#it seems like everyone had fun and didn’t take it too seriously which i appreciate in a b-movie

[eruptedinlight]

Doug Jones’ Face in Every Role | 2 / ?

Dr. Randolph Fairfax - 1,2,3...Scream

[solar-wing]

⚣ Mind Yours 🤫

⚣🤫 A/N → Custom Spiderman drawing done by daviid.art on Instagram! Check out his work! Thank you! Always credit your fellow creators people. Anyway, first Miguel O'Hara fic. I think this was born out of my genuine disdain for him story-wise for trying to *spoiler bleep sound*, but also, from the fact that I'd let this man eat me like a Sunday dinner: no leftovers. Yeah...I said it. WARNINGS: Bit cringe but oh well. Flirty vibes (towards the end), Jealousy & Possessiveness, implied size kink.

⚣🤫 Summary → Okay, let's recap: Being one of the newly invited members into the Spider Society or Elite Force (what is the official name for this place anyway), there's a lot to take in. For one and probably the most pressing, why the hell is Miguel O'Hara always in Y/N's business? Does that man not have an entire Spiderman Task Force to run? And seriously, WHAT IS THE OFFICIAL TITLE OF THIS PLACE?!

⚣🤫 Words → 2.3K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🤫

The Spider Society.

No, the Spidermen Elite Task Force.

Nah, that’s stupid too. What about the Spidey Watch Force?

Seriously?

Alright, names could be dealt with later. But, at some point, Y/N was going to have to figure out what the official name for this place was. It was enough when he was recruited by his mentor, Peter Parker B. Why he had the B on his hand, he didn’t initially understand until he came to HQ and realized just how many different versions of him there were.

Yeah, the B was necessary.

Anyway, Peter took him on as a mentor when their recruiting department, if that was the official title for it, singled him out as a candidate with high potential. He said that Y/N reminded him a lot of another one of his unofficial mentees named Miles. The recruit noted that he seemed to hear that name a lot around the place, but not always in the most positive manner. Especially from their leader, Spiderman 2099, or Miguel O’Hara officially.

Speaking of that dude, Y/N was getting more and more concerned with how much attention the guy seemed to be paying to him. He figured in the beginning, he just wanted to keep an eye on him to see how he was doing and make sure he was following protocols. It made sense, but as time went on and he continued to just always be around, that’s when the recruit started to get a bit weirded out.

Miguel was an interesting person, to say the least. Quiet and broody, a bit obsessive, and a lot irritable. but one who tended to have a flare for the dramatic. When he met the new recruit, most saw his interaction with him as typical behavior. However, those closest to him, like Lyla, Jess, and Peter, knew better.

When Peter brought Y/N to Miguel’s office to introduce the new recruit, which the Hispanic Spidey personally requested, he was his typical sarcastic and cold self. What surprised everyone was when he offered to personally mentor Y/N, saying Peter had more important things to deal with like his (at the time) pregnant wife.

Y/N appreciated the offer but chose to stick with Peter. He didn’t mention that Miguel sort of creeped him out and made him feel intimidated, figuring that would make things any better. Of course, his original mentor had to go and make it awkward anyway by gloating at how great of a mentor he had to be.

Jess, of course, disagreed with that statement.

There was no visual reaction from the Hispanic man, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he wasn’t happy with Y/N’s decision. But, could you blame the guy?!

Peter made training fun. He found ways to make things seem more fun and comical than they would’ve seemed in the moment. He always had a lightheartedness to his teachings and would use the most interesting (questionable) examples when helping Y/N solve a problem.

Miguel didn’t mentor that many people from what the recruit saw, and just from those sights, he could see why. He took things way too seriously. Always looking at things from a negative or sarcastic point of view. The man was stubborn as hell, refusing to believe that you could teach and guide without being an obsessive hard-ass 24/7.

In his mind, he was only teaching discipline and responsibility. Y/N made a joke saying his teachings are probably the blueprint for what sends people to therapy. Jess, Lyla, and Peter all laughed while Miguel just scowled from afar.

But, it didn’t stop there.

The more time Y/N spent in the task force, the more he noticed how Miguel was always finding reasons or excuses to be in his business. It wasn’t just routine checkups and one-on-ones as most would expect.

Miguel was virtually finding any way he could stick his nose truly where it didn’t belong. Y/N found it annoying and a bit obsessive, while Peter, Jess, and even Hobie eventually all saw it for what it was. Typically, most Spider-people were not known for being the most discreet when it came to someone they were interested in.

It started with small stuff; Miguel constantly calling Y/N into his for the smallest of things. He didn’t like how he handled this mission, should’ve called for backup on that mission, make sure he doesn’t interfere with canon events, yada yada yada.

Then, it started with small comments about whatever Y/N was doing. Him being on his phone too much, spending too much time goofing around with Peter and the other Spiders, and taking too many trips home when he wanted to see his family.

Anything that had to do with Y/N, the big-bodied muscled Latin had something to say about it, even when he wasn’t present. He’d come across some Spiders who had been partnered with the mentee on the last few missions. He overheard one of them making a suggestive comment and it did not sit well with him for obvious reasons.

The next day, Y/N was confused as to why he was suddenly being pulled from all missions with his previous comrades. Though he never did find out exactly why, he had a strong suspicion of who more or less was responsible for it. And not just because the order came directly from them, but that added to it

It only got more interesting when Y/N got his new mission assignments from Peter, and he saw that he was “coincidentally” paired with Miguel on all of them. The mentee looked at his mentor with confusion and annoyance and only got a shrug in response and an empathetic apology.

Jess and the computer hologram also gave him sympathetic responses but gave their friend and leader suspicious and not-impressed ones when they met with him later that day. Of course, Miguel played innocent and oblivious, acting as if he was only doing this to help improve Y/N’s abilities and skills out in the field since he observed some specific areas where he was lacking.

“Oh, you’re observing all right…” Peter mumbled under his breath to which Jess and Lyla both giggled.

Miguel was not tickled.

The missions, as expected, were a lot. On multiple occasions, Y/N felt like he was ready to either strangle Miguel or himself. Whichever came first was completely out of his hands.

Miguel was on him for every single thing he did, but the gag was that he wasn’t even doing much since the control freak would always push Y/N behind him, taking on whatever enemy or threat himself. He’d usually just end up doing things like crowd control, getting civilians and innocents out of danger, and jumping in whenever his leader got overwhelmed.

Yet, that wasn’t even the worst part.

During these “intimate” times together (if you could even call it that), Miguel would take it upon himself to start asking innocent little questions. Of course, only if you define ‘innocent’ as very invasive in Y/N’s personal business. In that case, Miguel was an angel sent from heaven.

There were many kinds of questions, but they mostly were focused on Y/N’s personal life, specifically his relationships whether platonic or non-platonic. If, by this point, it hasn’t occurred that Miguel doesn’t have a subtle bone in his body, especially when it comes to keeping his “possessive” nature under control, then let it be known now.

Miguel’s jealousy was obvious as shit.

Yet, the only one who was oblivious to it was Y/N, who was getting more and more irritated and frustrated with every question in his life about why he was talking to this one person, and why didn’t he accept Miguel as a mentor. Physically incapable of letting shit go.

That topic made frequent appearances in their conversations where Miguel would go into one of his sarcastic and moody rants about Peter not being a fit mentor and how he would do so much better. The man was petty and could hold a grudge, and this seemed to be one he would not let go of for a long time.

At some point, Y/N had enough and went radio silent. Not completely, though. He told Peter that he was taking some time off and gonna stay in his dimension for a bit, to give himself a break from Miguel.

When he returned home, he left his watch buried in his desk and turned whatever communications or alerts he could off. As you can imagine, this did not sit well with Miguel, who probably was the only one who was consistently trying to contact Y/N, demanding to know why he wasn’t reporting in for their meetings or missions.

He would’ve gone to Peter and demanded he tell him what was going on, but he didn’t trust that soon-to-be father would give him the answer he wanted. So, he took matters into his own hands and made his way to Earth–6998.

Imagine Y/N’s surprise when he came home to a tall, buff-ass, brooding vampire Spiderman waiting in his bedroom with his watch in hand.

“Oh my god! Are you serious? You followed me home, broke into my house, and went through my drawer? And you’re sitting on my bed with outside clothes on?!” Y/N snapped.

That last one was just plain rude.

Miguel moved himself off the bed, his mask still on hiding his mildly guilty and awkward face.

“Why haven’t you reported to HQ? You missed three assignments, and I had to fix and fight a bunch of anomalies on my own.” Miguel demanded in his usual gruff manner.

“Because I’m taking a vacation, that’s why. And said vacation starts with me now washing my sheets and you leaving.” Y/N huffed before bumping past the taller man. He roughly pulled his sheets and pillowcases off his bed, gathering them in his arms before stomping towards the door, heading for his in-unit washer and dryer.

Miguel was hot on his trail, though, not planning on following the smaller Spiderman’s order in the slightest.

He was the boss last time he checked.

“I’m not going anywhere until you explain why you’ve been ignoring me.”

Y/N rolled his eyes while grabbing the detergent and fabric softener off the shelves from above, “I don’t have to explain anything to you. You may be in charge when it comes to your little Spider Society or Task Force or whatever you freaking call it, but when it comes to my life and my personal business, I answer to me, myself, and I only.”

After setting the washer and turning it on, he closed the lid before turning around, being met with a towering and bulky frame standing over him, not giving him much room to move past considering the tight space.

“I’d appreciate it if you would move out my way,” Y/N irritably asked, though his tone indicated that it was definitely not an ‘ask’ and more like a ‘get the fuck out my way.’

“I’d appreciate it if you stopped acting like a brat and ignoring me.” Miguel retorted.

“Ignoring you? IGNORING you?! How could I possibly ignore you when you constantly force your way into my life every single day? I can’t do anything or go anywhere without you two steps behind me or constantly asking me something that is, quite frankly, none of your concern! So, again, I am going to ask as politely as I can that you remove yourself from my home and learn how to mind yours. And, just so there’s no confusion, I 100% mean sticking your nose out of my business!”

Y/N went to bump past the stronger Spidey before he felt a large and tight grip on his upper arm, his whole body being pulled back before being shoved against the adjacent wall to the washing machine. Miguel crowded him against the surface, his body dwarfing him in size and leaving any possible room for him to move or try to escape.

Miguel leaned down into the young Spider’s face, his mask dematerializing over his face, showing the smug and flirty expression that was hiding under.

“You are my business, and I’ll continue doing as I please until you get it through your oblivious, tiny brain. Now, I’ll finish your sheets while you go get suited up, put your watch back on, and bring your ass back to HQ. We have a mission tonight, and then, we’re going to have a nice, long talk after.”

“And, just exactly how are you planning to make me do that?” Y/N pushed back, even if a small part of him wanted to give in, considering how so not hot he was finding this.

He had a thing for aggressive and dominant guys; sue him.

“Well, for starters, I can easily just say forget the sheets, toss you over my shoulder, and drag you back to HQ, whether you like it or not. But, I’d figured it’d be more considerate if I allowed you to return on your own choice.”

There was a silent pause between the two males, Miguel’s red eyes staring deep into Y/N’s who held a defiant glint in his own irises. A silent challenge was being waged between the two, seeing who would cave first, and considering the position he was already in, it was safe to say the smaller Spidey wouldn’t be winning this one, no matter how many webs or one-liners he shot out.

“Didn’t think the word considerate was in your vocabulary. Fine. But, I’m just doing the mission, and then I’m leaving.” Y/N caved, still somewhat in a defiant mood. Really, he was pushing the waters to see how far he could go.

Miguel raised an amused eyebrow before leaning up, giving the smaller Spider room to move. Just as Y/N moved out of his grasp, he felt a hot sting on his rear end. His hands went to cover his throbbing tushie while turning to see a cocky look on his face, the guilty gloved hand with the claws extended caught in the act.

“Remember who’s in charge here. Mind yours, Y/N, and I’ll mind mine.”

☀️ | Miguel O'Hara/Spiderman-2099 | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[prongsfish]

@croptopjames / 1,015 words / happy bday jfp <3 - nsfw but fades to black

Regulus thought he might die, honestly.

This couldn’t be allowed. It was surely against the rules. Regulus wasn’t exactly sure what rules he was referring to (Laws against public indecency, maybe?), but somebody had to stop James Potter.

He knew exactly what he was doing, too. Chest puffed out, arms crossed, and leaning against the wall, all while idly rolling his wrist, the red cup in his hand moving in circles. Regulus couldn’t see into the cup, but assuming it wasn’t yet empty of beer, he thought the liquid sloshing around inside was likely reminiscent of the feeling inside his stomach. His smile too, of course, betrayed his self-satisfaction. The glint in his eyes said that he knew just how much he was affecting the other party-goers.

Regulus huffed over the man’s ridiculously large ego and tried not to think about how, at that moment, he was the perfect example to prove it justified.

And he definitely wasn’t thinking about the strip of brown skin between the top of his jeans and the hem of his shirt, which was much too small for him. The skin that was covered by it was only barely less inappropriate as he may as well have not been wearing a shirt at all with how tightly it clung to the contours of his defined torso.

He looks ridiculous, Regulus thought, like he’s wearing a kid’s t-shirt. He ignored the contrasting reaction his body seemed to be insisting on, but still couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes away.

“Jesus Christ, mate, try not to drool,” Barty said from beside him. Regulus scowled but didn’t so much as glance over at him, despite having no clue when he got there. “I’ve seriously never seen you look this desperate. I’m a bit worried you’ll combust.”

“Shut up.” He replied through gritted teeth. Barty just sighed and pet him roughly on the back.

“Alright, whatever, I’m gonna go see if Dorcas has found anything stronger to drink yet. Have fun with your ogling.”

Regulus didn’t bother answering, instead taking a sip of the drink he’d been nursing for a while by then. He wasn’t exactly sure what was in it, but Pandora made it, so he wasn’t worried. Any other of his friends and he wouldn’t have dared touch it.

James had been talking to people most of the night and had only been on his own like that for a few minutes. Regulus watched him as he watched everyone else, had been watching him all night, really, but appreciated that he was standing still now. He swore that the man couldn’t stay in one spot for more than thirty seconds.

He didn't know why he felt caught out, then, when James' eyes finally wandered over to him, smirk widening to find Regulus’ eyes already trained intently on him. He wasn’t exactly being subtle, and James had been watching all around the room, of course he’d look his way eventually. If his brain hadn’t been occupied with… other details and he’d thought about it, he would’ve expected it.

He wouldn’t have expected James to then push off the wall and start walking towards him, though.

“Hey Reg,” He said once he was close enough to be heard over the music blasting around them. God, he looked so full of himself. Disgustingly pleased. It made Regulus’ blood burn.

“Potter,” Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t take that tone with me after I caught you staring.” James wasn’t that much taller than Regulus, but the handful of inches between them meant he looked down at him when they spoke. It definitely did not make Regulus’ stomach flood with butterflies.

“I was simply astounded by your ridiculous attire. I don’t quite know what you were going for there, but it’s a bit of a train wreck.”

“Y’know it’s useless lying to me, baby. It’s written all over your face what you’re really thinking.” God, his voice was good. Deeper than usual, and thick and sweet as syrup. Did he just call him baby?

“And what exactly, would you say, I’m thinking?” Regulus narrowed his eyes, staring directly into James’ own.

James' free hand lifted to rest lightly on Regulus’ hip, just grazing the side of his waist. He tried to hide the way he sucked in a breath, but James’ grin told him he was unsuccessful.

“Similar to what I am, surely.”

Regulus swallowed hard. He wouldn’t give in this easily. “What would Sirius think about you touching his little brother like this, hm?”

James just exhaled a laugh. “Sirius isn’t here right now.” His grip tightened slightly as he leaned forward to murmur only inches away from his face and Regulus couldn’t resist how his eyes snapped down to watch how muscles both covered and uncovered by his shirt shifted. “Don’t change the subject.”

Alright, maybe Regulus would give in that easily.

He swayed forward, suddenly, hands moving up to cup his face and pulling him into a kiss. James’ lips reacted quickly, moving against his own, and his arm shifted around his waist to place his palm on his back. James’ tongue slid against Regulus’ lips and he opened them without hesitation, groaning into his mouth as they hurried to escalate. The sound seemed to spur James on some more, and he started walking them both away, speaking words at a time between devouring Regulus’ mouth with his own. “C’mon, baby, the- fuck- bathroom, this way.”

Normally, Regulus would've challenged his assumption he’d follow him into the bathroom, but this time he only nodded quickly and let James lead him away. Barty was right, he was acting like some common fucking whore. At this rate, if they hadn’t moved into the bathroom, James pushing him against the wall as soon as they were in, they really would’ve been at risk of trouble for public indecency.

As James' mouth left his, moving to trail hot kisses down his body as Regulus writhed above him, all he managed to get out between quiet gasps and moans was “Whatever you do, just, keep- ah-, the shirt, on.”

[cyarikacyare]

Taking a break from our regular scheduled program to post this Fivesoka ficlet!!

@tealmisthams this is for you (for no particular reason other than I feel like it because I know you’ll appreciate it)

The only other Fivesoka content I’ve written besides for the Fivesoka creation event and it is a few years old at this point, but I still like it a lot!

Modern AU, prompt was “Really dating , but everyone thinks it’s fake”. It’s pretty short, but still fun (I think so and I hope you do too)

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Fives didn’t hesitate to jump up and answer the door as soon as the doorbell went off.

“I’ve got it!” he shouted through the house, running to answer it.

On the other side stood Anakin and Ahsoka, as expected.

“Hey guys!” Fives smiled. “You made it!”

“Was there any doubt?” Anakin smirked, giving Fives a handshake.

“We wouldn’t miss gaming with you and Rex for the world!” Ahsoka said, winking.

“Speaking of which,” Anakin said inviting himself in. “Where is Rex? Rex!”

“I’m setting up already!” the other boy called out.

Anakin chuckled and made his way towards the living room.

Fives beckoned for Ahsoka to come in. She eagerly obliged and slipped off her shoes.

“You still want to tell them today?” Fives asked as he grabbed her hand.

“Yep!” Ahsoka said cheerfully. “Not a doubt about it!” She squeezed Fives’ hand. “As long as you’re still okay with it?”

Fives nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Walking into the living room, they found Rex and Anakin already set up and ready to go.

“What took so long?” Rex asked tossing the controllers at them. “Ready to go?”

“More ready then you are!” Ahsoka laughed, launching herself onto the couch. Fives chuckled and sat on the floor in front of her.

“You’re all gonna get whooped by me today!” Fives said.

Anakin snorted. “As if.”

Well into the third round, Fives looked over his shoulder at Ahsoka. She smiled and gave his shoulder a rub. “What’s up?” she asked.

“Now?” he said quietly.

“Sure,” Ahsoka shrugged. “Though they do seem very preoccupied trying to beat each other.”

“The distraction should help lessen the shock.”

Ahsoka nodded. “True.”

Fives turned back around and cleared his throat. “So,” he said slowly. “Ahsoka and I have something to tell you.”

“It had better be serious,” Rex said through clenched teeth as he tried to gain an advantage on Anakin.

“It is,” Ahsoka said.

Anakin hummed, indicating his lack of belief, but Fives continued.

“Ahsoka and I are dating,” he stated. Ahsoka squeezed his hand.

“As if,” Rex snorted. It was followed by a muttered curse word as Anakin took another life from him.

“You know,” Anakin said, somehow managing to keep his attention on the game. “That’s a new prank for you. A good one, but not that good.”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “Thanks, but it’s not a prank.”

“We’re serious,” Fives insisted.

Anakin gave a victorious cry as he won, leaving Rex groaning in defeat. Then, Anakin turned to face his sister and friend.

“I’m impressed you’re trying to pull this off, but it won’t work. Also, I’m gonna start becoming incredibly suspicious anytime you and Fives are planning a get together for video games,” he directed at Ahsoka.

“It’s not a prank!” Ahsoka said. “I promise.”

“Yeah,” Anakin nodded. “Just like how Padmé coming over wasn’t a prank either? Well, guess what? Padmé didn’t deliver that pizza!”

Yeah, but that was priceless,” Rex chuckled.

Anakin groaned. “Don’t encourage them! You’re suppose to be on my side!”

“I am!” Rex shouted. He turned to Fives and Ahsoka. “Seriously guys, you should drop the joke before it gets you in trouble.”

“It’s not a joke!”

Fives could hear the exasperation in Ahsoka’s voice. He placed a hand on her knee and smiled. “I’ve got this.”

She nodded and slowly smiled back.

“Hey Dad?” Fives called out. “Could you come here a second?”

Rex eyes widened and he stared dumbfounded at his brother. “Don’t you dare try this one on Dad!” he warned. “Don’t you dare.”

In less than a minute, Jango Fett entered the living room. He crossed his arms and looked at his younger son. “What is it, Fives?”

Fives smiled. “Oh, well, I just wanted to let you know that Ahsoka and I are dating.”

Rex and Anakin stared at him, goggling at Fives’ audacity.

