you back from achieving your goal with all of these canon events and things  I   don't understand. I   can't live like this anymore and I'm sorry it took me so long to realize.   I   guess what I'm trying  to tell you is that I'm leaving. Next to this note that you might not even read is an envelope with divorce papers that I've already signed and left ready for you to give to my lawyer to finalize the divorce. Lastly,  I   want to thank you for giving me what will always be the best years of my life. I'll cherish them with everything  I   am and always smile at the beautiful memories we made together. I'm sorry things didn't work out the way we thought they would.

With love always,

Y/n L/n

You didn't realize at what moment you began to cry but you’d managed to stain the letter. At that point you had no energy to write the damn thing all over again so you just folded it up and left it on top of the envelope.

Taking off your ring and wedding bang you set them next to it and walked out the door.

Giving what was once your home one last look, you turned your back to it and let the cool air hit your face as you got in your car and made your way to the airport.

No more going back Y/n, no more Miguel O’hara.

Little did you know as soon as you’d closed that front door Miguel's head poked out of his office, you never went out this late at night.

“Y/n? What did  I   tell you about taking out the trash?  I  ‘ll do it.” he said as he came out of his office annoyed by your lack of communication.

“Y/n? Y/n! Donde estas mujer?” (where are you woman?) he spoke out as he walked around the house.

No response.

After checking all the rooms and coming up empty handed Miguel started to feel a tightness in his chest.

“Boss, you should see these reports.” Lyla said over his shoulder.

“Not now Lyla  I  ‘m looking for my wife.” he said, shrugging the AI off.

“You think that stuff on the counter will give some clues?” she said pointing towards the letters in the kitchen.

Stopping in his tracks he turned towards the kitchen.

There was no fucking way, he thought to himself.

You’d never do this to him.

But you did.

Opening the letter he read it and quickly that tightness in his chest got tighter and his body began to shake as he felt panic consume him.

“Miguel… that envelope.” Lyla said quietly hoping it wasn't what she thought. But it was and she could just see her boss begin to break.

Ripping the envelope open he realized this isn't some kind of sick joke from your part.

Seeing your signature at the end of the page broke Miguel to pieces.

He read over the letter over and over hoping to find some clue as to where you went so he could bring you back home to him.

He knew he'd been distant for some time now but he didnt know it had affected you this badly, if he did he would've changed.

He would do anything to keep you by his side. He thought that by coming home at a decent hour you'd be happy even if he was just in his office.

Well fuck was he so wrong about that.

Picking up your rings Miguel finally let go of the tears he’d been trying so hard to hold back.

The feeling of the cold silver in the palm of his hands was like a slap in the face forcing him to accept that you’d left him.

You left thinking he hated you and for that he’d never be able to forgive himself, not for that or any of this.

Taking a deep breath he tried to focus.

“Lyla, call Jess, tell her she's in charge of the spider society until  I find my wife and bring her home.” he ordered as he stood up walking towards your shared bedroom.

“Yes boss. Go get your girl back!.” she replied wishing him the best of luck before heading off to find his sub in.

Miguel had all the resources in the world, finding you would only take him seconds.

It was convincing you to come back that would be his biggest challenge.

But first he was paying a visit to your lawyer.

[sanyu-thewitch05]

F! Yuu’s Dad in Twst Wonderland pt. 7 because this picture is giving Malleus energy

Some days your father questioned if he had finally gone crazy from being in Twisted Wonderland or if he was having a mental breakdown.

Today being one of those days after hearing the doorknob jiggle in the middle of the night.

🦀: Grim, stay inside. It’s too late to be out.

🐈‍⬛: I’m right beside you.

🦀: Wait…who the fuck is at the front door then?!

Your father rushes to the front door with a baseball bat in hand and when the door opens he hits the intruder on the head.

🐦‍⬛: Ow! What was that for?

Your father looks down and sees the lockpicking tools in Crowley’s hands.

🦀: Why were you breaking into our dorm at 4 in the morning?

🐦‍⬛: Um…I was trying to prepare some extra glamour for when you wake up and see me in the living room.

🦀: So you were just going to sit on a chair and wait for us to come downstairs, instead of telling us at a normal time?

🐦‍⬛: Yes, it’s a very important announcement that!

🦀: What the fuck is wrong with the people here? Get out!

