#is she going to turn out to be a superpower person too?

[zhivaoverdrive]

Filling the Void Breast Expansion and Butt Expansion via Saline Expander Implants.

But you've seen the image, too late.

Each image from the poster wall is available in full on the extras gallery, some with their own small stories.

Have fun.

----- As I pushed open the door, my eyes widened in horror. Lani lay sprawled across her bed, her body resembling a collection of medicine balls that had been inflated one too many times. Her breasts hung from her chest like overfilled water balloons, threatening to burst at any moment. 

The soft light cast by the lamp on her nightstand danced across her skin, highlighting every vein and crease as if trying to accentuate the sheer magnitude of her transformation. The implants themselves seemed to be straining against Lani's skin, like four enormous balloons about to burst at any moment.

Lani's eyes snapped towards mine, wide with surprise and shame. She looked guilty, her face flushed like a person who'd just been caught cheating. Her gaze darted around the room as if searching for a way to make this situation disappear, but the evidence was undeniable. It was like trying to hide a skyscraper behind a curtain – impossible.

I took in the scene: her already-enormous frame now straining against the seams of reality; empty saline solution bottles littering the room like discarded confetti; and Lani's body... altered, distended by the relentless stream of liquid she'd forced into it. The four orbs of saline inside her seemed to be straining against their containment, as if desperate to escape were it not for Lani's stretched skin holding on with all its might.

"It's not that big of a deal," she said, her voice laced with justification. "I'm fine. Just... just this little bit more..."

I took a deep breath before speaking. "Lani, I know we agreed monthly would be the limit," I reminded her gently.  "But you know how close you came to... complications. And yet here you are again, doing it without supervision."

Lani looked at me pleadingly, her eyes welling up with tears. "Please," she whispered, the air thickening with shame and desperation.

The shame and desperation, struggled to come to terms with being caught. AGAIN.

On one hand, I was impressed by her willingness to take control of her body and push the boundaries of what society considers "OK".

But I was also worried about how far she was taking things. Like, expanders... that's some next-level stuff.

And not just that - Lani had taken her body modification game to a whole new level by having expanders in her butt as well.

I couldn't help but wonder what kind of discomfort she must be going through with those things implanted in her backside. And yet...part of me couldn't help but admire her spirit.

I get that Lani wanted to change herself, but this was just crazy. "You're not even trying to hide what you're doing," I said, shaking my head in amazement. "You're trying to turn yourself into a human balloon or something!"

But as soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I had spoken too bluntly.

"You're using expanders like they're some kind of...I don't know, saline-filled superpower or something!" I said, trying to lighten my tone.

"I just need this one more time," she said quietly, her voice filled with reverence.  "I promise I'll slow down after this. It's not like..."

She trailed off, looking down at the floor as if embarrassed by her own words. But that did not last long.

Lani gazed up at the posters on her wall. Her gaze lingered on the statuesque figures, their bodies seemingly defying gravity itself - their breasts rose up from their chests like mountains, butts jutted out far behind them.

"Look at them," Lani said quietly, her voice filled with awe and longing. "They're doing it... Just look at them - so many people adore them, that one's been on TV!"

As Lani admired these perfect forms of femininity, the competing idea inside of her believed she was still the waifish girl she'd been years ago stewed. Trapped between two conflicting realities unable to be reconciled.

"And honestly, what's another litre of saline when you're already..."

I didn't push her for more. Another unnecessary question. A different tack was in order.

"Lani, baby," I said carefully,

"You've never removed ANY saline before. I'm not even exactly sure if we can. What if this is a one-way process without going back to the doctor..."

Her eyes dropped, and she nodded slowly. "I know, but what's the worst that could happen? You'll still l-" "Ah," I interrupted her, trying to sound more reassuring than concerned. "The weight of... well, let me ask you this: how much saline are we talking about here?"

Lani looked down at her chest, a sheepish expression spreading across her face. "I've got 10 litres in each boob.."

My eyes widened in shock. Ten litres per implant? That was... that was a lot of saline. A lot more than last time.

"And?" I prompted, trying to keep my tone light despite the gravity of the situation.

Lani faltered for a moment before she spoke up again. "And... um... well, I might have also exceeded 10 litres in each butt cheek."

My jaw dropped. She couldn't be serious. Could she?

"Lani," I said softly, trying to keep my tone gentle despite the shock and concern I was feeling. "You're telling me that you've got a total of 40,000cc saline forced in your body?"

Lani nodded sheepishly, her face flushing with embarrassment.

I glanced at Lani's ass and saw the telltale signs of strain: deep creases in her skin, fine lines tracing the contours of each implant, and an eerie sheen that hinted at stretchmarks. Her veins stood out like blue highways, pulsing with effort as they struggled to deliver oxygen to her skin.

"The weight of this much saline is crushing you," I said firmly. "You've already been struggling with everyday tasks for months now. You're going to continue to struggle even more as time goes on. Your body simply can't keep up."

Lani's gaze faltered as she tried to consider the consequences of her actions.

"What does the future hold?" I continued. "Don't even get me started on trying to cook dinner or do laundry. You're being short-sighted! What happens when you can't even get out of bed in the morning?"

The silence between us grew thick with unspoken understanding – a tacit agreement that more caution was needed, but also a recognition that we were both too afraid to seek help.

She nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving mine.

"You're right," she said quietly. "I'll need you".

[while-i-procrastinate]

Can I just say how happy I am that Mihyun and the meat shop lady are still friends!

[monimccoythings]

Like Father Like Daughter

I have so many WIPs from different fandoms and this Wolverine fic ideas just keep coming and coming... I appreciate so much the support I've been shown, I don't look at the notes because it shows in activity that is 99+ and I get anxious lol. Logan has a nasty temper but is really fun to write.

Living with an ill-tempered man like Logan wasn't always easy, but living with him and his variant's teenaged clone turned adopted daughter who had the exact same temper as him, was proving to be quite the challenge.

As anybody would expect, those two were constantly butting heads at everything, be it food, curfews, or, just as they were doing at this very moment, Laura's choices in fashion.

The girl had chosen some shorts and black leggings, with black sneakers, and a crop top that was way too short for an old fashioned man like Logan to approve, to hang out with some friends she had made at her new high school. Barely sparing a glance at her outfit, Logan had snapped at her to go back to her room and change into something more appropiate, which Laura took it as well as any teenage girl that had spent part of her earliest teen years dressing and doing what she pleased in the void would. And then the screaming match had begun.

"NO CHILD OF MINE IS GOING OUT DRESSED UP LIKE THAT."

"IT'S JUST A SHIRT, IT'S NOT A BIG DEAL."

You let out a quiet sigh. You knew daughters were supposed to rebel against their parents, but having two superpowered beings at each other's throats at all times wasn't the great idea the universe thought it was. You knew they loved each other deeply and would kill for each other, but sometimes they were way too much alike.

"Sweetie, listen to Daddy on this one, he just wants what's best for you."

How the fuck had Wade gotten in and embraced your husband's muscular arm without anyone noticing. With a low growl, Logan pushed him away. Laura did not seem too pleased with him either.

"FUCK OFF, YOU AREN'T MY MOM!"

Wade covered his mouth and let out a shocked gasp that honestly was worthy of an Oscar nomination. You quietly thanked him for his presence, maybe that would help relieve the tension in the room. Laura turned at you, imploringly.

"Tell him he's just overreacting. Please."

You sneakily looked at your husband, who seemed to be red with rage, his lips pulled back in a feral snarl that clearly was a display of dominance, knuckles pressed against the wooden table so tightly that you started to fear for the well being of the furniture. His muscles were so tense he looked like he was going to burst out of his shirt, by the way the veins in his neck were swelling.

You didn't want to disrespect his authority over his daughter, but you also didn't want to make Laura direct her hate at you; you loved that girl and her attitude as if she was your own child. It seemed they needed some consesus, and you guessed you'd have to be once again the bigger person here.

"Laura, your father is just worried about you. If you want to wear that top, then you'd have to put a jacket on. And we want you back home by eleven."

"But my friends-" She started to protest, but you quickly cut her off.

"Eleven and that's more than your father was willing to give you."

She bit her lip, considering her options. With a huff, she stomped back towards her room to get that jacket. She slammed the front door on the way back out, not even bothering to say goodbye. Teenagers.

The living room got quiet. Really quiet. You could only hear Wade munching on some popcorn he had gotten from God knows where. Logan was fuming, not at you of course, but at his unruly adoptive daughter's behavior. He stormed towards your shared bedroom and slammed the door close hard enough, it made the pictures on the wall tremble. You sighed.

Well that went well.

It wasn't until half an hour later that he cooled off and decided to come out. You were cleaning up some dishes while Wade sat on the couch watching some cartoons. It made you smile, it was like you had two children running around.

You felt your husband's stubble and nose nuzzle against the back of your neck, as he embraced you from behind, his massive hands covering the entire expanse of your fourth month pregnant belly. "Feeling better now?" You casually asked.

His teeth nipped at the skin on your neck leaving a burning feeling that only his tongue could soothe. "I don't know what to do with her, she seems to fight against everything I do or say." His deep rumbling voice sent shivers running down your spine.

"Deep down she knows you love her. And she loves you too, even if she is too 'cool' to admit it." He let out a bitter chuckle, massaging your belly while leaning his chin on your shoulder, his sideburns made you tickle.

"I just hope this little one doesn't give us that much trouble."

"Hey, however they come out, we will love them the same, because they are a part of our family." He kissed your cheek and you leaned back into his embrace.

"Yes, our family." You let out a laugh at the sudden extra weight on your backs. Looks like Wade had gotten tired of the tv and had decided to join you into your little embrace.

"Wade..." Logan started warningly, carefully prying his hands away from your belly.

*SNIKT*

[nocek]

Some Miguel and Gabriella doodles form last month :) I just hadn't had the motivation to turn them into proper drawings.

But the bottom two actually are part of my headcanons:

So starting with the happy one as in the one on the right:

I headcanon that Miguel actually ended in Gabriella's universe on accident and the multiversal travel didn't exist yet (to be more precise it was invented to look for Gabriella's father because Miguel didn't know that he was dead and just assumed they like switched places or something) and he explained the whole situation to Gabriella rightaway (because there is no way to be able to fit into another dude's life without a hitch even with I was bonked in the head recently excuse).

Gabriella was skeptical but decided to approach whole situation sitcom style. Dad was replaced by awkward but caring dude with superpowers - let's help him but also try the new boundaries. So she approached with hey dad runs twice a week and I ride the bike with him. I can show you our favorite route! And then proceeded to extend the route muuuuuch beyond what was humanly possible for her dad. And then beyond what was possible for her just out of curiosity if Miguel will ask to stop. Well he didn't so now after long ice cream break he needs to carry her home because she totally absolutely is beat and cannot cycle anymore (and also this way is more fun).

And the second separate depressing au headcanon that is not as tied to the picture but I guess I'll share it here:

While the Gabriella's universe was falling apart all the spiders there just grabbed as many civilians as possible and jumped through the portals. So Gabriella and couple dozen displaced people are alive at spiders hq and things are maybe better but also worse.

Since Gabriella is alive Miguel can't go sulk in the corner in his office. He needs to put on a front for her. Which most likely doubles the pressure that he already puts on himself.

Gabriella isn't an idiot and figures it out so she also tries to put on a front.

But to add a little spider whimsy and make the whole thing a bit happier - here comes Gwen.

Miguel was just as grumpy about letting her join spider society as was in the movie buuuuut Gabriela decided that Gwen being the slightly older girl with a little bit of alternative vibe is the coolest person ever and we will be best friends. And you are a ballerina!!!! I want to try ballet too!

Which in turn forced Miguel to be nice like to other Gabriella's friends and maybe be a bit more mindful and realize that Gwen needs more than place to stay and new friends and coworkers. She is too young to just jump into adulthood. She needs her father or better father figure.

And he tries to dump that on Peter B which doesn't work because Peter suffers form serious case of baby brain but also sees Gwen more like a equal adult and friend.

Besides the idea of Miguel trying to be nice and failing at because he approaches it form his experience with Gabriella standpoint while dealing with teenager is kinda fun and I like it.

[successfulgoddess333]

MY LONG AWAITED SUCCESS STORY PLUS RANT/YALL NEED THIS STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING AND READ

First things first

I’m tired of being nice

I have took time out of MY day to help you guys

EVERY DAY

I have given tips methods

Advice answered questions

Replied to countless amounts of DMs

Etc etc I’m not providing false hope here I AM trying to help you guys

I’m getting so many different suggestions and asks

Let me say this

STOP

from now on

No more questions

If it’s urgent

Like you really wanna know something

DM me

I WILL respond

No more questions asking how to enter the void

My account is literally talking about HOW TO ENTER THE VOID STATE

Are instructions not clear?????

Get off your butt and fucking do it!!!!

Stop procrastinating stop being lazy stop asking questions you spreads know the answers to

And for the love of God

STOP ASKING ME TO ENTER FOR YOU!!!!!!!!!

I’m doing what I can to help you all manifest

But it’s YOUR job to make it happen

Y’all used my kindness against me and it’s pissing me off I’m tired of people not even asking anymore

Just begging me

I AM NOT A MAGICIAN

I was literally YOU

not too long ago

I am a nice person but I am at my limits

Stop repeating questions

Look at my page for the answers you need

Stop asking me to enter for you

If it’s not happening

DM me for ADVICE

I used to be the kid that got asked by others to do their homework for them

If I didn’t put my foot down

Y’all were gonna drive me insane

Literally

I love y’all but stop depending on me

Just ask

For advice

But stop treating me like a Genie

And I manifested for someone and it doesn’t work

Then what

Am I a liar now???

Am I fake??

Like are you serious

Bruh I’m serious when I say

I’ve had enough

Read this story to see how YOU CAN ALSO

Transform your life

I literally went from

TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️

I went from slitting my own wrists and going in my closet trying to hang myself EVERY FUCKING NIGHT

I used to stare in the mirror

Crying about how my body looked

I used to go to school scared because I was getting abused by guys there and bullied by girls

All my friends turned their backs on me and I literally said

FUCK IT

I don’t deserve this fucking life so you know what I did????