Jango nodded slowly and turned his attention to Ahsoka. “Is this true?” he asked simply.

Ahsoka nodded solemnly. “Yes sir. It is.”

Anakin stared at her, eyes wider than Fives had ever seen.

“For how long?” Jango asked.

“2 months,” Fives answered.

“No problems encountered?”

They both shook their heads.

“No, sir,” Ahsoka replied.

“Very well then,” Jango shrugged. “Carry on.”

Ahsoka’s whole face broke into a smile as he left the room. Fives grinned and squeezed her hand.

Rex’s jaw might as well have been dislocated. “No way,” he said. “No kriffing wa-You serious? You’re serious about dating?”

Fives and Ahsoka both nodded.

Anakin shook his head. “Well, okay then, Snips. Why didn’t you say so sooner?”

Ahsoka shrugged. “Fives and I agreed we’d tell you two together.”

“I can’t believe you’re serious,” Rex breathed, staring at the wall in disbelief.

Ahsoka chuckled. “No hard feelings though?”

“Yeah, no,” Rex sighed. “Just disbelief.”

“You’d better take good care of her though,” Anakin said to Fives, waving a threatening finger at him. “You don’t want me on your bad side.”

“No problem,” Fives nodded. “I’d protect this girl with my life.”

Anakin chuckled. “Yeah, I know. The threat was just obligatory. But, you know, now I really have to propose to Padmé.”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. “You’ll stay in the lead. Don’t worry.”

Anakin shrugged. “Better safe than sorry. And uh, no surprise babies, okay?”

Fives laughed. “We know! Don’t worry.”

“Both our dads are gonna give us this lecture,” Ahsoka said. “You don’t have to.”

“I just can’t believe you’re being serious,” Rex said, shaking his head.

.

🧡💙

[readthephible]

Take A Chance On Me (Revised) — Chapter 2 💋🥂

PART ONE | word count: 7872

part two of my test run for this fic!!! slowly but surely i have been working on this story as well as managing college :D i only want to post it on ao3 once i have fully ironed out the plot wrinkles and get well ahead on writing. slightly unrelated fun news: i might (probably) be pitching a scene from this fic for a SHORT FILM PRODUCTION. CAN YALL IMAGINE HOW FUCKING COOL THAT WOULD BE?!? NO BUT SERIOUSLY IMAGINE IT.....if it makes big waves, i can be like "this was originally a phanfic lol B)" and WHAT IF DNP SEE ASOFVJFJIOSFFSJ anyway,,,,

please leave feedback if you feel so inclined. i love this universe with all my heart and any help expanding it is greatly appreciated<3 tags + story under the cut! (PS: tags are for the story as a whole, this chapter does not include smut)

Phil barely had enough time to adjust his shirt collar before getting dropped off in front of the completed Cat and Bear. Only months ago had he first gotten involved in the project, and he had  a surreal feeling seeing it come to fruition. 

An impressive line trailed out of the front doors, the club goers being checked and regulated by a few bouncers. The muffled music was pure noise, lyrics and notes indistinguishable. Lights  flashed like they had minds of their own, colorful and sporadic illuminations across the street. 

To avoid stirring his nerves up any further, Phil sent PJ a quick text that he’d arrived.  

He checked his watch to see it was fifteen minutes before the show was supposed to start. God, that seemed too close. He was waiting in line with the last minute outfit he’d picked out, since last time PJ told him he had dressed much too formal, hoping that the line would move quickly.

As though Phil's thoughts had summoned them, PJ was bustling through, there to make sure he didn’t have to wait in line like everyone else. They guided Phil through the doors, informing him that he could enter through the back employee entrance if he wanted.

The music was louder inside, and while Phil expected it, it didn’t stop him from wincing upon first entering. The bass of the music felt like it was cutting through his skull. He blinked, adjusting to the sound, then looked around to survey the completed area. There didn’t seem to be any sort of show going on yet. The bar had plenty of people sitting on the stools, the few tables on the opposite wall of the stage were all full, and groups of friends leaned against the walls to talk.

“You good?” PJ asked Phil, who stood awkwardly in place once PJ had stopped moving.

“Uh…yeah, it’s just loud,” Phil yelled over the music, nodding as he looked around.

PJ chuckled, “It’s a club, Phil! I gotta go, but make sure you get your tip money from an ATM. Cheers!”

“Tip money? Wait, Peej—“

PJ was lost in the crowd, making his way back behind the employees only hallway and presumably towards the dressing room.

Meekly, Phil retrieved cash from an ATM, thankful that there were multiple employees hanging around the area. After tucking the money into his wallet, he went up to the bar and ordered water with a lemon.

Looking around, the club’s walls were mainly black with silver diagonal stripes, colorful LED strips aligning them like a movie theater, and various tables with sofa chairs or booth seats. Some people wore body glitter, wigs, and eccentric makeup, while others wore more casual clothing like Phil was.

Phil squeezed the lemon into his water, not yet in the mood to actually drink something. He tended to not do so, only at a work party or friend’s party, on the rare occasion he was invited to something—drinking alone felt pathetic. He didn’t even know for sure if he owned any alcohol at the moment.

It’d been a long time since he’d done anything outside of work. But Phil liked working. He liked his coworkers and his steady, often easy going job. Many would call it monotonous, but Phil appreciated the routine, which rattled his discomfort to the newness of the club scene he was surrounded with. His business casual clothing felt out of place, stitched with too much formality to fit into the environment.

The show was supposed to start at 9, but it was nearing 9:15 when Phil checked his watch again. 

He watched a few younger guys with the logo of the bar on their cropped shirts usher audience members to back away from the edge of the stage. It was early in the night, which seemed to make them easier to manage. Then, finally, an announcer yelled through the speakers.

Phil looked around, deciding whether or not he should get up and get closer, the crowd looking daunting.

“You can keep your seat if you want. The performers will be walking around a lot,” a bartender said, walking over to his area, “Can you see okay?”

Phil turned in his stool to say, “Yeah.”

The bartender took the time to neaten up the counter space around him, pausing to look at his unsure expression.

“First drag show?”

“Oh…uh…yeah, it is,” Phil replied to them.

Phil could see that the bartender was dressed completely goth, with dramatic makeup and fluffy hair. They stomped behind the counter in platform shoes and made people’s drinks as easily as breathing. 

“You’re not gonna have any fun being so tense, just enjoy the show.”

“Right.”

“And you don’t seem like the type of guy to do this, but I tell everyone...don’t touch them unless they invite you to.”

“Got it, thank you,” Phil said, holding out his hand then looking at the bartender’s name tag, “Mars?”

“Yeah, Mars,” the bartender smiled and shook Phil’s hand back, “I use they/them pronouns, by the way. Your name?”

“Phil,” he said simply, then followed up with, “He/him. And speaking of pronouns, what should I call the drag queens?”

“She or they is fine for most of them,” Mars said, “I haven’t met all of them, but it’s always safe to use they. And you can always ask.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

As soon as he turned back around, the lights went down in the club and people crowded around, cheering and watching the performers of the night grace the stage.

His eyes went back and forth to take it in. All of them were very tall, especially with their heels and platforms on. There were four in total that were going to be performing, and they all lined up—posing, smiling, and waving to the crowd. 

It was hard to hear exactly what the queen hosting the show was saying, but Phil assumed they were announcing the stage names and making jokes, based on how the crowd was reacting.

He wondered how long PJ was expecting him to stay. Mentally, Phil had a timer for how long he could tolerate social interactions like this, especially ones at such a high capacity like at this club. He almost started plotting out his plan to leave, until he realized.

The brunet.

They were performing tonight.

The speed of Phil’s heart seemed to increase as he took in everything he saw—they wore a pretty, long, black sparkly dress, and the straps were super thin. On their head was a large wig—waves of deep brown cascaded down the back across their shoulders, looking soft to the touch. Heels made them super tall, and they seemed to be gazing out at the crowd, hands on their hips in a confident stance.

Their choice in makeup looked gorgeous on them. Shiny, silver eyelids with smokey liner and shadow, deep maroon lipstick overdrawn, bright platinum toned highlighter on their nose and cheekbones, and dangling earrings hung from their lobes.

For a second, Phil’s focus trailed off, and he imagined dancing with them later into the night. Why was he already going so far as to daydream about the person? He didn’t even know how to fucking dance, and they hadn’t even…looked at him.

As if reading his mind, they looked right at him. Undeniably and curiously, the performer looked at Phil. They even made eye contact for a second, the fleeting look bringing warmth into his cheeks.

Alas, the brunet covered the striking stage lights from their eyes and peered closer at Phil.

—

The performances of the others admittedly passed in a blur. Phil still tipped them, of course, and sang along if he knew the songs they were lip syncing to. He caught a few of their names, but quickly learned that the mystery brunet he had interest in was Daniel Howell.

Whether or not that was a stage name, Phil was curious. But his attention was soon drawn away from the thought when they came up to perform to Nasty by Janet Jackson, seemingly the last show of the night.

Daniel had changed into a sleeveless black leotard with ruffles. Their collarbones and shoulders were being shown off as they ran their hand across them, wearing black glittery nails. With a smile, Daniel poofed up a perfectly styled wig, long and flowy brown with volume as they stomped across the stage with thigh high black boots. They posed with their hand up in the air, pulling a sassy face.

Phil was mesmerized throughout the whole song. The world felt like it was in slow motion, the only indications that time was actually passing were from the synchronized movements Daniel made, following the beats like they had rehearsed them to perfection. Like a magnet, the spot light was on them, casting a shadow of a beautiful silhouette onto the stage. 

They knew how to use their body—shaking their lips or their ass, stretching out their legs, back, and arms, sliding across the stage so elegantly. And not just the stage—they even grabbed onto the rods of the truss, using it as a steady prop to dance against. 

Conveniently, Daniel was headed towards him during the bridge of the song, stomping like the world was their own. It was a stark contrast to how Phil felt, intimidated by the loud music, scantily dressed people, and the ease at which Daniel moved. Phil’s hands trembled to open his wallet, a problem he hadn’t encountered with any of the other performers. He flipped through quickly, in search of the highest cash bill he had to offer—a fifty. 

Fuck, they deserved way more, he was sure of it, but there was no chance in hell he’d be able to get to the ATM in time. All he could do was hope he’d get to meet with Daniel later, and hope that the fifty he waved in front of them wasn’t insulting.

As soon as the note caught their attention, Daniel’s eyes went wide and their smile beamed. Phil felt his heart skip a beat. They graciously accepted the note, making sure to pay attention to him as they added it to a wad of tips.

Swaying their hips and holding Phil’s hand gently, they looked into his eyes—Phil’s heart was soaring, his legs were shaky, his cheeks were amber. Daniel brought Phil’s hand up to their lips to place a kiss on it, which left a lipstick print, then slowly pulled away, tickling him with their painted black nails as they stomped off. 

Biting his lip, Phil watched Daniel’s hips move back and forth as they stepped back up onto the stage. After finishing the song with more gracious movements of their beautiful body, they placed the wad of tips in the plastic tub that one of the workers at the bar took to the back, aside from the fifty pound note, which was stuffed into the top of their costume. Daniel pulled it up over their chest, their bottom lip sucked in and eyes casting a wink towards Phil.

—

At the end of the show, all of the performers were back on stage, each of them holding a shot glass. The host introduced the performers again, Daniel being last in the announcement. 

They awkwardly smiled as the attention was on them. PJ had taken photos of each performer with a professional camera, and the other queens encouraged Daniel to pose. After a few pictures, someone handed them a microphone.

“What, why—okay, fine, I’ll talk,” Daniel said, “Thank you everyone for coming out tonight! We appreciate you taking the time to check us out, and uh…let’s try these shots, hm?”

Phil smiled awkwardly, less focused on what Daniel was saying, but instead the soothing nature of their voice. The performers took their shots, coughing and grimacing afterwards, making Phil chuckle a little.

“What the fuck is that? Battery acid?” one of the queens coughed. Daniel threw the drink back, making a similar face.

“That was strong, bloody hell,” Daniel complained, then sarcastically said, “I mean, it was lovely! Very enjoyable! Everyone should go to the bar.”

When the crowd was silent, they spoke again.

“Seriously. Go get a fucking drink or I’ll lose my job,” they scolded in a sassy tone, making everyone laugh.

Phil still hadn’t drank anything besides water. A worker came by to pick up the empty shot glasses from the performers, and then Daniel was talking again.

“Thank you to everyone for coming. We appreciate everyone’s support. And be sure to get a ride home if you are intoxicated,” Daniel said cheerfully, then waved at everyone as they left the stage.

The host had a bit more to say, then music started to fade in, gradually rising to a high volume. Colorful flashes replaced the stark white stage lights that had been on for the past hour.

Normally, Phil would have left by then. If it were any other social event, he wouldn’t have been more than eager to head out and get to bed. But he couldn’t just leave without talking to Daniel at least once, he still had their lipstick on his hand.

Their lipstick. Fuck.

Phil definitely needed to address this new revelation he’d discovered about himself. He couldn’t, realistically, recall a time ever in his life where he found himself attracted to people who usually wore makeup. Questions about the validity of his label—one that had comforted him for years when he accepted it and lived his life as it—suddenly struck, and fuck, he needed something stronger than water. Something with more taste so he could at least attempt to get his shit together before he got a chance to speak to Daniel.

“Hey Mars, could I get…like, any fruity cocktail you have?” Phil asked when the bartender had a moment. Soon, a cold, tangy drink was in front of him. He took his time being mindful about each taste, deciding that there wasn’t really anything he could do at the moment to fix his worries about his identity. 

That meant he could at least enjoy the night, but it also meant that the issue would be looming above his head until he did do something about it. But what was it that he wanted to do? Take another ‘Am I Gay?’ test and see if the results had changed since he was fourteen?

He’d have to remember to bring it up to his therapist. He had more important things to do, like figuring out how to strike up a conversation with Daniel, somehow.

As he took a sip of his drink, Phil was tapped on the shoulder. 

“Hey.”

Phil nearly choked, seeing Daniel standing behind him, smiling goofily.

“Can I sit?”

“Um, hi,” Phil greeted, blushing and setting his glass down, “Of course, go ahead.”

Daniel’s grin was bright and welcoming as they sat on a barstool beside Phil. They glanced down to Phil’s hand, seeing their lipstick print still on the back of it. If they had any thoughts, they didn’t say them out loud, but their knowing look said a thousand things.

“I, uh, wanted to thank you for the tip. I know you’re one of our investors, but you’re also one of PJ’s friends, right?”

“Mhm,” he introduced himself, “Phil Lester, the boring businessman friend.”

“I wouldn’t say boring. You’re cool enough to come to a drag show,” Daniel noted, pushing the hair of their wig over their shoulder, “How long have you been friends with PJ?”

“A long time,” Phil answered, “Since university, and I’m old, so it’s been a while.”

Daniel smiled, but soon squinted and gave Phil a look over.

“You don’t look that old. You’re probably, what, thirty…four?”

“Seven.”

“Okay, I was trying to be gracious, but you look a lot older than seven, mate,” Daniel teased, making Phil laugh and blush a little, “Thirty seven’s not old, though. Only a few years older than me.”

“Older than a lot of the people here,” Phil mentioned passively.

“And yet, not the oldest,” Daniel reassured, then ordered themself a drink titled The Princess, which was quick to arrive on the counter in front of them.

Phil had the urge to mend the break in conversation. He awkwardly apologized, “I’m sorry I didn’t tip enough.”

“You gave me a fifty pound tip, you spoon,” Daniel reminded Phil as they sipped from their straw with a wide grin, “That’s a big tip for a drag queen…aaand that’s what she said.”

Phil watched the crinkles of Daniel’s eyes as their loud, boisterous laugh filled the immediate area. He loved when a person could laugh at their own jokes, and god, their laugh was contagious.

“Did you enjoy the show, Mr. Lester?”

Phil blushed at Daniel addressing him so formally, giving them a pointed look as he replied, “Just Phil is fine, and…it was…my first show.”

“That’s not what I asked, Phil,” Daniel quipped, sipping their drink.

They really enjoyed teasing him, huh?

“O-Oh, I mean—“ Phil stuttered, “It was great. A lot to take in, but extremely impressive. Especially yours…you’re a really good dancer. I was, uh…like I said, worried that the tip wasn’t going to be enough.”

“Not enough? Hell, there have been times in my life where I was thankful for someone to give me ten pence! Let alone fifty quid!” Daniel exclaimed, then did a hilarious impression of an old English woman begging for ‘shillings’, which had Phil doubling over with stomach pain.

“When I say thank you, I mean it,” Daniel clarified afterward, “It’s very generous, and no, you do not need to worry about that not being enough, it’s plenty.”

Phil nodded, not quite sure where to carry the conversation next. He was a fucking public relations master at work, why did suddenly putting an absurdly pretty person in front of him cease his abilities to none?

“I…I like your hair,” Phil said, then mentally slapped himself in the face at how ridiculously pathetic that was to say.

“Oh, this old thing? Yeah, I haven’t worn her in a while, but she’s usually good about not giving me a headache at the end of the night, so I thought, why not?” Daniel replied, very interested in the wig on their head for a few moments, but it gave Phil a break from being looked at by someone he found intimidating. 

Phil couldn’t believe that the same person he’d had his thoughts dwell to since the weeks he’d first visited the bar was sitting right beside him. Surely he was dreaming.

“Does it actually hurt?” Phil asked.

“I mean, it’s glued to my fucking head,” they answered, “And if the wig is heavy, and it’s been a long day, then yes, it can give me horrific migraines.”

“I get bad migraines too. I sometimes have to wear my glasses even when I don’t want to, or try these weird treatments. It sucks when the majority of my interests revolve around a screen.”

“Right?” Daniel added, “Wearing heels can give you blisters, washing too often can give you infections, not cleaning your brushes enough causes weird skin outbreaks, tucking too long can give you aches in the weirdest places. Drag is not for the weak.”

Phil nodded, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“Okay, so I picked up on the thing about the wig, the heels, the washing…what’s the last one?”

“Oh, dear.”

Daniel rested their cheek on their fist in curiosity, taking the liberty to explain—well, ruin—something for Phil. He felt wildly uncomfortable after that, but still laughed through it, not expecting himself to be hyper aware of his own crotch so early in front of Daniel.

At least Daniel found it funny, having to grip onto the counter for dear life so they wouldn’t tumble to the floor with how hard they were laughing.

“I don’t know anything about drag queens,” Phil admitted once he finally caught his breath, “PJ’s told me a little bit, but I don’t know most of it.”

Nodding, Daniel said, “I can tell. Ask away. You have one right in front of you.”

“Are you sure?” Phil asked, “I do, actually, have more questions…but I’m sure you have more important things to do…”

“No, no, you’re fine,” Daniel assured, “I've been asked some of the most personal, invasive questions that the English language offers, so don’t worry about offending me, either. Not many things can offend us, anyway. And you don’t seem like the kind of guy to ask weirdly personal shit.”

“Okay. Uh…why drag?”

Smiling, Daniel looked down at their drink, “Mmm…a lot of reasons. Channel my creativity, find ways to showcase my interests and passions in a really unique art form. I actually really enjoy the activism side of it, too. I get to live a different life for a while, outside of the one I usually live. Like, she—“ they gestured up and down their whole body as they spoke, “Doesn’t have to worry about any of the other shit happening in the other version of myself’s life, you know? And this persona gives me a lot of confidence. I’m a Gemini and I was a theater kid, so of course I picked a job where I can get paid for playing a character.”

“That…makes sense,” Phil said.

“She’s not entirely a character, but she’s definitely a higher, better version of myself. I get to choose to make a political statement one night, an art piece the next, make people laugh, or literally if I want to just feel sexy, I’ll throw on lingerie. It’s like making myself into a Barbie doll. But that’s my personal story. If you want a general consensus, because I know you’re more of a business-y type,” Daniel said, pointing at Phil and nearly poking his nose, “You aren’t gonna get one. Drag is very personal. Everyone is going to have their own reasons and intentions behind what they do. If anyone says they’re in it for the money, they’re either lying, or a bad performer. No one in their right mind is in this for the money. They’re in it because they absolutely have to express themselves, so they don’t go crazy.”

Phil nodded, finding their answer absolutely fascinating. He could tell how much it all meant to Daniel, by the way they talked about it so passionately with both admiration and genuine truth. 

“Not to say that we don’t greatly appreciate money and aren’t greedy little rats half the time,” they joked.

“You’ve…insinuated it doesn’t pay well?”

“Mmm. Complicated answer to a complicated question,”  Daniel replied, “In the beginning, it didn’t. Then I made more of a name for myself and started making money, went through a period where I wasn’t but we don’t need to talk about that, and now I’m here. Blessed and booked, honey.”

“Oh, so you have to work a lot to get to a good place…money wise?” Phil asked. 

Daniel nodded and said, “Oh for sure. Whenever I first started, it was a new gig every night. Spent quite a lot of them wondering if this would ever be sustainable for me, and there were two years I basically performed for free, but I kept at it and I’m here today. This is the main source of income for me, but sometimes I go work other places.”