🐦‍⬛: But don’t you want to hear my announcement?

Your father feels a vein about yo burst in his head, and slams the baseball bat as hard as he can on Crowley’s head, knocking the bird man out cold.

He drags Crowley past Ramshackle, and encounters Malleus standing near a window.

🦀: Do you not sleep? Why are you here? I thought I told you stop loitering around our garden in the middle of the night?

🐉: Technically, I’m not loitering. I just want to see if Child of Man is alright.

🦀: You don’t have many friends in your life, do you?

🐉: Why is our headmaster’s body bloody?

🦀: Why don’t you stay on topic?

🐉: …fine💢 I’m leaving.

🦀: Don’t come back!

And so, your father places Crowley’s body in a horse stable nearby, and returns to continue his sleep.

Only to hear a bush rustling as he’s coming back inside. He pushes back the bush, and finds Malleus sitting on the ground playing with a small electronic toy.

🦀: Go home!

Malleus stubbornly leaves and your father finally goes back inside and crashes onto the bed. By the time he wakes up, you and Grim had already left for class.

Which leaves him plenty of time to do a much needed old hobby from when he was in the real world.

Doing house and yard work.

To begin his morning, he changed the locks and added a doorbell camera. Then, he added a couple more motion sensor cameras around the garden to capture odd people in the backyard at night.

To end his day, he took back the yard shed from spiders and other critters.

🦐: Hi, Dad. His was your day?

🦀: Good, did some work around the dorm. I cleaned out the shed so we can safely enter without worrying about being attacked by critters.

🦐: Awesome! By the way, have seen Crowley? No one’s seen him all day.

🦀: No idea.

It all was going smoothly until it was midnight, then you heard someone rapidly banging on the door, and hearing the knob frantically turn.

🦐: Dad, someone’s trying to get in!

Your father pulls out a tablet and loads the security camera footage.

🦀: It’s just Crowley. He’s upset I changed the locks, and he can’t break in anymore.

🦐: Nice, now he can stop eating my snacks when the pops up.

You hear a large thud, and get startled.

🦐: Did he just throw himself at the door?!

🦀: Yep.

🦐: Just when I think he can’t sink any lower.

You watch Crowley walk away on the security footage. Then, you see Malleus come onto camera and walk towards the side of the dorm facing your window.

🦀: Watch this.

Your father turns on the speaker for the security camera.

🦀: Malleus stop loitering around the dorm.

Malleus looks around the garden, trying to see where the voice came from.

🐉: Where are you?

That’s when a mischievous idea popped into your head. So take the tablet and start speaking

🦐: Malleus, we’re right in front of you.

🐉: I don’t see you. Are you using an invisibility spell?

🦐: No. Can’t you see our yellow covered walls?

At the perfect time, the house creaked from the pipes cooling off.

🐉: Are you the walls? Like that one movie you showed me?!

Your father has to hold his hand over his mouth to prevent his laughs from escaping.

🦀: Malleus…we-we are one with the house. We died and now our spirits have possessed the dorm to keep our memory alive.

🐉: NOOOO!!

Your father turns off the speaker, and the two of you bust out laughing.

You look at the security camera footage and see Malleus hugging the walls.

🐉: I won’t let go! I’ll take of your beautiful gargoyles on the rooftop-or your head forever!

The two of you continue laughing at Malleus’s dramatics.

Unfortunately, when you woke up, you saw all of your friends standing outside and watching Malleus hug the walls while crying.

You peek out the curtains and accidentally make eye contact with Lilia. You quickly shut the curtains and sit on the floor.

🦇: Malleus, they’re not possessing the house. I just saw Yuu open the curtains.

🐉: Then how do you explain their voices coming from the house?

📱: Their security cameras have speakers. It was pretty obvious. Even a total dweeb could figure that out.

You peek out from below the curtains and make eye contact with Malleus before leaning back down.

Malleus goes still for a moment before he pops in front of you. He smiles and throws you over his shoulder.

🦀: Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?

🐉: Playing a joke.

Malleus teleports outside with you on his shoulder, and runs away from Ramshackle at max speed.

You can’t help but smile as you see Lilia’s grin and your father’s shocked and pissed off face.

🦀: COME BACK WITH MY DAUGHTER YOU HORNED FAE PIECE OF SHIT!

Your father runs out of Ramshackle wearing his slippers and robe, running at max speed.

