#kicked in the gut by me n the charismas.

[yumenosakiacademy]

the thing w naka is hes not all tht attractive in canon n no1 draws him hot so i cant see him as fuckable/able 2 fuck. im capable of thinking tht TORA would want 2 bang him but i cannot see his vision. naka is no dilf ossan hes a Dumbass Fuckass Old Man.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

friends? no.

© @sonsofeorl

HANK ‘TRANQ’ LOZA.

MAYANS MC ┃ USEFUL LINKS

❝ request by @queenbeered: Dear Aurora, you gorgeous, amazing queen. I absolutely love your prompts list, so many fun ideas and I can't wait to see what you come up with. Can I please request number one on your smut list with Hank? Need some big guy in my life. 😘😘😘

❝ prompt: “Friends? No, I don’t think so. Friends don’t know the way you taste”.

❝ words: about 1.2k.

❝ warnings: nsfw, unprotected sex, mention of bodily fluids, language.

❝ a / n: as always, don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it!

“Friends?”

Tranq hasn't given you a chance to welcome him when his question has been launched as soon as you've opened the front door of your house. He has a shoulder rested against the frame, frowning. His chest falls and rises a little bit furious, breathing through his nostrils as he glances at you. Needing a couple of seconds to figure out what he is talking about, you tilt your head like a confused dog, sticking out the spoon stained with ice cream from your mouth.

“You told Mariela we are friends?”

“Oh, oh… oh”. Now you get it. “Aren't we?”

“Friends? No, I don’t think so. Friends don’t know the way you taste”.

Hank comes in without needing an invitation, grabbing the spoon to throw it somewhere and kicking the door close. He's angry. He's going to put it on you and you aren't going to complain. Briefly squatting, he places his huge and strong hands around the back of your thighs, to push you onto his body. Tranq collides his lips on yours, invading your mouth with his playful and keen tongue, drinking a raspy gasp that borns in your throat.

Yes, you told that girl that you were only friends because you weren't anything else than relief for each other in the small hours. You've been in love with him ever since —I mean, how couldn't you? You let him enter your life, you helped him whenever he needed it, but you weren't expecting him to have the same sentiments. Apparently, you have been wrong the whole time.

The Mexican sits on your sofa keeping you on your lap, as his hands squeeze your ass with so much desire contained about to show you what's the real thing between the two of you. “Stopped being friends the first time you moaned my name, sweetheart”.

Hank is so hard under the rough fabric of his jeans that the friction is causing your brain to collapse. He is forcing you to swing your hips, needing to hear those sweets noises you can't control anytime he gives you all his attention. Commonly, he's the lovable man on earth. He worships you —your body—, he takes his time, he pushes your limits with so much tenderness that you can't live without him anymore. But your insecurities have killed you anytime you've compared yourself with Mariela. An exuberant woman with charisma and power beaming. How could you compete against her?

The metallic noise his belt being undone provokes brings you back to reality. The sweetest melody on earth. Pulling yourself away with a lack of oxygen more than evident, you stand up on your bare feet to strip yourself. It doesn't take you too long, at all times under his lustful dark gaze, watching you toss your t-shirt somewhere and pull your panties down by your thighs. Tranq only rolls his jeans and boxers to his ankles; he knows about that kink you have of being fully naked for him while he's still on that leather kutte you love.

“Com'ere”. He demands whilst pumping himself with his right hand, using the left to grab your wrist and push you on top of him.

You can't help but giggle in a low tone, cutting off your laughs with an unexpected deep thrust. He has pressed your body down, practically impaling you with all his length. And he is big. He's too big. You normally need a couple of seconds to adjust your walls to his hard dick, but this time Hank is mad, very mad at you. The bitter sensation he has been carrying the whole day from one side to another because you said you are only friends, has made him feel angrier as the time has passed by till meeting you again.

He doesn't let you breathe. He doesn't let you mold your soaked pussy to his thickness. He forces you to swing your hips back and forth, dancing and bouncing over his cock. His huge fingers are nailed in your skin as he has reclined his back on the sofa, having a better view of your breasts jumping slightly with every move. Tranq loves every inch of your body, but these two are his favorite part. He could spend hours sleeping on them —or sucking, biting, licking, playing with them.

As his chest falls and rises breathless, his grunts fill your living room creating a filthy song with your moan and your pleas. Putting your hands on both sides of his neck, leaning forward a little, you devour his lips as the pace becomes faster and deeper. There's no man who can make you feel this good, this fill, this satisfied. There's no man who can give you the pleasure Tranq gives you. You both know it. And there's no man who can treat you better than him —with so much carelessness, love and adoration.

You know you won't last for too long as every pound is well-aimed to your g-spot, making you cry out his name whenever he forces you to go more downward. He knows exactly what he's doing. Giving you a lesson. Making you desire him more and more, so you won't dare again in your life to say that you're only friends.

And before you can react, Tranq has turned your bodies in such a master move, pinning your back to the sofa without pulling himself out from you. Now, he's between your legs, buried deep inside you as much as he can. A hand pulling your hair, five fingers gripping your throat, a tongue invading your mouth and his twitching huge cock splitting your tight cunt in two. Your eyes are rolled to the back of your head, while Tranq continues drinking your begs asking for more, and more, and more.

You're closer than you think of cumming, not needing anything else in life right now. And as his pushes become rougher, hitting your guts with no mercy, you let yourself go with a loud and pleased whining.

“Shit… that's it, preciosa… cream my dick… c'mon”. Hank grunts onto your ear, not stopping until he can release his own seed straight to your soul.

You feel filled by a warm sensation, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him down; inside you, deeper. That's the best sensation after a quickly with him. Spend some more seconds with Tranq balls-buried into you, with all his weight over your body as he tries to catch back his breathing. Then, the soft mood comes back. He's not annoyed anymore, although he's still not understanding why you said what you said. Hank spreads sloppy kisses all around your face, tiredly stroking the sides of your thighs while he goes just a little more deeper causing you to moan against his neck.

“You feel it, ah?” He whispers huskily, caressing your ear with the tip of his nose. “This dick is only yours… Can you feel it, mi amor?”

You nod your head exhausted, tightening the grip around his waist. You want him closer. You want to melt your bodies into the same anatomy. You need him all the time; physical and psychologically. It's something that you can't explain, but you can't get rid of either.

“Good… Don't make me explain it twice”.

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @Jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17 @skits90s @wildsould1221 @littlekittymeow

MAYANS MC: @multiyfandomgirl40 @countryash345 @skyofficialxx @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo @bellisperennis0 @chibsytelford @trulysuccubus @purrrrfect @witching-hour @leathercladmenfics @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @gemini0410 @pinguinstudiert @oscars-wifeyyy @meteora-fc @lozaa94 @arveeee @joupym @hanster1998 @missswritings @arana-alpha @lucillewinchester @theocatkov @telfordlowmans @tclaerh @aurelie-celine

[lovelytarou]

just let me adore you

— in which dabi wanted to buy you clothes and see you in only the best cloths there is in the world, the only problem is how you see yourself and he will do anything to prove how much he adores you

pairing: dabi x female!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst if you squint, suggestive

tags: hurt/comfort??, the reader's insecurities (nothing too detailed), negative thoughts, i advise not to read this if you don't want any of that

a/n: i'm so excited to post this that i just can't wait another day!!! also pls give feedback i spent all my love and time in this instead of schoolworks sksksk but really, i hope y'all like this and i'm sorry if i made dabi too soft in this, the fandom needs more soft dabi every once in a while. sorry if i'm putting my inner dabi fuckr in this fic 🤧

“what are you wearing?” dabi asked one night after you emerged from the shower.

you saw him lounging in your shared bedroom, waiting for you as he was scrolling on his phone when you arrived from work. you quickly excused yourself and took a shower with a promise of cuddling with him afterwards.

snaking your arms on his neck, you gave a peck on his cheek and grinned.

“it's one of my old shirts, why?” you frowned, looking down at your clothes.

dabi wrapped his arm on your waist, holding you closer to his body as you sit on his lap. his other hand reached up to your face and tucked your still damp hair behind your ear.

“it looks like shit,” he bluntly admitted while looking in your eyes fondly.

that earned an offended gasp from you as you attempted to wiggle out of his grip but to no avail. dabi may not look like it, but he sure is one muscular guy.

“well, i'm sorry if i don't have such expensive tastes when it comes to casual clothing!” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. the action itself made dabi look down on your breasts and bit his lip.

if only you can see how he sees you right now.

“exactly. you only deserve to wear the finest silk,” his hand travels down your exposed thighs, slightly lifting up the oversized shirt in the process.

“the most exquisite lace that shows off your boobs and your delicious curves,” his voice dropped into a sultry tone, his wandering hands squeezing your sides making you smack him playfully on his chest.

“stop it!” you hid your face on his neck, his jaw resting on the top of your head.

“what? it's true.” he chuckles, kissing your hair.

he brought his index finger under your chin so you can meet his eyes. there is nothing but love and adoration swimming in those beautiful teal irises.

“i love seeing you in fancy clothes, but...” his warm breath that faintly smelled of smoke and mint that makes your head spin fanned your face, his lips ghosting over yours in a gentle dance.

as if the world turned upside down, you're now on your back as dabi towered over you, “you're even gorgeous when naked,”

his lips sealed over yours again and again. that night, he threw your old shirt where it could not be seen anymore and you were more than thankful for it as you spent the entire night making love.

the next few days, dabi made it his mission to buy (read: steal) clothes for you. in the morning after hours of rearranging your guts, dabi basically threw away all of your clothes in the trash and made you wear his shirts. you almost wringed his neck because of that but you let it slide when he told you that he'd replace them with better ones.

back at the league of villains hideout, dabi eyed all of the people gathered around the room. shigaraki's currently holding a meeting for their next attack and here he is, imagining you in the most beautiful outfit he'd get for you.

his teal eyes landed on the back of himiko's blonde head.

heaving a heavy sigh, he kicked toga's seat.

“hey, nutjob” he called lowly, not wanting to get the others' attention.

she scoffed at the nickname before turning her body towards him.

“what is it, staples? do you need something?” she cocked an eyebrow at him, playing with her knife in boredom.

“yeah. you like...cute things, right?” dabi inwardly cringed at his choice of words. never ever in his life did he imagine he would say such things to someone and worst of all, he needed her help.

toga chuckled lightly at him, noticing the small blush on dabi's face.

“oh? what's this all of a sudden? are you taking a liking to me now?” toga's smirk widened upon seeing the latter's growing annoyance.

“in your dreams,” dabi grumbled, “i needed help with something.”

pinching the bridge of his nose, dabi closed his eyes and cursed at himself. after this conversation, his colleague would definitely find something to tease him for. but then again, he's willing to look like a fool if it's for you.

after the boring meeting that lasted for approximately four hours, dabi and toga exited the hideout to raid a few malls.

“i don't understand why you didn't just choose the clothes yourself?” toga hummed, examining a cute top with cat prints on it.

she placed it over her front and modeled it in the mirror before her, posing this way and that. from the corner of her eye, she sees dabi leaning against the wall, arms crossed with a bored look on his face.

“don't you think i wouldn't ask for your help if i can do that?” dabi rolled his eyes in exhaustion, this is taking too much time. the two of them have been in twenty shops already and raided five malls in only half a day.

toga poked her tongue at him and clutched the cute top along with the other clothing. she pushed them all into dabi's arms, making him drop most of it on the floor.

she suddenly stopped and gasped as they exited the store, the neon pink lights reflecting on her eyes as she squealed in delight.

without warning, toga dragged dabi into the lingerie store.

upon entering, the cashier immediately cowered under the counter as the two villains surveyed the place. the person was about to reach for the telephone when toga stabbed the glass counter near their hand.

“don't even think about it,” she grinned down at them menacingly.

dabi ignored them as he looked around. it's filled with many lingeries that he doesn't know which one to look at first. there is no doubt that anyone would love to see their lover dressed in those promiscuous outfits.

his thoughts immediately wandered over to you, dressed in black lace set, writhing under him and making pretty noises just for him.

before his lewd thoughts could wander, he called toga over and nodded his head at the item of clothing he's been eyeing.

