#it’s why I’m beginning to use free draw two now

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi Shinazugawa standing up for you

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,1k

Synopsis: You are used to no one believing in you, to get picked on by other corps member because you're a girl. Until one of them crosses the line and starts a fights. Until a certain someone stands up for you when no one else does.

Warnings: not proofread bc I have a gym date with my boy (in order to have a biceps as beefy as (y/n)'s lmao), reader gets reduced to being a weak woman when she is anything but that, bad girl energy, Sanemi being a cutie

„I can’t believe they allowed a little girl to participate.”

“Look at her. There’s no way she survived the training of the former sound hashira, the serpent pillar and landed here.”

“Probably nothing but luck. Or she cheated.”

Don’t listen to them, just focus on staying hydrated and eating enough for your upcoming training. It has always been this way. You, a girl in a world of boys against everything. Why is it so hard to believe that you are capable of doing what they do when two female hashira show them how it’s done? You work your ass of day in and out, stayed consistent for your whole life. You’re always the first who appears in the morning and the last of them who falls into bed after practice. Nothing in life is given you for free, especially when it comes to strength. But apparently, they fail to realize this even after being a part of the demon slayer corps for quite some time.

“I bet she slept her way up.”

Your heart drops to the floor, eyes widen in sheer disbelief. You, sleeping your way up?

“Yeah, maybe she aims to be the fourth wife of him or something.”

“So that’s why he’s always going easy on her.”

“I can hear you. Loud and clearly”, you finally speak up.

They are talking about you as if you are nothing but air, as if you wouldn’t share the same air. Anger begins to rush through your veins uncontrollably. All this work only to be called the mistress of a former hashira?

“I couldn’t care less about the existence of a woman who fucked her way up”, one of them spits directly into your face.

“How are your trainees doing?”, the white-haired men questioned while staring into the sunset.

“Most of them are trash. That one though…”

Instantly, Sanemi’s gaze is glued onto Obanai who now sits next to him.

“Really? You’ve got one that has some balls?”

“A girl, to be exact. She seems decently skilled and Actually just transferred to your training”, Obanai clarifies.

“I never heard of a girl getting through Uzui’s basic training until now”, Sanemi replies while rubbing his chin.

A girl, huh? He can’t put a finger on the last time he ever trained one. But if Obanai talks so highly about you, there sure must be something going on.

“She’s got potential. Let’s just hope there’s enough time.”

“Instead of lying around like the loser you are, try training next time. I don’t need to fuck my way up, I’m all good by my own”, you bark back along with straightening your shoulders.

Who does this guy think he is? Talking behind your back like that while you don’t even know who the fuck he is.

“You’re nothing but a weak woman, I’m sure it was way too easy for you to wrap them hashira around your finger.”

You draw closer, his dreadful eyes piercing like arrows through yours. But you couldn’t care less. No, this is enough.

“Bold coming from a guy who obviously never touched a woman in his entire life. To be honest, I could give you one or two reasons for that. But it’s not my job to tell you what kind of loser you are. Now excuse me, the training session with the wind hashira begins soon and you definitely aren’t worth being late to that.”

“Why do I have to waste my time with those losers?”, Sanemi mumbles to himself while walking towards the campsite where all the trainees are located.

Or wait, didn’t Obanai talk about a skilled girl earlier? Maybe she’ll last longer than that bunch of losers. While getting closer, his eyes fall on a crowd of multiple guys cheering and staring of what looks like a sensation in the middle.

“What the hell is going on over there?”

You manage to escape his punch just before he hits your face with full force, so unexpected that your eyes widen. Did he just try to slap you? In your face?

“Are you out of your goddamn mind? We are here to get trained and not to fight each other like animals!”, you roar at him.

Another dash forward, another failed attempt to hit you with full force while everyone around you starts eyeing you up and down. This must be a cruel joke, a nightmare. You joined the demon slayer corps to fight against injustice and to support peace. But in this very moment, you find yourself surrounded by your comrades who definitely try to hurt you.

“You just have to play the smartest one, don’t you? I don’t give a damn about your little game. I will never respect a woman who fucked her way up”, he jeers back at you.

You force yourself not to cry, to not show them how much their fucking words sting. All your life, you were forced to fight against those who wanted to see you suffer, does who didn’t put trust in your abilities. Your neighbors, your friends, even your own family. Never more than a little girl with crazy dreams, never more than average with no one who believes in her.

“You have no i-“

An enormous storm of air swirling around you catches you completely off guard and almost sweeps you off your feet. You aren’t able to see anything anymore, let alone move. Fuck, what is this? Definitely not the power of that jerk from before. Your lungs feel like bursting under the immense pressure, chest so tight that you have to force air in and out. What on earth is this?

“That’s enough. Who do you even think you are?”

When the storm calms down as rapidly as it came, you find yourself landing onto the floor with your knees just in time while everyone around you bumps into the ground head-first.

“S-she attacked me! It was her fault!”

Your eyes widen in sheer horror when you begin to realize who was responsible for this. There he stands with his katana in his hand, his white cloak still flowing in the wind.

And his dreadful orbs are set on you.

You try to scream, try to defend yourself, but all of the sudden you forgot how to speak. This is the wind hashira, Sanemi Shinazugawa. After all those countless sessions with Tengen and Obanai, it was your goal to get here, to impress him.

But now you’re kneeling to his feet while countless men point their fingers at you, claiming you’re the one responsible for this mess.

“So, this was you?”, he questions.

There is no doubt in the fact that his ask is directed towards you. Not when he looks at you so serious with his hand clutched into a tight fist.

“I didn’t mean to cause trouble”, you finally press out.

Defending yourself is a waste of time. With all those men saying you’re the problem, your words mean nothing. All you can do is sit here and hope that you’re able to stay, hope that the wind hashira won’t send you back home like everyone predicted.

“You have to be fucking kidding me”, he mutters with low voice.

It’s over. This is it, your final time at the hashira training. Even giving your best wasn’t enough, apparently. Not when nobody believes in you except yourself. You should have kept quiet, should have ignored their stupid sayings. You furrow your eyebrows, wild eyes going hard.

No. You did everything right. No one is allowed to talk to you in such a manner, to say all those nasty things about you. It was the only right thing to defend your honor. There is nothing to regret.

“Are you really trying to make her responsible for this when I heard your dumb ass talking shit about her? You have some fucking nerve, lying into the face of a hashira.”

Time stands still, you don’t dare to make a move while the crowd around you goes silent. Did the wind hashira really just…Stand up for you?

“Now get lost, all of you brats. If you’d be as good at fighting as in talking shit, we would have beaten all demons already.”

He doesn’t have to tell them twice. In the matter of seconds, the usual crowded area is deadly silent with only you and the white-haired man remaining. Your heart almost beats out of your chest, eyes now fixated on his back. Why would he even stand up for a stranger, especially a girl? It’s probably best if you get away from here as well-

“No, not you. You definitely stay”, he instructs you after you take one single step forward.

You freeze right in your tracks. What now? Will he kick you out, send you back to your family? What if he didn’t mean those words he said earlier, what if he’s not convinced that you are in fact innocent?

“Listen, I’m sorry about t-“

“You really have some balls, dealing with a bunch of guys like that. My honest respect for that.”

 “What?”, you blurt out.

And there it is. The most breath-taking smile you’ve ever seen, a smile that makes your heart and stomach flutter, that leaves you standing there like an idiot. You never actually believed in love, let alone to fall for someone. But the wind hashira, standing in front of you with his katana casually placed over his shoulders and his hand on his hip while smiling at you…

You’re lost. Deeply, completely, utterly lost.

“It’s clear that you’re working hard and I admire that. They have no right to talk to you this disrespectfully. I’m the only one who’s allowed to do that”, he replies with his charismatic low voice.

“Thank you for standing up for me. For a second, I was pretty sure you’ll send me back home”, you admit while avoiding his gaze.

Maybe you’re still able to prove them all wrong, maybe you will make it after all. The hashira training is your chance to finally show your true self. You grab the handle of your katana tightly. And you will do everything you can to use that chance.

“Why would I send someone like you home when you’re one of the best corps members? These guys don’t know shit about you and it’s clear that they’re jealous. Don’t listen to those people and keep up the hard work.”

The man in front of you definitely isn’t the monster you’ve heard of. The rough and loud wind hashira who has zero control over his emotions, who rejected his own brother. The man who means nothing but violence, nothing but trouble. No, that man in front of you is smiling at you, teasing you in order to become better. And you’ll do everything to thank him for believing in you.

-one week later-

“You can’t keep her for yourself any longer. Apart from Kamado, she’s one of the greatest chances the demon slayer corps have. It’s Gyomei’s turn to train her”, Shinobu explains calmly, earning one of the deadliest looks ever from the wind hashira.

Truth is, he doesn’t want to let you go. He wants to see you every day, wants to train with you as often as he can, wants to talk with you into the night. What is left when you’re not around except the effect you had on him, the admiration he holds for you in his heart? Sanemi thought he’d never be able to find love again, that no other woman would ever catch his heart. But there you are with your determination made of stone and heart made of gold.

“She’s better off with me”, he mumbles with a pout, not daring to look into the insect pillar’s eyes.

It’s clear that he’s acting ridiculous. When it comes to gaining more strength and abilities, you’re definitely not better off by his side only. He can’t just gatekeep you for his own will.

“Don’t tell me you started liking her”, Obanai comments dryly.

“Sanemi, is it possible, that…that…”

“Don’t you dare saying that”, he warns the pink-haired girl opposite of him.

“ARE YOU IN LOVE WITH (Y/N)!?”

“SHUT UP, I NEVER SAID THAT!”

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO SAY IT, I CAN SEE IT IN YOUR EYES!”

“WHY? BECAUSE THEY’RE BLOODSHOT!?”

Him, in love with a woman? How ridiculous…

Right?

He huffs to himself. Yeah, there is no denying in the fact that he fell a little too hard.

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen

[fixyourwritinghabits]

How to Handle Critique

I’ve got to admit, I wish I was one of those beatific saints that could take critique with a grateful smile. Instead, I am constantly suppressing a horrible little gremlin at the back of my head hissing at anything from legit plot critiques to grammar corrections. I’m well aware I used that comma wrong, GOD.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m very good at suppressing that gremlin, but the little bastard is still there. He exists because even though your brain knows critique can help, it also knows you worked damn hard on the thing being critiqued, and goddamnit, isn’t that enough???

Anyway, here are some tips on getting that gremlin to shut the hell up.

It is okay to be upset. You worked really hard on this thing, and now someone’s gone and pointed out all the things that suck about it. You cannot control how you feel about one thing or another, but you can allow yourself to feel that way and let it pass through you. Let your critique partner you’re taking time to reflect on it, and go for a walk. Do something else. Let those feelings pass through you before you get back to the page.

Give yourself time. Don’t feel like you need to correct things right away (unless they are minimal grammar tweaks). Some pieces of feedback might take awhile to sink in, especially when you’ve got a whole novel to wrestle through. Set it aside, think about something else for a week or so, and get back to it when you’ve reset.

Get a second opinion and/or ducky friend. It can be very hard to tell the difference between good and bad feedback sometimes. Someone who means very well could give feedback that just doesn’t work for you, and someone who doesn’t give two shits could have spotted that fatal flaw right away. You can bring in a real third party or just make use of the old rubber duck technique, where you talk through the issue with a friend or a Naruto poster telling you to Believe it. Working it out out-loud is a really effective technique to figure out what needs fixing and what doesn’t.

Guide critique-givers toward the feedback you want. I, a person who prefers straightforward fantasy and sci-fi, cannot give the fine-tooth points on how a romance novel should work. However, I can give feedback on what works for me and what doesn’t story-wise. Giving your beta reader or critique partner a list of questions to look for will help avoid vague feedback based on how they don’t like the genre. There are many ways to do this, but consider using the following as a base to tailor your own questions:

Did you get a good sense of the setting? Did the worldbuilding make sense to you?

Was this story clear? Where there any parts that seemed confusing?

What characters did you like and why? What characters didn’t you like?

Did any parts of the story feel slow or repetitive?

Did the beginning draw you in? Did the middle keep you engaged? Did the ending feel satisfying?

If you were to write [insert plot point here], what would you do differently?

Again, all of the above questions are up for debate depending on your goal, but we are rarely taught how to give good feedback, and a guided feedback session would work better for you than a free-for-all.

Figure out what kind of advice doesn’t work for you. It is really hard to give good feedback sometimes, even with guided questions. It can also be really hard to figure out why some feedback doesn’t click with you, and that’s a matter of digging deep to figure out what you really want. You may lean toward characters who are horrible fuck-ups, but your partner prefers more steady characters who always strive to do the right thing. Your characters, therefore, may never click with this person, no matter how much they want to help you. And that’s okay! Figuring out where your critique partner is coming from can help you figure out what parts of their feedback isn’t working for you. Sometimes the only thing you can do is thank them and move on, but you might also want to guide them to focus more on the plot or the worldbuilding when looking at your work.

And last, don’t focus on grammar. It’s great if they point that out, but if you end up changing everything, trying to fix that first is a waste of your time. Grammar tweaks last, plot points first.

And, I dunno, give yourself a treat to get that horrible little mind gremlin something else to focus on. Sometimes patting those bad feelings on the head and sending them away can help way more than ignoring them.

[ervotica]

First, congrats on 2k! It is well deserved.

Second, for the kink wheel: sharing, with JJ Maybank and topper Thornton? If you’re not cool with those two, I’m also okay with Rafe and Topper 😉

i'm gunna do rafetopper for this particular one just because i have a very specific scenario in mind i feel suits them better, but feel free to send me another jj and topper one baby!!

warnings; poly!rafetopper x reader, dark!rafe + soft!dark!topper, drug use (r is explicitly stated to have done coke, rafe is sorta implied), heavy petting, making out, no actual smut but it is implied, 18+ only

a/n; oh this is sooo... i love them. pls pls i am BEGGING for requests of these two now they're sexy asf

Thick fingers curl around the circumference of your ribcage, peeling slick lips away from his own; you preen angrily at Rafe beneath you, jerking your chin indignantly when he reaches towards your face to anchor your gaze to his own.

"How aren't you tired, hm? Been at this for far too long, kid."

You bounce on your bum, rocking back on your heels where you're perched upon Rafe's lap on the couch; you're smacking away the hands that work to push you to the edge of his knees, effectively drawing you away from his kiss-bitten lips.

"You're done. You're cut off," he grouses, vexed stare meeting Topper's when he hooks two hands beneath your armpits and lifts you off of Rafe's lap. "Fuckin' take her. She's fuckin' relentless. Brat."

"Hey!" you whine, already squirming at the digits curling at the dip of your waist, drawing you into a different - but just as familiar - chest.

"Easy," Topper laughs, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips when you push yourself up onto tiptoes in voyage for a kiss. He grants your wish, taken aback at the way your lips slant hungrily over his own, but pulls away far too soon to quirk a brow at Rafe accusingly.

"Why is the kid vibrating out of her skin?" he asks, a crooked finger pointing at the older boy. "What'd you give her?"

Rafe rolls his eyes, disinterest oozing from his every pore when his thighs spread, lounging back on the couch. "Jus' gave her some blow. It's not a big deal, Top."

By this point you're clambering up Topper's front, elbows hooked tightly around his neck as you attempt to climb and secure your legs around him. Perspiration clings to your neck, clammy when Topper's palm comes to rest there and his other arm loops under your bum until you're lifted up and into his grasp.

"It is a big deal!" he grumbles. "She's gonna be wired all fuckin' night, now."

"Why'd you always do this?" you trill wetly, head dipping to mouth at the curve of Topper's jaw. "I didn't do anything!"

"'s not your fault, baby," Topper assents, planting himself on the other end of the couch; you shuffle forward in his lap, lips spilling into a pout as you chase his mouth once again.

He's soon lost in it, dazed from the feeling of your mouth suckling at him, manicured nails scratching at the sensitive skin at his nape. The only sound Rafe can focus on is the smacking of spit-slick lips, Topper's groan and your gentle mewl when his tongue ventures further, licking into your mouth.

"That's enough," Rafe gripes, one roughened hand slipping beneath your miniskirt to swat at the dimpled flesh of your bum. "Give her back now."

Topper pulls back, heaving, to glare daggers at the other boy. "No way. I just got her!"

"Seriously, just let me have her."

"No-"

Their voices begin to mesh and blend into one cacophony of noise, and you're frowning when Rafe's hands settle against the jut of your hipbones to snatch you away. He doesn't give you time to begin a string of petulant complaints, lips ensnaring your own in a fervent act of pure lust. You go pliant and soft, allowing your lips to part and make room for the wet muscle of his tongue that prods at the opening of your mouth, vying for entrance.

"Attagirl," he murmurs, a sweaty palm cupping the side of your face to draw you closer, other hand pinching at one pert nipple through the flimsy material of your shirt.

He pulls away to admire your half lidded eyes, clouded over with need as you absentmindedly rut yourself into Rafe's lap, tent in his pants growing by the second.

"Let's take her home. How does that sound?" Rafe asks.

For the first time that evening, the two boys are in agreement.

[nothingbutroublex]

I want to be shackled to the bed, my hands and feet tied. Fucked every day until my belly starts to swell with your child.

Treat me like an animal. Feed me, fuck me, wash me, and then tie me back to the bed to perform my purpose; To be pregnant with your babies.

I can feel the firmness in my abdomen, and can see that my lower belly is beginning to grow. You come in daily to take care of me, examine me, check my cervical mucus. I know you’ll be coming in soon, and try to position myself in a way that you can’t see my obvious bump that is beginning to form.

You come in with a smile, gently placing a kiss on my forehead. “How are you feeling today, princess?”

I shake my head slowly and ignore your efforts, and instantly you know somethings wrong. “Why are you laying like that, my love? Lie flat on your back, you know I need to check you…”

I refuse to move but being tied down to the bed, I can’t refrain much, and you push me into position, laying flat on my back. In my naked form, your eyes instantly land on my lower belly that is starting to protrude. Your face lights up. “Well well, look at you.. I thought this might take longer but…” you pause for a minute and slowly take two fingers and slip them deep inside of me, pushing up slightly. You use your free hand to firmly push down on my lower belly, which is unmistakably firm. I can feel the wetness between my legs start to grow with your touch, and begin to squirm a little beneath you. You continue to firmly rub my abdomen, your smile growing. “Congratulations,” you smirk. “We’re pregnant.”

