#ignore how i switched up her colors

[designatedkilljoy]

nene ur so cool

[wasyago]

Falls in, i would love to hear about this decked out/failed cave exploration au pls pls pls already i am Bewitched

hehehe [in tango's voice] sighh i suppose...

really im very tempted to just let it sit and not tell anything, because it's so fun seeing people theorize and point out details in the notes. but yeah i guess i shouldn't gatekeep it, its a fun au!

i do want to state in the beginning that it was a one-off thing and i have no plans on continuing it or drawing more for it. if you do tho? feel free! (not asking for fanart by any means, but giving the green light if anyone was wondering)

well

-------

Pet crew were a group of cave explorers. They're no experts by any means but they were no amateurs either! (ignore the fact that they're not wearing any PPE, i didn't want to draw it, ok--) And recently they've been excited about mapping out a new cave system they found, completely unexplored according to their research.

Tango, always a big lover of his plans and spreadsheets, presumably decided to go in alone ahead of time to sketch out at least a rough draft for a map, so they had an idea of what they're going to be dealing with.

But see, this cave is not an ordinary cave, no matter how pristine and untouched it looked. It is one gigantic organism of unknown origin, and a hunrgy one at that, the air inside it is filled with little cells or spores that, when inhaled enough, start taking over the body and corroding it to the cave's will. Killing the host in the process.

So, obviously, after spending some time in the cave by himself, Tango did get some cells in him. Not enough to be noticeable, but enough to give him a headstart on the corruption when the group went in for a proper dive some days later.

The first symptoms of undergoing the change are pretty standard: light fever, weakness, dizziness — easy to mistake for a flu.

Which is exactly what Tango did. Of course, going caving with a flu is not a smart thing to do either, but the group has been planning this trip for so long, delaying it even more because someone was slightly under the weather would've been foolish!

The cave started off with a big drop, requiring a rope to be set up, and then sprawled into a system of tunnels. Tango and Pearl were very excited to find an entrance to some ancient tombs a couple of hours into the dive. There were stairs leading even deeper underground, which turned out to be an entrance to a bigger cave system, with a huge frozen lake in the middle and an entrance to abandoned mines.

Further symptoms include skin turning pale, graying hair, eyes starting to shift color to red. Previous symptoms remain and intensify.

Tango had always been pale, he had blond hair too, and in the dark it was hard to notice the white streaks in them. The pink cheeks were easily passed as a result of being in the cold. Pearl did express some concerns about Tango's well-being when he started to fall back a bit, but he dismissed it as just him getting tired. By that point Pearl seemed to also have some "frost" in her hair.

After the hair have fully turned white, the tips start to switch color to an unnatural blue. Skin eventually loses color completely, turning gray. Fever intensifies as body desperately tries to fight the infection.

At that point it was impossible to deny that something was wrong with Tango. There are no mirrors underground though, so to him it was just his flu getting out of hand. Guilty of hiding his illness, yes, but nothing critical. The blue hair however were not normal, and the other two were freaking out a bit more than Tango would've hoped for.

They had an argument.

Etho snapped and hit Tango to beat some sense into his stupid head.

By that point Pearl was clearly looking bad too, and Etho's own hair were apparently turning white. They were all feeling terrible, physically and mentally. They decided to head home.

As previously stated, the cave is in fact alive and can sense when something that belongs to it is trying to escape. In an effort to stop it, the whole cave system comes to life. Old animal carcasses rise and start walking, small screeching creatures begin patrolling the tombs, the ice melts and the cave blooms in dangerous ways.

When the crew exited the mines into the second level of the cave system, it was apparent that the way back would be a lot harder. By that point Tango was struggling to stand and Etho had to drop his equipment to carry him. But the fever and the dizziness were making it hard to move fast, the changed layout of the cave was difficult to navigate even with their map, and the way to the surface was still very and very long. It was obvious they couldn't make it out....

Unless they were willing to make some sacrifices.

Etho isn't proud of his decision, but leaving Tango was their only option! He and Pearl still had a chance to escape if they moved quickly, but Tango was just too far gone, he couldn't-- Etho couldn't carry him to the exit, he was getting too tired, and if they all stuck together it would get all three of them killed! Was it not better for at least two of them to survive instead of-

They had another argument.

Pearl stubbornly insisted on taking Tango, so Etho had to lie to her and say that they will come back once they scout out the way. Etho couldn't force himself to look at Tango though, if he did he would be met with this knowing look and he just couldn't bear it. Tango cried when they were leaving.

After the body succumbs to the fever it stays dead for a short period of time, while the rest of the changes set in.

It took a miracle for both Etho and Pearl to reach the tombs, but the hard part came after. Etho did everything in his power to convince Pearl to leave with him, he said they will come back later when they're better prepared, he said it was too late to help Tango, he said it was Tango's own fault, he said many bad things, none of which were enough to change Pearl's mind. She turned back and Etho didn't follow her.

He ran through the tombs and the caves alone, losing his eye to a monster he saw all too late. It was painful and it was disorienting, Etho doesn't even remember how he got to the initial drop they went down, he was panicking and only moving forward because of adrenaline and instinct. The ascend was a fever dream, Etho doesn't know how he didn't fall to his death then.

Through the rush of blood in his head, Etho heard the faint sound of Tango's voice. Too cheery for his feverish condition, and much, much closer, a lot closer than the place they left him to die in. He did not hear Pearl. The sound stopped when it was right under him, and he felt a light tug on the rope he was hanging of. And nothing else happened...

Etho emerged from the cave into the cold night, stumbling over his own feet, too tired to run. Their van was parked over by the entrance and Gem was already waiting for him. Him — shaking, bloody and alone.

...

The body reanimates again, now obedient to the cave's will. It is no longer alive but it is not dead either, frozen, stalking through the tunnels in a mindless haze.

[dcxdpdabbles]

all of your au's are so delicious how does your brain come up with so many good ideas???

if possible, would you be able to continue Demon Summoning? demon Danny with a language barrier tickles my brain

Danny's eyes snap open. He springs upwards, shouting, "I'm alive! I live, and I shall conquer," throwing his arms into a double fist bump. A distant glow accompanies his cry, but he ignores it.

It must be his powers. They are always a bit hard to control first thing in the morning.

Usually, if he can wake before his alarm clock, he does this little ritual because when he was seven, Jazz read in a Kamra of the mental power." how being able to pump himself up without someone or something needing to wake him would control his day.

He rarely wakes before the alarm clock, but when he does, he tries to shout his self-affirmation.

He waits for the accompanying "My boy lives! Fear him!" that his dad will usually shout from down the hall. When all he hears is silence, Danny realizes something is horribly wrong.

The darkness around him, for example, didn't come from his closed blinds. He seemed to be in a naturally dark place, sitting on a bed that was only visible because of the burning candles nearby.

The most obvious thing was the stone walls covered in random symbols that looked like a cult had been told to vandalize them.

Danny slowly lowered his arms, feeling less like he was the man who could conquer his day with fortune cookie advice and more like a character who got sacrificed in horror movies.

He glances around, but a soul doesn't seem to be near him. Just four walls made of stone covered in black ink and various colored candles.

"Hello?" He calls out cautiously. "Is.....is this a prank? Jazz?"

A low glow of purple springs to life around his bed, spreading through the symbols. The light spreads across the floor in four different directions, and the moment it reaches the stone wall, it slowly goes upwards.

It's brighter the higher it goes until even the ceiling Danny had been unaware of shines brightly. It gives him a better view of the room when he realizes that one of the walls is made of bars.

He's in a prison cell.

Ancients, Danny is in a prison cell!

How did he get here? Where was here!?

The lights go out in seconds, plugging the room into the darkness, which is only affected by the very dim lighting of his candles. Danny grabs the blankets, pulling them up to his chin with a tremble, shifting his eyes back and forth.

He prays his sister will jump out with her usual cackle, claiming this entire creepy set-up was one rather time-consuming prank. It would be far better than the idea that he was kidnapped in his sleep.

"Jazz, this isn't funny. I'm not laughing. Also, Mom and Dad are going to kill you for getting me arrested, just so you know." He shutters, pulling his protective barrier (the blanket) closer to his chin.

The purple returned and vanished just as fast. Danny blinks, lowering the soft material slightly as he says, "Hello?"

Once again, the light returns.

"Is this voice-activated?" He asks the air, watching more purple. He pauses briefly before blurting out the chorus to one of his Humpty Dumpty songs. The symbols go in and out like a rave light as Danny starts to get into it. He drops his covers to pool around his waist, shaking his shoulders up and down and shimming in place.

Eventually, he switches to beatboxing, one hand covering his mouth and the other pumping a fist up and down as the symbols suddenly become cool and switch between various colors in the color circle.

Danny springs up from his bed, boxing and dancing in place as if no one can see him. An idea forms after he nearly chokes on his spit- he's never been the best beatboxer. He fished his phone out of his pocket, clicking through his downloaded ringtones to find the one EMD song he had.

He turned his music as loud as possible and watched the pretty colors flash around him to the beat. He laughed manically and danced around the room to his own personal rave.

He is about to start attempting to break dance when the cell door suddenly groans. Freezing in place, with one foot in the air mid-boggie, Danny can only stare wide-eyed at the thing swinging open to a man in a bat costume who watches him disapprovingly.

"Oh, I forgot about the prison cell." Danny hisses under his breath.

The man opens his mouth, and the sounds that fall out are sounds that might have been a language. He just doesn't know what any of it means but-

Wait. He recognizes those sounds. It was what the cult people were speaking in

Danny gasps, "I forgot about the cult!"

The man narrows his eyes behind the strange mask before stepping back and slamming the door shut. Danny watches him walk backward into the darkness until the man vanishes.

Slowly, Danny lowers his foot to the ground. "I don't feel safe."

Not even the company light show can make him feel better.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

"Well?" Bruce asks once he's back in the central part of the cave. His family, Raven, and John Constantine surround the Batcomputer, which displays the cameras set up in the demons' containment unit.

He would have preferred more secure holding, but the magic users assured him that natural stone walls with protective wards would be far better for a demon than any man-made prison.

"I'm not sure what he's saying." John fiddles with his pocket lighter, but his eyes never leave the screen. "But that is definitely a high demon."

"He's more powerful than my father," Raven confirms with a grim frown. The curve of her jaw is tense, which only appears when speaking of her parentage. Damian places an arm around her shoulder, offering his girlfriend some support. "It only took him a few seconds to push the wards to their limits after waking up. Then he went around doing a ceremonial dance that was about to shatter the wards, all of them, had Batman not intervene."

"I thought those were your strongest wards?" Dicks asks

"They are," John answers gravely, and the room falls into a troubled silence.

"What's he doing now?" Bruce asks, walking up behind the group but still feeling unsettled. When that- thing- turned to him, the bright glowing green of its eyes felt like the Lazurus Pit waters trying to drown him. He had to retreat quickly, or the screaming voices that appeared when he locked eyes with the demon would have driven him mad.

"He's rattling the bars of the cell," Tim reports, the only one sitting at the controls. "It looks like he is attempting to summon some of his powers as if those twin rings were meant to do anything besides go over his body. Now he's falling to the ground. He's taking the fetal position....he's crying."

They all watched as the demon rocked himself in fetal position with tears streaming down his face. He had a very human face, were it not for the flowing green eyes.

"Well, now I just feel bad," Jason grunts.

"Mate, demons pull this trick all the time. The moment you feel bad for them is the moment they know they won." John sighs. "It's an act. Higher demons are known for doing that. Look. He already broke through the first three levels."

The bottom and wall symbols on the screen shattered in a lovely shimmering boom. The demon screamed, rolling on the ground before it leaped up and broke through the bars in a mad dash.

Everyone gasps as the demon twists around to look right at the cameras. He points towards it while saying something in his strange, chilling language, and the image is lost as the camera fails.

They all twist on their heels, rushing to the containment room only to find that the demon is long gone. On the ground is a disregarded old phone that none of them has seen in years.

It looked like one of the earliest cell phones, with a buttoned keyboard and a tiny screen. Bruce lets his team search for clues as he turns the phone over and feels his heart fall to his knees.

On the screen is an image of Jack Roux.

The boy that they had rescued from being sacrificed only a few days ago. Was the demon not willing to let him go? Was it hunting him down!?

"We have to move." He says, feeling more than seeing his children fall behind him as he runs to the batmobile. "A young life is in horrible danger!"

[alchemistc]

Donato spots it first - Tommy's been fidgeting with the just-too-short sleeves of his shirt for the past ten minutes, fingers curling into the ends of the arms, thumb sliding along the hem like maybe he could make them long enough to fully cover his wrists just by thinking really hard about it. It's stretched tight across his shoulders, the neck hole feels too high, biting into his skin, and Tommy is absolutely certain it's been hemmed in at the fucking waist, because he can barely keep the damn thing tucked into his pants.

(The cost of having those fucking magnificent gazelle legs is apparently torso space.)

"You shrink your shirt in the wash again, Kinard?"

Tommy's been begging their vendor to switch to a jersey blend for years because 100% cotton undershirts are a goddamn bitch and a half to maintain.

Tommy thinks about ignoring the question entirely. They've been razzing him for weeks about the way every single smile line in his face has been putting in overtime lately.

And then she gets a closer look at it. The merch is usually the same cross-department, but every once in a while some probie will get stuck with the task of ordering a few extras to have as backups around the station and they'll go a little too hard on customization. Like, for example, the one he'd picked off the top of his clean laundry basket without looking in his rush out the door this morning.

Lucy's eyes narrow. She reaches forward, pinches the 118 emblem blazing across the breadth of his shoulder, takes in the color and sturdiness of a shirt he definitely can't play off as being old enough to have been from his own time at the One Eighteen.

Donato grimaces so mockingly Tommy nearly warns her that her face'll get stuck like that. "Christ, Kinard, how fucking domestic are you two?"

(Three days off together after a week of getting by with random texts, their schedules nearly opposite, and when Evan had stared at his overnight bag on day two and realized he didn't have any spare undershirts he'd pouted up a storm about the fact that if he had to go back to his place it didn't make a lick of sense to turn right back around to Tommy's, so Tommy had just thrown Evan's dirty undershirt in with the rest of his own laundry. And then prompted Evan to throw all his other stuff in the wash too. Halfway across the city, Evan is definitely rolling too-long sleeves over his palm with the tips of his fingers and Tommy does not have time to think about how much he likes the idea of that )

"He doesn't even know my how I take my coffee," Tommy snipes, like that avoids the question, and across the locker room Johnson slams his locker shut with a snort.

"Because you've been using his increasingly more desperate attempts to figure it out as some weird intricate mating ritual for three months now."

"It's about --."

"--the journey, not the destination," they both interrupt, eyes rolling, and Tommy doesn't bother to try to hide the grin in his face.

"He just wants to get it right so bad."

Donato's face is unimpressed. "Ugh. Can you please stop being so smitten right in front of me? I'm gonna throw up."

Tommy leans in for the kill. "Your wife ever buy you flowers, Johnson? Because I've been trying to decide how much thought went into the arrangement he brought me on Saturday, and I figure -." He dodges the palm Johnson extends towards his face with a bark of bright laughter.

---

Evan 2:15 PM

Boyfriend privileges are a SCAM

Evan 2:15 PM

Why is YOUR NAME on the back of this shirt? There's no way that's standard

Evan 2:16 PM

Chimney's being homophobic

Evan 2:19 PM

Nvm Gerrard saw it and now I'm just sad he didn't actually have a heart attack about it

[ajortga]

competition

pairing: slytherin!toxic!jenna ortega x ravenclaw!fem reader

summary: jenna loves to joke around, you both know it. as she gets braver and braver with her jokes, it comes with a price, eventually hurting you and taking away something you loved most.

warnings: slight angst, teasing remarks, heavy makeout scene, rushed ending, enemies to lovers

word count: 5.2k+

based off request!

-

Jenna criticizes literally everything about R's performance (J's an ass here 😓), while R is actually starting to get really pressured, J would always have something to say, thennn R gets tired of J's bs and begins focusing on themselves more, which would lead to R ignoring J for atleast a month or two, obviously J's pride is awfully. THEN J CONFESSES TO HER FRIEND, (how inlove she is w R and how she misses R sm) WITHOUT KNOWING THAT R IS NEARBY, OVERHEARING EVERYTHING. 😍😍 A DAY AFTER... R JUST TAKES J IN A PRIVATE ROOM AND KISSING TF OUTTA HER.

Slytherin Jenna! x Ravenclaw R!

-

Your test paper gets put on your desk, your teacher murmuring a small, “I expected better, Y/N.”

There was a 65% circled in red and it made you sick to your stomach, you had never gotten a low score before, especially in potions. You knew your concoctions and effects, you swear you had mixed everything perfectly. You groan in frustration, cursing to yourself.

Your hand scrunches, breathing in deeply as you ruffle your hair, now hearing the voice of the person you would rather befriend a frog with and use them first as a sacrifice for a blood sucking demon. 

“How can someone fail a potions exam? You managed to get first place for being the biggest dweeb, messing up the easiest class.” Jenna slightly smirks, teasingly as she approaches you and whispers sharply in your ear, your eyes glaring at her. “It’s impressive you didn’t notice a small switch of potions. All I did was switch the labels of the potions which had the same color and you didn’t even notice.”

Of course she switched up the potions to set you up for failing, “You know how important this is to me.”

“Aw.. I’m so sorry Y/N,” she mocks, “What a pity.” She pouts, “I don’t care.”

You want to smack her in the face, maybe throw that explosive potion you made to melt off her face, but you don’t. At this point you’re thinking of something to get her back, packing your spell books.

“I swear she won’t get off my shoulders, I haven’t done a single damn thing to Ortega.”

Emma laughs, nudging you, “Maybe she just likes teasing someone sweet like you.”

An annoyed exhale leaves your lips, not knowing what she meant by that, “Well she better stop it,” you grab your broom stick. 

Your friend thinks a little, “Just put a small spell on her broomstick! Nothing, you know, to make her hurt, just maybe throw her off balance.”

That interests you, you're trying to think of a sparkle you could just add onto hers. You notice she hasn’t gone to class yet and clearly you can see the large stick hidden between her name. As you approach, your fingers touch the stick, feeling the way your body immediately focuses, then you pull your finger away to go back to Emma. You feel like you shouldn’t, but you don’t feel a single ounce of guilt as a smirk forms when you reach her.

“Come on,” you urge, taking Emma’s hand as you make your way outside with your broom sticks. 

You use your right hand, grabbing it forward as Mrs. Hooch stays on the side, watching. You’ve all gotten the hang of it either way, it’s rare for some people to fall.

“Up!” Emma and you say in unison, seeing your sticks fly up as you smile at each other and hop on, ready for a flight.

You giggle, feeling yourself ascend. 

“Y/L/N,” You hear Jenna’s voice behind you, making your figure turn to face her. You see her stiffen. 

Emma gives you a look, cunning. 

“Ortega,” you greet, not so politely, but not rude nonetheless. 

“I’d challenge you to a racing match, but I do know that your ass is scared that I’ll beat and outrun you in seconds.”

You give out a snarky laugh, “I highly doubt you could even reach me by the time I ascend. I’m better at you than flying, we both know that.”

Jenna does know that, sort of. And she doesn’t want you to prove it, not during flight class while everyone is watching.

“Unless you’ve changed your mind and don’t want to challenge me, niñita,” you respond again, seeing the way Jenna was thinking.

“Then I challenge you,”

“And I accept.”

Emma nudges you, you hear her whisper in your ear, “Well, she’d probably complain, you did sort of spell her broom and she’d notice as soon as she’d get on.”

A grin forms on your lips, tearing your eyes from the tiny Jenna, “Well, I spelled it so that if Jenna were to try anything, cause that’s the bitch she is, the spell would take effect. I’m not entirely making myself win at all. I know for a fact she’d try to make me loose, she doesn’t want to lose at all, well at least to me. I know her long enough to know she’d put a spell to make me lose balance, Em.”

You see Hooch in the corner of your eye, “Plus, Hooch is watching everything, and because I spelled her broom before hand, nothing will happen until she aims some spell at me. Hooch will see that, or at least a little sparkle and chant of words. But she won’t see mine, since I spelled it before, and she’ll just think Jenna lost her balance trying to spell me.”

Emma looks at you, not knowing if you should go on.

“Em! Seriously, Jenna has been making me miserable this year, and I haven’t done anything. This is just a playful harmless thing. It’s the least I can do. I could’ve spawned a rat in her dorm that follows her everywhere!”

“Go, I sort of want to see her fall.”

The grin that disappeared forms again, winking at her as you hop back on your broom.

Then you two are off.

-

You rush through the field, feeling the wind blow through your hair. You loved feeling that cool breeze, it’s unreal, flying is your favorite thing to do.