“i want that one.”

the first thing you noticed upon coming home was that it's empty. the mugs that was left in the sink that morning was still where you last saw them, the unfolded laundry is still in the basket, and the television in the living room is off.

dabi must not be home yet.

you let a small frown form on your face. you had expected to come home to your beloved boyfriend and welcome you with open arms and kisses.

today wasn't the best of days, to say the least. the series of bad things after another drove you mad and all you wanted was to go home and be wrapped in your lover's hug as if the two of you are the only people in the world that exists.

taking your shoes off, you padded towards your shared bedroom and slowly took off your work clothes and sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh.

rubbing your arms, you caught sight of yourself in the body length mirror at the corner.

your gaze lingered for a long while, eyeing every expanse of skin exposed. you chewed on your lip anxiously as you made your way to the mirror.

your mind was clouded with negative thoughts and jabs at yourself. this is the reason why you hated being alone, you are left with nothing but hate at yourself and there's nobody to pull you out of it. you are suffering by yourself and having to push through it.

slowly, you unwrapped your arms from your sides and stared at the body in front of you. staring from head to toe, listing each thing that you find a flaw, an insecurity, an imperfection.

what did dabi see in you?

you don't have the most attractive body that rivalled any pro-hero's, or a killer charisma, a beautiful face that could take anyone's breath away, your skin isn't as clear as the ones the models in tv and magazines have, you have a lot of scars from childhood and growing up, there are uneven skin color, a wound, and your hair isn't as pretty as other girls'.

so, why? why did dabi stayed? why did he, a handsome, powerful, strong, smart man, asked you to be his girlfriend when he could have anyone he wanted in the world that is much better than you?

tears streamed down your face as your body was wracked with sobs. slowly sliding down to the floor, you clutched your chest as you felt an excruciating agony. repeating over and over in your head why dabi doesn't love you.

through your tears and cry of pain, you didn't hear the door open and close. nor the sound of your boyfriend's voice calling to you or the door to the bedroom opening and the sound of numerous shopping bags falling to the ground as dabi takes hurried steps towards you, who is reduced to a ball of sadness on the floor.

“baby? what's wrong? why are you crying?” he didn't get too close to you at first, expecting you might not want any sort of contact at your moment of vulnerability and decided to ask you instead.

you're still trembling as small sobs leave your lips.

you gasped, shocked to hear that he's home as you quickly sat up and sloppily wiped your tears with your hands and arms.

“d-dabi! you're home!” you sniffled, doing your best to look alright although it's futile since he has already seen you crying your eyes out.

your boyfriend can only look at you with concern filling his eyes. he hovered his hand in midair between the two of you as he looked at your eyes intently. you answered him wordlessly by leaning towards his touch.

it evoked a sigh of relief from your lips as you felt his charred and normal skin, clutching his arm like your life depended on it. and maybe at that moment, it did.

he's relieved to know that he's not who you were upset about, but it didn't lessen his worry.

dabi leaned down to kiss your temple, his lips lingering there as he brought your face close to his chest.

“tell me what's got my baby so upset,” he mumbled against the skin. hearing the deep rumble of his voice against his chest calmed you down a bit.

you closed your eyes as you exhaled, surrounding yourself with dabi. his scent, his touch, the feeling of his heart beating against your ear, his lulling voice pulling you out of your waning thoughts.

“it's...stupid,” you laughed breathily, shaking your head.

“nothing about you is stupid, angel.” he immediately rebutted, pinching your waist.

you hid your face in his chest, not wanting him to see you like this. vulnerable and weak.

“i-i was just having a bad day, and all i want was to come home to you and...” you paused, your thoughts suddenly coming back to you. you fought a sob that threatened to spill from your lips, biting it down.

“i don't understand what you see in me,” you whispered, voice cracking at the end.

he shushed you softly, stroking your hair and rubbing your lower back in circles.

never in his life had he seen you so down. you seemed like the type of person who always got their shit together. like nothing wrong ever happens in their life. he'll look at you and all he sees is this amazing woman who loves to smile and bring happiness in his miserable life.

he admits that he may not be the best boyfriend in the world, but damn it if he didn't even make you happy every second of every day of your life like you did in his.

seeing you so upset makes him want to go out there and find whatever that will make you smile again.

“i'm sorry i'm not home to comfort you, baby. but i'm here now, okay? i don't like seeing you cry, pretty girl.” he muttered, facing your head up to him as he pecked your tears away.

you softly giggled at the nickname.

“you wanna know what i saw in you?” he asked, and you nodded your head at him.

his lips fluttered over your forehead, giving you a kiss there, “you're the most amazing person i've ever met–” another kiss on your nose, “the most beautiful, sweet, caring–” a kiss on your eyelids, the apples of your cheeks, “you're so fucking hot and kind that i didn't know what i did in my fucked up life to deserve you.”

he cupped both of your cheeks in his hands and made you look into his eyes. there's still the same adoration and love in them, it made your heart swell with many emotions just for him. only he can make your heart beat wildly inside your chest.

not letting him say another word, you surged forward and crashed your lips to his in a deep, passionate kiss. a few tears escaped, but this time it's because of happiness and the overwhelming love he have for you.

you were both panting when you pulled away, grinning stupidly as your foreheads touch, staring lovingly into each other's eyes.

“i love you, d'you know that?” you breathed out, pecking his lips once more.

“yeah, i know.” dabi smirked, wrapping his arms around you and picking you up. your legs wrapped around his slim waist in return.

he threw the both of you on the bed, you on his lap as he stared up at you with a lovestruck look in his eyes.

“say it back!” you whined, pouting playfully at him.

he pecked your lips this time and tugged softly on your bottom lip, making you moan.

slowly, you felt him lower you down on the mattress as he placed open-mouthed kisses from your jaw to your neck. the fire ignited inside your core as you gripped his biceps, the way his lips are doing things to you, you can't help but just lay there accept all he had to offer.

“mmm, i love you, too. but i wanted to show you how much instead,” he whispered lowly in your ear before biting at your sweet spot and creating a mark for everyone to see.

his lips traveled lower to where you needed him the most, gripping his hair as you sang beautiful songs for him.

“y/n! are you done, yet?” dabi asked for the umpteenth time that day as he waited for you to come out of your shared bedroom.

you both decided to go on a date and it's been two hours since you told him that you're ‘almost done’. he's been waiting patiently for you, knowing that you'd come out of that room and take his breath away. hell, you can wear the dirtiest rags and he'd still think you're the most beautiful girl he has ever seen.

“just one sec!” you called out from inside.

he couldn't help but groan in annoyance, his patience wearing thin.

he glanced at the time on his phone.

how long are you gonna be in there for?

“babe, i swear if you don't come out of there after five minutes, i'll leave without y-”

he didn't get to finish his words as you came out of the bedroom wearing only the skimpiest, thinnest, and revealing lingerie that left nothing to imagination.

he found himself swallowing his words as his gaze hungrily drank your figure up and down, focusing on every detail, every skin exposed to his eyes.

you decided to tease him, wearing only the lingerie he had ‘bought’ you a few days ago. you were surprised when he did admit he had bought the clothes for you. when asked when he got the money from, he only said that he stole it from some ‘abusive bastard's credit card’.

you shyly standing there wearing a sexy outfit did nothing to his raging problem. within seconds, he stood in front of you, staring at you like you were some sort of goddess that graced the earth and he'd happily kiss the ground you walk on.

“did you...like it?” you hesitantly asked, looking up at him as you played with the ribbons of the lace hugging your body.

his pupils dilated, eyes darkening with want and he picked you up as you squealed in surprise, carrying you back to the bedroom.

“that's it, the date can wait another day.”

[thebibliomancer]

Archaia’s Jim Henson’s The Dark Crystal Age of Resistance #11

The Journey into the Mondo Levidian Part 3

Y’know, the title page says “Mondo Levidian” but its spelled more like Mondo Leviadin inside the book. Vexing.

Maybe we haven’t even reached the Mondo Levidian yet and Mayrin and Kam’Lu are going to get swallowed by an even BIGGER monster!

Only time will tell!

In part one, newly All-Maudra’d Mayrin deals with a Sifan separatist crisis but also plenty of unresolved mother-induced insecurity issues. She charters a ride with Captain Kam’Lu to speak to the separatist leader Fenth but a sea monster sinks the ship.

In part two, Mayrin and Kam’Lu are adrift at sea on a raft following the sinking but then they get eaten by a sea monster. The two meet the monster gut dwelling Boblings and learn that they have a limited time before the Mondo Levidian returns to the deeps and then there’ll be no escape for a year. With the Bobling King’s daughter Gunda, the two set off on a journey out of the Mondo Levidian.

Hm. Maybe the book should have been called Escape from the Mondo Levidian? They’ve only just Journey’d into and now they’re trying to leave.

But let’s get started!

Gunda takes Mayrin and Kam’Lu to the Gateway of the Toothrakes.

Gunda: “This is the fastest path to the porticol from Bajula. We’ll keep our pincers ready and our goo shields steady.”

Mayrin: “What if we don’t have goo shields?”

Gunda: “Then Thra have mercy on you.”

Goo sure is popular among Boblings.

She explains that everything that the Mondo Levidian swallows that the Boblings don’t take ends up here, making it a wasteland of forgotten things, living and dead.

In a brief scene in Ha’rar, Mayrin’s advisors discuss whether they should go on without the All-Maudra when Fenth shows up demanding that the meeting about Sifan autonomy will be now, with or without an All-Maudra.

Fenth: “There will be no Vapran victory. There will be no moment of false unity. What we want is undeliverable by Vapran hands -- only by ours! So which of you -- the All-Maudra’s most trusted and loyal advisors -- will take her place in these dire times? A Vapran of courage? Of strategy? Of... decorations?”

Dot: “Don’t you dare touch that, Fenth! Those decorations belong to All-Maudra Mayrin!”

HOLY GEEZ DOT

Dot: -sees Fenth touching her throne decorations- ‘I see you’ve chosen death’

She apparently came right here from surviving the shipwreck because she’s still soaking wet and full of just-survived-shipwreck energy.

Dot also declares she’ll be the Vapran representative.

I’m glad she survived the shipwreck because she’s a delight.

Back in the Mondo Levidian, Mayrin and Kam’Lu become Officially Friends when she abbreviates his name.

Kam’Lu: “You... you called me ‘Lu. Only my friends call me that... but we’re not...?”

Mayrin: “After everything we’ve been through, ‘Lu, of course we’re friends.”

Kam’Lu: “Friends -- hehe -- with the All-Maudra! Today keeps getting weirder.”

AND THEN A ZOA ATTACKS

Turns out that its not just Gelfing and Podlings that are ridiculously adaptable.

Some Arathim that were gobbled up by the Levidian also adapted. They lost the hive mind and gained some crustacean aesthetic.

The three fight the Zoa, having to toss Gunda’s goo shield (its a shield with goo on it) and sword around during the fight. They defeat the spider-crab-monster but Kam’Lu gets his leg hurt pushing Mayrin out of the way of the Zoa during the fight.

Its a wound that requires thorough cleansing because Zoa apparently implant their spawn in wounds so its clean the injury with fermented levidian digestive acids or be eaten from the inside out by little baby Zoa.

And then after Kam’Lu screams that the acid burns (he’s doing a good job still being the butt monkey) Gunda takes a belt of the acids as, I dunno, a power move.

They move past the toothrakes and towards the porticol which is where the Zoa decided they live now. So Gunda comes up with a plan (drawing it out in the Levidian’s inside meat?? I know that the scale is so small that the Levidian is going to barely notice but eeuch) to sneak through tunnels to a derelict ship and hopefully not run into a Necrizoa.

Mayrin: “What is the Necrizoa?”

Gunda: “If it is necessary to know, we’re already dead.”

From the derelict ship, there will just be a vertical climb to the porticol.

But Mayrin is surprised when they reach the derelict ship.

Mayrin: “The Hope of Thra?! That was... that was one of my mother’s ships! One of our fleet! I rode on this ship as a childling!”