I changed it

It’s so easy it’s insane

I too over complicated it

I too was desperate

But your desires are yours

They just are

Ignore them MF negative thoughts

Matter of a fact don’t even call it that

You are giving your “intrusive” thoughts power by saying they are negative

Don’t label them as intrusive thoughts

THEY DO NOT EXIST

THEY WILL NEVER MANIFEST

And I’m not just saying that it’s true

It’s soooo fucking true

By labeling them as “intrusive” or “negative” you’re giving them power

To take over and control your life

When this is not what you want

Don’t fear your own head

Bitch it’s YOUR BRAIN

It can’t NOT listen to you

Change your goddamn assumptions

You are a bad bitch you’re hot beautiful

You’re THAT bitch

Bad bitches don’t beg we make shit happen

Get off your cute ass and go get your dream fucking life

Bitch you can have it all

You can marry Shawn Mendez

Be the sexiest model on the planet (but you’re only 5’3) OK ANDDDDD

Marissa Rose is the first 4’11 runway model

You mean to tell me it’s not possible???

They have plus size models

Shirt models

Models with tig ol biddies

Models with tattoos models with piercings models with scars etc

ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE

You can get a call back from that job

Better yet fuck 9 to 5s

Bitch YOU ARE RICH

You are literally Jeff Bezos

Don’t manifest “small shit” cuz if you can get an apartment and a job

You can also manifest $100 million and 2500 square feet mansion

You can have superpowers

You can be a master manifestor

You can become a celebrity and overnight

You can meet your favorite celebrities at awards shows

You can sit next to Ice Spice at the Grammys

EVEN SHE MANIFESTED HER DREAM LIFE

There’s proof in her old tweets and in your interviews

YOU CAN HAVE HARRY STYLES TICKETS FOR WHENEVER HE DECIDES TO DROP AN ALBUM

YOU CAN BE THE NEXT BEYONCÉ

YOU CAN MEET OR EVEN PERFORM WITH TAYLOR SWIFT

YOU CAN HAVE ALL THE MONEY YOU WANT

YOU CAN SHIFT TO ANOTHER REALITY AND MEET MICHAEL JACKSON

YOU CAN HAVE THE SINGING VOICE OF AALIYAH OR MF MARIAH CAREY

YOU CAN MANIFEST THAT YOUR DOG NEVER DIED OR THAT

YOUR EX STILL MISSES YOU

KANYE WEST MANIFESTED KIM K

TOM HOLLAND MANIFESTED ZENDAYA

YOU MEAN TO TELL ME YOU CANT HAVE

MICHAEL B JORDAN WAITING ON YOU HAND AND FOOT????

YOU CAN ENTER THE VOID MANIFEST YOUR Sp

AND WAKE UP NEXT TO YOUR CRUSH

YOU CAN MANIFEST BEING IMMUNE TO BAD SHIT BEING A GODDESS BEING SO BEAUTIFUL THAT PEOPLE FORGET MEGAN FOX EXISTS

YOU CAN MANIFEST LOOKING LIKE MARILYN MONROE

OR MADISON BEER

YOU CAN MANIFEST TALENT

BITCH ITS ALL POSSIBLE

You OWN THIS SHIT THIS IS YOUR LIFE BOO

Go fucking get it!!!!!!!

SUCCESS STORY

I was tired of own shit so I used the method that I created

I already posted it

Go read it

Here’s what I manifested

1. SP

I manifested a girlfriend because I’m bisexual asf

And I created her on my phone

Just write if list of what she looks and acts like

I manifested my dream career

I manifested platonic SPs

As in friendships

Money

A strong intuition

More knowledge

A better self concept

Immunity

The ability to hypnotize with my eyes(OK I HAVENT TESTED THIS OUT BUT IM EXCITED TO)

Meeting a celebrity

Can’t say who but I manifested it for the future

I even got pets now!!! A puppy two kittens and two snakes!!

I manifested lots of cool talents

I improved my dancing!!!!!!

I was insecure about my voice

So I changed it

Deadass I sound kinda sexy now

I wanted a whispery ass voice😭😭

So I got oneeee

I also manifested a LOT of personal stuff that I won’t share

Unfortunately I’m SUPER protective of my soul and just overall self

And I’m not posting a face reveal

This might seem surprising to most

My passive aggressive behavior but this is literally how I am daily

I really am nice but y’all just make me ANXIOUS

But still

I love you darlings soooo much

Like for real

But please just pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Don’t make me your wish granter

Make your own wishes come true

If it’s cool with y’all

I’ll manifest tonight

That entering the void will be easy for you guys

But you HAVE to do it yourself I can only guide you

You got this babe

If you got offended it’s working

That means you needed this

Take this tough love and go use it for good

I better see some goddamn success stories this month or we gon fight

(Not literally that’s just my humor talking)

Love you bitches

Now go meditate before I appear under your bed tonight and yank yo shit

Love youuuu💗💗💗💗💗

[chosok-amo]

Sukuna that has a big fat crush on his lil bro Yuuji's upperclassmen friend that tutors him🤭💞

SHAPESHIFTED: RYOMEN SUKUNA

she was there, sitting beautifully and started filling the room, it was hard not to notice her glisten, when all the lights in the room— even the moon that peaks from the creek of the window darted like a spotlight on her, ‘your eyes might not be the color of the ocean but I get drown just by taking a secret glance, how do you do that? shapeshited and makes me fall in love with you?’

content warning: fluff, nothing else

sorry it takes me a lot of time to write this, I'm busy working on my thesis right now, and sorry I don't make exactly like your request but I hope you enjoy it 😊

THIS WAS FROM SUKUNA'S POV

UH OH, I'M FALLING IN LOVE

the moon is bright and the day is still young, i was just walking downstairs when i heard my brother's voice alongside a soft, feminine unfamiliar one. i kept my feet moving until i was able to see who the voice belonged to. she is sitting there with her small back facing me, body so tiny i'm afraid her friends had to lose her every time they were walking in the crowd. i keep on looking at her small frame until the brother of mine snaps me out of my own thought.

“sukuna.”

and just like that, she turned around, finally showing me how pretty someone could get with a honey voice like that. and suddenly, our eyes locked and if this is what people tell you about love at first sight i think they're having no idea what they were talking about. it doesn't make my head fuzzy and the world doesn't stop moving and the noise isn't running faded into the background like the movie show, but this? i feel hurt inside my chest like my heart alone wants to run and give it to her by itself.

she stands, showing me the biggest and the brightest someone could ever smile, it's beautiful, it's like a symbol of happiness, she looks happy, she looks like art even. and art was supposed to make you feel something, maybe that could explain why my heart is trembling. a quiet curiosity was planted into my chest, brain and I knew it was only a matter of time before she sunk beneath my bones, nurtured this deep-seated unfamiliarity into love so fierce, yet blithering, carefree and unconcerned, hopefully— that I would question if I had ever been in love before.

my hand becomes one with her, skin to skin as she takes my hand for her to hold— wishing it could stay longer after the void of nothingness hugging my hand back. she introduced herself to me but all I could hear was just the thunder underneath my flesh, underneath my ribs. yuji looking at me weirdly, doesn't get used to the way I reacted, i can feel his brown big eyes practically narrowing at me, but I choose not to pay him attention.

“she's going to tutor me, please don't do anything stupid or make too much noise,” he warned me. i flutter my eyes before catching a sight of him with his eyebrows up to his forehead. I rolled my eyes before waving my hand, and dismissed him off as if it meant nothing— well, It is, indeed. I'm a quiet person, unlike him, I'm not a menace to society. “yeah, yeah, whatever,” in boredom, i said to him and brought my feet to walk away from the living room to go to the kitchen.

i take a pack of cheese out of the fridge and slam it lightly on the counter. put pressure on the counter with my two palms before letting out a sigh. looking at the invisible living room, hoping my eyes suddenly had an x-ray superpower to take a glimpse of her again but to fail. “of course, what the fuck was I thinking?” a mumble under my breath could be heard. dramatically, I put my hand to my chest— hesitation felt in my blood. as I was feeling the thunder in my heart, I wail.

my knee abruptly turns into jelly, no longer having the ability to support my body as I slide down to the floor, back sticking to the wall of the counter. “what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck— what the fuck?!” I yell in whispered, finger pointing at my heart with narrowed eyes. “what the fuck is wrong with you?” I asked, hoping there was some machine error inside of me that's gonna be the cause of whatever was happening inside.

“you like her,” there's a whisper.

I laugh humourless, forcing myself. “yeah, bless her delusional heart,” I scoff while rolling my eyes. I do not like her, in fact, I despise her. her weirdly bright smile does not give me a whole damn zoo, her honeyed voice does not calm my nerves. she's not gonna be something I be thinking about for a whole week. she's just my brother's friend. just looking at her I can tell she's gonna be an annoying person and weird. “right, she must be a bitch,” I mumble, talking gibberish just so I can convince myself.

“she's beautiful, doesn't she?” that whisper again.

I went quiet for a moment, getting pulled by nostalgia back to a moment ago. my red eyes stared at nothingness dreamingly without I realized. the smile she gave kept replaying inside my head like a broken record, “yeah, she's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.” the whisper could be heard, over and over again, hypnotising me to keep thinking about her.

“you like her, don't you?”

“do I?”

the whispered whispering in my ear as I felt a hot wind clouding my ear. and that time I realized that it wasn't my head tricking me, that wasn't some demon or angel like you see in movies whispering to someone. “oh you sure do,” again with the whispering. quickly I snap my neck to the side only to find yuji with his ugly ass face close to me. “what the fuck— Yuji!” he laughed as I jumped in surprise.

he stands straight as he puts both hands inside his pocket. “you look stupid, what are you doing sitting there?” he asks, smiling knowingly while his eyebrows arise. I cleared my throat before shrugging my shoulder, “just chilling,” I mumbled. he just kept looking at me for a while before rolling his eyes. “man, you're so weird when you're in love, so fucking weird,” he sight and walk away. i stand in second, “what the fuck do you mean?” I asked, feeling offended obviously. he just waved his hands nonchalantly without looking back.

“uh oh, am I falling in love?”

OH NO, I'M FALLING IN LOVE

“is that blood?”

she looked up at me blankly, no thought behind those eyes, looking dumbfounded as she battled her eyelashes like she was trying to process the information. “y/n, is that blood?” I asked again. “no?” she answered with another question. I rolled my eyes, “that's not a question you were supposed to answer with another question,” I told her, seeing her white skirt got stained with something red. she pulled her skirt, showing me a quite big scar on her knee, “i fell,” she whimpered as if she was about to cry. her big doe eyes looking at me with quiver lips. I bit my lower lip, trying to contain myself from laughing and cooing at how cute she looked right now.

“wait here.”

I patted her head before going to the kitchen and coming back with a box of first aid kits in hand. I sit myself next to her and pull her closer by her under the knee. “you're so clumsy,” I mumble— treating her wounds. I took a glimpse of her before looking down at her knee. a light chuckle left me without I realized. there she is, eyes shut tightly, one hand covers her mouth while the other one knead with eyebrows narrowed— oh god, she's so cute.

“don't laugh,” she wailed, hitting my shoulder lightly.

again, I laugh, “sorry y/n, you're just too cute— alright, I'm done.”

after, I brought my face to look at her only to find her face changed into bright red as if all of her blood was rushing to her head. “are you okay?” I asked, worried if her wounds might be the cause of her state. “—your face is red, are you feeling hurt?” I asked again. my backhand touched her forehead, “you're burning, should we go to the doctor? I think yuji—”

“you shouldn't say something like that so casually,” she finally opened her mouth but her voice came out nearly whispering. I feel my forehead frown when the confusion consumes me. “huh? what?” she stared at me for a while, and I never knew that ‘for a while’ could bring so many things to my veins. they're doing it again, the hurt in my chest, the adrenaline rushing through my blood. my heart beating so fast it's literally banging on my flesh, so loud I'm afraid she can hear it.

she smiles, “I'm fine.”

I cleared my throat as I looked away for a second before pointing at her skirt. “go change your skirt, it's dirty. yuji might take a while to come home and I refuse to let you ride your stupid bike again after the stunt you pulled,” I said. she's open her mouth, about to protest before I look at her with a stern look, making her change her mind in a split second without me even realising. so without saying anything I went to my room and came back with a black shorts. “thanks,” she mumbled softly as her hand reached the shorts before going to the bathroom. I wait for her to change and sit in the living room, switching the tv on.

for a few minutes, I sat there in silence until she was slowly sitting back at the end of the sofa. my mind went blank with the tv noise as a background sound while pleasing her with a glance one to two— she looked straight to the tv but I know she watched nothing. pretty little hands fiddling with the fabric of my shorts that she's wearing. and maybe that's not gonna stay mine any longer since she looked better in it than me. would it be weird if I wanted her to keep the short? especially when I'm not her boyfriend.

“did yuji know you're here?” I asked, not very fond of the silence that filled the room, also trying not to corrupt my mind with something I shouldn't think about. “yeah, but he hasn't replied yet, but we made a plan a week ago, so yeah..” I nodded. just like that we flew back again to where we were before— silences.

we stay like that for a good minute until I hear soft giggles, making me turn my head to look at where the sound comes from— her. her eyes were already looking at me, “why do you keep looking at me?” she asked. I was stunned, mouth shut as I realized I never looked away from her. “you staring, am I that beautiful for you to keep your eyes on me?” she jokingly said, another fit of soft giggles leave her pretty mouth, making me smile in return. I kept looking for a while then nodded, “yeah, you're that beautiful,” I breathe. and just like that her smile quickly faded into the void and faced the other way. I feel giddy seeing her shy state and this time, my turn to giggle.

“are you shy, y/n?” I asked.

she quickly hid her face with the palms of her hands, looking away. I move closer, “are you shy, y/n?” I asked again, teasingly as I poked her shoulder. a muffled voice of squealing could be heard. she moved her shoulder as I kept on poking her. I hold her wrist and pull it out of her face only for her to stiffen her hands and giggle. “oh come on, let me see that beautiful face of yours,” I laughed a little. she shook her head and again, tried to turn away. I kept on pulling her hands, and the moment I successfully pulled her hands away, it was already too late to realize that our face was an inch away.

her cheeks were crimson red, plump lips were slightly open as her hot breath touched my cheeks. and again, everything starts to blur, noise muffled to the background. I force my lips to put on a tight line for a moment as I look into her eyes to her lips, suddenly having the urge to kiss her. it's not like I don't have the urge to kiss her every time for nearly two months, but this time? I feel like I'm gonna die and regret the way I live for the rest of my life if I don't feel the softness of her lips in mine.