“Sounds a lot like climbing the corporate ladder, I’ve been there. Internships are terrible, in case you were wondering.” Phil joked, intentionally rolling his eyes to emphasize his distaste, “So do you work as often now? I’ve found I have to work less as I’ve kept working my way up.”

Daniel laughed, taking a sip of their drink as they teased, “Doesn’t seem to stop you from working all the time anyway, Philly. I’ve seen you prancing about here in your suits.”

Phil could only blush at that. The pet name, the call out, the way they were arching their back to lean against the countertop. It was all so…enchanting.

“But yes, I work a lot less these days. Luckily, I don’t have to do double bookings much anymore. Weekends of course, but Mondays and Tuesdays are usually when I’m not working. Even then, a lot of the time I’m rehearsing for shows, writing standup, getting fittings for costumes when I can afford it or have a special occasion coming up. Miss Daniel is very high maintenance, I’ll tell you that much. What days of the week do you work, hm?” 

“Uh, weekdays,” Phil said, still being awkward and anxious for some reason. He didn’t know why, the only reason he could pinpoint was that he was subconsciously wanting to impress them. “Nine to five, mostly.”

“Interesting,” Daniel said with a cheeky smile.

Phil’s initial thought was that no it fucking wasn’t, but it was nice of Daniel to pretend they were actually that interested. He played with his hands on the table, suddenly feeling a bit more shy, “It’s not that interesting, actually. I like the routine, but it’s much more boring than your job, Daniel.”

They nodded, a smirk growing as they replied to Phil.

“That’s okay. By the way, most people call me Dan, but you can call me whatever you want,” they purred, emphasizing with a few flutters of their lashes and a bite of their lip. 

Okay, they had to know what they were doing.

Phil felt thankful he’d invested in the dim lighting this part of the club offered, hoping that the ones illuminating from around the counter didn’t give away his fluster. Still, he tried to match their confident, unwithheld ability to flirt, wondering what he’d done to have Dan redirecting the tone of conversation.

“Dan, okay,” Phil watched them smirk, “Can I ask you another question, Dan?”

“Fire away.”

Phil still felt awkward asking even though the bartender had said it was okay. He disregarded the itching feeling of embarrassment under his skin and asked, “What are your pronouns?”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you wouldn’t know. Sorry, any are fine. I’m not that strict about it. I’m just kind of like a…formless blob,” they answered, punctuating with a small smile, “She is fine to use while I’m in drag. And, just so you know, he is fine when I’m not in drag…if the rest of the night goes how I intend it to.”

Phil didn’t know what sensation was more glaringly obvious, the flare of heat in his face or the tightness in his abdomen. 

“A-Alright,” Phil stuttered, trying to catch up with the missed beats, “If I ever get it wrong just tell me.” 

He genuinely did care about Daniel’s pronouns, but the overwhelm of club ambience paired with intimidation had him struggling to maintain eye contact.

Dan chuckled, “I will. What are yours?”

“He/him,” Phil replied.

“Got it. Can I ask you a question this time?” Dan asked, smiling coyly as they played with one of their curls.

Phil watched her fingers, completely fascinated. Looking at Dan’s eyes for so long was starting to get overwhelming.

“Go ahead.”

“Why haven’t you drank for real yet on this fine evening?” Dan asked, playfully bouncing a curl. It sprung back towards her face, then she was coiling it around her finger again.

“I’ve had this fruity thing,” Phil fakely pouted, only now noticing how full his glass still was. 

“Oh come on, you’ve had like two fucking sips,” Dan giggled, “Let loose a little.”

“In truth, I’m a bit of a lightweight,” Phil blushed, having admitted it.

Dan cackled, placing a hand on his shoulder briefly to tease, “Aw poor, Philly. That’s okay, it happens to the best of us. Least you can have a good time for twenty quid.”

Phil shrugged, biting back a smile, “May I buy you a drink?” 

“Pour moi?” Dan jokingly gasped, “Are you trying to get me drunk instead? I’ll have you know I’m basically a professional heavyweight drinker. I’d be five hundred pounds deep if I actually wanted to feel something.” 

Phil laughed at that, relaxing some, “Well if you want a drink despite that, I’ll still buy you one…we can…call it an opening night gift?”

“If you insist, Mr. Lester,” Dan said, batting their lashes and pushing hair out of their face. The Princess drink was empty, so Dan lightly scooted it towards Mars who took it as they walked past. Dan nodded at them as a thank you. As it happened, Phil momentarily envied the smoothness of the action, trained gestures from years of doing so. 

“What would you like, then?” Phil asked, plucking a drink menu from nearby and trying to gracefully hand it to Dan.

“Hmm...I would like…” her voice trailed off as she looked down at the drink menu. They only glanced for a moment before looking up at Phil and poking him in the shoulder, “For you to pick.”

Phil froze, looking with concern, “What if you don’t like it?” 

Dan chuckled, waving a hand dismissively.

Phil began reading over the menu, overwhelmed by the neverending list of options. Dan then placed her hand over one section, making Phil look up at them. For a second, the thought occurred that Dan wanted to hold hands, but surely he was reading that incorrectly.

“What? Why do you look so scared? I’m only covering the whisky because I don’t prefer those,” Dan chuckled.

“There’s a lot to choose from is all…” Phil hesitated, not looking up from the menu. His hand tapped the table beside where he was anxiously reading.

Dan placed a gentle hand on top of his, “Relax there, bub. It’s okay. I like all of the drinks.” 

Phil exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding, then asked, “Do you like…Bloody Marys?” 

“Oh yeah,” she mused, “That’s a good choice. I like the shrimp and vegetables they throw on top here, it’s a good little snack.”

Phil nodded as the bartender came by, and he ordered Dan’s drink. Dan removed their hand from Phil’s, grabbing the menu and tucking it back in the nearest bar organizer. Phil missed the touch as soon as it was gone.

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” she giggled and teased, “Sorry to overwhelm you, though.”

Dan turned their head to silently watch the bartender in action. Once Dan’s drink was placed in front of her, she ordered a drink for Phil, too.

“You didn’t have to get me one,” Phil whined a bit, feeling guilty. 

Dan ignored him, making a couple of hand gestures to the bartender before the drink slid across the counter.

“Well, you may not be trying to get me drunk, but I never said I felt the same way about you,” Dan said with a wink, curling a strand of hair with her finger again. Phil’s cheeks began to burn, and he took a sip from the drink that was fucking strong. He tried to play it cool, but Dan could clearly tell he was uncomfortable.

Dan giggled at his reaction, reaching out to rub his side. Their tone was lighter as they said, “You don’t actually have to drink it if you’re seriously not comfortable with it. I don’t want to overstep, but I also want you to have fun, Philly.”

“I am having fun, it’s okay,” Phil smiled at her softly. It was nice that they actually cared about making sure he felt comfortable, Phil had had far too many experiences where he felt his boundaries were overstepped, especially at clubs. It didn’t feel that way with Dan at all though, which he was very grateful for.

He admired Dan as they ate some of the vegetables from the top of their Bloody Mary. It was then he noticed Dan’s hand still on his side. Dan looked unbothered for a moment until Phil watched her realize it, too—causing her to slowly retract her hand.

They sat in silence, eating the toppings of their drinks for a moment, giving Phil a moment to think. He really appreciated Dan taking all the time to answer his questions, not expecting to feel so welcome in a place like this. Usually, Phil didn’t enjoy going to clubs this much. He typically found them loud, smelly, and a sensory nightmare. 

Phil twirled his straw in his drink, before looking up at Dan, who was already looking back before he had even looked up. It took him by surprise, but he said what he was thinking anyway, “I didn’t expect this to be such a nice experience, honestly.”

Dan’s brow furrowed slightly, but her smile didn’t falter as she asked, “How so?”

“I wasn’t expecting you to be this nice,” Phil admitted.

Dan chuckled, tilting her head in an adorable confusion, “Me? Or drag queens in general?”

Phil shrugged a bit and asked, “Is both an option?”

“I…think it can be,” Dan replied, smiling at him softly, “But it’s good to know that’s how you feel about me. Hopefully you’ll find the other nice things I have to offer.”

Before Phil could fully react, another queen approached them. They wore a blonde, slicked-back wig, and Phil had only briefly seen them dancing whenever he needed a break from being intimidated by Dan.

“Danny! Come dance with us!” they exclaimed. 

Dan’s confident, sarcastic persona resurfaced so that she could tease her friend. 

“Well hello to you too, A’Whora,” she yelled back to the queen, who was barely wearing anything at all.

Phil thought it was very interesting to watch Dan be able to switch up their personality so quickly. It was a talent that Phil definitely did not have.

The queen stomped over to scoff, “Don’t start with that, I’m just trying to make sure you aren’t being lame!”

“I’m having a conversation, if you couldn’t tell,” Dan sassed, flipping their hair for dramatic effect.

“Bring the hunk, too! It’ll be a good time!” the queen replied, wiggling their eyebrows at Phil before strutting back to the dance floor.

Phil chuckled lightly, half out of awkwardness, and half because he genuinely found it a bit funny.

Dan turned back to face Phil, “I’m so sorry about her. I promise you, she’s really nice too! Would you want to go dance with me?” 

Phil felt nervous at the proposition, “I don’t really know how…” 

“I used to be terrible too, it’ll still be fun!” Dan said, and okay, maybe her smile could brighten the darkest of rooms and, quite possibly, convince Phil to do something as embarrassing as dancing in public. 

Phil was having a very difficult time with the thought of telling that smile no. He pondered for a moment, taking a sip of his drink.

“I do need to go to the bathroom, though.”

“You don’t have to ask me permission. Go piss, girl.”

That caught Phil extremely off guard and he almost doubled over laughing. While he was distracted, Dan reached out to grab Phil’s hand—the same one with the lipstick print from before—and kissed it again.

An intense, warm blush washed over his face as Dan dramatically kissed it, yet again leaving behind another print and fluttering her lashes. 

“I’ll be dancing. Come find me.”

“All of this talking and not even a real kiss?” Phil asked, feeling emboldened all of the sudden.

Dan smiled back, booping him on the nose, “Not if you’re too impatient, honey.”

She smiled, winking at Phil then turning to leave. Phil watched her disappear into the crowd before walking towards the bathrooms. 

Once inside, he found it empty and he took a deep breath. A blurry recollection of what had just happened played in his head, less recollective of the conversation itself and more of the fine details. How passionate Dan had been talking about certain topics, that boisterous laugh, that sweet tone and side rub when comforting Phil from a wickedly strong drink. He looked at himself long and hard in the mirror, painfully aware of what he had just agreed to, and acknowledging that he was an idiot for agreeing to it.

He had just managed to make a new friend, and they were having fun clubbing together. And Phil had agreed to meet them on the dance floor. Nothing else to see there.

Unfortunately, it was far from that simple. Dan was not some person he’d just met—they worked at the business Phil had officially invested in. Phil’s public presence was mostly wholesome, from charity events and philanthropic donations while still performing well in a money making, corporate sense. A stake in a nightclub was already out of Phil’s usual wheelhouse in comparison to supporting animals or underprivileged youths. And the second he’d laid eyes on Dan, every ounce of professionalism he had brought with him at the start of the night had been thrown out the fucking window.

It wasn’t as simple as talking or dancing. It was flirting, it was touching, it was drinking. It was…risky.

Phil took a deep breath, took care of his business, and went back out on the main floor. The energy was still there. Loud music, bright flashing lights, and vivacious groups of people contrasted harshly against Phil’s deflated mood.

“Oh, Phil, hey!”

PJ, not now, nearly made its way past Phil’s lips. But he held his tongue with all the might in the world.

“Hey, Peej,” he tried to say without exasperation, “How’s it going?”

“Great, I reckon!” PJ practically cheered, “This turnout is amazing!”

“Yeah, it really is,” Phil said. Awkwardly sticking his thumbs in his pockets, he rocked back and forth to listen to PJ talk at him some more.

“I can’t wait for our next business meeting. I have so many ideas to share with you.”

“That’s great, I can’t wait to hear them!” Phil felt bad for sounding so fake, really. He wasn’t supposed to be here to be distracted by Daniel, but couldn’t help his annoyance that PJ was getting in the way. Luckily, the conversation ceased from there, aside from goodbyes.

After talking to PJ, he went straight to the bar, ordered a drink, and as he waited for it to be prepared, he turned his head to find Dan. 

There were so many people on the dance floor, and multiple drag queens towering over the crowd. Yet, somehow, Dan was easy to spot, dancing an actual routine as if she owned the place. A shining star, eclipsing the rest of the people shoved together.

Mars slid his drink across the bar, and he thanked them before chugging about half of it. He took a deep breath, sipped the rest more thoughtfully, then left the glass on the counter and went into the crowd.

Phil checked the time on his phone as he walked over, to see that it was nearly midnight already. A remix of a song he liked playing all over the club filled him with the last bit of confidence he needed. With a pep in his step, Phil walked across the dance floor to Daniel, who was beside their friends. Daniel spun around and they nearly bumped into each other. 

“Oh, hey,” Dan greeted, smiling widely, “You ready to dance?”

When Phil shook his head, Dan protested with a laugh, taking his hands and moving them. She looked into his eyes, dancing and lip syncing. Dan let go and spun, giggling, before grabbing Phil’s hands again and getting a lot closer to him. They were almost chest to chest now, if it weren’t for Dan’s extended height.

“Hi,” Dan said with a giggle. Phil was starting to realize that Dan laughed flirtatiously at nearly everything he did or said. It was really cute.

“Hi,” he answered. The song blaring from the speaker transitioned into another. 

Although towering above him, Dan looked incredible. Courage and confidence seemed to radiate with every breath she took, and Phil had to remind himself that he just needed enough bravery to be in Dan’s presence—everything else after that seemed tolerable. Dan continued to guide him to dance in different ways, encouraging him even if he felt like he did really badly.

Dan was talking, but not a word made its way to Phil’s ears. Instead, he was mesmerized by their gorgeous face and intoxicating perfume. After speaking, she looked down at him expectantly for an answer.

“Oh, ‘m sorry, I didn’t really hear you because of the music,” Phil lied.

“I was just saying that A’Whora was right, dancing would be fun. Especially with a ‘hunk’ like you,” Dan giggled again, rolling their eyes as they recalled the other queen’s antics.

Phil felt a blush creeping up his neck, but laughed anyway.

They continued to dance for a while, and as they did, Phil had much more of a blast than he had first anticipated. The alcohol melted his nerves like ice, his own confidence beginning to emerge like a morning’s sunrise. He didn’t even feel like he was embarrassing Dan by poorly attempting to dance. 

Moments with Dan were intimate and flirty, but also filled with jokes, short stories, tripping, and awkward moments. Dan eventually took off their shoes and had someone take them somewhere so they could be closer to Phil’s height. Songs would come on that Phil knew the lyrics to and Dan would be surprised as they sang or lip synced it together.

“You know this song?” Dan asked loudly at one point, “I’ve always thought of it as a hidden gem.”

“I’m still gay!” Phil yelled over the music, “I just didn’t know about drag queens.”

Dan laughed loudly, squeezing his bicep.

“What?” Phil chuckled.

“You just screamed ‘I’m still gay’,” Dan laughed, “It’s funny.”

“Oh, right,” he said, blushing slightly. 

“I’M STILL GAY!” Dan screamed, and because of the loud music and talking, her announcement barely turned any heads. She laughed hysterically.

“I’M GAY!” Phil added, laughing with them, “STILL!”

That made Dan laugh even harder, so much so that she was sarcastically getting onto Phil for ruining her mascara from tears of laughter. Some more songs cycled through, and they were perfectly shielded from the crowd, in their own personal bubble. 

However, the liquid courage didn’t overshadow his general discomfort of an extremely extroverted environment for as long as he would’ve hoped. He tried his best to mask it from Dan, not wanting his discomfort to translate and sour the mood. But he was growing tired of sweaty people with barely any clothes on rubbing against him to pass through, the strobe lights that made his eyes sting, and the music was starting to hurt his ears. 

“You okay?” Dan yelled over the crowd so Phil could hear.

Shit.

Phil quietly nodded, but thankfully instead of continuing to dance, they reached to touch his lower back. Dan shooed off anyone that tried to engage in conversation with her as she led Phil out of the crowd and into a quieter area—the VIP lounge.

There were much less people on the sleek leather booths, the few speakers in the corner weren’t pumping out music nearly as loudly, and it was better maintained by the waitstaff, who were actively cleaning tables and picking up leftover glasses. Sure, there were plenty of handsy couples, but it was the closest he’d get to a casual area besides hiding in the back.

“Thank you,” Phil eventually replied, then asked again, “Can I be honest?”

“Yeah, what’s up? Are you sure you’re okay?” Dan’s voice somehow managed to cut through the chaotic noise.

“I’m starting to get really overwhelmed,” he admitted, and then the sounds were muffled—Dan had placed her hands over his ears. 

The touch didn’t tip him over the edge, instead grounding him and calming him down a bit, and the reduced sound helped. Dan smelled really good, overpowering the sourness of alcohol in the air.  Their  hands were really warm and soft as they clearly tried their best to comfort him. Phil couldn’t make eye contact, but he knew Dan was looking at him, trying to read his expression. 

“I totally get that,” Dan sympathized, “Is this helpful?”

“Yeah, it is. Thank you,” he said. Barely noticing that he’d been bouncing on his feet, he tried to stop, but caved in. Dan had stayed with him all night, despite seeing him looking awkward plenty of times already.

“You’re so fucking adorable,” she said after a while, and Phil managed to look at her then, checking to see if there was sincerity behind it. The answer was yes.

He wondered if the warmth rising in his cheeks was evident, hoping Dan wouldn’t feel his blush on their palms. 

She started to ask, “Would you…”

Phil looked in her general direction.

“Want to go somewhere else? With me?”

So much for trying to hide his blushing face.

“I’d really like that,” Phil said, as Dan nodded.

Slowly removing their hands from Phil’s face, Dan said, “Okay, let me get some bags ready. I’ll meet you near the back in like…five to ten minutes?”

“Okay.”

Dan nodded again in acknowledgment. “Would you be able to get a lift while I get ready to go?”

“S-Sure,” Phil agreed, sitting at the bar while Dan went back to the dressing room.

“Make sure you tell them to come around the back.”

When Dan returned, she had two large bags, one duffel bag over her shoulder and a rolling suitcase. They stood in the hallway that separated backstage from the rest of the club, signaling for Phil to follow them.

The hallway was incredibly narrow, twisting and turning the longer they walked down it. Phil didn’t remember the hallway being that long, but he had been drinking a bit, and Dan, like always, was distracting. Dan shoved open the doors to a back alley, and Phil took the handle of the rolling suitcase to help. She casually strutted out of the building.

“I told someone to distract PJ,” Dan admitted once they were outside, “So we don’t have to worry about him.”

“Oh, okay,” Phil responded.

It took him a few seconds to realize the silence as the two waited for a ride. Dan was still dressed completely in drag.

“Hey, sorry if this is weird for me to ask, but…will you be safe?”

Dan snapped their head to turn and look at Phil, extreme worry suddenly apparent in their eyes.

“Did you…change your mind?”

“No, no, I meant—“ Phil started to speak, almost caught off guard by how terrified Dan looked. “I’m…I’m sorry. I meant, like, you’re still in drag. I don’t have a problem with it, I’m just concerned if the driver will be weird or hateful or—“

Dan audibly exhaled a sigh of relief, looking down at the ground. He was mindlessly playing with a Hello Kitty luggage tag attached to the strap of his duffel.

After clearing his throat, Dan said, “Oh. Um, when drivers can accept their rides, they know this is a gay area, so they shouldn’t if they’re homophobic or weird. Worst case scenario, I have like, pepper spray and stuff.”

“Okay, I just wanted to make sure. I’m staying with you, don’t worry. But I also don’t want to force you, you can talk to me.”

They had a bit of a blank stare out into the dark alleyway, but nodded at Phil’s words.

[mochegato]

Whiplash

Roy surveyed the bar before making his way in.  It had a good size crowd, active but not boisterous, amiable but not overly friendly.  Definitely the kind of place he could drink in without having to worry about getting pulled into an unwelcome conversation, or a fight.  More importantly, there was an open spot at the bar… next to a beautiful woman.

He moved to take the spot quickly before anyone else realized their mistake at not taking it and ordered a drink.  Again, the universe seemed to have blessed him because the bartender hadn’t been paying attention and had set his drink down so close to the woman’s drink it was almost touching hers.  He waited a beat then reached for his drink at the same time as the woman, which he may or may not have been, but totally was, intentional.  She yanked her hand back like she was afraid he’d snap at her.  “Sorry.”

He shot her his most charming, winning smile.  “No, it’s completely my fault.  I should have been watching where I was reaching.”  He took a sip of his drink to give her a chance to do the same or turn away if she had absolutely no interest, he couldn’t be the only one who had hoped to avoid conversation that night.  He had changed his mind as soon as he saw her, but that didn’t mean she had.