I shake my head quickly. “I’m not pregnant, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Bring me a test. Let me take a test.” You shake your head a little. “You know what I told you when I brought you here, I’ve been planning this for years. No tests. No doctors. I’ve studied enough,” you pause for a minute and press a little harder on my swollen lower belly. “Look at yourself,” you draw your hand back for a minute, grab my chin, and force me to look down at my growing belly. “You’re pregnant. You are already fucking pregnant.”

You take a minute to slip your already erect cock out of your jeans. “Now it’s time to celebrate, don’t you think?” You slowly run your fingers up and down my soaking wet slit before slipping your cock inside. “Mmm, you must be a little excited about it, you’re so wet, baby…” you slowly thrust your cock in and out, not letting your hand move from my swelling belly. “You’re going to get so big…just wait, my love.”

[oristian]

I’m going to be putting into words arguments that I have made that are, more often than not, fragments of an overarching whole. Feel free to add on if I missed any.

A rejected bond trope cannot happen in a book that does not also share Lucien’s POV. Not only would this be the first rejected bond trope that SJM would have used in her entire catalogue of work, but it directly affects the males more than the females—not having Lucien’s immediate POV in the following chapter would diminish the climatic notion of rejecting the mating bond. The bond is just as much Lucien’s as it is Elain’s.

Following along, had Lucien been rejected in the previous book, the reader would now have to wait years for his POV in his own book where the reader would have to go back in time to see his immediate reaction, deal with the consequences of a rejection, his plethora of plot points, and also him somehow falling in love with a human woman. Not only is he going to miraculously bounce back from such a soul crushing rejection—in all meanings of the term—but he is going to manage to move on enough to fall in love with someone else.

Lucien and Elain have to resolve the mating bond before she can either reject it, and/or get with Azriel. That means, from a literature standpoint, that the reader needs to actively see Elain and Lucien exploring the bond and getting to know one another, finding out that they just do not work, and continuing on from there. If Elain just up and rejects the bond and decides to be with Azriel, that is both anticlimactic and a disservice to Azriel. Choosing love means exploring the other option, rejecting it/fate, and still choosing to be with someone else. If the bond is never explored, did she really choose Azriel for love?

Elain and Lucien are within the same plot arc—Azriel has his own established plot arc, away from Elain. If SJM truly intended for the next book to be told from Elain and Azriel’s POVs, she would have placed them within the same overarching plot arc. Instead, she separated them for two straight books and made certain that it was Lucien also tied to Koschei, and it was Azriel tied to Dusk, Illyrians, Gwydion and Truth Teller, and Valkyries.

If Elain and Azriel were meant to be endgame, SJM would have needed to already resolve/begin resolving the mating bond between Elain and Lucien, and she would not have placed Gwyn within the vicinity of Azriel—especially not in his bonus chapter—in the way in which she did. SJM would have titled the ACOSF bonus chapter and marketed it as the Elriel chapter, similarly to Nessian. However, she did not, she marketed it as Azriel’s bonus chapter and she included two women.

If Elain and Azriel were endgame, and are so blatantly obvious, what would the need for a red herring be for them? Elain’s mating bond is tension enough, why bother adding another female character into the mix? Why move so much of Elain and Azriel off page? Why have all of their biggest scenes be told from either someone else’s POV, or in a bonus chapter that many readers still have not found out about?

The ‘Elain in Black’ entire paragraph was meant to draw the reader in. Cassian, who should have been focused on Nesta, harped on the Night Court black draining the life from Elain. “She had to dress down for Nesta.” That is a fanon interpretation and not backed by canon; Elain is the most beautiful Archeron sister and would have outshined Nesta in that regard no matter what. Pair that with Nesta in the next chapter also confirming that the color of the dress was what was ill-suited, not the actual dress. Following by saying that Elain radiated good health in an amethyst dress, written in a similar way that the Day Court entourage was described in ACOWAR. Pair this with other characters expressing that Elain does not fit in with the Night Court, and the foreshadowing is there.

Anything that Vassa can offer to the narrative, the reader can learn from both Lucien and Elain—Vassa is not needed for a POV, as she has nothing she can offer that would create a compelling story. She would, ultimately, just be a love interest. Anything about Koschei, we can learn from Elain’s visions and any stories that Vassa tells Lucien. Anything about Vassa in general, we can learn from Lucien. The reader already knows what happened to Vassa and the readers know about her curse and that Koschei still expects her return. She is going to be a side character with her own love interest, similarly to Amren and Varian.

I am certain that there are more, so feel free to comment and/or reblog with some! Elain and Azriel were never meant to be taken as seriously as they have and do not make much sense from a narrative perspective. They do not share any overarching plot arcs, they are wildly incompatible with one another, and there is so much foreshadowing and symbolism between Elucien and Gwynriel that wouldn’t need to be there if Elriel truly was endgame.

Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk.

[queenie-official]

‘Friendship’ Modern!Ani

Main Masterlist

word count: 1,980

pairing: Modern!Anakin Skywalker x reader

summary: ani and reader search through the attic on a rainy day

a/n: this is just a fun little oneshot i wrote to show off more of reader and modern!Ani’s dynamic 🙈

Boxes, lots of boxes. why were there so many boxes? how much of this stuff did your mother even need? you’d opened about 20 different ones and not one of them had what you were looking for.

you and Anakin have been digging around the attic for well over an hour now, the only thing you’ve successfully found was more dust.

honestly when you had insisted Anakin come over to spare you from a bored rainy day, and then proceeded to force him into helping you recover an old shoe box you knew for a fact your mother placed somewhere in this attic- you figured your efforts would have been successful by now.

a sharp gasp from Anakin draws your attention from the box you’re currently rummaging through.

“What did you find it?!” you ask whilst turning to face him, watching as he sticks his arm further into the box he was working through to grab something.

“I Knew it!” he declares, making you confused as you stand up in a failed attempt to get a better look at what he found.

he turns to you standing up now as well and holding up a small toy Truck. “you did steal him from me!” he says with furrowed brows.

you squint at the truck in his hand and notice the face on the front of the truck, buck teeth sticking out. “i knew i wasn’t crazy” he adds, turning the small toy so the face was looking at him.

“hey that was mine!” you argue walking over to him to take back the Toy, just as you’re about to grab it he moves his hand out of your reach.

“you didn’t own any Cars toys” he counters, tightening his grip on the little truck. which once used to be the size of his whole hand and now fit perfectly in his palm.

“you don’t even like Mator!” you defend, going on your tiptoes in order to reach his hand but he just raises his arm even higher.

“i never said that, and he’s mine. I've been looking for him for years!” he holds you back with his free arm then takes a few steps back.

“Well he was my favorite” you pout, taking a step back yourself so that he couldn’t hold you back anymore. then quickly ducking under his arm to get to the other side of him, not willing to give up on this.

“He’s my toy!” he says frustratedly dodging each of your attempts to grab it back.

“you’re Eighteen Anakin” you glare at him and he glares right back.

“so are you!” right as you where about to lunge towards him and snatch the toy back you both here footsteps coming up the ladder leading into the attic.

“what on earth are you two-“ your moms voice rings out as her head pops up from the hole in the floor, cutting her own sentence short as she sees you and Anakin.

Anakin was frozen in place with his hand in the air holding up the toy and you were awkwardly grabbing at his arm trying to manually pull it down.

“you know, i really thought you two would have outgrown this” she says with a unamused face, crossing her arms and looking at you both with a disapproving shake of her head.

“i’m just taking back what’s mine” Anakin defends himself, quickly taking the opportunity to slip the toy in the pocket of his jeans when he sees you lower your arms embarrassed to have been caught fighting over a toy truck like two children.

“what are you both even doing up here?” your mom asks curiously, not moving up the latter further instead turning on the step so she could get a better view of you both.

“looking for something- speaking of, do you remember me having a shoebox i painted pink? it had gold glitter all over the lid and a bunch of stickers on the sides.” you walk towards your mom as you ask, describing the little box you remembered so clearly in your mind.

“y/n, we’ve had all the stuff up here packed away for years…you really think i’m going to remember a shoebox?” you groan at her answer. beginning to think she may have just thrown it out.

“forget it we’ll just keep looking” you say turning to look through another box, tuning out the conversation now happening between Anakin and your mother as you focus.

“what’s so special about this box anyway?” Anakin asks, standing beside you with his arms crossed.

“i told you already there’s stuff i put in it that i want.” he rolls his eyes at your once again Vague answer to his questions.

“honestly how do you even know what you’re looking for is in the box?” he retorts, nudging you with his shoulder before walking to open another box as well.

“because i know it’s in there” you grumble and then hear him let out a sigh, completely over this whole mini adventure.

at first digging through old stuff in the attic did sound at least a little bit fun. all the cool little nick-nacks you guys could find.

then it got way less fun when he found out there was something specific you guys would be searching for, making it seem more like a chore.

the sour mood solidified with each screech you let out when you came across a spider or anything that vaguely resembled one. he probably killed more spiders for you in the last hour then he had the whole year.

“okay well maybe if you were less cryptic with what it is we’re actually looking for-“ you cut him off with a screech, causing him to whip his head towards you only relaxing when he saw the smile on your face which meant he didn’t have to deal with another spider.

“I found it!” you say excitedly as you pull the shoebox out, bouncing on your feet happily as you look up at him.

“oh thank god we can get out of this leaky, dusty attic” he says dramatically, mostly pulling your leg.

although he did get a bunch of water poured on his head earlier when the rain picked up and he happened to be under a hole in the roof neither of you noticed.

so it definitely wouldn’t be much of a stretch that he may actually really want to leave.

“alright now can i know what’s in the stupid box” Anakin asks as you both walk into your room.

you take a seat at your desk and then place the box down. “nope” you turn towards him in the chair and shoo him, he lets out a dramatic gasp.

putting up a hand to his chest to really sell the offended act. “i put in all that work and i don’t even get to see what it was for? that’s cruel”

you roll your eyes and start to push him away, he eventually gives in and walks over to your bed. huffing as he falls back onto it.

“i’ll show you in a minute just give me a sec” you mumble as you lift the lid off. and look in with a pleased smile.

there were unused stickers, some glitter that must of rubbed off from the lid, quite a few pieces of old candy. a Polaroid picture of you and Ani from when you were eight and both lost the same tooth, and lastly the very thing you were searching for.

Two beaded friendship bracelets.

one was blue and had white beads with black letters on it that spelt out Anakin. the other was orange, the same white beads with black letters on it only this time they spelt out your name.

“i wonder if the elastic is any good” you think out loud as you grab the orange bracelet, sliding it over your hand and admiring it as it sits on your wrist. a bright smile on your face as you stare at it.

you’d made them both, wanting to have matching bracelets with Anakin. only problem was you’d never ended up giving Anakin his, or wearing your own for that matter.

if you had given him it you knew for a fact he’d have worn it until it broke- most likely would have even asked you to make him another one to replace it.

well you knew that now, little you on the other hand had her doubts.

in your defense you had seen Padme hand out bracelets she made for everyone in the class the very same day you’d planned on giving Anakin the one you made and Anakin very clearly detested the idea of wearing one to her.

how were you supposed to know he would have worn the bracelet you made without a second thought if he’d known you’d made him one.

“okay close your eyes” you say excitedly, taking the bracelet you made for him all those years ago into your hand. standing up from the chair slowly, making sure the bracelet couldn’t be seen in your closed hand.

“what why?” you turn to face him with your brows furrowed, ready to argue with him on this but his eyes where already closed. you can’t help but smile at that.

“why ask if you’re gonna do it anyway?” you question him as you walk over, grabbing his arm that laid across his stomach. his eyes twitch slightly, wanting to open them and see what you were doing but he resists.

“because i know it annoys you” he teases, flashing you a shit eating grin. you roll your eyes, maneuvering his hand so you can slide the bracelet onto his wrist.

as soon as it’s on his eyes flutter open before you can even tell him to look.

you watch as his eyes soften slightly, then he sits up and turns his arm to get a better look. “when did you make this?” he says airily, brows furrowed in confusion. gently he traces over the letters of his name with his pointer finger, silently admiring it as if it was a piece of artwork.

“when we were like eight- it’s not important but i like randomly remembered i made them when i was scrolling on my phone earlier.” he snorts a laugh at your answer “you don’t have to wear it” you add before he can make a witty response.

“are you kidding me, i’m never taking this off” he says, pulling his hand away from you as if you were going to try and take it off of his wrist. you can’t help but laugh at his antics.

“i’ll take that as you like it then?” you ask shyly, why you suddenly felt so awkward you weren’t sure- you’d never felt this way with Anakin.

“i love it, how come you never gave it to me when you originally made it?” you just shrug not wanting to give him the actual reason in fear it will make you feel even more awkward then you already do. thankfully for once in your lives Anakin doesn’t push.

simply smiling at you before looking back down at his wrist. you could tell he was being serious when he said he was never going to take it off…

“hey wait a minute- do you still have the Mator toy we found?” your brows furrow when you remember not having got it back from him.

his head snaps up and he gives you a smile right before standing up and dashing out of your room.

“Anakin give it back!” you shout before running after him.

“it’s mine!” he shouts back, throwing on his shoes in order to run out into the rain before you could catch him and then making a mad dash to his house as you struggle in the doorway of your house to put on your own pair of shoes.

some things would always be the same.

another one😎 as you can tell i love the childhood friends to lovers trope 💅✨ anyways i personally headcannon that Modern Anakin had a total obsession with the Cars movies when he was little which really started his love for cars in general. his future as a Car guy was inevitable at that point 🌝 hope you all enjoyed 💋💋

[skyward-floored]

Swapped

Part one of the Incredibles au power swap fic lets gooooo

I don’t know how many parts this is going to be total, maybe four..? I tried to keep it short, but that... didn’t work, heh. This is set after movie stuff at some point, don’t know exactly when, not too long... but supers are legal at least.

But anyway, enjoy part one!

Part two

————————————————————

Wind woke up slowly, his ears ringing in his skull.

A dull pulse of pain rippled through his middle, and he winced, putting a hand on his chest and rubbing it as he tried to think through what had happened. He remembered a voice talking, and something about intruders being free test subjects...

Oh. Right.

And a big explosion that had sent them all flying.

Ow...

Wind rubbed his eyes, wincing. He supposed a weird explosion shouldn’t be that surprising, since they were trying to break into a crazy-secure science lab. They’d gotten some information on all sorts of illegal experiments going on here, with supers allegedly involved, and they’d all suited up and stormed the place.

Nobody had realized they were expected.

Wind sighed, and sat up with another wince, grateful his supersuit was so sturdy. If he’d been in his civilian clothes, he’d probably be a smear on the wall right now. Or at least dealing with some broken ribs instead of just the weird soreness he had.

He shook his head, trying to disperse the ringing in his ears, and looked around, wondering why it was so quiet. Something about the air seemed weird, like something was missing from it.

A frown settled on Wind’s face and he reached for some wind, trying to listen and see if there was anything moving nearby. Then he froze.

He couldn’t do it.

Wind thrust his hand out, twirling it in the motion he always used when he directed the winds, but nothing happened, no matter how he moved his hands, no matter how hard he tried.

Something was wrong with his powers.

Wind breathed in shakily, and looked down at his hands, trying not to get swamped with panic. He was fine, he was fine except for the aches and lack of powers, he was fine. He probably just... needed to recover a little more from being unconscious. Yeah.

That had to be it.

Wind swallowed and looked around, suddenly zeroing in on Legend lying nearby. He wasn’t moving, and Wind shakily got to his feet, stumbling over and crouching at his side.

“Legend?” Wind asked, and gave his brother a light shake.

Legend didn’t move, not one inch, and the sight of his brother so still made something lurch in Wind’s stomach.

He paused in trying to wake him, and turned his attention to the rest of the room. He’d been separated from the others in the explosion, and the only other person besides Legend and himself in the hallway was Warriors. And Warriors looked like he was beginning to stir, a groan coming from his direction.

Wind stood up again, the absence of his wind all the more noticeable when he tried to draw on it for assistance. He swallowed and kept going, and knelt by Warriors’ side as his eyes flickered open.

“Warriors?” he asked in a shaky voice, and his uncle groaned, pressing his hands to his ears.

“Not so loud...” he bit out in a whisper, face screwed up in a wince. “...why is it so loud?”

“...I’m the only one making any noise,” Wind said in confusion, and when Warriors winced, he switched to a whisper as well. “...Sorry. It’s not loud at all Warriors, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t... know?” Warriors bit out, trying to sit up. “Ugh... I feel like I got hit by a truck...”

“Did you hit your head?” Wind asked anxiously, and Warriors slowly shook it, still wincing.

“No... everything is just... loud.”

Wind waited a moment for him to wake up a little more, and Warriors breathed out, slowly sitting up. Pain still showed in the way his face was creased though, and Wind felt the bubble of anxiety in his chest get a little bigger.

“That was a weird thing they hit us with... are you sure you’re okay?” Wind said as he helped Warriors sit up, glancing worriedly at the rubble separating them from the others.

“Yeah...” Warriors mumbled. “You okay, Wind?”

Wind swallowed.

“I... I don’t know,” he said honestly, wishing his voice wouldn’t shake. “I only woke up a bit ago. I found Legend too, he’s still unconscious, but Wars there’s— there’s something wrong with my powers.”

“What?”

Wind bit his lip. “I can’t get them to work. Ever since I woke up I haven’t been able to feel any wind or anything, there’s something wrong.”

Warriors’ face creased in concern, but then he paused, and held out his hand with his palm outstretched.

Nothing.

He tried again, a little more frantically, but still nothing happened, and he exhaled, looking down at his hands.

“Looks like mine are on the fritz too,” he said worriedly, then gave Wind’s shoulder a squeeze. “We’ll... we’ll figure this out. There’s probably something blocking them, I’ve seen this before. We just need to find the device.”

“You’re sure?” Wind said shakily, and Warriors nodded, giving his hair a quick ruffle.

“Yeah. It’ll be fine, kiddo.”

Wind gave him a small smile, then decided to check on Legend again since he still hadn’t moved. His brother’s face was still pale and blank, and while he didn’t look injured, Wind knew stuff could be hurt on the inside where they couldn’t see it.

Warriors joined him a few moments later, still wincing, and got to a knee beside Legend. He began looking him over, brushing dusty bangs from his face, and Wind watched in silence from beside him.