“can I kiss you?” so I asked, whispering.

“yes,” she whispered back.

I never realized a single word can mean so much to me. who knows an agreement from someone can make my heart beat so fast but this time I'm not afraid if she heard the beating, I want her to hear the beating, I want her to know that my heart already belonged to her way before I have the right to, as if it was hers in the first place. my eyes widened after the second I realized, oh no, I'm falling in love.

OH, I'M FALLING IN LOVE

“are you there?” a soft voice from the other side asks.

I let out a sigh, unintentionally making a cloud of smoke in the air while I hugged my body with one hand while the other one pressed the tiny technology in my ear. “physically yes, mentally is debatable,” I told her. shivering got nailed in my body, caused by the cold weather. I chew my lips, hoping it starts to warm soon. soft smile printed on my lips after I hear angelic giggles from the other side, “oh please, don't be party pooper, I'll be there with you in a second,” she said.

I waited a moment before my body got slammed into the tree by something tiny and soft. a hand pulled my neck before the warmness touched my lips. I let out a relief breath as I made a circle around the waist of her. my eyes closed, following the way her lips moved on mine. “that's not fair, y/n, you can't corrupt me with something like that,” I complained after the kisses broke. she smiles, “but you love it.” I rolled my eyes in annoyance before smiling back at her.

she opened her bag and pulled out something pink. my eyebrows instantly lifted as I caught her eyes sparkling. “what is it?” I ask, cautiously. she wrapped my neck with the ‘something pink’ that turns out to be a scarf. “It's cold, you should wear something to keep you warm,” she said, still smiling. “but it's pink,” again, I complained. this time, it was her turn to raise her eyebrows. “yeah, and?” she asked, looking confused as if I said something stupid with the oblivion. “i know it is pink,” she chuckled.

“i don't want to wear it, it's pink. I mean, did you even look at me? the tattoo on my face? the red in my eyes?”

she became more confused, “it doesn't match my vibe,” I told her, only for her to roll her eyes. “oh please, you look cute,” she sang happily, fixing the scarf around my neck. “but I don't want to look cute, please take this off,” I argued while trying to take the scarf off. she slap my hand in return, “but I made this for you,” she pouting, eyes almost looking like a dog. I was stunned, eyes wide open with her beautiful reflection in my iris. “you made this?” she nodded, still pouting. I let out a sigh, “fine.” out of thin air, the sparkle that was before lost in her eyes now bolting back, brightening it before I even realised.

under the cold weather, those eyes and all the sparkle made me feel warm. I could wear anything pink, from head to toe, I could do anything just so I could get to see those eyes simmering with the warmth of happiness. her and those eyes, I'm willing to kiss the ground she walked to, each step, if it means her eyes would be on me.

“kuna, come on, walk faster!”

she looked behind her— me, smiling with her hand that was covered with a thick glove waving at me. “be careful, it's slippery,” I told her. she stopped for a moment to hold my hand and softly dragged me to the fun fair. I watched her frame from behind, eyeing the way her body moved, gracefully like art in motion. her cheeks blended with crimson pomegranates as if all of the splendour of winter bent to her will. people say everything was a reflection of lights, and maybe that could explain her, she was the combination of all the prettiest light that exists.

she's beautiful and adorable and warm and everything in between. the first time you meet someone you're not gonna notice the waves of their hair, but the first I meet her I notice each wave, the way she stands, and speak, and smiles, her face becomes something I'll be thinking about next week, and five months ago I don't even know she exists but now i don't know if I'll still exist if she's not here.

she's more beautiful than any flower, she's like gold at the end of a rainbow, she's like a light of sunshine beneath the thunderstorm. just like the old poem said, If I had told the sea about her, what I felt about her, it would have left its shores, its shells, its fish, and followed me. its would have been filled with curiosity about the girl who's been shaking the sky and sea, the cause of my religiously praying when I don't even believe in god.

how does she shapeshifted like this? she becomes something I admire. the things that I usually overlook now become something that I desire. how did she do that? how did she make me fall in love with her?

oh, I'm falling in love.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Can I get some steter with morally dubious Stiles?

You sure can! @kevaaronday made this list.

A Darkness Follows by havok2cat (9/9 | 41,994 | Explicit | Steter) Stiles serves his community service at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital. He's assigned to a mysterious patient and finds himself quickly becoming obsessed.

As most wrong theories are by PotatoYoghurt

(46/46 | 35,150 | Explicit | Stetopher) The world takes everything from Stiles.

Stiles decides to take it back.

Null & Void by skargasm (18/18 | 28,762 | Explicit | Steter) In a world full of the supernatural and superpowers, everyone eagerly awaits their 18th birthday to ‘receive’ their gift. On his 18th birthday, Stiles Stilinski comes into his powers and finds out in the most horrific way possible that his gift is more of a curse – one unguarded touch, and he absorbs both a person’s gift andtheir life-force. 

Determined to keep his friends and family safe, he moves away from his home and takes a job with the government, taking away the gifts of those who would abuse them. As one of the most powerful – and potentially dangerous – people in the world, Void feels completely alone. 

Peter Hale’s gift is incredibly prized – mainly because no one is allowed to openly discuss what their gift is. Working within the P.A.C.K. bureau, he keeps his family safe and does the world a service. No-one’s gift can touch him, and he is one of the very few who can tell what someone’s gift is from one simple touch. 

So what does he do with this ruthless but attractive new partner who refuses to let Peter touch him?

To Court a (Oblivious) Werewolf by StilesIsMySpiritAnimal (5/5 | 25,437 | Explicit | Steter) There was no mistaking that this was the Spark.

He walked with a lethal grace, hands in his pockets and head tilted down slightly. His entire body had a soft glow to it.

Three bodies moved in unison to flank him, and they walked the remaining distance to the pack.

As if sensing his perusal, the boy looked up, right at Peter, his whiskey-colored eyes flashing in the sun.

Oh. Peter briefly wondered if the young man hid his face for safety, or because every ‘wolf within ten miles would be looking to court him.

Perhaps by Triskuit (1/1 | 7,168 | Explicit | Steter) Stiles and Peter run into each other when attempting to kill the same people. They get together and go a-murderin'.

-----

“Should we be comparing lists or something?”

There was an amused snort. “Perhaps.”

They stood around awkwardly for a few moments and then Stiles went to get a closer look at the thoroughly shredded Body Formerly Known As Todd.

“You’re not going to ask?” the werewolf blurted.

There was surprise and incredulity in his voice. And was that a hint of disappointment? Stiles bet he had a whole spiel prepared. He smirked.

“About what? You’re a guy who turns into a wolf-bear creature. And? Do you have another trick up your sleeve? Some fascinating hobby?”

The werewolf erupted into a full-body laugh, mouth open and eyes sparkling — Stiles was close enough now to see that they were blue — and he was pleased to elicit such a response. He wanted to hear that sound again. 

Aconite is Forever by threedices (1/1 | 5,636 | Teen | Steter) Magic helps Stiles find his soulmate. Knowing Peter exists is a comfort after his mother's death.

While magic doesn't stop the Hale fire it allows Stiles to bring Peter back when he thinks sacrificing himself for Stiles is a good idea (the fool).

Too Good to be True by stellewrites (1/1 | 5,256 | Teen | Steter) “This is a big fucking job, Ali,” Stiles said tiredly as he looked over the blueprints for the banks. “I’ll be doing you more than a favour if I do this. It’s peak time for tourists, so that means that cops are going to be more alert than usual. We won’t have much time.” 

“So, you’re in?” She confirmed. 

“Yeah, I’m in,” he said

“Who the fuck actually robs a bank in Las Vegas?” Peter murmured, feeling hysterical when he saw the masked group spread around the bank. 

--- 

Peter's on holiday with his friends in Las Vegas when he gets caught up in a bank robbery. One of the robbers has really pretty eyes - not that Peter noticed…

To Captivate a Killer by Noxnthea (1/1 | 2,000 | Teen | Steter) “The problem is that I’m not sure whether I want to kill him or kiss him.”

There’s silence from the Sheriff’s end of the spell before his father says, “Really, Stiles?” 

Stiles has accepted a contract to assassinate the Hale prince. It’s not panning out quite like he expected.

Just Calm Down by SnakePit1995 (1/1 | 1,085 | Gen | Steter) Stiles putting wards on Peter's apartment was easily the best decision he ever made. They worked perfectly and saved them time and time again. The intent wards were an everlasting argument but Stiles was never going to take them down. 

OR

The intent wards don't let Peter into the apartment when he's angry and Stiles finds it endlessly entertaining.

[adrixivy]

I can imagine the Avengers playing UNO one day for game night and after that day, everyone is extremely petty, stingy, extremely aggressive or has an attitude to someone and it’s all because of something that happened that one day they decided to play UNO.

(I played UNO with my family earlier and I was constantly screaming. I got +16. SIXTEEN. So this was what inspired this post)

Clint, throwing dirty looks at Tony everytime Tony walks into the room: *glares and rolls eyes at Tony before looking away*

Tony, sighs exasperatedly: Is this because I plus 20 your ass that game night?

Clint, mocking him: iS tHiS becAuSE I pLUs 20 yOuR aSs- YES. YES IT IS.

Tony being Tony ‘Money is my superpower’ Stark: I bought your kids everything on their Amazon wishlist yesterday. I bought Ms Barton’s wishlist too. And your new trick arrows are restocked and some upgraded

Clint, smiling politely and in the kindest voice possible: Thank you very much, I’ll tell you Peter’s cards from the vent the next time we play UNO

Peter with his advanced hearing: MR BARTON NO!-

——————

Bucky purposely walks away from Steve everytime Steve is trying to go up to him for a kiss or hug or just be close to him (Yes I’m a stucky fan)

Steve sighs and wipes a hand down his face: Is this because I changed the color when you were on one card during game night?

Bucky nodded and dramatically said: You betrayed me-

Steve, screeching: IT’S JUST A GAME?!-

Bucky, screaming back: YOU DON’T LOVE ME-

Steve, dumbfounded because UNO is making his lover hate him: WHAT-

———————

Peter flips onto the ceiling whenever Tony enters the room, renames all of his protocols, purposefully gives Tony the wrong tools and messes up Tony’s clean set-up of tools that it drives Tony up the wall because he thinks Peter is going through some rebellious phase before he notices Peter being kind to literally everyone else except him

Tony, tired and stared at his kid hanging upside down as he plays Dress to Impress with Ned and MJ on HIS personal starkpad meant for his work: Get down from there, kid. I need the Starkpad.

Peter ignores him and he tries remembering what he did before he scoffs in disbelief as he realised what Peter is annoyed about

Tony: Is this because I kept skipping your turn during game night? I told you I didn’t have the colors and those skip cards were the colors I drawn!

Peter: I had ONE card but because you kept skipping my turn, MR BARTON WON! MR BARTON-

Tony, sputtering: IT’S JUST A GAME-

Peter, screaming back: IT’S UNO!-

Tony on the verge of tears: I’M SORRY DON’T HATE ME-

Peter immediately jumps down, puts the Starkpad away and hugs Tony. The two share a hug and Peter forgets everything that what Tony did to him in game night

——————

Natasha throws a dagger that just barely misses Steve and Clint everytime they enter the room. Steve is wondering where she keeps those daggers and Clint knows where but knows she won’t stop because she’s incredibly petty. Extremely so.

Clint: Nat, my no.1 friend, my sister from another mother, I swear you gotta stop this-

Steve: I really don’t appreciate those daggers being thrown-

Steve is immediately cut off as Clint shoots a look at Steve that says ‘You’re an idiot!”. Nat simply stares at them blankly and Clint immediately grabs Steve and yanks him down to take cover as Natasha pulls a gun out of nowhere and shoots where they previously stood

Clint, knew it was coming but is still afraid as the two just narrowly dodged the bullets: I’M SORRY WE KEPT CHANGING THE COLOR BUT IT WASN’T THAT DEEP-

Steve, panicking and worried for their lives: JUST BECAUSE OF UNO?-

Clint, can’t believe Steve is asking an obvious question: YES JUST BECAUSE OF THAT!

Steve: I TOLD YOU IT WAS A BAD IDEA-

Clint, the one who told Steve to mess with Nat together and is regretting he ever did and is genuinely sorry he made the reluctant Steve join him: I’M SORRY I DRAGGED YOU INTO THIS-

It took Natasha a few hours to calm down and it was just because Clint summoned Peter ‘Puppy’ Parker to calm her down. Nat still gives slight nasty looks but she isn’t so petty about it anymore which was an absolute relief for the two

—————

Sam is glaring at Peter everytime and Peter sticks his tongue out to annoy and piss Sam off. The two always had somewhat of a small beef but it amplified more after game night. Probably because Peter was purposely aiming to attack Sam by always adding plus cards when it’s Sam’s turn next. It sucked more for Sam when Peter actually won.

Sam, sending Redwing to shoot small nerf darts at Peter: Take that you midget-

Peter, huffing and shot a web at Redwing which immediately made the small robotic bird stuck onto the ceiling: *sticks tongue out before giggling*

Peter laughs harder when he heard Sam screaming ‘MY CHILD’ with his advanced hearing

——————

Wanda and Peter teamed up during UNO and sneaked some cards to each other when one needed a certain color. And the entire team is always dumbstruck whenever one of the two kept winning for 5 rounds straight, not knowing Wanda is reading their minds on what color they have and their secret way of communicating

Wanda wins three times in a row and her and Peter is giggling. The whole team is confused af because how are they doing this-

(They totally forgot about Wanda’s abilities during the game. UNO is a serious game where all your remaining braincells is used on the game and nothing else matters)

——————

Rhodey joins for one game and is immediately done because his cards somehow stack all the way to 30 cards. He just needed a blue and he kept drawing cards until FINALLY he pulled a blue and Tony’s turn was next so imagine how furious he was when Tony placed a blue reverse and out of his 30 cards, he didn’t have a SINGLE reverse or power card. He tweaks and the whole team is laughing at him as he grumbles and complains about how they’re ganging up on him and UNO is a completely unfair game. Tony kept laughing till there was tears. He always found it fun to annoy tf out of Rhodey.