When she continued to smile in his direction, he took it as an invitation to continue.  “My name is Roy,” he started, leaving a lull for her to fill in.

Instead, she hummed and held her drink up to toast him.  “Roy, what a beautiful name.”

He snorted.  Not the response he was expecting, but he had always appreciated a bit of snark.  “Right.  Something I hear all the time.  How beautiful and completely not red neck my name is.”

She smirked at him but quickly schooled her expression into faux seriousness.  “That’s good to hear.  You should hear it often.  Everyone should be told they’re special.”

“I would love to say that about your name,” he coaxed gently.

She shrugged; her eyes darted away as she took another sip.  “I’ve heard it before.  I don’t need to hear it again.  I’d rather hear about something I control, that I did.”

He nodded, pulling back slightly.  That was a feeling he could understand.  He wasn’t a fan of false flattery either… okay, maybe he was a fan of it from women he wanted to hook up with, but not from people he wanted a real relationship with and clearly, this woman wasn’t interested in sycophancy.  “That’s fair.” So, tell me what it is that you do.”

She snorted and raised a disbelieving eyebrow.  “Really?”

“Absolutely,” he nodded confidently.  He turned toward her to prove she had his full attention and waited patiently until she responded.

She looked him over appraisingly, like she wasn’t quite sure if he was worth the distraction from her drink.  “You first.”

Her voice held a hint of challenge that Roy simply could not back down from.  Well, he could, but where would the fun be in that.  “I’m a CIA agent,” he announced dramatically.

She rolled her eyes but then leaned closer.  “Ooohhh, an overt agent.”

He grinned and waved his hand dismissively while he took another sip.  “Secret agents are so Cold War.”

“Tore down the walls and the secrets,” she hummed.

His smile widened impossibly broader and clinked his glass to hers.  “Exactly!  How about you.  What do you do?”

She narrowed her eyes as she thought how to respond, but her lips quirked up in amusement and he knew she wouldn’t refuse.  “Create art,” she finally answered.  Roy nodded as he took in her response.  Again, not the response he’d been expecting.  He’d been expecting something snarky, but he couldn’t be upset about the honesty.  He started to respond but she continued before he could get a sound out.  “… and chaos.  More chaos than art if I’m being honest.”

He barked out a laugh and watched as she tipped her glass up to finish the last of her drink, her lips still quirked up, evidence that she was entirely too entertained with herself, which just made him want to draw her out more.  But when she turned back to face him, he could see it on her face, that she was going to end their time together.  He wasn’t willing to let her do that though.  Not yet.  Talking with her was the most fun he’d had in quite a while, and he really wanted to continue it.  “Let me buy you a drink.”

She eyed him amusedly then hummed and leaned back in her chair, eyes darting away an almost guilty look flashing across her face.  “I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Why not?” he asked.  His voice was kept intentionally light, non-accusatory, non-demanding.  He was having fun and he wanted to keep having fun not pressure her.

She kept her eyes on her glass as she responded, but her body continued to face him.  “Might give you the wrong idea.”

“Oh?  What idea is that?”  Again, his tone teasing and light.

She continued to watch the glass in her hand as if it might answer the question for her.  When no answer came forth after a full minute, she finally spoke up.  “That I'm looking for a relationship.”  He took a beat to register what she said.  He had loved their interaction so far and would love to try for a relationship, but he was also willing to take whatever she was willing to give him.

He opened his mouth to offer something less serious, but she cut in before he could.  “Or a situationship,” she continued, as if she could read his mind.  He bobbed his head to the side and opened his mouth again, but she cut in yet again.  “Or a one-night stand.”

He chuckled and nodded.  Message received crystal clear.  She was not interested in him.  But he still wanted to give one last push.  “And you're not?”

“I'm not. Not right now. Not yet,” she answered quietly.

He nodded and looked away to mask his disappointment.  When he looked back, any remaining disappointment dissolved.  Her eyes had unfocused, a flash of something close to the haunted look he was all too familiar with appeared and was gone almost instantaneously.  It was that look that convinced him she really did mean what she’d said.  It wasn’t him.  She was working through something on her own, but damn if he didn’t want to help her get through it and lose that haunted look.  “How about a non-committal drink?  No expectations, not even to talk.  Just to make your night better.  I'll even walk away while you drink it.”

“No.  I'm not ready for that either,” she finally returned her sad eyes to his.  “But thank you, sincerely.  You should stay.  I’ll walk away.  I wasn’t planning on being out long tonight anyway.”

Seeing the troubled look full on was harder than he expected, doubling his desire to make her smile.  “I didn’t mean to scare you off.  I’m sorry if I came on too strong.  I tend to talk without thinking… if I’m being honest, I do a lot of things without thinking.  It’s not uncommon,” he joked.

If nothing else, he could walk away feeling like he’d taken a step toward his goal, because her mirthless look dissolved into giggles.  “You absolutely did not… scare me off that is,” she assured him genuinely.  She took a moment to think about it, cocking her head to the side as she studied him.  “Or come on too strong.  In fact, you have been the highlight of my night, month… past few actually.  I’ve really enjoyed talking with you.”

“I’d give you my number for when you are ready… but I get the feeling you’re not ready for that either,” he offered.  There was a bit of hope in his gaze, her giggles earlier had been a good sign, but likely not enough.  Healing was never easy even for the healthiest people.

Her smile dampened, but she kept her eye contact, not shrinking from him this time.  “No.  But I do hope you have a good night.”

He reached out like he was going to pat her arm but pulled back at the last moment and patted the bar instead with a mirroring smile.  “You too, beautiful.”

He shifted his eyes to his glass to remove any pressure or make her leaving awkward.  And yes, he knew he should have shifted his body from facing her as well, but he didn’t want her to think he was dismissing her, leaving him in this awkward position, body open and face diverted.  If Oliver could see him, he’d be appalled at his lack of vigilance while leaving himself so open.  To be clear, he could still track movement around him, in fact, better than if he had fully turned to the bar, but Oliver never lost a chance to lecture him.

He didn’t regret the decision though, because from his periphery he could see her stand then hesitate, almost sitting back down, which got his heart racing at the possibility, but ultimately she pushed away from the bar only to pause so a crowd of people could pass.  He consciously forced himself to stop registering her movements and ordered another drink, giving himself a second to recover his pride.

Typically, he wouldn’t have let the rejection affect him, especially from a random woman in a random bar when he hadn’t been looking for anything anyway, and especially when she’d let him down so graciously, making it incredibly clear it wasn’t about him.  But he’d thought there was a connection and a spark and for a moment he’d had hope.

Suddenly, his world was rocked by a force colliding with him, pressing flush against his body and wrapping their arms around his middle in a tight hug before he could even react.  “Mon amor!  I missed you.”

Roy blinked down at the figure, his arms wrapping loosely around her before his conscious mind registered that it was the French Fire Flower who had launched herself into his arms.  Once his brain fully caught up with the situation, he smirked down at her.  “Not that I’m objecting, but I’m getting a bit of whiplash here.”

It was only then that he noted the alarm in her eyes.  “Please,” she pleaded quietly.

His arms tightened around her automatically, like a Pavlovian response to that combination of her wide eyes and anxious tone.  His eyes flicked over her shoulder and instantly spotted someone shoving people out of the way on their way toward them.  He kept his body and face pointed toward her but carefully tracked the man’s movements.  “That asshole the reason you’re not ready to date yet?”

She nodded so minutely he wouldn’t have picked up on it if he hadn’t also heard a whispered, “Yes.”

He leaned down like he was whispering sweet nothings to his long-missed lover, only partially pretending to be lost in her touch, as he tenderly ran his hands through her hair.  “How long ago was the breakup?”

She swallowed heavily and took a moment before she answered.  “A few months.  Um… like four.”

He grunted and leaned close enough for his lips to ghost over her ear.  “And he’s crawling back?”

“More like creeping back like Jason Voorhes,” she grumbled.  “Just keeps coming back no matter how many times I shut him out and more aggressively each time.”

“Hey, fucker!  Get your hands off my girlfriend!” the man roared the instant he broke through the last of the groups around them.

The moment the words started coming out of his mouth Roy could feel the woman freeze and almost cower away from his anger.  Roy eyed him up and down, an icy hardness in his gaze as he stood and pushed her slightly behind him, but still keeping her hugged up against his side.  The man was smaller than Roy, not in height, but in breadth.  Where the man was lithe and fit, Roy was muscular and solid.  The comparison became more apparent when Roy turned to face off against the man.  “Excuse me?” he growled.

To his credit, the man only slightly faltered, almost imperceptibly and seemed to recover quickly.  “I said,” he reiterated, standing up even taller to glare back at Roy, “Get.  Your.  Hands.  Off.  My.  Girlfriend.”

Roy could feel her groan more than hear it.  She opened her mouth to bite back but Roy interrupted before she could.  “I’ll touch my wife however and whenever I want to.  That’s why I married her in the first place.”

Her eyes widened and her body stiffened for just a moment, but thankfully she appeared to recover quickly, pasting on a smile and pretended to melt into his side.  It was convincing enough the tension could easily be written off as due to the confrontation, not an unexpected lie.

“You got fucking married?” He demanded glaring at her.  He tried to shove into her space, but Roy moved again moving in his path and stepping forward, forcing him to retreat a step, which only seemed to infuriate the man further.  He tried to peer around Roy to get close to her, but no matter how far he leaned, Roy met his movement.

“I did,” Roy answered with a cutting smile.

His eyes snapped to Roy’s.  It was almost comical how red his face got from those two words.  Roy’s smile got sharper at the reaction.  If there was one thing he’d always been good at, it was knowing how to piss someone else off.  “I wasn’t talking to you, asshole!”

At that comment, she refused to let Roy respond and piped up before he could.  “Do not call my husband an asshole,” she hissed.  Roy’s smile turned genuine and pulled her back into his side before dropped a kiss on the crown of her head.

“What the fuck!?!  Marinette, baby.  What is going on?  You… we were going to get married, have a family!  What about our five kids?  Baby, I still want them with you.”  His voice was velvety smooth, his eyes pleading and contrite.

Roy braced himself for Marinette to fall for it.  He wouldn’t blame her, really.  If Roy hadn’t seen ploys like it from spies trying to secure information and women trying to lure Dick into a relationship, he might have believed it was authentic as well.  But he was praying to whatever deity existed out there that she didn’t fall for it.  He didn’t know her well, but even if he hadn’t been able to tell she was creative, funny, kind, and sweet, nobody should end up with a dirtbag like that guy.

But even from their short interaction so far, he knew that she was all those things and more and deserved someone better.  She’d clearly known that at some point because she’d dropped his loser ass, but he knew from personal experience how easy it was to fall back into toxic relationships.  He squeezed her, hoping to transfer some strength, because if she fell for it, he had no idea how he was going to talk her out of it.

By some miracle, his effort seemed to have an effect.  Marinette stiffened in his arms and leaned into him for a second before lashing out at her ex, pushing into his space with all five foot four inches of her ready to fight.  “You wanted five kids, and if you still want them, I’d suggest trying for them with Sarah or Sandra, or whatever her name was.  I’m afraid I didn’t catch her name before she rushed out of the room to get dressed.”

Roy barely controlled his reaction, somehow managing to keep it to a rough exhale when he wanted to guffaw loud enough for the bouncer outside to hear him.  He squeezed her hip again, this time in a show of support and approval of her cheek and hoped she understood the message despite not knowing him well enough to have learned the difference in touches.

“Baby, I love you,” the ex cooed.  He reached out for Marinette to graze his fingers along her jaw but Marinette jerked her head back, inadvertently burrowing further into Roy’s chest.  The ex’s eyes narrowed at the action, but he quickly covered it with a penitent expression.  “It was just a mistake.  She was a mistake.  She meant nothing to me.”

“She clearly meant more to you than our relationship,” Marinette scoffed.  She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, which again brought her further into Roy’s embrace.

His lips thinned and his jaw tightened, but this time he was a few beats slower to mask it before responding.  “Baby, I…”

“Cheating on someone as amazing as her?” Roy cut in, drawing the ex’s attention to him instead of Marinette.  She wasn’t in this alone and he wasn’t going to let her face his ire alone.  “How stupid do you have to be?  I’ve been self-destructive before, and I mean self-destructive, but even at rock bottom, I wouldn’t have been that dumb.  But I guess there are just some guys that would cheat and some that wouldn’t.”

“You can stay the fuck out of this.  You don’t know me!” the ex roared at Roy, completely losing is composure and not even bothering to try to mask his anger and frustration like he had before.

“And I never will,” Roy granted with a slight taunt in his voice.

“And I wish I never did,” Marinette agreed.  She sighed heavily and lost the rigidity in her stance, slumping slightly and shifting some of her weight onto Roy, who shouldered it effortlessly.  “Leave, Noah.  This,” she motioned between them without meeting his eyes which were now wide in mock supplication, “is never happening.  We aren’t some star-crossed love story, riddled with misunderstandings and miscommunications.  You aren’t the romantic lead.  You’re the asshole I leave before my life gets better.”

His eyes instantly went from pleading to hard and hateful.  “Gets better,” he spit.  “You won’t be able to find better than what I gave you.  You were always a bitch I had to put up with.  I was only with you out of pity because nobody else would want you, not for more than a cheap fuck.  In two months, you’ll be alone again and crawling back because nobody else would ever really want you.”

“Okay, that’s it,” Roy growled.  He pushed Marinette behind him and punched Noah in one smooth motion, not giving Noah the chance to anticipate the action.  He hit him hard enough to lay him out on the floor with one punch.  “Nobody speaks like that to my wife,” he roared over Noah’s prone body.

“Mon dieu!  Are you okay?” Marinette exclaimed.  She rushed around Roy to survey the damage and Roy felt his heart sink as he saw her panicked expression.  He’d not only given her a front row seat to him being violent, an aspect of himself he tried to save for when he was suited up, he’d hit someone who had been important to her.  They hadn’t had enough time for him to show her he was more than just some crazy, aggressive neanderthal.

He almost definitely just completely destroyed any chance he had.  But regardless, he refused to regret it.  That man was the worst kind of filth.  The kind that thought they were allowed to treat the people around them like they were disposable.  The kind that thought they were inherently better than everyone else while the only evidence of that they could provide was their own bad behavior.  The kind that were destined to be miserable and spread that misery to everyone around them.

He almost jumped when he felt delicate hands gently grasp his hand and lift it closer to her face so she could examine it, close enough, he could feel her breath on his skin.  She tenderly brushed her fingers along the back of his hand and over his fingers only to turn it over and continue the pattern on the other side as well.  Her fingers barely pressed hard enough for him to feel them, but they still electrified his skin, shooting jolts through him and stealing his breath.  He managed to tear his gaze from tracing her fingers to meet her eyes.

“You're asking him?” Noah screeched as he attempted to get back up, swaying slightly, still reeling from the punch.

Roy flexed his hand a few times to stretch out the muscles, never removing his hand or gaze from hers.  “I’ll be fine,” he assured her.  “I know how to throw a punch.”

Marinette dropped her eyes to his hand again, a concerned wrinkle developing the longer she examined it.  “Wait just a second!” she exclaimed then turned to the bar.

Roy followed her movements, not noticing the small, sappy smile tugging up the corners of his lips, but he did notice Noah finally managing to raise up to his feet.  He managed to tear his eyes from Marinette to fix him with a withering glare threatening enough to make Noah falter almost tripping over a chair behind him, only managing to catch himself at the last minute.

“Ever disrespect my wife like that again and it’ll be a year before you can walk out of the hospital, if you even ever can use your legs again.  In fact, I don’t know if I’ll be able to control myself if I ever even see you around her at all.  So, I would highly recommend you just disappear from her life.  Assholes like you are a dime a dozen and that’s after inflation and still overpriced.”

Noah glared back but Roy straightened up even further and flexed his fist.  The movement didn’t go unnoticed.  He held his ground for just a few seconds before scoffing.  “She’s not even worth the time I spent on her anyway.”  Roy jerked toward him and Noah scattered like a cat seeing a cucumber.

Marinette returned just as Noah had disappeared into the crowd.  She didn’t even seem to notice he was gone, let alone look for him, just focused on Roy’s hand.  She ushered him back to his seat and gently lifted his hand onto the bar and delicately set the ice on it not meeting his gaze.  “I’m so sorry for that!  I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.  If I’d known you might be in danger, I never would have…”

“Hey,” he dipped down until he could meet her eyes and smiled, “I’m fine.  Thank you for the ice.  It was sweet of you to take care of me.”  He motioned to the chair she’d been sitting in earlier for her and helped ease her into it.  “Are you okay?”

“You're the one that's bloody!” she exclaimed, almost getting back up to drive home her point.

“But you're the one that he was trying to hurt,” he pointed out.  He intentionally kept his voice smooth and calm hoping to sooth her nerves, as though his tranquility could be absorbed like osmosis.

She still wouldn’t meet his eyes, instead unnecessarily adjusting the bag of ice to better cover his knuckles.  He used the distraction to motion to the bartender for another round of drinks. “Yeah, it happens,” she finally shrugged.  “Not the worst I’ve heard.”

“That's a goddamned tragedy,” he hooked a finger under her chin to urge her face up to meet his gaze, “because you're amazing and he’s nothing more than an asshole.  And, not to scare you but after hearing that, I kind of wish I’d hit him harder…” he winced thinking about how hard the man had gone down.  He wasn’t looking to go to prison.  How was he supposed to convince this amazing woman to date him from prison.  “…maybe not harder.  But a few more times with the same force if it would make you feel safe and erase your frown.”

She scoffed and turned to focus on the glass that just appeared before her, but after a beat glanced up through her lashes and offered a weak smile.  “Thanks.  But to be honest, his words don’t really hurt anymore.”

He nodded and pushed her drink toward her.  “Good.  I’d say you’re a hundred times him, but at best he’s worthless, and any number times zero is zero, so that wouldn’t be accurate.”

She snorted and took a drink.  She stared at the drink for a second before glancing at him from the side and smirking.  “They teach you math like that at spy camp?”

For the first time since Noah had appeared, Roy smiled, a full, toothy, joyous smile.  He nodded.  “It’s day two.  Right after how to punch assholes and use those little cigarette lighter camera things they used to have.”

Her laugh permeated through him straight to his core and warmed his entire body like stoking the hearth.  She tipped up her glass to finish off the drink and took a fortifying breath before turning to him.  “I think I’m ready to take your number… and give you mine.”  Her voice wavered slightly, but there was still a determined chord running through it.

He blinked at her comment, a bit caught off guard, but a slow smile spread across his lips.  “Yeah?”

“Yeah.  I think I should have my husband’s number after all,” she added shyly.

His smile turned into a full-on grin.  “Not to push my luck, but can I have my wife’s name as well?”  He’d heard her name from her ex yelling it, but he wanted it to come from her.  He wanted her to entrust him with that part of herself.  “Or should I just give you mine to take.”

“It’ll get a bit confusing if we both are called Roy,” she observed overly innocently.  He rolled his eyes, but his lips stuck in their amused slant.  “I better stick with Marinette,” she shrugged.  He inhaled like he was going to start speaking but let it out silently instead.  She raised an eyebrow at him.  “No witty comment?  Have I dumbfounded you with my name?”

He shook his head slowly.  “I know better than to tell you how beautiful your name is, but I do think it could be better.”

“You don’t like my name?” she asked.  The uncertainty in her voice cut directly into Roy’s heart.

“I do,” he granted quickly, before she could ruminate too long in her misperception.  He shifted closer, crowding into her space, his knees brushing on either side of hers, his eyes intently focused.  “It’s beautiful, just like you, I just think Marinette Harper sounds even more beautiful,” he smirked.

Her heart stuttered at the low, confidence in his voice.  She took a breath before returning his smirk and leaning toward him.  “And what makes you think I’ll take your name?”

“You won’t tell me your last name, so…” he inhaled dramatically through gritted teeth and shrugged helplessly, “we’re going to have to use mine.  No choice.”

“Oh, so tragic,” she commiserated.

“It truly is,” he agreed sadly.

The smile that had spread at his comment eventually eased into a quieter one.  She straightened up and held her phone out for him.  “I really do have to get going, but I really would like to get your number.”  Roy looked from the phone to her a few times before entering the number and standing as he returned it.  Marinette glanced down at the phone and smiled.  “Sexy Husband?” she asked.

He grinned brilliantly and held his hand out for her.  “So you don’t get confused.  And for the record, I have no intention of letting my wife go home alone.”  When she hesitated, he quickly clarified, “not while your ex might be waiting outside the bar or your place to ambush you.  But I will if you want.”

Her smile returned, content and genuine and she took his outstretched hand.  “Thank you.  I’d like that very much.”

@maribat-calendar-events

[harmlessghosty]

Leander + MC ->Coffee shop AU x fake dating (Leander's suggestion)?

Hi there~! I did my best, but I made this a little bit of a Valentine’s Day idea as well. I hope it’s fun to read!

—

“This is bullshit. All for a free pastry and a half-price coffee?” you ask with a snarl. “You have the balls to buy drinks for everyone in the bar, but you draw the line at spending on a fresh-baked croissant?”