“Warriors, what do we do now?” Wind asked quietly, and his uncle hesitated, flinching when a sound rang out in the distance.

“I... don’t know just yet. Let’s recuperate for a bit, see if we can wake Legend up. Maybe try and contact the others. Then... I guess keep going. Somebody has to stop this scientist guy.

“And that somebody is us.”

“Right-o,” Warriors smiled. Then he stiffened, ears pricking as he looked down the hallway. “Someone’s coming.”

“I don’t hear anything,” Wind said in confusion, and Warriors shook his head, gathering Legend up into his arms.

“I can, there’s someone coming, trust me. We need to—”

Footsteps clattered towards them, and Warriors flinched, quickly tugging Wind and Legend behind a piece of rubble. A handful of guards came around the corner, and Wind crouched down further, watching them nervously.

Normally four guards would be nothing, but without powers and Warriors in a questionable state... Wind wasn’t sure they could handle them.

“Wars?” he whispered, and Warriors put a finger to his lips.

The guards drew nearer, spreading out and looking around the rubble. One came closer and closer to where Warriors and Wind were, and suddenly looked behind the rubble, spotting them.

“Hey!”

He grabbed for his gun, and Warriors shoved Wind behind him, launching himself at the guard with a snarl. The man shouted as he fell backwards, and despite the pain on Warriors’ face, he managed to wrestle the gun away from him.

The other guards heard him though, and Wind’s stomach lurched as they surrounded Warriors, unsure if he should go help or stay where he was and defend Legend. Warriors was hurting, but Legend wasn’t even awake, what was he supposed to do?

Two guards split off and went for Wind, and he yelped in panic, backing up so he could better protect Legend. The guards both reached in the nook Wind and Legend were tucked in, trying to grab them, but Wind avoided their hands and kicked at their arms.

Warriors was still struggling with the other two guards, but when he heard Wind’s yelp, his head shot up, eyes going wide when he saw one of them pull out a gun.

“Get away from them!” he shouted, eyes glowing, and was suddenly doused in shadows.

A familiar noise hummed through the air, and Wind and the guards stared in shock as the shadows dispersed, leaving a grayish-blue and white wolf on the ground where Warriors had been.

The wolf looked utterly shellshocked, and Wind felt much the same as he stared at it.

What.

Wind suddenly realized the guards were all distracted by the abrupt appearance of a wolf, and he shoved his shock to the back of his mind. He pushed the two that were trying to grab him, knocking them both over, then darted out and grabbed a piece of metal that had fallen on the ground.

He slammed it into one of the guard’s heads, sending him to the floor, but by then the others had snapped out of their daze.

But Warriors had too, and it didn’t take long for him and Wind to take out the other three guards. All four lay unconscious in short order, and Wind panted heavily as he wiped his face.

Then he stared back at the wolf, who was staring at his paws with his ears back.

“Um... what?” Wind spluttered, disbelief coming back. “Warriors that— how?”

The Warriors-wolf whined, his eyes wide, and he paced around in an anxious circle, nose twitching and ears flicking.

“How did you do that?!” Wind repeated, and Warriors flinched at his raised voice, ears folding back again. “...sorry. But why do you have Twilight’s powers?!”

Warriors repeated his whine, tail between his legs, and suddenly the shadows whirled around him again, blocking him from view. When they dispersed, Warriors was back to normal, sitting on the ground and looking somewhat nauseous.

“...Warriors?” Wind asked, and Warriors slowly sank down and laid on his back, then put a hand over his eyes.

“Gimme a sec,” he croaked.

Wind went quiet, and for a minute the only sound in the room was Warriors’ somewhat-shaky breathing.

While his uncle got a hold of himself, Wind gently tugged Legend out from the hiding spot, setting his head in his lap as he sat down. He ran a hand over Legend’s hair while he watched Warriors, and finally his uncle exhaled, and took the hand off his eyes.

“I think I know what the problem with our powers is,” he murmured. “Somehow... they switched.”

“But how?” Wind said as he stared at his uncle, and Warriors sighed, slowly sitting up and setting his hands over his ears again.

“I don’t know. But... I think it has to do with that weird energy pulse. I’d guess somehow it switched our powers.”

Wind stared at him in shock, and Warriors grimaced as something made a sound in the distance.

“How... is that even possible?”

“I have no earthly clue.”

Wind petted Legend on the head again, trying to wrap his brain around the idea of powers somehow swapping. Their powers were a literal part of them, how could anything switch them around?

“So... so you somehow have Twilight’s powers,” Wind said, and Warriors nodded. “Does that mean Twilight has yours?”

“I don’t know. But based on the whole wolf thing and the fact that I can hear so much as a pin drop, I definitely switched with Twilight,” Warriors said, then winced again. “Eugh. How does he deal with being able to smell everything? Or hear people breathing?”

Wind shrugged. “So... what was it like being a wolf?” he asked curiously.

“...Weird. We should get moving before the guards wake up,” Warriors said, dodging the question, and Wind sighed and nodded. Obviously Warriors didn’t want to talk about it.

...he’d get it out of him eventually though.

Wind looked down at his hands as Warriors moved to pick up Legend, flexing his fingers, and wondered suddenly if the same thing had happened to him.

Had he just gotten his powers blocked, or had he switched with somebody too? Was that why he couldn’t feel his winds?

Wind focused on himself for a second, trying to remember back to when he was smaller, and accessing his powers was more difficult. Normally there was a sense of the winds around him that he drew on, a thrum in his heart that moved in time with them, and he could usually draw on it with little to no effort.

That feeling wasn’t there anymore, but as Wind focused, he realized there was a different thrum inside of him now, one that felt blindingly strong.

Wind cautiously drew on it, but it was like turning on a firehose, and a flood of whatever power he had now came rushing at him, startling a yelp from his throat.

Warriors called his name, but Wind barely heard him, focused on the power rushing through his middle, spreading to his limbs and stretching out along his face. It was nearly overwhelming, but Wind held on against it, gritting his teeth as power buzzed all over throughout his skin.

The rush ebbed finally, enough that Wind could open his eyes, and the first thing he noticed was that the floor seemed a lot further away then it had before.

Also Warriors staring at him in shock.

“What?” Wind asked, then startled at the way his voice echoed.

“You... you also swapped,” Warriors said in a somewhat strangled voice.

Wind blinked, then looked at his hands, feeling the current of power run through him, feeling so powerful that he could probably punch his way through the walls if he had to.

Which meant...

“I got Dad’s, didn’t I?” Wind said.

Warriors sat back down.

“...Yep.”

[certainlynotasimp]

Hii, i think a good idea for a one shot could be that there's a canon event where the spiderperson!reader have to do the iconic Spiderman kiss in their universe, like Spiderman 3 (toby's one) with Gwen stacy or whoever you want, but they are in a relationship with Miguel LMAOOO btw im sorry if there's something wrong with the grammar, english is not my first language <3

Rewrite the Stars

((Miguel O’Hara x Female! Reader))

A/N: A non Sunny x Miggy post? How odd for me lol. I’m so sorry this is super late and to everyone whose requested, I’m working slowly but surely on y’all’s stuff. If you wanna read some stuff in the meantime, here’s the Masterlist and feel free to join my discord.

A/N: I tried doing the you/yours pronoun thing because this isn’t a Sunny fanfic but I really don’t like it lol.

Warnings: Jealous Miguel?, Unrequited/Forbidden? Love, Female Reader/Female Pronouns, Barely use of Y/N, and no Spanish this time ((I’m trying to find a new translator and hopefully an editor))

The universe.

One of life’s greatest mysteries. A mass of stars and galaxies that housed so many lives within its many pockets. The lives of so many people whose lives were already written within its cloudy arms and their ends cemented in its pools of nothingness.

A beautiful cycle of cruelty and destiny.

A cycle that was the reason for your utter misery as you sat at a bar listening to your dimension’s Ben Riley blabber on about some football game you cared nothing about.

His oblivious brown eyes sparkled at the fascination with the game as his dimpled smile accentuates his sharp jawline. The warm lights from above caused a healthy glow to bounce off of his shaggy blonde hair, almost making him look like an angel. You can see why Spiderverse assigned him as your love interest.

In your earth’s canon, you were a typical woman who had gotten bit by a radioactive spider during a high school field trip and you spent your entire high school experience thrashing goons instead of chasing boys. Even helped take down some aliens with the Fantastic Four and the Avengers at times before college finals. Spiderwoman was New York’s beloved hero and the cockiness of being its one and only SpiderWoman quickly got into her head.

That was until six months ago.

Six months ago, you were fighting the Vulture over the Empire State Building when another, more mutated version of the same villain appeared. They both decided in your state of delirium over the doubles that you would be a good plaything.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, I didn’t ask for a combo with my chicken!” A feminine spider’s voice screeches as she avoids the hooked talons of the erratic variant.

The two villains took turns flying menacingly around the scope of buildings to throw the hero off of their location while the other swooped in and tries to rip her throat out.

As she attempts to escape the feathered monster, its companion would come and slice away the web of salvation, continuing the vicious cycle.

Blood blinded her vision as the loud ringing at the base of her skull grew louder. The causes of that annoying alarm grasp their razor claws into her shoulders before sweeping her exhausted body into the air with a victorious snarl.

‘I guess this is the end…’

As the heavens draw closer to her doom, her life hanging up by the slicing of her muscles and bones, a glimmer of fate happens. The warmth of a flash barely registers as the first ache disappears with a startled squeak and a burly force. The sudden change in feeling takes her breath away as she suddenly begins to plummet below.

Her eyes quickly adjusting to the suffocating drop, she can see that one of the Vultures was now fighting an even more prominent blue figure, his howls of pain and unintelligible cursing heard from the stumbling brawl.

As the flash from her familiar foe reaches around the building, she shoots her web at him and used him as a glider.

“Time to ground you, birdie!” She yells as she throws the villain through a window. Catching her grip on the building, she looks at her new foe in the sky and the wind is knocked out of her from the sight.

The man who saved her was in a futuristic spider suit with his mask now off. His dark hair flutters in the wind as the setting sun makes his tanned skin glow. His red eyes glare at the wiggling mutant as his full lips pull back into a snarl. His jaws open revealing a set of large fans before he plunged them into the mutant.

Who the hell is that?

~~~~~~~~~

“(Y/N)?…” Ben frowns as he realizes his date was lost in her thoughts.

You snapped out of your head and fake an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I was remembering something….”

That wasn’t a complete lie. You remembered the day you met Miguel O’Hara. The Spiderman of the year 2099 and the leader of the inter-dimensional Spider Society. The anomaly that had come into your world had brought the two together and you were recruited due to your stubbornness, much to Miguel’s annoyance.

~~~~~~~~~

“No.” His annoyance dripped from these words as he glares down at you. You were caught in wonder at the idea of there being other Spidermen and that they worked together to stop the collapse of the entire universe. The thought seemed too good to be true that you just had to ask if you could join until those red eyes shot your dream through the heart.

“What do you mean ‘No’?” You ask in disbelief. Your own eyes glared deep into his soul as your hands balled into fists. “I’m a Spiderman just like you! How could you-!”

“You are not like me.” He coldly snaps at you, your ranting briefly interrupted as the man towers over you. His clawed hand grasps your face as his glare sets a spark of fury down in your chest.

“You will never be like me and you will never-!” “Is that our new recruit?” A smooth British accent appears behind Miguel as a spiked-headed Spiderman peeks around his bulking figure.

“No, she’s-” The tall punk pulls you away from Miguel with a mischievous laugh as he introduces himself. “Ello, love, my name is Hobie. Hobie Brown.” He leans down with a sly smirk as his mischievous attitude infests your being like a plague. “Just play along, mate. Let’s riffle this wanker’s undies.” He whispers as you giggle.

“Nice to meet you, Hobie.” I allow a sly smirk to slide onto my face as I look back at the now very annoyed Miguel. “My name is (Y/N) and I’m happy to join.”

~~~~~~~~

The distant sound of screams filters through the bar as the distinct sound of a car being tossed into another building.

Looking at my gizmo disguised as a watch, you realized that the canon event was starting.

~~~~~~~~

“You did well today,” Miguel admits under his breath. Looking at him in shock, you realize that he wasn’t scowling like he normally was. He had a softer expression, his eyes shining with approval as his lips quirked into a mimic of a smile.

The mission had almost gone rouge with the escape of a prowler and him hiding low in a crowded dimension. Despite the obvious danger, Miguel opted to go alone like usual, but his lack of spider sense caused him to get caught up in a trap. Talons and Fangs don’t really help if you can’t exactly move around to use them, so he ended up taking serious blows.

Luckily, you managed to get there and tumble with the villain long enough for the others to rescue Miguel, and the team managed to recapture the prowler. Of course all of them looked pretty bad injuries wise, but the look Miguel had as you sat there bandaging up his wounds made it worth it for some odd reason.

“Thanks Boss.”

~~~~~~~~

June 27th : SpiderWoman of Earth 648 will rescue love interest, Ben Riley, from an attack against The Rhino….

The roaring of the mechanical beast fills the panicked screams of the patrons as the sinking feeling falls in your chest. Ben is quick to play the hero like any guy would as he grabs your arm and drags you out towards the emergency exit. Just like the timeline said it would.

You use the chaos to your advantage as you pretend to trip and get lost in the crowd of people struggling to escape from the emergency exit.

~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean by that?!” I snapped at an irritated Miguel.

Lyla was surprisingly quiet as she watched the duo argue. Miguel whips around at you as his ruby eyes scorched into yours. His talons point at you accusingly as he reiterates your next canon event.

“On June 27th, you are going to be out on a date with Ben Riley. The Rhino is gonna attack that street and you’re gonna save everyone, and afterwards you’re gonna have to kiss him.” His frustration evident as his permanent frown creases.

You stare into his eyes in defiance as you coldly utter, “No. I’m not gonna kiss Ben Riley.”

“And why not? He’s your love interest!” Miguel exclaims, obviously more furious than before. “You’re the Peter to his MJ. You gotta kiss him because you’re destined to be.”

“I don’t love him! I don’t even like his whiny ass!” You snap as you felt your frustrated tears roll down your face.

It’s true. Before you joined this team, you would have been thrilled that you were destined to be with Campus Hunk Ben Riley. He was everything you could ever want from a guy. He was good looking, sensitive, athletic, and social able. The all around good guy you would be proud to bring home to your folks.

But…

Sharp grasp on your shoulder alerts your attention back to Miguel as he slams you back against the desk. His eyes burning embers as he glares down at you.

~~~~~~~~~~

Changing into your spidersuit, you began to fight The Rhino with a distracted daze in your movements.

The memory from a week prior burning in your mind as you sloppily avoided cars and harsh blows. After a few well timed flips and back kicks, the brute decides to throw a large street cleaning truck towards the alleyway. Just like Lyla predicted when she handed you the file.

The Rhino is gonna throw a street cleaner towards the alleyway where Ben is. SpiderWoman will stop the truck before impact and sling it back towards The Rhino ending the fight.

~~~~~~~

“And why is it that you are being so difficult?!” He snaps as his fangs glimmer from his scowl. A cute trait you used to love about him until it was pointed at you. “You are no better than a spoiled child with how you are acting so you better have a good fucking reason!”

You growl back at him with a tear rolling down your enraged face.

He had no right to argue with you about your life, not when he’s the one making it difficult.

~~~~~~~

Shooting a web out towards the buildings, you catapulted yourself into the air and landed in front of the truck. Quickly reusing the web with some enforcements, the truck was bounced back to the The Rhino. The enormous foe gets trampled by the machinery as the crowd cheers for SpiderWoman’s dreaded victory.

“Way to go SpiderWoman!!” A familiar voice joins the crowd as I see Ben on the ground, obviously he either tripped or fell back to avoid the truck. You offer a hand towards him as you thank him softly.

“Thank you.” I faked the smile in my voice as the crowd disappears, leaving the two of you in the alley way.

~~~~~

Finally snapping at him, you yell out in fury,

“BECAUSE HE’S NOT YOU!”

With a frustrated slap to Miguel’s face, you run past him and escaped back to your dimension, heartbroken over how the events to come and what just happened that despite everything you couldn’t change fate.

No matter how many times you fell asleep during long nights talking on his observation deck. No matter how many playful sparring matches turn into flirty comments. Not even the little gestures of bringing the grumpy spider his coffee and him bringing you some sweets during meetings could change that the star already written your path.

You fell in love with a man who isn’t meant to be yours.

~~~~~

It’s been a week since that fight and you still haven’t seen or heard from him. It hurt to know that your confession was brushed aside while you had to continue the continuity. You half at least expected him to be here to make sure you at least followed through with the canon event.

“Would you like a swing home?” I offer just like I’m supposed to. The moment that was meant to be a nervous beginning to a love story felt like the beginning of heartache as I watched a blush form on his face.

“Sure,” he answered before a flash of realization that his date was suddenly not with him. Another trait you wouldn’t have noticed if you were as in love with him as you were suppose to be.

“Hey my date isn’t here…I think she got hurt or lost during the panic.” His concern caused a pang of guilt to stab her in the chest.

Recovering quickly, you shoot out some webbing and playfully hang upside down infront of him. “Well I guess that swinging date will have to be postponed.”

“Wait it was gonna be a-!”

Quickly, you pulled down the mask enough to deliver a quick peck to his rambling mouth. You force out a giggle as he stood looking at you flabbergasted.

“See ya, Riley.” You swing off as the man bumbled to even ask how you knew his name.

Lyla just said it was a kiss, not a what kind of kiss.

With a heavy heart, you swing back home as you tried to remember that this was all for the sake of the canon. That Miguel didn’t care for you the way you did for him. You tried your hardest to tell your aching heart that those past few months were you just making too much out of nothing.

You mournfully entered your apartment through the bathroom window you normally kept unlocked . You stripped away the skin tight fabric before wrapping yourself in the familiar comfort of your robe as you exited the room into a dim lit living room.

You heart stick in your chest as you see Miguel standing there in your living room in his bright blue spider suit and a beautiful spring lily in his hand.

“Miguel? What are you doing here?…” You ask as yoy warily approach him, scared he’s gonna do something to you.

He shakes his head, refusing to answer as he hands you the flower. It’s soft white petals shining in the pale moonlight as you smile fondly at it. They were your favorite flower. Something you told Miguel a million times before.

Before you could thank him for the kind gesture, a soft thump above you alrets you to look up. A spindle of glowing webbing cascaded down the ceiling with the large spiderman now suspended upside down from it. His free hand caresses the side of your face as his eyes stared softly into yours.