For what is worth, you loved that your father could experience Twisted Wonderland with you.

[austinsastrology8991]

> Saturn ASPECTS < and why you ain't getting the respect you deserve Saturn puts you in shitty cycles/ patterns to make you; by breaking you > and when you inevitably return to these struggles, you'll realise you've mastered his circuits

yes i had break, im back now. so get over it.

Saturn aspecting Sun - loosen up. but everytime you do, something else fucks up. so now your the most rigid person. its hard to have a good time with yall, because you take things so seriously, but damn do you exceed when shit needs to be taken seriously - because your so careful in your movements 🚶‍♂️. they tend to have a habit of stating the obvious then smirking about it, which is so confusing because like we all knew that, but why you acting like you did something? this type of shit is why people struggle to chill around you, but ill ask for your advice about real shit because your obsessed with being an authority and like thats the only way to approach you guys without getting iced by you Saturn aspecting Moon - Stop crying. oh wait i meant to say; start crying. jesus you got some fucked up villainous back story but your stone walling everyone because it hurts too much to even open up to anyone. because i mean whats the point? if everyone is just going to tell you "its going to be okay" when you never feel okay. feels bad man, and you know better than most how bad feels.. man.. so i guess saturn wants you to accept how cruel the world is, and how that affects everyone, so you are more prepared for bad circumstances then most. hardly a positive spin, ik.. but its to prepare you for your future. and you have no idea why you must go through so much pain - but there is a reason, and it will become clear later, so better utilize that energy to your benefit; because its just another one of saturns bitch cycles

Saturn aspecting Mercury - when you speak, people try there best to one up you, but your a master at it by now > passive aggressive, or authoritative - who gives a fuck if you belittle the other person, because i mean if your right, then you right. so better off writing it into reality, rather than watch everyone clown around with the wrong answers. but speaking ths way to others, really does make it hard to talk to you, even if you right, your just a fkn asshole. so honestyl. stop trying to figure out the right answer, and think about whats the right thing to say. stop pretending to be an authoritative speaker if no one even wanna listen to you, and start owning what you say more. Saturn aspecting Venus - joecly flores on repeat. okay i get it. you dont believe in love, because you see it how it is. well. its not actually how it is. youve ruined all your chances of anyone ever gonna love you because you think being all cold and mysterious is attractive (and it can be) but i mean who tf wanna love someone like that. its like riding a bike uphill. i mean i dont wanna do that. like these people are always attractive, but their attitude is so hard to ignore, its like trynna make a spider smile. thats why people reject you more than anythng else. and Ik that your just trying to find the real ones, but guess what, everyone that ever talked to you/ flirted with you, liked you.... oh thats too shallow or optimistic? my bad Saturn aspecting Mars - I never do anythng right ;(((((( well you actually do a lot right, but your always doing too much. your so obssessed with perfection and being a high achever that you've forgotten everything you've achieved becayse your so focused on the next one. if you just reflected on how much you work; in comparison to most, youd realize you are big achiever, and you dont understand reality as well as you think. well okay you do undersatnd reality extremely well (because you try so damn hard lol) but you've lost your sense of self because you still dont think your worth it till you achieve the next thing- hence the cycle of working yo ass off - but hey you'll achieve a lot, you just need to perfect your perfectionistic tendencies -then youll finally be perfect! (get it) Saturn aspecting Jupiter - i think this aspect is one of the coldest. because these people try so hard, but get no where for the majority of their life. till they change perspectives and realize if they try harded else where, they'd get launched into success. i mean the amount of people who are successful - and i mean hugely successful > have this aspect - and everytime it was due to massive luck. however only they could grasp the 'lucky' opportunity, and that initself makes their achievements so much cooler than others. remember its jupiter, so all your 'hardships' inevitably become your greatest 'luck'. the white guy from 'sean of the dead' has this, and look at how much he impacted movies in general... jus saying mad props to that guy and to yall