Leander laughs and leans forward onto the small cafe table, his eyes glimmering with heavy interest. “It’s a deal for couples,” he explains, “for Valentine’s Day. In addition, I see you’re enjoying your latte much quicker than I’m eating the pastry.”

You roll your eyes and stare down at your empty mug. Of course you enjoyed the coffee; caffeine was just about the only thing that got you through your busy day most of the time. Plus, with Leander offering to pay for it, you really couldn’t pass up an afternoon at a nice cafe, even if that meant pretending to be a couple for a discount.

“Come now. Is it really so difficult to treat me like your partner?” he asks with a pout in a low voice so that no one could overhear. After all, if the server caught onto your ruse, the deal might have been voided…though you weren’t sure how they could tell. Maybe it was obvious. “This could be a wonderful date if you allowed it to be.”

“We’re not dating,” you hiss back, checking around you for a sign of someone standing a bit too close. “I’m only doing this for the cheap lunch.”

He leans back in his chair, his broad chest on display, making him look larger and stronger than he normally did. For a moment, you found yourself staring at the expanse of muscles in front of you before catching yourself and turning back to your empty latte. Ridiculous that such a guy could do little more than stick out his chest and hypnotize you. If anything, your admiration of his body made you look more like a real couple.

Noticing your sudden shyness, he stretches his arms high over his head. “I suppose we could tell the server if you’re truly uncomfortable,” he offers, shooting you a smirk. “We should be honest, shouldn’t we? You don’t seem like the type to lie.”

“Shut up. I’d rather not spend as much money on us.”

He reaches his arms across the table, placing his hands upward on the fake wood. “Take them,” he says, wiggling his fingers in invitation. “They’re warm, and the temperature is quite cold in here.”

You look down at his large hands and think. Sure, you’re acting like a couple, but do you really have to…?

Then again, it certainly was cold in the cafe, so what did it matter? And you were close enough friends that surely you weren’t scared of a little hand-holding in public, right? What were you—chicken?

Sighing, feeling a heat ride up your neck, you place your hands into Leander’s palms. Immediately, he grasps them in a firm grip, almost as though he’s frightened you’ll let him go. The cafe seems much busier than it was when you first entered, with people pressing close to your seats as they wait for their orders. After a moment, he tugs your hands closer to the center of the table, forcing you to scoot your chair in further. Underneath, your shoes accidentally step on his boots, which makes you jump and gasp.

In response, Leander smiles and pushes his feet closer, linking his ankle to yours. “You’re that kind of date, hm?” he teases. “It’s not something I expected, but I appreciate how forward you are.”

“I didn’t do that on purpose,” you mumble, staring once again at your drink. Could the server be any slower with the bill? You had to get out of that coffee shop before…

Well, before this fake date turned into something a little more real.

He squeezes your hands again before releasing one. It lifts to your chin, where he tilts up your head. His eyes, dark-lined and mysterious, flit with a seriousness you’re not used to seeing. “Hey,” he says, voice so quiet that you have to follow his pull forward in order to hear him. “I enjoy the time I’m spending with you. There’s a reason I invited you rather than anyone else.”

You find yourself nodding, though you’re not quite sure you understand.

He pinches your chin to ensure your attention is entirely on him, as though it wasn’t already. “I wanted you here for my Valentine’s date,” he says. “Accept it. I didn’t plan on letting you go hungry on a day like this.”

“I wouldn’t have gone hungry. I can take care of myself,” you counter, though the bite in your voice is practically nonexistent.

“At the very least, it’s nice to do something good for another person,” Leander replies, his genuine smile lighting the room enough that a customer or two seems to turn in your direction. “I pride myself on my work, and you’re important to me. If this isn’t going to be a real date, then at least allow me to pay your share.”

You let yourself smile without holding back. Though Leander seems to invite everyone out in a steady rotation of partners, somehow you feel…special. Maybe this really is something serious, or maybe it’s a ruse, but for now, it’s something that you appreciate from a friend.

“Fine,” you respond, taking hold of the hand beneath your chin and patting it gently. He blushes at the touch. “Only because you’re handsome though.”

“Bold, hearing that from you. I’ll treasure those words for the rest of my life.”

“Stop that,” you say, rolling your eyes but appreciating the idea that he might really hold onto your words for some time. The idea makes your heart skip a beat.

He lets go of you entirely, aside from the hold of his ankles around yours as he takes a bite of his pastry. Somehow the touch beneath the table feels even more intimate than the hand holding. “Someday,” he says with a flirty smile, “we can meet to get to know each other better in a place quieter than this.”

“I’d like that,” you reply before you think it through. Settling with the romantic moment, you sigh out your exasperation. “That would be nice, Leander. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. It would be my honor.”

And his grin is so sparkling that you can’t help but let the butterflies flutter through your stomach.

[farashibutjustfoolingaorund]

On RE1 Concept Art

The following is a ramble/discussion/analysis of some RE1 concept art. 

(Fandom Wiki)

The concept art holds a lot of details about the nuances of the STARS workplace dynamic and some traits of individual characters. Although at first I found myself disappointed that these dynamics and vibrancy of character didn’t come through in the RE1 remake, I quickly found myself reevaluating. Every member of STARS is completely in character throughout the entirety of the game, and these subtle character dynamics are actually present if you pay closer attention (which I had clearly not done on my first watch-through of the RE1R). However, the game doesn’t go out of its way to show these things off, which actually ends up aiding the storytelling. This is something that the original games and RE media do a lot better than the more recent productions, in my opinion. While the movies and some aspects of the 2019-2023 remakes have the subtlety of a gunshot, the writing in earlier Resident Evil media is pleasantly nuanced in a way that gives anyone thinking too hard about the games something to chew on and appreciate. 

Character Context of Chris and Jill:

In image 1/2, we find out that Chris doesn’t listen to orders, doesn’t work well in a team, doesn’t take a lot of things seriously, and is always getting into trouble. Especially if he’s hanging around with Joseph and Forest. It’s incredible to me how much he changes from this. Chris goes from the guy who doesn’t listen to orders to the one giving them. He goes from not working well in a team, to becoming a capable leader who always has his teammates’ backs. He loses almost all of his sense of humor. I think the only ‘jokes’ I can remember him cracking are, “Okay, but no sightseeing”, in regards to wanting Jill to hurry up about getting him out of the cell in her run of the RE1R, and re-referencing, “I never make plans that far ahead”, in Vendetta as an inside joke with Leon. (In contrast, Leon, who in concept art is supposed to be a very serious and somewhat unfriendly guy, turns to humor as a coping mechanism post Raccoon City. More on that later.) However, Chris keeps his impulsivity. He causes an explosion without warning Jill at all in Prelude to the Fall, and one of his most prevalent character traits is jumping headfirst into danger without a second thought to save his teammates. (But he’ll never be able to jump more headfirst than Jill. Literally. She tackled Wesker out a window.)

In image two, we find out that Jill, “tends to stay home on her day off and relax.” I almost wish we would have known this about her somehow going into RE1 (although, I can see how it would be difficult or irrelevant to incorporate it for the game’s story), because it adds even more impact to her state of mind post RE1, and the rest of her life. As we can see, especially in the RE3R, Jill loses all ability to relax following the mansion incident. She’s downright tortured by what she saw and experienced there, who wouldn’t be? This is a pattern that continues. After the Raccoon City incident, she dives headfirst into tackling bioterrorism alongside Chris, both working tirelessly against Umbrella (see Prelude to the Fall Manga, UC: Umbrella’s End, Jill and Chris founding the BSAA.) Post RE5, Jill doesn’t get back into the field until Death Island, 6 years later. In Death Island, we can see that the guilt and horror of what happened in RE5 drives her to overwork herself, to the point that Chris is concerned. It seems to me that Jill just doesn’t know how to rest or wait anymore, not when there are lives at stake and a war to fight. 

Aside from the more serious character implications, I love the fun things we get to learn too. Like how Rebecca loves basketball, how everyone hates Irons. Like how Chris either respects Jill enough/is scared of her enough when she’s angry to take shooting lessons seriously. 

It’s fun to find out that Jill is sort of the silent and mysterious type, and I think it gives greater depth to what she does in RE1. Her unexplained lockpicking skills give more context to Barry giving her the lockpick. (Side note, on the STARS fandom wiki page, Jill’s specialty is listed as B&E. I sat there for a while thinking, what on earth is that? Then I realized. Breaking and Entering.) Her being the silent type also gives more explanation for her seemingly blind trust toward Barry in RE1. I always wondered, “Why on earth hasn’t Jill noticed anything off or confronted Barry yet?” It’s because that’s not her style. She’s the kind of person who observes and doesn’t tell, she waits till she knows more. Also, Jill is the kind of person who gives full faith to her teammates, even when she knows it may not be deserved. This is prevalent not only in her handling of Barry’s secrecy and treachery, but also in the way Enrico treats her. In Chris’ run, when he encounters Enrico, Enrico suspects him of being the traitor. In Jill’s run, Enrico trusts wholly that she can’t be the traitor. I think this is because Jill doesn’t naively place trust in people, but chooses to give full faith to her team members. She’s loyal to a fault, and her teammates recognize that and reciprocate.  I like to think that the reason Wesker sends Jill to investigate the noise right when the enter the mansion is because he knows Jill is silent, observant, and smarter than she lets on. He might’ve wanted to get her out of the way so he could move around freely without her scrutiny.

On Rebecca Chambers:

I would also like to take a moment to recognize how absolutely cracked and insane and prodigious Rebecca Chambers is. She’s 18, graduated college, and working as a tactical paramedic on what is essentially a SWAT team. 

“The primary job of this type of paramedic is to provide medical care to SWAT members. Some form of military or law enforcement experience is required for this position. Medical training can come from the agency itself or from a traditional higher education but the arms training is necessary… Similar to positions within the military and SWAT, a tactical paramedic in most cases must also be a sworn officer… Though the military and law enforcement training is ideal and makes a candidate much more desirable to the hiring officer, it is not uncommon for the military and law enforcement to consider professionals that aren’t sworn in nor have military background. For those candidates choosing to take the private route, it is important to first receive paramedic training through a secondary education, becoming a certified paramedic and then focus the first five years on being a top paramedic.” (https://www.paramedictrainingspot.com/how-to-become-a-tactical-paramedic/) 

Here’s a short version of Rebecca’s required skills, with an in-depth version below the cut.

Highschool diploma

We know Rebecca graduated college at 18 years old as a chem major. We also know she has her doctorate in Virology by 2005/age 24 (See Biohazard the Stage). Girl’s crazy smart.

Certified paramedic

Despite the fact that someone would normally need prior work experience to be a tactical paramedic, it seems this isn’t the case for Rebecca. Perhaps she was prodigious enough that they decided she didn’t need that prior experience, which I think comes back to bite her in RE1. Rebecca is green, she hasn’t had any prior paramedic experience to prepare her for the trauma of, well, trauma response. Hence why she breaks down in front of Chris in his run of the RE1R.

21 years of age

Once again, Rebecca must have just been prodigious enough that this requirement wasn’t an issue. The 21 years age requirement also seems to be in place for a lot of law enforcement jobs in general. 

Concealed carry permit

80 hour basic SWAT school completion

Must be able to engage in vigorous physical activity and lift and/or carry a minimum of 140 lbs.

In essence, Rebecca is crazy smart and has the wildest sleeper build of all time. This little 5’3” 90-something-pound girl can lift. She could pick up Jill and carry her around. She has to be able to, as a paramedic who may have to get injured or incapacitated persons to safety. 

More detailed version of Rebecca’s required skills.

These are taken from the Pinellas County (FL) PD tactical paramed requirements: (https://www.pcsoweb.com/Data/Sites/1/media/jobdescription/Tactical%20Paramedic_092021.pdf) 

These requirements are post-1998, but can still help to give an idea of what skills Rebecca would need.

High school graduation or equivalent diploma

Minimum of 3 years as a state certified paramedic

Potential education requirements: (taken from here: https://one.nhtsa.gov/people/injury/ems/EMT-P/disk_1%5B1%5D/index.htm) 

“There are two prerequisites for the Paramedic curriculum: EMT-Basic and Anatomy and Physiology.” (1998 Emergency Medical Technician Paramedic: National Standard Curriculum Introduction)

More on EMT basic here https://www.emstraininginc.com/emtbcoursedesc.html 

Various Certifications

Current Prehospital Trauma Life Support (PHTLS) certification

Current Advanced Cardiac Life Support (ACLS) certification

Current Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation (CPR) course certification

Current Emergency Pediatric Care (EPC) certification

Current Advanced Practice Paramedic (APP) certification

Completion of an approved forty (40) hour Tactical Combat Casualty Care (TCCC) /Tactical Emergency Medical Service (TEMS) course

Requires that the member be at least 21 years of age

Concealed carry license for weapon or firearm

Concealed carry courses assume a prerequisite basic handgun handling course has been taken.

The course typically teaches and assesses: license protocols, use of force laws, firearm safety, and marksmanship.

Completed an approved 80 hour Basic SWAT School, within one year of employment

Prerequisites may include: A moderate proficiency level and working knowledge with the carbine and pistol. Must be free of any physical ailment that would limit their participation in events that require running, climbing and carrying 45lbs for extended periods.

Material covered may include: Nutrition and Hydration, Deadly Force Considerations, team formation and dress drills, shooting positions and movements.

Valid driver’s license

Physical abilities

Visual acuity of 20/30 vision standard in each eye

Hearing acuity

Weapons handling

Ability to operate authorized semi-automatic handguns designated by the agency from a standing, crouching, kneeling, or prone position with either hand with accuracy,

essentials for this requirement shall consist of, but not limited to the following: grip, stance, sighting under various lighting conditions, trigger control, body positioning, drawing techniques, and loading / unloading.

Strength

Must be able to conduct regular vigorous physical activity while wearing a full-face air purifying respirator, tactical vest, ballistic helmet, boots, and carrying a backpack with up to 20 pounds of equipment

Includes climbing ladders, running up stairs, etc.

Stand or walk while wearing and carrying tactical medical equipment / gear up to 12 hours per day

Lift and / or carry a minimum of 140 pounds up to 200 pounds

[ptergwen]

If you do smut can you do like stark!reader x peter parker (spiderman) are dating 3-4 month and y/n and peter had their very fluff first time then next morning y/n has hickies all over her neck and her thights stomach... and tony/ her dad sees it and is confronting them with it😂 i love your stories 🤤

just saying hi

w/c: 2.5k

warnings: veryyyy suggestive, swearing, some pretty embarrassing moments

a/n: thank you babe! i didn’t write the actual smut but y’all can guess what happened 😭 also this is super long i couldn’t help myself

-

it was everything. it was everything you ever wanted your first time to be and more.

you’d brought up to peter during a make out session one night that you were ready to go farther than you two already have. there was one base you didn’t hit yet. the fourth, the final. you were thinking about it for a while before that, and peter would be lying if he said he didn’t.

your love has always been physical, whether it’s you kissing peter’s cuts after a mission or him tracing hearts on you with his fingers. there’s also the more sexual side of things. that part, you both enjoy just as much, maybe even a little more because you know exactly how to make each other feel good after all the trial and error.

what better way to combine the two than, well, making love?

last night was your sign from the universe, your go ahead to do it. you had the compound to yourselves because your dad had taken all the “big kids” out for the night. you’re both well into college, but he refuses to see you as adults. that meant no peter and no you. you two were a little offended until you realized you could make use of your alone time.

you started off searching for a movie. that turned into you wrestling peter for the remote because you didn’t feel like watching back to the furure yet again. wrestling turned into you on top of him, which turned into you kissing him, which turned into peter throwing the remote somewhere and carrying you up to your room with his lips still on yours.

neither of you had to say it. you were on the same page, same wavelength, two brains in one as peter layed you down and trailed his kisses lower and lower.

peter was so gentle with you, except for when you told him not to be. those were the times he didn’t hold back. he was attentive and sweet and showed you quite a few times how much he loves you. you showed him just the same. yeah, it was really everything.

“morning, baby. you awake yet?” peter hums against the shell of your ear, arms wound comfortably around you. “kinda,” you mumble back with a goofy smile. he presses his lips to your ear and nuzzles his face in the side of your neck. “kinda... how’d you sleep?” you can hear the grin in his voice. his nose nudges your bare skin where a fresh hickey lies and makes you scrunch your own up.

“good, really good. always love sleeping with you.” you’re both aware of the alternate meaning that has now. “funny,” peter lets out a breathy laugh against you and brushes his thumb over your stomach where your shirt got ridden up. you sigh, enjoying his soft touch and reaching behind you to play with his curls. they’re a lot messier than usual from you tugging on them all last night.

peter removes his face from your neck and carefully turns you onto your other side. you’re facing him now, eyes trained on his concerned expression. “hey, just wanna check. how are you feeling? still sore?” a tiny smile stretches your face. he really does care about you and how you feel after everything. you know for a fact most other guys wouldn’t.

“i mean, yeah. you were... it was a lot, but i’ll be fine in a few days i think.” the mention of peter being a lot makes color rush to his face. you laugh quietly at that, cupping one of his cheeks that’s turning pink. “oh. i, um, i didn’t know that. sorry.” he smiles shyly as you smooth your thumb over his warm skin. “don’t be. it wasn’t as bad after i... adjusted a little,” you reassure him, making him lean into your palm.

“i really am sorry, y/n/n. can i make it up to you?” peter checks with you, eyes going up from yours to down your body. he hooks a finger in the waistband of your pajama shorts. “make you feel better?” the way he finishes his question with a bite of his lip is definitely tempting. so is your stomach yelling at you to put some food in it. you’ll have to wait.

“later. right now, you can make me breakfast,” you beam at him and take his hand. peter pushes his palm against yours, letting you lace your fingers together as he puffs some air out of his cheeks. “yeah, that’s gonna go well.” “i’m supervising. it will.” you capture his lips in a kiss, one he instantly reciprocates, free hand resting on your hip. just as it’s heating up, you break it.

“i’m hungry for actual food,” you giggle and roll out of his embrace. “ok, ok, ok. let’s go see what we have,” peter gives in with a chuckle, grabbing the same hand he was just holding and following you down to the kitchen.

he ends up popping some frozen waffles into the toaster, you sitting up on the counter with your phone out while he struggles through the different settings. “should i put it on bake? no, that doesn’t sound right,” he talks to himself with eyes squinted in concentration. “your dad made this thing so... detailed.” it’s an old stark industries toaster, one with options you probably don’t even need.

“yeah because he loves his toast, so maybe don’t break it. he’ll kill you or something,” you half playfully half seriously suggest. peter is one clumsy guy. he tsks at you and crouches down to read the words on the dial. there’s conveniently a setting for waffles, so he hits that one. he’s not sure how he hadn’t noticed it before.

since he’s down there, he takes one of your ankles in both hands and starts to kiss up your leg. it tickles when he gets to your knee, drawing a giggle out of you, but your phone still blocks his face. you’re doing it on purpose. “baby,” peter tries to get your attention in a soft voice. he presses a couple more kisses to your knee. you have to hold your breath so you don’t laugh again.

“baby girllll,” peter drags out, lips moving up your thigh. he nudges your phone with his nose much like a puppy would. “aye, i’m talkin’ to you here,” he says in a fake new york accent. you finally put it down next to you. “i’m listening.” you’re giving him a satisfied smile as he goes back to kissing you.

“just saying hi,” he looks up at you and moves your shorts aside while he kisses further and further to where you want. you scoot closer to him on the counter.

that’s when he stops. not only stops, gasps in horror. “what?” you ask quickly, his eyes fixed on your inner thighs. “i kind of, uh, marked you up. like, a lot.” he runs a finger gently over the bruised skin. you’re suddenly very aware of it now. it doesn’t exactly hurt, just feels bumpy and weird. you peer down at yourself to see the damage, eyes going wide.

“shit... they’re on my neck, too,” you remember, murmuring to him. you’ll have to cover these up before everyone gets home. worry flashes across peter’s face. “oh my god, i didn’t even realize. it- it was dark and you told me-“ “pete, it’s okay. it’s pretty hot,” you stop his rambling, reaching down and putting a hand on his shoulder. he frowns up at you.

“really? are you sure i didn’t go too far? because you can tell me.” you’ve always appreciated how much peter genuienly values your thoughts on things, in the bedroom and in other parts of your relationship. it does lead to a lot of second guessing, though. you squeeze his shoulder and let out a breath. “i’m sure, okay? it’s really not that serious. i’ll just change so no one can see.”

peter winds an arm around one of your legs, body relaxing ever so slightly under your touch. “okay.” he gives your thigh one final kiss, then rests his chin on it. “what about your neck?” “uh...” you hadn’t considered that yet. “makeup? a scarf?” you’ve seen enough tv to know neither of those work, but they’re your only options.

“yup. mr. stark is really gonna kill me now,” peter says under his breath, tensing up all over again. you furrow your eyebrows at him. “what? we’re literally grown adults, we can do whatever we want-“

tony claps loudly as he steps into the kitchen, announcing his return home. peter jumps up from between your legs faster than fast. he moves so he’s next to you, and you hop down from the counter.