“I can’t change the canon, mi amor…” he whispers sadly before mischief lights up his molten gaze. “But we certainly can try to rewrite the stars for us.”

An excited nod from you causes his chest to rumble as he pulls you into a slow passionate kiss.

You were glad this is a canon event for spider men despite it not going as planned.

[eddiexmunsonlover-archive]

One Step Away From You (Chapter 14)

BSF!Eddie Munson x PlusSize!GF!Reader

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Chapter Summary: With Spring Break comes college visits and free time to spend with your friends and boyfriend. Giving the party the carefree spring break they deserve <3 WC: 6.4k Warnings: MDNI 18+ ONLY. S4 rewrite. Filthy smut. Squirting. Fingering (fem receiving). Unprotected piv. Creampie. Explicit language. Lots of pet names used. Fluff and comfort. Hints of the uncertainty of the future, but mostly just fun times with the group and Eddie. Series taglist: @eddie-is-a-god @siriusmaraudeers @amandahobblepot @littlexdeaths Shout out to @londonfog-chan for giving me some brilliant Dustin ideas! So sorry this chapter took longer than usual to get out, but I hope y'all enjoy!

Friday, March 21st, 1986

In between your afternoon classes, you diverge from the hallways to the outside courtyards for a cigarette. Greeted by the sight of two of your younger friends sitting by the payphone. Reading their demeanor and tone of voice, it’s easy to tell they’ve gotten nowhere on the mission Eddie gave them.

“No luck?” you ask, coming to stand beside them.

“No” Dustin sighs, hanging his head.

“It’s hopeless. I mean, why can’t they just reschedule the ball game?!” Mike whines, hands thrown out in frustration. You scoff out a laugh with a shake of your head.

“Oh, come on. Far more people, including the school board, are involved in the scheduling and financing of our school sports. You think they’re going to reschedule for our little DnD club?”

Mike knows you’re right, but he can’t shake it off.

“Well then why can’t Lucas just skip? He’s been sitting on the bench this whole season anyway! I mean, he’s putting that stupid game before us!”

You take a seat on the bench next to them with a sigh, drawing another drag from your cigarette.

“Lucas… is on his own path right now. He’s doing what he thinks is right for him. Whether we agree with it or not, he’s gotta figure it out for himself.”

They take your words in silence, struggling with the helpless feeling of the reality of it all.

“Still, we’ve had no luck finding a sub. We’ve tried every clique and club. I tried asking Max.”

“I even tried asking Nancy!”

“Nancy? I respect the effort, but you didn’t actually think she’d do it?”

“No, but I had to try!”

You and the boys sit in silence, as they hang their heads, your eyes roam around your surroundings. Students mulling about between classes. 

“You know, I think you’ll find the perfect sub if you look just a tad bit farther.”

You give them a smirk when they turn to you, a soft nod of your head in the direction of Hawkins Middle School only a yard away.

Their eyes follow the direction before turning to each other.

“Holy shit, you’re a genius!” Dustin exhales, jumping from his seat and wasting no time in beginning the short run across the parking lot with Mike in tow. 

“You can thank me later” you mutter with a smile, taking the last drag of your cigarette.

“This is Hellfire club, not babysitting club.”

“I’m 11, you long-haired freak”

“My, my. The child speaks. So, what’s your name, child?” Eddie pushes, rising from his throne to approach her. 

“Erica Sinclair” she declares unwaveringly.

“So this is Sinclair’s infamous sister.” Eddie remarks in amusement.

“He’s sharp.”

You watch with your arms crossed, enjoying the back and forth. Looking at Erica in admiration and pride, always so confident in herself. When Eddie gives a look to quiet the older members  laughter, your expression doesn’t waver, biting your bottom lip to stifle your grin as you watch how it all unfolds.

“What’s your class and level? Level one dwarf?”

“My name is Lady Applejack. And I’m a chaotic-good half-elf rogue level 14 and I will sneak behind any monster you throw my way and stab them in the back with my poison-soaked kukri and I’ll smile as I watch them die a slow, agonizing death. So, we gonna do this, or are we gonna keep chit-chatting like this is your mommy’s book club?”

Eddie slowly backs away from her in surprise, though keeping a stone straight face. You have to keep yourself from breaking out into applause right before his head slowly tilts your way, surveying you with narrowed eyes.

“Let me guess. You babysat this one too, hmm?”

“She already had the fire in her, just helped teach her how to wield it. That’s all.” You offer with a nonchalant shrug, grin becoming harder to bite back.

You watch the smirk slowly spread across his lips before he turns it toward Erica, finally extending his hand to her in truce.

“Welcome to Hellfire”

As you expected, Erica turns out to be a great sub, securing Vecna’s defeat in an electric campaign. You’re all smiles, hooping and hollering as you meander down the halls, trailing behind the rest of the club with Eddie. Your cheers soon blend in with that of the other student’s departing from the basketball game as you enter the parking lot. A win for the Hawkins Tigers as well, you can only assume.

You spot the basketball team rallied around each other across the parking lot, catching onto one particular face as he looks among your club with an expression you clock right away.

“Hey, give me a minute. I’ll catch up, alright?” You quickly tell your boyfriend when Lucas’s eyes land on you.

“Alright, hurry up.” Eddie offers you a sweet smile and a peck on your lips before joining the rest of the club.

You gesture your head toward a vehicle close by, blocking the view from the rest of the team.

Lucas manages to slip away without any of them seeing you.

“I take it you guys won?” you ask excitedly, trying to pull a smile out of his down wrought expression.

“Yeah, finally got pulled from the bench. I made the winning shot.” He answers with a half smile.

“Lucas! That’s great, man. Congratulations!” Your enthusiasm and smile is genuine, pulling a bashful one from him before his eyes waver toward the club, his little sister among them.

“I take it you guys won too.” he remarks, smile faltering. You don’t need to turn around to see where he’s looking.

“Hey. I’m sorry none of us were able to be there to watch you. I wish I’d of seen it, I really do. But you know how Eddie is, it’d take an earthquake for him to cancel Hellfire. Shit, he’d probably still have it even then.”

“Yeah, I get it.” His eyes fall to look down at his shoes, sadness seeping into his voice.

“Lucas. I understand what you’re doing, why you’re doing it. I do. Even if it means associating yourself with the people that bully us.” Your gaze flickers over to the group of jocks as his head hangs. You pull his attention to look back at you with a gentle squeeze of his arm. 

“Hey. We care about you, and we’re always gonna be your friends. You’ve gotta do what you think is right for you. Just… don’t forget who you are in the process, alright?” You plead to him with your eyes, hoping he understands you.

“Yeah, alright.” Lucas nods, offering a weak smile of acknowledgement.

“Now go on, go celebrate with your team. And please, make smart decisions.”

“Alright. Thanks, Y/N.” You pull a real laugh from him, watching as he waves bye before going to rejoin his team who welcome him back with cheers and open arms.

You let yourself observe for a few seconds before you go searching for your own group. Soon finding your boyfriend waiting at the van.

“Come on, pretty girl. We’ve got a whole van load of people to drop off.” He remarks with an unamused expression.

You climb in, laughing as you see all 6 of the other members piled into the back.

“How the hell did I get roped into this again?” He questions you after climbing into the driver's seat with keys in hand, the excited chatter of the club quickly overtaking the confined metal box on wheels.

“Oh I don’t know, because you’re an oh-so generous Dungeon Master and friend?” you sweet talk him with a flutter of your eyelashes and a squeeze of his jean-clad thigh. His eyes follow your hand before looking back up to you with a raised brow.

“Let’s uh, get them home as quick as possible, yeah?” He determines with a quick glance to the back of the van, hastily inserting the keys and starting the ignition. Your giggles join the sound of the squealing tires and club members' mingling as he burns rubber leaving the parking lot.

Eddie was already planning to spend all night with you in his bedroom ahead of your plans to depart with your mom in the morning for a weekend college visit. His plans are now only solidified by your teasing nature that you take far too much pleasure in.

The club members are left at the end of their driveways with a parting cloud of dust.

Barely an hour after departing Hawkins High, Eddie has you stripped and spread open in his bed.

His bare chest is pressed against your side as his tongue swirls with yours and his hand slides between your legs, fingers teasing your clit. Switching the amount of pressure his fingers apply on your sensitive bud, from calloused pads barely ghosting over your clit to applying full pressure, just to tease you. Getting you closer and closer to the edge before pulling back, chuckling in the way your body chases the pleasure, pushing your pussy against his hands for the friction.

“Eddieeeeee, stop being mean”

“I’m not being mean, sweetheart. Just love the way you whine for me when I tease you.”

He gives in to you, no longer teasing as his finger circles your clit just the way you like it. Making you purr for him, moaning into his mouth. One of your hands is lost in his hair as the other grips his bicep. Your leg hoisted over his, keeping you spread open to his liking, full access to play with you as he pleases.

He groans as his fingers dip down to slide into your soaking wet pussy, thumb taking the place to rub circles into your clit.

“Can’t believe you’re gonna deprive me of this sweet pussy for two days… now that’s mean” He mumbles against your lips.

You can only respond in the form of pathetic whimpers, he turns you into mush and he knows it, loves it, craves it. You deepen the kiss as your walls flutter around his thick fingers slowly sliding in and out of you. His fingers slide over a particularly sensitive spot, pulling a high-pitched moan from your lips, your pussy tightening around his fingers.

“Mmm, is that your spot, baby?” His fingers rub over it again, pulling another moan from you. “That feel good?” he practically moans, watching your face twist up in pleasure from his touch.

Your head nods fervently, your grip on his arm tightening.

“Fuck, yes. Right there, baby.” you manage to get out through gasps, letting your head fall back as the pleasure courses through your body, a pressure building in your core.

Eddie quickens the speed of his fingers thrusting in and out, pushing up against the spongy spot at the top of your walls. A trail of wet, open mouth kisses are dotted all over your neck and chest as your breaths quicken with the unrelenting pace and pressure of his fingers.

“Fuck Eddie, feel like I’ve gotta pee” you whine out, feeling the build up of pressure in your core like it’s about to burst.

“S’okay, baby. Don’t hold back, just let go. I’ve got you.” he pants against your ear.

Every muscle in your body begins to tighten, your thighs shaking as you reach your breaking point. With your eyes squeezed shut, all you can hear over your moans and panting is a gushing wet sound mixing with the thrusts of Eddie’s fingers.

“Holy shit” the muffled sound of his voice breaks through the ringing in your ears as you ride out your high. “Fuck, you just squirted for me. So fucking hot.”

His mouth is back on yours in a heated kiss. When your lips part, you look down to see the evidence of your newly found ‘skill’. A wet spot on his sheets right between your legs.

“Shit, Eds. I’m sorry”

“Sorry? For what?” He asks incredulously.

“For staining your sheets” You say with a light laugh, nodding your head to the big wet spot below you. His eyes follow yours to the stain before looking back to you with a big grin,

“What do you say we make some more, huh?” A soft kiss, sucking your bottom lip between his. “Think you can do that again for me, baby?”

He doesn’t need an answer before he’s moving from your side to between your legs, hovering over you.

“I didn’t even know I could do it in the first place.” A heavy sigh parts from your lips with a laugh, finally catching your breath before your boyfriend sets on stealing it away from you again.

He kisses you for a few moments, letting his stiff cock rub against your pussy, covered in your slick and juices, amping him up even more. His hard, thick cock sliding inside you with no resistance, making his eyes roll back at the feeling. The feeling of your perfect pussy, and how wet it gets just for him.

His hands hook under the back of your knees, holding them back as far as he can. The force lifting your ass off the damp sheets beneath you. The position helps his cock get closer to lining up against your sensitive spot. He doesn’t waste time taking it slow, he knows he doesn’t need to.

Your pussy already soaking for him, he starts his thrusts hard and deep. Watching your puffy lips wrap around him, sucking him in. The squeals of pleasure falling from your lips each time his hips connect with yours.

The feeling of him inside you, the way his cock stretches you no matter how wet you are is enough to drive you crazy, turn you into a moaning mess beneath him. The position does help for his cock to just barely nudge against your g-spot with each thrust, but it’s not enough and he knows it.

In a second he’s snatching a pillow and moving your ankles to his shoulders.

“Lift your ass up for me”

You use his shoulders for leverage as he shoves the pillow under your ass before his hands are holding your legs back again. Leaning down to give you soft, sweet kisses while his cock is stuffing you so deep his tip nudges against your cervix. Before you can grasp onto him he’s leaning back again, picking up where he left off.

The added pillow was the perfect touch, making your toes curl with each thrust of his cock that rubs against your spot just right. You grip onto the only thing you can, the sheets underneath you while he aligns the direction of his thrusts with your moans, finding the perfect angle and rhythm to send you unraveling beneath him in mere minutes. 

“Gonna make you feel so good, baby” he moans, feeling you tighten around him with each bump of his cock against your spongy spot. The familiar sensation, pressure in your core begins to build again.

One hand leaves the back of your knee to gently push down on your mound, adding to the pressure building in your core, making sure his cock hits your g-spot with each thrust, his thumb reaching down to rub your swollen clit. 

“Fuuuck, Eddie! Oh my god!” You nearly scream out, the pleasure taking over your body is overwhelming, it’s intense, and feels so fucking good. 

You can feel tears falling out of the corner of your eyes and landing on the sheets below you, the squeaking and scraping of the bed frame against the floor.

“That’s it, baby. Give me what I want. Squirt all over my cock for me” He sputters through moans and pants, taking everything in him to hold back his own orgasm till he gives you your second.

He knows just what you need, just what to say, that final push to send you plummeting over the edge. You yell out as you fall into your second orgasm of the night, taking over all your senses. Your free leg tightening around his back, your walls tightening around his cock, everything in your body tightens as your orgasm rocks through you. It’s the hardest you’ve ever cum in your life. 

As soon as Eddie feels your wetness gushing around his cock, he immediately falters. Holding himself deep inside you as he groans out while his cum fills you up. A sensation you’ve quickly grown to love and crave from him.

His body relaxes onto yours, your hands embracing each other.

“Jesus Christ, Eds!” You groan out between attempts to catch your breath.

“You did so good for me, sweetheart” He mutters against your ear, making you involuntarily clench around his sensitive cock. He lets out a soft hiss, pulling himself out from inside you with a chuckle. “I wonder how many more times I can make you do that…”

“Oh my god, you’re trying to kill me” you whine out before joining in with his laughter.

“Just like making you feel good, making you cum for me.” His lips trail up your jawline. “I’ll let you rest for the night, but I won’t be satisfied until this bed is covered in your stains.”

“You’re a very depraved man” you chuckle, playfully slapping his arm before his lips meet yours again.

Staying tangled in his embrace for the remainder of the night, through your slumber and until the morning comes.

With a parting kiss… or two, lingering hands on your sides that don’t leave until you move from his grasp, you depart from Eddie in the early hours of Saturday morning. He watches from the porch like a sad puppy as you walk to your trailer and depart with your mother in her station wagon for a weekend trip to visit Ohio State University.

A subtle seed of doubt is planted in that moment.

The drive to Columbus, Ohio is far from the worst, only a fraction of the drive to Virginia. You occupy your thoughts and attention to the unfamiliar route, passing towns, cities and landmarks you’ve never seen, small talk with your mother, and singing along to the songs on the radio carrying you along on your journey.

Your visit at the college isn’t bad either, by all accounts it goes rather well. A vast campus with classic architecture in a big, new city. You’re impressed by the academics, the sense of community, and the countless opportunities offered in the state’s capital. It’s clear the university holds promise for you and your future, but as you roam the campus you can’t rid yourself of the emptiness that comes with the prospect of attending there. 

4 hours away from your home, from your friends, from Eddie. 4 hours of distance is nothing compared to the 11 that previously separated you, it’s true. Still, the idea of parting ways again so soon after finally getting to the point in your relationship with Eddie that all these years have been building to, years of yearning and heartbreak… it’s not an idea you’re ready to accept.

You feel every minute of the 4 hour drive back to Hawkins. Every minute of distance that would be between you and your life at home as you know it. It doesn’t warm you up to the idea anymore than when you were at the campus. 

Neither does the sight of your loving boyfriend and best friend, waiting on his porch with a cigarette for your arrival.

Wrapping your body in his strong, warm arms and your lips with his, softly rocking you side to side in the embrace.

“Miss me?” you tease, looking up into his chocolate eyes.

“Every second you were gone, baby.” He mutters in a husky tone, meeting your lips again for a long, sweet kiss. Whisking you away into Wayne’s trailer, intent on not letting you step foot outside it again for the remainder of the day.

Having the whole week off for Spring Break opens up an abundance of free time, and you don’t know any better way to spend it than with your boyfriend and group of friends. On your days off from work, you’re free to get lost in any adventure imaginable, no matter if it was spending your Monday at Dustin’s with your friends playing his Atari all day, going to the movies and shopping with Steve and Robin on Wednesday, or a day at the lake on Friday. It’s a small taste of what’s to come for summer, freed from the confines of school. The last truly ‘free’ summer you’ll have before adulthood and all that comes with it.

Friday, March 28th, 1986

What was meant to be a fun, relaxing afternoon with your friends at Lover’s Lake is off to a rocky start. Rather than take the road you and Eddie had taken before that leads right to the waterfront, Steve listened to Dustin’s insistence on parking at the entrance that many hunters in the area used, a mile of trails between your cars and the lake.

No big deal, nothing wrong with a little hike. That is until the two leading the group, Dustin and Steve, begin bickering over the location of Skull Rock.

“Dude, I’m telling you you’re taking us the wrong way.”

“It’s north, I’m positive!” Dustin asserts, flashing Steve his compass.

“You do realize Skull Rock is like a super popular makeout spot.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Yeah, well it wasn’t popular until I made it popular. I practically invented it, you’re going in the wrong direction.”

“Yeah Dusty, don’t you know Steve is the ladies man of Hawkins? You think he wouldn’t know where Skull Rock is?” You tease, Eddie and you trailing behind them.

“Yeah, and he’s right. You’re definitely going in the wrong direction.” Eddie asserts, earning a 

“Thank you!” from Steve.

You spare a side-ways glance to Eddie with a cocked brow.

“And what would you know about the most popular make-out spot in town?” You question.