Gunda: “Shush, you fool. Sneaky time begins now!”

Mayrin: “Right. Sorry.”

Being in her mother’s old ship, seeing her own old rooms, is bringing back a lot of mom-related angsts for Mayrin.

Kam’Lu: “Were you close with the... your mother?”

Mayrin: “It’s hard to say. It always felt like close was too close. I... I... never had an opportunity to tell her how I felt.”

Kam’Lu: “And how did you feel...?”

Mayrin: “Angry. I was angry at her. It felt like she was always preparing me for some grand responsibility. She never let me just figure things out. But... maybe that was for the best. Look where I got us.”

Kam’Lu has taken a kind of holistic view to getting swallowed by a sea monster and tells her that she’s taken him to things he’s never seen or imagined.

For example: a Zoa wearing clothes.

THE FANCIEST ZOA

Its wearing the previous All-Maudra’s clothes from a derelict ship inside a giant sea monster’s respiratory tract. What an odd encounter!

Thanks to Gunda expelling goo (so they farm it AND blrrrrrb it up?), the three gutventurers outrun a whole swam of Zoa and reach the porticol!

But it’s closing (clenching?) earlier than estimated! And the Zoa are right behind them!

Earlier, Mayrin had asked Kam’Lu to deliver her message of Gelfling unity if she didn’t make it and he played it off as a joke.

Now, with his leg hurt and the porticol clenching, Kam’Lu tells Mayrin she’ll have to go on without him. He won’t be able to make the climb and she won’t be able to carry all of them on wet wings.

Kam’Lu: “Your life is worth more than mine! My All-Maudra survives at all costs! Fly! Get to the porticol! Save yourself, Mayrin!”

He’s really turned around on her!

Kam’Lu and Gunda face the oncoming Zoa swarm as Mayrin tears up and has one of those internal mom monologues that she has sometimes.

Mayrin: “Mother, it seems you have found me here at the ends of the world. Found me how you always found me. Unsure. Scared. Weak. It’s so beautiful, the big whole heart of everything. You brought it to me -- strangely, here, in this place. And even as we are under siege, in the darkness of Thra, where even the light of the three suns has lost us, you’re here with me. Bringing light. I must be strong, mother. I must be stronger than you.”

Where’s Mayrin’s Stronger Than You song parody??

The Zoa fly after because why wouldn’t Arathim adapted to live in a sea monster’s guts develop wings?

But with one more ‘I’ll show you, mom!’ flashback, Mayrin finds the strength to reach the porticol juuust before it closes. Gunda drops off because she lives in here.

Gunda: “Farewell Gelfling! We hope you enjoyed your matrimonial cabal journey! Come back soooooooon!”

A consummate tourism professional to the last.

Mayrin and Kam’Lu stand atop the Mondo Levidian, seeing things that aren’t sea monster guts once again!

Aww, frens.

Also, the Zoa are still coming but that’s next issue’s problem.

So it was a little abrupt considering they started off very much at odds, so much so that Mayrin was going to sit in her quarters the whole time rather than deal with him. But nothing like the crucible of a sea monster gut to fast track a friendship and LIFELONG DEVOTION.

In fairness, it started all the way back at the beginning of the second issue, where Kam’Lu was briefly stunned by her charisma on the raft. And then slightly delayed because the universe conspired to make him the butt of every joke.

But by example and not word, Mayrin has convinced him of Gelfling unity. Also, she flew a thing without crashing, so she beat her mom-shaped personal arc too.

Things are going well and will surely continue to be well next issue.

Which will presumably be twenty pages of Dot kicking Fenth’s butt in debate club. A shipwreck didn’t stop her and neither will rhetoric.

[backandimbamon]

part III

a/n: ive been sitting on this chapter for weeks. being a perfectionist...will do things to you. enjoy and please leave a reply!

Perhaps something happened on the other side between Damon and Bonnie.

Perhaps something happened between them that shattered the defenses, the bickering, the banter, the tension... maybe it was all too much to handle and one day they decided to resolve it in a new way that was less stressful and more natural.

What if they finally focused their vision on the situation and realized it was demented, downright unfair, to trap a handsome sex pot of a vampire and a stunning little witch with magically delicious blood together forever, the last two on earth, and swear them to a platonic relationship?

A kiss? Or sex? Caroline is full Sherlock Holmes, investigator style because there is no possible way that the dynamic between Bonnie and Damon remained the same after such a...dynamic...event occurred to both of them simultaneously. She has a hunch.

But a kiss? Sex? She knows she’s jumping the gun. As much as she can project, the denial between them both would prevent such forward actions. But-

It makes sense, she thinks, perfect sense. If they decided to break that forbidden rule, are they truly to blame? She’s sure she isn’t the only one who could physically see the sexual tension brewing between the vampire and the witch since their first formal introduction. Throughout the years, it’s only increased in intensity and anyone with decent deductive reasoning skills could predict that maybe, just maybe, there was a hiccup in those roles they played so dutifully. They “hated” each other. Sure.

Being the last two on a repeating day, desperation settling, solitude dancing, they’re under the radar... anything could happen. As if on queue, her mind begins to sift through the possibilities again. She always had a knack for probability.

A bite... now that is highly likely.

Caroline can imagine Bonnie being her normal selfless, sacrificial self, asking Damon if he’s okay- it seems like he’s tired or beat since he’s been slack on their banter, his comebacks lackluster and falling flat. He lies because lying is as effortless as breathing to Damon and he politely but solidly asks Bonnie not to worry about him, that he just misses home so his mood is sour.

He tries to maintain his normal devil-may-care, overly nonchalant, effortlessly sexy character with the huge ego but it’s not quite the same. He’s not as clever and though he’s close, he’s not close enough.

She observes this.

Bonnie picks at him, rapid question-asking all while being inquisitive and selfless and caring and healing, she tells him she knows him better than he knows himself. She says she can feel when he lies.

Damon probably experiences a foreign emotion at this point, wondering why his undead heart seems as though it’s hammering, beatboxing against his bones, threatening to reveal what he wants to hide so bad.

He’s hungry.

And he’s never felt a hunger quite like this. He’s emptied every single blood bag in the freezer, still there’s this nagging sensation that no matter how much blood he consumes, even if he decides to bathe in it, if it’s not what he really wants to devour, he will never be satisfied. It’s like eating fast food when craving gourmet, that craving never ceases, it’s just mitigated for a moment with a bottom-of-the-barrel substitute. The next time the hunger returns, it leaves its victim in gut-splitting agony so much so that it’s exhausting. The hunger is kicking his ass to force him to get what he’s denying himself. Damon is the victim. For once, he is the victim here.

Bonnie being intelligent and knowing Damon, she can guess what his struggles consist of. It takes her a week to consider it. He never says it explicitly, that he wants to bite her, but the shadow of veins under his eyes says enough. Damon Salvatore is a predator. It is unnatural for him not to hunt prey for an indefinite amount of time. She is all he has.

She thinks hard on this, questioning if her empathy has reached a new level of desperation. She asks herself what is her infatuation with being needed. She asks herself why she would rip herself apart to heal others. Why she feels this undying, naked, indelible need to do for others without doing for herself. She asks herself if the roles were reversed would Damon do the same?

For a week, she watches him get weaker with want, endures his shitty moods and back talk. Not once does he ask or even hint that he’s starving.

It makes Bonnie want to offer herself up on a platter even more, there’s something wrong with her.

So she does it, in the kitchen, cuts a sliver of red at the wrist “by accident” and Damon- he looks bad. He looks blue.

She turns to grab a napkin to dab at the blood but when she turns back around he’s gone. Upstairs, his door slams hard enough that she can hear the wood split.

“Damon!” She calls after him but he doesn’t reply and she doesn’t see him again until the next night because he refuses to step out of his room.

“Stop. We need to talk,” he’s fixing Italian trying to pretend like nothing ever happened twenty-six hours before; apron on, back turned, humming. He’s not okay.

“Then talk, Bon Bon.” he adds some herbs to the white wine sauce, grated cheese beside him, back still turned.

There’s something that’s frightening her about this and it could be herself. He hasn’t even asked yet she wants this for him so bad.

“Damon. I know you’re hungry.”

“Ding, ding. I’m making dinner right now, Bon.” His voice is rough like it’s warning her not to push this any further. The pots and pans clatter a little louder in his palms. Red tomatoes a stark contrast against the pale noodles.

“I cut myself on purpose last night.”

This grabs his attention. Swiftly, he drops everything, turns around and walks into Bonnie, forcing her to walk backwards until the cabinets halt her with a soft thud. His hands are at her shoulders with a dizzying shake as he says “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

Damon Salvatore, always so invasive, too animated, with a face that’s intimidatingly perfect.

It’s unsettling and downright unfair for him to possess such appeal; even angry and a threat to her life span, any woman would want him. Hell, Any man would want him. She wishes she could steal whatever that quality is. She wants that for herself.

It’s almost comical that after all these years of his presence, he can still startle her with his beauty. With his mouth shut, he’s so unassuming and pretty. In all seriousness, he looks like an angel. The slanted smirk and jaded attitude is the only hint that maybe this book doesn’t match the cover.

He gives her another shake as if the answer will tumble out of her, it makes her think of the time they hated each other. Way back when.

But now, this is too close for comfort. His eyes are an angry blue and she’s swimming laps, her words get caught in her throat before she can reply.

Weakly she says, “Just stop fighting it, okay? I’ve made up my mind and I trust you.”

“You trust me? You trust me, Bon? I don’t even trust me! What’s the matter with you?”

Honesty is not suitable. She can’t say that it’s lips anywhere on her body that she needs even if it’s at her wrist. That her withdrawal has her fingers exhausted and her body aching because she needs some sort of physical connection outside of herself. Bonnie wants Damon to drink her like wine so she can remember what it feels like to be desired and she can see it, the desire she needs, veiled and trapped behind the denial she knows too well. She wants to open that door to see if he needs her just as bad as she thinks he does. She wants to set it on fire.

“Damon, please.”

When she tilts her head and locks her green eyes with his, he sees the deprivation. Like she’s starving too. Like it pains her to not have his teeth in her neck. The look on her face reveals everything she cannot say. Damon shudders.

He doesn’t mean to trail his nose up the slope of her neck but he does and his stomach growls so violently that he’s surprised he doesn’t shake. There’s a new scent in the air and it’s Bonnie’s arousal.

He clenches his jaw with a painful force, half expecting it to shatter.

The words are no louder than a whisper when she says, “I’m your friend. Let me do this for you.”

People who are actually friends seldom use the word “friend.” But Damon and Bonnie ware the word out trying to convince one another that it’s all they are, nothing more. They haven’t said the word more than they have in this hell because it’s a reminder when sanity starts to slip. It’s a reminder when they start to wonder what would happen if they weren’t just “friends.”

Best friends.

Bonnie makes it hard for him. She makes everything hard for him and this hell where she’s the only one to exist makes the things he could easily ignore blatantly obvious. The feminine curve of her breast, the spread of her hips, the lovely enigmatic green of her eyes, he’s always thinking of Bonnie. Even asleep, she haunts his dreams with golden brown skin and a crooked smile. The ghost of her fragrance creates a tornado around him in this tiny cramped space called hell, it’s comforting and devastating.

Everytime he looks in the mirror he’s reminded of the fact that everything he wants he takes. Even if he doesn’t want it, he takes it. But with Bonnie, it doesn’t quite work out that way. There’s rules with Bonnie. His charisma is useless to her because that’s his best friend. She’s immune to him and maybe he’s not okay with that.

Poor Damon, he could weep now because Bonnie was never supposed to be the one to snap first. He was supposed to be the unhinged vampire with bountiful problems, the rebel and she was supposed to be the very stable, very perfect witch but she’s breaking. He’s her lesser and she’s the one who’s breaking. This has to be a cruel dream where if he hits himself hard enough, he’ll wake up.