“hello, daughter of mine. spider of man,” your dad greets you two, you pulling down your shorts with a plastered on smile. “or would it be man of spider?” he plucks an apple from the bowl on the table as he ponders his question. steve and wanda file into the room next. “second one,” peter replies, grinning a little too much to be normal. tony takes note of that.

wanda comes over to the fridge for a snack, which is close to where you and peter are. “how was last night?” you ask her to take the attention off you two. wanda settles on a yogurt and turns to you. “it was good. we shared a few hotel rooms, had our own party.” she glances over at peter, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “seems like you two had a fun night of your own.”

peter’s mouth drops open. “how did you-“ he forgot she could read his mind and now knows everything that happened. you slap a hand over your forehead. “you couldn’t think about anything else? for, like, a minute?” you whisper yell at him. he uses his eyes to plead with you. “i’m sorry! i was looking at the hickeys-“ he realizes what he’s saying. “crap.”

shooting you a wink, wanda shuts the fridge and goes to join the rest of the team in the living room. lucky for you and peter, steve started lecturing tony about washing his fruit before he eats it. he didn’t hear any of that. there’s still the problem of your visible hickeys that you have zero seconds to hide.

“how the fuck am i supposed to cover these? they’re right in the center, peter!” you panic, your heart starting to race as peter fumbles for a dish towel. that’s the best he could come up with? “no!” you toss it back at him. he throws it on the counter with a pained look. tony and steve make their way over to you.

“oh, hush. a couple of deadly pesticides won’t shake me, stevey boy,” tony insists and takes another big bite of his apple. steve huffs in disapproval and crosses his arms. “you’re a big baby, tony. if you’re not gonna do the right thing, at least buy organic-“ with the world’s longest sigh, tony chucks his apple into the open garbage can.

“there. no more apple discourse.” steve shakes his head at your dad’s behavior. “that was a waste. you could’ve finished it.” “not with your nagging into my literal ear.” steve raises his hands in surrender before making his way out of the kitchen. tony side steps past him and over to you. “enough of that now. let’s have a welcome home hug from my girl.”

you share a look with peter, a look of pure fear that’s in both of your eyes. he’ll definitely notice the hickeys if he gets that close to you. he holds out his arms expectantly while peter scratches the back of his own neck. “sure, dad. welcome home.” an awkward smile on your lips, you bury your face in your dad’s chest and wrap your arms around him in one motion. this way, he didn’t have time to see you from too close up.

peter exhales in relief at the narrowly avoided disaster. that’s until tony makes a request. “missed me that much, kiddo, huh? come out of there.” “but, i’m so comfortable. i wanna stay like this,” you insist, a niceness to your voice tony immediately sees through. he drops his arms from around you, eyeing peter suspiciously, who averts his gaze to the floor.

“nuh uh, you did something. both of you,” your dad states, taking a step to stand between you and peter. peter gulps down a breath before speaking. “mr. stark, it was-“ tony holds up a hand. “don’t worry, kid. i’ll figure it out.”

he gives peter a proper stare, searching him for clues of some sort. it’s a good thing he isn’t wanda because the details of your night would have been exposed. he couldn’t find anything, so now it’s your turn. he’s a little disappointed you’re the one hiding something.

“oh, y/n. not you,” tony sighs as he gives you a looking over. he starts with your face, your eyes following down as his do. it’s when he gets just past your chin that he sees them. the little hickeys littering your skin, some already deep shades of purple. he rips off his glasses in disbelief.

“absolutely not.” he closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with the same hand his glasses are in. “i’m not seeing this. i’m not seeing this if i don’t look.” you scoff at his reaction. “dad, you know we’re together. you can’t expect us to not...” “don’t say it,” tony begs, getting the urge to hurl his half eaten apple. he turns and faces peter.

“parker, you really did all of that?” peter only blinks, nervously meeting the eyes of his mentor. “to my daughter?” tony adds on to scare him even more. “i- i-“ a burst of frustration comes out of peter. “you left two teenagers alone the whole night. what’d you think was gonna happen?” he’s shocked at his own words, his face showing it. tony raises his eyebrows. both your hands cover your mouth.

not wanting to deal with peter, tony addresses you instead. “i don’t care how you do it, cover those up. don’t let me see them ever again. understood?” you nod a good amount of times and reach for peter’s hand. he’s about to give it, then tony glares down at what’s happening. peter pulls back immediatelty. “understood. we’ll, um, do better next time,” you agree, tony winching at the idea of a next time.

“you, parker... treat a lady with a little more respect, eh?” tony clicks his tongue at him. he’s referring to all the hickeys. peter’s lips form a line, a sarcastic one that says oh well. “i tried, mr. stark, but y/n wanted me to-“ “christ, that’s enough.” tony furiously shakes his head and starts to walk away from you two. “never again!”

you’re thanking god when he sets off for the living room, you hiding your face in peter’s chest, his face in your hair. “that was terrible. that was the worst thing ever,” you say into him. “i’m sorry, baby. we gotta be more careful.”

it’s not over yet because then, the toaster dings. you’d completely forgotten about the waffles. you and peter both separate with your millionth shared look of terror. tony comes rushing back into the room, very familiar with that noise.

“first you destroy my daughter, now my toaster? pete... you’re in for it, kid.”

[fandom-smut-shots]

Keith Kogane - I’m Not Going Anywhere

Not Going Anywhere

A/N: Modern life AU.

Also, any genders and pronouns are acceptable to request. If not specified, I default to female, because that’s the majority of reader inserts in my experience.

Summary: You’ve been dating Keith for about six months, but you’ve only recently met his group of friends. He’s worried that they each have more to offer you than he does, and his insecurities eat away at him until you calm him down.

Words: 2,063

           “Your girlfriend is coming to the party, right?”

         Keith froze, glancing up at Shiro where the older man stood beside the stove, preparing a pot of spinach artichoke dip. He was a disaster at cooking actual food, but he’d managed to learn to prepare dips like a boss.

         “Uh…” was all the black-haired boy managed in response, shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

         “Come on, Keith,” Shiro chided gently, employing his best Older Brother voice. “You’ve been seeing this girl for, what, six months now? I think it’s time I met her. And what better time to introduce her to the gang than at your birthday party?”

         “Do I have to introduce her to everyone?” Keith whined, glaring down at his breakfast. “Can’t she just meet you and be done with it?”

         Shiro sighed, turning to argue when he caught sight of his brother’s expression. Keith wasn’t one for expressing his emotions, so Shiro had learned early on how to read the arch of his brow and the shine of his eyes. Keith currently looked crestfallen, which given the circumstances meant that insecurities were buzzing around inside his head.

         “It’s going to be fine, Keith,” the older boy commented, taking a seat across from Keith at the table. “Everyone is going to love her, and she’s going to love your friends.”

         “That’s what I’m worried about,” was all Keith murmured before he stood, setting his cereal bowl in the sink before turning to skulk down the hallway towards his room.

           “I’d love to go to his birthday party!” you squealed into the phone, balancing it between your ear and your shoulder so you had free use of your hands. “I’m almost done decorating his cake. I could bring it with me!”

         “He’d love that,” Shiro chuckled on the other end. “We’re not a baking-inclined family, so it’s always store-bought cakes for us.”

         “He told me he just wanted to do something simple to celebrate with me,” you returned, swirling icing atop the cake to add calligraphic decoration to Keith’s name. “I wonder why he didn’t tell me you were throwing him a party.”

         “He doesn’t like being the center of attention,” Shiro reasoned.

         You hummed in agreement. “That’s true.” Setting the piping bag on the counter, you paused, a frown forming on your lips. “It’s not… He wants me to come, right? He won’t be mad that you invited me?”

         Shiro sighed into the receiver, and you bit your lip nervously. “He’ll be upset that I went behind his back, but I know him very well, and I think he’d enjoy the party a lot more if you were there. He’s just nervous about you meeting his friends. They can be a handful.”

         “If you’re sure,” you replied. The last thing you wanted to do was upset your boyfriend while trying to celebrate his birthday. “I’ll be there. With a cake.”

         “Perfect,” the man on the phone replied. “I’ll see you tonight. It’ll be great, I promise.”

         You hung up the phone and set it on the counter, admiring your handiwork on your boyfriend’s cake. Exhaling softly, you tried to believe Shiro’s words. Everything would be fine.

           Your heart hammered in your chest as you approached the front door of Shiro and Keith’s shared house. Carefully balancing the cake with one hand, you raised the other to knock on the door, waiting patiently but anxiously for someone to answer. The door opened to reveal Shiro, smiling widely upon seeing you on the other side.

         “(y/n)! It’s so great to meet you!” he greeted enthusiastically. “I’m Shiro, Keith’s older brother. I apologize if I startled you with that phone call earlier – I wasn’t sure Keith would actually follow through and invite you.”

         “He didn’t,” you giggled. “I don’t mind at all. I’ve been wanting to meet you for months.”

         “Let me take that for you,” he offered, easing the cake out of your hold. He headed inside, nodding for you to follow him. You closed the door behind you, following the tall man- like seriously, how was he that tall?-  into the kitchen. There stood a thicker boy, nearly as tall as Shiro, stirring and chopping like a professional chef.

         “That cheese sauce smells amazing, Hunk,” Shiro complimented the cook, placing the cake on the counter.

         “It’s almost done- ooh, where’d the cake come from?” the cook inquired.

         “Keith’s girlfriend.”

         The spoon being used to stir the cheese sauce fell to the floor with a clink, gooey cheese splashing all over the tile.

         “Keith’s what?!”

         The tall, tanned cook spun on his heel, a grin splitting his lips as he caught sight of you. “She’s real!”

         Shiro laughed softly, stepping closer to you. “Hunk, this is (y/n). (y/n), this is Hunk, our resident chef. He shares a few classes with Keith.”

         “I’m an engineering major,” Hunk explained, offering his hand. You placed your comparably tiny hand in his, giggling softly.

         “It’s nice to meet you. Keith has mentioned your cooking.”

         Hunk’s eyes sparkled at the confirmation that the emotionally constipated raven appreciated his food before he turned back to the stove.

         “Hey, Shiro, what-“ Keith stopped in his tracks as he entered the kitchen, his eyes widening as he stared at you. “(y/n)? What are you doing here?”

         “I invited her because I knew you wouldn’t,” Shiro explained.

         “It’s okay that I’m here, right, babe?” you questioned, brows furrowing with worry as you took Keith’s hands in yours.

         “Babe?” teased an unfamiliar voice. “Keith lets someone call him babe?” A tall, thin brunet sauntered into view, resting his elbow on your boyfriend’s shoulder. “Hey, who’s the hottie? She’s- ow!”

         Keith’s elbow collided with the brunet’s rib, and he stepped away.

         “Yeah, it’s okay,” Keith murmured, lacing his fingers with yours, but you could hear the uncertainty in his voice. You stood up on your toes, pressing your lips to his, and he melted into the gesture despite having an audience. The brunet from before whistled at the sight, and Keith pulled back with a glare in his eyes and a blush on his cheeks.

         “I’m (y/n,” you introduced, offering your hand.

         “The name’s Lance,” the tan brunet grinned, taking your hand in his and lightly kissing your knuckles. You simply raised a brow in response, unsurprised when Keith ripped Lance’s hand away from yours.

         “She’s taken,” he growled, wrapping an arm around your waist. You giggled softly, resting your head on Keith’s shoulder.

         “Is that everyone?” you inquired, looking towards Shiro.

         “Hunk!” another voice called from the hallway. “Are the nachos done? I’m starving- oh, hey.”

         Finally, someone not insanely tall.

         “I’m Pidge,” they offered, lifting their hand to their head in a salute. “You must be Keith’s girlfriend.”

         “(y/n),” you countered. “Are you another friend of his?”

         Pidge stole a chip from the bowl on the table, popping it into their mouth. “If that’s what we’re calling it. I’m friends with Lance and Hunk, and they kinda forced Keith to join the group.”

         “I encouraged it,” Shiro replied. “My brother needs social skills.”

         “I have plenty of social skills,” Keith grumbled in response.

         Lance snickered loudly, Pidge choked on a ship, and Hunk chuckled from his place at the stove.

         “I got myself a girlfriend without your interference, didn’t I?” your boyfriend defended, his grip around your wait tightening.

         “How did you two meet, anyway?” Pidge questioned.

         “I’m an art major,” you replied. “We met in Interpretive Painting.”

         “Keith takes art classes?” Lance gasped, his voice raising several octaves.

         “Makes sense,” Pidge shrugged.

         “Interpretive Painting?” Hunk repeated. “That sounds like fun.”

         “Ah, someone who will encourage my brother to keep working on his art,” Shiro smiled. “I already love her.”

         Keith used his hand on your waist to guide you away from the others, leading you to the living room. He sat on the couch, pulling you onto his lap, securing his arms around you. Your own arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers toying with his thick raven hair. His nose nuzzled into your neck as he inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of your body wash.

         “Why didn’t you want me to meet them?” you inquired softly. “They seem nice.”

         “Too nice,” he murmured against your skin. “They’ll take you away from me.”

         You pulled away from Keith just enough to lift his head, caressing his jaw with your hand, gazing softly into his violet eyes. “You don’t really think that, do you?”

         His gaze dropped somewhere behind you – a tell that the current situation made him vulnerable and insecure.

         “You heard them in there. I’m not social. How many times have you told me I suck at texting back? If you hadn’t been so friendly, I wouldn’t have even been able to ask you out.”

         “So?” you questioned, brushing your thumb across is cheekbone. “I’m dating you, aren’t I? If you being anti-social was an issue, I wouldn’t have said yes.”

         He sighed, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. “Lance is better at romance and dating. Pidge is smart, and you like a lot of the same games. Hunk can cook actual meals. They have more to offer you.”

         Your heart broke at his honesty. You knew how hard it was for Keith to be so open, even with you. He must have been dreading the day you met his friends if he was this concerned about it.

         Taking his face in your hands, you lifted his head until you can access his mouth. You gently pressed your lips to his, pouring your emotions into the kiss. He sighed softly against your lips, his arms tightening around your waist. You let one hand slide back to tangle in his hair, gently tugging on the strands.

         “I’m not going anywhere,” you promised between kisses. “I love you, Keith. Befriending your friends means I get to spend more time with you and learn more about you. They’re not going to take me from you, I promise.”

         “Dinner is done!” Hunk’s voice called from the kitchen.

         You slid off of Keith’s lap, much to his dismay, and offered him a hand. “Come on, babe. Let’s go eat.”

         He took your hand, lacing your fingers and squeezing softly as he followed you into the kitchen. Chips, cheese, meat, and vegetables decorated the table as a homemade nacho bar for everyone to dig into. Keith’s amethyst eyes danced around the kitchen, landing on an unfamiliar container on the counter.

         “What’s that?” he inquired, turning his gaze to Hunk.

         Hunk grinned. “(y/n) brought it.”

         “It’s your cake,” you replied, shoving a fully-coated nacho into your mouth.

         “You made me a cake?” Keith questioned, his eyes softening as he looked at you.

         “The plan was for us to have a private party after you were done here,” you shrugged. “When Shiro invited me, I figured I might as well bring the cake.”

         Keith dipped his head, pressing a loving kiss to your lips. Lance and Pidge cat-called from somewhere behind you, but Keith didn’t seem to mind. Shiro smiled from behind Keith, shaking his head softly.

           After dinner and cake were thoroughly enjoyed, you followed Keith and his friends to the living room to watch movies. He sat on the couch and you reclaimed your place on his lap, snuggling into his chest. His hands intertwined with yours, his fingertips brushing your knuckles, and you peppered soft kisses to his jaw, reminding him that you were his.

         While everyone was enthralled in the movie, you turned to face your boyfriend. You untangled a hand from his in order to lift it to his face, cupping his cheek. He turned his gaze from the movie to look at you, a soft expression in his eyes that only you were allowed to see. You shifted in his lap, pulling his lips down to yours. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss, gently nipping at your lower lip with his teeth. You were tempted to give in until you recalled your company, reluctantly breaking the kiss and settling back against his chest.

         “I’m not going anywhere,” you murmured softly, squeezing his hand as you watched the movie. The kiss he pressed to the side of your head told you that he understood, and while you knew his insecurities wouldn’t be magically washed away, you also knew that he was trying and that was more than enough for you.

[fortuositywritings]

Tattoo Heart

Summary: Tony and you make a dumb drunk decision. He gives you a tattoo.

“Um, what the hell, Tony! You said it wasn’t that bad.”

“It’s not! It’s well-proportioned. Really it’s the best heart I’ve ever drawn. I don’t know why you’re so upset. It could have been worse.”

“The heart isn’t the problem. You tattooed Wanda’s name on it!”

“Yeah, I can see why you’re mad.”

You poked your sore arm. Out of all places, he had to tattoo it on your arm above your elbow where everyone could see. Talk about bad placement.

You pout, “How am I supposed to hide this?”

“Baseball tee’s could make a comeback. You’ll be a trendsetter,” he suggests, not helping at all. 

You glare at him. “You’re paying for it to be removed.”

“I expected no less,” he concedes. You’re still touching the tender spot, frowning. He stops you. “Poking it is not going to make it go away.”

“Fuck! I’m never getting drunk with you again,” you vow. 

“You say that now, but come Friday night, whiteclaw in hand, you’ll have no recollection of this ever happening.”

“Getting a tattoo with your crush’s name on it is kind of hard to forget, Tony,” you spit out. He wears a sheepish smile. Speaking of the party on Friday, “Shit!”

“What?” Tony asks, clearly not processing the situation you’re in as fast as you are.

“Wanda’s gonna be there,” you remember.

“Well, yeah. It’s Pietro’s birthday party and they’re twins so,” he comments sarcastically.

“It’s a pool party. How am I supposed to hide this?”

“Just don’t get in the pool. Or you know what, just don’t go. Say you got sick,” Tony suggests.

“I can’t do that. She expects me to be there and I don’t want to let her down on her birthday,” you explain. Wanda had personally invited you to her party, saying you were going to be her partner for beer pong. 

“Fine. Don’t worry about it too much. We have all week to figure something out,” he reasons. You guess he’s right. No use in stressing too much.

Friday afternoon comes too fast.

You’re stressing as you look at yourself in the mirror. You look ridiculous. 

“You’re literally a genius and this was the best you could come up with?” you complain. You already feel yourself sweating. You hadn’t thought of what to wear. You only had your one piece bathing suit. Tony told you he had something and you trusted him. What he brought you, a long sleeve rashguard to wear over your bathing suit.

“Makeup was just going to wash off. We couldn’t chance it. This way, you can get in the pool,” he says. 

“I look like I’m going surfing, not a pool party,” you huff. 

“You look fine. If anyone asks, you burn easily. Now let’s go. Your girlfriend is waiting on you,” he rushes you along, grabbing your stuff for you. You throw on some shorts and slip on some sandals.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” you mumble, blushing as he pushes you out the door.

“Oh, I know. This wouldn’t be such a big deal if she was.” He closes the door.

Pietro opens the door for you and Tony. You both hug him and congratulate him on another year of being on this earth or as Tony puts it, “Congrats on being one year closer to death!”

Technically, their birthday is tomorrow but they always have a birthday dinner with their parents, so they celebrate with their friends either the day before or after. You and Tony hand Pietro your present for him. 

“Just don’t open it in front of your parents,” you warn. He decides to unwrap it right then. You roll your eyes at his impatience to wait until tomorrow. To his satisfaction it’s running shoes with a bottle of alcohol in each shoe. He laughs, thanking you for his present. He notices you looking around, searching for a certain somebody. He already knows who you’re looking for. 

“She’s in the kitchen,” he tells you, a smirk appearing on his face when you blush at being so obvious. You thank him and go find Wanda.

As Pietro said, she is in the kitchen fixing some appetizers to bring outside. What you weren’t prepared for was her already in her bikini, like she’s ready to jump into the pool. Her two piece bathing suit doesn’t leave much to the imagination but you’re quite the daydreamer it seems. You’re snapped out of your trance by Wanda clearing her throat.

She wears a smirk much like her brother’s and you splutter an embarrassed, “H-hi! Happy Birthday. You, uh, you look good. Great! You look ready for the pool.”

She smiles, amused by your awkwardness. “Thank you. You look ready for the beach.”

You blush. “Yeah, I burn easily,” you lie and quickly move on, handing her the present you got her. “Here.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she says, but you shake your head. “Of course I did. It’s your birthday tomorrow. You can open it now if you want. Your brother did.”

“Unlike my brother, I can wait. Let me go put it in my room. I’ll be right back. Wait here,” she requests. You nod and she leaves with her present. You respectfully turn your gaze to the appetizers, not wanting to ogle her backside. 

“Cowabunga, dude! What the hell are you wearing?”

“No way. I almost wore the same thing. Good thing I didn’t or that would be embarrassing.”

You roll your eyes, turning around to see Sam and Rhodey, both clearly amused by their own jokes. You give them an unimpressed look and they laugh harder. 

