#like i feel like i live in the same place and work in the same place and haven’t gotten anywhere

[thewitchblue]

"Did you join the fucking military?"

Jason asked Tim, who blinked blankly at Jason until he noticed what he was holding. Jason was holding your military tags, which Tim's selfishly kept to himself when you "lost" them. Technically, he stole the tags from you, but you can always get a new set. You'll be matching! He did feel a little bad that you got in trouble with leadership when you asked for new ones, but he's sure you'd be fine without the old pair.

"No."

Tim didn't elaborate further. The tags have practically lived on him since he stole them. He only ever takes them off for showers, which is how Jason found them. Jason scoffed,

"Good. You'd be a shit soldier. Why do you have military dog tags?"

Tim tried to take them back, but Jason held them above his head. Your dog tags are air jailed until he gets answers. Jason needed to know.

"Answer or I'll find a place to smelt them down."

Tim knew he was serious by the gleam in Jason's eyes, so he said,

"My girlfriend is in a special forces unit for the marines. She refuses to tell me which unit she's in, but I've narrowed it down."

Jason was too stunned to notice that he dropped your dog tags. Tim snatched them off the floor and put them safely around his neck again and tucked under his shirt where they belonged. He likes to say that you're closer to his heart with your tags under his shirt with the bonus of protecting him from any potential bullets. Even when you are gone, you promise that you will always come back. He's used to your deployment and the limbo you have him in.

"When do I get to meet her?"

Dick said from the doorway. He was passing by and overheard. His little Timmy has a girlfriend? When did that happen?

Tim touches the tags while thinking of what to reveal and what to keep private. He's never been good at respecting privacy, but he has been learning for you. He knows to keep anything you say to him a secret, but what about other things relating to you?

"Whenever she wants. I'm not her keeper."

Tim answered vaguely. He's flying to see you soon, and he doesn't want to be followed. You've been together for three years, but you met kind of awkwardly. You tackled him to the ground and wrestled with him after mistaking him for one of your friends.

Your willpower eventually overcame his reflexes, and he stopped struggling. You had laughed when you pinned him down and ruffled his hair in victory. It was embarrassing to him how quickly he submitted to you. He watched your eyes widen when you noticed he's not your friend. You took in the scene too slowly. You, straddling who you had assumed was your friend with your hands pinning his wrists to both sides of his head, and Tim blushing underneath you. Tim didn't know how to react either, so you both stared at each other before you started awkwardly apologising.

Tim was a mess, but he was an adorable mess. His hair was ruffled, and his clothes were wrinkled, but there were no bruises nor any scrapes. You were always careful to leave no injuries. He was breathless, just staring at you with wide eyes and a shyness that almost made you smile. He was so cute that you wanted to squish him.

You quickly got off of him once you realised how long you've been staring at him. You pulled him up from the ground when he didn't make a move to stand by himself and actually almost fell right back to the ground because his legs refused to work for him. He was understandly stunned.

This is awkward. How do you explain the tradition of you fighting your friend on sight? Your friend does the exact same thing with you. It was excellent training for your deployment to fight each other on sight without any prep. Enemy soldiers aren't going to reveal themselves before attacking, so surprise attacks help keep your reflexes sharp.

"Sorry. I thought you were someone else."

He couldn't get the image of you pinning him down out of his head. Nobody has ever pinned him down so intimately. You were gentle. Your hold would have been easy to break out of if he didn't stop struggling. It was like you only played until one of you got pinned, and then the fight was over.

Tim was still trying to remember how to function. What does he do? What does he say? He's all shaken up. He had to look away from you. He managed to say,

"It's fine."

He tried to sound like it was no big deal, but it sounded strained. He was pretending like the wrestling really took it out of him by fake panting, but you both knew better. You narrowed your eyes suspiciously, but pat his back and attempted to leave.

Attempted, being the key word. Tim caught your wrist loosely and nervously said,

"I, uh... would you... Can we... Let's... I'm sorry."

He didn't have the words with you looking at him like that. He was nervous. You smiled softly at him, and he forgot how to speak entirely. He could only stare until you took the initiative and asked him to go on a date before you leave for boot camp. He nodded, and that was that. You gave him your number and continued your run like nothing happened.

The date went amazing. It was a bit unconventional as you took him to a paint gun fight after showing him the gun and explaining the rules. You grinned every time he landed a hit and even wiped away the paint that splattered onto him with a fond expression. You opened up about the fear you have about joining the military, but your desire to help. You want to make a difference, however small or large that may be.