Rhodey, fuming as he fails to get one blue card: WHO THE HELL SHUFFLED THIS CARDS-

The whole room erupts into laughter at the sight

——————

Thor is the only one that doesn’t seem affected by the game and isn’t petty at all because there’s probably worse games in Asgard and he had dealt with way more petty people when it comes to games. Honestly, he probably imagined it as a game with Loki. Loki was always petty with games and everytime Thor won, he deals with attitude from Loki for weeks. UNO was basically child play for him.

——————

Bruce doesn’t ever participate in UNO and the team believes its for the best because if he joins, the big guy will come out and play for him instead (He’s smashing everything. Not as in the game. Literal smashing)

It’s literally impossible to not get mad at people in UNO.

Best believe UNO is a game that’s banned from game night forever after that day as the amount of attitude and danger in the tower increases by tenfold.

[spdrvyn]

im begging for miguel x reader where he’s sick/tired/woke up from a nightmare and is in desperate need of shooting. so she takes care of him - pure domestic contentment- grooming him/washing/shaving/brushing hair/towel drying/changing clothes (and socks 🥺)/feeding him - doing everything to relax him and make him feel loved

solace in your sweetness

summary: in the deep trenches of the night, miguel wakes up due to night terrors and you're very deadset on comforting him. no matter how many times he denies you that.

tags: hurt/comfort. very sweet and fluffy. reader isn't a spider-person. fem!reader.

notes: i love this request so so much, i have been ITCHING to do it. thank you so much for requesting, i hope you enjoy reading this one!

Miguel didn't really have nightmares when he was younger. On the occasion that Gabe would bother him to watch a scary movie, there would be instances where he had them, but it wasn't a regular occurence. How naïve was he when he thought that he'd be able to leave those behind in his youth?

It started simple, he would be in the barren, empty streets of Nueva York. Before he would slowly watch every thing dissolve around him, glitch by glitch, pixel by pixel, unable to do anything but to just stand there, before he fell into the abyss and woke up.

The darkest part of his mind had always managed to make the scenario more horrifying, another time it was zombies, another time it was zombies again, but of only Gabriella. There was even a version where he was being chased by the other dead version of himself. He consulted many articles, read and bought a lot of books, and even tried meditating, but none of it worked so he just decided to live with it for a while. It wasn't like they happened every night, no big deal.

Though, it was a big deal to you. Which was his true fear, he didn't want you to fawn over something so trivial. He didn't want you to go out of your way to take care of him, despite how much it would fill the big, gaping hole in his heart.

So when he jolts awake from another night terror, he keeps himself as quiet as possible. He slowly looked over to the side of your bed, relieved to see that you were still in a peaceful sleep. He shifts silently and keeps his footsteps light as he makes his way over to the kitchen for some tea. The calming, minty aroma sweeped his senses, but it'd be better to work right now instead of relax.

He went back to the bedroom, setting the teacup down on the bedside before pulling out a small tablet. He winced as it opened, the brightness of it hurting his eyes even with glasses on. After lowering it, he immediately goes to rifle through his files.

That is until he felt the weight of your head on his shoulders, you looked up at him with a frown. "You're working."

"I am," Miguel spoke like he was caught with a hand in the cookie jar. As embarrassed as he was, it was too late. You should probably be going back to sleep, he remembered that you also had work early tomorrow. "I just got thirsty, go back to sleep, cariño."

A bald-faced lie, would you believe it or would you not? Your brows furrowed and your pout deepened, it made Miguel's palms sweat. Moments like these forced him to think if you really did have superpowers, there were too many instances where it seemed like you read his mind word for word.

"Why are you lying to me, Miguel?" Shock. It was his face, wasn't it? "Did you have any another nightmare? Why didn't you wake me up?"

Miguel's pride had shattered, you were too good at this. A little more and you'd be unmasking every single villain in the city. "You need to be up early, I just didn't want to ruin your beauty sleep." He closed his files and turned off his tablet, this was his fate now.

You all but groaned at his remark, kicking the bedsheets off of your body before stamping out of the bedroom. "Where are you-"

"Stay there, don't move an inch." He didn't want to incur God's wrath, so he obeys. Crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the pillows, his smell picked up on the scent of food being freshly cooked. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but by the lord, it smelled delicious.

Miguel was left there to wait for a while, this sort of reminded him of his younger days too, granted a lot more blissful. There were times when he was younger where Gabe had nightmares too, he'd come knocking on Miguel's door, asking if he could stay there for a while or if he could play video games with him.

To which Miguel would begrudgingly agree, but he normally tried to keep Gabe as uninterested in whatever they were doing as possible so that he could fall asleep already. This usually resulted in him falling asleep then Miguel having to sleep on the couch, but it was whatever. I mean, he only stopped doing that at the young age of 11.

So now being the one taken care of, it made Miguel feel like there was an outside force tipping the scales. After being a caretaker, one way or another, his whole life, having you step in and take him for a breather was like seeing a fish head on a lion's body.

You came back soon enough with a plate and spoon in hand, it was made clear to Miguel exactly what you were cooking. Tomato sauce with meatballs, you diced a small bit of the beef with the spoon before scooping some soup up, bringing it close to his mouth. "Ahhh,"

"I can eat on my—"

"Ahhhhh."

"For shock's sake—" he quickly took a bite, his eyes lit up as he swallowed. "It's good."

You smiled knowingly, finally allowing him to feed himself as you handed him the plate. "I know," then your expression hardened. "I'd like to talk to you about what you dreamt about, if that's okay with you." Miguel sighed, reaching over to the bedside to take a long sip of his tea.

His heart told him that it was perfectly fine for you to know about what was troubling him for so long now, but his mind, his rationale, told him to shut his trap about anything that could cause you any sort of worry or distress. When he doesn't respond to you after another moment, you lean in closer.

"Miguel, I'm always going to worry about you." You whispered, "That's just how I am, but it's because I love you. I love you so much that I can feel how much you're hurting even when you're trying to hide it from me."

"I love you too," he closed the gap to press a kiss to the crease on your forehead, you released a short breath. "I just- I don't know how to say it, I guess."

You placed a hand on his chest, "I can put the pieces together, I just want you to get this off your chest." He wished he had the ability to deny you, you're his weakness, especially when you bat your eyelashes and look at him so sweetly like you have all the love in the world to give.

He tells you as much as he can about his dream, it's all a mess. There were many parts that he wished he could just go back and erase, he didn't even want to go through with this idea in the first place. But you were so... understanding of him, it felt creepy. Not creepy, that wasn't the right word, but it was unsettling.

Being comforted by someone else always made Miguel feel like the other person had a 'holier than thou' attitude, that or he was horribly pitied to the point where he didn't want to keep opening up anymore. You carried none of those qualities, you simply nodded, listened in pure silence, but you'd chime in with some remarks every now and again. He doesn't know how he got so lucky with you.

You gave him some advice. Miguel's experiences were gut-wrenching which resulted to his night terrors, but you could share the sentiment. To some degree, at least. The advice was to just talk about it, letting that feeling build over time and dreading the next time you fall asleep would result to more casualties in the long run. And that if he had no other people to turn to, you were the first on his roster (granted he'd talk to you first anyway, but that's besides the point).

After putting away his empty plate, you joined him in bed again, it's probably still very late into the night, only three hours until you get up for work, but you didn't mind as long as you got to spend it with Miguel. However he wishes to.

The feeling of yours lips on his forehead, face nuzzled into his hair while your fingers drew shapes into his back.

The way he wrapped his arms around your hips, slotting one of his legs in between yours, and the sound of your heartbeat.

He falls into a blissful sleep, knowing you will protect him from the horrors that lurk in the shadows. For once in his life, Miguel has been taken care of and he's so glad that it's you.

[sweetsweetjellybean]

A night out with friends turns into a surprise welcome home party for the man who broke your heart, Eddie Munson.

Masterlist Listen to Scar Tissue Here

What to expect: Second Chance Romance set in 2012 Chicago, with flashbacks at the beginning of each chapter.  Eddie and Steve are in their 30s. Fem!Reader is given a pet name from each of the guys. No other name mentioned. No use of Y/N. No physical description. Reader does have a bit of personality, as I find it nearly impossible to keep her blank for such a long fic. You may find yourself at times making choices that you wouldn't normally make, but I hope you can put that aside and enjoy the ride. Sensitive Content. 18+ Guaranteed happy ending. This is my love letter to Eddie Munson.

WC:5162. Beta'd by @superblysubpar

“Have a good day,” your mother calls out as you shut the front door to the gray clapboard-sided home that your parents had fallen in love with the moment they laid eyes on it. You hadn’t even gotten past the front steps before she appears in the doorway, pulling her purple terry-cloth robe tighter around her shoulders as she calls you back. “You don’t have to come right home after school,” she tells you, pressing a few folded bills into your hand, “Go out with your friends. Have some fun.”

“Thanks, Mom.” You muster up a smile, shoving the bills into the front pocket of your Levi's, certain they will end up in the ceramic pink elephant bank that sits atop your dresser, just like the money she gave you last week. She watches you walk down the steps, giving you a wave before she turns away, shutting the door behind her. 

She tries her best, but she doesn't understand that friendships in the seventh grade aren't made as easily as they were in kindergarten, and you can't tell her that in the six weeks you've been enrolled at Hawkins Middle School, not a soul has spoken to you unless asked to by a teacher. 

This was the life that your parents had chosen, a career that demanded constant relocation and upheaval. "It's an adventure," they'd tell you as your things were being packed into boxes. But the older you got, it felt less like an adventure and more like a test. A test to prove yourself over and over. There’s a phrase your mom has uttered so often over the years, that it's surprising it's not embroidered on the throw pillows. Bloom where you're planted. But here, in this town, you're only a weed in the garden.

Hawkins isn't any worse or better than any of the other ten places you've lived in the last seven years, but these kids have been together since birth and aren't eager to welcome newcomers into the flock. Pouring your efforts into being confident and friendly, projecting a cool and unbothered facade, the constant exposure has left you empty. The mask is too heavy, and you’ve been wearing it far too long. If this were one of the comics you kept in the box under your bed, you'd be discovering your superpower–Invisibility. They don't see you here, and maybe they never would. 

The edges of folded bills in your pocket press into the meat of your thigh. Adding them to your total should give you enough for the new Elastica CD.  With a bit of luck, you might be able to talk your dad into driving you to Tower Records in Indianapolis this weekend. A few houses away, the battered front door of a small yellow cape opens with a click and thud, drawing your attention. The house was more run-down than the others on this street. The grass was left to grow a little longer before being mowed, and a few nights a week, you could hear the yelling coming from inside before seeing the slow flash of lights of a cruiser parked in front. 

A boy with curly shoulder-length hair bounds out from inside the house, slinging on his worn backpack as he hits the sidewalk.

Right on time this morning. 

The scuff of your white Doc Martens falls in step with the crunch of his black Converse hitting the pavement. The chain running from his back pocket to his hip sways with his movements. It’s more of a determined bounce than a walk. Your eyes stay trained on the frayed holes of his Jansport, corners of textbooks and papers pushing through. You keep waiting for physics to kick in and the thing to give way entirely.

“Quit following me.” 

His voice floats over his shoulder, shattering the quiet of the morning. Your head swivels from side to side, looking for whoever he is speaking to. His body turns until he’s walking backward, both hands gripping the straps of his backpack, casting his expectant brown eyes on you. 

“Me?” You ask, touching your chipped painted fingernails to your chest.

“You’ve been following me for weeks, and it’s creepy.���

“I’m not following you,” you say incredulously, “We’re just going to the same place.”

“Well, walk on the other side of the street or something,” he says, turning back around, continuing on his way like he assumes you’ll comply.

“No.” 

Your defiance comes out flat and solid, drawing a line, sick of him and this whole town.

“Yes,” the word comes back without a glance, utterly unbothered by your show of determination.

“No,” you repeat louder, your eyebrows pulling together in a scowl, “If you don’t like it, you walk over there.”

“I was here first.”

“Seriously?” The anger in your chest turns to heat, rising up your neck and settling in your face. Your mouth opens, ready to unleash the venom sitting on the tip of your tongue when he stops walking.

“Might as well walk beside me then.”

Surprise melts the words in your mouth as your feet carry you forward until you’re close enough to see the freckles covering his nose. His eyes stay forward as his stride lines up with yours, moving forward at a more relaxed pace. A light breeze rustles the leaves of the Maples lining the street. The sound of your footsteps is interrupted by the occasional passing car. 

“You’re in seventh, right? You got Schnider?” He asks, his eyes darting to your face.

“Yeah.” You nod, looking down at your boots.

"Bad luck. She's a real bitch. I had her last year."

Answering with a shrug, you risk a look back at him. Long eyelashes framing big doe eyes, a sweet face he tries to hide with a hard shell. He wears a mask, too. 

Your brain’s on overload for the rest of the day—thoughts of the boy coloring away the hours like a secret, overanalyzing every bit of your interaction. When the shrill sound of the final bell rings, you join the current of students, gathering your belongings and exiting the building in a wave.

The fresh air is a welcome escape from the stuffy classroom as you cross behind the school past the football field, heading toward the path through the woods where the boy is lingering just beyond the gate, digging through his pack but coming up with nothing like maybe he had been waiting. Without a word, he falls into step beside you. When you look at him, this time, he meets your eyes. The sunlight flickers through the swaying leaves as your footsteps resonate through the trees as you continue together.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," his voice cuts the quiet air when you reach the front steps of his house, his tone revealing a hint of uncertainty. 

"I'll be headed the same way," you answer.

He turns away from you, pausing with his foot on the top step, looking up at his house before looking back at you. 

"I'm Eddie, by the way," he offers, his cheeks pinking at the vulnerability his words carry.

"I know," you respond, a small smile gracing your lips as you continue home.

"Shit. Shit. Shit," you mutter, tucking your phone into your clutch and bolting up the marble steps to the second floor of the Kimpton Grey Hotel. Composing yourself as you pass through the lobby and open the double doors into Vol.39. The bar exudes timeless elegance with its dim, warm light shining on the dark-wood accents. Vintage jazz playing through hidden speakers, sounding like smoke and liquor. Everything here is steeped in leather, old money, and sophistication. It's no surprise that Nancy chose it. 

"You're late," Nancy says flatly, no amusement in the blue eyes framed by the blunt cut of her black, sleek hair as she glances at her watch with disapproval.