His fangs slip out by accident, they feel the presence of Bonnie’s blood just humming with delicacy and complexity under her skin. She’s waiting to be tasted, she takes her hand and guides his mouth to her neck so his tooth pricks her skin. A bead of red shoots up but his tongue is quick to swipe that first drop almost sampling to make sure Bonnie is serious. She says something under her breath but the bloodlust has the rest of his senses useless. He doesn’t hear her.

Damon gnashes his teeth into her delicate skin, his expertise never allowing one ribbon of blood to trail away because he laps it up so greedily, so manically that he almost chokes. It feels like heaven busted and started showering its essence into his open mouth. He can’t take the time to breath or else he’ll rob himself of perfection for a few seconds too long. The life surges back into his body.

A montage of honey, patchouli, iron, lilac, roses, metal, bergamot, smoke, magic, fire, fear all on his tastebuds at once. In the distance, desire begins to bloom.

Then there’s a click and he starts to feel it.

Bonnie’s arousal is creeping up on him slowly like a distant claw of nails down his spine, the ghost of a sopping mouth around the head of his cock. He emits a wet groan then takes another tactless slurp and can practically feel Bonnie’s walls gripping against his shaft- it frightens him how bad he wants it. It scares him how he can feel the phantom of her nipples through his apron and t-shirt. He’s sweating when his pants start to bunch at the center. She’s breathing erratically, wraps her legs around his waist so she feels that lovely poke between her legs and it terrifies him.

Never has he untangled the web of feelings he associated with the complicatedly simple Bonnie Shealia Bennett. However, that web has been slowly unraveling since their first day here. Those feelings he never was honest with himself to admit are dousing him right now, of his own volition. He’s frightened out of his mind with the realization that he’s always wanted to take his best friend, little Judgey, Bon Bon, Elena’s BFF, and sex her into a stupor until the only word in her vocabulary is his name.

Damon Salvatore wants to fuck Bonnie Bennett so deeply that they must excavate his dick from her slot to retrieve it.

Oh God.

He can see himself, inside of her, inside of his best friend as she begs him to go faster and harder but he won’t listen. He never listens and it’s driving her up the fucking wall as her pleas to let her cum all over him fumbles his rhythm. Damon has never been more afraid of himself. Damon has never been more oblivious of a desire that waited for a moment like this since their first encounter. He feels baited.

Fear of this discovery, this dormant longing, brings him back to earth and violently disconnects him from the bloodlust, he removes his fangs too quickly, his head spinning with filthy thoughts of his best friend. The moan that tumbles past his lips is dire, it rips through his throat and says she has to fuck him or he will simply die.

Somewhere an invisible candle burns in the air labeled “Bonnie’s Lust.” It’s so strong Damon can taste it.

They look at each other differently. They are strangers. She’s painted in red, his mouth is a mess, the erection in his pants is hard enough to unearth his grave and bury himself alive. He offers his bleeding wrist up to her and tries not to cum when her mouth latches on.

When she’s done, he decides he won’t distract himself with the gorgeous sight of a panting Bonnie, looking as if she’s been thoroughly fornicated with her eyes all glossy like that.

Damon is dizzy, tipsy from blood, pleasure and a bombardment of epiphanies.

He turns around too sharply on his heel and passes out, just like that. A lifeless heap of beauty on the kitchen floor.

Bonnie’s definitely scared of whatever took over them as she crouches next to him and fans his face. Her mind is still far from her after such a disastrous high. Her heartbeat sounds like the pounding of an incessant guest.

Knock, knock.

In that moment, Deja-vu gives her a kiss. Bonnie’s mind floats back to Elena’s lapis prom dress with the silver clasps in the back and how she always thought Damon was perfect for Elena like that tailored dress. The way it hugged her and snapped in place. The way it clicked.

Bonnie remembers trying that dress on first and falling in love. She loved that feeling, how it felt like it was made for her and only her but Elena insisted. Not even Caroline knew. She gave the dress up for her, anything for her best friend. It was just a pretentious mélange of fabric and thread. A lifeless heap of beauty on the fitting room floor.

When he awakens, they pretend as if nothing happened and Damon wonders if he dreamt that but the little wounds on her neck mock his question. Desire still sleeps between them, dependent on that next slip up to pounce. But it never gets the chance.

Damon relives that moment when he meets himself in the mirror and the hint of teeth marks is on his neck from Bonnie’s “tipsy” courage.

“Once bitten, twice shy,” he says to himself and ironically being a century-old vampire he never understood the saying. He lets the little phrase stagnate the air because he doesn’t want to concern himself with figuring out why Bonnie’s teeth marks aren’t disappearing with his rapid healing ability.

Anyways, it’s kind of cute.

He sends her a picture message with a text to follow:

Twice bitten, once dead.

[loverofthefiction]

I (don’t) Hate You

Summary: You and Peter don’t exactly get along, but what will happen when Tony is over it?

Peter Parker x reader (can be read as a Stark!reader)

Word Count:  2279

Warnings: some harsh words (i broke my own heart oof), angst and fluff

Author’s Note: oh hi i’m back uwu. i’ve been having bad writer’s block and literally no ideas when it comes to stories. So please send some requests! i swear i’ll so my best :’)) Anyway, enjoy!!

He tasted blood in his mouth and felt the life in his body practically draining away.

But really, it was just another Tuesday.

You had tried your best to get to him as fast as you could, but with a whole pack of bodyguards that had somehow went unaccounted for in your first sweep of the area, they had gotten to him before you had.

The mission was supposed to be a solo mission but since Peter was practically new to the whole ‘avenging’ thing, Tony told you to tag along in case something went wrong. But the three of you knew that really, Tony wanted you to go on a bonding mission and maybe learn to get along.

See, you and Peter didn’t exactly get along. You had tried when he first joined the team, but he was cold against you so you opted to return his feelings. The charisma he showed towards certain people did sometimes anger you (how the hell were you so different from them to not be worthy of his smiles or stupid jokes?) and the utter enthusiasm he wore when he was paired with Steve or Natasha? It felt like a slap to the face. But you weren’t jealous. Nope. Absolutely not.

It was stupid from the start; Peter had been a crime fighter for years, you were sure he could handle a little mission like this.

But alas, Tony was in charge of the both of you and you had to comply, whether you agreed with him or not.

It only took you a few hits to the face and a kick to the gut before the guy that had taken Peter was lying on the floor unconscious (maybe a little dead).

“What the hell took you so long?” he grunted as you freed him from the confines of the chair he was in.

“Oh you know, just raided their pantry really quickly, rich people have the name brand shit.”

He stayed quiet in response to your stupid comment as you both stealthily snuck out of the large mansion you were in, knocking out the few bodyguards that you found in your way.

Soon enough, you reached the outside where he held you close, much to both of your dismays, and webbed you away near the extraction point.

“How’d it go?” Tony asked as you and Peter stomped onto the Quinjet.

“Awful. He complained the entire time,” you grumbled.

“Me? I was complaining because you almost got me killed! All because you don’t know how to scope a perimeter right!”

“It’s not my fault they had twenty bodyguards hidden in their basement or something! Next time, why don’t you shove your opinion right up your-”

“Hey! That’s enough!” Tony yelled, stepping between the two of you before it escalated. “Listen I don’t know why you two have this issue, but I suggest you figure it out by tomorrow morning or you’ll both be kicked out of the Avengers.”

Your jaw dropped and Peter’s eyes widened.

“Tony!”

“Mr. Stark, you can’t do this-”

“Of course I can, and I will if you two don’t get your shit together. As soon as we get to the compound, I’m locking you two in a room and you won’t be let out until you’ve controlled yourselves.”

“This is bullshit,” you spat.

“I suggest you watch your mouth or else I’ll move up the deadline.”

..

“Alright,” Tony opened the door to a bedroom neither you nor Peter had seen before, “tick tock, kiddos. I’ll be back in the morning.”

And with that he shut the door, even being sure he locked it with a key before you heard his content steps leading away from it.

You were sitting on a chair towards one side of the room and Peter had situated himself at a desk on the other side, both of you staring daggers into the other.

“I absolutely despise you,” he growled.

“I feel the same way, darling,” you spat back.

“Idiot,” he sneered.

“Jerk,” you retorted.

“Asshole.”

“Moron.”

“You know, why can’t you just get it through that thick skull of yours that you need to stop being such an arrogant douche all the time?” you spat.

“As soon as you realize you’re not better than the rest of the world and that you have got to get that stick out of your ass.”

“I do not have a stick up my ass!” you yelled.

“Oh you do, sweetheart, and you need to get it out before you start kicking puppies and taking candy from children.”

“Oh, that’s it!” You stood up from the chair, fuming. “I can’t believe Tony would ever hire a dickhead like you! The only explanation would be out of pity! I mean, a wannabe superhero orphan glad to save the day just to make the last few people in his life proud? It’s a perfect sob story!” You regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth but it was too late to turn back now.

You saw the pain your words caused Peter take effect quickly and he turned away from you.

“That was a low blow, Y/N.”

You opened your mouth to apologize, but nothing came out. Your heart ached and you couldn’t imagine what his had felt like.

Shame causes you to fall back down onto your chair and your words echoed through your head.

After a while (minutes? Maybe half an hour or more), you finally gathered enough courage to croak something out:

“I-I’m sorry, Peter. I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean it.”

The room was silent, so you continued.

“The truth is,” you sighed, “I don’t hate you. I just hate the way you treat me. I think you’re a cool guy and I really admire the passion you have towards this line of work. Most people would have cracked in a month with all the things we see, but you, you’re a true hero.”

You heard him sigh and he turned his head slightly towards you.

“Do you mean it?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then… I’m sorry too.”

“For what?”

“I’ve been an asshole to you since the moment I’ve met you.”

“Oh Peter, you don’t have to-”

“But I do, I have to apologize. I felt pressure or some sort of competition between us and as soon as I realized there really wasn’t any, my pride was too strong and I… I don’t know, kept running with it I guess. I felt like it was too late to change, but now I realize that it never was.”

“Alright, so what do you say we start over?” You stood up and walked toward him, stopping when you were right in front of him. As soon as you had his full attention, you held out your hand. “Hi, my name is Y/N, nice to meet a new coworker.”

“I’m Peter,” he chuckled, taking your hand and shaking it. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

..

It had been two months since that time spent alone with Peter and it had worked, to say the least. You two were practically inseparable now.

In that span of two months, you had grown the closest you had ever been with anyone; he became your best friend, the one who you can share secrets with and who you can laugh at the stupidest things with.

The team didn’t mind your new closeness at first, they actually encouraged it. But now it was getting a little too much for their liking.

“Hey, kids,” Steve greeted as he walked into the common room where you and Peter were watching a movie, his head on your lap and you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Hi,” you both said in unison.

He sat on the couch adjacent to the one you were sitting on.

“So are you two…” he pointed between the two of you and raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“No, we’re just-” you stopped your fingers midway through his hair- “close.”

“Yeah,” Peter cleared his throat. “We’re best friends.”

“Ok.”

Steve got up and walked away, leaving the two of you confused.

“What do you think that came from?” Peter asked.

“I have no idea.”

..

“Y/N, you’re doing better on your left side, keep practicing as I told you,” Natasha said as the both of you walked out the training area after a session.

“Thanks, I tried to have Peter practice with me but he wouldn’t do it because he was scared I’d hurt him.” You bit your lip, your mind immediately going to the goofy face he would make whenever you suggested training together.

“You two have gotten really close, huh?”

“Yeah, we tell each other everything.”

“Ok.”

“Why is everyone so weird about it? Steve had the same reaction.”

“It’s obvious.”

“What is?”

“How you two really feel about each other.”

“We’re best friends.”

“But you want to be more than that.”

“No I don’t, it would mess things up.”

“Ah, so you do have feelings for him.”

“No, I don’t,” you looked down so she wouldn’t see the blush sneaking on your face.

“I’m not going to sit here and pretend I know what I’m talking about but I also know you two would be really good with each other. And maybe we wouldn’t have to deal with your cuddling shit anymore.”

She patted your back and walked out of the room to probably take a shower, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

..

“Hey, Tony,” you greeted as you walked into his lab with two cups of coffee. He immediately put the wrench he was working with down and took the mug you offered.