You kissed the bruising wounds softly and banaged the bleeding ones before he could even reach for the first aid kit you brought. You helped him up with a wild grin, and he kissed you until the adrenaline ran out. The guns were empty, and you both were messes, but your hearts were full, and Tim can safely say he hates paintballing. You took him to see a movie like a normal person next date.

Jason and Dick watched their brother soften further and further as he went down memory lane. Dick was ecstatic and already plotting to meet you, but Jason was confused why anybody would date Tim. Yeah, he's had his fair share of partners, but he's surprised every time he gets a date, let alone a girlfriend.

You were his mystery girl, and their family loves a good mystery.

[beuxwhoyouare]

Never Wanted Kids

Brooklyn looked up at her boyfriends domineering stature. A cold look remained on Louis’ face…except it wasn’t Louis giving Brooklyn the cold shoulder.

“I don’t know why you followed me to the gym BROOKLYN. You’re pregnant and can’t do shit. You’re just holding me back from getting a good pump. Kinda like that night we got you knocked up.” Louis taunted the pregnant woman sitting on the bench in front of him.

“Brook…you don’t have to be like this. I’m sorry. I’ve learned my lesson…just please give me my body back.” The docile women replied quietly not trying to give away their truth out loud to avoid looking absolute insane.

The pair had been dating for years and Brooklyn always made it clear she never wanted kids, but that never stopped Louis from finding ways to go in unprotected. When that wasn’t enough he switched out her birth control until one day he got what he wanted. Brooklyn was devastated and rightfully felt violated. Something snapped that day for her.

He wanted a kid so badly then she was gonna give it him. Days turned to weeks turned to months of research before she finally found the pieces to exact her revenge. One night she prepare the ritual while Louis slept, while the results weren’t immediately apparent Brooklyn went to sleep that night hopeful the next day would be the response to the nights’ magical ceremony.

That brings us to today. The woman 7 months pregnant woke up with none of the aching back pains she’d been feeling but instead an aggressive sexual vigor. As she swung her feet off the bed she was propelled up by a foreign strength.

She didn’t need a mirror to confirm the new truth she lived. She grimaced with satisfaction knowing she was done with the misery. She went to the restroom to go examine the body she long observed but now could fully take advantage of. As she callously took off any clothing she was wearing she stood in front of the master bedroom en suite mirror and began stroking the very thing that impregnated her.

She knew the show would be in eye line for “Brooklyn” when she woke up. Adding grunts and moans to put on an even more primal display of the swap that just occurred. She could feel a climax coming when a scream came from her side. The realization that her boyfriend was aware of his situation and what was going on in front of her was enough to do the trick.

Rope after rope coated the mirror and nearby sink. She got some on her finger and satisfactorily walked out of the restroom nude to greet her new baby momma. As a shocked Louis tried to question what Brooklyn did she silenced him with the finger she wiped the mirror with. Like he forced her to do what he wanted she channeled that energy now.

“Lick it clean.” Brooklyn demanded.

As Louis tried to protest and move away, Brooklyn used all his former strength to keep her in place. He was stuck and he knew it. Resigned to his current situation he obliged.

Louis continued to beg and plead with her to give him back his body but that didn’t stop Brooklyn from going to the gym and test her new body. If he wanted a kid he could have it but that doesn’t mean she was going to sacrifice the life she wanted to have. Freedom, youth, and now….it may be different but so much sex. She may not have the same equipment but she still have things anyone can work with. Looks like she’s going to make ‘Louis’ bisexual now. She wasn’t going to let the limits of one abusive man stop her. She thought as she gallivanted across the gym restroom half naked after her post-workout shower.

All the energy spent crying and pleading forced Louis to crash once the couple returned home. Plenty of time for Brooklyn to pack a go bag and leave this chapter behind. Being ripped away from her life sucked but not as much as having that kid wouldn’t have.

[normalaboutmediaa]

I've seen a few other people mention it but I do really resent the idea that Mark and Gemma's marriage was 'failing'. Like, bro idk how to tell you this but relationships ebb and flow when you're in them for long enough. There are rough patches, and what makes relationships strong is being able to work through them, especially when it's something as big and scary as pregnancy loss and infertility. From what I can tell they were trying to do just that, they were working through those stages when it all got cut off.

Gemma endured a horrific trauma- the loss of her child, the pain, the sense of failure and likely internal questions about if it was her fault somehow. But Mark lost his child too. No, he didn't have to go through the same visceral experience with it that she did but he was still grieving, and we all know what Mark Scout does with grief. He buries it. So yeah he was working a lot, probably drinking a lot, but they were still holding each other on Christmas. There was still love there, still something they could have salvaged.