"Sorry." You slide into the open seat on the tufted couch across from her, adjusting the material of your dark emerald midi skirt so the slit wouldn't be showing off too much thigh, "There was traffic." It definitely wasn’t the extra half hour you spent with your feet up on your desk at Stax listening to the new release from Band of Horses.

"This is Chicago. There's always traffic," she counters, keeping her voice low enough that it doesn't travel past the lit bookshelves lined with leather-bound encyclopedias framing the seating area that your friends are currently occupying. "That's why I gave you a time a week ago. So you could plan ahead."

"She’s in a mood," Argyle says from the corner of his mouth, his hair falling around him like a curtain as he leans closer from the velvet upholstered club chair beside you. 

"Where's Steve?" Nancy demands, setting down her crystal tumbler on the gray marble table in the center of the space.

"He's not here?" you ask, scanning the bar. "It was Robin’s turn to watch him."

"Me?" Robin exhales from the other end of the couch she shares with Nancy.

"You're his best friend," you point out with a quirk of your brow.

"Yeah, but you're his–"

"I don't know why I bother to organize nights out for all of us if no one is going to be on time," Nancy cuts off Robin, huffing as she crosses her slender arms over her chest.

"It will be fine, Nance," Johnathan reassures, coming back from the bar carrying a flight of martinis he sets down in the center of the table. "Just relax. Everyone's going to be here in plenty of time." He takes the seat beside her, comforting her with his arm around her shoulder. 

Nancy and Johnathan have been on again-off again since she left Hawkins for school in Boston. Rekindling their relationship when she moved to Chicago and accepted a position at Spectrum Media, where she still works as their vice-president of content strategy. 

"Plenty of time for what?" You ask, leaning forward to choose a martini, picking the Astoria with a knot of lemon. 

"There's a mystery guest," Robin says, wriggling her brows and hooking her thumb towards Nancy. “Full of surprises, isn't she?”

"Where's Flora tonight?" You ask Robin, noticing she is without an escort. 

"Flora?" She asks, picking up a drink for herself, "That was over a week ago." She dismisses her with a wave of the hand before running it through her wavy blonde streaked locks, "Sadly, she left for a goat herding commune in Sacramento. I've been seeing someone new, a painter named Taylor. She's on exhibit at Magnolia. Her florals are really dreamy." She bites an olive off the end of her toothpick, sighing. 

Smiling around the lip of your glass, you shake your head. Robin works as an exhibit coordinator for Magnolia Gallery in Wicker Park, falling in and out of love with artists as quickly as she sells their pieces. You give her credit, she's having fun. 

"Did you text him?" Nancy asks, her lips twisting with impatience. The tense clench of her jaw has you setting down your drink and reaching for your clutch with no arguments. "Do you know how hard it was to get this reservation?"

"Then why are we here?" Argyle complains, gesturing around the room while he slumps back in his chair, swirling the amber liquid in his glass with the other. "You know I own like six bars, right? No reservations required."

"But then you'd be working," Nancy explains, as Argyle smoothes out his handlebar mustache.

"I'm always working, babe," Argyle says with a smirk, looking the part of a restaurateur and music promoter in his shiny flat-front trousers and short-sleeved silk shirt. 

Argyle is a new friend - meaning not from Hawkins. The California transplant, whose family owns a chain of successful pizza restaurants, has breathed new life into the Chicago music scene. Booking up-and-coming acts as well as big names into his bars and venues all across the city. He's a good friend to have, especially in your line of work–a music journalist for Stax the city's premiere music, arts, and culture magazine.

“He’s on his way,” you inform them, setting your phone face down on the table before settling back on the couch.

“On his way or leaving now?” Nancy shakes her head, knowing with Steve it’s probably the latter. “Why didn’t you ride with him?” She asks, turning toward Jonathan.

“I wasn’t in the office today. I was on a shoot,” he says, pulling his arm away from her and setting his drink down harder than necessary, his patience with her at an end. 

Jonathan, like you and Steve, works for the conglomerate Second City Media. Nancy likes to think that she permits the three of you to work for her competitor, but Steve had already gotten his foot in the door, securing himself an entry-level position at Metro Sports division before she was even out of grad school. Jonathan had been doing alright freelancing as a photographer, but when Nancy started at Spectrum, Second City recognized their competitor would wind up with an edge and hired him on as full-time staff. Everyone knows it's better for their relationship not to be working in the same place, especially with Nancy as his boss.

“Give us some clues about this mystery guest,” Robin interjects to lower the temperature between the couple, which is ready to boil over.

"Okay, I'm here." Steve comes from behind you, his voice alerting you to his arrival before you see him. His tie is already missing, the first three buttons of his starched shirt undone beneath his midnight blue suit, and his hair tousled from a day of running his hands through.

"Really, Steve? You couldn't be on time just this once?" Nancy scolds him, rolling her eyes.

"Meeting ran late. You know how it is," he leans down to kiss her cheek,"Or maybe you don't. I heard things are a bit slow over there at Spectrum," he teases, earning a smirk from Johnathan. 

Steve worked his way up from the sports division to chief content officer for Second City Media. The position puts him just shy of the power Nancy holds at Spectrum, fueling the pair's competitive and ambitious nature until their bickering often drives everyone else crazy.

"Steve," Robin draws his attention before Nancy gets the chance to respond, "About tomorrow–"

"Just a minute, Robin. I haven't gotten to kiss my beautiful wife hello." He steps over Argyle's legs and gives the man a quick handshake in greeting before sitting next to you on the sofa.

"I'm not your wife yet, handsome," you tell him as his strong hands cup your cheeks, tipping your head up toward him. 

"But it sounds good, doesn't it?" He asks before soft lips close over yours, his thumb pressing on your chin, asking for access to deepen the kiss beyond the line that's appropriate in front of company. 

"Niiiice," Argyle hums as the others snicker. Steve takes a hand off your cheek, holding it in front of you to block some of their views as his mouth moves hotly over yours. 

"God, you two are sickening," Nancy's remark is probably accompanied by an eye roll, but you're too occupied to notice as you tighten your grip on the front of Steve's shirt, drawing him nearer.

Four of his fingers curl down, giving Nance a one-fingered message as he continues to kiss you until he's had his fill. Breaking away with a gentle peck. "How was your day today, Ace? Did you write me a Pulitzer?" 

"You ask me that every day."

Despite teasing you, he wouldn't be surprised if you had what it takes. That's how much he believes in you. He takes your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips to place a kiss next to the glittering diamond he put on your hand a little over two years ago. 

"Excuse you." Robin climbs over Argyle's legs that are still stretched out in front of him, taking up all the space between the chairs and the table, and walks over to the couch, squeezing her way onto the sofa between you and Steve, "Best friend privileges." She winks before launching into a conversation about the next exhibit she's putting together.

"You two crazy kids set a date yet?" Argyle asks at a volume higher than you'd prefer. Raising your index finger to your lips, eyebrows drawing together as your eyes flick over to Steve.

"I'm just making sure my invite didn't get lost in the mail," he says, sipping his drink. "I love weddings, man—all those tiny little versions of regular-sized food. Maybe I should open a restaurant like that, where everything is tiny. Tiny little kebabs and tiki drinks with tiny little umbrellas. I don't know what's taking you so long. You need to make an honest man out of him." His voice grows louder at the end of his sentence, earning him another look from you, a distraction that diverts Steve's attention from his conversation.

The waitress chooses that moment to appear, saving you from another conversation about setting a wedding date. It's not that you don't want to marry him–you do. Someday. Decisiveness has never been your strong suit, along with dressing up in big puffy dresses that look like frosting and being on display for everyone you have ever known and their plus ones. 

While Steve squints down at the drink menu, fondness warms you like the opening notes of your favorite song. Reaching across Robin, you tap his chest. He looks over at you as he pulls a pair of glasses from his breast pocket and slides them on his nose.

Your lips move without sound–I love you.

You too, he mouths back. His mossy eyes softening as he smiles just for you. 

You're happy. Why change a thing?

“I’ll have an old-fashioned. Top shelf. Please,” Steve tells the waitress after she had gone around taking orders for small plates to share and more cocktails from the others. “Another Martini?” He raises his eyebrows at you.

“Yes, please. An Astoria,” you tell her as she finishes scribbling everything down on her pad and heads off toward the bar to put in your orders. 

“The ladies?” You tip your head at Robin, who nods, getting up to follow you. Steve squeezes your hand as you walk by as he continues his conversation with Nancy about the effectiveness of paywalls on digital content.

“God, she’s in rare form,” Robin comments as you enter the empty ladies' room, each of you closing yourself into a stall.

“Are she and Jonathan fighting again?” You ask once you’ve finished up and moved to the sink to wash your hands. The echo of your voices bouncing off the black and white hexagon tiles.

“When aren’t they fighting?” She pulls a few paper towels from the machine bolted to the wall and drys her hands. “It’s like foreplay for them at this point.”

You laugh, checking under your eyes for make-up smears. “Any ideas about this mystery guest?”

“No idea.” She tugs the brass handle of the door open, and you follow her back into the bar. “Maybe her brother?” 

“That would be nice,” you say, your boot heels tapping on the dark chevron floors, “He just got married, right?”

“So young, practically still a baby,” she tuts, her head shaking from side to side.

“Robin, he’s not that-”

Robin's hand clamps onto your forearm, a squeal escaping her mouth as excitement radiates through her. She bounces on her toes, leaving you in her wake. Whoever elicited such a reaction is being blocked by Steve and Jonathan. When she gracefully maneuvers past them, you catch a fleeting glimpse of dark curls before the two men shift back into place, obscuring your view once more. The clinking of glasses and chatter from the other patrons swells in your ears. Your feet carry you forward, curiosity resonating like the reverb of a guitar. Steve feels you coming up behind him and shifts to the side. Without warning, rich chocolate eyes are locked onto yours. Eyes you haven’t seen in eleven years when he left you a mixtape instead of a goodbye. The eyes of the man that shattered your heart into so many pieces, all the edges are still sharp. 

“Hey, doll.”

The breath trapped in your lungs forms a suffocating bubble, its dull, aching pressure stifling any movement in or out, causing your body to lock in protest. You're tugged forward, unable to fight it, until your body collides with his. The faint but familiar scent of him embraces you, lingering beneath the spicy notes of expensive cologne. Triggering a flood of a hundred painful memories, like songs you’ve overplayed and can’t bear to hear again. They jar your instincts into overriding the shock, compelling you to push him away. Eddie's solid frame absorbs the force. To your relief, the others haven't noticed as you retreat to your seat. Your trembling hand raises your martini to your lips, taking larger swallows than you normally would, but nothing with this situation is normal. 

"Desperate times," you mutter under your breath, tipping back your glass. By the time everyone has settled back into their seats, your martini glass stands drained, the lingering taste of its contents  bittersweet on your tongue.

Steve directs the waitress to bring another drink for you and a double Mescal for Eddie. The others' voices are a distant buzz in your ears, but their words don't breach the barrier of your thoughts. The chords playing in your mind are more discernible now. Their lyrics printed onto the faded photographs of a boy that you struggle to reconcile as the man before you. He's older, but you are too. His long hair is much shorter, the dark curls a richer brown pushed away from his face. A few lines grace the corners of his eyes and forehead–a reminder of the life he's lived without you. 

Steve's comforting hand wraps around your shoulders while the other finds a home sliding between the soft skin where your legs are crossed, exposed by the high slit of your skirt. Eddie's eyes are on you, his stare focused on Steve's big hand covering half your thigh. Your left hand moves on top of Steve's, adjusting to make sure the sparkling rock on your finger gleams with brilliance in the soft, ambient light.

"Well, this is a blast from the past," Robin notes, her voice full of whimsy as she dangles her cocktail glass between two fingers, swaying it gently like a pendulum.

"Aren't you all glad I forced you to come out?" Nancy quips, much more relaxed now that her plan has come to fruition.

"You did good, love," Johnathan murmurs. His fingers tangling with hers before giving her a quick peck. 

"Absolutely. I wouldn't have wanted to miss this," Steve agrees, "How long has it been, dude? Three, four years?"

"Yeah, I think that was the last time you were in L.A." Eddie scratches at his chin, covered with just enough scruff to almost be a beard. 

Steve keeps in touch with Eddie? Had he told you when you hadn't been paying attention to him, your mind wandering with the words you would write for other people's songs?

"Now, I know that I told you only old friends," Nancy says, angling herself towards the plaid upholstered chair that Eddie occupies. "But Argyle knows all the local talent, and I thought he'd be a good connection to have since you're moving here."

"What?" You ask, as if a sudden vacuum has just sucked the air from the room.

"You're moving here?" Robin's eyes light up with excitement at the prospect of all her friends in the same city. She was the original connection that brought you together all those years ago. 

"When you say here. You mean Hawkins, right? You're moving back to Hawkins," you clarify.

"No. I mean here. I'm moving to Chicago," Eddie says, leaning back into his chair, his long legs spread in his tailored black suit, the black v-neck underneath giving off a laid-back California vibe. "I told those corporate studio fucks I was done. I'm opening my own place to record music that's actually good, not just the kind that will sell. I'm surprised you don't know all this, doll. Isn't it supposed to be your job or something?"

“Fu–”

"Why Chicago?" Jonathan asks, cutting you off before you let loose a very appropriate response to his question, "Why not stay in L.A. or New York. Aren't there music scenes bigger than here?"

Eddie tips his head to the side, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. "You know, L.A.'s lost its charm for me. Too many fake people made out of plastic. And, well, Wayne's not getting any younger. Thought it's about time to be closer, you know?"

“You'd be much closer in Hawkins. Bet you could find a place downtown real cheap. You should go look there.” You cross your arms over your chest, drawing a line in the sand. 

“Hawkins doesn’t really scream rock ‘n’ roll, and I already got a place, but thanks,” he says, unconcerned as ever by your tone.

“Look at you two,” Robin says, clapping her hands, “Just like old times, back to your usual banter." Her mischievous grin widens, "Remember when she had that massive crush on you, Eddie? You’d stroll into Musicland during our shift, and she’d follow you around with those big heart eyes.”

Your ears ring as heat rushes up to your neck to your cheeks,the whole world spinning. Eddie looks down, swirling the remnants of gold liquid in his crystal-cut glass.

“You’re exaggerating, Robin,” you sputter, reaching for your drink, hiding behind the lip of the glass, “We were just friends. And it couldn’t have been too major. I don’t even remember it.”