Saturn aspecting Uranus - okay these guys are outcasted from society hard, due to some bullshit, but when they get recasted back into civilization they become someone who can change society at large- but its gonna take so much work... their perspective has been molded differently to most because they've been alone for so long. they have strange ideas that somehow work into tangible assets. perfect example : eminem - i mean hes basically best case scenario with this aspect, but hey why not try for best case scenario? but then again he made that hamster song... so i mean not always best case scenario... THats the price of neglect you could say lmao. Saturn aspecting Neptune - your imagination is your greatest challenge but also the key to your ultimate glory. like Michael Jordan had this aspect and well he was hella delusional. until he wasnt.... but its hard to say how much this benefited him... because both stages of his life - pre glory - and; glory - he was heavily isolated from everyone, and (likely) suffered in seclusion, by placing so much importance on his dreams. saturn wants you to master the 'spiritual world' i.e. imagination and dreams, and this causes anxiety that their dreams will just be dreams. which is what makes them put so much effort into it becoming real... then they realize the price of it all when its too late. so just make sure your aware of what your manifesting because if anyone can make it, its you. (achieving ur dreams) Saturn aspecting Pluto - how powerless do you feel. you do realize people can see how thirsty you are for respect/power, because they can sense your insecurity from past exepriences, and thats why your easy to play with. but do not worry. you will attain true power with enough effort. not just a bullshit image of power. because you've been pushed into the most vile trials to have ever have existed, and its only so that when you become someone powerful, you utilize your power properly, and do not step on others, because you know damn well how much it hurts to be stepped on. so your power is > saturn. your trials are so intense, and you're basically broken, but things that are broken know how to cut others (like broken glass). and well saturn wants you to master this > pluto > the darkness. and it makes reaching the top so much more palpable, because you'd feel like you earnt it. but you can make others insecure about what youve overcame so you better be humble, or saturn will fuck you. no honour among thieves, and we know you experienced that, but the kings play different, and you gotta adapt or saturn will flatten you.

[not-the-cheese]

one(ish) sentence summaries of every magnus archive episode PART 3 (111-154)

HELLO FRIENDS In honor of one of my friends starting tma i am posting the rest of what i have for this series

I'm going to be honest, i wrote all of these like a year and a half ago so i don't even remember if all of them are as accurate as i thought they were at the time so tell me what u guys think ( ALSO IM SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO POST THESE)

if you guys want more i can be convinced to relisten to the series and finish this and also send me asks i love getting asks

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111. god fuck he just wanted his friends to call him gerry

112. guys I have a great idea for a game it’s called murder tag and there are no downsides I promise

113. sweet dreams goodnight don’t let the carbon monoxide poisoning bite

114. cleaning lady takes a trip to mandela effect land

115. ship cook discovers an infinite meat glitch!

116. oh god the unknowing ritual is fnaf security breach

117. alright guys it’s time to prepare for clown time let’s do a roll call

118. martin burns some stuff and gets traumatized while Jon and the homies are sneaking through an interactive wax museum.

119. ah fuck it’s clown time

120. omg! you were in the archivist’s dream last night! so cool!!

121. dude I’d KILL for a good night’s sleep

122. the worst person you know tells you about their "new philosophical theory" for 24 minutes

123. man is scammed into being the helpless mod for murder reddit

124. old man ruins our austrian mountain trip with impromptu skydiving

125. bagpipe music makes an entire town do a The Purge (2013)

126. man is so shit at sculpting that it literally makes four people loose their minds

127. hey guys… eye am not feeling so well…

128. skinwalker delivery man mourns the loss of his skinwalker delivery husband

129. we needed this rain

130. HOT SINGLES IN YOUR AREA WILL FILL YOUR HOLE WITH MEAT

131. I get the guy who turns peoples’ bones to turn my bones and also tell me the story of how he started turning peoples’ bones

132. MAN OPENS COFFIN. WE ARE VERY WORRIED FOR HIM.

133. My son’s weird boyfriend is a little too invested in my treasure hunt.

134. journalist takes a short and awful trip to dystopia land and it gives both her and adelard decker an existential crisis .

135. let me tell you about our lord and savior: shadow jesus.

136. my boss does a reverse pinocchio.

137. I am saved from the real horrors of war by spooky ghost horrors of war.

138. my dear jonah, it seems my years of fucking around have finally caught up to me, and I am nearing the time in which I will find out.

139. Local cult cooks up an antichrist and then deals with the terrible consequence: parenthood.

140. 17th century homoerotic rivalry between an astronomer and shadow jesus

141. our captain got depressed and then made us all steal a camera

142. hey sorry your archivist got addicted to eating trauma. yeah he’s just watching people on the street now. yeah he’s pulling statements from them like teeth. yeah he’s been showing up in my dreams and he is all eyes.