Jennas not far behind, but far enough to know that you’ll win. 

She groans to herself, watching your pretty, she meant nasty figure speed ahead.

The brunette’s eyes narrow, she wasn’t going to let you win without a fight, she focuses on your broom, she’s close enough to do something. 

The wind is making your hair go crazy, but in a good way. Everyone is waiting their turn from below, watching you race through the course. Fast enough to feel their hair blow from your swiftness.

An exhale pasts her lips, you can see her trying to come closer, or almost urging you to slow down. But you don’t, of course you won’t. You speed faster, dodging an incoming tree and turning a corner.

Jenna feels blood rushing through her ears, murmuring something under her breath as she gets ready to swish through you and laugh.

She begins the spell, feeling her fingertips slightly tingle. But as soon as she’s about to shoot a spark, her hands let go and she sees the blue flying spark stumble towards you. Instead of it hitting your broom and making it shake, your hair flies through the wind and it shoots back at her. 

Jenna yelps, feeling the way her broom starts to shake.

Emma giggles from the sidelines, as soon as you pass the blonde’s figure, you send her a thumbs up and a knowing wink.

God finally.

The brunette loses her balance, feeling the broom shake left and right, she’s clinging onto it tightly, smacks her head on loose branches. She feels herself slow down to regain a steady pace, but as she speeds up again, you’re already gone, swerving a corner.

-

The tiny brunette grumbles from the benches, watching you smile and jump up and down. 

“Impressive play out there, Y/N. You just might be our best flier out there, keep your swift performance and you’ll be on for Quidditch.”

You already knew you’d win, even if Jenna hit your broom with her spell. You’ve won every time racing against the class.

You approach her, giving her a half-hearted smile, you’d take it as a smirk.

“Well, someone tried to cheat.”

You hear her huff, and it makes you giggle, you brush off the stick that is stuck in her hair.

-

“I regret doing that, Em, that tiny tiny 3 foot 1 foot cockroach is making me fall into her traps,” you murmur, stomping your foot.

“At least you got a taste of revenge, Y/N.” 

“I guess so,” you say, sinking into your seat, you feel yourself begin to find her playful and harmless banters to be stressful by every joke and scandal that girl plays.

-

As Quidditch season approaches, Jenna swipes her hair to the side, tying it up as you watch her with narrow eyes. It’s just a regular racing match this time. No ball. Just two talented people against each other.

Well, one more talented than the other, you think to yourself

Hooch brings you two together, in which you stare each other down, your gaze not faltering on each other.

“Goodluck, I wish you two a fair match.”

You two shake hands, though you both won’t admit it was a genuine one. You give Jenna a final glare before gazing back at the field, focusing. 

“Ready?” Hooch says, you don’t respond, just a subtle nod.

“And.. Up!”

You and Jenna shout at your brooms.

“Up!” you command, seeing your favorite item fly up, you jump on it.

Then you both swing off.

Again, not long after, does Hooch see the way your practicing and after school matches with friends are working well. You’re much farther than Jenna is, and again, it’s like no other match. But this time Jenna isn’t going to let you win again.

She growls, casting spells onto your broom and immediately, you feel your broom slow down.

“What the hell.” You mutter to yourself, you dive down. But it seems like your broom isn’t listening.

It’s swishing up and down, left to right, and you steady yourself, but you’re shaking.

You're swinging back and forth and you're losing control, you can’t make your broom stop. It’s not like just a shake of your broom and you lose balance before catching yourself, this time it’s worse. Your broom isn’t listening.

You scream to yourself, not too loud. But Mrs. Hooch can see the way Jenna is catching up, she knows Jenna did something, but it’s not looking good. Sure playful banters were okay. 

But instead of dodging a tree, you smack your head straight into the leafiness, feeling the thorns of the leaves sink and cut beneath your eye. Jenna swishes through you, not looking back. The pain immediately comes through, harsh stings roaring through your skin. You cry out, completely losing balance on your broom, crashing into the tree harshly and feeling your head bang into the wood. 

Jenna still hasn’t noticed the damage she’s caused.

You feel yourself fall.

Farther and farther.

Till your body crashes down on the grassy field, your bones from the fall aren’t helping. You hear the way they crack. And then you feel warm blood trickling down your forehead and down from the cut on your eye. You whimper.

Black spots invade your vision and you feel carsick. But you know you’re not in a car.

Your eyes flutter, making a soft groan as Emma approaches you. You can barely see her worried face but you know she’s scared.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” She says, it’s muffled. You don’t respond, her figure is blurry, you can barely see her blue eyes.

Before you can even think of a response, your eyes shut.

And as Jenna reaches the finish line, she just turns around, to notice you at least tens of feet below from her, collapsed on the ground and curled up. She can’t help but feel a gasp fall from her lips, diving down and getting off her broom stick.

She didn’t mean for it to get this chaotic, she was just hoping you’d crash into a branch and get all angry and fussy. Not get hurt. As she approaches closer, she sees blood trickling down your face as your chest heaves up and down. Emma looks at you, worriedly as everyone surrounds you two.

Jenna feels something that she doesn’t want to admit, she feels guilty for hurting you. You had barely done anything to her, but she’s messed with you countless times, you’ve gotten in trouble for it.

And you never ratted her out. The one time you decide to get her back, she’s taken things too far.

“God,” she murmurs, her voice betraying her as she pushes through the crowds of people, “Is she okay?”

The way her friend turns to her, your best friend looks like she’s about to explode, “Does she look okay? DOES SHE LOOK OKAY JENNA? What the hell were you thinking?” the blonde says the last part half aloud, where only Ortega can hear.

“I didn’t think she’d get hurt!” Jenna retorts, kneeling down and putting her hesitant hand over your chest, feeling the way it was beating quickly, chest going up and down, up down.

Immediately nurses come and drag you out, Emma following you as they take you to the infirmary. 

Jenna feels herself following too, until Hooch catches up with her.

“Ortega!” Her voice is loud, screeching as she pulls Jenna off to the side, “what on earth do you think you were doing? You’ve gotten Y/N seriously hurt because of a stupid practice match! Don’t think I didn’t catch the lame spell you’ve cast.” her eyes are wild, angry, “You know we don’t allow spells on the battlefield, I know some of Hogwarts students have broken it, but it’s never been so severe, you’ve hurt her tremendously. She’s bleeding, and I think she’ll suffer some sprains.”

Jenna nods, she understands. Sort of. She wants to understand, she knows what she did was bad. Hooch takes a deep breath, “I’m disappointed with you.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t know if Y/N will heal in three months, she’s been our best and fastest player, with quick decisions and speedy moves. She might have to sit out on Quidditch, I was looking forward to taking the trophy this season. And I would disqualify you, send you to detention after school everyday till she properly heals,” Hooch takes a deep breath, “But you have to be one of our players because you have the ability to. That doesn’t mean that you won’t get detention. I’ll even ask Dumbledore to exclude you from house games.

God, Jenna didn’t mean to make you be kicked out this season. She knew how much you wanted it. She can’t help but feel guilty.

Hooch’s voice once again speaks up, “And I expect you to apologize and pay her a visit. You two have never gotten along, but I know you both care about each other. Even if it’s slight.”

A soft nod leaves her, her eyes lingering on your small figure that is now being taken to surgery. Maybe she’ll slow down with the pranks.

-

As soon as visitors are allowed in, Jenna begins to stand up and approach your door.

“Ortega, what the hell do you think you’re doing? Don’t open that door,” it’s Emma's voice, but this time she sounds much more angry. Unlike the voice the brunette is used to hearing.

The way Jenna stands there, Emma narrows her eyes, “You’ve already hurt her, what more can you need? Unplug the oxygen tank and start laughing your stubborn ass up? I don’t think so.” 

She was taken by surprise, the fact that both you and Emma have gotten used to her tricks, she feels herself biting her lip.

“N-no.. No, not anything like that. I just wanted to apologize. I know my tricks have gone a bit farther than expected.”

Emma approaches her, pressing her finger to Jenna’s chest, “You’ve hurt her more than enough, and I can see it. She’s done nothing to you! Nothing!” your best friend growls, and Jenna backs up.

“You just don’t understand how much you’ve pressured her! Because you’re too busy standing there like the spoiled person you are on your banters.”

Jenna smacks her hands off, raising both of her hands to show she’s ‘surrendering,’ “I know, I know Em! Just let me apologize.”

“Not when she’s just about to wake up, you wouldn’t want the least expected person who hurt you to show up as soon as you wake up. Give her time,” the blonde grumbles, shushing her back to her seat as she enters your room. Jenna stands up again, noticing you're still unconscious.

Emma can feel her presence, and decides not to turn back as she sits on the chair next to you. Your face lost its color. None of the pink shade that tinted your cheeks when Jenna teased you. The pink shade that she wanted to see was gone, replaced by a pale, tired face, sound asleep. 

There were cuts all over you, she saw some bruises and there was a big bandage wrapped around your right cheek. She also saw a deep cut that was gauzed up in your arm. She winced. A few broken bones maybe.

She didn’t know it was this bad. The only noise was Emma’s sniffles, and the small beep of your heartbeat’s monitor. Jenna sighs, scooting closer and hesitantly bringing her hand close to your face. She felt like if she were to touch you, you would turn into dust. 

Her hand gently traces your fast, your nose slightly twitches, but she knows you’re too weak to move or wake up. Then she brushes through your hair, it’s weird beginning to see all the times she’s treated you wrongly as something she shouldn’t have done. Each trick got worse than the other, more risky of being harmed. And now look at you, all broken and bruised.

I didn’t mean it, Jenna thinks, looking down at your tiny figure.

I really didn’t mean it.

-

Your eyes flutter closed, and immediately you close them again, groaning from the whitest most lightest light you’ve ever encountered, covering yourself with a blanket. As soon as you move, you moan softly in pain, feeling pain roar through your body.

“Stay still,” you hear a familiar voice say, you can’t lend your finger on it. It sounds pretty, and before you can process it your brain switches that thought off. It’s your annoying rival that casted a spell that got you here in the first place. Jenna stupid Ortega.

You grunt, looking up at her, you feel bandages around you, avoiding contact with the brunette.

“Emma should be back soon, she was getting some flowers for you.”

“Good, then you can leave.”

Harsh.

You hear the way Jenna sighs, and you shake it off, turning slightly so you can face the entertaining wall instead of her.

“Look Y/N, I’m sorry.”

..

“Please, can’t you see I’m apologizing?”

“No, Jenna. You knew I didn’t like these things you did to me before. And you decide to apologize now? Do you think it’s going to make me forgive you just like that?” You say, turning back at her, a storm brews behind your eyes.

“I can’t participate in the one thing I was looking forward to this season! Just because you put this spell that you knew could harm me badly! You knew I wanted to be in Quidditch!” Jenna winces at your increasing voice.

“You could’ve been on the team too! It’s not just one of us! But you got your actions in the way before you could even think! And now you want to apologize?” It's loud, your voice begins to falter a little. Your shoulders untense, and Jenna can hear the monitor of your heart increase by four times, she shushes you, pulling you onto your back.

“Stop,” she says, her voice is too soft for your liking, you can’t think. Too much is going on in your mind, “Please.”

“Get out Jenna.”

“W-what? You don’t understand.. I’m trying to-”

“Jenna, get the hell out!” You snap, your eyes filled to the max with unshed tears.

You stay silent, before cracking out a tiny, “Please.”

And like that, Jenna walks out of the room, murmuring an “I’m sorry.”

Just this time, she really wanted you to know that she meant it.

-

It’s been a month, and by now your arm was barely healing, and there was a stupid ugly mark of a cut on your face. The pain was harsh, if your arm didn’t heal by the time Quidditch began, all your practice and effort would flush down the drain. It scared you.

As bad as the pain got, your mark would probably never fade, there would always be a purple cut marked under your eye. Even once it’s completely healed, ones that meet you will notice your cut, in a lighter shade than your actual skin tone. It made you cry every night, silently. 

It was stupid to cry over, your deep bruises weren’t even close to healing. Every time you would accidentally press into it, you’d shriek in pain. You felt insecure of yourself. It didn’t feel good, every time you’d look at yourself in the mirror there would be your healing cuts scarred over your body. 

“It looks s-so ugly..” You hiccup, looking at yourself in the mirror, Emma by your side as she shakes her head, “Nonsense, it’s okay.”

“It might never go away.” 

“And that’s okay, when you're older, you’ll find it silly, I promise. It’s a reminder of being here, and to remind you that competition is less superior when it comes to safety.”

You can’t help but feel yourself shrink, watching the scar on your face haunt you.

-

Jenna sees you in the hallways, you're in half her classes. But every single time she looks at you, you’re never looking her way. Not like before. Not when exam scores are passed out during Snape or McGonagall when you usually turn around and she waves her high score in the air, but you always wave yours back, grinning happily when you got one percent higher than her. She found you annoying, but now she feels like she’s taken you for granted. You were the one who taught her how to properly care for her plant in Herbology, although most of the time she’s retained information from the random songs and joking nerdy remarks. 

Jenna hated sitting next to you in that class, she loved teasing you and making you explode from frustration. She hated the way you looked at her and had the ability to somehow use some Hogwarts nonsense to make her think back at your smile. 

It was something you did to her, it couldn’t have been herself, she’d never be thinking of your smile or you in general. You must’ve casted a spell on her.

Yet she remembers that she’s thinking about you right now. 

Anyways, she hated the way you smirked at her and kept kicking your feet to hers, then growing some mushroom on her damn shoe.

“What the fuck Y/N? Why is there a green toadstool on my fucking foot?” She says, angrily as you laugh and fall out of your seat. She tries shaking off the small mushroom with her foot, but then it makes it grow even bigger.

And by the end of the day there is a 20 foot mushroom on her shoe, shading her as she walks home, heading straight for the knife to cut it off. 

The thought made her smile a bit. She didn’t want to admit it, she didn’t know how you did it. Or maybe when she kept tapping her pen to purposely annoy you, then when you snapped, light blue sparkles flew out of your mouth and made your voice sound wonky.

Now, you barely looked at her. For the entirety of when you were gone, you had to catch up. She felt a little relieved, you could finally talk to her by asking for notes. Didn’t want to admit the pit in her chest when you asked the person behind you.

I’m sorry, Jenna thinks, she wants to scream at you and apologize until you forgive her.

You ignored her, and she knew she deserved it. She treated you so wrongly. Sure she knew you never mind those moments she looked back to, but she knew that she grew more and more brave with her pranks, growing less and less cautious of even thinking of your safety and feelings.

She hates seeing that look in your eyes as everyone in Hooch’s class shouts, “Up!” with excitement, and you sit there, alone on the bleachers as you watch. 

As you watch your whole class fly off, Emma giving you a small, concerned look, and a tight-lipped, forceful smile forms on your lips, assuring you were fine.

She hates the way she can remember the smile leaving your lips as Emma leaves off for the race, then looking down with melancholy traced in your features.

I’m sorry.

The shorter brunette can’t stand the way you look at everyone fly off, knowing that someone that you know won’t be you will probably take your place in Quidditch. She can see it in your eyes, kicking the dirt, hoping that somehow you can kick the pain and broken limbs away.

This time, she can’t tear your eyes away from your tiny figure.

Yet she knows that you won’t even look at her, never noticing the sympathetic stares she gives you, replaced with the ones once filled with competition.

-

Emma’s voice is dull, almost like she doesn’t want to talk to Jenna after the incident.

“You’re seriously asking me to have Y/N talk to you?” she questions, looking at her with suspicion.

“Please, Em! It’s been a month, and I’ve been trying to apologize.”

The blonde crosses her arms, trying to defend you, “Well what if she doesn’t want to talk to you or apologize?”

“I don’t care!” Jenna throws her arms in the air, “I know what I did was wrong and if I’m being honest, class is getting boring without having her competition and silly remarks behind my back.”

Jenna freezes, what she says kind of sounds weird.

Emma hums, then she turns to Jenna, “So, what are you saying Jenna?”

“I care about her!” She groans, rubbing her cheeks, “I’m starting to think that I’ve cared about her since I met her but didn’t know till my actions got her hurt. I was going to apologize but now I’m shitting desperate. She won’t get out of my mind and.. I don’t know!”

Jenna groans, trying to think of what this was, “I just keep thinking about the things she doesn’t do anymore, and it’s sad not having her by my side. I feel guilty. And I need to apologize even more so she can get out of my head! Em, please, I can’t get that stupid silly cute smile out of my head. And I can’t damn focus knowing that the girl that sits next to me in McGonagall is full on avoiding me!”

She doesn’t realize the way she’s been rambling, she looks at Emma, whose face expression has changed. In some way, she’s slightly having a grin on her face, “You’re in love with her.”

“What? I don’t know! Maybe, I just-I feel bad, and I want to apologize and make it okay again. It’s just so dull and I’ll.. I don’t even fucking know. I just miss her and the way it used to be.”

“You should’ve told me that,” your soft voice sing-songs from behind her, making her tense up and turn around.

“Y/N,” Jenna stutters.

“Jenna,” you mumble, voice slightly breathy.

“I didn’t think you were-” she squeals in surprise as you drag her by the arm, panting softly as you drag her into a room, god who knows what Hogwarts classroom this is.

“Look Y/N, I’m sorry, but why are we in someones-mmph.” You seal her lips with a random spell under your lips and you place your finger to her mouth. 

You slightly smirk, god she missed it, she looks down at your lips, she rolls her eyes, “Apologize to me and I’ll let you do what you’ve wanted to do.” You undo your spell, taking off your finger from her mouth as she begins to speak.

“Wha?-”

“Go on.”

You were teasing her, and she breathed, “Okay, I’m sorry. For hurting you, I know I went too far,” she was rambling as she speaks a little faster, “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just felt more brave as much as I teased you and I know I went too far this time. And I promise I didn’t try to hurt you, I know how much Quidditch meant to you..” she gulps again, taking a breath. “What I did led to a lot of things, and I’ve noticed the way I grew upset when I knew you began to avoid me, and I’ll admit I miss you.” Jenna says the last part hesitantly.

The brunette looked up at you and you were looking at her, hesitant eyes, but almost filled with need? She now noticed the more visible cut on your eye, and you look away, seeing her gaze on the mark you were most insecure on, you cover your face.

“Stop that,” Jenna smacks your hands away and it feels like her hesitation swept away, she slowly reached up to cup your cheeks, in which your uncertainty melted. She looks at the mark, it was better than when she saw you unconscious on the floor. That’s all that matters. She wants to roll her eyes but now she feels weird when she does that.

“Does it hurt?”

You shake your head, “Just a little.”

"I'm sorry about Quidditch."

"I'm still angry about that, my arm should heal soon though, before it starts."

.. An awkward silence passes, then you look down at her pink lips.

Jenna hums, then you tug her closer, making a small whine.

“Please kiss me.”

Jenna’s eyes widen, taking her hands away from your cheeks.

“What?”

“Please,” you plead, your eyes filled with want.

Her eyes flicker from your lips as she cups your cheeks again and brings you to her mouth. As they meet, you’re all small and soft moans, kissing her with need. Hunger. It’s different. Teasing you doesn’t come with words, she’s teasing you with her mouth, feeling the way you grip onto her. 

More more more, don’t stop.

You taste exactly how Jenna thought you would, but just so much better. So addicting, it makes her mind spin with you. Coca cola and addictive vanilla. It mixes well with the taste of hers, you let her capture your tongue. It’s feverish, tongue and want combined. She indulges in the way you make a tiny moan as she nibbles your tongue. Your wanting lips push harder to hers, your body pressing against her as you slightly find something to grind against.

It’s heated and different. She tugs you closer, finding it adorable as you pull away for a tiny breath, then continue, like you don’t want to stop feeling her lips on yours. Her hands. Your fingers tugging against her hair.

Long moments after you pull away, you both are panting, your head buried deep into her chest. She rubs your hair.

“I didn’t think you were that experienced,” you whisper.

She rolls her eyes, pressing her lips to your forehead, “I didn’t think you’d pull me into a room and start begging me to kiss you and make out with you.”

“Mm..”

“Well, did my kisses grant your forgiveness for me?

“Maybe.”

“What if I give you another round?”

She smirks, seeing the way you lean back into her.

“Deal.”

She presses her lips that just left yours once again, feeling your hands tangle back into her hair.

[bluesidez]

Hi I saw your req open and I flew here ehe-

Hear me out please 😭

Miguel is a geneticist (someone who works around denetics) and sometimes he doesn't understand the programs that he 'made' and Lyla has to help him. That makes Peter B. and the spider-teens very suspicious of him.

What's even more suspicious is that once a month he leaves the Spider HQ to who-knows-where.

After some stalking investigating, they find out that every time that he leaves; he goes to a park to meet [Reader], that is the one who helped with all the tech he has at HQ.