“Oh, come on,” she protests, “Everybody knew.”

"I didn't," Steve's voice cuts through her teasing, leaving an awkward stillness in its wake. The distant sounds of high-pitched laughter and the faint scrape of utensils against plates fill the void. Your friends exchange uncomfortable glances, even though there was no malice in his tone.

“Hey, it’s no big deal, though,” his smile puts everyone at ease. “Right, Ace?” His head dips, brushing your lips in confirmation. You nod as he continues, “Robin, remember when we both went on dates with the same girl. What was her name? Brenda.” His fingers snap with the recollection.

“That’s right, Brenda! Brenda Mackenzie!” Robin laughs and begins to regale the group with the story.

When you lift your eyes, Eddie’s stare remains fixed on you, amusement replaced with an intensity you can’t read. An unfinished sentence or lyric. Words hanging between you like a question that you can't answer—one that you don’t want to.

“I’m going for another drink,” you say to Steve, picking up your empty glass. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” He asks, brows drawing together.

“No, I’m okay,” you tell him with a plastered-on smile, “You want anything?”

He shakes his head no. “I let my car service go early. I’ll drive us home in your car.”

With gentle fingers, you sweep aside a stray lock of hair that's draped across his forehead, planting a tender kiss on his lips before making your way to the bar. 

There is a soft creak of the leather as you seat yourself on a high stool in front of the polished wood bar. A bartender with an easy smile takes your order and leaves, giving you a much needed moment alone. Your lungs expand and contract without releasing any tension. You study your reflection in the mirror behind the rows of brightly lit bottles. If you could rewind the tape to a few hours ago, you'd have happily stayed in your office. Calling Nancy tomorrow to grovel for forgiveness for messing up her plans. But you can’t and the song plays on. It’s always the music that hurts the worst.

You release an audible sigh, your breath escaping through parted lips, as he settles onto the stool beside you. With a casual tap of his rings against the bar, he signals for the bartender, raising a single finger, his tongue peeks out, grazing his bottom lip as he gestures toward his empty glass.

"What’s the matter, doll? You really that unhappy to see me?" Eddie drawls, a half-smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"It’s been eleven years, Eddie. Sorry I’m not organizing a parade." You settle back into your seat, glancing around as if you're bored.

The bartender lowers his eyes as they deliver your drinks and wisely retreats to the far end of the establishment.

"I didn’t come here to fight," Eddie replies, his tone softening. He shifts his weight slightly on the stool, one arm resting casually on the counter, the glint of a gold chain around his neck catching the dim light.

"Then why are you here?" Your eyes narrow as your fingers trace the condensation on the side of the full glass.

"A fresh start. To build something of my own." He looks at you with determination, his dark eyes reflecting the soft glow of the bar lights.

"Then build it somewhere else," you respond curtly, your words laced with frustration. You pick up your drink and down half of it in one go, the chilled liquid leaving a slight burn as it slides down your throat. Setting the glass back down, you turn to leave.

He stops you with a gentle hand wrapping around your wrist, his touch causing your pulse to quicken beneath his fingertips. "There are some things I want to say to you. Let me take you to lunch unless Harrington has got you on too short of a leash."

You pull your wrist back, the feel of his touch lingering like smoke in the air. "Whatever you have to say has waited this long, try again in another decade. Unless you're dying."

"Would it make a difference if I was?" He meets your gaze with amusement playing on his lips.

"Let me think about it… nope." Your reply is quick and sharp, meant to cut.

"I know you're mad–" 

"No. Mad would imply some kind of emotional attachment. What I feel is indifference. In case you don't know the definition, that means nothing at all." Your voice stays cool and detached as you hop off the stool. "It's a big city, Eddie. There's no reason we have to see each other again." 

"We'll have to see about that," he smirks. 

"Have a nice life," you say a final goodbye to your past and turn away, walking in the direction of Steve when he stops you with one more question.

"Did you listen to it? The tape, did you ever listen?" 

The lie comes without hesitation. 

“No.”

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Read Song 2. here

AN: I hope you had as much fun reading this as I did writing it. If you have a song that you think Eddie would have recorded on the mixtape send it to me in an ask and it might be included. Anything before 2001. I'd love to hear from you. Comments and Reblogs are always appreciated.

[messenger-of-babel]

Green With Infatuation

Summary: Kyle hopes with all his heart that you like him back after rumors begin floating around. (Kyle Rayner x reader)

Word Count: 1.5K

Notes: Kyle just being a love sap (I know he's a more fleshed out character than that but sometimes I want to curse his romance).

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Kyle Rayner was many things.

He was a green lantern, a defender of Earth. He had carried the white lantern mantle for a while as well, until he tried to resurrect the Blue Lantern Corp. He was a friend to many, and when he felt like it, a pain in Hal Jordan's side (even though the other man took it in good mirth). However, nothing was a strong as what he knew himself to be at the core: A man head over heels for you.

From the first time he had seen you, he couldn't help but be captivated. The way that you smiled at him made him feel like he held up the sun, your eyes crinkling at the corners. He didn't often come by the Justice League headquarters, mostly just when Hal or John put a request in for extra backup. However, he found himself going back repeatedly when he wasn't needed, pacing through the halls just for a chance of seeing you again.

You were a secretary hired by the Batman himself, keeping things orderly and neat to the eyes of the public. He'd come to get coffee with Hal, looking through the glass wall of the second floor to the reception you manned. He'd watch how day after day you dealt with angry members of the public or crazed fans trying to get past you. Not that they could, everything beyond a certain point was access restricted so they wouldn't be able to do so much as call the elevator. With a sigh and a calm smoothing of your shirt you'd click the call button under your desk, security coming to whisk the person annoying you away.

He also saw you at some of the work functions, little get togethers that Superman held to try and encourage a team environment. You were invited to those too but seemed wildly out of place among all of the superpowered (or in the Bat's case, heavily armed) figures in the room. Since Kyle had been dropping by more and more frequently for months now, they invited him along. Every time they didn't, he asked to come along with Hal.

He yearned to talk to you, yet there was a pit of worry clawing at his gut. He wished he could take off the mask and talk to you normally, like you were both casual civilians bumping into each other on the street. He had debated that exact scenario multiple times, but he didn't want to be a stalker. If you two ever did end up together, he didn't want to have the foundations of the relationship be a lie. That wouldn’t be fair to you.

So, he watched from a distance, studying the way you laughed, the way you smiled, the way you held yourself. Catching sight of Diana coming towards him, he nodded his head in polite greeting. The Amazonian returned the gesture, drink in hand as she leans on the wall next to him. "Rayner," she greets quietly, lips quirking into a grin. "I've been seeing you a lot more at these kinds of things. Don't tell me you're actually starting to enjoy them?" she teases. he shrugs his shoulders, smiling back.

"It's not like the corps are gonna throw a Christmas party anytime soon, I'll take what I can get." he chuckles, raising his glass to hers in a toast. She clinks her own cup against his, and they both take a sip in silence. Automatically his eyes seek you out again, picking you out of the crowd as you talk to Superman. Diana's eyes follow his.

"Have you met our secretary yet?" she asks, curious. He shakes his head, throat feeling dry.

"No, I don’t think I have." he replies, trying to control the thudding of his pulse. She clicks her teeth at his answer, humming lightly.

"They're a civilian that helps us out. Batman hired them to try and manage PR, you know, when people think we aren't doing anything. They help keep those tabloids from running rampant, and they do a pretty good job of it." Kyle turns to look at her, eyebrow raised.

"Doesn't that make them a target?" he asks. "If they're a civilian at the front desk of the Justice League, isn't there enemies of you all that would love to get the chance to take a free hit?"

Diana shrugs in response. "There was at the start, and truthfully it was quite scary." she says. "But our enemies realised rather quickly that to be a mistake. There's always someone at the headquarters, and they just better hope that it isn't Batman's shift." She jokes, waving her hand. "Besides, everyone figured out pretty quick that they've got a guard dog watching 24/7. No one's coming to get them knowing that."

He huffs out a laugh, grin gracing his lips into a smile. "Who's that? Don't tell me it’s the Bat, I won't believe you."

Diana laughs, shaking her head. "No, it's not Batman." she says, eyes sparkling as she smiles. "I thought you would have known."

"Why?"

"Because he's a lantern." she says matter of factly, pushing off the wall as waving as she heads back into the small crowd. His heart thuds in his chest, world slowing down around him momentarily. Did she know about how he felt? rushed around his mind, making his hands twitch nervously. He excuses himself politely, wondering just how often he had to have been caught staring for Diana to put something like that together.

As he heads for the bathroom to wash his face, he fails to notice that you've since stopped your conversation with Superman, instead conversing with the Flash and Hal. If he had paid attention just a touch closer, he would have seen the way you stood a little closer to Hal than usual, and the respectful hand that snaked around your waist to sit on your hip.

Since the night of the party, Kyle found himself inextricably coming back to the Justice League base, day after day. Just for a chance to talk to you, a chance to see you, for your hands to accidentally brush against one another when you go to get water from the cooler. You'd give him a smile and a thank you each time, his heart softening after each one. He couldn’t help the daydream of what it would feel like to have you in his arms, and to wake up with you beside him. What your face would look like as he made your favourite meal after a long day of work or flying you up to the tallest building in the city so he could see the lights reflected in your eyes. Hearing the passing chatter of others did nothing to quell his racing heart either.

The rumours that floated around that you were getting close to a Green Lantern made his heart leap from his chest, hands tingling with excitement and blood rushing to his head. When there was any tearoom chatter that you were dating a Lantern, he brushed it off. He hadn't been that forward, had he?

He tried to push past it, smiling and striking up conversation with you a bit more. His lips longed to ask you questions about what the two of you were. He had just seen it as friends, but did you see it differently? Did you want to be with him even a fraction of the way that he wanted to be with you?

When you mention your respect for the work that the Lantern's did, giving him a genuine thanks, he swore that the sun came out in a halo behind you. Of course he played it off as well as he always did, lovesick smile pulling his lips back and dark hair flopping over his eyes as he laughs and tells you not to worry about it. Every compliment you give him, every time you talk about how much you liked a certain lantern in particular made his chest pound. His throat felt tight, brain racing at the way that you brought it up so casually.

Was this your way of signalling your interest in him? Was he being too dense?

Hope fluttered weakling in his chest each time, making him giddy. When he saw you with Hal, he waved politely at the two of you, carrying on his business. He so desperately wanted to say that if you wanted to get to know him better, that you could just ask him, not Hal. He didn't bite and he didn't have any intention of being rude to you. He chalked it up to you just being scared, a nervousness that he could relate to all too well.

That's why when he sees the two of you leaving one evening, he can only sigh dreamily from the sidelines. So in love and heart fluttering with hope he can barely register the arm Hal has thrown around your neck, or the fact that it's his jacket covering your shoulders. He doesn't take note of the way you kiss Hal's cheek rounding the corner, or the way his coworker smirks and leans down to whisper something in your ear.

Kyle Rayner was a man well and truly in enraptured, with eyes that were lovestruck and hopeful.

Even if that hope was a false one.

[darling-i-read-it]

Convenience and Desire

Johnny Cage x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.3k 

Warnings: heavy allusions to smut (eventual smut basically but i got lazy)

Author’s Note: i main kitana cause she’s powerful and beautiful and a good leader and intelligent. But beside her i play johnny because he’s hot and dumb and i love him with my whole heart. 

Summary: You and Johnny work together often and go to blow off some steam. 

Song: unironically listened to hey baby by pitbull while writing this. feel like johnny would be proud

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif) (can't wait to play this little guy right here even though dilf johnny has my entire soul)

Johnny Cage’s smile was infectious. The way it curved was practically a trademark. It was shiny like a cartoon, almost too good to be real. He tossed it at oncomers, at girls who even half looked his ways, at people who could potentially elevate his status, at DJ’s who played songs he liked. 

It was annoying. 

You stood beside him, not sure how you had gotten caught up with him. Raiden had assured you that you were both some of Earthrealms best fighters, even if there was a bit of a personality shift. You weren’t sure how one ‘saving the world’ mission had turned into two, which turned into three. Eventually someone decided you worked well together and you were constantly shoved into the same space. When had convenience become necessity? 

Johnny smiled at Liu Kang, who returned it with a gentle gaze. Why couldn’t you have been paired together with someone like Liu? He could forever pine after Kitana and you would work well together. 

“Are you even listening?” You were broken from your thoughts by Kung Lao. His voice cut through your annoyance, making you snap out of it. 

“Yes. Yeah, sorry.” 

“Geez and usually I’m the one who doesn’t know how to listen.” Johnny nudged you. You couldn’t even muster an eye roll. Your smile is distracting Johnny. Even the thought made you gag. When had convenience become desire? 

“Thank you for your help,” you finally said, ignoring Johnny. “We couldn’t have done it without you. Your assistance is always greatly appreciated.” 

“We could have done it without you but that would’ve taken too long,” Johnny quipped. You ignored him. Liu smiled gently and nodded once. 

“It’s always a pleasure to work with you Y/N. Are you both heading back home after this?” You nodded, finally glancing at Johnny. 

“We should. I have to report back to Raiden on all of this and I’m sure you two have lives to get on with. Plus, Johnny has an early bedtime.” He snorted. 

“I’m glad you were able to reach us in time. Please don’t hesitate to call if you need anything else,” Kung Lao said. His voice had more of an edge to it. You knew Kung Lao less well than you knew Liu Kang. You tended to stray from the vastly magical aspects of earth realms defenders. “Do you read him a bedtime story too?” he quipped. 

“You all are acting like I didn’t help out there,” Johnny argued. He took his sunglasses off, revealing his eyes. He cleared his throat, like he was going to say something fancy. “Personally, I plan to celebrate our win. I know I’m going to drag her with me, you guys wanna come?” 

“Where are you going?”

“Dunno. Bars. Clubs. Wherever there’s drinks, music and ladies.” You closed your eyes hard and shook your head. You would have put your fingers to your temple if you wanted to be any more stereotypical and feed into Johnny’s cartoonish personality. 

“Probably not the best idea for a bunch of people with superpowers to get drunk,” Liu commented. You snorted and the tension of the fight officially dissipated. There was quiet laughter coming from the two in front of you, usually on the heroic stoic side. 

“Just us two then!” 