143. we KILL this evil orb using the power of looking at it too closely

144. math podcast makes man foresee the end of the world

145. gertrude drops the hardest diss track of the century on the desolation / part 2 of local cult’s adventures in parenthood

146. man is stalked by a sneaky door.

147. the archives is stalked by a sneaky spider lady.

148. Security camera guy loves his job so much that he becomes a security camera.

149. weird trash art in the Amazon rainforest bites researcher

150. HOMOPHOBIC SUBURBAN HOUSES

151. have you ever played aquarium tycoon

152. let me introduce you to the world of recreational dirt naps ( I am not asking )

153. evil worm polycule

154. i quit my job and my hot goth wife kills me.

Part 1 | Part 2

[byunpum]

Hifwo

Pair: Neteyam x Y/N human reader

Warning: All characters are in their 20s (grow up), flirting, size difference, mmm I think nothing else

Request: (Anon) I was thinking about a neteyam x fem!human!reader. Reader is a short girl, maybe 4'11 (1.48) and Neteyam takes advantage of it and corners her to the wall...

AVATAR MASTERLIST

It was the fourth time Neteyam had checked that you were safe in the place where he had left you. You wanted to go hunting with him. Lo'ak had invited you to go for a walk with him and spider, kiri and tuk but you preferred to be with him. He liked you to stay with him, so you would see and learn how to hunt. But on the other hand, he was a little nervous about you being in a place as dangerous as the jungle of pandora. You were a human, anything was bigger than you, including him. Neteyam comes down from the branch he was on, causing him to make a startling noise as he falls right in front of you. You look up in alarm, and frustrate your brow. "teyam you scare me!!!" you whine a little, but your attention returns to the notebook in your hands. You were drawing some mushrooms that were next to you, they were very brightly colored.

"Sorry babe, but you're distracting me" neteyam says, coming a little closer to sit right in front of you. Touching your naked feet, he liked to play with your little toes. You laugh when you feel his cold hands, touching your feet. "Me? Why? I haven't moved from here" you speak, working on your drawing. "'Babe…" neteyam pauses, lowering his head to your knee, to kiss you on the knee. You look up, laughing at the action. You knew that neteyam's way of showing affection was more physical than yours, at first it made you uncomfortable. But by now you were used to it. This poor man was just asking to be loved and pampered after a busy day of chores that his father usually ordered him to do.

"You are so small, any creature could eat you" says neteyam, now he was sitting down. You laughed at his comment, you knew he was right. But you were not as weak as you looked, you knew you could run away from any creature. "Teyam you offend me, you know? I think I am very good at running away, not fighting…but I can run fast" you speak, with a tone of playfulness. Neteyam just looked at you with adoration, you were so cute. "Mmm I don't think so" says Neteyam. You lift your back a little off the back you were sitting on. Giving a punch to neteyam's chest, neteyam just watches as your punch doesn't have any effect on him. "Ok, I give up… but that doesn't mean I won't do my best to run away" you say.

Neteyam is silent for a moment, he was thinking what he would do in his next move. He chuckles to himself, as he begins to rise to his knees. " You think you can run away, ah?" asks neteyam in a flirty tone. As he lines up and slides over your body. Which in a matter of seconds, was covered by neteyam's. His whole body created a blanket that covered every view you had of you, raising your head to see neteyam's cute face. He had an idiot's grin on his face, analyzing how small you had become underneath him. You try to speak, but the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a 'I-hum-'. You were blushing so hard, damn it he knew the effect it had on you. Netayam bends lower, so that he is now close to your ear.

You could feel his breathing, his hot breath hitting the skin of your neck. "The creatures I speak of are much larger than me… they would have no mercy on you" neteyam places one of his hands, on the side of your thigh. Squeezing the soft skin, moving his palm gently up and down. Your breathing becomes more heaving, it was making you very nervous. "They would devour you in seconds" neteyam now leaves a kiss on your neck. Causing you to giggle from the tickle. "Nete…" you whimper a little. The feeling in your lower belly was building up, but he just replies you with a 'hmmm' as he continues to leave kisses on your shoulders and neck. You were grateful for the outfit kiri had prepared for you, it allowed neteyam to have all the access he wanted to your body.