When he returns the next day, he is confronted about it and explains that [Reader] is an old friend and he trusts them with the Multiverse secret. However Peter B. and the others obviously saw the mutual attraction between both of them so they help out Miguel confess to [Reader].

Fluff + a little suggestive with Gn Reader please ^^

Anyway drink lots of water and keep yourself healthy!! ❤❤

[Undercover Lover]

lab tester: @hikaru-sama 🩻

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!Reader

summary: Miguel is willing to stop the world for you, you just want to be the small part of his world that makes it better.

content warning: fluff, longing from reader and Miguel, the spider-teens are all menaces (as in they all have chismosavirus), Peter is Peter, a little suggestive but nothing crazy, I also made Miguel’s relationship with the teens pretty adorable (Papa Miggy 🥺)

word count: 5.8k, halfway proofread (don't ask...)

a/n: This request is not outlandish in any way, btw. It's very cute! I hope you don’t mind that I added a little extra to the programming aspect. THANK YOU TO THE MIGGY SERVER FOR YOUR HELP AS ALWAYS! I have been wallowing in the chats for who knows how long. I thought it would be cute and funny. Also, I've been doing better with my water intake! I hope you're proud. 🥺

Miguel blew out a tired breath, eyes blurry after staring at the same set of files all day.

“Lyla, could you replay the scan from this morning?”

“I don’t know, can I?”

Miguel frowned as his eyes panned to the flickering yellow glow, “Are we doing this right now?”

“Doing what?” Lyla posed with her head tilted in her hand.

“Lyla. Replay the scan from Earth 450-”

“Here’s what I found on scams on 4chan.”

“I said scans not scams- what are you talking about? And what is 4chan?”

Lyla switched to a pose that mimicked The Thinker, her heart-shaped glasses morphing into ones made of stone.

Miguel shifted his weight to one side, hands on his hips as he watched Lyla float around his desk.

“Pull up the LYrate Lifeform Approximation code.”

Lyla snickers, glasses shifting to match the marks of a clown’s face, “You don’t know how to work that, buddy.”

“I didn’t ask you to tell me that, I asked you to-”

Lyla opens the file before he can finish his spiel.

“Now, what?” Lyla whispers with glee. “Gonna hack into the motherboard? Break down the firewall?”

Miguel ignored her and read through the constant formulas, coding that he's never even seen before becoming longer and longer.

Lyla popped up right in his peripheral view, pulling out one of the smaller codes to highlight, “What’s this one mean?”

Miguel squints at the line, “Something about how you respond to tone?”

“It’s my hair color,” Lyla’s voice is high and giggly like she was anticipating his completely wrong answers. “What about this one?”

“I, I don’t know. Your jacket?”

“Voice modulator,” the code danced around him as Lyla switched her voice to something of an old Hollywood star. “You’re not very good at this, tuts.”

Miguel felt a strange chill as Lyla walked around with a long white dress instead of a jacket and her brown hair in curls falling down her back. She laughed at him some more as she pulled her now, thick-rimmed triangle-shaped sunglasses to the top of her head.

“Lyla-”

Miguel’s watch jolted, a notification blaring at him. He answered with haste, mind frantic.

“Miguel? Is something up with Lyla, because I asked her to find this Mysterio’s dimension, and she started playing some wrestler’s theme song instead,” Jess huffed, throwing the villain's body over the back of her motorcycle. “Now, he won’t stop singing it.”

Miguel felt his head start to pound, “Something’s going on with her. She’s not functioning at her normal state.”

“You’re never functioning at a normal state,” Lyla sighed dramatically, arm over her head with wind blowing around her. “Always so tense!”

“Oh my god?” Jess’s eyes went wide as she took in the Lyla at Miguel’s side. “Why does she sound like that?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m shutting her down until I can fix it. Just send the Mysterio back here.”

“You can’t turn me off, Miggy! Don’t you want me to sing for you?”

“Yeah, hurry up and log her off. She’s freaking me out.” Jess ended the call with a disgusted face.

With her gone, the room was filled with Miguel’s thoughts and Lyla humming and brushing her hair in a vintage mirror, something she would have never cared to do on a regular day.

Looking at the lines of coding in front of him, there was no way he was going to find what was happening.

He reached across his desk to a new screen, searching for a certain folder. Miguel laughed to himself as he read the title.

Don’t open unless it’s ABSOLUTELY crucial to your health…and well-being. .3.

Miguel would consider this a crisis.

He tapped the folder, watching as a sprout of several different colors surrounded him. He shifted it through the lights, some of them being pictures of you and him, some of them being animated GIFs of cats, and others being helpful guides to small technological problems. He kept searching until he found a yellow tab that read “LYLA? LIGHTS OUT!”

With one click, Lyla went from twirling and singing in heels to being dormant, gone to the Spider Society. Letting out the breath he was holding, he shifted the files back into the folder and geared up to make the announcement.

“Attention Spiders,” Miguel held his watch up to his mouth. “Lyla will be down for maintenance for a couple of hours.”

He could hear the collective groan from the society all the way in his office.

“And I will try my best to get her up and running for future missions. Until then, please send any anomalies directly to Margo and stick to local crimes as well as protecting your respective neighborhoods.”

As soon as he ended the announcement, Margo was flooding his watch with back-to-back memes. Miguel remained confused watching a little girl in a cowboy hat complain to her grandpa while he dismissed her.

“I can send someone else down there to help you.”

“no because if anyone breaks my tech, it’s coming out of YOUR 🫵🏾 paycheck”

“Everything comes out of my paycheck.”

“whatever dad”

“?”

Perturbed, but not wanting to waste any more time, Miguel locked his office and called your number.

Two rings and you were picking up the phone.

“Hey, Spider-ider!”

“Hi,” Miguel refused to admit how the nickname sounded cute coming from you. “I need your help with something.”

“No ‘How are you?’ or ‘Sorry I haven’t checked on you in forever.’ Just straight to business, huh?”

“Sorry,” Miguel collected himself. “How are things? Did you manage to get the job with that tech company?”

“Why, thank you for asking, Miguel! I’m pretty good. Things are different! I did end up getting that job, but the manager is eerily creepy, so I’m trying my best to pile up the meanest HR case or try to wiggle my way into a new department. So far, the former is slowly but surely working, not sure if my sanity can take much more. How are you?”

Miguel's eyebrows shifted a bit, “You know you can just call for my help if anything goes wrong, right?”

“Miguel, you’re protecting so many people. More than I can even fathom, actually. I’m not going to ask you to stop to check on me.”

You should. He’d drop everything.

“It wouldn’t take much from my end, I could just-”

“Miguel.”

He bit his cheek, knowing you wanted to move the conversation along.

“How are you?” you asked again, tone back to normal.

“I’m neutral. Same thing as always. Now, it’s just that Lyla was really unbearable today.”

“Unbearable how?”

Miguel went into every detail, pulling in some last-minute reports from other Spiders that managed to use her before he shut her down.

“So you’re telling me she glitched out, wore an alligator head, and integrated ‘Flat Fuck Friday’ into every conversation?”

“Well, that was just one of the many cases. Is that, is that all you heard?”

“No, I got it,” you fixed your face to try and hold back your laugh. “It sounds like she hit her funny bone.”

Miguel looked up at the ceiling and back at you, “This is serious.”

“And I’m being as serious as I can be!”

“She’s causing all of this trouble because of a funny bone.”

You laugh at Miguel’s deadpan tone, “Ok, so technically it’s called a laughing virus. It’s been hitting a lot of major search engines for some reason, but Lyla is the closest to human-like AI there is, so it’s a funny bone!”

“As stupid as that is, I need your help to come fix it.”

“Aw, you need me to come check your work?”

Miguel avoided your gaze, “There is no work. I couldn’t tell one line from the next.”

“But Miguel, you were doing so good last time. What happened?”

“I-I don’t know, I thought I had one right but I mixed up tones with shades.”

“That’s still on the same playing field, so you got something right! That’s good progress, Miguel.”

“Mm.”

“I’ll be there soon. Don’t do anything crazy, although you’ll probably just loom over the desk dramatically.”

Miguel opened his mouth to rebuttal but you already ended the call with a laugh.

With truly nothing but his thoughts, he hurried to clean his space. There were a few loose wires and an empty box from the cafeteria scattered around.

By the time you were tapping the code into his office door, his platform was back on the ground and he’d just swept up some dust that managed to build in the corner of the room.

“Don’t clean up now just because I’m here,” you watched as his shoulders jumped a bit at your voice.

“I’m not,” Miguel huffs and sets the broom against the wall.

“Sure.”

Miguel comes closer to you with his hands on his hips.

You were probably the main reason that Lyla was the way she was, sarcastic and immature.

The only difference was Miguel could mute Lyla or switch modes for some peace. For you? It was non-stop. The only way he knew how to get you to stop was a method that’s been crowding his dreams ever since he met you.

He saw your lips moving at a mile per minute, but nothing was really reaching his ears.

They looked so soft, so perfect. He wondered if he should just let the society function on its own for just a few more hours.

“Miguel!” You waved your hands in front of him. “Lyla being down has really stressed you out, huh? You’re unfocused.”

He cleared his throat, “I still have a lot of work to do.”

“Well, let’s get to it!”

Miguel moved so you could walk to his desk, heart racing.

Whatever it was you were about to try to teach him wasn’t going to stick. He just knew it.

“Hey, Miguel! You know, I was wondering if we could implement some type of spider-baby daycare? MJ is pretty busy these days,” Peter strided into Miguel’s office with a wiggly Mayday strapped to his chest.

The platform was down, but the serious figure was nowhere to be found.

“Miguel?”

Peter tried to feel him out, but there’s no way anyone could miss Miguel in plain sight.

“Hm,” Peter put two fingers out for Mayday grab. She squealed glee, taking one finger to chew on. “If I were a Miguel, where would I be?”

He pondered through the halls, eventually finding himself at the entrance of the cafeteria. Mayday looked up almost as if she was disappointed.

“I need fuel to think!”

Peter ran down the line grabbing his usual: a 2099 burger, a large fry, and a medium cola, he’s dieting!

At the end of the line, a familiar voice called his name.

“Hey, kiddo! How’s it going?” Peter made his way to the table occupied by the younger spider crew.

Miles squinted at him, “Not a kid, but it’s going good! Have you seen Miguel? He was supposed to be training me an hour ago, but he’s not answering his watch.”

“Funny that you say that,” Peter stuffed his mouth with a handful of fries. “Went to his office and he wasn’t there.”

“What is with him and disappearing lately? It’s not like him,” Gwen mumbled. “I was supposed to report to him not too long ago and he wasn’t here.”

“Time is an enigma,” Hobie was tuning his guitar. “Glad he’s finally taking advantage of it instead of chatting about doomsday.”

“True, but he missed part of the big party we planned three months ago, too,” Pavitr supplied.

The table stopped and stared at Pav with various deadpan looks.

“What? He promised he’d try my special dish! He never breaks our promises.”

“He did pile a load of work on me when Lyla broke. Usually, he would come down and help me, but he said he was busy fixing her,” Margo turned to Peter.

The table sat and pondered for just a second then the teens started spouting out nonsense.

“He’s retiring!”

“He’s going to give HQ up.”

“He’s not going to another universe again, right?”

“He’s finally taking breaks.”

“He’s dying!”

Again, the table stopped to look at Pavitr.

“False alarm?”

“Look,” Peter held his hands up. “I don’t think it’s any of that.”

“What makes you so sure?” Gwen sounded nervous.

“Uh, he would tell me!”

Miles snickered at that which caused Mayday to fall into a fit of laughter.

“What? He’s told me things before. We’re buddies!”

“And where is your so-called buddy right now?” Margo folded her arms.

“Touche,” Peter took a giant slurp of his drink, cupping a hand under it to make sure nothing dripped on Mayday’s head. “But don’t you have a way to find him?”

“The Grumpy GPS? Yeah, but I’ve never used it because he’s always here,” Margo sighs.

“How about the next time he disappears, you let us know?” Gwen suggested.

“Love it,” Hobie fist bumps Gwen.

Miles scratched his neck, “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“Says the guy that snuck into the Spider Society,” Pavitr shook his head.

“That’s different.”

“Is it?” Gwen raised her eyebrow. “Margo is on Miguel-duty. We’re going to get to the bottom of this, right guys?”

Everyone nodded their head in determination.

Peter smiled. He’s still got this mentor thing down!

Margo was down near the Go-Home-Machine running Style Savvy through an emulator.

“That is so ugly,” she sang as she watched another contestant’s outfit go down the runway.

Her judging was interrupted by a dancing cartoon spider with bushy eyebrows.

She paused the game and stretched her arms to the other side of the room to give everyone a call, “Mission ‘Where is the Old Man?’ is up and running. The Grumpy GPS has been added to you guys’ gizmos. I’ve got everything ready to hack.”

“It sounds like we’re doing a lot more than tracking,” Hobie mumbled.

“But what if he actually is dying?” Gwen was lacing up her ballet shoes tight. “He would tell us, right?”

“Oh, but when I said that, it sounded crazy,” Pavitr pulled his mask down. “The double standards are appalling.”

“He could be just avoiding us. Can’t say it hasn’t happened before,” Miles’ voice was low and testy.

“He wasn’t avoiding you, Miles, he was just…projecting,” Gwen said matter-of-factly.

“Are we back on this? Sending the entire society after me is projecting. Missing our training sessions that he set up multiple times? That’s just foul.”

Gwen and Miles went back and forth, fussing over little things.

“They’re bickering again. How cute,” Pavitr stage-whispered.

“1 mission on Miles winning?” Hobie asked.

Pavitr thought for a second, “Deal.”

“You’ll probably be the most upset if he really is sick,” Gwen comments.

“Says who? I’m not worried,” Miles zipped up his jacket halfway.

“Then why are you bouncing around like that, Miles.”

Hobie sighed while Pavitr cheered.

“If you guys are done, Miguel’s moving on foot heading down 5th. I pinned a checkpoint,” Margo sent the coordinates to their watches.

“Time to go see if big man’s a killer,” Hobie yawned. “Or not.”

Peter felt the ground shake under him, hair rising on the back of his neck. His senses were screaming at him to turn around.

The thing is, if he turned around, he'd lose track on Miguel who was currently inside of the very building he was standing on top of.

The shaking grew, pebbles and vent plates rattling around him, then everything fell back into place.

One, two, thre, four pairs of feet hit the ground.

“Where’s Margo?” Peter asked, eyes not leaving the ground under him.

“In our ears singing,” Gwen groaned. “Where’s Mayday?”

“Enjoying a lovely Mommy-Daughter date with MJ and her girlfriends. Glad to have you all join me.”

“How’d you know he was going to be here?” Hobie crossed his arms.

“Like I said, buddies!”

“You waited outside of his office, didn’t you?” Pavitr pointed his finger at Peter.

Peter turned around with an offended face, “Details-schmetails!”

“Well, do you have any idea what he’s up to now?” Gwen put a hand on her hip.

“Well, we’re on the roof of an apartment, super expensive might I add, and I’m assuming his apartment is here. So maybe he’s just getting a nap in.”

“He’s on the move,” Margo’s voice buzzed through all of the teens' ears and they ran to the edge of the building, practically pushing Peter to the side.

“He’s wearing normal clothes for once,” Gwen’s voice was shocked.

“His trousers are quite nice,” Hobie nodded as if he was looking at a magazine.

“It’s so…weird,” Miles shuddered. “I’ve never seen him in anything else but his suit.”

“He wore a nice button-down to my Zoom celebration once,” Margo hummed.

“Guys?” Pavitr’s voice went high. “Where’s Peter?”

The three of them turned around to see a missing pink-robed Spider.

“Oh, come on!” Miles jumped from the roof to the next one, following the pink fluff. Miguel was walking fast on the sidewalk and Peter was keeping his trail from up high.

“Really, Peter?” Gwen swung alongside the two with the rest right on their tails. “Some mentor you are.”

“I’m a great teacher! You’re all catching on quite well,” Peter swung lower as Miguel crossed the street.

Colors flew across the sky, contrasting with the constant grays and small specs of green of Nueva York. Scaling from building to building was a lot easier with flying cars added to the mix, but it was a little odd to see wobbling vehicles every now and then.

“I think you guys should slow it down. His pace changed,” Margo noted. “He’s stopping at…a park? Didn’t know they still had those here.”

With a sturdy pull, Miles used his web to stop Peeter from running any further and the now quintet landed on the ground a safe distance from the park.

“A little dreary for a park, innit?” One eye on Hobie’s mask went higher than the other.

From where they were hiding, steel statues stood tall, tufts of greenery growing up the structure. There was more pavement than grass and the walkways contained several dips and turns.

“I think there’s some flare to it,” Miles countered. “Could use a lot more color.”

They quieted down as they watched Miguel find an empty bench. He sat down and started to rub his hands against his pants. He sat for a minute or so before he checked his watch and his leg started to bounce.

“Is he waiting on someone?” Gwen whispered.

“Oh, I wonder who it could be?” Pav whispered back.

“Why are you guys whispering?” Margo paused her side mission of trying to find any security cameras in the area.

“Doesn’t he have super-hearing?” Miles asked.

“Over this much noise?” Hobie brought the talking level back to normal. “If he doesn’t suspect us of following him, there’s no need for him to focus on us.”

After about five minutes of watching and making a game out of how many times can Miguel check his clothes, with Peter mumbling about how the pants aren’t going to get any looser with those thighs, everyone holds their breath as they watch someone take a seat next to him.

Miguel’s entire demeanor changed.

His face lit up, his back straightened, and the tension from his body fell.

“No way,” Pavitr whispered excitedly. “Guys!”

“What’s going on? I still can’t get into the security cams,” Margo’s voice was impatient.

“Miguel…has a partner?” Gwen tilted her head watching the two react. The mystery person got up to hug Miguel as he sat on the bench. He hesitated a bit, fingers twitching awkwardly before he hugged them back. “Or not.”

“If one of you could get closer, I could pitch the sound to everyone. And, I could see!”

Everyone turned to Miles.

“Why is everybody looking at me?”

“You can turn invisible, genius,” Gwen said.

He just sighed and faded from head to toe.

“How’s it going Spidey?” you lean back from your hug to look down at him. Your hands rub his shoulders. “You look nice today.”

Miguel averted his eyes, “You’re not supposed to call me that-”

“Outside of HQ or our phone calls. I know, I know. Seriously though, why are you so dressed up today? Got a hot date waiting?”

Miguel tilted his head, “Do I really look nice?”

The shirt he was wearing was barely hiding anything, any tighter and it would have been considered a muscle tee. It was tucked into some slacks with a belt that made his tiny waist even smaller. The pants hugged his thighs just enough.

“Yeah!” More than he could imagine.

“Thanks,” he smiled a bit. “There’s no hot date. Just wearing something casual.”

Your shoulders lifted at the words.

“Cool, cool.”

“You look nice, as well.”

“Really?” you looked down at your last-minute outfit. Some gray joggers you found at a thrift store and a hoodie you’re almost certain has a random bleach stain somewhere on the back. “You’re digging the midnight chic?”

“Midnight chic?”

“Yeah, an outfit you wear when going out for a snack in the middle of the night.”

Miguel pursed his lips, “It looks soft. Comfortable.”

You involuntarily gripped your bag tighter, watching Miguel’s eyes roam you from the neck down.

Lately, he’s been saying things that make your stomach flutter, from being willing to beat up your boss to fussing at you for running errands so late to remembering small details from months ago.

Only recently has his eyes began to wander. He doesn’t catch on as fast when you explain things to him. You’ve caught him staring at you while you’re looking at other things. His smile lingered a little longer. His hands were a lot more careful. Sometimes, he’d tense up when you touched him.

It was all so confusing and the feelings you’ve pushed down for years have crawled their way back up, waiting at the back of your tongue to be announced.

Still, you were just here to help him for as long as he needed you. Nothing more, nothing less.

You cleared your throat, “Okay so, you said you needed help with…Excel?”

“Mm hm,” Miguel nodded and locked his eyes back on your face.

You pulled your laptop, turning up the brightness so that the scenery wouldn’t shoot straight through the transparent device.

“So, this program is like, extremely old.”

“I know, but it's a middle ground for all of the Spiders. Anything newer would be too much for about a fourth of them and anything older would take ages for anyone to complete.”

“Got it,” you inch close enough to Miguel for his cologne to dance around you. He leaned closer to squint at your laptop and you had to will your hands to not shake like jelly. “So, the program is actually pretty simple. You just enter formulas, charts, numbers, or information in these boxes. There’s a lot more manual work than we’re used to, but it won’t take much to get used to.”

You walked Miguel through everything you’ve taught yourself over the past few days. Having him put in formulas and waiting for the result.

“Like this?”

“Almost! You’re missing a letter here.”

“Can you go over it again?”