“Who says I’m coming?” you questioned. He rolled his eyes, gesturing for you two to head back home. You had the ability to conjure portals to any place you knew of. It came in handy when getting out of sticky situations, from which there always were some with Johnny. 

“We should bar hop in Ireland,” he suggested. 

“I’ll see you guys around,” you finally said. They nodded, ghosts of smiles on their faces. You turned around and Johnny stepped aside, allowing you to lift your hands. You had no interest in going to Ireland, where you were fairly sure it was early morning anyway. Instead you opened the portal to a place Johnny knew well; the streets of Hollywood. 

“Fuck yeah!” he exclaimed. “You’re the best babe.” You rolled your eyes and let him walk in ahead of you. Liu Kang and Kung Lao watched as you entered your own portal and then it closed shut behind you, leaving only a faint singe in its wake. 

“Are they together?” Kung Lao asked. Liu narrowed his eyes and shrugged. 

“I’m actually not sure.” 

“I didn’t think they were but I kind of think they might be.” 

“Yeah no, I could definitely see it.”

“Maybe we should have gone clubbing with them.” 

“Could’ve been educational.” 

Thankfully for Johnny, most of his fighting clothes could double as clubbing clothes. As he emerged from your portal he was in the thick of LA foot traffic and he fit right in. You on the other hand looked a little out of place with your padded armor and knives at your side. Though thankfully, most people seemed too drunk to care. 

“I’ll come pick you up at 4am?” you questioned. He shook his head. 

“Oh c’mon,” he said. He walked up to you and he had to get close because you could barely hear him over all the commotion. “Loosen up.” You looked in his eyes that were usually shaded by his sunglasses. It was a nice change of place to see that movie star complexion up close and not covered in blood. Though you’d be lying if you said he didn’t look good after a fight. 

“Just for a little bit.” 

“That’s the spirit.” His voice was low and sultry. If he knew how to do anything it was to seduce a woman and you knew that. You knew Johnny Cage better than most. He gestured for you to follow him through the crowd. “I know this place like the back of my hand. I used to live down here after auditions.” 

“How long were you auditioning unsuccessfully?” you teased. 

“Not as long as most.” You walked closely behind him. People were rushing by, wearing barely any clothing, laughing with their friends. You admired their carefree nature. Johnny’s shiny jacket fit in perfectly in the sequined crowd. You pushed yourself against him when others tried to get between you and he made no snarky comment like you expected. 

Finally he made a sharp turn. You looked up at the name of the place but you only saw long loopy bright letters. You half thought he had brought you to a strip club when he got to the door. You noticed the line that wrapped around the corner. 

“Johnny, there’s a line,” you said. 

“They know me.” 

You rolled your eyes. Always with that mentality. He approached the bouncer. 

“Hey,” he exclaimed, enunciating the y. “Mark, right? How’s the wife?” You expected the angry answer that always came after Johnny asked about someone's wife. 

“Hey man!” the bouncer said, giving him one of those bro handshakes you could never understand. “Where you been?” 

“Not doing many movies,” Johnny admitted. “Too busy saving the world and whatnot.” 

“That’s cool, that’s cool. Go on in man, it’s nice to see you.” You tried to suppress your surprise. You started to walk forward but the bouncer stopped you before you could. 

“She’s with me.” 

“A little different than your usual crowd huh Johnny?” 

“She’s better than them,” he said and it even sounded like he meant it. The bouncer's gaze followed you as you walked past. 

You emerged in the club. Clearly exclusive but large. There were two floors and the one you were on was filled with staggering people. Music blasted. You couldn’t locate the speakers but they had to be close with how aggressive they were on your ear drums. You stuck close to Johnny as he weaved through, saying hi to people as he passed. 

Your place had always been the fight. This was clearly Johnny’s place. 

He turned back to you. 

“Pretty cool huh?” 

“Not bad Cage. Not bad.” He smiled back at you. He approached the bar area. It was a clear table that was glowing from the inside. He found an easy place to order and he did it for both of you. He had gone with you to a bar or two. He knew your tastes. 

Drinks came quickly. He put it on his tab. 

He leaned his back against the table, handing you your glass. You took it. 

“So this is your world?” 

“Yes ma’am. Thoughts? Concerns? Comments?” You looked around. People were high or drunk or happy. You had left the war and blood outside. For now, there was only every form of ecstasy that man could come up with. 

“I can understand why you like it.” 

“And…” 

“And I like it. Is that what you wanna hear?” You took a sip of your drink. He took a drink of his as well, narrowing his eyes on you. You and Johnny had spent so much time together on the field. Usually the occasional drink was limited to both of you being exhausted. You suddenly felt like you had just woken up rejuvenated. 

“That is what I wanted to hear. Thank you.” The pulse of the club felt aggressive. They were playing some shitty Pitbull song that everyone got excited to hear. “You ever wonder why Raiden set us up together?”

“In the working capacity? Yeah, I do.” 

“Got any working theories?” 

“You needed a babysitter and I’m patient.” 

“I wouldn’t say that.” Your lips turned into a smile. His movie star grin had returned, the one that looked so easy to kiss. “Eyes are up here sweetheart.” You met his gaze. He was starring. 

“Wanna dance Cage?” 

“Thought you’d never ask.” You took off your jacket and tossed it on the bar table. You had replacements lining the walls. With it off it revealed your arms and the tightly woven fighting armor you kept. It was thinner than it should be but you didn’t need the protection. Johnny watched your back as you walked to the dance floor. You took your hair out of its tight updo that was keeping it out of your face. It fell and you brushed your hands through it, smoothing it out. 

The lighting was lower there. People’s bodies were melding together, kissing but not knowing whose lips were on the other end. You didn’t even bother looking around. The music that had been pounding in your head since you walked in was now against your chest. Johnny was swaying and you didn’t even notice you were too. He put his hands on your hips and you didn’t stop him. You put your arms over his shoulders, straightening them out so that your fingers were clasped together. Your torsos were flush, glued to each other. 

The tension of the day's battle loosened in your shoulders. You were bruised but not broken. You were safe, here, with Johnny. In the middle of the dance floor without a thought in your head other than his eyes. You wished he had left his jacket behind as well but you knew he was too materialistic for that. Your smile looked drunken but your head was clear. 

When had convenience become need? 

Johnny pushed you closer. Now your bodies were together, dancing together, a sly smile on his face. You brought your hands down, against his chest and then around his torso, beneath his jacket where he wasn’t wearing a shirt. It was his problem he never seemed to wear armor to a fight. 

He had goosebumps. You smirked. When you looked at his face you noticed his eyes had traveled south from your lips. 

“Eyes are up here Cage,” you teased. He snapped back up. 

“You wanna be real classic and go to the bathroom?” he questioned. You rolled your eyes. He pressed you even closer to him, if that were at all possible. 

“What, you don’t have your own hotel room upstairs or something?” His movie star grin came in full force. “Raiden’s gonna kill us.”

“Raiden’s gonna kill you. He knows I make bad decisions.” His head dipped, slipping his lips onto yours. You were actually taken aback. His lips tasted like chapstick and beer. You put your palms flat against his back and then scrunched your hands so that your nails dug into his skin. 

It hadn’t occurred to you until then that Johnny was nearly indestructible. The thought was alluring. 

His lips left yours. You had stopped dancing to kiss him. The music seemed to muffle. 

“That okay?” he whispered. 

“Perfect.” 

“Good. Been wanting to do it for a minute.” You grabbed his arm and turned back to the crowd. He pouted as his hands left your body. You dragged him through the crowd, weaving through the other people having the time of their lives. “Bathrooms the other way.” 

You finally came to a space that wasn’t completely filled with people. You stopped abruptly and Johnny ran into you. You lifted your hands in a formation he knew well. He didn’t even try to hide the smirk when the portal opened revealing his own room. He walked in before you and you followed, leaving only a soot behind. 

[caxyanalysis]

Thinking about how Homelander is actually so fucking tragic.

Raised to be the symbol of patriotism. Won the superpower lottery. Durable enough that a nuclear bomb wouldn't kill him, fast enough that nothing can outpace him, full freedom from gravity because of flight, laser vision that he can control the strength of to such a fine degree that he could cook popcorn or cauterize your brain in half and it's not even hard for him to do.

All of this, together, make him a god among men.

And it's so.

Fucking.

Boring.

And it's tragic, too.

It is.

I know, I know, "he's a fascist!!!" I get it, and you're right.

But look at what he's been through.

He was raised in a lab. No parents besides the scientists that studied him to figure out what he could and couldn't survive, what would and wouldn't hurt him, what he was capable of and how he could be useful.

At every turn, he was denied human connection in any meaningful way. His father was never in the picture, his mother was dead, he existed solely as a test subject, and as soon as he was old enough to be on TV, they wheeled him out like a shiny new toy and said "Look! It's the embodiment of America! The peak of human evolution!"

He has never, EVER known anything except two concepts: Fear and Blind Adoration.

The people who love him don't love HIM, they love the idea he represents. The people who know him fear him with all they have.

Spoilers for The Boys below

He finally meets someone who doesn't fear him, and claims to love him, and it's Stillwell. She doesn't fear him. But he doesn't realize the reason she doesn't fear him is because she thinks she has him under control. A little mommy-play here, a little milk there, and he's docile. She thinks she has him in her pocket.

But then she slips up. And out comes the truth. She's never loved him. Ever. She has always, always hated him, always been afraid of him. And suddenly all those happy memories of the only mother-figure he's ever known are tainted, ruined by the idea that she would have rather had him be dead than ever touch her, but she did what she felt she had to do so he would be a good boy.

And he doesn't understand. He was a good boy, wasn't he? His heart was in the right place, wasn't it? He only did what he thought would make her happy, and he tried to be have his best when she asked, didn't he? So why did she hate him so much? Why was she so afraid of him?

And it tears him up inside. It destroys him. He feels hurt, and angry, and scared, and it burns him up until that heat has nowhere to go but out.

And he kills her. And it kills him.

It's with Stillwell's death we see him truly change. He stops being the boy scout, in his own eyes. He just killed someone who meant everything to him. He killed someone he thought genuinely cared about him, saw him as good, and loved.

We watch him die right alongside her, and in that moment he performs one last act of kindness as he loses the final shred of hope in his heart: he saves Billy Butcher and makes sure that Stillwell's baby survives as well.

We see another kick in the head when he visits his "creator", the man in charge of the Homelander experiment that gave birth to him. And this man says he is nothing but a failure. A living embodiment of all that man did wrong, and all that man failed to achieve. He says that Homelander is nothing but one big failed experiment, and is his greatest regret in life.

Flash ahead. He's unchained, mostly. Edgar is still in control of him, but Edgar doesn't care enough to tug the leash. He expects Homelander to tie his own chain, and if he doesn't, then Edgar will yank it and choke the bastard for all he's worth until he sits, heels, like a good little attack dog.

And for the most part this works. Homelander stays under Edgar's radar, his descent hardly noticed, because he doesn't do anything that Vaught can track that he wouldn't have done before Stillwell's death.

All the while, mourning the loss of the only person to ever even pretend to care about him.

And then we meet Ryan, and realize who he is.

And when Homelander learns he has a son, we see something special, something that, until now, didn't seem possible.

We see the light come back into his eyes.

We see him start to hope again.

A son. The perfect opportunity to do better, to prove he is, in fact, a good man. If he can just do right by Ryan, if he can raise him right, be a good dad to him, show him the love, and compassion, and care that he never knew, then Ryan could grow up happy. Well-adjusted. We see that Homelander fully recognizes how broken and mangled a man he is.

Homelander wants Ryan to turn out better than him. He wants Ryan to turn out happier than him.

And we watch Stormfront ruin that pure, beautiful desire.

Stormfront corrupts him. He's vulnerable, he's weak-minded, after Stillwell. He knows what he wants, but he doesn't know how to do it or why, he knows what he desires, but he can't have it. And then Stormfront gives it to him. A supe who can not only take what he can dish out, but give it back just as well. A supe who sees him as good. A supe who seems to love him, truly.

She doesn't.

She, like all of his fans, loves WHAT he is, loves the IDEA of him, not Homelander himself.

He's blond, blue-eyed, white, and an omnipotent powerhouse.

And Stormfront is a nazi. How could she not love what he is and what he represents?

She manipulates him, turns him against his own idea of wanting to be good and convinces him that this brattiness, this pettiness, this immature need to be better than everyone is not a flaw, it's his birthright.

And Ryan is the product of that birthright. Ryan does not need to be better than Homelander, Ryan needs to learn from Homelander, learn to rule, to subjugate, because Homelander is a God, one who should rule the Earth, and Ryan is his Prince, destined to take over one day.

All of this is instilled into Homelander through Stormfront's manipulations. And on the one day every year that he's allowed to be treated like a person, the one day every year he gets a taste of humanity...

She does the one thing that would guarantee her lies stick like glue.

She dies.

She rips away the last person he ever thought he would have to live without, on the one day he never expected to be hurt on.

And we see that light, the one Ryan reignited, flicker.

He gets angry. He gets bitter. He realizes that, aside from Ryan, he is entirely peerless. Alone.

And Ryan must be nurtured, yes? Guided, right? Stormfront wanted the world for Ryan, and Homelander wants the best for his son, and so the world is exactly what Ryan will get. Homelander no longer cares about himself. He doesn't.

Homelander cannot be selfish past this point; he could drop dead then and there and as long as Ryan has the world in his palm, Homelander would die happy.

But he can't die. He won't die. Ryan needs him. Ryan deserves a father. Ryan deserves Homelander's life, his attention, his dedication.

And we see spots of vanity, yes. The preening, the pruning of grey hairs, the bitterness over his noticeable aging.

But these are not the same as selfishness. These are things integral to Homelander. He's supposed to be a God. God's don't age, why is he aging? It's so disgustingly human. That's what he thinks.

But it gives him a sense of urgency. He doesn't know how long he has. A year? Ten? Twenty? A hundred? Two hundred? More? Nobody knows, with supes. Some don't age at all, others age too fast, others age slowly, and Homelander is already a one-in-a-million fluke. Who's to say he won't suddenly age fifty years in the span of the next ten? Who's to say he'll ever age beyond what he is now?

He doesn't know. And he can't control it. He can't fight it. He can't change it. He has to prepare for the possibility he hates most.

He has to prepare for his death.