“Hey, kid, what’s new?”

“I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you… do you think Peter has feelings for me?”

“Absolutely.”

“What?”

“Everyone knows. Look,” he looked around the lab. “Hey, Mariah!”

“Yes?” an intern looked up from her work on a desktop.

“Who is Peter in love with?”

“Y/N, sir,” she responded.

“Thanks,” he said and looked back at you. “See? It’s so obvious.”

“Oh… then what do I do?”

“Leave that up to me, I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

..

It had been a week or two since you hung out with Peter, and you were starting to get worried. Did you accidentally say something wrong? Maybe you had just not noticed…

The fear and guilt were so bad that they kept you up some nights, your fingers itching towards your phone, wanting to text him, but the rational side of you would put it away as to give him his space.

“Hey, Y/N,” Tony greeted, the usual bags under his eyes weren’t as prominent, meaning he actually had gotten rest, and answered why he was so peppy that morning.

“Hi, Tony,” you grumbled, nursing a (strong) mug of coffee.

“Have you seen Peter today? I asked him to come to the lab but he didn’t show up.”

“No, I haven’t talked to him in a few weeks.” The sentence sent a small ping of pain in your chest but you kept it to yourself and stared at the mug in your hands.

“Hmm… maybe you should go to your room and, I don’t know, take a nap, watch a movie, doodle in a coloring book, whatever kids do these days.”

“Tony…” you narrowed your eyes at him in suspension. “What are you doing?”

“Not trying to make you go to your room obviously.”

When he saw that you hadn’t budged, he rolled his eyes.

“Just go, trust me.”

“You’re not tricking me into having to disable one of your bots again, right?”

“No! Now off you go! Scram!”

“Fine!” You got up and stared at him until you had left the kitchen, cautiously walking to your room. Since you hadn’t had much sleep lately, you also hadn’t spent much time in your room either. Most nights, you stayed up and hung out in the common room or in a lab, getting ahead on work for the next day and so on.

When you got to your room, you creaked the door open carefully.

At first glance, everything was normal.

Until you heard someone clear their throat beside you.

“Jesus! Peter!” you shouted upon realization. You immediately wrapped your arms around him.

“H-hey, Y/N,” he stuttered, caught off guard by the way you threw yourself at him.

“Where have you been?” You let go of him to look at his face. “And why are you dressed in a tux?”

“It was Mr. Stark’s idea.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Then, his eyes widened in realization. “Oh! These are for you.”

He handed you a bouquet of flowers from his shaky hands and you smiled.

“Thank you, Peter! These are beautiful.”

“Like you,” he said nervously.

“Let me guess, Tony told you to say that.”

“Yes, but I actually mean it,” he smiled. “Sorry, I’m really bad at this…”

“At what?”

“Asking people out…” His hand went back to rub the back of his neck again.

“I think you just did,” you chuckled. “The answer’s yes by the way.”

His shy smile grew to a proud grin and he stood a bit more confidently.

“So do you want to go get breakfast?”

“As long as we can go to McDonald’s,” you grinned back.

“Oh thank you, I really need to change out of this tux.”

“Go, I’ll be ready in a bit.” You watched him as he practically skipped to the door. “Oh, and Peter?”

“Yes?”

You walked up to him, held his face in your hands and placed a small kiss on his lips.

“You’re pretty too.”

[sunflowerstrays]

it’s nothing personal // park jinyoung // pt 2

master list (pt 1)

park jinyoung x reader.

words: 2.3k.

genre: funny, fluff (??), angst (kinda??)

—

“So, tell me everything I ought to know about you,” you say as you sit between Jackson and Jaebum, brushing your skirt down and holding the notepad in front of you. In your hand is a pen, ready to scribble down anything worth noting in a way that none of the boys that will realise, and beneath the notepad is your mobile phone that is recording the entire conversation.

“Do you not know a lot about us already?” Yugyeom asks, “I mean, didn’t you research us prior to applying?”

“Of course I did!” You exclaim, making Jackson laugh at your sudden outburst. “But everyone knows that, I want to know more about you as humans. Tell me about everything, from your favourite colour to the way you like your coffee and more. We are going to be working together for a long time, right?”

“Well, I guess you’ve got a point,” Yugyeom says, sinking back into his chair as Youngjae beside him shines to life.

“So, my favourite type of hot drink is actually tea, but like those really cool flavoured ones you can get,” Youngjae begins, and like that and without knowing it, he saves your neck and does you the hugest favour. You keep glancing between Jaebum, Jinyoung and the rest of the boys, all whom bar those two seem to have wholly accepted you. They are really hesitant and shut off towards you, making you equally as nervous to be around them.

All of these horrible thoughts keep flying through your head; what if they find out, or are on to you? What repercussions will that have? Are you going to be kicked out of JYP, and later TMZ, left to fend for yourself and your daughter?

“But honestly I just love Coco more than anything, even Jaebum,” it’s Jaebum’s reaction to Youngjae’s comment that drags you out of your spiral. You break into a smile despite not hearing half of what Youngjae had said.

This is how the majority of the morning plays out; unsuccessful. You find out nothing that is of any use to you - Bambam had a girlfriend back when he was six, and Yugyeom gets tipsy after three glasses of wine. Nothing that would ruin their career, and save yours.

Disgruntled, you follow them to their dance studio when they go ahead to rehearse for their upcoming tour. You know that you will find absolutely nothing out about them by watching them perform to a mirror and camera, but it was worth a shot at least.

Watching them practice though was mesmerising, to say the least. They all moved with such fluidity and professionalism that made you question why you were doing this again; you could clearly see how passionate that they were about their jobs, their careers, their lifestyles, that you wanted to cry thinking about what you were going to do eventually.

It made you feel a little better about not getting anywhere with the research so far.

Throughout the practice some of the boys would come and sit by your side for a break, and that was your only opportunity to speak with them all privately and see what they had to say about anything. You’d subtly try and quiz them on political questions, but for the most part they didn’t hold an opinion, or at least nothing worth bringing down an entertainment company about.

It wasn’t until Jinyoung took his break and decided to take you on a tour of the building that you made good use of your time.

“Don’t have too much fun!” Jackson would say loudly as Jinyoung held the door for you, with his younger friends giggling between themselves. You could sense the daggers that Jinyoung was sending them as he shut the door behind himself.

And surprisingly, it isn’t as bad as you thought. In your head Jinyoung was very cut off, cold and quiet, but on his own he was actually rather pleasant and friendly. He would smile and chat encouragingly with some of the trainees walking around the building, and would always greet the other members of staff. You were making a mental note of everything he did, wanting to know everything about him.

You’d be lying if you didn’t feel drawn to him; you weren’t sure whether it was his good looks, his charming charisma with those around him, or something else, but he was so interesting and mysterious and like a story you had to unpick apart to understand. You wanted to understand Jinyoung, and not just so you could dig up some dirt on him.

“You’ve asked us a lot of questions about us,” Jinyoung says as he buys both you and him a coffee from the cafe in the bottom of the building. You smiled at the way everyone regarded him with such honour and admiration, and wondered what it felt like to be that admired and loved. No one, bar your daughter, gave you such high valued opinions. “Tell me something about you. Something that no one knows.”

“My favourite colour is orange,” you say, indicating to your orange converse and making Jinyoung break out into a bright smile. You giggle as you take your drink, following him out of the cafe.

“Something that not a lot of people know,” Jinyoung reminds you, making you blush beneath your makeup. You chew your lip for a second, trying to think of something that isn’t a lie but won’t reveal too much about yourself.

“Once I wanted to be an actress. My grandma took me to see a musical once, and that is what I wanted to do,” you finally confess, making Jinyoung regard you in a slightly different light. “But my lifestyle and upbringing didn’t really permit such ambition dreams, so a translator is where I sit.”

“I think that’s beautiful,” Jinyoung says, pulling you up a flight of stairs and taking you onto a private little balcony. “It’s a shame that you couldn’t get that sort of.. Dream in motion, I guess.”

That’s when you feel it all hit you like a brick of pure overwhelming guilt, anger and sadness. Guilty because your sole purpose for making friends with Jinyoung and the rest of got7 was to ruin their company into savage threads. Anger because you right now, you wanted to genuinely befriend Jinyoung, tell him how much you appreciated his soft words and kindness towards you. Sadness because once this was all over, he would hate you.

How had you grown so attached to him in one day?

This is when you decide you need to cut yourself aside from Jinyoung and his friends. Don’t get too close, don’t become too friendly, because in the end you’ll result in hurting. This hits you in the gut, because you realise finally if you pull this off, you’ll quite possibly be one of the most hated people in Korea.

“Why the quiet?” Jinyoung asks as he finishes the last of his drink, looking to see that you’ve barely even touched yours. “Did I do something? You were so chatty with the other boys.”

“No!” You exclaim, “It’s just… this whole thing is so different and new to me, and I’m not entirely used to it. You have been so nice to me and it’s a little baffling?”

“Did you think I was going to be horrible then?”

Yes. Cut off and cold. “No, I just didn’t know how well I’d get on with everyone. It feels like we’ve just clicked- that sounds so weird, Jinyoung I’m sorry.”

“Ah no y/n it’s cute,” he says, flicking your nose as the two of you stare across the city.

Seoul was beautiful. Despite it’s heavy pollution, often rainy days and countless near death experiences with public transport that you have suffered, it was one of your favourite places. You had hated growing up as you had, but it was worth it if it meant you got to visit Seoul every day for work.

The thing that crushed you about this city though is that it was where dreams were made; yet here you were, having yet to achieve your full potential and dreams whilst being on track to crush others. Jinyoung was busy beside you looking over the city, entirely oblivious to the war inside of you currently, as you questioned all of your morals.

Were you actually capable of doing this? Of ruining a group of boys and their dreams?

“Jinyoung,” you say, sparking his attention and snapping him from his daydream, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

You aren’t sure why you said that; there was no way you could tell him what you was doing. He’d hate you - and you didn’t know why, but the thought of Jinyoung hating you was making your chest hurt.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Jinyoung asks, turning to face you as you stare into the last of your coffee. You were going to throw up- there was no way you could do this.

Just try and miss his shoes.

“I wanted to be a journalist,” you spit out, forcing some of the truth out of you, “as well. Actress or journalist.”

“Oh,” Jinyoung looks panicked for the briefest second, so brief that you weren’t sure if it was even there. “Well, why don’t you try and pursue such a career now? You could easily go back to school and do it again.”

“But I haven’t got the money, or time,” or childcare, and also I am already a journalist. You are a spider, with your web being the lies that you are tangling Jinyoung and his friends - flies - in. Innocent flies that were just on their way, and you were going to kill them.

Metaphorically, at least, you only needed to end their career and not their lives. But you wasn’t sure if you could do either; after all, you were a just a small town journalist and were definitely not ready for the big screen.

—

“I think it looks really good on him,” you speak up suddenly, making all of the boys raise an eyebrow at you. You raise a hand and indicate to Jaebum, who was currently dressed in tracksuit bottoms, a mesh shirt that Bambam had forced him to wear, and his bucket hat. You couldn’t see his eyes, but there was a smirk on his face that you were going to play to your advantage. “I mean, he’s got a great body. Flaunt what you’ve got, baby.”

“Thanks,” Jaebum replies, amusement in his tone. “Next comeback, boys?”

“Unfortunately not all of us are that lucky to look so good in jogging bottoms and a mesh shirt, Jaebum, but you do you,” Jinyoung chuckles, crossing one leg over the other as he sits beside you. Following your micro-confession on the balcony, in which you nearly ruined his nice shoes with your extreme guilt, Jinyoung had shown you the rest of the building before returning to dance. The boys had all wiggled their eyebrows when the two of you had returned in a manner that made Jinyoung roll your eyes and you burn bright red, but that was when something had hit you.

Chaeyoung had recently joked about you sleeping with any of the GOT7 members for information. Perhaps you wouldn’t have to go that far, but if you were able to get under their skin one way or another, you’d find out that information. You’d be trusted, accepted even more so, and this would kick the whole process into motion much faster.