Miguel's hands would hover over the keyboard, eyes focused and nose scrunched. Sometimes you would fight the screaming in your head and place your hands over his, helping him punch certain numbers in.

“Miguel, I think you’re messing with me. We’ve repeated this same thing on four other sheets now. I know you’re smarter than that.”

He poked his tongue in his cheek, “I’m just quadruple checking. Gotta teach this to some older people.”

“Fine,” you snort. “One more time and then I have to get ready to go.”

“Already?” Miguel turned to you. “I thought you didn’t have to be somewhere until this evening.”

“I don’t, but I can’t go looking like this. You spent 30 minutes arguing with me about the interface. Don’t you have to go back to HQ soon?”

“No.”

There was a noise behind you. You turn around to see nothing but a curved wall embedded with vines.

You put your heart to your chest, “God, I thought that was a reporter or something. Just the wind I suppose.”

Miguel’s eyes stayed planted on the empty space, “On second thought, let me walk you there. Don’t want any surprises.”

“So you don’t need me to go over this for the fifth time?”

“Nope,” Miguel grinned down at you. “I got it the first time, actually.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh as you hit his arm. He doesn’t even flinch. “You’re such a jerk.”

He looked around and got behind you to squat down, tapping on his gizmo. You could only hide so much of him. “Would a jerk swing you to your apartment?”

You look up at him equipped with his mask.

“He probably would, actually.”

“Aw,” Miguel said, red marks for eyes holding so much sadness. “Oh well.”

You yell as he yanks you up by the waist and shoots his web up to the nearest flying car.

“Miles! You almost screwed us over!” Margo did her best to wipe their trace.

“I panicked!” Miles tried to explain himself as he ran on the windows of a skyscraper.

“For what?” Gwen flipped as she connected from one structure to the next. “It was so clear that he meant that he wanted to be with whoever that was, not because he wants to quit HQ.”

“Seeing him like that feels like we met a new man,” Hobie said. His boots were light in the air. “Don’t like it.”

“You say that like he doesn’t let you get away with everything,” Pavitr said.

“Like what?”

“Like giving away food to the street cleaners.”

“Or like pasting your band stickers everywhere.”

“Or painting an ACAB mural.”

“To be fair, Miguel aligns with every single one of those things,” Hobie shrugged.

“This is great and all, but talk about a major fail,” Peter sighed. “He clearly needs a wingman.”

“I thought he did pretty good!” Miles said.

The rest of the group made a range of judging noises.

“His game definitely needs some work and he’s already on his way back to HQ, so hurry it up, guys. We need to hustle and huddle.”

Miguel was at his dock again, preparing to go check out the anomalies of the week. 

He was back doing the thing that distracted him most: thinking about you. 

Yesterday only confirmed what he’s been thinking about ever since you opened your mouth. 

He’s absolutely infatuated with you. 

At first, he thought it was a fluke, a blip in his timeline. No matter how many times your jokes made him chuckle or your smile brought him warmth, he wasn’t going to lean into it. 

But then, you called him one night and your voice brought him back from the darkness that was consuming him. Stories of your life, an exchange of nostalgia, a whisper of hope for the future, and the confirmation that he was more than the error in time that he thought he was. 

You’re something that he more than adored. 

And yet, he still hasn’t figured out how to tell you. 

He wanted more than the monthly meetups to refresh his memory on the stupid tech that kept this building running. 

Truthfully, he could call Gabriel, or worst case scenario, Xina for help, but every time he got a chance it was your name that crossed his mind. 

Miguel sighed as he started to shut some tabs down. 

“Spiders incoming,” Lyla popped up to inform him. 

Miguel saw the gaggle of teens plus Peter walking to his office. 

“Here we go,” he grumbled. 

“Turn that frown upside-down! Company is always good,” Lyla said. 

Before Peter can open his mouth Miguel is beating him to it. 

“What do you want?”

“Ouch!” Peter laughed. “Not up for a bit of family bonding time?”

“Not with you.”

“Oh c’mon, Miguel,” Peter inches forward as Miguel’s platform comes down. “Hear us out.”

“Make it quick.”

The teens all stared at Peter who looked back and forth between them. 

“Do any of you not know what the word ‘quick’ means?” Miguel asked with irritation lining his voice. 

“Well,” Miles started. 

“You see, we were thinking that you might need some help,” Gwen finishes. 

Miguel crossed his arms, “Help with what.”

“Your sad flirting,” Hobie says. 

“What?”

“You know,” Peter puts his arm around Miguel’s shoulders. “You need a wingman!”

Miguel’s frown grew deeper, “What are you talking about? Did you guys spy on me?”

Six voices overloaded Miguel’s eardrums, all explaining their part of some convoluted scheme. 

“Alright, alight! Quiet!” Miguel holds his hands out. “Margo!”

Miguel pinned his eyes to her with his eyebrows pinched. 

She danced from foot to foot, face scrunched, “We just! We were worried about you so we followed you and saw you making googly eyes at someone!” The words spilled out of her like water. 

Everyone but Hobie looked at Margo incredulously. 

“What?” she whined. “He was giving me his disappointed look. The disappointment was torturing me!”

Miguel turned and paced, pinching his nose as he whispered to himself. 

“Miguel, they could help you!” Lyla said cheerfully. “You’ve only been crushing on them for what…multiple years?”

“Lyla!”

“Multiple years? No wonder you’re always so tense. That’s pretty sad, bro,” Pavitr hummed. 

Miguel pointed his finger, “Don’t bro me.”

“Still seeking authority in his moment of weakness. Something’s got to give,” Hobie went to lean on a wall. 

“We really thought something terrible was going on,” Miles’ shoulders drop. “You also go M.I.A. whenever you have a problem.”

“We just wanted to help,” Gwen supplied. 

“Hey man, don’t blame the kids for this one, alright?” Peter’s voice lowered so only the two of them could hear it, albeit a bit useless in a room full of power-holding teens. “Say the word and we’ll stay out of it, but the kids deserve to know why you were canceling on them at least.”

Miguel looked at Peter with an exasperated face before looking at the teens, three of which looked like they were about to cry. 

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and let out a deep breath, “I’m not sick.”

“But lovesick?” Margo asked. 

He gave her a tired look, “Yes.”

“Well why not say that instead of just disappearing?”

“They’re the one who helped make the tech for this society. Without them, there would be no updated gizmos, no updated Lyla, no new ideas. Every time I left it was to…get insight on something here. To fix broken tech.”

“And to stare in their face,” Pavitr snickered. 

Miguel panned his eyes to the floor, too embarrassed to admit it. 

“What’s the hold up in telling them how you feel?” Peter asked. “There’s no time like the present.”

“Don’t tell me yesterday was an example of what happens when you try to confess?” Gwen’s face twisted up, teeth clenched in second-hand embarrassment. 

Miguel’s silence was enough of an answer. 

“Tío,” Miles closed his eyes then looked back up dramatically with his hands out. “¡Vamo’! Sácale, llévale al cine.”

Lyla put a spotlight on Miles and held a microphone out to him while Miguel groaned. 

“Cómprale, un ramo de flores!”

“Ya no puédo mas,” Miguel swiped through the holographic mic. “Eso no va a funcionar.”

Miles slumped, “But how do you know? You haven’t even tried! Bañate, junto con el-”

“Don’t finish that song, Miles,” Miguel’s fingers went to his temples. 

“You should really listen to the lyrics-”

“Why don’t we help you win them over?” Margo stood in between the two, ending the squabble. “It’s clear that they seem to like you too.”

Miguel's eyes went softer staring at Margo’s pleading face, “How do you know?”

“We quite literally saw it,” Hobie spoke as if Miguel lost his mind. “No one ever talks to you that sweet.”

The teens all nodded their head in unison and Peter did a horrible job at hiding his laugh. 

Hobie wasn’t done, “Don’t let someone like that slip through your fingers.”

Miguel was at the park again, dressed up even more than last time. An open navy button-down was tucked into his pants, his slacks were dark gray, and he had on one of the more expensive pairs of dress shoes he owned. A chain he borrowed from Gabriel adorned his neck and he let his hair natural and loose for once. 

Under Miles’ advice, he did buy some flowers. Hobie told him to remain calm, Gwen told him to just talk, Pavitr gave him a bullet point list of what and what not to do, and Margo told him that he was the best no matter how the confession turned out.

Peter went on and on about the importance of love and relationships but Miguel was never inclined to listen to him. He did keep the comment about letting you know how much he means to you to heart, though.

He was so in his own thoughts when you showed up in front of him that he didn’t even notice you at first.

He jumped when you tapped his shoulder.

“Woah, it’s just me. And you’re super dressed up today. What’s the occasion? I’m not taking ‘casual’ for an answer this time.”

Miguel swallowed dryly, grip on the bouquet of cool-toned flowers almost enough to wilt the stems.

“Flowers?” your eyes went to his hand.

“Yeah, um.”

Just breathe, Miguel!

Margo’s perky reminders sounded off in Miguel’s head.

“I brought them for you,” Miguel placed them in your hands.

“Oh!” your face lit up. “These are beautiful. Thank you so much. I didn’t get you anything, though. I didn’t know we were bringing gifts today.”

“No need. I wanted to get them because,” Miguel felt his throat closing in. “I really, really like you.”

The smile on your face dropped as you stared at him.

“It’s been particularly hard over the past years to try to focus without you running through my thoughts and I don’t want the fear of myself or my circumstance to stop me from having a chance to be with you.”

Maybe his ears could pick up how fast your heart was going, too.

“So if you’re willing, will you please go out with me?”

You dropped the flowers and brought him in for a tight hug. 

“Are you kidding me? Of course, I’ll go out with you.”

Miguel was quick to wrap his arms around you today, burying his face in your neck, “No hesitation?”

“I’ve been wanting and honestly, waiting for one of us to make a move for years. You’re always so busy, so I was too nervous to even bother,” you look back at Miguel’s face, smiling from ear to ear.

“Sorry to keep you waiting then.”

You looked from his lips to his eyes, “Can we skip a few steps?”

“Such as?”

You pushed forward, melting into him as you slotted his lips against yours, head full of warmth and clouds. Miguel matched your pace, hand on your back as he pressed against you. When he opened your lips you pulled back, breath dancing against his. 

“Swing me to my apartment?”

Miguel smirked, “Always.”

As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵

[saetoru]

this blog is now archived !! find my MASTERLIST here !!

hi guys, and here’s a long overdue post that i wanted to take the time to make after collecting as many screenshots as i can for a lot of rumors that i think need to be addressed. before i do that, i wanted to apologize to all of my mutuals who ended up wrongfully harassed in their inboxes for simply knowing me—the irony of this issue being about bullying all the while people on this app have been simultaneously being genuinely awful to other writers who have zero involvement has been ridiculous.

i would’ve made this post sooner, but december was very busy—as you all know, i’ve been working with two separate companies for my capstone projects, and i had final presentations with boards to worry about. and then a cruise which was fun, but i was offline. now that i’ve finally had time to enjoy my break and collect my thoughts, i’d like to voice my own side to the discourse i’m sure you’ve all seen posted by @/garoujo, who is now @/gojoath.

first and foremost, i’ve been on tumblr for almost 4 years now, and while i may not have the brightest moments on here (no one will be spot-free in that amount of time), i’d like to think that if i actually went out of my way to vicious or bully people, this would’ve come to people’s attention a lot sooner. i’ve had a relatively large following across all 6 of my blogs in my time here, and while i don’t like to get into the metrics of my blogs, the reason i point this out is because i have willingly started my blog over 6 times. 3 of these were sfw blogs under my nickname tee, another 2 of which were my previous nsfw blogs under a different alias, and saetoru which is the current one, where i finally decided to combine my sfw and nsfw writing into one space. i just wanted to bring that up because i had quite a habit of leaving and restarting blogs before this one, and had i been obsessed with outperforming other writers in terms of follower counts, i would not have left the previous ones as often as i did. 

that being said, i’ll also go through a timeline of events and how they’ve snowballed into an issue that is not as one-sided as most of you might think. i’ve been mutuals with emmie since my first blog, and i’d been mutuals with her through most of her blogs as well. we’ve never really had issues until her last blog @/garoujo, which she’d started after deactivating @/atsymu due to discourse regarding racism accusations. the reason why we had a falling out was because i felt that there were a series of odd coincidences that felt slightly purposeful, but i was still questioning whether or not i was looking too deeply into it to actually point any of it out.

admittedly, when i saw her first set of banners, i felt our layouts were a slight bit similar, but i really didn’t mind too much because i had been planning to change my banners anyway because i was bored of them. so i took that as an opportunity to do so. it just so happened that within a day or two of every time i changed my banners, hers would be changed too—i never said i owned the color gray, and i even fully acknowledge that the last two sets of banners, at first glance, wouldn’t be a red flag. because, like i said, i was more uncomfortable with the pattern of coincidences than the actual layouts. then i switched to my instagram theme, and not long after, i noticed her add instagram story visuals to her navi. again, no one ever said instagram was my original idea, and that no one else could use it, but it was an unsettling feeling having the same moot continuously make changes around the same time as you, and changes that are different enough that you can’t exactly point out an issue, but slightly similar enough that you can’t exactly ignore the slight oddness.

coincidentally, the same day, another blog (who i will not name bc they’re not very active anymore and are also not very relevant to this story) made the same theme as me and i was a bit peeved because this same blog is someone who has copied a few other things from me and a handful of other moots, so i made a subpost on my moots-only personal blog at the time. keep in mind, i made this post fully aware that emmie was on this blog because i didn’t intend for that post to seem like it was about her. but she reached out to me, and i explained to her the situation, and i even provided the relevant screenshots to show my points. i still considered her a decently good friend at the time, and even with the slightly off feelings, i was still adamant about brushing them off and considering them coincidences that perhaps i was being a bit too critical of.

it wasn’t until i woke up a few hours later after changing my theme and going to bed that i noticed she’d then fully switched to the insta theme. again, instagram is an app used by millions and, at one point, was a very popular theme used amongst most people on this app. i’m not entitled enough to believe i was the first person to do it, but like i said. there are just off vibes most of us will not help but feel when a series of coincidences continue to happen back to back to back by the same person.

there were, amongst these things, a number of other small touches that made me feel off. most of them i don’t remember by now or have screenshots of, so i won’t bother to go into all of them, but for reference, one example i’d also like to point out that i’d had the phrase “you’ve reached the hanmas” in my inbox when she was still on @/atsymu, and sometime after, her sfw blog @/loveatsu had the phrase “you’ve reached the miyas.” small things like this are not things i make an issue over and am more than capable of brushing aside, but like i have said and will continue to push firmly is that i felt there were multiple instances of emmie, in particular, making small tweaks to her blog shortly after me that made me feel were not all coincidentally similar. the issue was never themes or thinking i am the first or only person to do something a certain way, the issue has always been me countless times feeling that one particular individual is exhibiting a behavior that is persistent and uncomfortable no matter how minuscule the instances may be. maybe they were really just unfortunate coincidences that happened with poor timing, or maybe they weren’t. but i stand by the fact that anyone in my shoes would be valid to question the timing of each of these events over and over again.

i would also like to bring up kinktober (though this happened a while after the rest of what i will get into) because this was the first public discourse that emmie and i got into due to an anon’s claims of similarities between our posts. i had received an anon who told me “i think someone copied your kinktober masterlist” which i answered to ask if they could let me know who. they had come back to say it was garoujo, and i did not reply to the ask, instead, i made a post to vaguely tell the anon that i appreciate them letting me know, but i will just leave it be and continue on with my kinktober regardless of emmie’s mlist. i do think there were some vague similarities, but honestly not enough to really question it, so i figured a confrontation or issue was not necessary. a while later, several moots had messaged me to let me know they had received anonymous asks saying to “block @/garoujo she copied @/sakusins and she’ll copy you too” (or something along those lines, i don’t remember exactly.) i myself was very confused (and upset) by the situation because i did not, and still would not, want to be publicly name-dropped in other people’s inboxes over issues that do not involve them. unfortunately, it led to some not-very-kind asks to both of us, and while i am sorry she had to deal with that, it is not an apology from a sense of culpability. that situation was, and still is, entirely out of my control. i would not have seen the masterlist unless the anon had mentioned it, and i did not take part in having people send asks about her to other writers. especially not in a manner that was pretty much social suicide for me as well. 

(this is a poorly made collage i know lol but i hit the picture limit bear with me here.)

i would also like to point out that i am not the only individual who has had issues with emmie and feels she had copied them. although i cannot disclose urls (they have been blocked out for privacy reasons) here are a few conversations i have had with my own mutuals, and i would wager there are more people whom i haven’t talked to who also feel this way. they might be small enough instances that sparking issues over them was not worth it to all of these people, therefore she has never heard from people herself about this issue, but the point does still stand that this claim about emmie is not one i alone make, and is one that i have heard countless times before. her never being approached by these individuals for the sake of peace doesn’t erase that they have been, and are, upset by these events, and it’s a habit that she seems to continually partake in. i would also like to link this post where she has been called out by another writer while she was still atsymu, which was posted while we were still friends. i’ve actually had a discussion with emmie about that post, and at the time, i had quickly skimmed the post and felt it was perhaps a reach, but after my own experiences, i went back to reread the post and considered perhaps there was validity to it, and that this might not be a one time occurrence. plagiarism in manners such as this will always have conflicting opinions, and it is hard to sometimes tell if something is a coincidence, a popular and overused idea, or something that has actually been copied. my point is that a number of people have all felt that perhaps there is a good chance this was not an accident, and please consider that so many instances of people feeling this way might suggest that there is a certain degree of validity to the claim.

at the beginning of all of this, when the masterlist banners had first started bothering me, i was upset, and i chose to vent to an ex-moot of mine who most of you would recognize as munsonsins. abby has deactivated a long while ago, but she’s relevant to this because i had chosen to vent to her at the time, and this is more or less what later caused this situation to escalate. at the time of venting to her, i knew she wasn’t mutuals with emmie because, as you can see, she’d told me as such. 

one thing i would like to point out is that there were a handful of people i had vented to about my frustrations with emmie, but one thing i had always been mindful of was ensuring these were a) individuals who i considered close friends and not just random individuals, and b) were not friends or moots with emmie in the event that i accidentally made people who she cared about think lesser of her. had abby been mutuals with emmie, i would not have shared my feelings, and once again, i was not loose-lipped enough to just tell anyone because they’d listen. i told abby in particular because i had felt we were sufficiently close individuals who talked one-on-one and were able to vent to each other. a bit after i vented to her, though, she befriended emmie, which i had no such issues with because abby was/is her own person and is an adult who can interact freely and befriend whoever she wanted/wants to. 

not long after that, on the night before eid (this detail is relevant in the future) an ex moot of mine @/kazuwhora reached out to me. if you guys remember, there was a discourse last year that was all over dash about how writers on this app should be open to criticism. a lot of people (including me and kc) were upset by that sentiment—which is still valid. please don’t give constructive criticism to writers without their explicit permission !! but regardless, kc sent me a screenshot of a mutual of mine who had posted their opinion on this discourse, and their point was clearly that while constructive criticism is important in some aspects, writers do not have to be subject to receiving it should they not want to. unfortunately, i felt as if kc misunderstood what this individual was trying to say, and i was trying to explain it to her, but we got into a small argument over how we interpreted the post. i felt some of the things she was saying about this individual were inappropriate, and i had made it clear that i was very fond of this person, and it made me uncomfortable to be having this discussion. regardless of whether she saw my interpretation of the post or not, i wanted to drop the discussion, especially because it was the night before eid. eid is the one holiday i celebrate, and there are traditions i quite enjoy the night before, and i didn’t want them to be spoiled with a poor mood over a silly argument. unfortunately, she wasn’t very willing to drop the topic, and it ended up making me upset. so i posted this screenshot to my moots only personal from the conversation that consisted of my messages only and said, “tonight i had to explain what a debate is.” it was petty, perhaps, but very harmless, seeing as there was no context given and no names/pfps to indicate who the person was.

truthfully, i had vented separately to cat, eris, and abby about this argument because i was friends with the three of them at the time, but needless to say, venting to your friends about arguments is a universal action, and i believe it is something all of us have partaken in. 

eventually, i decided to softblock emmie because i felt it would be more comfortable for me on my blog to do so. after a bit, i was informed of a subpost that seemed like it couldn’t be about anyone other than me—to make things clear, emmie subposting me was not my concern. i did not hold it against her because she is more than entitled to have her own feelings and vents on her own blog, but the thing that did concern me was that it seemed slightly evident that she was aware of my feelings when i had never explicitly had a conversation with her. it made me question who would tell her, and as you may have guessed, the only person with whom i had shared my concerns who could also be in contact with emmie was abby. 