Also, he *loves* Gemma. It was agonizing to watch her go through this disappointment over and over again while also feeling like he had to bury and ignore his own feelings and disappointment. Was he an asshole for saying 'maybe we should stop' like that? Yeah, absolutely. But I think it was coming from a very real place of 'This is putting so much stress and heartache into our lives, maybe we need to try and accept that it might not happen for us.'

So like. Yeah I really resent the notion that their relationship was somehow already over before she disappeared.

[yelenasbraid]

JOE BURROW — curing nostalgia

summary — post-grad is lonely. your boyfriend attempts to help.

warnings — fem!reader, angst, fluff, self-indulgent because post grad is slowly killing me, some random names used for friends, so sorry if i use yours on accident!

note — sorry for being MIA. depression has been kicking my ass ugh :( anyways! i’m back! and this is to help push y’all over while i’m finishing maintaining professionalism part 6.

tags — @starsinthesky5 @joeyburrrow @joeyfranchise @jburrgf @wickedfun9 @hotburreaux @softburrow @kazsbrckkers @iosivb9 @ebsmind @burrowdarling @blairsworld22 (comment/send an ask if you want to be added!)

YOU FLIPPED THROUGH PHOTO ALBUMS. The pictures of you and your friends, the memories that rushed to the surface. You gently lined the page with your finger, remembering the moments illustrated on the pages. You remembered loving physical photos in case something happened and all of your digital photos were erased. You cherished these moments, and you wished you could go back and live that life again. You lived so far from your friends, living on different paths. You were proud of them, but you wanted to see them.

Life in cincinnati was bliss. You lived with your boyfriend, and you made friends with some of the WAGs, but nothing filled the hole that was left after college. You shoved it aside for a couple of years, but every now and then, seeing your college football team play, it would churn up memories. The cups of overpriced alcohol. The upsets. The hugs from friends. You still had the jersey your mom bought you for your birthday one year.

But you were living a different life, now. Your friends knew that, too. You didn’t tell Joe, though. What would you tell him? That everytime you drove on the highway, you got flashbacks to driving to school? That you still grieved the loss of your college years?

You turned a page as footsteps came into the living room. You looked up and saw Joe walking in, sitting next to you. He looked comfortable with his sweats and his baby pink sweatshirt. His eyes were soft, holding yours in his.

“What’s that look for?” you asked him, a smile blossoming on your face.

“You only pull out the photo album when you’re feeling nostalgic,” he gestures to the album. He understood how hard it was for you. After college, you uprooted and moved back home, and then moved in with him. Because of the distance, you’ve not seen your friends in a long time. Your schedules weren’t exactly on the same timeline either. He knew you thrived off of your friendships. He also knew you missed them, and it’s been especially hard.

“Yeah well, guess i’ve been feeling nostalgic,” you joked. It’s only been two years since you graduated, but it still felt weird. You should be back there, with your friends, eating sappy dining hall food and too-sweet campus coffee. It didn’t help you still followed your college’s football team on Instagram, silently watching and hoping for wins, despite not being there.

Joe leaned against you, gently placing his chin on your shoulder, looking over and observing the pictures. He remembered some of these moments, he remembered you telling him about them. One picture in particular stuck out to him, the one with you at the coffee table in your apartment, homemade tacos in front of you and your friends.

flashback

“I’m so nervous, Joey, are they going to like them?” You were on the phone with Joe while ground beef browned in a pan.

“Y/N, babe, you’re an amazing cook. They’d be crazy not to like your food. Plus it’s tacos, you can’t go wrong with tacos,” he assured you. Doing long distance was hard, but you made it work.

“You’d be surprised,” you chuckled, continuing to stir the ground beef around.

“Your heart for your friends is evident, love, and they should see that over whether or not they like your tacos,” he told you. Joe saw the heart you gave to everyone, and he was lucky enough to get just a slice of that.

“You’re right you’re right,” you sighed after a few moments. There was a knock at your apartment door, and you turned to walk to the door.

“Sounds like your guests are here,” he hummed.

“They are, I’ll talk to you after?” you suggested before you unlocked and opened the door.

“Of course, I need to know how those tacos tasted. Send me pictures!” he told you, sounding like his mother.

“I will,” you giggled, opening your apartment door and greeting your friends with open arms.

end of flashback

“Have you talked to any of them recently?” Joe asked as you turned a page.