The only issue was getting one of them to spark an interest in you.

So, being the actress you lied about wanting to become, you had disappeared into the toilets before returning to the boys, and had made subtle changes to your appearance. Anything that would make you more attractive in their eyes, but you had a horrible feeling it wasn’t working.

Also, you were terrible at flirting. Everything came out as being too awkward and odd, or just you being sweet. Never had you been successful at flirting with a boy, and today was not that day either.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” you say calmly, resting a hand on Jinyoung’s knee as you turned to face him. He stiffened ever so slightly, and you weren’t sure if you had overstepped your boundary. Yugyeom and Mark had noticed the interaction and shared an odd look, confusion in their eyes. “I’m sure you’d look equally as beautiful.”

“But we all know who would look best,” Jackson says, returning to the room wearing a mesh shirt himself. You couldn’t help but blush at this, and with a giggle you took away your hand. Jinyoung’s eyes followed the movement, his cheeks suddenly flushed and arms in his lap.

Perhaps this was it. Some moral, ethically sane part of you was desperate for it not to be. There was no way you could lead Jinyoung, or any of the boys, on in this way, but times were tough. Every time you were beginning to question your activities, you’d be reminded of the black market deal hanging over your head. You dared step a toe out of line, and it was all over for you and your little girl.

And no matter how attracted you were to Jinyoung’s cold and calculating figure, you’d never give up anything for her.

—

i’m so bad at updating, oof-

[onlyjihoons]

collegebf! daniel

a/n; happy birthday to kang choding hehe,, dedicated for my dearest mother @mongniel aurora until she disowned me so im trying to validate myself and also the loyal mom, ariane @deepdickdaniel

(repost bc the tags werent working)moodboard will be uploaded in a seperate post soon!

major: vetinary

minor: sports science

honestly took up vetinary bc of peter and rooney

so he could save on the fees to the vet

though he puts up a strong front he is often a kultz and actually really soft??

likes kids too and often swings by the early childhood department to visit minhyun

but let’s face it, animals like him better than the babies do

has a phobia of insects, especially flying ones

hence cant join practical lessons that involves specimen or live insects

his classmates would be kind enough to share with him the notes they took in class, but he would rather fail the topic than look at notes of insects

there was once his friend, ong threw a fake spider whilst daniel was studying and he screamed, pushing off the seemingly 1 ton table and chair away from him

ong was like,,, “are you sure he wants to be a vet next time”

despite his phobia of insects, he will actually grin and bear it when he needs to remove lice from animals

red bull and gummy addict, but more likely to die of shock from insects than diabetes

you will always spot a can of red bull on his lecture desk, and bet 10 bucks it has a love note attached to it from his admirers

fairly popular in school, because a soft, tall and cute guy doing vetinary?? he just screams boyfriend material in that white lab coat

and glasses slipping down his nosebridge just makes him look even more cuter

loves dancing as a hobby so he took it up as his minor

does b-boying and modern dance, looks equally hot in both

when the school hall is filled with girls, it is either some kpop boy band is performing, or daniel and his dance group, wanna one are performing

has so much charisma in his dancing, the idea of “cute daniel” gets thrown away

but a cute bunny most of the time who is addicted to gummies

surprisingly, hasn’t dated a lot as contrast to rumours that he’s a fuckboy

he really hates fucking around with others’ feelings… despite being choding(childish) around his hyungs of wanna one

meanwhile you,, a medicine student trying to keep up with the expectations of society

to be honest, you’re doing well

but not well enough to enter the top hospitals of seoul

and you’re here on scholarship anyway, might as well make use of it to make your parents proud

you’re your parents’ only child too, the pressure to do well is also quite high

you barely dated, the only time was in high school where you were a foolish teenager dating your best friend

you did have classmates confessing to you though, but everything stayed platonic

they weren’t upset surprisingly, they were more than willing to be friends with you too

eventually they found their other halves, but are still good friends with you

you were glad guys in your faculty were understanding,, unlike some that disliked you after that

you were friends with jaehwan, your old friend since the both of you were in diapers

he took up music, and ended up having lots of college scholarship offers

he eventually went to your college, despite it not one of his first few choices

“my friend would die a lonely virgin if i didnt help her with her love life”

“shut up jaehwan, 80% of your girlfriends broke up with you because your laugh is annoying”

“i dId NOT aSk for this sLaNdEr”

anyway, you had no idea how jaehwan ended up in wanna one(and daniel’s roomate), depite his “boom boom-bastic” dance skills

winkwonk

but that boy’s vocals can reach to the gods in heaven and appease them

he tried to matchmake you with all of the members of wanna one(excluding the minors of course) but it all failed because your friend was the worst at being discreet

the lords of venus eventually shined upon you when daniel was sent to your faculty for “emergency” treatment

“y/n,,, we need you to fix daniel, quick.” jaehwan said breathlessly over the phone

“if he needs a one night stand, im not an option, you know that, kim jaehwan.”

“no, that stupid boy accidentally cut himself while trying to disect a frog… and he’s bleeding a lot.”

“oh the flower boy from vetinary?” you nodded as you took your first aid kit, “but you aren’t even majoring in vetinary, jaehwan, what are you doing with daniel?”

“he called me to call you– ok nevermind, i’ll explain to you later, we’re on our way to your faculty. wait for us outside the medicine labs.”

“uh okay.”

so there you were, waiting outside the medicine labs with your first aid kit

seconds later, you saw 3 boys running towards you, one visibly taller than the other 2

you could finally make out their faces, it was jaehwan, daniel and another boy, wonwoo whom you were friends with due to jaehwan’s failed matchmaking

“y/n,, i think daniel is gonna suffer from anaemia…”

you tried to stifle your laughter as you examined the cardigan wrapped around daniel’s hand

“he won’t. don’t worry.” you assured them as you unraveled the cardigan, “let’s just hope it’s nothing too deep…”

when you revealed the wound, it was just a minor cut, though not as minor as a paper cut but definitely bleeding

you glared at jaehwan, who smiled sheepishly and resigned to his death after you treated daniel

you dressed the wound quickly, lips pursed in concentration

what you didnt notice was daniel’s gaze, which was on you the whole time

he had a weird feeling in his stomach, he wanted to use his other hand to run it through your hair

he tried to shake it off, but he got more and more attracted to you when he saw your eyes meeting his to make sure he isnt uncomfortable

this wasnt the first time daniel saw you though, he often saw you on jaehwan’s lockscreen, as your friend had set the selca both of you took as his lockscreen

as much as daniel wanted to meet you, he didn’t want to give you the wrong impression because of his rumours

and now he finally did, but he was pretty sure you’re gonna hate him for being over-reacting

“done,” you patted his dressing and pushed his hand towards him, “it’s nothing too deep, don’t worry. but make sure to take it off when you’re showering, if you need any help just give me a call.”

daniel shot you one of his signature eyesmiles, “thank you so much, i’m sorry i had to make you rush down for me…”

“no its fine! just call me whenever. i hope you get well soon.” you smiled, then tiptoed to daniel’s ear, “just don’t tell jaehwan though, he can be a little, nosey.”

you were lying if you said daniel wasn’t attractive and totally did not win you over with his eyesmile in the span of 3 seconds

“and kim jaehwan, you owe me a meal. for helping your friend and putting up with your drama.”

at this point, daniel was totally smitten

everyone could see it, even the members of wanna one started teasing him about it

“i can set you up with a date with y/n if you want–”

“no i dont like her peter and rooney are my girlfriends”

daniel totally did not ask almost everyone in his faculty for your number

when he finally had the guts to text you, he was all giddy when you replied, jumping up whenever he heard the personalized notification just for your contact

meanwhile, while you were talking to daniel, you really loved it when he talks about animals, it seemed like all time has stopped in the world and his passion for taking care of animals is just so attractive

and he didnt seem like the usual fuckboy everyone perceived him to be

one day, daniel asked you out for a pizza date, and you immediately agreed

because free pizza and a cute date, why not

the both of you ended up going to laundry pizza, just bc daniel said ioi went there to take their album jacket photos there LOL

but the pizza there was good so you weren’t complaining

daniel ended up paying for the both of you, after 15 minutes of rentless argument over who should pay

the both of you also went to the arcade, wasting your money on those claw machines

you didn’t get anything, but you had fun throwing airballs at the basketball machine thingy

daniel walked you back pretty early, because he knew you had a morning lecture the next morning

not gonna lie, you wanted to stay longer but daniel was not gonna have any of it

daniel walked you till your doorstep, and your hands were fumbling through your purse for your keys

looks like someone forgot their keys,,,

you laughed humourlessly as you tried to open the locked door, but only for daniel to giggle along with you

your roomate was out too, and she wouldn’t be back till the next morning

“i dont think its safe for you to be sleeping outside, why dont you stay over at my place?”

“im–”

“ok let’s go”

you didnt even say anything and here you are, at daniel’s dorm, unsure of what to do

just watching daniel hastily clean up his dorm is quite amusing

“jaehwan wont be back till really late, he has an event to attend to.” daniel smiled as he proceeeds to kick the sweet wrappers under the sofa, “i’m sorry you have to put up with this, y/n.”

“no, no, thank you for letting me stay here, or i’ll be freezing in the cold right now.” you shook your head, yawning

“do you want a change of clothes? i have a hoodie you can wear…hopefully”

you never knew you would be staying in daniel’s dorm, on his bed, in his hoodie

until today

you slept fairly well, with daniel’s scent invading all your senses

until you felt something on your foot

you woke up, scared

the thing kept probing at your feet, and soon it was licking it

you screamed, and soon enough daniel ran into his room to see what happned

“y-y/n?” he rubbed his eyes as he turned on the lights, “what happened?”

“s-something was at my foot”

daniel moved the sheets, and he found rooney peacefully sleeping on the foot of the bed

“i’m sorry, rooney always likes to invade the bed in the middle of the night,,, i should’ve told you earlier”

“it’s fine, i was just too shocked hahaha”

silence

“maybe i’ll sleep with you, so peter and rooney wont disturb us”

you stared at daniel, as he quickly waved his hands, “no, no, i wont do anything, i swear, you can end me if i do.”

neither of you could sleep, so daniel nudged you

“y/n… i know its weird to say this but,, i like you”

well that was really weird

“i don’t expect you to accept me and all but i just wanna let you know that i–”

you cut daniel off with a kiss, as he sneakily snaked his arms around your waist to bring you closer

after a good like, 20 seconds, you pulled away, “me, rejecting kang daniel?? no way.”

ever since the both of you started dating, jaehwan started to brag about himself, saying that the both of you were a couple thanks to him,,,

but would shut up immediately after he sees you in the vicinity because he would be running away from you

a very cute relationship, daniel would always wrap his arms around your shoulders and snuggle you close to him

instant ramen dates are a big thing and you always have to clean up after daniel

but he helps of course, after hearing you nag at him for the nth time

he would always make you a bento before your papers, with a note that says, “with this bento, you will do well! fighting! love, daniel”

and vice versa, you would bake him muffins too

sweetest boyfriend, but the type to say pick up lines to annoy the heck out of you

they arent even smooth, theyre hella bad

and yes, kang choding still exists

you have to physically stop him from buying/eating more gummies or his teeth would rot

since daniel is relatively bigger in size, you would always steal his clothes and he would always wonder how his clothes would mysteriously go missing

he would know the answer when he sees you the next morning

the whole campus ships the both of you sm

please love kang daniel

[egoiistas]

91 Days

a/n: Hey @paintingmelon! I’m your secret Santa for @fullmetalsecretsanta! You mentioned you liked Mafia AU so I tried to do a nice little fight scene with some slight Royai. I based this off the crime anime of 91 days with a whole lot of creative liberties xD; I hope you like it!

Rating: T | Words: ~1400

The night promises violence. The sky above is clouded with the brownish-red of dried blood and there is a metallic scent in the air that could be from her own gunpowder. The surface of her pistol feels cool compared to the heavy humidity in the atmosphere. Yet, the streets are silent, peaceful. It’s past midnight. People are asleep in their homes. This district has been emptied by the patrons and all that’s left are shops -- or shopfronts to a specific speakeasy -- blind to the predator on the hunt.