“I’ve been there for the occasional deal, that’s all” He declares with his arms raised. “I promise, lovebug.” He finishes, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“Ugh, no. Not that one.” You laugh despite your face scrunching up.

“You know, no matter how much you say you don’t like one, it still puts a blush on those cute, chubby cheeks.” He asserts while leaning closer to your ear, his hand reaching up to pinch your round cheeks. You quickly swat it away.

“I’m going to fuck you up, Munson.” you threaten, all talk and no bite. Smile still plastered on your face.

“Oh that’s alright, darling. I’ll find one you like eventually.” 

You roll your eyes, playfully nudging his side as you divert from the path Dustin was leading to follow Steve.

It’s a little game Eddie’s been playing the last few days, trying out different pet names on you to find one that sticks, one that feels right. It’s his own new loving way of teasing you, reveling in the reactions he gets out of you and how flustered the names make you.

“Oh Boom! Bada Bing Bada Boom! There she is, Henderson! Skull Rock in your face, man. Your stupid, cocky, little face.” Steve exclaims, opening the clearing of tree branches to reveal none other than Skull Rock.

“Alright, easy tiger.” You chuckle, patting Steve on the shoulder as you pass him to survey the famous sight.

“You knowwww” Eddie begins, creeping up next to you. “We can make this our new spot, honey bunny.”

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head before meeting his eyes.

“Honey bunny, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s perfect for you. Honey, cause you’re so sweet” His hip bumps yours. “And bunny…well, cause of the way you ride m-” Your hand flies up to cover his mouth, but you can still see the shit-eating grin underneath.

“Not in front of the children, Edward.” You teasingly scold him, wide-eyed. Removing your hand when a quick look around shows the others in their own conversations, Steve and Dustin still arguing.

“Oh yeah, that’s the one.” He smirks, holding your hips before placing his lips on yours.

“Ahem. I know I said this is a makeout spot but uh- you don’t have to take it literally.” Steve chimes in from behind Eddie, who instantly flips him the bird.

“Don’t gotta be jealous, Stevie.” Eddie teases when your lips part, turning to face Steve with a cheeky smile.

“I’m not jealous” Steve scoffs, arms crossed against his chest.

“Alright, alright. We’ve seen Skull Rock, now can we actually get to where we came here for?” You ask, stepping around Eddie to face Steve.

With that, your group is back off into the woods. Dustin and Steve lead the pack again, still arguing about Skull Rock as you head in the direction of the lake.

Upon reaching the water, you have the whole afternoon to spare. You and Robin sit on the pier, dipping your toes in and gossiping about your lives. You listen to her ramble about her crush that she can’t do anything about, being a supportive, understanding friend. Watching Steve, Eddie, Dustin, Lucas throw around a football on the shore line. You, Robin, and Max walk along the water searching for cool looking rocks to take back home with you.

“Man, we should’ve brought our bathing suits” Steve remarks, hands on his hips as he looks out at the soft waves on the lake.

“Shit, we could still strip down to our underwear and hop in” Eddie looks at you when you scoff. “Oh come on, honey bunny. Why don’t you hop in?” He flashes a bright smile at you as you give him an amused look, arms crossed.

“Yeah right, that water is freezing. I’d like to see you do it first.”

“I’m sure you would” he replies smugly with a wink, earning a light-hearted eye roll.

“Should’ve brought some fishing rods too.” Lucas adds.

“Shit, I don’t think I’ve ever been fishing before.” 

“Well hell, kid. You don’t need fishing rods to catch a fish.”

You all watch in curiosity as Eddie grabs a sturdy, fallen stick and whips out his pocket knife, sharpening one end of the stick until it’s sharp and pointy.

“A spear… you’re going to catch fish with a spear?” Dustin questions with zero faith in his dungeon master.

“Worked for the cavemen” Eddie shrugs, taking off his shoes and socks, rolling up his jeans before he begins wading off into the water.

It’s dead quiet as you all watch him, intently staring down at the water with spear in hand, ready to strike in a split second. When he does, none of you expect the fish that he pulls out of the water at the end of it. He looks back to you all with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Looks like we’re having fish for dinner, sweet cheeks.”

“Oh, there’s no way in hell.” Steve quips in disbelief, rising to his feet.

“You’ve gotta teach me how to do that!” Dustin mutters in bewilderment. 

Soon, Eddie’s fashioned spears for all of you. Knee deep in the lake searching for fish to catch. Light laughter and mutterings of profanities floating across the water.

While half of you aren’t lucky enough to imitate Eddie’s catch, Steve and Max end up catching fish of their own.

You spend the last hour of sunlight making a small fire to cook the three fish you caught, half of you watching in disgust, the other half watching in interest as Eddie cleans them.

“I didn’t take you for a fisherman, Eddie” Robin comments in surprise, watching his effortless movements.

“Well, my Dad and Wayne have done their fair share of fishing trips, some of which I was dragged along to.”

You sit in a circle around the dying fire, eating your fish and watching as the sunset paints a cascade of colors in the sky, reflecting along the water.

When darkness falls around you, the group makes the trek back through the wooded trails with flashlights in hand, laughing as Eddie tries to spook the younger kids, making up ghost stories about the surrounding woods.

A quiet sigh of relief falls among the group as Eddie’s van and Steve’s BMW finally come into view.

“So, you guys excited for your trip to Indy tomorrow?” Steve asks, fishing the keys out of his pockets.

“Wait, you guys are going up to Indy?” Dustin nearly stops in his tracks.

“Yeah, bright and early. I’ve got a college visit up at Indiana University.”

“Mhmm, we’re gonna do some exploring, go to some record shops, make a whole day of it.” Eddie shares as he stands behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you against him, chin resting on your shoulder.

“Shit, can I come too? Heard there’s this really cool, big comic book store up there!”

“I don’t know, Dusty. I don’t think your mom would be crazy about the idea.” You say regretfully, face twisting in uncertainty.

“Are you kidding, my mom loves you!”

“Yeah, she hasn’t seen Eddie’s driving though.”

“Excuse me, we always get where we’re going in one piece.”

You laugh, playfully nudging him with your elbow when his fingers tickle your sides before you bring your attention back to Dustin.

“Ugh. I don’t know, maybe next time okay?”

His head hangs with a small nod.

“Okay…”

“Oh god. Don’t guilt trip me, Henderson!” You plead, feeling the regret already seeping in.

“No no, it’s okay.” He sighs. “Guess I’ll just spend my day at Family Video harassing Steve.”

“Ha yeah, we’ll see how well that works out for you.” Steve scoffs.

You part from your friends with a hug and wishes for a safe trip for the two of you before climbing into the van with Max in tow to head home to the trailer park.

Another night falling asleep in Eddie’s arms, filled with excitement for a full day of adventure planned for just the two of you.

Saturday, March 29th, 1986

The ringing of Eddie’s alarm clock comes far too soon, waking you both from your peaceful slumber with groans and yawns. 

“Just 5 more minutes..” Eddie mumbles as he buries his face in your neck. You giggle, running your fingers through his hair.

“5 more minutes turns into us being late, love.” 

As you part from his grasp to look for your change of clothes, he releases a pitiful ‘Hmph’ before joining you to scuffle around his room, looking for any decent clean clothes he has.

Shortly after as the sun rises in the morning sky, you load into Eddie’s van to begin the hour and a half drive up to Indianapolis. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, blasting the radio, and singing along to Keep on Loving You by REO Speedwagon as you pull onto the main highway. 

Once you’ve gone a fair distance, your head rolls against the headrest to look at Eddie.

“I’m gonna need some caffeine soon, babe.”

As soon as his head turns to meet yours he releases a big yawn, shaking his head with a laugh.

“Shit, me too.” His eyes search for exit signs on the side of the highway. “There’s a McDonald’s at the next exit, we can get some breakfast?”

As his head turns to look at you, he catches movement in the back of the van in his peripheral.

“Oooh some hash browns sound good!” Dustin’s head pops up between you from his previous position laying in the back of the van.

Both of you nearly jump out of your seat, screaming at the unexpected third voice joining you in the van. 

“Jesus H. Christ!” Eddie yells, white knuckling the steering wheel as he jerks the van back into the lane, beginning to veer off toward the ditch on the side of the road from the distraction.

“What the fuck, Henderson?!” you exclaim, looking back at him in disbelief as he only meets you with a wide, toothy grin.

“What? I decided to take matters into my own hands! Have you ever known me to take ‘no’ for an answer, hmm?”

“Yeah and you almost just got us killed!” Eddie argues, taking deep inhales through his nostrils to calm himself.

“Well, maybe you should’ve been paying better attention to the road rather than ogling your girlfriend.” Dustin retorts with his signature cocky tone.

You see Eddie bite his lower lip, taking everything in him to not flip out. Your hand reaches to squeeze his thigh, letting him focus on the road before turning back to Dustin.

“How did you even get in here?”

“Well, someone leaves his van unlocked at night. I biked over at the crack of dawn, hid my bike behind the trailer and climbed in through the back.”

Eddie’s eyes meet yours, shaking your heads in disbelief. You can’t help but laugh.

“And Steve says he’s always the babysitter…” You mutter with a sigh, looking out the window as Eddie takes an exit ramp.

“Hey, I’m not a child!”

“No, but you are a minor that I am now responsible for watching over in a big city!”

“Okay, look. I promise, I will be on my best behavior. I’ll be right by your side the whole time!”

“Oh, I feel so much better now!” Eddie announces sarcastically. You smirk at him before rubbing a hand over your face exasperatedly.

“So… about those hash browns”

Your moods eventually lighten with the greasy fast food breakfast, caffeine, and the dwindling miles separating you from your destination.

Eddie’s fingers stay firmly entwined with yours throughout the campus tour, walking the pathways and exploring the buildings. A mere mile from the heart of the city, its tallest buildings are visible from nearly any spot at the college.

You’re not sure if it’s merely the effect of having Eddie and Dustin with you as you explore one of your prospective colleges or your faint familiarity with the city you’ve visited on occasion, but you find yourself at total ease. Effortlessly imagining yourself attending there, walking down the street to explore shops after classes, making the manageable drive back to Hawkins on weekends to visit your loved ones. 

You don’t want to be rash and get your hopes up considering you haven’t gotten any acceptances yet, but it feels good here.

As promised, after your tour is done and the campus efficiently explored, the 3 of you make a day out of exploring the rest of Indianapolis. 

Stopping at a cute little coffee and bakery shop, eying the multitude of fashion stores that line the streets. Finally finding the comic book store Dustin had mentioned, far bigger than you ever imagined and spending over an hour inside browsing the comics and action figures. You’d even found new figurines and dice for DnD that Eddie quickly scooped up, excited for another little project of painting the new figurines for the next Hellfire campaigns.

Then, to the part you and Eddie were looking forward to the most, visiting the biggest music store in Indianapolis that just so happened to have a Guitar Center right next door. Perusing the aisles of vinyl records and cassette tapes, snatching up Ozzy Osbourne’s new The Ultimate Sin album as soon as you see it, after weeks of waiting for it to arrive at Hawkins’ stores. You and Eddie even found merch for Metallica’s new Master of Puppets album, both eagerly grabbing a new t-shirt. Dustin finding yet another Weird Al shirt to add to his collection.

Next, you marvel at the shiny, brand new guitars lining the walls of Guitar Center. Setting your sights and hearts on the next ones to be added to your collection. You and Dustin watch as Eddie tests one out, smiling widely and headbanging along as he plays Master of Puppets, a song you’ve witnessed him spend the last few weeks trying to perfect. 

Though you end up leaving the guitar store empty handed, both you and Eddie leave with the image of your next guitar seared into your minds, the next thing you save up your money for.

With sore feet, all your objectives crossed off and the sun setting, the three of you climb back into Eddie’s van to head home. As soon as the van merges back on the highway, you slide your new Ozzy tape into Eddie’s radio, providing the soundtrack to your drive home. You all nod along and headbang to each passing song.

The last song, A Shot in the Dark begins to play and immediately pulls you in.

But a shot in the dark

One step away from you

Just a shot in the dark

Always creeping up on you, alright

The words of the chorus linger in your mind as Ozzy’s voice carries into the next verse. You know it doesn’t reflect the real meaning of the lyrics by the musicians, but as you mull them over you can’t help but think about your relationship with Eddie. What it took to get to where you are now, the time and feelings, the risk.

The risk it took for Eddie to pick you up and take you to the lake that night, hoping he’d get you to open up to him. The risk it took for you to finally lay it all out, your feelings and love for him. Neither of you knowing where it would go, if the risk would be worth it. It was a shot in the dark.

One step away from you. That’s how it truly felt before that night. 

You and Eddie had always been so close, but your hidden feelings were lodged right in the middle. A dark, looming bubble of words and feelings left unsaid wedged between you, keeping you apart. 

One step away.

A bubble that needed to be burst, popped to get to where you are now.

Your eyes trail from the road to your boyfriend next to you, nodding along the music.

The happiest, and closest you’ve ever been.

That whole time, one step was all it was keeping you from what you both always wanted. 

One step, a shot in the dark you’re so glad you both took that night.

When the chorus comes back around, you sing along as your hand reaches out for his. He turns to you with that loving smile, fingers wrapping around yours and resting on the middle console between you.

[needle-thread-thimble-spear]

Revolutionary Girl Utena and Epistemic Violence

or

Why Anthy is not a trans girl (but she is to me)

~~

Ohtori, as any good setting tends to, carries a lot of thematic weight. It’s a fairy world, where metaphorical illusion blurs personal hopes over a poisoned interior structure, to the point where an outside perspective may struggle to distinguish between what a character is thinking and what is actually happening. Time and memory are suggestions whispered in the ear of its students, a cyclic hell where the same puppets are played in position, memories broken but dreams intact, to test new victims and forge new swords. A kingdom of nowhen, ruled from above by a king that refuses to see that the prison he built cannot ever free him. A hierarchy where the misogyny taught to children to prepare them for the grown up version is baked into the very structure of the world, belying a culture of horrible sexual violence. And at the very bottom of that hierarchy, the victim-witch, is the kings own sister. A sort of broken Omelas, where one girl must suffer forever and ever, not to end the suffering of others, but to keep them in the dark. Especially her brother. What Ohtori is, and the hierarchies that it represents both within the work and outside of it, hinges on the suffering of that girl. And, maybe more importantly, her silence.

~~

Revolutionary Girl Utena changed my life. I’ve been saying this nearly two years now, mostly as a joke, but with distance I can see it really isn’t. When you are in the depths of an abusive relationship, it is extremely difficult to see what’s happening to you. I don’t wish to dwell on my own story here too much, but how can I ignore it? RGU was the language I used to understand what had happened to me. Images from the show flit through my mind as though I were a Tamarian. Utena, in the window. Anthy, with the candelabra. Utena, her hands cut with thorns. Anthy with the white beret. After finishing the show for the first time I felt sickened. Not merely because of the subject matter depicted, raw and horrible as it is, but because I saw myself in it. Why do I feel such a kinship with Anthy?

I think, dear reader, you may be able to imagine the horror inherent to that realization. You might have felt it, you may be feeling it now.

It seemed obvious to me then, for reasons I could not begin to fathom, that Anthy was a trans girl. Reeling from my first watch, this felt like the only conclusion I could draw though I couldn’t tell you why. For years, I have drafted and redrafted essays attempting to justify this feeling. Recently, I posted an reading of Miki as a transfem character, and I don’t feel particularly strongly about that reading! Sure, aspects of his character were relatable to me, I could draw analogies well enough, but that was completely secondary to my actual goal. Practice for the transfem Anthy essay. Looking back on what I’d written now, I don’t. Hate? What I wrote. There’s definitely some aspects I’d repudiate now. If you enjoyed reading it, if it meant something to you, I’m glad. But even as I was writing it it felt incomplete and limited. And I believe I understand why.

What did I get wrong about Miki and Kozue? What lies in Ohtori’s heart? What lies in that bed of rotten rose petals?

We all know what does, but we do not want to see it and certainly don’t want to talk about it.

It’s Nanami’s disgust with Anthy, with herself. It’s Miki and Kozue’s confused but earnest posturing. It’s Utena looking up at Akio, it’s Anthy’s vacant stare.

Even here, I’m speaking in abbreviated reference. But it’s abuse, sexual, at times incestuous abuse, that touches every character in RGU.

I’d recently seen a few posts which I think hit on a really common phenomena among fans of the show. Our own stories, our own disgust, our own fears and our own traumas, sort of get in the way when we talk about RGU. I think it’s a natural consequence. RGU deals with heavy subject matter that is very difficult to sit with. I don’t think it’d be incorrect to say most western fans of RGU are queer in some way. We’re much more likely, as consequence, to suffer from interpersonal abuse. And naturally, we are drawn to these characters since they represent, with so few holds barred, some of our worst experiences. But does that make them like us?

For the record, I think it would be ridiculous to suggest that RGU isn't a queer show and that it isn't filled with queer characters. But, for as obvious a conclusion as this is, a surprising depth of that queerness is veiled in subtext. It’s worth considering, the endless arguments over whether Anthy and Utena are lesbians or bisexual, is sort of inconsequential. The important thing is that they have escaped, together! We could suppose that, were Ohtori a real place, we could go track down the two of them and demand from them an answer. How do you feel, Anthy, about your attraction to Akio? What does that mean to you? Would you please quell that horrible disgust we feel thinking about it? Inquiring readers would like to feel better know!

When one leaves Ohtori, one leaves the view of the audience. Utena and Anthy are in love with one another, but what that means to them (and themselves) is out of our reach.

And yet, I can’t seem to shake my original conclusion, from my first watch. Surely it cannot be intended! Hell, even the fact that Anthy is desi is sort of incidental to any commentary on social injustice, the motivation for depicting her (and Akio) this way was to exoticize them relative to the rest of the school. So is this image of Anthy as a brown trans girl, her position in Ohtori being a result of transmisogyny, some western myopia? Mere projection of the aggrieved self on a character who, by her nature, absorbs the feelings and impressions of those around her?

Sort of?