But then he learns who his father is. He learns that his father is alive, even. Soldier Boy, the idea that inspired Homelander. And he has to meet the man, has to introduce Ryan to his grandfather. We see that light in his eyes grow, because now he doesn't just have a son, he has a father.

The father he needed.

And when he finally meets him, finally gets face-to-face with the man who could so easily give him everything he ever wanted, the man who could fix him, show him what it means to be a parent...

He's rejected.

Soldier Boy tells him that he's pathetic, that he's nothing, that he's hardly even a man. Even the suit Homelander is so proud of isn't free from insult, with Soldier Boy saying "Look at you...You're wearing a goddamn cape..."

He has nothing but disappointment for what Homelander is, and resentment for the way Homelander was raised, but sees him as too far gone, too broken, too weak to fix. The only cure is death.

And once again, we see that light flicker.

He needs to be better than this man, DO better than this man.

And that means securing Ryan's place atop the world. This is why he calls in Sister Sage. Sister Sage is so incredibly intelligent, so beautifully smart, she can guarantee things he would never even figure out are possible. And, begrudgingly, he accepts her help.

But her help isn't giving him what he really wants most, because while putting Ryan atop the pyramid is his end goal, he wants Ryan's love just as badly. He wants to see the fruits of his efforts, to know that what he's doing is good and right, that it's best for Ryan.

And Ryan is showing him, at every turn, that it's not right.

Homelander kills for Ryan, and Ryan doesn't like it.

Homelander makes Ryan the object of public adoration, and Ryan doesn't like it.

Homelander is glad Billy's dying, and Ryan doesn't like it.

Everything Homelander does for Ryan, every effort he makes, is torn apart by the fact that Ryan doesn't want any of it. He wants a dad, not a coach, he wants a parent, not an instructor.

He wants a life, not godhood.

And Homelander has been so corrupted, so broken, so destroyed by every single person in his life that he cannot understand that.

To him, godhood and life are one and the same. Being alive is not a right, in his eyes, it is something that is deserved, earned, a reward, and he is the man to impress, he is the man to earn it from, and one day that man will be Ryan, and why can't Ryan see any of that?

None of this is in defense of Homelander. But I can't see one side of anything without seeing every other side of it.

And in Homelander's mind, he has done everything he can to be loved, to be appreciated, to be known and cared about...

And every single time, his power has caused people to hate him, to fear him. The only love he's ever known is that of the public and that of his son, and with every outburst, every conflict of interests, he is slowly losing that more and more.

And every time Ryan runs away from him, every time Ryan cries because of him, every time Ryan frowns over something Homelander has done, every human Ryan mourns, is a slap in the face. Water on the fire.

And we see that light drain from his eyes a little more each time.

I don't believe anything Homelander has done is justified.

But I do believe that, in his shoes, with his life, under all of the same circumstances...

I believe most of us would be no different than he is.

Broken.

Betrayed.

Abused.

Lashing out at every reminder of the pains of our existence.

A scared, angry child, with the power of a god, who was never shown that a better way does exist.

A wounded animal conditioned from birth to hate humans for what they did to it.

Homelander is tragic.

And I feel so very sorry for him.

[aninagirly]

The Art of Asking Girls to Pose with or for you

It happens more often than you'd think: guys asking me for a photo somewhere. It could be in the city, in the park, at a bar, or even in a store. While sometimes I agree, 9 our of 10 I say no. And it's not because I always wouldn't do it, it's just because most guys are clueless on how to ask.

Let's explore why girls might not want to take photos with you and how you can increase your chances of getting a positive response. 

This is just from my experience and I am just trying to help by talking about the things guys have done wrong, ok?

Why Girls Will Say No

Personal Boundaries: Everyone has different comfort levels with personal space and interactions. A girl might not feel comfortable taking a photo with someone she doesn't know well.

Privacy Concerns: In an age where photos can be shared instantly online, some girls might be wary of where their image could end up. We don't like the idea to be shown around as your girlfriend somewhere!!

Mood and Context: If she's having a bad day, is in a rush, or simply doesn't feel like it, she might decline.

Safety: Unfortunately, there are instances where women have to be cautious about their interactions with strangers for their own safety. Creeeeeps!

It's crucial to understand that it is always up to the girl whether she wants to take a photo with you. Respect her decision without any negative reactions.

How to Increase Your Chances

1. Judge Her Context:

• Is she in a rush? If she looks like she's on a mission, it's best to let her go.

• Does she need help? If she seems like she could use assistance, offering help or being useful can be a good way to start a conversation, for example if you can help her with a suitcase. Make sure you help her first, before you ask for the photo though!!

2. Make It About Her:

Use the context to show that you care about her comfort and interests. For example, if you're at a park and she seems to be enjoying the scenery, you could mention how beautiful the park is and ask if she'd like to capture the moment together.

The good news about this tip is, it really works any guy, no matter what you look like. Most girls don't care about looks in guy, but more about how he makes them feel. It's like the biggest superpower guys have and most don't even know it!

3. Be sensitive, dial down the creep factor

Don't come on too strong. Being overly enthusiastic or intense can be off-putting. Keep the interaction light and friendly.

4. Offer a Compliment (yup, those still work!)

A genuine compliment can go a long way. For example you can compliment her for the choice of outfit she made for a specific night out in the context she is in, like playing pool at a bar.

Girls put a lot of thought into what to wear. Showing that you are into fashion from her point of view and care about the effort she put in is a great ice breaker!

Try to make it about her and not about the clothes she has on. E.g., "I love how you choose a leather mini for this occasion. Such a cool idea." Not: I love your leather mini. Huuuuge difference.

5. Pay close attention to her Reaction:

Pay attention to her body language and verbal cues. If she seems receptive and positive, you can proceed to ask for a photo. Don't continue if she looks mad, regardless of if you think you messed up or not. Just say sorry and leave. Trust me! Nothing is more aggravating than a guy who can't find the exit in a moment like this.

6. Finally, the Ask: Make her 100% comfortable and be transparent.

When you ask, do so politely and respectfully. Always ask "Is it okay if..." or "Can I..." before each step to make her feel in control.

Ask if you can be in the shot or not, first! Don't assume she agreed on a selfie!

Turn on the shutter sound, so she knows you only took one photo at a time.

Always show her the photo right away so she can see how it turned out.

If she doesn't like it, delete it immediately. Don't argue. Just delete it immediately!

Ask for her permission to take a new one, each time!

If she asks you to delete the photo, do so immediately and show her that you've deleted it from the trash as well. This shows that you respect her wishes and privacy.

Remember, the key is to be respectful and considerate. A positive interaction is more likely to lead to a positive response. Happy photo-taking!

[crepes-suzette-373]

[Ch 1119 spoiler] Sanji can activate his exoskeleton at will?? So it wasn't him flipping unconsciously, he was doing it on purpose???

Or, if it's not at will, at the very least he's fully aware that it's activated.

WHAT!?!?!??!!?

This is really important!! If he can be self-aware when the exoskeleton was activated or he can turn it on and off at will, then he knows this is happening when he said "Power of Love". He might just be sarcastic, but he still knows full well that what he is calling "Power of Love" is the Germa mods.

See below how one moment the brow is normal and the next he can just casually do Ifrit Jambe (brow flipped, of course):

I know I probably shouldn't assume too much with very minimal info, but... there doesn't seem to be any alternative explanation at this point?

If Sanji doesn't mind calling the exoskeleton mods "Power of Love", then it's not impossible for the mods to be "redeemed" into just a force of good later. All we need is to make sure there is to somehow remove the time bomb trigger of his emotions getting messed up.

For the longest time I've noted that Sora was only protesting about the boys' emotions being fiddled with (theory post here). She did not say she's not okay with them having powers.

TL;DR in my analysis I've come to the conclusion that the reason why Sanji's modifications also disappeared when Sora's medicine worked on him because all the modifications are in the lineage factor. Whatever is in that medicine, it affected the entire lineage factor and so it blocked both the emotion manipulation and also the physical manipulation. We just don't really know the why and how specifics yet.

Therefore, Sanji keeping the powers is not against Sora's intentions. Once again, as long as he doesn't lose his ability to empathise and be kind, the exoskeleton and superpowers are fine. It'd be exactly like the Kamen Rider parallel, where the Rider got his whole powers from the evil organisation that he was fighting. He was just using that ill-gotten powers for the sake of good.

In some of my older theory posts I mentioned since Vegapunk is out of commission, extracting or manipulating very very specific strands of the lineage factor might be doable using Law's fruit powers, since it can selectively extract out his disease. We'll see later...

I'm kind of cautiously hopeful/excited. When I made the solar eclipse theory with Germa being the moon and Sora being the sun, I'm not sure if the intention is that he needs to get rid of the eclipsing moon to "become the sun" (remove Germa mods entirely), or the moon can stay but needs to be "adjusted/realigned" so that it can function properly because moonlight is simply the sun's reflection after all (fixing the Germa mods so that the exoskeleton and heightened speed and strength can stay, but no longer has any impact on his "heart"/emotions).

My personal preference is the latter, but in the fandom people were hyping up the former. I've seen some theories saying that Sora's medicine gave Sanji superpowers that is not the Germa mods somehow, so I wasn't overly confident with my theory, but this new chapter indicates that the version that I like is not completely impossible or off base. Crossing fingers...

Also this gives me a liiiiiittle bit more hope that 124ji can be healed later too. Think about it, even a full lunar eclipse doesn't make the moon go entirely dark and disappear. It just makes it look red and weird. There's still light in there.

[rhysiana]

Because I saw a post about how modern AU WWX would probably actually be as tall as LWJ, if not taller, since so many modern AUs don't feature him suffering as much childhood privation as canon, which reminded me of another thought I have had, about how an early life period of interrupted growth can in fact just delay a person's growth spurts rather than eliminating them. Thus: WWX who gets confusingly taller after graduating from college.

3 People Wei Ying Talked to About Suddenly Getting Taller and 1 Person Who Definitely Noticed On His Own

[Now also on AO3]

Wen Ning

Wei Ying looked down at his feet, perplexed. "Wen Ning?" he yelled down the hall. "Did something weird happen to the washing machine that you didn't tell me about?"

Wen Ning popped his head around the door to Wei Ying's room. "No? I don't think so."

"Then why are all my pants suddenly too short?" A new thought occurred to him and he looked up, now delighted. "Wen Ning! Are you actually pulling a prank on me? I know I don't have all that many clothes, but still, this must have taken so much work! I respect the dedication." He held out a fist.

Wen Ning just blinked at him. "I think... maybe you got taller, actually?"

Wei Ying scoffed. "I'm way too old for a growth spurt. Seriously, did Nie Huaisang put you up to this?"

Wen Ning gave up arguing and simply produced a tape measure instead.

~*~

Wen Qing

Wei Ying burst into Wen Qing's lab, which he might have felt worse about if she hadn't been babysitting an experiment while no one else was around. He still received an impressive glare, but he didn't have time to worry about that right now.

"Wen Qing, I need you to test me for every weird kind of chemical exposure you can think of!"

She blinked at him, looking remarkably like her brother for a moment. "Wei Ying, you're in computer science. Exactly when do you come in contact with chemicals?"

"Uh. A leak on the science campus somewhere?"

"What is actually wrong with you? Tell me in the next," she glanced at the clock, "three minutes or leave."

"I apparently grew another inch in the last month without noticing. That can't be natural. I'm 23."

She stared at him for a moment, frowned, and then her expression cleared. "You said once that you had a bad time when you were younger. Stopped growing for a while."

"Why do you even remember that?" Wei Ying asked with an uncomfortable laugh, looking away. He must have been drunk; he didn't usually bring that time of his life up in any detail. It just made people sad.

Wen Qing turned away briskly, ignoring his minor display of emotion, and checked some readouts he was pretty sure hadn't actually changed in any way yet. "Well, that's why. Your growth spurts just got delayed, not erased. It's normal. I'll send you some references tomorrow."

He swept her up in a relieved hug. "Thank you, Qing-jie. Even if this does mean I'm not developing some weird superpower mutation."

She poked him cruelly in the ribs to get him to let go. "Go away, you're distracting me."

~*~

Jiang Cheng

"You what?!" Jiang Cheng demanded at full volume. It'd been a while since they'd managed to get together in person--Wei Ying had nearly forgotten how red with frustration Jiang Cheng could get.

Wei Ying grinned and bounced a little on his toes to really rub it in. "Grew another inch."

"No! This isn't allowed! The universe can't do this to me!"

"What's the problem, little brother?" Wei Ying edged closer so he could prop his elbow on Jiang Cheng's shoulder and really lean on him. "I think I should get jiejie to measure me again and mark it on the door frame. Really make it official."

"Don't you dare!"

"Why don't I ask her now, so she'll be all ready when we see her next weekend?" Wei Ying fished out his phone and then held it up over his head, laughing, as Jiang Cheng lunged for it.

Jiang Cheng's eyes narrowed. "An inch isn't really that much," he growled, and hooked Wei Ying's leg in a takedown they'd both learned when they were 11.

Wei Ying tossed his phone out of wrestling range and turned his full attention to finding a hold that would make Jiang Cheng tap out.

~*~

Lan Zhan

"Wei Ying."

Most people claimed Lan Zhan's voice (and face) didn't have any expression, but Wei Ying could clearly hear the shock underlying his name.

"Lan Zhan!" he returned brightly. "You're back! Did you have a good trip? You've been gone for months and months!"

Wei Ying was used to the intensity of Lan Zhan's regard under normal circumstances--one of the many things he loved about being friends with him--but he didn't think he was imagining that it was particularly intense today.

"It was as I texted you," Lan Zhan said shortly, and then, surprisingly, continued before Wei Ying could get a teasing reply in. "Wei Ying... did you get taller?"

"Oh, that!" Wei Ying felt himself start to blush, for some reason. "Yeah, I did. It was so weird at first, but Qing-jie assures me it's normal, and I've almost gotten used to it now. It was just an inch but I had to go buy all new... pants..." He trailed off as Lan Zhan pushed into his personal space much closer than he ever had without Wei Ying initiating it first, as far as Wei Ying could recall. "Hi?"

They were nearly chest to chest now, and he could see it when Lan Zhan actually had to tilt his chin up just a bit to meet Wei Ying's eyes.

"Hello," Lan Zhan said, grave and low and very, very focused.

Wei Ying wasn't entirely sure what was happening right now, but he was pretty sure he was into it.