at the time, eris had also voiced concerns that they had trusted abby with the ending of the plot for the diluc series they were planning, and coincidentally, one of abby’s friends had posted a fic idea eerily similar to their concept, to which abby had been commenting and reblogging more brainstormed ideas under. all of these ideas were very close to the plans eris had for their series plot, and understandably, they felt that it was not a mere coincidence that their entire plot was being brainstormed on dash by a person who was fully aware of their outline. i’d voiced my concerns with believing that abby may have also been sharing things i trusted her with, and as a result we both had made a few vague subposts that we liked from each other—a petty behavior, i will admit, but not something that i think is very out of the norm for a lot of people on this app. sometimes, we all just want to vent out our frustrations, and because we all more or less use tumblr as an outlet, these can sometimes be vaguely taken to dash. it’s not something that is ideally recommended (i’ve learned the hard way) but it’s also ?? not exactly something that only i’m guilty of, or is even a rare behavior. i think to shoot down one person for this behavior is quite frankly hypocritical. again, subposting isn’t a habit i would like to push as mature but it’s something i’d like to point out is very normal in this community, and is not something only i take part in. beyond that, i take to ensuring that whenever i do, i’m not explicitly exposing who i’m talking about in order to keep them out of unnecessary issues. 

after this conversation with eris, it kind of solidified in my mind that i did not want to trust abby with any more personal vents, or information, and i had ultimately decided to soft block her too. i had also decided to take the opportunity to softblock kc as well because i figured i might as well just remove individuals who i felt made me uncomfortable. this is, again, my right to do so to curate my own space. not long after, cat, eris, and i had been softblocked/hardblocked by a number of moots, and we were a bit confused, until cat ended up having a conversation with kc. many accusations were made about all three of us, more specifically, about me to kc by abby because the two of them had been discussing that they’d both been softblocked by me recently.

the list of accusations we were told of is as follows:

me, cat, and eris have a “burn book” where we “blacklist people.” it’s important to note that every time this discourse resurfaces (this is now the fourth time), the “burn book” has fundamentally changed in its composition—it has changed from a discord server “burn book”, to a google doc “burn book”, to the current rumor that it was an entire blog that was used as a “burn book.” it is consistently changed to fit whatever narrative is trying to be pushed, and regardless, the rumor itself is entirely untrue and has been addressed multiple times. cat has had a tumblr theme, a collab theme, and a server theme all dedicated to the film mean girls. she simply had a channel that was to share the urls of minors to block for interacting with nsfw works, or people who were anti-dark content—this is something that i have seen in all servers i’ve been in during my time on tumblr, and is not a new concept for many of you either. it’s simply a precaution a lot of servers take to warn writers about potential minors to block, and potential anti-dark content harassers. the name of this channel happened to be “the burn book” because it was a mean girls themed server, so the name just fit. nowhere in this channel were other writers in the community “blacklisted” or spoken negatively of, and here are the screenshots of the channel. this was simply something abby had twisted in order to paint us negatively. here is the link to cat’s post addressing it for proof and explanation (i run out of pictures or i would include them myself.)

abby also claimed that i was using this channel to talk poorly about kc and a handful of other moots. this is also false bc this server had several strangers (as it was cat’s server and i didn’t know all her moots), but it also had several of kc’s mutuals/friends in this server as well. i’m not so dense as to talk poorly about other writers publicly in a server, let alone a server i know has people who are friends with kc

now, this next part, emmie has conveniently painted out to be about me, as i apparently harassed and blacklisted people for liking itto from genshin impact, but i have been playing genshin for over a year on this app, and quite a large number of you are my own followers who see my rambles and my writing and i don’t have to explain that i have never written for itto, nor explicitly expressed an interest in him apart from perhaps one or two posts from back when i did his story quest. i never had, and still to this day, have no interest in the character itto. i’ve skipped his banner, i plan to skip his upcoming banners should they come, and i have never written for him, nor do i plan to write for him. this issue with itto is between eris and another individual, and i do not have the details to this, as i was new friends with eris at the time, and i’m no longer friends with eris as of current time. quite frankly, even if i knew the details, i wouldn’t go out of my way to share them because it has nothing to do with me. plain and simple.

as you can see, there were a number of rumors spread here to kc by abby, and as you can see, all of which led me to seem quite vicious in character. i’ve provided, to the best of my ability, screenshots and receipts of why each of these is quite drastically out of context and far from true to what abby has claimed. 

i did in fact, after these events confront abby because i was genuinely appalled by the way she knowingly and purposely twisted things conveniently to villainize me. she expressed that she was upset and paranoid by the subposts that she figured were about her once i’d soft blocked her, so i apologized for the posts. she had conversations with both me and cat about the rumors she’d started, and she also apologized for them to both me and cat.

the rumors that emmie has claimed about me in her post, which she conveniently provided no evidence of, are all rumors that are more or less a result of my differences with abby and kc. unfortunately, despite cat trying her best to explain to kc the falseness of most of these rumors, she didn’t really believe them—which is her business. to each their own. i’m sure if i had been in kc’s shoes and in one night, someone i had considered a friend had been painted to do a series of nasty things behind my back, i also would not know what’s true and untrue, and she is entitled to piecing together what she believes is her truth. what’s not fair, however, is for emmie to have no involvement/understanding of these events apart from a twisted narrative she heard from one person and dog pile them into her claims of my behavior to further paint me as a villain. emmie is more than entitled to have her beliefs on my character based on her own experiences, which she has provided her own evidence of, but simply slapping an “and i heard she also….” does not necessarily make claims true, and is very manipulatively thrown into the post to add a list of things that make my character questionable to further validate her point. 

not only this, but she has made a point to openly admit that she and her friends have collectively mocked me for my relationship with my ex-boyfriend, who they have apparently labeled as my “fake” boyfriend that i used to get attention on this app. quite plainly, i get enough attention on my blog that i don’t need a fake boyfriend to amp that up. but furthermore, i am a south asian, muslim individual. my parents are immigrants with very strict religious and cultural beliefs that i feel are very restricting at times, and though i love my family, i struggle with my identity quite a bit as i live in a very western culture that clashes quite a bit with my cultural norms. i do not get to freely explore my sexuality or even romantic life in general, unlike some of you. my parents have been kept in the dark about my relationship because them knowing about it is something that could quite literally create a rift between us, and i find it very insulting and almost suspicious that a white girl is making a mockery of my cultural struggles and my personal life. many of you are either desi or muslim or simply children of strict immigrant parents with quite stubborn traditional views. i’m sure plenty of you understand where i’m coming from when i say that i have to keep my relationship hidden from the majority of the people around me. tumblr is the one place i can anonymously share bits and pieces of my life without worrying about if it will literally cost me my relationship with my parents, so sometimes i may have overshared silly or pointless things, but that is because it’s my own way of being able to express myself and my relationship the way i have always wanted to. apart from that, dragging and making a joke out of someone’s personal life is quite unnecessary in this case. the issue is about tumblr discourse, and i find it very hypocritical that i am being labeled a bully when people, more specifically a white and privileged individual, is plain and simple mocking and poking fun at my personal life and situation that i have no control of. that is my piece on that. whether some of you believe i had a partner or not is not my business, nor do i have to go out of my way to show you evidence of my personal life. what i will say, however, is that there are a handful of close friends i have on this app who are involved in my personal life and have seen evidence of my love life through pictures and private stories on social media. quite frankly, these are the only individuals who i have to justify the validity of my personal life to, and it’s honestly quite violating for someone to stoop to dragging someone’s outside life into issues about tumblr. i extend a very genuine fuck you to every single one of you that have ridiculed my personal relationship and just know that you are extremely bold to consider yourselves above bullying when this is the type of behavior you admit to engaging in. individuals with complex familial relationships, and identity struggles between cultural norms, their ethnicities, and the western world are not your playground to make a joke out of. some of us have very real struggles, such as not being able to pursue careers in favor of arranged marriages, not being able to pursue actual relationships that mean something to us due to a lack of familial approval, being forced to bear children at young ages due to familial pressure, and so on. they are not laughing matters, and are a part of my reality. and before some of you get started—yes, it really is that serious. i have struggled my entire life with having white girls poke fun and tease at my cultural norms, and i refuse to allow another white and privileged individual who already has a record of racially related discourse walk away with once more poking fun at my personal struggles and not be called out for it. i hope you had a good, long, satisfying laugh emmie.

onto my next points based on claims @/anantaru has made about me. the main thing i’d like to really point out here is that anantaru and i have never, not even once, interacted to the extent of my knowledge. they claim that cat and i cannot stand it when people cross us in numbers and that we go through people’s likes in order to find minors and blank blogs to explain all the notes. a) i am very bad at checking for minors and blanks in my own notes, so this is not even a logical approach on my end, but b) this claim is made because cat made this post under the tags of a post going around last year that asked to hear unpopular ficblr opinions.

what cat means to articulate here is that sometimes, when she is scrolling on dash and interacting with moots and their shit/talk-posts, she peeks at profiles she sees in the notes and has happened to catch minors lurking. cat, firstly, has never followed anantaru, so they are not a “victim” to cat glancing at their likes, but secondly, this is not nearly as psychotic as it’s painted out to be. cat is not, and was not, jealous of other blog's notes. quite plainly, she’s not exactly a tiny blog either, and she’s only stumbled upon minors in the talks-posts of moots, including me. shit-posts/talks-posts are easy to notice minors lurking on, and while most people recognize that it’s quite impossible to catch every minor and ageless blog in writing posts with numerous notes, a simple shit-post on dash is more simple, and her unpopular opinion was simply that blogs that grow rapidly need to be better about catching those minors because they are susceptible to having more of them lurking. it’s a really harmless sentiment, and she’s gently reminded me as well on more than one occasion to be more responsible about my habit of being lazy when scouting for minors in my interactions. 

this is not out of jealousy, nor is it some sick and twisted habit she has to “explain” why people get more notes than she might get. it’s also out of a place of concern for her own content ?? i myself and plenty of other large blogs reblog from mutuals, and they are well within their right to be concerned that perhaps minors are lurking on our pages and interacting with works we reblog from our mutuals. cat has voiced this concern to me before, also out of goodwill and simple concern for my content, her content, and minors in general. there is simply no need to twist it into her viciously looking down upon large blogs and their notes counts and claiming they’re “only because they don’t block minors.” admittedly, though, i do need to be better about catching minors, and i have always appreciated her trying to keep me in the habit of being responsible about it. more importantly, it was a small passing comment under a post of unpopular opinions, a lot of them were hot takes, and this is hardly a serious one to get so heated over. 

i’d also like to point out that anantaru has claimed we blocked them for being a gatekeeper and because we’re jealous of their notes. 💀. a) i am very grateful and very happy with the level of interaction i get on my writing, as more people than i imagine leave me countless comments and reblogs. i have never had an issue with comparing my interaction with that of other writers because i have always been abundantly content with the interaction i get. i have no other comment on this other than cat and i blocked anantaru at the same time because we happened to see a post of theirs reblogged onto our dash that made a joke that we felt was a bit insensitive to/alluded to SA—i’m sure it wasn’t meant to be taken that way, but it made us uncomfortable regardless. while we are both dark content supporters, and i myself have read more than one fic that includes noncon in particular, it doesn’t mean we have to like/enjoy everything related to it and we simply decided to block them. i’m not going to bring this post up bc it’s simply not important. they are an adult who is more than entitled to make jokes on their blog and cat and i do not have to like them !! we simply did what we were well within our rights to do, and that’s blocking them.

there’s more they go on to say about receiving hate asks and that apparently it’s because of our “group of friends.” cat and i don’t have a group of friends. i don’t have any group chats with her besides the one with her boyfriend because i get along with him sometimes as well, and we used to play genshin together a lot when i was in low ar. not that i have to explain my friendships here, but i quite literally do not have a group of people to “send after” anantaru because people are well aware of my close friends, who i text with my personal phone number. i’ve posted silly screenshots of convos on my blog multiple times, and none of these friends overlap because i do not have a “group” of friends, just individual friends who i talk to one on one. cat is not friends with my other friends, and my other friends are not friends with her. there are no inner circles that conspire together to send anyone hate because i “tell them to.” and if there are screenshots of me explicitly encouraging someone to send hate on anon, i would love to see it. if i had sent my anons after anantaru, it would have to be a public post, and i’m sure if there were a post of such nature, it would have been brought to light by now. they have also claimed they were given multiple urls of mine to block. i only have ONE writing blog, @/saetoru, and the only other two that are still up are archived blogs @/hanmine and @/katsuphilia, which are side blogs attached to saetoru and have been inactive for several months. there are however, multiple individuals on this app who also go by the name “tee,” and perhaps we have unfortunately been mixed up as the same person, but the only blog i have is saetoru, so there is no other active blog they have blocked me from that belonged to me and was able to harass them.

not only that, but anantaru has claimed that one person off anon sent them hate with a kaeya url which they insinuate to be me. once again, you are all more than aware of my history of urls, and many of you have all been here to see them. i’ve never once had a kaeya url, nor have i ever been particularly interested in kaeya outside of a small number of posts on a rare occasion. my genshin favorites have always been characters from sumeru and, at one point diluc, and once again i don’t have to ?? explain my selfships to you all ?? but literally, i have nothing to do with a kaeya blog or kaeya account, and im unsure why it’s being thrown into my name. quite frankly, i’m not sure  what their moot has told them we have said about them, but the only conversations cat and i have ever had about anantaru was that one about the noncon joke, and that’s it. outside of that, there is literally no evidence of us speaking about this person because it simply doesn’t exist. 

i implore you all to, instead of starting public discourse over things you hear, confirm them first. had anantaru reached out to me or cat and expressed that they are upset that we are supposedly spreading false rumors about them gatekeeping, then whatever misunderstanding it might have been could have been cleared. i would like to also point out that it is not above bullying when you simply dump numerous accusations that you have heard through half whispers from moots and provide 0 evidence for them. i am perfectly aware of why emmie may consider herself to have issues with me, but i have never had an encounter with anantaru, and truthfully, i’ve never actually even read their writing before. my main (and pretty much only) experience with them is seeing the joke i saw reblogged onto my dash, and as i stated earlier, the only thing i did for that was block and move one.

and lastly, the other point i’d like to make is that numerous blogs who i have been objectively very kind to have come out to take the opportunity to stomp on my character and reputation. for example, tumblr user @/osaemu, who used to follow me and interact with me quite often. i have always been excited to interact with her because she was really supportive of my gojo writing, and at one point, i had a small area of concern with her using the same exact title as me for a gojo fic. below are screenshots of our conversation regarding the titles.

i am quite confident that this is a very polite interaction, and i was very clear that i didn’t think that her writing elements, including gojo’s parent dynamics and his dynamics with the reader, were copied or even something that i felt she needed to change. i pointed them out as a way of indicating that between these parallels and between the fact that i know she reads my rb! gojo series, i find it difficult to believe that our fic titles being exactly the same is a coincidence, and it made me uncomfortable—my concern was not how she wrote gojo’s parents or his dynamic with reader. i never accused her of stealing ideas that were mine alone to use, all i simply wanted to do was shed light on the fact that based on these parallels, i figured the names being the same was a touch difficult for me to brush aside as a chance similarity. i was very clear to outline that i know these dynamics and themes in writing are generic, and that people can pull inspo from them because i have done the same thing. my only concern was the title, which i politely asked her to change, and she agreed. case closed. i have been, again objectively, quite kind to osaemu, and i had no intentions of blocking her like a moot had suggested because i felt it was a very silly issue to block over since she was very lovely to me. 

i did, however, block her because she posted one-paragraph posts with multiple characters tagged. that’s not a crime on her end, and i’m certainly not here to police her posts in the tags, but as me and plenty of other people on this app have voiced multiple times, it is a bit irritating and feels like spam to see posts of these kinds in the tags so i blocked her. this is a very popular opinion and i refuse to be considered problematic for it. i am not here to police what constitutes an appropriate post to tag x reader tags on, and while i have made posts simply sharing my opinion on what i feel should and should not be tagged, osaemu is more than welcome to post whatever she feels she would like to into the tags. i do, however, block anyone who i come across who makes those kinds of posts because i simply don’t like them, and i don’t like seeing them. i don’t owe an explanation for why i block anyone, but seeing as i have been painted as some bitch for doing so, here is my reasoning. quite a lot of people agree on this sentiment, and to each their own, but i don’t enjoy seeing those posts. i did also unblock her at one point, as she mentioned. this is simply because a mutual of mine had voiced that they felt someone had copied the concept of their drabble, and i was helping them word a message to send, so i went back to this exact conversation to look back on what i said because it was a similar situation. as you know, blocking someone hides their dms from your dm list, so i had intended to temporarily unblock her just to see how i worded my message to help formulate a message for a mutual. there were no screenshots sent, i simply wanted to jog my memory of my points, that’s all. i did forget to block her again for a bit but eventually did, and that’s the extent of our interactions. i don’t recall posts telling people that i condone sending anons with death threats like she has claimed, and if she could point out the particular posts i have made where i encourage people to send anon death threats on my behalf, i would be more than happy to clear them up, or address them. 

i have admittedly, on a few occasions said in my responses to anon hate itself, the phrase “kys” out of frustration, and there are i’m sure conflicting opinions on that, but i do not regularly use this phrase in my vocabulary. i have been on the receiving end of graphic sexual and violent asks in my inbox regarding me, my teenage sister, and my mother, during my time on here, and sometimes out of frustration i have said less than dignified things, but this is not a constant behavior, and frankly, i think once people make graphic, violent, and inappropriate comments about my 16 year old sister, saying “kys” in response is not the greater of the two evils. it is a tad bit hypocritical to expect benevolence from me to an anonymous hate ask just because there is “another person” at the end of the screen when they have not extended the same sentiment to me.  

all of that being said, jumping on the trend to trample on someone while you have the opportunity to because you’re bitter they blocked you is also no better than bullying. apart from blocking osaemu, I have taken careful steps to always be respectful to her due to the very kind comments she’s left on my writing. leaving nice comments on my writing is deeply appreciated and welcome, but that doesn’t mean i have to subject myself to seeing posts i do not want to see on my dash on my phone. i pay for the phone bill, so i will cater my phone to show me what i want to see, and if that includes blocking a few people, i am allowed to do that !! i should not have to apologize for or be crucified for blocking someone and their feelings being hurt over it. 

not only this, but several of you have somehow started a rumor that i am 26 or even pushing 30. that’s nowhere close to the truth. i’m 21, soon to be 22, and i have stated multiple times i am an undergraduate college student. of course, there is no timeline to college, and people of all ages complete their undergrad degrees, but i have made it a point to vent about my concerns numerous times that i am very stressed about taking extra classes every semester to compensate for changing my major late because i want to graduate on time. my graduation year is 2024 (as would make sense seeing as i will be 22 years old), and if you don’t believe me, i have celebrated my bday on april 12th of every year this blog has been active. you’re more than welcome to check my archive to see if that’s true, and for further reference, here is a picture i have sent to mods of servers i am in to be accepted. (note that my url used to be hanmas before saetoru.)

although there is no shame in being 26 or pushing 30, the reason why i wanted to address this is that i wanted to point out that yet another rumor has been fiercely pushed on my name and has been believed to be the truth. no one has to walk away from reading this post assuming that i’m a saint and i have never done anything wrong or that i have been faultless in differences i’ve had with other people. but a lot, if not all, of these claims are exaggerated with 0 evidence, and people have just run with claiming them as true. i physically cannot deny a large majority of these rumors with evidence or screenshots because half of them are made by people i have never interacted with or talked to, and i cannot produce evidence for interactions that never happened. i have seen blank, burner blogs post stories of their experiences with me, one in particular that claims i dm’d them to tell them their hanma fic was breathtaking before i harassed them about their theme, boyfriend, and parents. a) i do not dm anyone to compliment their fics because i am simply too shy to do that. i would have only reblogged the fic with comments if i enjoyed it. b) again, there is no evidence on their part, and i cannot dispel this story with evidence of my own because evidence of conversations that never took place does not exist. and c) i would like to think i do not come across as dense enough to attack someone in their dm’s viciously about their boyfriend and parents openly with my account, where they could easily spread the proof around if it had actually happened. i am not responsible for people’s internet literacy, and if people believe every story that is shared with not even a small piece of proof that it took place, i cannot do anything besides simply urge you all to formulate your opinions based on what you see, not based on what you hear. 

i would also like to end things off with an apology to all of you—mainly because there was no reason for so many of you to be dragged into something that did not involve you and also because there are very disturbing and important issues going on right now in real-time in the world that are affecting a lot of people. i never want to be involved in something that takes attention off of important discussions such as genocide, and while many of you like to claim i am deflecting, i think it is quite telling that some people have posted nothing about something this important but have made multiple posts regarding discourse. i did not feel it was appropriate at that time to focus on discourse, and i still do not think so, but i wanted to leave off with my own statement.