Revolutionary Girl Utena was created in a Japanese cultural context, to be sure, but it’s worth noting that while the precise execution of (trans)misogyny and other gender injustices may vary from culture to culture, patriarchy isn’t exactly exclusive to the west. There is a lot of different directions we could run in here, but the one I want to focus on is epistemic violence (a good primer linked here if the term is unfamiliar). *

In Ohtori, all girls are like princesses, unless they are like witches. And, sooner or later, all girls are like the rose bride, the doll-witch, the synthesis. This is how patriarchy works. There is a concept of “permissible” femininity, and an “impermissible” feminity. There is the wife, the mother, the domestic servant, who is permitted some limited social power by her utility to a patriarch (primarily as a mother to trueborn children). Then there is, well, everyone else. “Loose” women, sure, but also those who have been damaged by sexual violence. Those who cannot bear children, because of some accident of their physiology. These women are used, for feminized labor, for sex, but because of the stigma associated with them and the issues they present toward patrilineal succession, they are subject to various censure. One does not talk about survivors of sexual violence or sex workers in polite society. It is possible for some to travel between these two categories, although it is far, far easier to go from “type 1” to “type 2” than the other direction. Indeed, for some it is not possible to have ones “virtue” restored. If we aren’t being reduced to predatory inhuman monsters, trans women, both a hypersexualized object of intense fetishization and incapable of bearing children, are placed into the second category automatically. Lots of would be abusers are happy to whisper in our ears, that they will treat us like we are “type 1”, but invariably they do not.**

The most maddening thing to me about being a trans woman is this, inability for anyone to see the violence that happens to you. People don’t believe you can be the subject of (sexual) violence, even though the fact it occurs to you, regularly, should be obvious to anyone who thinks about how we are perceived for just a moment! You cannot speak up without sounding delusional, it can happen right in front of a stranger, your best friend, and they wont bat an eye. That you are so incredibly disgusting, no one would want to hurt you that way.

Anthy isn’t a trans girl. But the system that silences her, treats her like she deserves her victimization, that she is irrevocably tainted by her relationship with Akio, the system that keeps us, the audience, from internalizing the dreadful truth of her character, this veil of silence, of covered ears and closed eyes, is extant in the lives of all misbegotten gender-oppressed rejects. If we are going to draw analogies between ourselves and Anthy, or Utena, or Nanami, or any the rest of them, we need to pull back that veil. Indeed, it's confronting (and then escaping from) that choking, word-stopping bile that sits at the core of RGU's thesis. I don’t think it’s wrong for us to relate to the characters in RGU, and write about that. But we might stop to consider why before we do!

*If you’re curious to read more about patriarchy across cultures, here is a really incisive article on the phenomena of third sexing, the operation of (trans)misogyny and gendered violence in parallel across cultural contexts, and how that relates to the western and desi sphere (but also more broadly).

**It should also be noted that there can be no comparison of suffering of anyone under patriarchy. Even the most vaunted cis man, I suppose. But there can be a comparison of power, and this is why we discuss it rather than throw up our hands.

Thank you for reading, I think this is the last I'm going to write about RGU for a while, though there's quite a bit I want to say about Utena and Anthy's relationship. So someday, I'll get around to more! And a perennial thank you to @empty-movement for the high quality archival images.

[garbinge]

Chalk Drawings

Happy Lowman & Juice Ortiz & Platonic!Reader Jax Teller & Teller!Sister Reader Opie Winston x Teller!Sister Reader

Day 22 from these April Prompts: Chalk Drawings

Summary: When Happy and Juice are on protection duty and the AC is broken you and the kids take to the outside to escape the sweaty prison that’s Jax’s house as you wait for your brother and partner to come home. 

Words: 1.9k 

A/N: I’ve been having a rough couple of days so I’m not really sure what this is but, I hope you all enjoy! lol.

Warnings: pretty fluffy (for me and my writing lol), reader has a daughter with Opie (no name given), no use of Y/N, slight angst/tension, alludes to death/murder slightly, nothing that’s not canon-level. 

SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics​

It was a beautiful summer afternoon, the sun was shining, there were fluffy clouds in the sky that were shaped like cotton candy. The only downside was that the California heat had no mercy and apparently neither did Jax’s air conditioner. It had broken early in the morning and by the afternoon the whole place felt like a sauna. Fans and open windows did nothing against the real feel of 93 degrees and there were only so many popsicles you willingly wanted to give to all the kids. This is what brought you outside on the driveway that had been covered by shade all day so it was luckily not burning hot. You had the full Winston x Teller group today, Kenny, Ellie, Abel, and your 3 year old daughter with Opie. The club was in partial lockdown due to business with the Cartel. Partial lockdown usually just meant no one was left alone, everyone who was someone had protection on them, which meant it was easier for people to stay in groups. Hence why you had all the kids right now. Gemma was out with Tara grocery shopping for the house and had taken Tig with them just to keep a close eye. This left you with Juice and Happy while Jax and Opie went on a run together with a few of the other guys. 

The sprinkler was going on the grass, something for the kids to run through if they got too hot, but currently the group of them were on the driveway drawing with chalk. Abel and Kenny had paired up leaving your daughter to rest in between your legs with a piece of chalk in her hands while Ellie sat to your left doing the same. You started doodling with one of the pieces of chalk that was scattered along the driveway to pass the time as well while Happy and Juice leaned against their bikes, keeping watch all of you. 

“You wanna get your hands dirty?” You held up the pink piece of chalk and called out to the two bikers. 

Juice was quick to smile but deny the request, his way of trying to look tough. You clocked it immediately because just yesterday he was eating a spongebob popsicle off the ice cream truck when he was the only one on your watch detail. 

“Yes I do.” Happy said instantly and eagerly as he pushed off his bike. He was quick to grab the chalk from you and begin doodling on the pavement. You thought you’d be shocked at his instant agreement to join you on the ground with the pastel art tools but surprisingly, it was exactly what you expected. Happy knelt on the pavement, one knee touching the ground while the other was being used as an armrest for the arm that wasn’t creating a chalk masterpiece. 

“C’mon Juice.”  You nodded your head to wave him over. 

“Yea, c’mon Juice!” Your daughter called out with a smile. 

You smirked at that and so did Juice as he walked over to you both. The little girl in your lap holding out the pink piece of chalk up to the biker. 

“Thanks,” His smirk not falling as he grabbed the chalk from the girl. 

“S’my favorite color.” She beamed at you and said the color’s name to show how smart she was. “Pink.” 

“It’s Juice’s too.” You teased and patted to the free space next to you as he shook his head and blushed. “Show me what you got, Juicy.” 

He started drawing stick figures, graffiti words, tribal drawings like his tattoos. 

“Can you draw me a flower?” Your daughter was quick to crawl out of your lap and sit in front of Juice. 

“I can try.” He began to try and draw some version of a flower, although it was looking more like a blob. 

“That’s not very good.” She tilted her head and frowned at it. 

You called out your daughters name, a warning to be nice although it didn’t do much. 

“Why does your hair look like that.” She asked as she drew over Juice’s flower creating her own masterpiece. 

Juice practically spit out the sip of water he just took at the girl’s question. 

“Why don’t you go see what Abel and Kenny are drawing, huh? Go ask Happy your questions.” You interrupted to give Juice a break. The girl shrugged and skipped her way over to the other group on the driveway. You knew Happy could handle the questions and would give them right back which entertained her. 

“Can you teach me how to draw that?” You heard her voice behind you as she stood over Happy’s shoulders. 

“I sure can.” He nodded and handed her the yellow piece of chalk before the sounds of the chalk hitting the pavement filled the air.

“Mommy look!” She called out and you turned to see the tons of smiley faces drawn on the ground, some smiling, some crying, some grinning. Your eyes jumped to Happy and back to the drawings a few times. No one came out and told you what Happy’s name meant, but being a Teller you had been around the clubhouse enough to see Happy hit the ring which meant seeing the array of smiley tats across his lower abdomen. It didn’t take a genius to put it together. 

You weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or be mortified, the kids had no idea what it meant but there was a part of you that felt like there was something eerie about it. 

“Nice drawings.” Your eyebrows raised at him with a smirk as your nostrils flared. 

Happy smiled, oblivious to your sarcasm and nodded.

The sound of motorcycle engines filled the air, but there was no sign of who it was yet. Happy and Juice quick to stand up, Happy picking up your young daughter while you got up as well. He handed the girl to you before walking to the end of the driveway with Juice. As you situated the girl in your arms you began to walk near the garage door and called the rest of the kids over to you. There was a pit in your stomach, you grabbed your nephew and placed him behind you and told Kenny and Ellie to do the same as you guided them as well, using yourself as a human shield to them as you typed in the code to the garage door. 

The bikes got closer and as the sound got louder so did your thumping heart. The garage door was taking its sweet time to open, you tried your best to keep your wits about you as to not scare the kids but it was hard when Happy and Juice were reaching for there pieces. 

“Let’s play a game!” Your head snapped to the kids as the garage door opened. “Go inside and we’ll play hide-n-seek! Only rule is you MUST stay in the house. You hide and I’ll find you!” 

The kids giggled and immediately ran inside the house, your daughter wasn’t eager to leave your arms to play so you kept her in your grip, her head rested on your shoulder which soon dropped in relief as you saw the reaper on the bikes that were approaching. You recognized both bikes, your brother and Opie’s. A breath you didn’t realize you had been holding in let out and you closed your eyes in reassurance. 

Happy and Juice fell back quickly too, their relief looking a little different than your own. As both men pulled up to the curb and backed their bikes up, you started to walk down the driveway. Opie walked over to Happy and Juice likely to fill in the crew on what had just happened while Jax walked up to you. 

“You look like you just saw a ghost.” His long blond hair blew in the hot heat as his smirk grew. 

“I thought I was about to become one.” The only reason you let the joke out was because within the few minutes of your daughter being in your arms she had fallen asleep. 

He frowned and picked his hand up to tuck your daughters hair behind her ear. 

“I’ve been on edge, heard the bikes.” You shook your head and looked down. 

“We figured it all out, we’re fine, you’re safe.” His eyes jumped from yours to the girl in your arms, “all of you.” 

Jax’s eyes looked down at the concrete to see the chalk drawings on the ground, clocking the smiley faces immediately and let out a chuckle. 

“Really, Hap?” Jax called out to the man who smiled and nodded. 

At this point, Opie was walking over, his tall body standing over you in seconds as he placed a kiss on your head. 

“Hey, you okay?” His brows furrowed picking up on your tension. 

“We spooked her.” Jax teased you as he pinched your elbow. 

Opie’s eyes moved back to yours looking for confirmation. 

“I’m fine.” You argued and looked up to Opie who smiled knowing that the sibling rivalry was coming through in your short worded sentence. 

“Where the kids?” He asked still smiling. 

“Inside, I told them we’re playing hide-n-seek if you want to go find them.” You knew both men would pick up on the fact you told them to hide and probably why but before either of them could get to the bottom of why you were so on edge besides the obvious, your daughter was stirring awake. 

“Look who's here.” You whispered to her as she sat up in your arms and you turned so she could see her father. 

“Hi Daddy.” Her voice was still half asleep. 

“Hi baby.” Opie’s arms extended out so he could grab her. “I drew smileys with Happy.” She rested her head against his shoulder in an attempt to go back to sleep. Opie looked down at the pavement and then back to you. 

“She also asked Juice about his haircut.” You crossed your arms. 

“It looks funny.” She said still at a mumble causing Opie and Jax to laugh. 

“I think it does too.” Jax started to walk inside the house. “Ready or not, here I come!” He called out but you knew he was going to grab a drink and a snack from the kitchen before he started to look for the kids. 

“I guess next time we’ll keep Hap with us.” Opie teased as you both started to walk inside while the sound of Juice and Happy’s bikes started. You turned to wave goodbye to both of them before looking back at Opie as you made your way into the garage. 

“Nah, he might be insane but he’s good with the kids and having him around actually puts me at ease.” 

“If this is you at ease, I’d hate to see you tense.” Opie teased you again as the garage door closed. 

“Why don’t you and this jelly bean here go look for the kids.” Your arms still crossed as your eyes rolled. 

“You wanna go find Abel, Ellie, and Kenny?” Opie bounced up and down to wake up his daughter. “I’ll give you a popsicle if you find them all.” His voice raised as he incentivized the girl who was suddenly wide awake. 

“Let’s go!!!” She kicked as he placed her down and she hit the ground running. “C’mon Mom, let’s go!!!” She called out to you. 

Opie smirked and threw his arm around you, “yea, let’s go.” 

[cultofdixon]

Only for You

Daryl Dixon • They/Them Pronouns • You’ve always found little trinkets and goodies on your runs by yourself or with others. Everyone noticed you only gifted to one certain archer…when will you just tell him how much you appreciate him? • SFW/Smol Angst • TW: Anxiety / Injuries / Canon Violence

Requested by: Anon

“Daryl!”

The archer turns toward the voice he could listen to forever watching them run over to him just in time before he left to hunt. Y/N smiles handing him two acorns that were attached together by their hats.

“Cool right?”

“Right” Daryl smiles at them holding the gift as they made their way back to the rest of the camp. Why is my heart beating so fast?

•

Daryl couldn’t help the angry tears from flowing when he went to his tent for a moment. A moment to take in that his brother, his only family, was left behind chained to a roof. He flinched to the sound of someone tapping his tent, thinking it was a walker given his tent is out of bounds with the rest of them.

The archer quickly opened it about to plunge his knife into the stranger only to hesitate and relax seeing Y/N.

“Sorry”

“It’s okay, I uh. should’ve known better” Y/N laughs nervously holding a ball of some sorts in their grasp before handing it to him. “Just thought you’d like something to squeeze instead of bashing the new guy’s face in”

“Thanks…” Daryl investigated the item seeing the smile on the yellow ball as he was about to ask Y/N where they found it but they had already went back.

•

When the herd broke through and he wasn’t there to begin with, Daryl’s anxiety for the best of him and the pounding in his ears turned into ringing as he draws closer.

“Watch out!”

Daryl quickly turns around to find the walker approaching him but before he could take it out, a bullet shot past going straight through his head. Making the archer quickly whip around spotting Y/N with their rifle.

“Thank fuck” He approaches them checking their person as they followed his wondering eyes before pressing their hand against his chest.

“I’m fine. Did you find Merle?”

“No, but it’s whatever. He’ll turn up one way or another…” He frowns as his eyes scanned their person once more while they went into their pack real quick. “What are you doing?”

“Found something, wanted to give it to you but clearly we were in a pickle” Y/N states pulling out rock but it wasn’t a plain rock, a shiny one. “Thought you’d like it”

Part of him wanted to question “why a rock” but another made him laugh softly. He took the gift happily feeling how smooth it was and this small moment made him forget about the pain he was feeling about his brother. Made him feel a little better.

When the group decided to head toward the CDC, Daryl packed up his brother’s bike in the truck watching Y/N help the kids get situated before looking around. He jumped at the opportunity and whistled for their attention gesturing to the free seat in his truck.

Now why is my heart beating fast again Daryl thought as the corner of his lips twitch up when they smiled in his direction making their way over taking him up on the offer.

•

The drunken archer stumbled into the room he was sharing with the other single in the group which happened to be Y/N as he noticed them folding something in their lap. His attention was instantly grabbed as he brought himself to sit on the floor resting his head on the couch watching what they were doing in their lap.

“What is that?”

“Origami, I used to do it a lot as a hobby”

“What’s the shape?”

“I made a swan already. Trying to see if I can make a fawn”

“Deer?” Daryl knows what a fawn was, his drink self just wanted to be reassured as Y/N nods.

When the morning came, Daryl woke with a massive headache turning toward his stuff to find a bottle of aspirin and an origami deer that looked like it’s seen better days. But it still got a smile out of the man.

•

Sophia is missing

Carl got shot

Nothing more could go wrong right?

Well.

My fucking head hurts Daryl sighs curling up a bit more in the bed, instinctively covering his body when he heard the door open.

“How are you feeling?” Carol asks while she sets down the tray with his dinner.

“As good as I look…”

“Brought you some dinner…you must be starving” Carol frowns worried for the man that had risked his life to search for her daughter. She leans over to him kissing his temple as a thanks.

“Watch out I got stitches…”

“You need to know something…” Carol waited till the archer looked directly at her. “You did more for my little girl today than her own daddy ever did in his whole life”

“I…I didn’t do anything Rick or Shane wouldn’t have done” He says rolling back over.

“I know” Carol shot him a smile. “You’re every bit as good as them…every bit” and with that she took her leave.

What she said resinated with him, there’s good in him after everything. Once he heard the door click close, Daryl slowly sat up turning toward the food and finding a little trinket on the tray. It looked like one of those monopoly pieces. The ones you play as. But it was a bike. Nothing close to the one he’s got but close enough to have meaning behind it.

Daryl knows it came from them and part of him started to feel better.

•

The months before the prison were cold, stressful, and extremely quiet at times. Rick rose as a leader, naturally. Daryl and Glenn sort of became right hands. Meaning they were always doing what Rick asked for the most part, like leaving the group to hunt or gather in near by houses. The group has been moving a lot since the farm fire.

“Take Maggie and Y/N, Glenn. More hands to carry things” Rick states watching the three bug out as Daryl kept close to the window watching go more into the neighborhood. “Daryl. Let’s go hunting”

“Doubt we’ll get anythin’ good before the winter comes in”

“We’ll get what we can and start eating up some of the cans”

“Like goats?” Daryl jokes knowing what the retired sheriff meant even if he did groan to the response.

Once the two returned they were met with the group organizing a buttload of cans that the three found—-more so Y/N found. There was a house that had a basement, the previous tenants seem to be doomsday preppers. Guess they didn’t live long enough to see an actual form of doomsday.

“Well done” Rick smiles patting Y/N on the back as they handed Lori one of the coats they found that would keep her and the baby extra warm for the winter storm approaching. “We’re thinking of stayin’ put for the winter. So we gotta start barricading in case of any sickos walking through the neighborhood”

It was easier than expected given they were held up in a one-story at the moment. Everybody kept in the living room and dining room for the most part. Hershel did inventory on their food supply while they were held up for the winter just so they could prepare for any shortage. Not likely to happen since Rick gives 2/3rds his portion to Lori and Carl, Hershel did the same with his daughters. They were naturally rationing while the others didn’t finish their meal in a day, tried to keep it lasting for a few.

Daryl kept watch by one of the windows they nailed a few planks to, courtesy of the previous residence’s tool box and dining room table he took apart. He would also glance every now and then to Y/N as they were fiddling with something in their hands. His curiosity almost got the best of him if it weren’t for them getting up and approaching the archer.

They didn’t say anything this time and gave him what looked to be a can opener but in the shape of a beaver and the piercing part was the tail. Weird souvenirs  people would buy. He thought but his smile gave him away that he liked it.