She knows he’s there.

The quietude makes her feel like her footsteps along the alley are loud and booming as they echo off the walls. The steps down are slow and calculating and she doesn’t have to knock. She enters because she’s welcome.

For 91 days, Riza Hawkeye has put in the effort to befriend the head of the Mustang family, accepting every order like a dog and saving his life on more than one occasion despite her end game. He’s allowed to let his guard down around her just so she could get this satisfying closure. A nagging thought tugs at the back of her mind that she won’t find closure in bloodshed; bloodshed would not bring her family back from being slaughtered. The damage was already done to the girl who was hiding behind the walls.

The warmth of the fire melts away those thoughts and he’s sitting at the bar, hunched over and nursing a glass of his daily poison. He doesn’t even turn when the door shuts and her presence interrupts the peace of a man winding down.

“There’s only two reasons why a woman like yourself would find herself here in the dead of night,” he says. “And one of those things you’re more than welcome to take. The shelves are full of them” Roy Mustang empties the spirit into his mouth, quietly hissing from the burn. He looks at her finally, and says smoothly, “But not the other. I only have one of those.”

Riza takes a seat next to him and draws the gun as he shifts out of his chair. She points at his back, pulling the hammer with a click. “Don’t move.”

He turns his head to eye her, slowly lifting his arms up with a clink from the glass in one hand. He slips off the chair regardless. She follows on her feet.  “For as long as I’ve known you, just like you’ve known me., do you really think my skills involve drawing a gun quicker than you, Miss Sharpshooter?” There’s a pointed emphasis on the nickname.

She lets him walk around the bar. A mistake, in retrospect. Born of his charisma, Roy possesses a troublesome ability to disarm suspicions, making friends within the deadliest of enemies. Some say that the vitality of the smaller Mustang family is all thanks to his persuading personality and comely looks. It’s in the way he moves, it’s in his expressions, and it works against her. Her fingers coil tighter around the firearm’s handle There are no sounds other than his voice and he’s here completely alone. Cocky bastard.

She glares as he pours himself another glass. “I have a name.”

He raises an eyebrow, looking at her through his unruly bangs. “You’re not in the habit of going by your real name, are you, Riza Hawkeye?” He drinks and tastes her name on his tongue. “I heard about what happened to your family. I was a child still. Perhaps, nine? Your mother’s murder would be news for following months. Casting a dark cloud over East City when the trail goes cold and the people would question the competence of the police for years to come.

“Your father -- my master, my indomitable teacher, the only phantom of a father figure I would ever have--” he says dramatically; the words reach a crescendo in volume until it drops suddenly with calm, “--is murdered too.”

“By you,” Riza snarls. Her knuckles go white. “If not by your hand then by your wretched family. The only trails that the police had were in connections to you. Point is, I don’t give a fuck about my father. Good riddance.” Riza aims for a clean shot in between his eyes, and carefully says, “But you have his notes.”

“Whoever fed you that information is your enemy, because you’re wrong. I was framed. I can tell you that in confidence because I don’t have his notes”

“That’s a hard sell, Mustang.”

“Have you ever known me to be a liar?”

The glass in his hands shatters from a bullet piercing through it. Riza glares at him. “Stop stalling. The notes.”

“I thought we were friends.” Roy stares at her with a hint of remorse on his brow. “Is there nothing that can be done to persuade you?”

She feels the seed of doubt in her gut and its enough to second guess herself for a moment. In the moment, she believes him. Riza steels herself. “Give me what I want and then, I’ll think about it.”  

His mouth flattens into a straight line. “I was thinking this night would go differently,” he says sadly. The thick bottle filled with brown liquor is flung at her and she kicks the projectile. It smashes on the ground next to her. Roy deftly jumps over the bar, and burns a cylinder of fire just barely missing her - as a warning. He holds a lighter in his hand, pointing it in her face.  “Don’t make me do this.”

He feigns an attack and she reacts prematurely and fires off center. It doesn’t disable him, but it grazes his arm. The bullet hits the bottles behind him. Riza uses the opportunity to close the distance. The fire is better suited at a distance so she closes it, dashing forward as he curses at the blood from his flesh wound. He recovers quickly. She ducks under a column of flames. He’s using the least amount firepower, she realizes - probably to limit the damage to the bar. Roy swipes her arm up just as she fires another shot. Riza’s back collides with his chest when he maneuvers her wrist, twisting her around. “Think about who gave you that information. Ask yourself: why would I want to kill your father?”

Her face twists in contempt. “You’re using it.” She slips her left hand from his grip and pushes back hard to elbow him in the diaphragm. Roy shoves her and she slips on the wet floor. She’s no longer holding her pistol. He catches her by surprise when he tackles her and they land in the center of one of the tables in the room. The table splinters from their weight and the air is taken from her when she hits the ground with him over her. Riza struggles against his hold but her limbs are pinned down.

“Riza, listen!” He shouts, as if he’s trying to reach the logic clouded by her vengeance. “I did not kill your father. Give me a chance to explain.”

She growls. “You knew who I was - you had every opportunity to explain!”

Calmer, he replies, “You aren’t the type to listen without seeing the evidence first hand, are you? And I don’t have that yet.”

With all the force she can muster, she headbutts him and he lets go of her arm. Riza makes hard contact to his stomach with a balled fist and he falls over next to her, groaning and coughing. She scrambles to her feet and locates her pistol.

Riza points the gun barrel at his face. “Tell me where my father’s notes are, Mustang or I swear I’ll-” “Shoot me?” Roy interrupts, chuckling bitterly as he wipes the blood from the corner his lips. Propped up on an elbow, he looks up to her from the floor blanketed by shards of glass and splinters of wood. Christmas will have his ass by morning.

She glares at him with the fire and amber depths of a finer whiskey in her eyes.

“You’re out of ammo, sharpshooter.”

Incredulous, Riza checks the barrel and spots two  bullets still in the chamber. She falls for it. He swipes the feet from under her. She hits the ground again. Her hand feels around for the pistol and meets flesh instead. Gasping, she looks and his hand is gripping hers. He’s had better days. “I’m not asking you to spare me, I’m asking you to give me sometime before you carry out your death sentence.”

[magiclaud]

Inktober 6: Hanahaki disease

a/n: Based on my first (and only) love. I did cry a bit while writing this, heh. 

Arthur needed to focus.

He wanted to listen, wanted to understand what the hell was his teacher talking about, but he couldn’t help it. Not when that American accent he liked so much answered any question, smiling brightly every time he was right.

Arthur was ridiculous. That guy — he wasn’t even attractive. He wore glasses and this ugly jacket Arthur was sure he had never washed.

And he —his body was plump, probably because of all the greasy food he ate regularly. The only reason he had made a lot of friends was that people found him approachable. The type of guy with whom people cracked a few laughs in class. In addition, he was loud, so loud Arthur could almost hear his laughter when they were in different classrooms.

Arthur’s stomach felt heavy. The teacher asked him a question. Arthur said he didn’t know, earning a few laughs from his classmates. From the other corner of the class, Alfred Jones — the American guy, smiled sympathetically.

God, his insides were rumbling. The class was too hot, so much Arthur felt his guts would dissolve in their own blood. But he could do it — Arthur would wait until the class was over.

When he heard Alfred laugh again he felt worse. Arthur wondered what had happened — he used to be the popular guy of the class, famous for his politeness and with enough charisma to enchant anyone. And now — oh, what was he now? He had to cover his mouth after a particularly hard wave kicked him and he coughed awkwardly. As he did it, his throat was tingling and Arthur felt like he was going to choke.

Fortunately, the bell rung, and Arthur put the books in his bag as fast as he could. However, when he turned he felt drowned again, and this sensation did nothing but intensify when Alfred Jones stepped nearby.

“Hey,” Alfred said. When he first came to the school, Alfred used to be short. Now, he was as tall as Arthur and for some reason that made him uncomfortable. “What was all that?”

“Huh?”

“You were staring at me,” Alfred noted. They began to walk through the hallways. “Did I have something on my face?”

Alfred coughed. The stinging of his throat wouldn’t leave him. “I was bored,” he said, although somehow he doubted Alfred would believe him. Strangely, Alfred Jones was awfully good at reading the mood, which troubled Arthur to no end.

“Okay, heh. Later, dude,” Alfred smiled, showing his teeth. Arthur felt it creeping through the walls of his stomach. He needed to go.

Arthur stumbled to the bathroom. A few freshmen were there, although they couldn’t  care less about him. As Arthur kneeled next to the toilet, tears on his face, he cursed Alfred Jones.

Why was he torturing Arthur like this? That smile, that laugh — what did all mean? Why did he seem so careless while making Arthur fall in love? Arthur coughed again and again until he saw a rose petal fall from his mouth. That made him retch and soon more petals were landing on the toilet, as Arthur became more sweaty and flushed.

God dammit, he hated Alfred.

He hated that he found Alfred so irresistible and yet he couldn’t have him. His body must’ve known that, too, because the petals had a bitter taste that made Arthur want to puke more.

No, he would never have Alfred, the American wouldn’t look at him that way.  That was the most frustrating part — to know that your first pure love won’t be returned. And that, somehow, Arthur would be punished for it, coughing blossoms as a twisted reminder of his true love.

When he finished, Arthur felt dizzy. And once he saw Alfred again the blossoms returned, making him feel so sick and depressed Arthur couldn’t even stare at those blue eyes anymore.

[waywardimpalawriter]

Unstoppable

Unstoppable

Summary: He thought love was something for other people, never him. Finding out how wrong he is at the most difficult time.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Setting: middle of Season 8, sequel to Here come’s Goodbye

Characters: Dean, Reader, Sam (mentioned)

Word count: 2,168 (with lyrics)

Warnings: feelings

Notes: Notes: written for the Album Challenge by @mrs-squirrel-chester. I chose Rascal Flatts Unstoppable.  The song is Unstoppable as well. Also this is a part two of three that will be worked into with this challenge.

Forever:

@winters-buck

@angryschnauzer

@marvel-lucy

@feelmyroarrrr

@fandommaniacx

@thetalesofmooseandsquirrel

@supernaturallymarvellous

Supernatural:

@smoothdogsgirl

@aquabrie

@spnfanficpond

@aprofoundbondwithdean

  Yeah yeah yeah, hey

So, so you made a lot of mistakes Walked down the road a little sideways Cracked a rib when you hit the wall Yeah, you've had a pocket full of regrets Pull you down faster than a sunset Hey, it happens to us all

You never truly know how much you miss something or in this case someone until their not there. Till you spend a year in purgatory without the comforts of a bed, food, water and the arms of the one person who helps you sleep through the night.

This problem currently plagued Dean Winchester as he tossed and turned, lumpy mattress doing nothing to help him sleep. Nightmares those old and new, making slumber a non-existent entity as his feet hit to carpeted floor of yet another motel room in some small one horse town, hand running through his sweat dampened hair. He’s a grown ass man for cryin’ out loud, he didn’t need you to lay with him so he could sleep. Yet, here is he wide awake, sweat dripping down his face and all he keeps seeing, feeling is purgatory. All he wants is to snuggle up close to you and sleep, dreaming of a life where the two of you didn’t have to fight every tooth and nail. Shock smacked him clear across the forehead with that idea. When had things gone from just helping each other sleep to something deeper?

The tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand up as if someone is watching him. Knowing he’d been quiet so not to wake you nor Sam. Yet as he turns, expecting both of you still asleep, only to lock eyes, sympathy and understanding writing in those deep orbs he’s missed though can’t bring himself to tell you.

“Nightmare?” simple question, one asked a few dozen times and only answered with a slight nod. Patting beside you, offering up your arms to rest in, only to have Dean turn away and you stare after him not understanding.

You’ve seen it many times since his return. Not wanting to accept the comfort of being held, no the ear to listen, no matter how many times you’ve offered. It seems purgatory took away the man you fell in love with and bought back this shell of a man.