i would also like to apologize if i have ever come across as unkind during an experience with me; it is never my intention to be that way purposely. i have a habit of being petty sometimes and can be a bit short-tempered, and it’s something i work on. with as large of a following as i have, sometimes it’s better not to say anything at all than say it—however vaguely it might be. i hope some of you who also have larger followings keep that in mind so that you can avoid discourse erupting into something grand scale. please vent to people you trust and be wary of having a habit to subpost. but mainly, please remember that people trusting you with their feelings and troubles is not something you should take pride in spreading. there is nothing to be proud of about sharing people's private socials, urls, and conversations. while i am not always able to keep my temper under wraps, and while i have had my fair share of petty moments, i, to the best of my ability, have always made sure that i don’t come across as intentionally cruel or mean, nor have i purposely broken someone’s trust. sometimes i have retaliated back a bit fiercely, but i stand by the fact that i never purposely chased or drove anyone off, mocked or belittled them, or sent people over to dislike/hate them. i have at times vented to those who i believe are people i can trust, sure—but this is something we as people are all guilty of. there’s no way any of us can hold one person more accountable than others for partaking in closeted conversations that are never meant to get back to people and hurt them. 

i genuinely loved, and still love, writing very much, and i have always appreciated every ask, every reblog, and every comment. writing is a hobby i am greatly passionate about, and it’s always a hobby i was very excited to share with people on here because i don’t get to share it with people irl. i don’t willingly tell people irl that i enjoy making elaborate plots about anime characters, and i have always been very excited to share that hobby with you all, whether you are a reader or writer. i’ve read fanfiction for a very long time before i ever decided to try my hand at writing it, and i would never want to knock other people down simply because they “surpassed” me. i enjoy finding writers to read from, especially those who write better than me, because they are where i draw the most inspiration and motivation from. the moots i look up to most are moots who are in my opinion, far stronger writers than me, and moots who i always firmly believe deserve much more reach than i do on their stories because they’re far more fleshed out and in-depth than anything i can produce. and i am proud of them !! and even those of you who feel you are stuck not getting as much reach as you would hope, i am proud also of all of you for picking up a google doc or pen and writing and trying, whether you choose to share it or not. i will always strongly encourage you all to try your hand at writing if you have ever considered it because i have genuinely built such a better sense of self-esteem when being able to incorporate pieces of myself in my stories and express parts of who i am—i think some of you might really enjoy the catharsis that writing brings, and if you ever debate on trying it out, please do !! you might become really passionate about it. 

anyway, this post is abysmally long. none of it is to clear my name in hopes that i will be “un-canceled” (LOL) because i have decided saetoru is long overdue to be put to rest. i hope you can all, at the very least, allow other writers some peace and stop harassing them in their inboxes for knowing me (because that is also bullying and very ironic of you), and i hope you all got some sort of understanding of where i am coming from. if you think poorly of me, that’s okay. i have an opinion of myself, and the close people who surround me, that i am confident in, and while i may not have always handled things in the brightest of manners, i am well aware of what my intentions have always been. 

i’m deeply grateful to all 41k of you, and thank you for reading my works and allowing me to write for you !! thank you for all the very, very kind asks that i never got a chance to fully answer each one of, and thank you especially for all the supportive comments and love on the writing i’ve posted. they might be silly fics you read once and moved on from, but they’re all pieces of me, my life, and things that are important to me, and as cringe and cheesy as it sounds, it means quite literally everything to me when people read them and take away something from them. 

also, as a parting gift, i will be posting the nerd gojo, ex-convict geto, and a marriage rb! gojo fic to my ao3 (also saetoru) for those of you who have been patiently awaiting those wips to enjoy. please (a little more patiently) keep your eyes peeled for those <3 i will no longer be posting or active on saetoru, and in the event that i keep writing, it will be posted on my ao3, so you all will know where to find me !!

so for the last time, i love you my little runts !! wishing you all the best, and goodbye to my lil saetoru bestees. 

mwah !!

— tee <3

ps. i also have turned off reblogs for this post and limited replies to people i follow only. a lot of you will jump to say that it’s simply because i am “hiding,” but it is solely because i have said my piece and i intend to move on. thank you and have a lovely day shawtee ✌🏽

[xxextrie]

Can we just agree Alastor is one of vivsie's worst characters?

Disclaimer this post was meant to share points about the demonizing a real religion I have heard been said by people of color especially people in those religions who have been overlooked and diminished due to vivsie stans who are mad at the critiques.

So for one he does voodoo in the show which I wouldn’t trust Viv or any of the others to do, but a lot ended up very demonizing, Vivziepop made one character who does voodoo (which is a closed religious practice and Black/Creole/Haitian culture that is constantly demonized in media, like actually fucking stop). and is a demon and that’s all she thought was necessary for the representation, she could’ve had Sera/Emily practice voodoo as they are black women with powerful magic maybe characters who aren’t completely shown as demonic? Vivziepop tried to control the backlash from her using a practice she is not a part of by stating the alastor was mixed. (showing how little she cant draw non-white characters if she can just race swap them at the flip of a switch) Alastor most recently was said to be white/Creole.

But this also just was incredibly weird seeing as he is now a mixed man giving a black man/feline character a contract that allowed Alastor to "own" him with tons of imagery of Alastor pulling him around on chains. Which feels strange for him to be a supposedly “likeable character” (and by that I mean in fandom not necessarily in world) I feel like im crazy to have to say no matter your race you shouldn’t “own” somebody. And I don’t think a slaver should been shown in this fan favorite type character ignoring the important part to have character who does bad be shown as doing bad.

Not only is Alastor a shitty character people will defend the writers saying "it’s hell" like really? yea there are awful people in hell but he is shown constantly in a fun quirky way leading him to be a fan favorite so if they were meaning to show how bad of a person alastor is they are doing a shit job.

Along with all of this Al is Vivsiepops only Ace character wtf is that supposed to say about how ace people are portrayed in the show? as Slavers? Rasicts? Heartless? This is her idea of acespec people, the only ace repersentation in her show and this is what she hands us?

Not only that but she refuses to confirm Alastor's romantism to "let people have their fun" aka she doesn't care about aro representation because it might ruin peoples ship. Our romanticism and sexuality shouldn't be something to shove to the side anytime a fan is horny. Imagine if someone shipped Stolas with a girl? do you think she's say that its all fun? No because she doesn't care about ace people or poc people all she cares about in her non-con demon porn.

there is my rant Alastor is Shit Ace representation SHIT voodou representation

Also Mammon and Octavia haven’t done anything in the actual show to achieve ace rep. Also mammon? Really?

[perlelune]

Oxytocin | Coriolanus Snow | ii.

One act of kindness from a peacekeeper may be your salvation or your doom. Possibly both.

Warnings: NON-CON, Blackmail, District 8 Reader, Stalking, Kidnapping

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

You do your best to avoid him for as long as you can. 

You show up at the factory each day, diligent and focused on your work. You thread, dye and sew miles upon miles of fabric. It’s exhausting and repetitive but assists you well in burying the peculiar encounter. And if sometimes a particular shade of blue fabric stir memories of eyes you’d rather forget…you ignore that as well. It’s better that way. You narrowly escaped imprisonment, perhaps even death. No need to tempt fate once again. 

But it’s no matter. 

Because fate finds you anyway. 

It happens as the end of your shift at the factory comes near. Your cold-bitten digits are interweaving two different colors of thread on a gigantic wooden loom. Same as the girls and boys surrounding you. They’re all quick and efficient, threading and weaving with the ease of practice. A lifetime of it. Some of them are as young as five years old. There’s a saying floating around the districts.

If one can walk, they can work. 

You often wondered if that same logic applies to the Capitol’s children. Are they too expected to work until their fingers are numb with pain and their eyes red-rimmed with fatigue?

You somehow doubt it. 

Once again, the weight of someone’s attention blankets your shoulders. You tense, the needle nicking your fingertip when your attention falters. 

You curse and swipe away the blood beading on your finger.

Your head rises. 

Anger simmers inside you at the sight of the smug face smirking at you from across the room. 

Coriolanus. 

He showed up one hour ago, switching places with another guard, and proceeded to stare at you since.

Dread pools in your gut. His gaze hasn’t strayed from you once.

What could the peacekeeper possibly want from you?

You have nothing, and it’s obvious he’s some rich kid from the Capitol who somehow found his way here.

“Your yarn is coming loose.” 

Yara’s frenzied tone wrenches you away from your thoughts. 

You look down, your forehead scrunching as you do. She’s right. The threads have broken out of their pattern, forming disgraceful zigzags over the loom.

Besides, there’s a minuscule crimson stain on the fabric. The pristine beige cloth is now ruined. This will come out of your pay.

Your ire grows. Your gaze narrows as it finds Coriolanus’.  This is all his fault. He distracted you. Annoyance at the strange peacekeeper gleams inside you.

You bolt up from your stool.

“I have to go,” you announce, already gathering your satchel from the floor.

Yara’s eyes round.  “Our shift’s not over yet,” she whispers below her breath, tossing wary glances at the guards. Your frown deepens. Any slight sign of disobedience could be seen as a hint of rebellion these days. It’s how much the Capitol wants to avoid a return to the Dark Days.

You smile at her in reassurance.

Yara was kind enough to show you the ropes when you started working at the textile factory. She even stayed late at night with you to teach you the most complex needlepoints.

Fidgeting, you apologize, “I’m sorry, but it’s an emergency. I’ve ruined it anyway.”

You don’t stick around for her response, rushing towards the nearest corridor to slip away.

A deep, teasing lilt echoes behind you in the hallway.

“Still trying to fly away from me, huh?”

Your heart leaps. Not again. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” you chide as you keep hastening across the hallway. It doesn’t matter though. A stolen glimpse at your back reveals to you that Coriolanus’ long legs easily maintain pace with your frantic strides.

You unleash a weary sigh. 

“I shouldn’t but I am, pretty bird.”

You can hear the smile in his voice and it infuriates you more.

“Leave me alone, Coriolanus-”

A sharp breath ripples through your throat as warm fingers suddenly clasp around your arm.

“What are you…”

The large hand that drapes over your mouth quiets your budding protest.

Ignoring your muffled shouts, he pulls you flush against his frame and drags you into a dark room inside another hallway.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you grab at anything you can. He’s undeterred by your feistiness, only unhanding you once he’s slammed the door shut.

A chill dances on your spine  as every deadbolt is meticulously slid into place by him.

Leaning back against the locked door, Coriolanus’s eyes drag over you. He drinks you in for a while as you retreat, as far away from him as the small room allows.

Uncrossing his arms, the blonde starts inching towards you.

Your nerves flare up at his impending proximity. A heavy sigh drops from his chest.

“Why do you make that face when I’m only trying to help you?”

“I don’t want any help from you. I want nothing from you,” you shout. 

He tilts his head, closing the distance. He shoves his hand in his pocket, seeming to search for something. You freeze. 

Shock rocks through you when he conjures a familiar vial, shaking it in front of your face. 

“Hm, Are you sure?” he taunts. 

The urge to steal it from him has your fingertips tingling. But you tried that before, and it didn’t work in your favor. So you snuff out the impulse.

“How did you find out?”

“I have my ways.”

You search his stark cobalt orbs. They give nothing away.

“I just want to take care of you,” he adds.

“Why?”

You startle as his long fingers creep under your chin. You didn’t realize how close he’d gotten, now bending over you so you’re at eye-level.

“Because I can. I could make your life easier.”

His tender inflection, oddly intimate, makes discomfort pool in your stomach.

“I don’t need…”

“Take it.”

As you do nothing to take the bottle he holds up in his fist, Coriolanus exhales wearily.

You gasp when he shoves the vial between your trembling palms.

“Don’t be stupid,” he admonishes. “That cousin of yours won’t make it through winter without these. They’re antibiotics.”

You stare down at the amber bottle. Your shoulders slump. You hate to admit it but he’s probably right. Tilly’s coughing fits are progressively getting worse. She can hardly breathe properly most days. It hurts to see and you’ve been praying for a way to help her. 

And now you have that way. Is it even fair to Tilly to turn his help down because of your own personal hang ups with the peacekeeper? 

His motives elude you but you’re not sure it matters at that moment. 

Tilly’s life is on the line. 

Your fingers squeeze around the vial.

“I know what they are. It’s written on the bottle.”

Interest springs in his cobalt gaze.

“You can read? Interesting,” he hums. “Most people can’t in the districts.”

Your cheeks heat at his assumption. A respectable amount of people in the districts can in fact read. Not the majority, but a few at least. The knowledge just isn’t widespread enough and schools are a luxury most districts cannot afford.

“My grandmother taught me when I was young,” you defend.

He pauses, studying your defiant features. 

His hand wraps around your hand holding the bottle. You try not to shrink, afraid he’ll take it back.

His thumb sweeps over your knuckles.

“These are very rare and hard to get. Don’t let your pride get in the way, pretty bird.”

“I won’t,” you mumble. 

Another bag materializes before you. Coriolanus nudges it in your arms before you can think to protest. “Take that too.”

You glare at him suspiciously. “What is it?”

“Food, water, supplies.”

Grounded in disbelief, you peer inside the bag. Your jaw hangs slack. He wasn’t lying. The bag is brimming with rations. There’s even a few slices of bread and cheese on top. This has to be worth at least a hundred coins.

You purse your lips. “I can’t accept…I have nothing to repay you.”

Corolianus sighs, keeping the bag in your hands with his steely grip as you attempt to return it.

“Then just remember you live because of me,” he says. A lopsided smile blooms on his lips. “That’s the only payment I require.”

You snort. It can’t possibly be that simple, can it?

But Coriolanus’ features harbor no mirth. Skepticism heightens your pitch.

“That’s it?”

“Yes.”

You nod. “Okay, I will.”

Displeasure flickers in his gaze. His fingers sneak below your chin to angle it upward, forcing you to drown in his cobalt stare.

“No, I want to hear you say it, sweet bird.” His tone is laced with a solemnity that wasn’t there before. Your stomach knots. “That you live by the will of Coriolanus Snow.”

A shaky breath flows out of you. You’re suddenly reluctant under his keen scrutiny.

Still, your voice comes out a tremulous croak.

“I live because of you, Coriolanus Snow.”

His entire face lights up with your words, a strange glow appearing in his orbs.

For some reason, you feel as if you just tied a noose around your own neck.

You take a sip of your beer, basking in the bitter, heady aftertaste. Usually, you’re not much of a drinker, but it’s the first true respite you’ve gotten from the blue-eyed peacekeeper in many weeks and you plan on enjoying it. 

A tavern wouldn’t be your first choice but Yara invited you and it occurred to you this isn’t the kind of place a boy smelling like old money and roses would visit. 

It’s rare for you to be anywhere these days without his disarming presence hovering in a corner of the room. 

You’ve even considered abandoning your job at the factory altogether. But it’s not like a girl like you can change careers on a whim. You have no connections, no skill, no talent whatsoever. Nothing but your hard-earned ability to weave threads of fabrics together. 

Maybe the mines at the northern end of the district. 

It’s far from a tempting prospect. The work is downright dangerous. But at least it would shield you from the peacekeeper’s relentless scrutiny. 

“Your shadow isn’t here today," Yara notes.

You drag your eyes away from the band playing on stage. 

“My shadow?”

“That pretty boy peacekeeper who follows you around," she elaborates, her lips curved in amusement. You grimace. If only she knew. There isn’t a shred of mirth in your current predicament. 

You roll your eyes. “He doesn’t follow me around.”

You refrain from saying he does a plethora of other things that puzzle you and stir your discomfort. 

You refuse to trust him, but thanks to him your cousin has been getting noticeably better, even able to walk on her own again now. It’s a relief. Tonight she’s at friend’s and gets to laugh, play and be a regular kid again. 

Besides, though it pains you to recognize it, your belly’s fuller than it’s been in a long time. 

It shames you to admit it, but it took you no time to cave in and gobble down the food he offered. Hunger does strange things to people. 

You loathe yourself for yielding but the feeling of an empty stomach is infinitely worse than that of your wounded pride. 

"He is pretty though," your friend says, glancing away dreamily. 

Your face warms.  "I really don’t care how he looks. I just wish he’d go pester someone else."

"Hm, fair." She drinks from her jug and shrugs. "He could just be bored. I’m sure he’ll stop at some point."

The conversation reaches a halt when a brown-haired guy around your age with a scar across his face stops at your table. 

“Can I ask you to dance?” he asks. His cheeks redden as he awaits your response. A quiet glance passes between you and Yara. You kick her under the table when she nearly lets out a chuckle.

Endeared by the boy’s bashful manner, you answer with a smile, “Sure, why not.”

You let the stranger drag you into a dance, your worries fading into the buoyant, lively  notes played by the band and the boy’s nonchalant grin.

It’s the kind of normalcy you’ve been longing for.

Engrossed in the moment, as the boy slips a hand around your waist, an audible gasp spills out of you when he pulls away from you out of the blue. 

Or rather is wrenched away from you. 

Your brows rise to your hairline.

You gape in horror, the sight of Coriolanus hauling the boy up by his lapels striking you mute. His features are taut with anger as the boy’s hands rise defensively. A mix of befuddlement and fear decorates his features.

Guilt needles your chest. You never expected the blond to show up here of all places. Paranoia seizes the chaotic train of your thoughts. Was he here all along, watching you like a hawk the entire time? Is he always here, never wandering too far from wherever you are?

Fear coils your insides.

"Hey," you call out, relief trickling inside you when your legs move again. You make a beeline to Coriolanus. 

“What is wrong with you?” you shout, trying to pry him off the poor boy. 

It’s not the useless hand scratching his bicep but rather your tone that appears to jerk him out of his trance. 

His grip on the boy loosens as he whirls to you. The stranger wastes no time in running away. You can’t even blame him. You can’t imagine there’d be many repercussions if the blond harmed him, but the opposite can’t be said. 

Coriolanus’ hands slowly lower before balling into fists. 

Irate blue eyes flare as they fall on you. 

You recoil.

“With me?” he growls, crowding your space. "His grubby paws were all over you."

You blink in disbelief, shocked by his accusing tone. You did nothing wrong. It’s not like he can tell you who to dance and not dance with. "G-Grubby…what? I’m not some damsel in need of rescuing, Coriolanus."

He squints at you, displeasure evident on his angular features. 

His hand latches onto your arm, yanking you towards the exit. You can barely keep up with his furious stomps.

“I think it’s time we had a talk. Come with me.”

“I’d rather stay here."

He ignores you, his grip on you turning deathly. Tears burn the back of your eyes. 

“No…”

You toss a desperate look above your shoulder to find your friend just as shocked as you are. She won’t help you. No one will. 

Your stomach sinks. 

The tears break past the confine of your lashes. 

He takes you outside. The chilly air skates across your skin, spreading gooseflesh over it. The silver glow of the moon lights the tortuous path he takes through dim, narrow alleyways. This is nowhere near your cabin and your panic swells. 

You dig your heels into the ground, resisting. 

Coriolanus heaves out a weary exhale. He hunkers down to pick you up. You squeal, flabbergasted by his nerve. He hoists you on his shoulders as if you were a sack of grain, taking firm, irate steps into the night. 

"You can’t do this," you weep, slamming as hard as you can into his back. 

Hardly flinching, he scoffs before stating, “I don’t remember asking for your permission, birdie."

[nctsplug02]

I Wanna Make You Scream j.j

GENRE: smut, second chance

WARNINGS: cnc, ghost face (scream) mask, kissing, no foreplay, breast play, dry humping, doggy-style, missionary, unprotected sex, hair pulling, cheating, deceiving, and spanking.

“yeah,” you set down the piping bag and sigh. “i know, babe. i’ll see you in a bit?” your boyfriend, mark, says a yes and i love you before hanging up.

“i gotta finish this cake up,” you tell yourself and pick the piping back up, again.

you color in the black eyes and ask alexa to play your music. “you hear a creature creepin’ up up behind. you’re out of time— ‘cause i got this thriller!” you sing and bob your head.

“thriller night— there ain’t no second chance.” you take a step back and look at the cake, giving a smile when seeing how nice it looked.

“now for writing,” you sigh and switch to the piping bag with a smaller tip. “don’t fuck up, y/n.” you tell yourself and begin to pipe out a sentence that matched with the cake.

thriller ends and another song plays.

“i…” you emphasize and write cursively. “wanna…” you stick out your tongue and squint your eyes. “make…” you rearrange your placing on the piping bag. “you—fuck!” you hiss when the frosting pops and explodes a bit.

take your time, y/n.

you nod and refocus on the cake before mark got to your place. “you…” you pipe again and ignore the small mistake.

the cardboard platter it was on was already black so it didn’t matter since it blended in perfectly.