“Haha. So very funny,” you deadpan.

“Seriously, Y/N, why are you wearing that? It’s like a thousand degrees,” Rhodey asks. 

“Maybe I’m insecure and you guys laughing just makes me feel worse? Maybe thought of that?” you retort, but neither buy it. They look at each other and start laughing. 

“Insecure, my ass. You almost give Tony Stark a run for his money in the size of ego,” Sam says between laughs. You just roll your eyes.

Wanda returns to find the guys pressing you about the long sleeves. 

“Hey, Wanda. I think you might have given Johnny Kapahala the wrong address. She’s gonna be late for the competition,” Sam jokes and you hate that you get the joke. Wanda doesn’t and looks adorably confused. All she knows is they’re referring to you so she looks at you for an explanation but you ignore her in order to throw your own remark.

“At least Johnny wasn’t afraid to swim at the beach,” you bite, making Rhodey and Wanda laugh and Sam take offense.

“There are sharks!” Sam defends himself, making you all laugh. 

The three of you help Wanda bring out the appetizers to the backyard. They’ve got a table and a bunch of chairs laid around. Wanda asks if you’d like a drink and goes to fetch one for the two of you while you greet other friends. 

“You didn’t want one?” You ask her when she returns with only one drink. “If we’re going to be beer pong partners, you can’t leave me drinking alone.”

She giggles and takes a swig from your drink. “Happy?” She asks when she returns the drink to you and smirks upon seeing the slight blush on your cheeks. 

You get a few more remarks about the rashguard but with a few drinks in everyone’s system, the pool is more enticing than poking fun at you. You didn’t plan to get in the pool but with a simple “come on” from Wanda, you’re cannonball jumping into the deep end. 

Once it’s dark, you all begin to vacate the pool in order to play games. You and Wanda play two games of beer pong seeing as neither of you are very good and you think you’ll surely be sick if you play another round. 

You eat, you dance, you sit around and talk to your friends, and Wanda is with you the whole time. It’s midnight and you’re right beside her as everyone sings for her and Pietro. She hands you the first slice of cake, which you eat standing up just to stay next to her as she cuts a piece for everyone. 

It’s nearing 2am as people begin to leave. Wanda and Pietro make sure everyone is getting home safely, either taking a LIFT or having a designated driver. You and Tony stay later to help the twins clean up, which they greatly appreciate.

Almost an hour later, the house looks as if there hadn’t been a party. You and Tony wish them happy birthday once more before he pulls out his phone to call an Uber. The twins insist you two stay, that it is way too late and they’d feel better if you do.

Tony wiggles his eyebrows discreetly at you when Wanda invites you to sleep in her room. You spare him a warning glance before following Wanda to her room. She offers you some pajamas and hands you a long sleeved tshirt like you ask. You excuse her questioning glance saying you get cold at night. 

You change in the bathroom. When you return, you find Wanda also in her pajamas sitting on her bed with the present you gave her earlier in her hand. 

“You want to open that now?” You ask, amused at her eagerness to open it.

“I mean it is my birthday now,” she reasons. You nod, closing the door and going to sit next to her. “Or is this one of those ‘open when you’re alone’ presents?”

You quirk an eyebrow. “What kind of presents are those?”

“One of those romantic ones like in the movies that show that you’ve always loved me or something,” she replies. Your palms feel sweaty all of a sudden with the way she stares at you. She reads the nervousness on your face and takes pity, continuing, “Or a vibrator.”

You burst in giggles. “Damn it. How’d you know?” you joke. 

It’s not a vibrator, obviously. You got her two necklaces, one gold with her name and the other sterling silver with her initials.

“I was going to just get you the gold one but then I thought maybe you wanted one to match all those rings you wear so, that’s why there are two,” you explain.

She puts the box aside and throws her arms around you, pulling you flush into her. “Thank you. I love them.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I could totally return those and get you a vibrator if that's what you want,” you laugh. She pulls back immediately, a frown on her face. 

“No, they already have my name,” she protests, pulling a chuckle from you. She hands you the golden one that says ‘Wanda’ and asks, “Will you put this one on me?”

At your nod, she twists around, turning her back to you and sweeping her hair up. You struggle with the clasp a little due to your nervousness, but you get it. Had you paid closer attention, you would have noticed how Wanda shivered at your touch. 

She turns back around and you admire her with your gift around her neck. “It looks great on you.” 

She leans toward you again and you assume it’s to give you another hug, which you wouldn’t mind one bit, but she doesn’t move her head to the side the way one does to hug someone. Her nose bumps into yours and you realize she’s going to kiss you. 

For some damn reason you pull away before her lips reach yours. She looks embarrassed and begins to apologize, “Sorry, I misread that. I thought with the present and the way you’ve been looking at me all day, shit.”

“No, you didn’t misread anything,” you reassure her. She relaxes. “Can we try that again? I was just nervous, but I’m ready now.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Wait.” You get up and make a show of shaking off the nerves and pumping yourself up before you sit back down. “Okay, now I’m ready.”

She giggles, grabbing your face and pulling you into her, kissing the life out of you. She moves to lie back on the bed and you follow her lead. You’re kissing and it’s getting hot and she tugs on your shirt. You remove it without a second thought. You begin kissing down her neck pulling sweet noises when you leave a love bite. She gasps and grips your arm, right above your elbow. 

You flinch in pain. The sudden intake of breath tips her off and she pulls her hand away. She asks worriedly, “Are you okay?”

You remember the tattoo and the fact that it’s not so hidden right now. You start to panic. “Yep, why? Are you okay?”

She narrows her eyes in suspicion, but you kiss her with the intention to make her forget. A minute later, she does it again, grabbing right on that spot. You try not to, but she hears the small groan and she pulls away. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong,” you lie. 

“Then why do you flinch every time I grab your arm?” She moves to grab your arm again to prove a point but you move it away.

“Nothing’s wrong with my arm,” you deny. She sits up and reaches for your arm. Once more you pull out of reach. 

“Y/N, let me see your arm,” she demands. 

“Okay.” You try to save yourself from some of the embarrassment by explaining, “But before you look, just know I did it on a drunken dare and I didn’t know until the day after what Tony actually wrote.”

That piques her curiosity and she shuffled around you to take a look at your arm. You can’t watch, so you hide your face behind the palm of your other hand. You expect her to either laugh at you or get upset, but moments pass and you don’t hear anything. 

You get the nerve to look over your shoulder at Wanda. She looks indecisive about what she wants to say, but she doesn’t look mad. Finally, she says, “I guess I don’t have to ask if you like me or not.”

You groan in embarrassment, hiding your face again. She laughs and pulls you into her as she lies back down. “Don’t laugh. It’s embarrassing enough getting your crush’s name tattooed on you. I don’t need her to actually make fun of me.”

“Aww, you have a crush on me?” she coos. 

You pull away, giving her a deadpan look. “No, I get girls’ names tattooed on me all the time.”

“Having your crush’s name tattooed is embarrassing,” she agrees.

You narrow your eyes, thinking she's just making fun of you now and that was the last thing you need but she continues, “So how about we say it’s your girlfriend’s name?”

Your eyes widen. Wanda bites her lip nervously, waiting for your answer, and that’s how you know she’s serious. You blush, “That would be less embarrassing.”

“I think so too. So what do you say?” She asks, wanting a clear answer.

“I would love to be your girlfriend,” you answer.

She smiles and kisses you. You can’t help the giddy laughter that comes after. 

“You know, he didn't do too bad. It’s pretty well-proportioned.”

[eyrieofsynapses]

Redemption Panel Highlights and Reactions

GATORS

i.e., Beth Riesgraf and Christian Kane (mostly Beth) talking about filming the scenes in (what I presume is) The Rollin’ on the River Job, where they’re pulling some stuff out of the water, and finding out the next day that there was an absolutely massive alligator pulled out of the same place just a little while after they filmed it

Beth’s impression of the wildlife folks warning them about the alligators

Beth scaring the hell out of Noah Wyle by yelling “GATOR” at him just after he finished his scene

seriously that was an absolutely WILD part of the panel

Everyone showering Aleyse Shannon with literally all the love!

Aldis Hodge in particular big-brothering her, and also the older actors calling her out for not giving herself enough credit, and Dean Devlin talking about how she blew him away at the auditions with her ability to turn on a dime

Seeing Kane with his glasses off wiping at his eyes, momentarily thinking “you okay dude?” and then realizing that he was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes

(same)

The The Bucket Job clip! I’ve been a bit meh on a lot of Redemption, just in how it didn’t feel quite right, but that is possibly the absolute closest I’ve seen it get to the original in the best way. Brilliant

Which comes as no surprise since BETH RIESGRAF directed the episode!!! And apparently put an insane amount of effort in!

Beth’s utter delight and joy at both directing the episode and having the crew behind her

THE CHAIR

So apparently she and Christian went to town on the fight scene and he winds up tied up in a chair somewhere along the line and there’s a whole wild scene, which I am really looking forward to

Beth knowing how insanely particular he’d be about things like zip ties vs rope and what kind of rope e.t.c. e.t.c.

Apparently this is also tied into a VERY DEEP scene with Eliot? It sounds like they’re going to go super hard on his backstory, which is terrifyingly exciting

Just. Beth and Christian going very hard on that episode together

Speaking of: the panel’s going amazingly, I’m laughing so hard my stomach hurts, things are relatively light, and then, of fucking course—

Kane hitting us over the head about Eliot being a mass murderer who can’t be redeemed, is trying to stay static so that he can maintain the place he’s in, and is thus LIVING VICARIOUSLY THROUGH HARRY

What the FUCK. This is of course incredibly insightful and perfectly on point (because it’s Kane) but also, EXCUSE ME, OUCH, why would you DO THAT to us?

Everyone talking about having their families on set and their kids!

Beth’s son growing up on the original Leverage set and now going into being a director himself!

Gina’s daughter also growing up on set!

Noah Wyle’s daughter is playing Harry’s daughter I REPEAT NOAH WYLE’S ACTUAL DAUGHTER IS PLAYING AS HARRY’S DAUGHTER

Gina Bellman remaining relatively stoic throughout much of the panel (seriously, this woman, how the heck does she do it) and then losing it when they’re asked about running/inside jokes

A lot of them are, of course, apparently not appropriate to be spoken on-panel

(A lot of the others are the little inside ones that are special enough not to be ones they want to share, which is sweet!)

Everyone collectively losing it over having LeVar Burton on for The Bucket Job

Devlin and everyone laughing about collecting the various Star Trek people on Leverage

Beth talking about Burton coming over while she’s getting ready and asking her if she’s living on coffee and water, her laughing because he was absolutely right, and then him gently reminding her to remember to eat, which is the sweetest thing in the world oh my gods

Kane apparently choreographing an intense scene with Burton and being scared out of his mind, because Burton really wanted to go for it, but to Kane it was like he’s a figurine that’s not to be messed with because he was so worried about hurting him

Kane choreographing a massive amount of the show, which I knew already, but seriously, this guy blows me away

Gina and the crew talking about how he’d be away for a day of shooting a fight and all of them would be missing him and thinking about him

Family Vibes

Everyone talking about how they’re very noisy and loud together on set and it’s a bit like walking into a group of people having Christmas dinner (or something to that effect) because they’re just Like That together

Aleyse being the most surprised by Beth when she met her because she was like a little angel of light during the auditions but turned out to be an absolute ball of wild energy on set

Gina going “wait you were a MODEL” at Beth

Aldis talking about how much he loved how Parker and Hardison’s relationship had developed and grown!

Also, Aldis apologizing when the New York (iirc) background noise got loud and everyone going “no no we get you”

His outfit is ON POINT today

Gina saying that Christian is the goofiest and wildest out of them in terms of humor

(she goes “some of you may not know this,” which, fair, but also, if you’ve seen more than ten minutes of this guy outside of character you know he’s an absolute ball of sunshine)

Gina, Beth, and Christian talking about how they’d challenge each other to stay off sweets back on the original set, because they knew they needed to stay in shape and also just because they’re competitive (apparently all of them are major sweet tooths) and hide brownies and things from each other, while Aldis is just. doing pushups. eating all the healthy stuff. and then wanders into the room with a literal cupful of chocolates

(and Aldis going “well yeah I have to work off the sweets SOMEHOW”)

Beth explaining that sometimes they’d order a “Kane burrito” from Christian and he’d alter it slightly

Like, you know, chopping up hot jalapenos super fine and mixing them in, and Beth practically not being able to talk after the first bite

Apparently Aldis still went back a lot even after that

(Christian just seems very pleased with himself over it)

(THESE PEOPLE)

Gina goes “hey we should have an episode where we all swap roles,” Devlin going “WAIT FOR SEASON ONE TO BE DONE,” and then somebody (maybe the moderator?? I don’t remember exactly) going “uh actually. We did that”

Cue immediate scramble of “WAIT WHICH JOB WAS THAT”

(paraphrasing) “Yeah you remember the bit where you put on Parker’s harness and went off a building?”

Turns out half the cast had actually forgotten that that existed and only remember when reminded

The original cast all think of the episodes as “jobs”!!!!

Everyone talking over each other, Devlin going “it was with Sterling when we blew up the offices,” deciding that it was the season one finale, and then trying to figure out what episode title it was (eventually they figure out it’s the David jobs)

Moderator and Devlin accurately commenting that the fans know the show much better than they do

Noah Wyle very correctly explaining how Electric Entertainment is like a family and Devlin just. Keeps people

Aleyse and Aldis talking about typing when they’re hacking and going “WHAT THE HECK DO WE TYPE”

Aldis goes “yeah I just type all the bad words that we’re not allowed to say”

Aleyse saying that she’s always a little worried they’re hiding a Word document behind the blue screen and they’re going to pull up what she’s typing at the end of the day and print it out and put it in her trailer going “what the HECK is this”

Noah talking about filming The Golf Job and just getting to direct Jason Marsters and Christian together

Apparently their dynamic in that episode accurately mirrors the one with their characters in Angel!

Which promptly goes straight to the comment that it was very hard to make Marsters look like a golfer (pfft)

(Also apparently Christian plays golf for fun with his friends? Not necessarily something I would’ve thought of!)

Aleyse happily talking about how she loved the dynamic on set and it was very different from what she was used to

Also Aleyse talking about doing stunts and everyone else praising her for going whole hog

Beth especially praising her for the bit where she’s hit with the paralysis injection (I don’t remember which ep it’s from) and her acting for it, because it was incredibly hard to drop off screen in the particular way she did

Aleyse promptly answers that she was terrified with some of those, especially one where she had to keep a clock from falling and breaking

Everyone discussing how they see a new aspect of Breanna’s character in The Train Job

Also, to get serious for a moment, Kate Rorick in particular talks about how Breanna’s part of Gen Z and how we didn’t get the “days of yore” where everything was chill. We’ve basically been living in a world of hostility the whole time. It’s something I deeply appreciate, as someone who’s part of that group, and I love how they emphasize that for us.

This panel was pure chaos and I loved every moment of it! My stomach was actually hurting from laughing so hard, I swear. They had me cackling well over half the time. I would happily take panels double or triple the length of this, this was amazing. I also adore how the second you drop these six people in a room together, they immediately take off and literally just run and give you everything you wanted and more. (It is also evidently very hard to get them to STOP talking.)

I’m also just going to stop and take a second to fawn over the effects for the 3D room. It’s gorgeous—I love how they replicated the headquarters, especially with the stained glass ceilings! Super impressive, especially with all the photos, and I just love the whole thing. Kudos to whoever put that together.

Anyway, I’m definitely missing some stuff too; seriously, there wasn’t a second wasted in this thing, they were cracking some kind of joke or dropping some really interesting piece of information practically every thirty seconds. (And I haven’t even gotten into the clips OR the bloopers. I miiiight do a separate reaction purely for those.) It’s still up right now if you missed it and you want to watch it! I’ll probably watch it again, honestly.

[opuestocomplementario]

love in the air ep7 review

Context: I tried so hard not to spoil today's episode. Mission accomplished. I did not, in fact, get spoiled. So I watched it just now and I wanted to talk about it because obviously I had to. 

(I can finally scroll to every single social media that I own; that was literally killing me, i will never put myself through that again)

Let’s start with the MOST IMPORTANT THING: PrapaiSky

Prapai: my god this man is so freaking fine. Every scene was *chef’s kiss*. Can we acknowledge his voice? Oh my god Fort I didn’t know you could speak like that. Amazing honestly. I love it. The way that he smiles too, how can we resist? I am actually so excited to see him act as Prapai because Prapai is a fun character but also is supposed to be an adult and a “dangerous, professional, playboy” one which I normally hate in other shows because they always look like assholes, but Prapai/Fort looks like such a nice guy is actually insane how he can pull both looks. I love his way to getting Sky numer from Rain, like he knew those little shits where so eager to fuck and he did not care at all. Also, he canceling his meeting for that one moment is so amazing to me; that’s what a whipped man does

Sky. Babe, yes, you are the moment. I actually didn’t think he was going to be of my enjoyment because, again, like Prapai, these types of characters are playing in such an annoying way and are not fun after a while, but Sky/Peat has been delivering everything since we first saw him. So yes, I am also excited to see him more, and see more facets of this character, especially the horny one. YES, I WANT TO SEE A CHARACTER THAT’S SO GOOD IN BED THAT HE MADE A GROWN MAN CANCELED HIS WORKS MEETING JUST TO BE WITH HIM. I honestly love his relationship with Rain. Is so pure and amazing how they stand for each other and how Rain seeks comfort and help from him. 

That is something that I appreciate in this drama: the relationships aside from romantics. Friends and family are sometimes really hard to portray because it is hard to make a whole cast of people get well with each other, but they did. Idk if is the main or what, but everyone feels connected somehow, and they seem to get along well. Sky’s dad and Rain’s mom are so funny and cool, I wanted to see more of them. And Daddy Chai did his thing with that asshole but I will get to him later. 

Rain. If people could see how much I talk about him they can eventually figure out that he is my favorite character of the show so far. I just love how Nouel portrayed him, and how cute and funny he is on screen. I already talked about his development but seriously, what great writing. I really liked the scenes of him being kidnapped, even though they're hilarious and I couldn't take them seriously, Nouel has a thing for screaming, he does it well. 

Phayu. I can't get enough of him, he can do everything. I really like the way Boss portrays his character when he worries and he tries so hard not to do the things the asshole said to him. I feel like he can play more dramatic characters besides the “bad boy” if he keeps on this track. But overall I feel like he literally shines when he plays playful and flirty guys. He just does so well. He is so charismatic and makes everything fit together. The scene where he was with Rain’s friends was so good. Usually when seniors approach younger ones there is this air of awkwardness and discomfort because of the age gap, but here, it was like they were comfortable talking to him like you would with a cool adult. 

The relationship between Rain and Phayu is definitely one for the books. They had the chemistry that’s been missing for so long in other couples. They look so good together, they talk and act like a couple which I love to see. I like when the characters keep acting like they want to be together even after they get official. Like the spark is still there. I love the hornyness, i love the communication, the cuteness and the little kisses. 

I also thought that I would hate the fact that Phayu knew Rain and “broke” his car so he could fix him and therefore meet him, but keeping in mind that he is a mechanic and wasn’t any danger and most of his flirting was teasing, I can understand it. 

So, the whole kidnapping thing. It was fun, it was dramatic, it had fights, some talk and action. Overall, It did live up to the expectation. I feel like it was unnecessary of course keeping in mind that the plot was the romance and we already had a romance going on, but I think it is a way to connect the dark sides of the ilegal races with the story of Sky. So i don’t mind. Like, LITA it feels like a fanfic, but a wattpad one, so I don’t really care that it is not perfectly written. Sometimes we need trash stories in shows and we need to learn to accept them. But the actors did a good job portraying what they had to. Daddy Chai obviously stole the show, which I also think is understandable if he is an older actor and a more experienced one. I feel like giving dramatic scenes and very heavy ones to BossNouel will end up a lot like JaFirst where they were good, but not that good, and it felt a little fake. 

So overall, the episode was a lot to take, but in a good way. The action stuff was not overwhelming, and we had a lot of cute moments of the couple just talking about their feelings (which we all love because communication is our number one priority, always) and we got more scenes where Phayu and Prapai were together (if I don’t have more of them i swear i'm going to thailand to make them film more scenes idc) and WE GOT PRAPAISKY, separately, but we got them.