•

The Governor was…a character. We didn’t need to suffer the way that we did before getting the safety that we wanted. The infusion of the new people was quick and awkward having so many strangers. But in order to reach this point…we lost a lot. T-Dog…Lori…and hell, Merle. He was an ass until the very end where he did one good thing for most he thought didn’t deserve it.

So one would think…he did it for him.

Daryl kept to himself since finding out what his brother did and that he had to take him out. He sat outside on one of the benches that wasn’t destroyed by the end of the world.

“Hey”

He looks up to find Y/N carrying something as he thought one of their usual trinkets to gift him. And they did have something but their worry-filled expression said something else.

“Yea need somethin?”

“Uh. You. In a sense…”

The archer scooted over for them to sit beside him. They handed him a picture which wasn’t a trinket or something shiny. Literally the oddest one out of everything Y/N has given him.

“Don’t get mad”

“…where did you find this”

“On Merle. The others may have not wanted him to be buried with T-Dog and Lori but uh. Let’s just keep it between us who the third plot was” Y/N states which lead to Daryl looking up in the direction of where the graves were now knowing who was in the mysterious third one that appeared that night.

The picture found on Merle was an old one of him and Daryl when they were kids.

Daryl felt the tears start coming and his grip on the photo made Y/N worry a bit more than they usual do.

“Why do you do this?”

“Do what?”

“Give me these little things and do something like this…I’m not deserving of any—-“

“Shut up”

That caught him by surprise. Y/N did feel bad after saying such, resulting in a sigh as they fiddled with the bracelet they had on.

“You do a lot for us. Even when we didn’t deserve it in the beginning. Gift giving has always been my “love language” or whatever that is. And it’s the end of the world…there’s not much I can work with and everything I find or made brings me a bit of joy. Thought I’d share that with you…”

The two looked at each other for a moment and something changed.

•

“Is Daryl hovering Y/N?”

“Why?” Rick questions Carol as the two were at the outdoor grill. “Never took Daryl as a hoverer”

“He’s kind of. Following Y/N whenever they are back in the prison.”

“Eh I wouldn’t think too much about it. But Y/N always giving him things? Clearly he’s their favorite”

“Where is this conversation even going?”

Rick shrugs picking up the mulch bucket back up after finishing his lunch and going back to work on the garden. Leaving Carol with her original thought of why he’s so close with them when they don’t talk much.

They do talk. But when no one is around. Daryl likes the privacy as does Y/N.

Daryl was on nightwatch when Y/N came back from their usual runs that happen at night. Everyone thought it was a little weird but they can go by unnoticed since they only carry what they need and light on their feet. He was always the one to wait for them at the gate regardless if on the nightwatch or not.

As the gates pull open, Y/N smiles warmly to the archer turning off their head light that they found in the prison. Daryl instantly brought them into his embrace hearing them sigh, glad to be back.

“What yea find out there?” He parted watching Y/N take their backpack off to show him what they’ve got.

More baby blankets

A few cans of food

Some pills

A notebook [they were gonna take apart for their origami hobby]

But Y/N took the notebook out for a moment, opening it and showing the pressed flowers in it. They offered the flowers to Daryl, making him a bit bashful but his smile from them coming back stuck.

“Thank you”

“Of course” They smile closing their bag and heading toward the prison with him beside them. “No more watch?”

“Nah. Waited for yea to get home before getting back inside”

“Home huh?” They teased the archer who started to get comfortable in this place.

•

The illness passed through, even got a few of their own. Carol went missing during the chaos. Y/N got sick. Daryl felt like he was losing everything but he can do something and that being getting medicine to help their people. Help them.

When his group came back with the medicine, Daryl stayed by Y/N’s side while they slept for a bit. But when they woke it was like they had something to do in that moment.

“You shouldn’t get out of bed”

“Mm already feeling better. ‘Sides, it’s in this room”

Daryl watches them confused when they leaned over the bed, he tried stopping them thinking they were going to fall out but all they did was grab something from under the bed.

“Found it before I passed out in the yards” Y/N returned on their back on the metal bunk before handing him a ring. It was shining in the sun and it caught their attention of course…they knew who they wanted to give it to.

“Yea askin’ or something?”

“Eh. Someday. But I’m giving it to you now cuz I found it, don’t want to lose it, and definitely didn’t want to die before saying it”

“Before saying it?”

“That I appreciate you, more than you think…and that I love you”

•

I should’ve said it back

Why didn’t I say it back

Daryl struggled against the restraints and bitten down on the gag trying to remove it while he, Glenn, Rick, and Bob were on the chopping block.

Then the explosion took Gareth’s attention away, then they managed to get their window. With the help of Rick’s anger. Next was getting their weapons back and then getting the hell out of that cannibal infested sanctuary.

“They weren’t in there…”

“Don’t lose hope, D. I didn’t just save y’all from a hellish situation” Carol states with a smile directing the group to a small shed in the middle of the woods.

Out from the shed came Tyreese carrying Judith, making the Grimes quickly run toward the two. Then Carol shoved Daryl forward which confused the poor man but then a third came out the room. Y/N had stepped out putting their backpack on but keeping mind of their arm in a makeshift sling. The frown on their face after dealing with an asshole and the running from a herd with a dislocated shoulder previous to such…faded the second their eyes locked on Daryl who was already sprinting his way toward them. He didn’t crash right into them seeing their injury from a mile away but it didn’t stop either of them from latching onto the other.

“I love you”

Y/N laughs slightly in his embrace, not surprised by him taking his time telling them. But thank god he said it. The laughing turned into sobbing quickly because they were afraid of never seeing him again. He feared the same.

“I’ve gotcha somethin’” Daryl says while parting from Y/N to reach something in his pocket.

“Really? It’s usually me gifting…you…” Y/N noticed him wearing the ring they gave him before the fall of the prison and when he presented what he found, it was a similar ring but gold unlike his silver. “Now before you put that on me…it doesn’t have a random engraving on it from the previous owner”

“Nah I checked before I picked it up”

“Good. Now hurry the fuck up Dixon” Y/N carefully extended their hand given the one in the sling is the hand he needs. Daryl was extra careful before bringing them back into his arms.

“This don’t mean you gotta stop alright?”

“Oh when we find a place to make up camp, Imma give yea all the things I found while we were apart”

[like-a-bantha]

Lost/Loss

Summary: Everything changed after Eriadu. Hunter becomes withdrawn, and you can't help but worry about him. You do what you can to show him you're there for him.

Pairing: Hunter/GN Reader (No Y/N, no descriptions of reader's appearance)

Rating: T

Warnings: Angst, mentions of major character death

Word Count: 1.7k

AO3 | Masterlist

One week of radio silence. Our contact was supposed to get back to us five days ago with intel on Hemlock and his captives. Instead, we’ve sat around on Pabu tensely awaiting a holocall that we’re beginning to lose hope in receiving.

Phee was kind enough to offer us room in her home, and free reign of her holotable, to act as a sort of base. It’s been quieter since we were last gathered around this table. The usual boisterous laughter and interrupted rants replaced with worried silence broken every so often by a sea breeze that no longer carries the joyous sound of Omega and Lyana playing just outside. That mission, Hemlock, the Empire, took so much from us; it’s taken an incredible amount of effort from Hunter, Wrecker, and I to not allow these forces working against us to take our hope on top of it all.

Echo and Rex referred us to this contact not long ago, someone who they’d worked closely with during the war, someone they trust. I commed Echo. Hunter advised against it, said it wasn’t worth it, that all we could do now was wait. I snuck out to the Marauder to use the long distance com anyways. Of course, the conversation was brief, and he has as much information as we do. Sit tight. Waiting game. All that.

“How’re they holding up?” His voice low, even with the volume adjusted to its highest setting. He’d mentioned returning to Coruscant last time we spoke, it must be the middle of the night there. We always did have terrible sleeping schedules.

“Not well, but I mean…” I trail off, we both know the reason, we both hold some foolish hope that not saying it will make it less true, “They miss you.”

“But you don’t?” There’s that sass, that glint of normalcy I’ve both craved and feared these past two months.

A laugh escapes me as if on instinct, it sounds foreign, “Nah, thought I’d never shake you. So clingy.”

“You’re one to talk, you do realize it’s 0100 here?”

This, our shared brand of humor and sarcasm, too, feels so distant to me now. Slowly, it comes back to me, “Oh, I’m so sorry, did I wake you up? Were you sleeping?” 

“Like a baby.” His warm chuckle crackles through the com speaker, and mine through his. The silence that follows is warm, easing his way into broaching the question, “I take it he’s distancing himself again?”

I sigh, a deep sigh only brought about by reality, “I get it, I really do — and, honestly as bad as it sounds, I wish I didn’t because this kriffing hurts — but withdrawing like this, I don’t know why he can’t see it’s only making the feeling worse.”

“Have you told him that?”

“‘Course. He just says something about how we can’t give up and stares at the holotable. I don’t want to give up, I can’t give up, I just hate seeing him like this.” 

Echo hums, but just as he begins to respond, static and unintelligible voices play loudly through the speaker. “I’m sorry, I’ve gotta go. Good luck.”

I nod, wiping at my misty eyes as I reach for the switch to end the transmission, “Be safe. Talk soon.”

Silence. Mournful, somber silence echoes through the lonely hull of the once lively ship. Everywhere my gaze falls sits a piece of their history, our history; one of Tech’s unfinished projects, a drawing of the ship Omega had called extra credit, Echo’s favorite brand of instant caf. Unable to withstand the weight of these memories, I decide to take my leave and the silence follows me back to the cottage.

I return to a rare sight: an empty house. No Wrecker sitting at the kitchen counter disassembling and reassembling explosives. No Phee asking him to take it outside. No Hunter hovering over the holotable awaiting a call. No com to tell me to hurry back, mustn’t have been an emergency.

I make my way over to the holotable, fingertips gliding across its rounded edge as I approach Hunter’s usual seat. When I pull out the chair, I’m met with a sight that would normally make me laugh. His shredded scarf that he’s grown so attached to, destroyed on our last mission to gather intel, along with his prized bandana that appears to have shrunken in the wash. The best I can muster is a bemused huff, taking the bundle of abused fabric into my arms as I sit. Suddenly, I’m struck with an idea. It could be a very stupid idea, of course, but a very good idea doesn’t always equate to a very smart idea. It’s a perspective thing and seeing as the only perspective available at the moment is my own, I figure I may as well get to it before more perspectives show up.

After careful work, I neatly fold remaining fabric and stash it in my pack with my tools; as the designated mender of the group, I know firsthand there is no such thing as too many fabric patches. Returning to the table, finished product tucked delicately in my vest pocket, approaching voices grow louder and louder.

“I’m telling you, it looks good! Stop fussing, leave it… yeah, like that,” Phee’s voice nears the door, and I’m sure I hear Hunter grumbling about something. The door whooshes open and my eyes widen with surprise. When I meet Phee’s gaze, she seems to silently plead for backup, “You’re back! What do you think?”

She gestures to an unamused Hunter, visibly fighting the urge to fidget with the hat he’s wearing. It doesn’t look bad on him, very few things would, but he doesn’t exactly look comfortable. Unwilling to hold the spotlight any longer, he grabs the floppy brim and removes it from his head, tossing the garment onto the table as he takes the seat next to me. Unable to help myself, I lean forward with a smile and run a hand through his slightly disheveled hair.

“That bad, huh?” Phee sighs, Wrecker following closely behind as she heads for the kitchen.

“I liked it,” The glee still empty from his voice, even at something that would’ve garnered one of his trademark laughs a few months ago.

��Me, too, big guy.” Phee sets a crate of groceries on the countertop. Wrecker’s taken to cooking. Though he’s been much quieter these days, Wrecker seems like himself again when he’s preparing a meal.

Hunter’s gaze is locked on the table, silences between us were never tense like this. When he speaks, he doesn’t look at me. “How’s Echo.”

It isn’t a question, more of a remark, maybe even an I told you so if I really read into it. I answer it like a question anyway, “Good, but no word from the contact.”

He hums. The silence that follows deems the told you so unnecessary.

I reach into my vest pocket. Now’s as good a time as any. “I made you something.”

He hums again, gaze flicking away from the table for half a second in question. Right now, that’s probably the best I’ll get. I place an open palm on the table before him. After a moment's hesitation he rests his hand atop mine, palm up, and I look to his eyes as I delicately drape a band of maroon fabric with thin gold stripes across his fingers.

Hunter’s expression is unreadable, regarding the gift silently. I bite my tongue, attempting to hold in any preemptive apologies in fear that I may have overstepped. My flat expression shifts only when I see his eyes begin to well up, before the first sorry can push past the floodgates he turns to me with the faintest smile. A smile I haven’t seen in too long. His grip tightens around the bandana as he rushes to pull me into a tight hug. Instantly, my arms wrap around him, tears forming in my own eyes. “I love it,” his voice low, he places a kiss on my temple, “thank you.”

“I’m sorry I can’t do more.” My voice comes out a whisper, all of the words I hold back seem louder. “We’re going to get them back, Hunter.”

“Not without a fight.” He says grimly, holding me tighter, as if he’ll lose me the second he lets go.

“I know,” I pull back to look into his eyes, my hand coming up to cup his tattooed cheek, “but we fight as a team. We can’t keep bottling all of this up, we need to take care of each other, ourselves.”

Hunter rests his forehead against mine as he sighs, “You’re right.”

“I know. How’re you feeling?” He shuts his eyes as my thumb gently ghosts back and forth over his cheekbone.

He thinks for a moment before releasing me, opening his palm to look at the bandana in his hand. “Lost,” he turns the garment over, examining the back, “Loss. I couldn’t protect them. You, Wrecker, Phee, you’re all I’ve got now and I’m afraid I won’t be able to protect you either.”

“Tech protected us. Omega, too. I think it’s cruel to put that duty solely on yourself, Hunter. It’s an impossible weight to carry on your own,” A tear falls from my eye, quickly sliding down my cheek before landing on my pant leg, “please, let me carry some.”

“Giving it away doesn’t sound easy, either.” His own tears threaten to spill over, I hope I never get used to the subtle, somber shake in his voice, “But I’d like to try.”

When he looks up with a sad, weary smile, I can’t help but lean forward and place a small kiss to his lips. I begin to withdraw, but Hunter’s palm cups my cheek and pulls me back in for a longer, gentler and tearful kiss. This time, the silence that follows is peaceful as he rests his forehead against mine once more.

His loose hair falls around his face and I accidentally pull a few strands into my mouth as I inhale. He chuckles a bit as I pull away, a sound I’ve missed dearly. I can’t help but let out a small laugh of my own, reaching up to once again run a hand through his curls, “It’s gotten so long.”

Hunter smiles, turning the bandana over once more before presenting it to me, “Do the honors?”

With a smile and a nod, I take the cloth from his grasp, delicately wrapping the fabric around his head and tying a single knot.

“It’s perfect,” He places a soft kiss to my knuckles, taking my hand in his, “thank you.”

The holotable chirps. Incoming transmission.

A/N: Someone pointed out Hunter's hair looks longer, plus the new bandana, I just had to get this out of my system. Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think, comments mean the world to me! <3

[skulla-rxcks]

Because you’re mine.{Chapter 3}

Previous chapter next chapter

Paring: Felix x afab reader

Rating: explicit. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

Genre: smut, mafia au

Warnings: non c0n, g0re, murd£r

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28 @bangchans-gf5 @queenmea604 @salfetkablog @hyunlixs-wife0309

Please dm me if you’d like to be added to the taglist ^^

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

What the hell was that? He just kissed me and.. left.

I collapse onto the bed, maybe I should try sleeping again.

Closing my eyes, I try and sleep but it’s no use it doesn’t work, I’m tired but the kiss Chan gave me is haunting my mind, I hate it but I need to talk to him about it, I need to ask him why.

My hand turns the door knob letting me out of the room. All I need to do now is find his room.

“Chan..?” I call out, trying to find where he is.

“He’s gone out to kill.” A voice responds, it’s one of the guys that was introduced to me during dinner. The guy with blue hair; Felix, I believe. “C-could you get him to come back? It’s.. uh, important.”

“It’s important huh?” He chuckles, a smirk forming in the corner of his mouth. “..well then, tell me instead.” His words cause a shiver inside of me. He’s definitely dangerous, even though he seems nice.

“Please.. it’s very urgent..”

He continues laughing, he walks away leaving me standing there by myself. “Chan..!” I yell out again, hoping he’s near by. I take a couple of steps forward looking around the empty hallway. “Chan.. where are you..” tears run down my face as I collapse on the floor next to one of the exits. a few hours go by and he’s still not back, I decide to go back to the room I was in earlier.

Someone knocks on the door, opening it and looking at me with a strange sense of pride. “you realise he won’t be back so quickly right?” it’s Felix. AGAIN. “p-please just get Chan it’s really.. ‘i-important business’..” I choke out the last word, my tears coming back.

“How about I keep you company while you wait for him?..” Felix snares placing his hand on my inner thigh. “W-what are.. you doing…?” I gasp, shivering as his fingers trail up to my panties, slipping his hand inside before forcing two of his fingers into my tight little cunt. “Making it so you have something, well. Someone to entertain you.” He smirks, pushing me down onto the bed and proceeding to grab a pocket knife out of his jeans.

“N-no stop! You’re hurting me!! No..” I plead to the blue haired man. “I’m not hurting you you. Unless you make a fuss.” He snaps, his grip on the knife getting stronger. The blade runs down my clothes cutting them off of me, damaging some of my skin in the process. “Felix get off of me!” I yell, trying to push him off of me but it’s no use, he’s too strong compared to me, keeping me down on the bed to do whatever he pleases to my naked body. “Shut your fucking mouth you stupid bitch.” He demands, replacing his fingers with the handle of the knife, beginning to thrust the wooden handle of the blade in and out of my pussy.

As soon as he leans down to nibble on my neck I decide to try another method to get him off me; biting. I begin biting the closest part of his skin to me, moans slipping occasionally from my mouth as I attempt to bite the mans skin in an act of self defense.

my bites become more and more aggressive eager to get him off of me. I manage to open one of the draws in the night stand next to me with one of my free hands, fiddling around I grab onto something, praying that it helps me one way or another, I turn my head slightly so I can see what the item is. It’s a hand gun, I’m so fucking lucky this was in here. Now I just hope there’s some bullets in it. While he’s busy eyeing my body I manage to aim the weapon at his head, closing my eyes as I pull the trigger. Boom. His head gets blown off with a bang. I open my eyes and widen them, realising what I’ve just done to him. A man I hardly knew, I just fucking shot.