“scream…” you finish off and set down the piping bag with a huff. “finally,” you groan and start cleaning up your mess.

after cleaning, you turn back to your cake and the blob of black frosting has you staring at it for a good minute. “my OCD says not tonight.” you grab items that are small enough to clean your mistake.

you gasp as your song plays, “lock me up and throw away the key, you know how’da get the best outta me. i’m no fool for the world to see, trade my whole life just to be.” you sing and hum the beat after kim jennie finishes her line.

you gasp when feeling hands on your hips and a bulge against your lower back. “mark,” you giggle and continue to clean the mess. “you’re early. why so?” he doesn’t answer.

you turn to see your boyfriend wearing a ghost face mask. “what? babe, i thought we agreed to be cops and robbers, no?” you laugh and smack the chin of the mask.

you shake your head and turn back to the cake. “can you go sit in the living room? you aren’t supposed to see the cake yet!” you chuckle and attempt to hide the cake.

the grip on your hips return. “ow, mark,” you wince with a half giggle when feeling the grip on your hips tighten. “you’re hurting my hips, babe.” you stand and place the piping bag next to the cake.

you go to turn but are pushed forward and against the counter. “mark,” you firmly state the slight pain in your hips. “i said you’re hurting me!”

the bulge grows bigger as you try to shove him away. his bulge rubbing against your ass as he grinds his hips against you.

“mark, stop being weird and let go!” you scoff when being pushed onto your chest. your toes barely holding your weight as he bends you over and grinds himself shamelessly against your clothed ass.

“mark,” you breathe out.

your jaw drops when feeling your jeans begin pushed down to your knees. your ass hanging out bare. “what—“ you try and turn your head but immediately, you’re shut down.

“why are you being so rough? you’re never like this!” you let out grunts as the male grows rough with you.

“oh!” you gasp and slap a hand on the marble counter when feeling a cock being pushed into you. “fuck,” you exhale and clench around the thickness. “you’re so fucking thick, mark.” you moan, eyes falling shut.

you groan when feeling your head being tugged back. tight strains on your scalp as the large hand yanks your hair back. with a hand on your lower back, the thrusts begin.

it doesn’t start off slow or anything, the man gets right to the point.

his thrusts going rough and fast, the sounds of his balls beating against your folds and your moans mixing together.

a harsh slap on your ass has you arching up with a moan. “fuck!” you cry out and clench tighter around the thickness that was sucked by your insides.

the large, soft hands rub in the same area before slapping the other cheek. it leaves a hand print that quickly turns red.

you manage to bring a hand below your hips and your fingers find themselves on your clit.

you were dripping.

you moan louder when feeling a shock of pleasure shoot down your spine after rubbing a small circle on your clit.

“i’m gonna cum,” before you can say anything else, you’re yanked off the counter and turned.

you’re caught off guard when seeing the mask but remembering it was just mark underneath.

he lifts you and sits you on the counter where he pushes you on your back and shoves himself inside you.

“fuck, when’d you get so ripped?” the deep rack of chocolate like abs has your eyes stuck. “have you been sneaking off to the gym on your free time?”

you lightly gasp when your the male pulls off the rest of your jeans and tosses them behind him. “that was sexy, baby.”

he hasn’t said a single word to you and it was making you grow frustrated. this wasn’t like mark.

you sit up and grab the collar of the mask. “take off the mask and kiss me, baby.” he yanks his head back from you and snatches the mask from your hold.

you’re shocked when he chokes you, his hands squeezing your throat and then smacking you on the cheek once.

“i—“ you suck in a gasp and roll your eyes when feeling his cock hit your g-spot. “oohh, fuck,” your moan shakes as he fucks you roughly.

his hips slamming into yours while he holds your neck in place. his head spinning in circles as he pants and grunts in the mask.

“fuck,” the male whispers and releases your neck, his hands pulling off the mask and revealing jeong jaehyun.

his dark black hair together in strands of sweat, his gold necklace falling in place and his mouth gapped as he takes deep breaths.

“what the fuck?!” you scream and sit up.

“surprise…missed me, baby?” jaehyun licks his lips and heaves with a smile.

your eyes well up. “j—jaehyun,” you gasp. “and, here i thought you forgot about me.” jaehyun frowns and rubs your thighs.

“how are you here? w—why are you here?” jaehyun smirks and grabs your waist so that your legs are wrapped securely around his waist. “i wanna make you scream, baby.”

jaehyun begins fucking into you, again. ignoring your questions and demands.

“m—my boyfriend is almost here! he’s gonna—he’s gonna kick your ass.” you pant and ignore the pleasurable feeling. “is he now?” jaehyun chuckles and shakes his head.

“let’s make it quick then, why don’t we?” you shake your head and slap a hand over your mouth.

eyes rolling back and mouths slipping through the gaps of your fingers.

“c’mon, baby. i wanna hear how pretty you sound, don’t hide yourself now.”

fuck it, you’ve only been dating mark for a month and a half now. what’s there to lose?

you remove your hand from your mouth and allow your moans to fill the room. “‘s my girl,” jaehyun chuckles and rubs your clit.

“oh, fuck.” you cry out and allow jaehyun to abuse your cunt like he’d done before in the past.

jaehyun was the only one who knew your body the best. how to get you cumming in minutes, finding your g-spot like it was the easiest thing on the planet and knowing how to get your nipples sensitive from just a singular rub, lick, and flick.

“cum for me, princess.” your cunt swallowing him whole and giving jaehyun a whole show as it does.

“fuck, im cumming,” you sigh. “that’s it, princess. do as i say.” legs shaking and squeezing jaehyuns tiny waist as you cream all over the thick cock.

“uh-huh, baby.” jaehyun bites his lip and grunts, giving one last slow thrust and cumming inside you.

his hands grabbing your cheeks and forcing you into a sloppy kiss with him. his teeth gnawing at your bottom lip before pulling away with a sexy moan.

“you taste exactly how i remembered,” jaehyun chuckles and bites his lip. “so fucking sweet.” he gives you one more kiss and pulls up his black sweats.

as jaehyun helps with your panties, you speak up. “jaehyun,” he hums and fixes your jeans that are inside out. “how’d you get in?”

a smirk forms on his lips. “you know, princess,” he sighs and helps one foot in. “i would say this is a lesson for you but, i’m glad this happened.” he looks up at you. “really.” he puts the other foot in.

jaehyun helps you off the counter and pulls up your jeans. “you should always keep your doors locked.” as you stand flabbergasted, he buttons up your jeans and pats your hips when finished.

“i’ll see you next time, princess.” jaehyun kisses you once and grabs his mask off the ground, turning and leaving with once last wink over his shoulder.

it takes you a good ten minutes to take that all in. “wow,” you stand against the counter and put a hand over your mouth, rubbing your lips and jaw. “wow…” you shake your head.

KNOCK KNOCK!

now, that was mark.

AN| this was SO last minute. i wrote this 6 minutes before halloween. SIX MINUTES BEFORE MIDNIGHT OF HALLOWEEN DAY! so if there are any mistakes, just enjoy and imagine and read and take in everything like you know what i said. i love you and trick or treat safely. 🩷🩷🩷

AAN| i am so sorry if this fic made any of you readers uncomfortable! there was an anon who reached out to me and explained who they felt and what i should’ve added in the warnings so i fixed it! please always reach out to me whenever i’ve made a mistake! it’s always embarrassing when i make mistakes but i like to go by the quote that “mistakes are meant to be learned from.” i love you so much, anon, thank you for reaching out to me! i am so very sorry that i made you uncomfortable, i really didn’t intend to! 🩷

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to The Incomprehensible's Chapter 334

Brief summary: Cale is in denial of having a religion based on him. Pope Kesilia and the Aipotu dragon half-bloods will become NPCs of the game world. Cale demands his compensation from the WT and the source of the world.

===========

Cale was so cute with his protests today. He raised his voice, insisting that it was the source of the world that was the five-colored light, not him. And he was left gasping for breath afterwards. 😂 Meanwhile, Clopeh continued to annoy Cale with Clopeh's holy smile and giggles. 🤣🤣🤣

Unfortunately, Pope Kesilia said that it was up to the Aipotu residents on what new god or religion they would replace the old Ten Dragon Gods religion. The past three days was enough for a new religion to emerge because the temples built for the old religion just switched to the new religion... 🤣🤣🤣

In the end, Cale decided to just forget and ignore it... 😂😂😂 Cale, this is how your problems worsen. When you try to ignore it. 🤣🤣🤣

Next up was what happened to the Aipotu dragon half bloods. Cale gave them the same offer Exion once gave - to live in the game world. Just like how Cale told the Dragon Half-Blood Eden that "whatever you are, you are you", Cale told the Aipotu dragon half bloods to "live the life you want to live, whatever form you want to be". 🥰🥰🥰

Pope Kesilia accepted Cale's offer, and would become an NPC like Eden, unable to leave the game world, but the other dragon half bloods who have longer lifespans would be semi-NPCs, able to travel Aipotu and New World back and forth. They would become the protectors of Eden Miru in the 7th Evil dungeon.

Cale telling Kesilia and the dragon half bloods to become the "best villains" after saving them greatly confused them... 🤣🤣🤣 But they did not hesitate to protect Eden because he was like them, and they too had seen Eden "sacrificing" himself to minimize the effects of Neo's suicidal explosion.

I'm happy for Kesilia. With all her targets of revenge gone, she no longer wished to destroy the world. She even wanted to live. Her subordinates were also supportive of her, saying that they would follow whatever decision she would make. 🥰🥰🥰

The author's hint of the future though... 😂😂😂

They did not know the distant future yet. That this place was the beginning of the "Miru Knights", aka the "Dragon Half-Blood Knights." The maelstorm that would shake up the New World villain community, and even the entire New World. They did not know yet.

Ending Remarks Lots of funny and touching moments today. Next chapter would be Cale claiming his compensation from the WT and the source of the world. I wonder, what would he get this time?

[rexxdjarin]

A Twisted Fantasy

Commander Wolffe x F!Reader One Shot

Summary: Wolffe is a little (a lot) pent up and he knows only one way to truly unwind until he can get home to you. Word Count: 2k Chapter Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ RATING, dom!Wolffe (is there any other kind lol?), p in v sex, light bdsm themes and spanking, male masturbation reference Notes: I was inspired by our boy finally posting tf up in the trailer🤍 crossposted on ao3

My head is fucking pounding.

Wolffe thought.

Probably atmospheric changes bothering my eye again. 

As their transport hurtled through hyperspace back home to the Triple Zero, he was truly just thankful to be on solid ground and in breathable air. On extended tours like this, Wolffe was always on edge and testy. He missed the comforts of his barracks back home. He missed nights off at 79s with his brothers. Most of all, he missed her.

It had been so long he could barely detect the scent of her on the panties he kept from his last time with her. So many long rotations of burying his nose in them hoping they’d help him get off. Though, it was less and less satisfying the more he messed with them. With his mission completed and his squad probably recharging in the mess, he probably had time to ease his tension the best way he knew how.

Wolffe switched off the nav he was only casually following their course on and stood up. He glanced around the room only finding it filled with the men who should be on duty tonight. With a curt nod, he turned on his boot heel and left the room. 

Tension pricked up his spine as the anticipation built up for his favorite night time activity. Well second-favorite. He reasoned with himself. As he marched down the hall toward his quarters, he scowled the way he always did when he needed to signal to his men to leave him be. The few he did see as he passed by clearly got the message, as they did nothing more than salute formally and go about their business.

Good. He could only wait so long to take the edge off. 

His fists clenched so hard that his knuckles cracked beneath his gloves as the thought of her seeped deeper into his mind. How she blinks up at him like a tempting little vulptex when she wants him. The soft petal colored lips he can kiss whenever he wants to quiet her bold mouth. The wafting floral scent that drenches him in her for rotations afterwards. He fucking needed her.

He shook himself from his daydreaming as he approached his quarters. Urgently he entered his chaincode and stepped inside, sealing it shut behind him. He let his shoulders sag and tipped his head back, sighing dramatically at the relief flooding him already. In a flash, he set his helmet on his equipment crate and shucked the rest of his armor onto the floor beside it, stripping himself down to his black bodyglove. 

His muscles screamed with overuse and the ache behind his eyes became even more noticeable without the excess weight of his helmet on his head. He eased himself down into bed and slumped into his pillow. The rest was soothing, even on the shitty excuse for a mattress they were all given. In a few moments, he was finally comfortable again.

Although, as the post-mission tension he had been feeling subsided, the overwhelming urge of sexual frustration rose to take its place. His body had already decided this was impossible to ignore, his cock hardening between his legs with every second that passed. The dull ache gave way to the familiar loaded throb that he’d come to welcome in his adulthood. It grounded him and gave him something to look forward to when he returned from a mission.

He sighed with satisfaction as he peeled down the waistband of his bottoms and let his now uncomfortably stiff cock fly up. He let out a huff, wrapping his hand around the base and giving it the gentlest tug to get himself started. The mission, the stress, the pain all melted away as he began a slow rhythm he liked. 

His mind wandered and thoughts of her poured in, like they always did. One dirty little thought in particular began forming. He couldn’t remember if he had dreamed this once before or if it really happened, but it excited him either way…

Her body splayed out on his dark gray sheets, the fabric pooling around her waist and hiding just enough of her breasts to keep things entertaining. He always loved how she looked from behind for obvious reasons, but from this vantage point above her he felt powerful. She looked so unsuspecting and helpless, like prey just waiting to be pounced on.

His cock twitched and bounced with excitement from above her, knowing mere moments from now he’d get to fill her up with it. She looked back at him almost in desperation, her eyes begging him more than her words ever could. 

Wolffe chuckled sadistically, slowly easing himself down to press his chest to her back. She keened for him, her back arching to brush skin to skin the way she craved. She turned her face hoping he would give her the mercy of a few fervent kisses, but not tonight. He couldn’t. His cock was throbbing so hard it hurt. 

He leaned closer, pressing featherlight kisses up her shoulder blade to the side of her neck. Grunting and swearing as he let his hips grind against her ass. She felt so good against him, her skin so soft and warm receiving him as he brushed himself against her lewdly. Teasing himself was torturous, but he enjoyed a little of that now and again. Certainly drove her crazy though. 

Each roll of his hips brushed hers deeper into the mattress beneath her and massaged her clit perfectly. The sound of her gasping and whimpering for more only made him want to go faster. Her hands reached back to grip into his curls and the tugging at his scalp made heat course down Wolffe’s spine like nothing else. 

Fuck. He swore, countering with a love bite in the crook of her neck that everyone would see in the morning. She moaned and pulled tighter making his skin erupt in goosebumps at both the sensation and the sound of her pleasure. She trembled beneath his weight, probably already close to cumming from the friction alone. She was like that when he was gone for a long time, anything he did made her insatiable and it made the sex unreal.

He suckled deep hickies into the thin skin around her jaw and teased her mercilessly as she moaned pitifully for him. He didn’t care. He was impatient and in control and he needed her wet, so she could take all of him easily. He rutted his hips between her cheeks over and over again, holding his hands around her ribcage to hold her steady beneath him.

Wolffe kissed up to her ear, his hands slotting into the dip of her waist to hold her as he slowed his grinding. “Are you ready to take me, darling?” he muttered softly, grazing the shell of her ear with his teeth. “I won’t be gentle, but I can’t wait anymore.”

She mewled pathetically, “I’m ready. I need you. Please, Wolffe.” The sound of his name in her little desperate moan made him snap. With a kiss to her shoulder, he lifted himself back over her and spread her thighs apart. Sticky warmth coated her inner thighs and he groaned as he slid his length through it with ease.

His eyes fluttered as he prodded at her entrance, the head slipping through and splitting her open as he followed through. Wolffe hissed, her heat searing pleasure through him instantly. He snapped a few shallow thrusts to part her walls around him and she cried out moans that would keep Wolffe stimulated for years. 

As her walls enveloped him, he started his grueling rhythm, his hips plowing into her as deep and as hard as he could. He growled in satisfaction, the burning heat swelling in his lower belly sending him into a frenzy. “You take me so fucking good.” He capped his compliment with a swift smack to her ass. 

She swallowed her cries, curling her fingers into his sheets and nodding vigorously. “Always, Sir. Always.” She raised her hips, giving him a better angle, which he took immediate advantage of. He wrapped both his large hands around the small of her waist for better leverage and shoved himself deeper inside her. 

“Awwh, that’s a good girl.” He gritted his teeth, her grip on him tightening markedly at his claim. “So fucking tight I can barely move. You missed me, haven’t you? Need me to come home and open you up just like this.” He laughed, letting his strokes shorten as he rocked into her a little harder. 

“Mhm. It’s not the…same…without you, Sir.” she muttered, turning to scream into the mattress as he sped up. Wolffe shifted to curl his hands into the nape of her neck and turned her head away from the muffling covers of his barracks bed. 

“Ah ah, let them all hear you say that, darling.” He curled his hand into her hair and twisted it around his wrist, pulling just enough to feel good. “Give me a little something to be proud of.” he huffed, the exertion admittedly starting to get to him too. His skin was boiling hot, a sheen of sweat coating his entire body as he slipped against hers. Her ass bounced against him, slapping against his thighs as he pounded her into the mattress beneath them.

“Fuck me, Wolffe.” she begged, her hands frantically searching for grip as he hit a spot inside her that made her scramble. “Right there, again. Harder…I can take it, Commander.” she baited him, rolling her hips back into him.

Wolffe dropped down to rest on his forearms and let himself press his body into hers. She writhed beneath him as his cock speared into her at a lower angle. Her walls fluttered around him and Wolffe knew from experience she wouldn’t last much longer. He groaned lowly as his own orgasm began creeping up on him too.

He bit down on her shoulder and let his hips drive as fast and deep as he could manage. “Know just how you like it, filthy girl. Fast and rough. Let me do whatever I want to you…” he grunted between exerted exhales as he kept up his pace. Her moans got breathier and she nodded in agreement. “Let me ruin this little cunt for anyone else but me.”

She cried out a pitiful “Yes.” Wolffe felt her muscles beginning to tense and her walls collapsing around him. His throbbing cock was suffocating inside her and he shuddered as pleasure began its slow trickle down the length of his own body. He could no longer control the snapping of his hips, the air in his lungs or the strength of his bruising grip on her perfect body. 

His ears filled with the delightful repetitive “Yes, yes….yes, Wolffe…fuck, yes.” Her soft curves and sweat-slick skin pressed against his, her walls trapping his cock in her warmth, her face frozen in permanent ecstasy as the high crashed into her. He pressed his forehead into her shoulder and pulled her hips into his as he locked in, shuddering from head to toe as the crest of his own orgasm dragged him under.

His groans died in his throat as he emptied each spurt of pleasure inside her. He lost count of how many times he shot molten hot ribbons into her heat. He panted, the overwhelming pleasure leaving him so delightfully and completely spent. He collapsed on top of her, rolling them both over to cuddle her close while he regained his ability to breathe.

Wolffe let his large palm rest on the soft plush of her lower belly, just over where he’d filled her completely full of him. She was already asleep, far too tired to stay conscious after something as intense as they usually were together. He’d hold her close and keep her safe, even if she wasn’t awake to experience it, for as long as she needed him…

He blinked away the haze of orgasm and came to with a mess on his hands. With the headache and all the tension completely gone, the pull of sleep was inevitable, finally. He cleaned himself off and laid back into bed, knowing that by the time he woke up in 0600 hours he could make that fantasy a reality all over again.

--

notes: hi I love him your honor I will probably add taglist and upload to ao3 later but I just wanted to get this posted bc im excited about it.

[readychilledwine]

A Father's Love

Summary - Eris comforts his pregnant mate after a small breakdown. Eris x pregnant!reader

Warnings - pregnancy and mental health

A/N - This isn't something I've previewed, but I had to use some of the things my baby daddy said to me in a drabble (because oof my heart exploded) and it felt nice to have an outlet for the icky pregnancy guilt and worries Im dealing with. Hopefully, you all melt at this, too..

ps- I'm thinking about adding a dad drabble series masterlist to my page. Let me know if you'd like that.

Word count - 550

Eris held your hand from across the table, the calloused pad of his thumb dancing across and between your knuckles as you cried.

"No one said it would be this hard," another round of sobbing shook your shoulders. "No one said we would ride this high and reality would hurt when it crashed." Eris just nodded. Staying silent and allowing you to vent while those amber eyes softened in love and concern.

You rose your shaking free hand, wiping the warm tears from your face. "And then to top it all off, I'm so selfish right now I did not even notice you were worried or a shift in your emotions. I didn't even feel it through the bond-"

"Stop." Eris demanded. His tone was still gentle, but he was firm, his face now set in a serious line. "Do not even concern yourself for a moment with my feelings or needs right now. We are talking about you."

"That's the problem, the past 8 months have been about me and what I want, what I need, what the I'll need after birth, what baby will need. What about you, Eris? When do we discuss what you need?"