"would you like to know how long it would take me to devour you?" neteyam pauses from kissing, waiting for an answer from you. You, as best you can, place your hands on the sides of her face. Your hands were so small, you could barely hold part of his jaw. You approach him to give him a soft kiss on the lips, now making eye contact with him (if you want to know more about the type of oxygen mask the reader uses 'read here'). Neteyam gives you a smile, and copies your movements. But now he settles more on the ground, so that he lies more on his stomach. Causing you to spread your legs, allowing him to settle more on top of you. Kissing your neck, moving down your chest to leave some wet kisses. Feeling your hands tangle in his hair, feeling your hands push him further down…right where you were needing him most.

Kissing and giving a few soft bites on your stomach. Enjoying the difference in texture of your skin, so soft and delicate. Dragging his body further back, placing his hands on either side of your hips. You now bring your legs up, watching as one of neteyam's hands moves one of your knees to open the space between your legs.

You two were so intent on your business that you had barely heard the lazy noises that were approaching you. Neteyam in a quick, and almost minimal movement moved up towards your lips giving you a sloppy kiss. "I don't see you running…don't you plan to run away?" he joked, seeing how your cheeks were pink, your mouth half open. And your pupils dilated, waiting for him to do what he wants with you. "So pretty" says neteyam.

"ahhhh my eyes!!!" screams spider. Neteyam and you look in the direction where the scream came from. Noticing lo'ak, kiri and spider. Even tuk…who had her mouth open. Spider runs up to tuk and covers her eyes. You push as hard as you can on neteyam, and he quickly sits up. Trying to adjust some of the clothes he had moved from his previous actions. Neteyam crosses his legs tightly and tries to cover his growing bulge with his hands. "You two can't be doing your stuff over here" kiri speaks, the girl was furious. You shift your gaze, you were embarrassed.

"I don't see you running,eh?" lo'ak tries to imitate neteyam's voice. "You can go…why don't you take tuk to the village" says neteyam, sounding annoyed. His brothers were still bothering him, and you were hiding more on the log.

The group of boys walk away, but if not before they continue to joke about the scene they just saw. Neteyam looks at you, and can see that you are almost completely hidden in a bush that was next to you. And he couldn't contain his laughter. "What are you laughing at?" you are embarrassed, the least you wanted is for your friends to see you in that situation. Neteyam approaches you again, placing his hand on your neck. "I see you can really run away…you're practically hiding in this corner" neteyam bends down to brush his nose against yours. "How about we go somewhere else…yeah?" says neteyam. You stare at him for a couple of seconds, quickly picking yourself up off the ground starting to run as fast as you can. Listening as neteyam laughs, and starts to get up from the ground. Letting you run for a while, after all it was only fair that he gave you a head start.

[clovermoters]

Black and (Fluro) Yellow

🕷️ln4 x reader

🕷️ lando if he was spider-man

🕷️warnings: panic attack, kinda angst idk

🕷️notes: hi the fluro suit had me thinking and this

🕷️ a/n: this is barely edited and kinda bad but enjoy!! <33 also im trying to write more so gimme ideas

The final bell rang through your ears as the school day ended and the bustle of the weekend was underway. You packed up your books, waving a polite goodbye to your teacher and made your way to your locker. You felt a pinch in your side and you swung your head to find your boyfriend, Lando looking at you with a goofy smile. “Hey where did you come from!?” you smile up at him while you continue to empty your belongings into their home for the weekend. “Calculus, i swear if i have to listen to that man talk about quadratics for another minute i'm going to lose more brain cells than gain.” he complains. “Well at least now we get to go and do nothing.” you say as you wrap your arms around his waist and place your chin on his chest. “About that..” he sighs and you know what's coming.

He's been blowing you off for weeks. It started with little things such as not saying goodbye before leaving school or not seeing each other between class periods. But now he's been completely ditching you. He refuses to tell you why and you’re starting to worry if you’ve done something wrong. You deflate as you prepare to ask him what the excuse this time is when your phone chimes in your pocket. “Oh it's laur..” you click the link your friend sent, you gasp “what the fuck”. Lando looks at you puzzled as you flip your phone around to show him.