A deep sigh leaves your lips as you rose from the bed, to silently pad over to Dean’s side, kneeling so your eye level with the hunter. Whose focus is on a spot in the carpet that looks years old.

When the cold hard rain just won't quit And you can't see your way out of it

You find your faith has been lost and shaken You take back what's been taken Get on your knees and dig down deep You can do what you think is impossible Keep on believing, don't give in It'll come and make you whole again It always will, it always does Love is unstoppable

“You don’t have to do this alone Dean, me and Sam,” you pause when he scuffs at you still refusing to look in your eyes. “Yeah he didn’t look for you and that sucks it does. But if I remember right you made a pack that if anything were to happen to the other that you’d live a normal life, no searching.”

Finally glancing at you, seeing the hurt written in those dark emerald eyes, “He still could’ve looked something anything other than what he did.” It’s on the tip of his tongue to ask if you had, though Dean doesn’t know if he wants the answer to that question.

“True he could’ve,” reaching out to cup his stubbled jaw, brushing your thumb along the apple of his cheek. “I tried to ask him to join me, but before I knew what happened, he’s gone to. Running off like a man possessed. I figured he felt lost, like a child only much bigger, you were gone, Cas and even Kevin. I was just a reminder of what he’d lost.”

Dropping your hand to rest on his knee, Dean missed the warmth it gave to his cheek, the comfort to his soul.  “You,” no he wouldn’t get his hopes up, wouldn’t ask the question that burned the tip of his tongue. Curiosity be damned he didn’t need that answer destroying him.

“What?” seeing he wasn’t going to finish his sentence you rose, giving him a little shrug. He should’ve known you would look for him having hunted, fought, slept, ate and lived alongside him for more years than you could remember. Not to mention falling head over heels in love with the man. “Thought I wouldn’t look for you Winchester?”

Head snapping up to see that you’ve turned your back to him, heading towards the large window letting in street lamp light. Studying your posture, ridged and stiff, even with a slight slump to your shoulders, confusing beating out a rhythm in his mind as to why you’d wasted your time.

Before he could stop himself, the word leaves his lips that get bitten with anxiety, “Why?”  

Scoffing, arms wrapped around your waist while peering out into the night, “Because.” Not a true answer that you could tell him, it’d expose feelings you weren’t sure could ever see the light of day or dark of night. Feeling that they would never be returned as anything more than sisterly or friend love.

Hands grip your shoulders tightly turning to face the curious emerald gaze you tried to avoid. “How about explaining to the rest of the class what’s running around in that gorgeous head of yours sweetheart,” two fingers lightly tapped the side of your head, before sliding down the side of your face softly, to rest on your shoulder.

“Doesn’t matter,” pulling away you head back towards the bed, only to be stopped by the same callused, gently hand taking a hold of your hand.

“You want me to pour my soul out to you Dr. Phil, but not return the favor when asked a simple question.” Unknowingly starting the interrogation though the tables have turned and it’s Dean who’s demanding the answers this time instead of you. “Why did you look for me?”

Eyes rolling hard enough to hurt, though you stood your ground staring right back, “We’re family Dean that means you don’t give up even when one disappears.”

Partly true though you’ve never seen Dean as a brother, Sam yes but never Dean. There’d always been something more with him. Maybe because the way he took to caring for everyone but himself, or the fact that he rather let the blame, the weight of the world, rest squarely on his broad shoulders than anyone self. His selflessness, bravery, humor, charisma and compassion when the need arose for such an emotion all attribute’s that you’ve seen and cataloged as ones you want in a mate. So many good qualities and yet you knew first hand that Dean only saw himself as a solider in this weird war with evil. You wished he could see himself through your eyes, to see how you viewed him.

While you studied him, Dean returned the quiet examination, wondering how you meant family. If it’s the same way he felt or did you just see him as the brother who drove you crazy? For the first time in his life Dean’s scared of a woman, of the feelings he hasn’t had since Lisa, this time stronger. The last thought has him shaking his head, dropping your hand and stepping away. Letting himself fall in love with you, it’d mean disaster mainly for his heart and for your life.

Love, it can wear the ring of stone Bring you back to being born again oh, it's a helping hand when you need it most A lighthouse shining on the coast That never goes dim

When your heart is full of doubt And you think that there's no way out

    Frustration coursing through your veins, wanting to hit Dean up side his gorgeous head, but reframing from doing so, “Why is it so hard for you to believe that I’d search for you?”

“I’m not worth the time Y/N,” voice low and soft, eyes darting towards the second bed, seeing that Sam’s still out cold avoiding looking directly at you. Not wanting you to see the truth in his eyes. He knows you’re too good for him.  

Solid punch to his gut knocks Dean backwards a few steps clutching his stomach, head whipping up as fire dancing in those emerald eyes. “You deserve that Winchester,” you hiss crossing arms and glaring.

“What the hell? Why’d you sucker punch me?”

Shaking your head, Y/H/C hair flying around your face, “For being so stupid, for not seeing that someone cares about you. For thinking you aren’t worth the time and afford. Sometimes I just want to kick your ass.”

Hands up making sure you weren’t going to hit him again. “Easy tiger you don’t have to take out your sexual frustrations on me,” trying to make you smile, only to receive a frown.  

Rolling your eyes, “You wish,” turning again this time making it to your side of the bed. Plopping down and trying to get comfortable on your side, “Go to bed Dean, you need sleep.”

Watching you a realization smacked him hard that he wouldn’t ever find someone like you nor would he be able to keep from giving his heart to you, especially when you already had it. Shaking his head, Dean slipped into bed as well lying on his back, to stare up at the ceiling.

You find your faith has been lost and shaken You take back what's been taken Get on your knees and dig down deep You can do what you think is impossible Keep on believing, don't give in It'll come and make you whole again It always will, it always does Love is unstoppable

Like a river keeps on rolling Like the north wind blowing Don't it feel good knowing, yeah

You know he’s gonna be stubborn about the nightmares, about feeling unworthy, these thoughts run through your mind as you lay there back to Dean. Chewing your bottom lip one part of you wanting to turn over and cuddle against him. The other saying just leave him alone, he doesn’t care about you that way. Listening carefully, wondering if he fell back asleep almost daring to ask, but you don’t.

Instead, you slowly turn first to your back, peeking quickly over at Dean. Seeing his eyes closed, arms under his head, steady up and down motion of his breathing. It takes you another ten minutes before you manage to roll to your side facing him. Feeling the heat radiating off his body, warming yours, as eyes flicker from face to chest and back again a few times. Working up the courage to finally slide over resting your left arm over his stomach, right under the pillow you’ve dragged with you.

You stay stiff for five long, hard minutes as Dean hasn’t moved to push you away, therefore you take that as a good sign and snuggle into his side. Content sigh leaving you lips while using his left pec as a pillow for your head. You’d never admit it to anyone, but during Dean’s disappearance sleep rarely came easy for you and many nights you’d taken to just staying up, staring at the stars wondering where Dean is and if he’s safe.

Thinking the man in question is asleep, “I will always search for you Dean,” swallowing harshly finger tips drawing light patterns over his shirt covered torso. “I can’t lose you again, I need you,” sighing, eyes getting heavy as sleep starts to take over you think your feeling things when a pair of lips kiss the crown of you head, one arm circling and pulling you tight against his side.

Still and silent Dean just rested his chin atop your head, the words you whispered running through his mind. Could it be that he’s found the prefect woman, had her all along and just didn’t see it? Small voice, sounding eerily like Sam’s, says yes. Wrapping his other arm around you, cuddling your body closer, figured he’d get the right answers in the morning or at least the decisions would come easier, or so he hoped. For now Dean will bask in the comfort of your arms, warmth of your words and the unstoppable love you give him without even saying it.  

You find your faith has been lost and shaken You take back what's been taken Get on your knees and dig down deep You can do what you think is impossible Keep on believing, don't give in It'll come and make you whole again It always will, it always does Love is unstoppable

Love is unstoppable So you made a lot of mistakes Walked down the road a little sideways Love, love is unstoppable

[char27martin]

Elevate Your Story – Push Your Hero Off a Cliff

Is your story falling flat? Jeanne Veillette Bowerman shares tips on how to elevate your story by literally, or not so literally, pushing them off a wall.

Time to have one of those raw, brutal, hit-you-upside-your-head moments about your writing. You might want to get comfortable. Maybe lay down on my therapy couch… go ahead. I won’t bite… but I can’t promise it won’t hurt.

Oh no, don’t worry, I didn’t mean physically hurt. Chill.

Now close your eyes and relax. No peeking.

Ready?

Tell me about the protagonist in your current script?

Ah, a nice girl, huh? Sure, I know the type. Girl next door who’s a little socially awkward, but so damn cute the boys can’t resist her.

Sounds… nice.

Oh no, nice is good. Unless it’s boring.

You heard me. B-O-R-I-N-G.

I don’t want to follow the girl next door for two hours while she tries to figure out if she should part her hair on the left or the right, or worse, only part it the way Johnny Stud Muffin likes it.

What’s that? But you like her, and it’s your story?

Then maybe we need to explore why you are writing someone so safe.

When I think of the girl-next-door character, my mind moves to a quote from Heavyweight Champ Tyson Fury, “You have about as much charisma as my underpants.” Never heard of Fury? He’s a kick-ass boxer with no filter on his thoughts, a “traveler” – the Gypsy King. He shaves his head, so there’s no part to worry about.

He’s not boring. Him, I want to follow. Sure, he’s an unpredictable, misogynist jerk, but that’s precisely why a story with a character like him in it would keep me turning the page.

What would he do? How would he react in any given circumstance? I haven’t a clue, and that’s the point. That alone would make me keep reading.

So, why aren’t you writing someone more interesting than the girl next door? Maybe you are. Then bravo. But are you pushing her far enough? Are you pushing her to the point she might just jump off a cliff at any given moment?

If not, why not?

Whenever a writer protects their characters, it’s really them protecting themselves. Sure, we’ve created these fictional people, but every character carries a little part of us inside. We identify with them, even our villains. So if we push them, we’re pushing ourselves, and poking at wounds, sometimes so fresh they’re barely scabbed over.

I have a story like that. One so sinister, twisted and painful I had to let it simmer for a couple of years until I was ready to take it to the darkest places imaginable. But in order to do that, I have to rip open my own wounds so far my guts will hemorrhage all over the page.

Scary? Hell, yes. But my point is, if we as writers can’t tap into our own issues and push our characters to places we are uncomfortable going, what’s the point? We write to make people FEEL.

You can’t make an audience feel if you are hiding behind the therapy couch, afraid of your own feelings.

So let’s take the little girl next door. Who is she? What is it about her you relate to? What’s her wound? What emotional scar does she need to get past in order to succeed? What do you need to get past in order to write her the way your story deserves?

Come; sit on the therapy couch. Explore your mind and heart and find a way to be brave enough to push that girl off an emotional cliff into the unknown.

Think of it this way; TV and film today pushes boundaries like never before. Take the pilot episode of Game of Thrones (SPOILERS ahead for those ten people who have never watched it). That last scene, when little Bran Stark spies twin siblings Jaime Lannister and Queen Cersie having sex, what did you think would happen next? Maybe Bran would sneak back down the wall, unseen? Or Jaime’s humanity would outweigh his fear of his affair with his own sister being discovered and he’d save Bran from slipping off the wall?

But did you expect this…

  Jaime Lannister is no girl next door. He is ruthless. That scene hooked me into the series. That one scene. That one character. I needed to know what Jaime Lannister would do next, why he was so heartless, why he’s having sex with his twin sister, and if Bran Stark would survive the fall. If George R.R. Martin was willing to toss an 8-year-old boy off a wall, what else would he do to his characters?

Gives me chills just thinking about that split second his mind came up with that scene, sitting at his keyboard wondering, “Should I?” Damn. He must have had a moment of being pretty damn uncomfortable.

Do that. Be uncomfortable with your choices. Push the boundaries. Push your characters farther. Create a world for them that keeps a reader turning the page. Push them off a cliff. That is your new bar for writing.

More articles by Jeanne Veillette Bowerman

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