He moved to you, then, feet guiding him gracefully across the floor as he placed your hands on his warm chest. You could feel his heartbeat, pacing in its soft rhythm, and it calmed you enough to bring you back from the tipping point you were approaching. "I am not the one whose body is constantly changing," he began. "I am not the one who is about to have to change my diet, my habits, and ignore my wants for the next year to feed our child." 

He leaned in kissing your forehead. "I am not the one who asked to wait a few more years then had to cry alone for several weeks until I was ready to talk about how our protection failed. I am not the one sacrificing so much. You are, my love. We will talk about me and my needs when they matter."

He smiled softly. "Besides, I picked her name. I picked her coming home outfit. I picked her nursery colors, her first stuffie, her toy room theme. If my opinion was given, you immediately compromised or switched plans." His hand went down to your swollen stomach. "You didn't even allow anyone else to feel her until you ensured I did first."

You still sniffled. "But aren't you mad?"

Eris looked slightly taken back, two fingers coming to tilt your fallen chin up and ensure you held eye contact with him. "You are growing my legacy, our child. How could I be mad at you for being in pain, tired, or crying? There's no words I can say to express how blessed and grateful I am." Your jaw trembled as he leaned in and kissed you. "Do you understand?" You nodded, and he stared at your stomach, waiting. "Someone needs her mommy to take a few deep breaths, drink a hot chocolate, and have a snack." Eris moved, instantly over to the cabinet you two had been hiding your cravings in and pulled out your box of chocolates. "Let's go be lazy, read in bed, and eat these." He held a hand to you, waiting for you to take it and smiled widely when you did. "There's my girl. Now, regular hot chocolate or fancy hot chocolate?"

You sniffled again, significantly more calm this time as he led you into your shared bed chambers. "Fancy."

He smiled again, kissing your forehead, then your nose. "Get changed, get comfy. I'll be back with hot chocolate smothered in marshmallows and whipped cream."

[cup1dt3a]

Hi, hope this is ok to request, if not feel free to ignore it. Can I request a continuation of the story you recently wrote about reader and their sister watching welcome home and them talking with Wally?. I would love to see Wally and Reader starting to bond and if you’re comfortable writing it, the reader falling in love with Wally too. Thanks so much.

Your wish is my command! Also you’re too kind and your request is so wholesome I like it. Way more fluffy than my original idea but I like it better since my last post was kind of dark! Anyways hope you all enjoy!

“ Wally! Look it’s us! There’s me, big ___, and you!” Your sister happily exclaimed to the puppet wanting to show off their stick figure drawing.

“ Oh that’s very nice little one have you shown ___ yet?” He asked through the screen with a small tilt to his head as they shook theirs.

“ No it’s a surprise so don’t tell them!” They said putting a finger to their lips as a way to say it’s a secret.

It’s been a month since your “conversation” with Wally and true to his word he watched over her like a hawk. Taking care of them with their limited reach throughout the screen. You were just happy he kept his word but you still had an odd feeling about him. Throughout the passing month as you supervised their interactions each one was wholesome and sweeter than the last. Almost too cute in your opinion. Your sister tried to hug the Tv once and accidentally brought it down with her thinking it would be a good idea to pick it up. After having the biggest scare of both your lives her and Wally were ok. Thankfully the Tv didn’t shatter and the weight didn’t crush her. But she had sobbed her eyes out from the scare of the Tv coming down onto her.

Both you and Wally comforted her after the scare and for once she had calmed down very quickly. Completely fine just a little scratch on her cheek. She called it her battle scar it made her happy so whatever. But you were just amazed at how fast she calmed down. Still flabbergasted as you made your way back from work. You set out enough food to last her a few hours and she knew to get food she wanted from the pantry or fridge so she would be ok. But with Wally’s help you had a free babysitter so it was a win win.

You turned the key to your apartment yawning as you made your entrance. Right as your younger sibling excitedly hugged you in the darkness of your home startling you for a second.

“ Geez, you almost scared me!” You chuckled hugging them back before putting your bag down.

“ I made you something!” They said before could ask turning on a light switch to show the colorful stick figures.

They explained it was all of you. Each drawn out as stick figures she was at the side of you holding your left hand while a very tall Wally held your right.

“ Hmm…very lovely buuut.” You said as they looked up at you in confusion before snickering adding “ I think Wally would be a lot shorter.”

You saw the puppet huff out in the corner of your eye making you giggle. Your sister also huffed at you upset for making Wally upset. The puppet blushed upon seeing your gorgeous glow as you giggled out ever so graciously. If only you knew what you did to him with that beautiful smile.

You plopped down onto your comfy bed sighing in delight to finally be off your feet. You had just put your sister to bed and they compliantly agreed to go to bed right away if they got pancakes. Pancakes also had been sounding super good to you so why not? Besides you were too tired to argue with anything at the moment. You had worked 2 extra hours and went through three rush hours. They were all so much fun. Your feet were aching and your eyes formed bags getting heavier as you kept your irises open.

As you turned over to face your Tv about to put a horror movie or something on Wally all the sudden appeared with his big smiling face.

“ Tiring day huh my sweet dreamer?” He said with a tilt to his head as you nodded.

“ Poor thing always working so hard. You’re wilting more than a flower in the winter.” He cooed at you as you slowly dazed off.

“ Good night my sweet.” He told you.

“ Night love you.” You replied only half awake to have any conception of what you said as you snuggled your pillow closer to you

He froze. He couldn’t believe it. You just said that. You said you love him. Oh how the words just replayed in his head as if they were his favorite lyrics of a song. Repeatedly echoing through this head as he watched you ever so peacefully sleep going off into your own fantasies. He wondered if you ever fantasized about him. What would you think or see him as in your dreams. Oh he hoped they were as good as his. He yearned everyday for the feeling of your flesh on top of his. Oh how would you smell? How would you feel? What would you do if you were given the opportunity to have him in person? Oh he hoped you’d embrace him as tight as he hoped to. You’re such a delightful little sweet of his. His own forbidden fruit that was all his to savior and enjoy.

As you dreamed away in your fantasy land the puppet had longingly gazed at you the whole night admiring every bit of you he could take in. Even with his limited access to you you never failed to grace him with your generous looks. Oh great gods how you reduced him into nothing other than a mushy mess of putty for you. Just for you. After all everything he did was for you.

You woke up earlier than usual but still felt so well rested. Stretching out you noticed the the screen was blank for once. It was odd usually Wally was there to greet you. You oddly wanted him to greet you. Your morning just felt off if he wasn’t there to greet you with his big dark eyes and wide smile on your Tv screen. You got up to go check if he was busy with your little sister. You checked their room just to be sure they were awake and to your surprise they were sleeping. You looked at the time seeing it was only 6 in the morning. No wonder they’re still knocked out. You swiped your hair back pushing your bangs and loose strands of hair to go and find out where Wally was. You yawned again as you went to the living room still not seeing your little friend.

“ Wally?” You called out hearing no reply.

“ Wally you there?” You asked out again.

You didn’t know why but you felt your heart stop knowing he wasn’t here. You couldn’t help but no notice ho empty you were starting to feel without him as you continued on with your day. You made pancakes at 8:15am he still wasn’t there. You finished getting ready for your shift at 9 o’clock. You took your sister to work with you not sure if he’d even come back. It was a rainy day out so you made sure they brought their raincoat and umbrella. Your boss was fine with you bringing her even without asking before hand. He had expressed this multiple times, so you hadn’t bothered to ask this time.

It was again a very busy day at work. Your sister this time had to play with herself since Charley wasn’t there today due to him having to go on some diet because of stomach inflammation. Along with them not having any food suitable for his diet here. And yes, your sister had asked your boss all about that while you insisted she didn’t and left them alone. He once again said he didn’t mind but you felt so bad! As you dragged her to an area where she wouldn’t bother any customers you finally got back to your shift, after getting her some food. Sure you wasted your own lunch break but she needed to eat either way. She was still a growing girl she needed protein even as much as she protested against broccoli she ate it with a glare at you.

As you went back to your shift you couldn’t help but have your mind wonder to where Wally possibly could have went. You sighed out pulling back a strand of hair as you wiped down the messy table. Some people seriously can’t even try and have some decency as to not make a huge mess. You wondered if they poured their food all over the table at this point.

You chuckled at a thought lingering where you accidentally poured soup into your lap. Wally had made it a joke where-

“ Hey! Hello anyone home?” Your coworker clapped their hands in front of you getting your attention.

“ What is it?” You asked as they crossed their arms. “ Wha- What’s been up with you? Smiling and gazing off into the distance…Do you like some one?” They asked.

“ No!” You said “ Lies! Plus you suck at lying.” They exclaimed teasing you.

This is how your day continued being constantly teased by your co-worker and checking up on your little sister. Before you knew it was the end of your shift. Just as you were about to leave your boss pulled you to the side. First, thanking you for your hard work then requesting you to work another shift for tomorrow since they’re low on staff. You tiredly agreed wishing him a goodnight as you went to get your sister. Helping her zip up her raincoat and sort her stuff back together you both walked back home. Glancing at any Tv screen to see if Wally was there. Sadly none of them displayed the yellow puppet all just a blank screen or some show. But soon enough you didn’t have anytime to see if he was on them because the rain had started to get heavier. You both rushed back hand in hand trying to watch your step as the rain drops flooded the streets.

Panting as you made your way up the stairs you finally reached your apartment door. Just as you got out your key the door had ever so slowly opened nothing but darkness was seen in the room through the creek. Someone must have broken in while you were gone. Your heart raced on what to do. You just wanted to lay down and go to sleep but no the universe just loves to fuck you over everyday. You looked down at your sister while she looked up at you with nothing but confusion and worry. You softly smiled at her and dropped her over at your neighbors apartment across from yours. Even asking them if they heard anyone going into your apartment which they replied no.

Now this is even more concerning. Did they take anything? Oh no what if they took all the money you’ve been saving up? What if they stole every ounce of clothing, money, or food you had. Sure it wasn’t that much but still!! Before leaving your neighbors house you unzipped your bag grabbing out your trusty old bat you used to use. Slowly opening the door trying to make it not creak as lid you went inside. You held your breath as your heart raced protesting. Walking through the empty darkness slowly creeping towards where you leave any money in case they had left or you just forgot to lock the door. Just as you opened the drawer the lights suddenly flickered on. Blinding you as you squinted only to feel long thin arms wrapping around you while a head rested onto your shoulder.

“ Hello my sweet-“ the familiar voice said as you punched the poor soul behind you cutting them off. Wait a minute my sweet? That what…oh shit.

“ Wally? Is that you?” you stuttered turning around as the tall figures head lied low cupping his now bleeding nose.

“ In the flesh. Literally I have flesh now.” He said looking up as he dusted his rainbow trousers off ignoring his bleeding nose now.

“ How-“ you questioned as he answered quickly ” It’s a tricky process buut I managed.”

He then gazed into your eyes with his own. It was odd but he really did resemble his puppet form in this now human one. His hair still in his signature swirl with his large black eyes peering down onto yours with admiration.

“ Tired hmm?” He asked as you nodded before he scooped you up.

This was going to be getting some used to. Now with his lanky tall figure being able to scoop you up and embrace you any moment. You had made fun of him being short once any now this is what you get great. Your tired mind wasn’t comprehending many many questions that should have been asked but right now you didn’t really care.

Tysm for reading hope your day is going well or gets better

Sincerely - Cup1sT3a💌

[the-s1lly-corner]

HI there, hate to bother you but i was wondering if you could do the amazing digital circus head canons for a gn! reader who acts a lot like ena

if you have never heard of it you can check on the ena wiki but i would really love if you did something like this so thanks

TADC x ENA type!GN!reader

typically i would do all the characters in one post, but its starting to get late and tumblr wont let me save half answered asks in my drafts for some reason TToTT so im gonna split the cast in half, if you want the rest of the characters you can send in a second ask so i can remember to do everyone else :0! also my apolocheese for any personality mistakes, i think i watched ena a long time ago but was confused/didnt watch the whole thing so uh uh!! relying on a character wiki for this (on that focuses on season 1 so uh uh, idk if that will impact anything) little bonus bonus incorporating enas color thing into this cuz uh we can say its digital world stuff ooo that gives me an oc idea; oc whos like the mayor from nightmare before christmas who has a spinny head/face thing that relates to their emotions

CAINE:

caines is going to be shorter because hes just your number one fan regardless of your personality, in fact he probably has a silly shirt with your face on it somewhere

will do everything in his power to make sure youre happy and content, and will do everything to cheer you up when you switch over to your sad side

takes you to wherever it is that he 'sleeps' when you get overwhelmed by stuff and keeps you there until both of you are sure that youll be okay and your blues are long gone

you and him easily match energies, sometimes he will even try to one up you with using fancy intricate words

POMNI:

writing pomnis part first but oh funny is it that pomni and ena have the same VA

anyways

absolutely loves you, but she is so so worried about stressing you out and switching to your 'sad form', tries to (often times unsuccessfully) cheer you up

honestly you both need a break, things in the circus are hectic and insane, and considering pomni just got here she is going to need your help to get used to things

not much to be said since i think pomni is another character i struggle to write

JAX:

initially teases you for how fast you switch up, its almost like gangle being more upbeat with her comedy mask and more sad when its broken

tones it down a little when you explain you cant really control it whereas gangles case is just her being more confident with the comedy mask (at least thats my hc)

sometimes give you weird looks when you use an unnecessarily long set of fancy words to describe something mundane

bro is fighting the urge to mimic it

surprisingly does the kind thing, he takes you off to the side when something stresses you out so you can have a minute to compose yourself

RAGATHA:

optimistic sweetheart meets ray of sunshine, you two are an unstoppable force of good and kind of rub off on some of the others

similar to jax when you get stressed out or upset about something, usually when its an in house adventure, she sweeps you to the side and helps calm you down. she probably knows some breathing techniques, i think

ignoring the fact they probably dont need to breathe but thats asides the poin

[gavisfanta]

hii i love ur story's sm☺️☺️

but i was wondering if you can do a instagram with gavi? with the story!!☺️☺️

INSTA FEED - GAVI

summary: you tried your hardest to hide it, but your dog gave it away

warnings: noneee

@yourinsta

Finally back in Barcelona 🫶🏻🫶🏻 missed my home

liked by random and 829,829 others.

random: i hope you enjoyed your spain roadtrip❤️❤️

random: youre so pretttyyyy

random: girly i love you but Colleen Hoover is not it.

random: i think it ends with us is good

random: i hope ill see you

random: where is that?

random: she said it in the caption, barcelona

random: no but where in barcelona

random: barceloneta i think

yourbestie: I MISS YOU

yourinsta: I MISS YOU TOO

random: so cuteee

-

@yourinsta

feliz dia de Saint Jordi!!!!! 💞💞

liked by yourbestie and 299,619 others.

random: that bear is so adorable😍

yourbestie: who's that hot chick in that first pic??? 😍😍😍

yourinsta: awww❤️

random: can we switch bodies?

random: frr

random: ouuu who are those gifts from...

random: 😍😍

random: youre so prettyyyy

random: her and gavi would actually fit together as a couple

random: I SEE IT I SEE IT

-

@yourinsta

do you guys think he will be mad at me??? 🫠

liked by random 508,729 and others.

yourbestie: yeah honey i dont know but that perfume costs 200 euros....

yourinsta: its okay... ill just tell him that it was an accident...😬😬😬

random: WHO IS HE?!??!?!?!

random: okay but her pics>>>

random: i wish i was you

random: im atill not giving up about my theory with her and Gavi

random: im with you

random: YOU. ARE. SO. PRETTY.

random: 😍😍😍

random: can you check the dm i sent you??

-

@yourinsta

< BCN 3

liked by pablogavi and 999,629 others.

random: love the fit girly

random: i was there yesterday

random: LOVE THE PICS

random: where is your jacket from??

random: THE FACT THAT GAVI LIKE THIS.

random: MY THEORY IS BECOMING THE TRUTH....

random: girl i get that you post gavi cause.....

random: im tired of hiding how fine he is

random: dont hide it. 🤷‍♀️

ferrantorres: 🤣

random: lmaoo what ferran??

-

@yourinsta

i love acting like a tourist and going into all the souvenir shops

liked by pablogavi and 729,829 others.

random: I LOVE BARCELONAAA

random: GAVI LIKED AGAIN!??!?!?!

random: you are so prettyy 😍😍

random: the tourist shops are the best lmao

ferrantorres: he said he likes the third pic 🤣🤣

random: who is he...?

random: HE?

random: The fact that I miss her being somewhere else cause her party posts were always so fun

random: ARE WE REALLY GONNA IGNORE GAVI'S COMMENT?????

pablogavi: 😍😍

random: AAAA

random: IM FREAKING OUT

-

@yourinsta

night time in bcn >

liked by pedri, pablogavi and 829,729 others.

random: camp nou at night tho>>

random: how did she even get in there at night?

random: maybe it was a matchday

random: but there was no game yesterday

random: its older then

random: i love living in barcelona

random: i was there in that pool it was so cool

random: the third pic is so quiet...

random: WHY DO PEDRI AND GAVI LIKE HER POSTS

random: where did you get the hoodie from??

random: youre so pretty in the first pic

-

@yourinsta

this past week was an absolute dream, now I'm back to studying 😖

liked by pablogavi, ferrantorres and 739,729 others.

random: i can imagine that the past week was a dream. the barca players also like my posts in my dreams.

random: LMAOOO

random: I'd die to have your hair

random: whats the dogs name??

random: love how she represents the girl aesthetic of studying while having starbucks

random: frrrr

random: i absolutely live for the makeup in the first pic

random: hair tutorial when??

random: orange is so your color

random: nahh its still red

random: i still remember when she was in portugal... that felt like yesterday but ut was like 6 weeks ago

random: can we swap lifes? just for one day? pls

-

@yourinsta

photo dump 🎀

liked by pablogavi, pedri and 1,012,829 others.

random: prettyyyy

pablogavi: buen coche 🤔 (nice car)

random: AAA

random: whats with the emoji tho...

random: how is she so lucky that barca players keep liking her posts???

random: first

random: GAVI DRIVES A CUPRA TOO. MY THEORY

random: shut up do you know how many people drive cupras?

random: yeah shes right

random: youre gorgeous. im serious.

random: hala madrid

-

@yourinsta

day at home 💞

liked by pablogavi, pedri and 1,082,992 others.

random: YOUR HAIR IS SO HEALTHY. HOW.

random: okay i love that dog, its official.

random: youre giving golden retriver

random: i adore your aesthetic fr

random: how do you manage to stay so organized

random: when is your next trip?

random: youre so prettyy

-

@yourinsta

what am i without watching sports??

liked by pablogavi and 992,829 others.

random: F1 ON TOP

pablogavi: 😍

random: hey gavi

yourbestie: What are you without sports in general???

random: TAKE ME WITH YOU

random: frr football and f1>>>

random: oh how i wish to be a wag

random: idk how people can be bored of watching sports

random: i love camp nou its so pretty

-

@pablogavi

liked by yourinsta, pedri and 2,829,729 others

yourinsta: ayy guapo *liked by creator

random: wait hear me out. isnt that yns dog?

random: Omg youre right

random: HES SO FINEEEE

random: since when does he have a dog???

random: cant wait for the game against Cádiz!!!!

random: maybe theyre just friends...?

ferrantorres: 🤣🤣

random: OMG HIII

random: FERRAN SNITCHING??

random: you focus on scoring goal first

random: 😍😍😍

random: THATS YNS DOG???

random: YESS AAAAA

random: oh my god theyre just hanging out, chill that doesnt mean that theyre dating...

-

@yourinsta

fine... yall little detectives figured it out...

liked by pablogavi and 2,018,662 others.

pablogavi: ❤️

pedri: finally!!! took long enough

ferrantorres: yall were so bad at hiding it from public

ferminlopez: they grow up so fast 😭😭

random: AAAAA

random: IM SCREAMING

random: THIS WAS SO UNEXPECTED

mikkykiemeney: welcome to the public wags 🫶🏻❤️

yourinsta: aaaa ❤️

hectorforr_: desearía serlo Y/n 😍😍 joder hermano te ves bien ( i wish i was yn, fuck brother you look good)

random: WHA

random: fort bro crazyyy

pablogavi: 💀

llamineyamal: mis padres 😍😍 (my parents)

random: lmaooo

random: THEYRE DATING???

jpcancelo: Por fin ya no nos molestará más jajaja 🤣🤣🤣 (finally he won't annoy us anymore)

pablogavi: 💀

aurorapaezg: 😍😍

random: aurora tell me is she good to gavi?

random: IM. DYING.

joaofelix14: @yourinsta tenemos que compartir ahora (we gotta share now)

yourinsta: PFFFF

random: HAHAHA