It's a video of the new vigilante known as “spiderman” beating a man to a pulp in some alleyway, throwing punch after punch until the man was on the ground bloody and bruised. Once the beating was done Spiderman is shown swinging away before the video cuts off. “Did he just kill that guy-” “No. he didn't.” Lando cuts you off quickly. The slightest clench in his jaw and tense in his shoulders did not go unnoticed. “Well how can you know for sure…he was hitting him pretty hard.” you counter. “You can see the guy moving before he swings away.” he says firmly, as if he knew this as a fact. Spiderman showed up about a month ago, earlier sightings of him have consisted of him helping cats down from trees and escorting the elderly across the road. The public had grown to love him and his friendly neighborhood activities. But recently, he's been violent and the city has been working to catch him. Unfortunately with the identity of the spider being unknown, the police have come back empty handed. Lando gently takes your hands into his as he changes the topic “Look, I'm sorry but Max wants me to help him with his physics homework and he's got a test tomorrow. So I will see you tomorrow okay?” he says softly. He can see the hurt in your eyes as you give him a slight nod and a quick kiss before walking off towards the bus station.

Lando hates how he's been treating you these past weeks. Blowing you off for shitty excuses that he knows are shitty but he can't stomach telling you the true reason why. He's watching you walk off as he feels his best friend clap him on the back of his neck “you ready for tonight boss?” Max says in his ear. He notices Lando's stare and follows his eyes to where they've been trained to follow. “No lando we cant think like this” shaking his head. “You'll see her tomorrow.” he firmly reassures his friend who's beginning to question the late night activities he's been doing for the past month. “I'm not sure about that max..” he sighs “i cant keep watching her deflate everytime i cancel on her” he says quietly. “You could just tell her-” “NO.” Lando shouts, shooting his head towards max. Telling you would be like pouring sea salt into an open wound. Lando would rather give up everything, than tell you the truth about where he is at night. “Okay okay! Don't tell her, but either way..you're going out tonight.” Max says, putting his hands up in surrender as he begins to walk towards the student parking lot to his car. He turns around towards Lando who's still stood next to your locker staring in the direction you walked off in. “you coming or what?” After a beat of contemplation, with a heavy sigh, Lando makes his way to Max's car.

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

You were sat on your bed, doing homework on your ipad. You Glanced at the time, double taking the clock sat on your nightstand when you see the number it read. Holy shit. you’ve been here since you got home at 4pm…it was now 6:30 pm. You jump off your bed and quickly check your phone, expecting a million texts and calls from Lando wondering what you're doing and complaining about Max's inability to understand the basics of physics.

Nothing. Not a single text.

You feel your heart drop. He hasn't texted you in 5 hours when he asked you to meet before you left school for the week. The tears prick your eyes as you check your other notifications seeing nothing from your boyfriend. Could he be cheating? No. he would never do that to you. But would he?

Your thoughts race through your mind as the panic begins to set into your chest causing your breathing to become uneven. Your vision starts to swim and your phone falls to the floor, your arms going numb. You hear your mom call your name for dinner but the noise goes in your left ear and immediately out the right. As if you have been submerged underwater. You feel your legs give out and you land ass first at the foot of your bed.

The loud thud heard from the kitchen causes your mom to shout for you again to pulse check.. When nothing was heard back she rushed upstairs to the source of the noise. When she finds you in hysterics she's in front of you instantly, cupping your face to wipe the tears. She helps you steady your breathing and bring you back down from your panic attack. “What's got you so worked up sweetheart?” she softly asks and she moves to your side. You explain everything that's been going on with Lando recently. She thinks for a moment before she speaks up “how about, we get some food in you. Then I drop you off at his place and you two can talk this out.” she offers. You give her a small smile, nodding as the two of you get up and make your way downstairs to eat dinner.

-----

You stare at the apartment door marked with the 4 before you bring your hand up to knock. The door opens revealing landos Mom, Cisca. “Oh hi honey what brings you here?” she asks, letting you inside the apartment. “I was hoping Lan was home.” She gives you a sympathetic smile, shaking her head. “No not yet, but he should be soon. How about you go wait in his room for him and I'll bring you a cup of tea.” you nod weakly and wander towards Landos room as Cisca moves to the kitchen. You leave the door ajar and lie on the bottom bunk of his bed, eyes darting around the room, flashing memories of the past 2 years that have been written in the walls. You turn your body towards the wall snuggling into the comfort of Landos smell embedded into the sheets you’ve spent countless hours in. your eyes start to feel heavy as sleep takes over your body. deciding a small nap while you wait couldn't hurt, you let your mind drift off.