“I talked to Leslie the other day about one of our other friend’s engagement, but I haven’t spoken to her since,” you replied. Leslie was one of your closest friends, but she worked hours away in a different state. Getting together was hard; you could barely manage phone calls.

“You should plan a trip to see them,” he suggested. As much as Joe loved coming home to you, seeing you here with him, and just being around you, he couldn’t deny you the human need for friendship. What kind of person would he be if he did that? A bad one, that’s what.

“I just don’t know when. They all have very different schedules and I’ve tried to get with them, but it never works,” you sighed, closing the book. It sounded pathetic, but you yearned for the friends you made in college. You weren’t diminishing the friendships you made in ohio, especially with some of the other WAGs, but you didn’t have as deep of a relationship with them as you did with your college friends.

Joe wrapped you in his arms, bringing you into his lap. You cuddled into him, taking in his scent and his touch. You loved him, and you loved being around him. He was your best friend all while being your boyfriend, but there were some needs he couldn’t fulfill. He knew that, and you knew that.

As he held you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, an idea came to life in his head. What if your friends came to you?

a few days later

You shuffled around the kitchen, your fingers flitting over the brownies you were making. Joe told you that his parents were joining you for dinner, so you decided to make brownies.

You spread the chocolate concoction in a glass, buttered pan, humming along to soften music that played through your phone. The kitchen was warm, the heat prickling your skin as you slid the pan of brownies into the oven.

Just then a knock echoed through your home. You wiped your hands on a towel as Joe stood from the couch.

“I got it,” he grinned. It was the kind of grin that crinkled his eyes, that lit up his face. He loved his parents, but his brightened expression told you that he had something up his sleeve.

You watched the entryway wearily, your view obscured by a wall. Your ears strained for voices, the door opening and voices sounding through the hallway.

“She’s in the kitchen,” you heard Joe whisper. Why was he whispering? Your heart slammed against your chest, your palms sweaty with your nerves. What the hell was going on?

He wasn’t the one to come back into your field of vision. A shorter woman was, and your eyes widened. Your body froze as Leslie’s eyes lit up, as she ran to you, enveloping you in a bone-crushing embrace.

Your eyes brimmed with tears as you saw the rest of your college roommates file in. You wrapped your arms around Leslie, your chest stuttering with the breaths that you took. Warmth spread over your body, your limbs numb from the sheer joy that lit your face.

Your friends were back. After years of being apart and seeing each other through a screen, you finally had them again. Your other roommates encased you, the four of you standing together in the kitchen. Their arms were a fortress, a place to go for refuge. You held onto them, and as you pulled away, Leslie held your cheeks in her hands.

“Didn’t think you’d be living in a mansion,” she joked, and you laughed. You wiped your watery eyes, giving individual embraces to each of your friends. Each embrace was intentional, filled with your longing and a display of how badly you’d missed them. You finally pulled away from them, wiping your eyes with shaky hands.

“This is crazy,” you chuckled, feeling tears burn your eyes again. These were your friends, your people, and they’d found their way back to you.

“What’s crazier is me getting a DM from your boyfriend a few days ago,” another friend, Sam, spoke up. Your eyes narrowed, intrigue dawning on your flushed features.

“What?”

“Yeah, Joe messaged us on Instagram a couple days ago asking if we were available to come visit. Luckily we were, so he booked us flights and we found ourselves in a castle of a home,” Leslie spoke up, making you chuckle. Your eyes flicked to Joe, who leaned against the doorway. He’d definitely snapped photos, something else to add to your photo album. But he was just happy to see you happy, to see the tears in your eyes from sheer joy.

You parted from your friends, walking up and throwing your arms around Joe. He welcomed the embrace, wrapping his arms around you. He buried his face into your neck, his heart clenching in his chest.

“Thank you,” you whispered into his neck, your heart warm and steady. Your stomach was full, but it growled with the desire for brownies.

“Don’t thank me,” he hummed against your neck. He pulled away, cupping your face into his hands. His eyes were soft, filled with affection and a warmth that only he had for you. He kissed your forehead, letting his lips linger there.

“Go and have fun, sweetheart. I’ll be here when you come back,” he promised. Seeing joy fill your chest was something he’d never get tired of seeing. He’d never get tired of being the one to make you happy, even if he brought the joy to you. He knew you needed your people; he wasn’t the only important person in your life.

“Ok,” you smiled, the bubbles of excitement and a foreign yet familiar sensation of giddiness making you giggle. You kissed him sweetly on the lips before you returned to your friends. They had plenty of thoughts on your intimacy with your boyfriend, to which you blushed and argued back. Joe just watched for a moment, watching you indulge in the friends that made you.