The site of his head is enough to make my stomach twist, I almost puke at the site. That bullet really did a lot of damage, I can see his nerves, eyes and skull popping out of his bloody flesh, it’s disgusting. I’m disgusting. I Just fucking shot someone, sure it was in self defense but I literally just killed a man!

The others will probably kill me for it, I wouldn’t be surprised. I deserve it for my actions even though he was the one who came onto me in the first place.

“What the fuck happened while I was gone??!” Chan yells, barging into the room and slamming the door behind him. “I.. he..” I can’t get the words out. Fucking fantastic. I just stare blankly at the blood on my hands and the carpet. “What happened to the clothes I gave you..” Chan walks up to me, picking up the cut up clothes of mine and taking a seat next to me. “And more importantly why is his knife inside your cunt?” He looks at me, then looks at the corpse on the floor.

“Did he do this to you..?” He asks. I

don’t answer. “I said did he FUCKING DO THIS TO YOU?” He repeats. Demanding an answer at this point. The words still struggle to get out of my mouth so I just nod, lifting my head up to to look at Chan, tears forming in my eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to kill him it was self defense!” I plead.

“Him being dead is the least of my worries. Seems like that bastard deserved it. Now, tell me the full story.” Chan responds. He’s surprisingly more calm than I expected, even though I just killed one of his ‘members’ if that’s what they’re called. I explain what happened to Chan, somehow he’s not mad at me like I expected him to be. He said I can stay in his room for the night apparently he’ll get one of the boys to clean up Felix’s corpse and guts. In the meantime Chan takes his shirt off and makes me wear it so I at least have some sort of coverage for a while.

[ralfmaximus]

Remember that 737 MAX whose door plug blew out in flight?

A boeing whistleblower created a burner account and reported the following (reproduced here in its entirety in case the original gets deleted):

Current Boeing employee here – I will save you waiting two years for the NTSB report to come out and give it to you for free: the reason the door blew off is stated in black and white in Boeings own records. It is also very, very stupid and speaks volumes about the quality culture at certain portions of the business.

A couple of things to cover before we begin:

Q1) Why should we believe you? A) You shouldn’t, I’m some random throwaway account, do your own due diligence. Others who work at Boeing can verify what I say is true, but all I ask is you consider the following based on its own merits.

Q2) Why are you doing this? A) Because there are many cultures at Boeing, and while the executive culture may be throughly compromised since we were bought by McD, there are many other people who still push for a quality product with cutting edge design. My hope is that this is the wake up call that finally forces the Board to take decisive action, and remove the executives that are resisting the necessary cultural changes to return to a company that values safety and quality above schedule.

With that out of the way… why did the left hand (LH) mid-exit door plug blow off of the 737-9 registered as N704AL? Simple- as has been covered in a number of articles and videos across aviation channels, there are 4 bolts that prevent the mid-exit door plug from sliding up off of the door stop fittings that take the actual pressurization loads in flight, and these 4 bolts were not installed when Boeing delivered the airplane, our own records reflect this.

The mid-exit doors on a 737-9 of both the regular and plug variety come from Spirit already installed in what is supposed to be the final configuration and in the Renton factory, there is a job for the doors team to verify this “final” install and rigging meets drawing requirements. In a healthy production system, this would be a “belt and suspenders” sort of check, but the 737 production system is quite far from healthy, its a rambling, shambling, disaster waiting to happen. As a result, this check job that should find minimal defects has in the past 365 calendar days recorded 392 nonconforming findings on 737 mid fuselage door installations (so both actual doors for the high density configs, and plugs like the one that blew out). That is a hideously high and very alarming number, and if our quality system on 737 was healthy, it would have stopped the line and driven the issue back to supplier after the first few instances. Obviously, this did not happen. Now, on the incident aircraft this check job was completed on 31 August 2023, and did turn up discrepancies, but on the RH side door, not the LH that actually failed. I could blame the team for missing certain details, but given the enormous volume of defects they were already finding and fixing, it was inevitable something would slip through- and on the incident aircraft something did. I know what you are thinking at this point, but grab some popcorn because there is a plot twist coming up.

The next day on 1 September 2023 a different team (remember 737s flow through the factory quite quickly, 24 hours completely changes who is working on the plane) wrote up a finding for damaged and improperly installed rivets on the LH mid-exit door of the incident aircraft.

A brief aside to explain two of the record systems Boeing uses in production. The first is a program called CMES which stands for something boring and unimportant but what is important is that CMES is the sole authoritative repository for airplane build records (except on 787 which uses a different program). If a build record in CMES says something was built, inspected, and stamped in accordance with the drawing, then the airplane damn well better be per drawing. The second is a program called SAT, which also stands for something boring and unimportant but what is important is that SAT is *not* an authoritative records system, its a bullentin board where various things affecting the airplane build get posted about and updated with resolutions. You can think of it sort of like a idiots version of Slack or something. Wise readers will already be shuddering and wondering how many consultants were involved, because, yes SAT is a *management visibilty tool*. Like any good management visibilty tool, SAT can generate metrics, lots of metrics, and oh God do Boeing managers love their metrics. As a result, SAT postings are the primary topic of discussion at most daily status meetings, and the whole system is perceived as being extremely important despite, I reiterate, it holding no actual authority at all.

We now return to our incident aircraft, which was written up for having defective rivets on the LH mid-exit door. Now as is standard practice kn Renton (but not to my knowledge in Everett on wide bodies) this write-up happened in two forms, one in CMES, which is the correct venue, and once in SAT to “coordinate the response” but really as a behind-covering measure so the manager of the team that wrote it can show his boss he’s shoved the problem onto someone else. Because there are so many problems with the Spirit build in the 737, Spirit has teams on site in Renton performing warranty work for all of their shoddy quality, and this SAT promptly gets shunted into their queue as a warranty item. Lots of bickering ensues in the SAT messages, and it takes a bit for Spirit to get to the work package. Once they have finished, they send it back to a Boeing QA for final acceptance, but then Malicious Stupid Happens! The Boeing QA writes another record in CMES (again, the correct venue) stating (with pictures) that Spirit has not actually reworked the discrepant rivets, they *just painted over the defects*. In Boeing production speak, this is a “process failure”. For an A&P mechanic at an airline, this would be called “federal crime”.

Presented with evidence of their malfeasance, Spirit reopens the package and admits that not only did they not rework the rivets properly, there is a damaged pressure seal they need to replace (who damaged it, and when it was damaged is not clear to me). The big deal with this seal, at least according to frantic SAT postings, is the part is not on hand, and will need to be ordered, which is going to impact schedule, and (reading between the lines here) Management is Not Happy. 1/2

2/2

However, more critical for purposes of the accident investigation, the pressure seal is unsurprisingly sandwiched between the plug and the fuselage, and you cannot replace it without opening the door plug to gain access. All of this conversation is documented in increasingly aggressive posts in the SAT, but finally we get to the damning entry which reads something along the lines of “coordinating with the doors team to determine if the door will have to be removed entirely, or just opened. If it is removed then a Removal will have to be written.” Note: a Removal is a type of record in CMES that requires formal sign off from QA that the airplane been restored to drawing requirements.

If you have been paying attention to this situation closely, you may be able to spot the critical error: regardless of whether the door is simply opened or removed entirely, the 4 retaining bolts that keep it from sliding off of the door stops have to be pulled out. A removal should be written in either case for QA to verify install, but as it turns out, someone (exactly who will be a fun question for investigators) decides that the door only needs to be opened, and no formal Removal is generated in CMES (the reason for which is unclear, and a major process failure). Therefore, in the official build records of the airplane, a pressure seal that cannot be accessed without opening the door (and thereby removing retaining bolts) is documented as being replaced, but the door is never officially opened and thus no QA inspection is required. This entire sequence is documented in the SAT, and the nonconformance records in CMES address the damaged rivets and pressure seal, but at no point is the verification job reopened, or is any record of removed retention bolts created, despite it this being a physical impossibility. Finally with Spirit completing their work to Boeing QAs satisfaction, the two rivet-related records in CMES are stamped complete, and the SAT closed on 19 September 2023. No record or comment regarding the retention bolts is made.

I told you it was stupid.

So, where are the bolts? Probably sitting forgotten and unlabeled (because there is no formal record number to label them with) on a work-in-progress bench, unless someone already tossed them in the scrap bin to tidy up.

There’s lots more to be said about the culture that enabled this to happened, but thats the basic details of what happened, the NTSB report will say it in more elegant terms in a few years.

[legendary-guest]

High school sucks, from puberty to petty relationship drama to navigating the cliques - not to mention the teachers! Some so crabby, so lippy, so unfair, so mean that you could swear they were...evil?

Meet Dr. Drew Lipsky and Ms. Shea Go! Other outfits linked here. Lots of text under the cut.

"Mr. Lipsky is my father. You will address me as Dr. Lipsky."

It is difficult to escape Dr. Lipsky on the learning side of the high school ecosystem, he practically runs every class that involves math or science.

Arrogant, grouchy and with a tendency to ramble, Doc runs his classroom with an iron fist and a strict no lip policy. He is seldom seen without his ruler, which he uses to write along the chalkboard with his terrible handwriting, draw diagrams, gesture wildly with and slam on sleeping students' desks to rudely wake them. Despite this unpleasant behaviour, he has obvious favourite students - some of them have gone a long way just by sucking up to him - like not being yelled at and being one of the privileged few that haven't been damned to detention for a minor transgression. He's not just mean, he's also weird.

He likes to show-off the fact that he can draw a perfect circle, free-handed. This impresses a lot of the kids, until it becomes dull - he is workshopping drawing a perfect dodecahedron free-handed (it's not going well). School festivities and similar events, not centred around sport, tend to have him actively organising and participating in them. Always decorates the classroom around Christmas time, becomes unbearably cheery. His love for Snowman Hank is infamous.

Students have figured out an effective method to avoid learning - by getting Dr. Lipsky to talk about himself, or anything that vaguely interests him, he isn't difficult to distract. If he realises what's happening, everyone gets extra homework. If he doesn't and class ends, he seethes about it.

Of course, this means that he's always marking, always busy, a vicious feedback loop. He secretly doesn't mind this, as it keeps him occupied, away from depressing thoughts and crushing loneliness. His job is his social life, but even this is difficult as the only real rapport he has with anyone are the students he rambles to. Well, them and now Ms. Go, whom he carpools with - picking him up and dropping him off 5 days a week, just the two of them. His own car was totalled by Ed, and unable to afford another on a teacher's salary, he'd been catching the bus to and from work. His garage has turned into a workshop, where he tinkers with fixing old computers, building robots, lasers, programming microchips, etc. He really doesn't spend time in his own home.

Drew is dyslexic but doesn't know it - he's found ways to manage this. One of these ways is calling on kids who he knows are in Ms. Go's classes - he always knows them - to help him spell something. “How do you spell it?” “What?” “What do you mean ‘what?’ I know you’re in Miss Go’s AP Literature class, so tell me how to spell it!” “Uh…” [spelling ensues] “That wasn’t so difficult now was it?” “Thanks would be nice” “Detention.” “What?” “I heard you talk back. Detention. I’m old, not deaf.” Unlike Drakken, the subject of his blue skin and scar aren't things he's keen to talk about. He addresses it once at the beginning of every semester to the students to quell rumours and that's it. “Before you all start asking, I’ll tell you. This nasty scar? Lab accident. Blue skin? Lab accident. Is it contagious? No. We’re speaking about injuries, not cooties. So, you know I take lab safety very, very seriously. Gloves, closed shoes and glasses in the lab at all times! Last thing I need is a lawsuit from your parents.” No member of staff, including Ms. Go, know why he is blue.

He is still a college drop-out - his doctorate and teaching certifications are fake. He has never been caught. The inciting incident for dropping out (I have yet to cement whether or not it is the Bebes) has defeated him instead of motivating him. Drew Lipsky is still Drakken, but listless, without real focus or ambition, prone to indifference and depression. As Dr. Lipsky, he is a genuinely good, competent teacher, despite all his faults - the need to explain things, repeatedly, helps him in the profession.

Ms. Go is the hot new English teacher at school! Although she is new to teaching on her own, she is not as naïve as some might think. With her experience as Shego, member of Team Go from Go City, dealing with her brothers and various criminals and villains alike, Ms. Go knows her way around people - the Child Development qualification is merely a bonus.

Staff and students don't know of Ms. Go's hero identity and she goes to great lengths to deceive students that point out her strangely tinted skin - by telling them that it's merely the fluorescent lights in the school that make her appear green, and that, maybe, they should be more focused on what's on the board. Several students have started wearing glasses since her employment. Gaslighting the kids is something she enjoys immensely. Dr. Lipsky has noticed, too, but he doesn't bring it up, accepting her reasoning - for now.

Her attractiveness is no secret, with many a boy harbouring a crush on her, some of the bolder ones hitting on her in class or the hallway. Ms. Go effectively destroys the fragile, male teen ego in a single, creatively worded sentence, leaving a path of bitter, broken hearts (and sometimes tears) behind her. Creative put-downs aren't just reserved for boys that hit on her.

Ms. Go's criteria for her hitlist include: disrupting class, poor enunciation/pronunciation, mumbling, using the wrong words, incorrect/poor grammar, and abuse of teen slang in class.

Anything that isn't a school textbook or notebook that is left behind in Ms. Go's classroom goes missing. Pencils, pens, spare change, personal diaries, MP3 players, CD players, gum (which they shouldn't have anyway!) - gone. Ms. Go picks the room CLEAN as soon as all of them leave - finders keepers! She has an impressive collection, and shares the spoils with Dr. Lipsky. Forgot something in Ms. Go's class? FORGET IT! She gives props to those who can clap back in a creative (grammatically correct, well-spoken) way. For this, she is a very divisive figure, fluctuating between cool-hot-mean-bitchy at all times.

The popular, self-absorbed girls try to emulate Ms. Go, from her mannerisms to her style. She doesn't mind this, and even has some fun in seeing how far she can take it.

Ms. Go runs her classes efficiently and she never assigns extra homework - she doesn't want to mark it. She clocks in at 7am and clocks out at 3:30pm, not a minute before or after.

She has an expensive sports car (I'm thinking a Maserati), which she was able to procure from the Mayor of Go City for her service. Hego was, is, very upset over this. Although she has been out of the hero game for a while, something about the unusually hued Dr. Drew Lipsky had her extend the offer to carpool - just him. Especially after she saw him come to work, late, soaking wet from some surprise torrential rain, snarling and growling and snapping at anyone who so much as looked at him funny - only to be berated by the principal on top of it all.

Her degree in Child Development means that she holds the position of school counsellor. Problem is, no one wants to see her! Who does after hearing all the mean things she says? Her small office is rarely visited, to the point where Dr. Lipsky has moved in with all his stuff, mountains of paper that made his corner of the teacher's lounge very unseemly. Anyone who knocks is met with the Doc's intimidating stature and signature frown.

Ms. Go and Dr. Lipsky sit by themselves in the small office, never in the teacher's lounge. Drew will sometimes stay back and work, catching the bus home, whilst Shea goes home. As they get closer, Ms. Go will sometimes just go for a few hours and return to the school to take the Doc home. Although it seems like she's got it all, at the end of the day, she still goes home to her apartment - alone. Used to being surrounded by her family, as annoying as they are, used to the excitement and rush of hero work, and no longer actively using her powers, Shea is not too sure what to make of normal, civilian life. Especially after hers has been anything but. Partying, clubbing and shopping on the weekends are fun, but the prospect of socialising with others, finding interests that aren't focused on her career is daunting, if not a little frightening, if she were honest with herself. Shego, as Ms. Go, still calls him Dr. D (for 'Drew', she says the alliteration makes it fun to say) and Doc. Drew Lipsky for when she really wants to annoy him.

Drew/Drakken having dyslexia, Drew/Drakken taking the bus and the name Shea for Shego's real name are all lifted from Dwelling by @gogofordrakgo. The AU has been stewing for a very long time, almost as long as I have been reviewing. All elements lifted have been credited. I see several paths for it.

A 'Normal' AU where they exist within the KP world but never become villains, and don't teach at Middleton High School.

An Origin Story of how Drakken and Shego met teaching at some high school and then getting into villainy together.

An AU where they are teachers at Middleton High School and Kim and Ron are students there, still saving the world. They still play an antagonistic role, Drakken more than Shego, with Shego empathising with Kim without breaking her Shego-ness and becoming too nice, still distance between them. Ron would also be Shego's one-and-only student that she sees as a counsellor. Their sessions consist of having him accompany her to the mall - retail therapy. In this version of the AU, the recurring villains would be The Seniors. Senior Sr. is a big name supervillain looking to retire and is training his spoiled, sheltered son Senior Jr. to take up the mantle, but all he's interested in is becoming a teen-pop sensation, even though he learns quickly and can take on KP. Senior Sr. finds Kim Possible, not only a worthy adversary, but the ideal match for his son! He is the number one Kim x Junior shipper. (500k slow-burn, enemies to lovers epic fanfic, babies ever after - 7 for all 7 continents - 4 girls and 3 boys - evil-and-in-love - he's planned Junior's entire life for him, he can't wait to retire!). Dr. Lipsky and Ms. Go become villains at the end, becoming Dr. Drakken and Shego, the new villainous couple looking to rule the world and taking the place of Senor Senior Sr. and Senor Senior Jr.

Alternative to the last where it's all the same but they don't become villains. Maybe they try for a bit and after having their fun, they settle down to have a family. I dunno!

Now, is there more to come? YES! MAYBE! We'll see how I am feeling. Why did I do it this way and not write something properly? Because I don't like writing or plotting multi-chapter fanfic. I really wanted to make something that I could write for in this very casual way, and, if anyone else wanted to write or draw for this, that it would be possible.

Teacher AU is such a strong concept for the characters as they are, I wanted to really have it be true to them, as we see and know them in the show. I didn't want huge differences in their backstories, interests, mannerisms or relationships with other characters, because all those things inform who they are. I love that Drakken is a scatter-brained, easily-offended, easily distracted grouch and that Shego is such an annoying, snarky woman, a staunch grammarian and runner-up for professional slacker (Ron takes the number one spot). I wanted to challenge myself with this and I hope that I have been successful with it, at least initially.