-----

You’re woken by the sound of the window opening. finding that you're still alone in lando’s bed you sit up hoping it's him just opening up the window. You look over to find the window open, yet no one next to it. You think nothing of it due to the wind and sit up to reach for the cup of tea Cisca left you on the nightstand while you slept. You sip your tea sat on the bunk as your eye catches a figure on the ceiling. Yes, the ceiling. You see that black and fluorescent yellow suit you’ve seen all over social media for the last month crawling around on the ceiling of your boyfriend's bedroom. What the fuck is spiderman doing in Landos bedroom?! You thought to yourself as the man gently lowered himself onto the floor and reached for his mask, removing it.

And that's when you saw him.

Those curls you run your fingers through whenever you get the chance to. Those curls you help tame when he takes his hat off after a long day. Those curls you love with your whole heart. Those curls which belonged to the boy you loved who was currently standing with his back to you, wearing spidermans suit.

You gasp, causing lando to look up and freeze. He doesnt turn around to face you, he knows who he's going to see. He knows it's over. The moment he's been dreading since that spider bit him that night. He's going to have to explain his past month and a half to the one person he didn't want knowing about this. The one girl he wanted to keep protected from this new hobby he's got himself tangled up in. and yet here he was frozen, staring at the picture frame sitting on his dresser.

The picture of him and you from the first time you went to the London eye. The picture is you two at the top with Landos hands around your waist and your arms swung around his neck. Your faces are squished together wearing the brightest smiles on your faces. Looking back, Lando wishes he could stay in that moment forever, frozen in time. But he knows that can't happen.

He slowly turns around to face you and look you in the eyes. Your lips slightly parted due to shock and hair slightly messed up from your nap. The mug slips through your fingers and falls to the floor shattering and spilling the lukewarm tea. “Shit” Lando whispers as he springs to action, grabbing the towel from the back of his door to soak up the tea, he looks up to you “are you okay? No cuts?” you're frozen, unable to speak, staring at him in that suit. All you can do is nod at him while he gently picks up your feet, placing them loosely on his bed while he cleans up the broken mug. You pick at your fingernails anxiously while you wait for him to finish cleaning.

After a few minutes he sits down next to you, freshly changed into a hoodie and sweatpants. Your eyes are trained on your lap where your hands sit pulling on the thread of the hoodie that you’re wearing. After what feels like hours of silence you’ve had enough “why didn't you tell me?.” you demand, you want answers. You want to know how your boyfriend and who you considered to be the love of your life became the person who you see brutally abusing people in alleyways. He turns to look at you, eyes full of regret. He opens his mouth to answer you but you cut him off, cupping his face. “fuck what happened?!” you stand up looking for a first aid kit when lando stands up to stop you, grabbing your hands “baby, baby stop it's okay max already helped me clean it and it’ll heal by the mornin-” “MAX KNOWS??!??!” you shout a little too loud for lando’s liking. He puts his hand over your mouth, shushing you so you don't wake his mother. “yes max knows because he was with me when it happened” he explained calmly, hoping his emotions will radiate onto you.

He slowly releases your mouth and you sit back down “are you gonna let me explain to you how this happened now?” he raises an eyebrow waiting for your answer. You give him a nod to continue and he takes a deep breath.

He began to explain how one night walking home from your house with max a radioactive spider bit him. He explains how Zac Brown, one of the richest men in the country, approached him and helped him understand his powers and the new responsibilities that come with them. He even was the person to make Landos suit for him.

“I'm really sorry that I’ve been a shit boyfriend recently, i never wanted you to get caught in this” he says, playing with your hands. You can't help but giggle “Here I was thinking you were cheating on me yet you were out fighting crime.” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead before resting it against your own “never in a million years my love” he says. “How about we get some sleep?” He smiles, squeezing your hands intertwined with his. Agreeing that this conversion should happen with a good night's rest. The two of you move to lie down in Landos bed cuddled against one another. Your head rests on Lando’s chest with his arms wrapped around you like you'd disappear the second he let go. As sleep beings to take over you hear a faint “i love you” coming from the boy beside you. You look up to see him already meeting your eyes “i love you too” you smile, kissing his chest before falling asleep with him safe and sound.