[shotorozu]

relationship realizations

— ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦ 3k followers milestone

character(s) : multiple characters (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk not mentioned

note(s) : happy 3k ‼️ thank you all for all the love, and most especially those that continue to send love, and indulge in my works. further context, this is what the bnha boys/men learned by being with you :))

»»————-　♡　————-««

midoriya izuku

↮ that his opinion does matter. okay— it’s not like you handed his confidence to him, no that’s different. but, you are a main contributor to the sudden increase of confidence in himself. before, he was just so used to be brushed aside, other people being told to ignore him whenever he does this, and for his rambles to be ignored like white noise— but after you showed up and spent some time with him, he realizes that it’s not the end of the world if he does ramble, and it’s not the end of the world to not be confident about your opinions 100% of the time, but what does matter is that his opinion was heard. which ultimately lead to him being more confident in expressing his own opinions, not caring if it’s apart of the vase majority, or the minority. he’ll forever love you for this.

todoroki shouto

↮ that taking your time isn’t abnormal. shouto, being someone that had little to no set example of what romance is, and being exposed to romance comedies, and tv shows— made him realize something. that people were already kissing on the first date, and he felt well,, under developed because of it. he was never the biggest fan of physical touch, it’s not to say that he never wanted to kiss you, he always does want to, but— he won’t just kiss you just because it’s the first date, or because the movies said so, even as much as he wanted to, no. that’s not what he wanted. he felt worried that he was moving too slowly, compared to the examples he’s seen online but— you say things differently. you allowed him to take his time, showing him patience as you peck him on his temples, and he couldn’t be more grateful to love someone like you.

bakugou katsuki

↮ that being vunerable isn’t a bad idea. you’re even aware of the many few boundaries katsuki has set up for himself— like no pda. which, you’re perfectly fine with, but katsuki hated the idea of being vunerable because well,, people shoved him onto this pedestal at a very young age, he’s thee bakugou katsuki, there’s no room for vulnerability (or so he thinks) besides all might and deku, you’re really the only one that has seen the vulnerable bakugou katsuki, not the loud and explosive one everyone is used to. he was repulsed by the idea, but after the first time he allowed himself to cry on your lap, shedding tears as he trembles in your caring embrace— he realized that he has someone, and that someone wouldn’t care for the world if he wasn’t this big and strong person 24/7. he won’t say it out loud, but he’s incredibly thankful

kaminari denki

↮ that people do take him seriously. nearly everyone sees this man as this.. class clown, goof ball, and that he’s ‘stupid’ or he’s ‘lacking braincells’ most of the time, and that’s all they make him out to be. denki doesn’t like drowning in self pity, but he can’t help it, why doesn’t anyone take him seriously? but wait, that’s when you come along. it was heartbreaking to say the least when you saw how shocked he was when you wanted to hear his plans and ideas. to anyone else, it might appear to be the bare minimum, but it’s everything to denki. to be taken seriously when the time says so, to be treated like the next person with ambitions. sure, he loves being a jokester, he loves making people laugh, but he can’t bite back the smile, when he sees you worry about him after every short circuit, and kiss him on the cheek whenever he comes back to his senses.

shinsou hitoshi

↮ that not everyone’s opinion is valid. okay hear me out, that might be considered a bad thing, but it’s really not. in fact, it’s a good thing. hitoshi’s just used to hearing sugar coated and backhanded compliments being thrown his way, people saying that “you’d be a good villain, at least!” but, he doesn’t want to be a villain. sometimes they’re not even backhanded, and he’s just used to accepting it as it is. because, everyone has been thinking that way, since well— he first manifested his quirk. but that’s when you come along, and blow away his expectations. you weren’t afraid to tell him the truth, that he shouldn’t have allowed all of them to insult him like that, since he deserved all of the good that was in the world. that wasn’t the part that stuck out the most, but it was the part where you told him that it’s the intent that mattered, and who cares if his quirk seems villainous, as long as he meant well? for once in his life, he stopped paying attention to the senseless comments, and focused on what really mattered— you.

kirishima eijirou

↮ that you don’t need a flashy quirk to be honorable. his quirk, while it took some time for it to be in the state that it is today, it has always been an insecurity of his, not that he’d admit that. that he can’t create big explosions or large glaciers of ice like bakugou or todoroki, or he can’t create whatever he desired like yaoyorozu, he just felt,, plain sometimes. which was something he never voiced out in such a blunt manner before, since he always presented himself as this cheery dude that’s always ready for the occasion. it might be easy, he probably curses at himself for being under your spell a little bit too easily, but he feels great whenever you praise him for his hard work, and especially his quirk. even when the insecurity slips out by accident, and when you’re questioned if you really meant that, you stay true to your statement, and that was an eye opener.

amajiki tamaki

↮ that there are other ways of being strong. look, it’s not like tamaki’s quirk is weak— in fact, it’s the very opposite, but his self esteem, and the absence of a sociable personality does take a toll on him sometimes. he feels like he can’t do anything right, especially when he mutters, messes up on what he wants to say, more importantly when he has an idea on what to say. he feels helpless, compared to the other two strong personalities of UA’s big three. and that’s why, you’ve showed him that shyness is completely normal and fine, and it’s not just him that struggles with socializing— and besides, tamaki does have other strong points, like his ability to be considerate with his actions, and his carefully selected words of affirmation whenever he sits next to you on a date. tamaki might be socially uh.. weak sometimes, but he’s come to realize that it’s fine, since he has other strong parts!

monoma neito

↮ that he won’t be forgotten, and also— that being nice to class 1-A doesn’t sound that bad. come to think of it, neito DOES have a nice side in him, but it’s just not exposed to class 1-A for several different reasons (that are layered) when he was younger, he was told that his quirk wasn’t that spectacular, people have underestimated his quirk a lot. not because it’s ‘boring’ but because it just ‘copies other quirks,’ and has no individual attributes. thus, lead neito to act out as an attempt to stand out and not be ‘boring.’ in reality, neito doesn’t realize that he’s anything close to that, and that he can be remembered in the best ways. like, when you first saw his room, and it was covered in pastels, and whenever he sees you, the first thing he says is a compliment. who would’ve guessed it from him? and most importantly, when he is nice to class 1-A, he finds himself laughing at amusement— and he thinks ‘hey! this,, isn’t bad.’ it’s a slowburn for him to finally act like how he is with his class but hey, process!

dabi todoroki touya

↮ that he needs someone. how ironic, a villain— needing someone, and all for what? just to be abandoned for someone better? no thanks. you didn’t actually shove it in his face for him to realize it but, you did contribute to it. his staples were starting to falling off again after another gruesome mission, dabi didn’t feel like plucking them out himself, but he knows that he has to— he went to go pick them off, until, you come in. a stapler in your hand, as you practically make him sit tightly as you replaced the staples. it stings, not that he’ll ever admit that, he’ll just stick to making fun at you in such dabi fashion. but ugh, there’s that warmth again everytime he looks at you. it’s not the cruel burn, similar to his quirk— but it’s,, gentle. it makes him want to disembowel himself, but he doesn’t mind it when you touch the cool metal. just,, get out of his face before he decides to flame you, all just because he learned that he needs someone (he won’t actually flame you but ugh, he’s still dealing with that kind of warmth you’re making him feel)

»»————-　♡　————-««

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i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[writerofshit]

For almost 3 years the crew doesn't know when Matt's birthday is. This is solely because he never brought it up and sometimes the crew thinks he might have sprouted, fully formed, in front of a computer monitor roughly ten years ago. He didn't. He does in fact have a birthday.

When the crew finally realizes this, Trevor takes one for the team in trying to figure it out. He makes a point to bring it up all nonchalantly, 'yeah, Lindsay says you do that because you're a Virg-....Aquari-... Gemini?' complete with arched eyebrows and wide eyes.

And Matt's an observant guy, yeah, but more so when it comes to patterns in bank transactions or when the local donut shop has his favorite donuts available. People, even friends, are another story entirely. So he just shrugs. 'what does me being a Gemini have to do with liking mustard on a hot dog?'

But Trevor doesn't have an answer for that, of course, because it was bullshit to begin with. Instead he mumbles something about stars and time and relish, scurries off to tell Jeremy what he's learned. Which isn't much, sure, but at least they've got a window now.

The entire crew spends a ridiculous amount of time dropping opinions on May and June dates. 'yeah I'd hate to be born on June 2nd. Wouldn't you, Matt?' and 'May 27th is my favorite date for sure. What's yours, Matt?' and 'i've never met someone with the same birthday as me, May 23rd. Have you, Matt?'

And again, yeah, Matt's an observant guy. Most people, in fact, are probably observant enough to notice when an entire group of criminals act really fucking weird about the calendar. But again, Matt's observant about things like tiny movements on camera feeds or that there's not extra onion on this burger, actually. So he shrugs and says 'yeah I knew someone growing up who was June 6th. We used to argue about who could have a party. I always lost.' like this isn't information the entire crew has been fishing for over the last month. They probably could have asked outright and Matt wouldn't have cared.

It's honestly kind of annoying.

The week his birthday rolls around again, they go all out. Big ass fucking party, invite everyone they can think of. Every old friend not turned enemy, crews they've talked about working with but never got around to, minor celebrities they know Matt will get a kick out of toasting in his honor. It might actually be the biggest party or event or goddamn crowd Los Santos has ever seen. All there for Matt. All celebrating this guy most people have never seen.

It's a kickass time. Matt gets hoisted up and sung to, then Michael, then Fiona, then someone Matt is sure he's never met. 'It's a cover.' Jeremy drunkenly yells in his ear. 'So no one knows who's really you.' It's a sentence that's not quite right, but Matt appreciates the sentiment. It's also probably not even accurate, given that he was the first up and they've made him cut a cake on a stage, for some godforsaken reason. It's the thought that counts, though.

All in all, Matt thinks it might be the most fun he has ever had.

Two days later, on his actual birthday, it's almost the complete opposite. In terms of scale, at least. It's just the crew, up in the old penthouse Geoff swore he'd sold. He hadn't, of course. Never could bring himself to pull the trigger on it.

It's pizza and beer and donuts and cupcakes. It's Mario Kart and Ultimate Chicken Horse and a game of Monopoly that's played in teams, somehow. It's stories that reach all the way back to an alleyway, three idiots pointing guns at each other because they had no idea what they would become, what they'd join into. Jeremy says they were 'pretty sure Matt had never held a fucking gun before that' and Trevor agrees wholeheartedly.

They try to pick their favorite 'Matt's playing music over the loud speakers during a fucking bank robbery' song. It's a tie between Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go ('because i knocked out that fuckin' guard and he thought it was funny!' Michael yells. 'who the fuck thinks of that?' and Call Me Maybe ('because god forbid i take one breath before I answer him. I wasn't even in the bank, i was across the fucking street playing lookout! I only heard it through somebody's earpiece.' Alfredo says, rolling his eyes.)

When the night winds down, and it's no longer Matt's birthday but they're still pretending it is, Jack brings out an apple with a candle stuck in it and Geoff cries with laughter. 'you're getting older, Matt, you gotta eat more fruit.' she says. Matt argues that he does eat fruit, he had a lemon lime flavored cupcake at the party.

There's one whole serious moment during all of it. Things get quiet, Geoff not quite meeting anyone's eyes. 'y'know, Matt, we all make a lot of jokes. We call you an asshole, tell you we hate the plans you make. I don't know how many times I've said I regret hiring you, or any of you, really. And, uh, yeah, sometimes it's true.' It earns him a chuckle from around the room, and he clears his throat. 'but seriously, you're, uh, you're one of the best fuckin people I know. All of you are. And we're lucky to have you. We love you, man.'

Nobody cries, because this is a group of hardened criminals who rob banks and blow up buildings and kill people, sometimes, so of course they don't fucking cry. They do, however, somehow all find themselves with a serious case of the sniffles, all wipe totally non existent tears from their cheeks.

No one says anything, for a long moment, not even Matt. He should be saying thank you, or telling them how much he loves them too, or hell, even cracking a joke. He can't seem to find the words, though.

Jack holds up her beer. 'to Matt.' she says. Around the room, various drinks go up almost immediately, and there's a not even close to in sync chorus of 'to Matt.'

No, tonight is not nearly as grand or extravagant as the party two days ago. There are no expensive cars being raced, no crowds of people shouting 'Axial!', no stages or celebrities or fireworks. This is just his family, together.

It is the best birthday he's ever had.

[frankiekatt]

Wowy hii, saw that you're writing for slasher, so here I am!

Can I plz have some hcs about any slashers with s/o, but their s/o is a literal gremlin, like they're not serious at all, always joking and annoying people around, but sometimes might be quite soft and quiet.

Thank you and have a nice day! ❤️

This was fun to write lmao

Warnings: Sexual harassment, NSFW, murder, blood, canabilism

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Billy Lenz, Stu Macher, Michal Myers

Slashers With An S/O That Never Takes Anything Seriously:

Thomas Hewitt:

Thomas is a little overwhelmed by your personality at first.

He’s a quiet and reserved man who’s never had any kind of friends, so goofiness and jokes can make him feel uneasy at first.

But!! He gets used to everything very quickly!!!

Thomas loves everything about you and he finds you to be incredibly charming.

He can get a little anxious when he sees you annoying Hoyt because he doesn’t want his uncle to do anything bad to you in irritation/retaliation.

Your jokes are always a stress reliever for him, since he spends most of his days in a dark basement, surrounded by blood and gore. Your humor just shines a little bit of light on his day, and he loves you for that!

While Luda Mae and Hoyt might not like the fact that you never take anything seriously, Thomas finds it relieving. At the beginning of your relationship, Thomas was terrified of losing you because he thought you would be terrified of all screams, murder, and cannabilism, but he was pleasantly surprised to see that you didn’t pay much mind to it.

Thomas’ family mostly saw you as a clown, but Thomas could only ever look at you as the brightest ray of sunshine that has ever graced his life.

After all, he was the only one that saw your softer side.

Your soft and quiet side mostly shone through during the evening. Something about the sunset and cicada chirping calmed your heart.

You would often take Thomas by the hand and lead him outside to sit on the front porch with you, so the two of you could cuddle and watch the sunset together.

Thomas was always so used to your voice, because you loved to talk about anything and everything, so your temporary quiet nature was new, yet comforting.

During these moments, there didn’t need to be any talking between the two of you. You deep emotional bond allowed you both to communicate through actions.

You would lay your head on Thomas shoulder, stroking his chest, and Thomas would wrap his big arms around your smaller frame, resting his masked cheek against the top of your head.

This was Thomas’ way of saying, “I love you, you’re the best thing in my life,” and your way of saying “I could never live without you.”

Bo Sinclair:

:|

You’re gonna annoy the fuck out of this boy

Sometimes you both wonder how the two of you even got together, but the nights you and Bo spent pleasuring each other, going round after round, reminded you both how. (Your both just sexy okay its that simple)

Bo was a serious guy, so he was a little miffed that he was always the one having to take the lead in everything since you just couldn’t stop making a joke out of everything.

Sometimes you would actually make him really irritated due to your tendency to irk people endlessly, so he would have to step away to cool off and blow off some steam.

Sometimes he would yell at you in anger, which always made him feel like shit after, so he tended to stalk off to his shop to calm down before speaking to you.

You would have to go see him a couple hours later to wrap your arms around him from behind and shyly apologize to him.

He favored these moments the most.

Your voice quieter than usual, focusing on just him, touching him gently.

He would always accept your apologies, of course, and would let you know by kissing your lips softly.

Bo liked to take advantage of your softer side by lifting you up by your waist and setting you on the hood of whatever car he had been working on and kissing down your neck.

As revenge, Bo liked to draw out his teasing as long as possible. Kissing down your neck, chest, stomach, massaging your pussy through your skirt, palming your breast roughly.

It gets to a point where you just have to tell him, “Bo, I need you to fuck me.”

And he would oblige.

He would take you right then and there, on the hood of the car.

The metal beneath you was always shockingly cold, making you shiver against Bo’s chest.

“You cold, Darlin,” Bo would ask teasingly as he pulled your panties off. “Don’t worry, I’ll warm you right up.”

He would spend hours licking your pretty pink pussy if he could. He licks and sucks and kisses your most intimate part until you're shaking and crying above him, begging him to fuck you sensless.

After he’s satisfied with your helplessness, he’ll lean back up and ram himself inside of you. There have been many nights where he has taken you gently and slowly in his garage, holding your hand with every thrust, kissing your sweet lips to quiet your whimpers, but tonight was different. There was a primal need shared between you two. Bo wanted to let his frustrations on through loving you, and you wanted to be taken hard and fast.

When the two of you are done, you lounge around inside the car to catch your breath, holding hands. Everything seems so perfect.

Until-

“Hey, Bo? What did the toaster say to the slice of bread?”

“.....”

“I want you inside me! Eh ha ha..”

:////

Lester Sinclair:

!!!!!

You like constantly joking and never taking things seriously? He does too!!

Lester would find you absolutely hilarious. Every joke you cracked would have him doubling over in laughter. Which would make you double over in laughter. Which would make Lester laugh harder, because now you both have the giggles and both of your laughs are just too infectious.

Everytime the two of you would go to Ambrose to visit his brothers, you guys would annoy the hell out of Bo and Vincent. Bo just wants to be left alone to work in his shop but instead he’s stuck listening to you tell a 40 minutes story about how you burnt dinner last night.

And Vincent just wants to be left alone to paint and sculpt but instead he’s here listening to Lester crack jokes that are a.) not funny and b.) don’t make any sense. -_-

Your and Lester’s trailer is always filled with so much love and laughter and the two of you could not be any happier.

You both have your own soft and quiet moments that hit at random times.

Sometimes it happens when the two of you are play fighting in the living room, howling with laughter. You both fall to the floor, wrestling and giggling until the both of you run out of breath and just gaze at each other as you lay on the carpet.

“You look so cute,” he giggles.

“No, YOU look so cute!”

“W-well!!! I love you!!”

“Uhm...well...I love you MORE.”

And it just turns into an argument about who adores the other more.

Billy Lenz (1974):

The perfect couple.

Literally.

The two of you are always joking around, cackling and goofing about every little thing.

Billy has finally found his soulmate and he could not be happier.

He two of you prank the sorority girls together, making sex sounds in unison to sound even more vulgar.

Everytime you crack a joke, you get worried Billy is joking because of how hard he’s laughing.

“Umm Billy you okay? It wasn’t even that funny.”

“HA haha...piggy makes me laugh...Billy loves your jokes.”

Needless to say, your relationship is filled with smiles, laughter, and praise.

Billy will tell you you’re the funniest person he’s ever met and he wants to keep you forever.

You tell Billy you love how much he laughs at your antics and that you can’t live without him.

It’s impossible to annoy Billy. It’s just not feasible.

Any time you try, he’ll just giggle and pat your head, telling you you’re his ‘favorite piggy ever.’

He LOVES when you annoy the sorority girls thoug!

Hearing you moan and squeal and speak so sexily vulgarly to Barb and Jess makes Billy so proud. And horny.

Almost all of your sexual encounters are filled with complete silliness.

Sometimes, however, the joking and cackling subside. The two of you will just be chilling, nothing else to do, and you just feel the need to profess your love for your boyfriend.

“I love you so much Billy.”

Billy will look startled at your sudden outburst, before he breaks out in a huge grin, launching across the room to tackle you into a hug.

“Billy loves you too! Billy loves you more than anything!!!”

Now the rest of your day will be spent in Billy’s arms, whispering sweet nothings to each other.

Stu Macher:

Match made in Heaven!

Stu loves to joke around.

He hardly ever takes anything seriously.

He annoys everyone.

And once he meets you? It's love at first sight.

The two of you are always in detention because you guys just cannot shut up in class. You are always disrupting something.

But you know what that means!

Detention dates <3

As long as the two of you together, Stu couldn't care less about where he was.

He and Billy appreciate your habit of not taking anything seriously because once the murders start occuring, you don't think too much about it, never asking questions or arousing suspicion around your boyfriend and his bestie.

When Billy had told Stu his plan to kill Sydney, and asked him if he was going to kill you as well, Stu’s heart sank.

He remembers when he was dating Tatum, just a few months ago, before he broke up with her for you, he had no qualms about killing her,

But you?

He loved you. You were his other half. The one person who understood him, who accepted him. He could never hurt you.

“Nah dude. I’m leaving her out of this.”

That night, he sneaks through your bedroom window to see you.

“Stu! (where the hell have you been loca) What’re you doing here?”

The sparkling smile you flash at him and the love swimming in your big, beautiful eyes makes him feel even guitler.

He feels bad that you’re dating a serial killer. He thinks you deserve better, but he would never let you go.

“Hey babe! I just missed you!”

You rushed over to him, dressed in kitty cat pajamas, and hugged him tight. He had only snuck through your bedroom window a couple of times before, and they had all been planned. Seeing him in your room as a surprise made your heart burst with happiness.

Stu led you to your bed and pulled you up onto his chest to cuddle you. It was late, and the both of you were tired. Stu just wanted to lay with you in silence, appreciating your presence.

You didn’t feel like releasing your usual high energy at the moment. Right now, you just wanted to fall asleep on your boyfriend’s chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

Michael Myers:

Girl

Michael does not appreciate your antics.

Annoying him is easy, but you would never know that.

He keeps his emotions very private, so when he is annoyed he’ll just stalk away from you.

He does not think you’re funny :(

He does enjoy your quiet moments. He likes to come home when your energy is low.

He’s usually covered in blood when this happens, so you clean him up without cracking a joke which he appreciates.

You’ll turn on a movie for the both of you, and Michael lets you cuddle up with him.

He does like you, he just doesn’t want you to know that...