He pushed off of the wall and walked up the stairs and into his office. He could hear your laughs from his office, and it only served to make him smile. He knew you’d always come back to him, but right now, he knew you needed your girls.

[pinkyqily]

ONLY YOURS - JUJU WATKINS X READER

Summary: Because of recent speculation, online, it makes you rethink your relationship with juju.

Warning: cursing, angst to fluff, reader bluffing, miscommunication from r

Author's note: this fic was requested by @atditsitzjt and I hope you enjoy reading this, we love Otto in this house, I just needed someone who juju is close to build up fic tension.

feedbacks are always welcome and happy readings readers 💐

To be honest, you had no reason to think that juju would cheat on you.

But overthinking is a bitch and that how you and juju found yourself in this messy position in you're relationship.

It all started with when you saw a comment about how juju is always with Otto and doesn't she have a girlfriend to go to.

That comment didn't bother you at all until the sudden change of your algorithm.

You started seeing post of people shipping them together, pictures that looked way too intimate.

how they are always together from practice to hanging outside of campus together.

You felt like your heart got twisted and toyed with. You waited until she would come over to your place to try and bring it up, not wanting to jump into conclusion yet wanting to give her the benefit of doubt.

Juju came around, and she could tell something was wrong, but she didn't want to push your buttons after the long day she had.

You both enjoyed each other company, but the sense of lingering tension was obviously in the air and if anyone was to enter the room they would most likely feel suffocated.

You were laying on your girlfriend as she scrolled through her phone on Instagram.

But you couldn't keep quite anymore and got off her, she looked at you a confused.

you cleared your throat to speak.

"So you and Otto hang out with each other a lot." You started with.

"Yeah, she's my best friend, you know that." She said.

"You guys are really close for best friend".

"What point are you trying to make?". She said, looking irritated.

"I'm gonna be straight with you, Juju are you cheatin-. Before you could finish you heard her cut you off. "Don't you finish that sentence, what made you come to this." The way she reacted caught you off guard.

"Oh, I'm sorry that my supposed girlfriend loves hanging out with her best friend more than her actual gf, that it has the internet speculating if you guys are dating".

"You have to be serious, you're getting your claims from delusional people on the internet?". She said looking really hurt by the not so accusation you put against her.

"Yeah because they make more sense than whatever your fucking saying juju".

"What can't you understand she's my best friend just because we're always together, means nothing to me." You heard her say, she tired grabbing your hands but you simply moved back creating more space between the two of you.

"But it does to me do you ever think about how I would feel huh, you don't see me always hanging out with my best friend like that". You told her getting upset that she couldn't understand your point of view.

"One she's been with me since day one, she works with the team too, so of course we're always gonna be at the same place two just because we're always together means nothing to me". She explained to you. Grabbing both your hands as she continued speaking

"You're my girlfriend, not her, the person I love and adore you make me feel all sorts of things when we're together."

You felt a little shakend, she was someone who was always straight foward but doesn't to pushy with it. You had nothing to say to her they only thing you could do was leave the living room.

where you both we're staying so you could get some air.

You felt like a huge asshole for doubting her. What type of partner accuses there significant other, onto of that you use the internet as some type of excuses just because of your insecurities instead of communicating with her.

Oh you felt bad, after what felt likes hours but was only a few minutes you went back inside after staying outside. Juju was just how you left her, she was sitting on the arm of the couch fidgeting with her fingers.

You stood in front of her, but there was still the lack of distance between two of you.

You started by saying

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have accused you like that I don't know what wrong with me everything people were saying just got to me". You told her.

"I'm not gonna lie, your accusations hurt me, especially when you know I would never do you like that." She said, pulling you closer as she laid her head on your shoulder.

After your conversation with her that night, you expected her not to stay over like she normally does but she did.

You're both laying down in bed you couldn't fall asleep yet.

"Baby, I just wanted you to know I'm really sorry, and I feel so stupid thinking about it." You said, thinking she fell asleep.

"It okay, just go back to bed mhm". You heard her say as she pulled you closer by your waist.

"Goodnight, I love you." You said to her as you slowly able to fall asleep and be at peace without your mind playing tricks on you.

"I love you too." She said her arms stil wrapped around your body.

[eclipixels]

I loved ur isagi work where he was jealous that kaiser kept flirting w the reader! Do u mind making a part 3? I don’t have any ideas but ur the writer so feel free to do whatever u want :)

Snapchat

Yoichi Isagi x Reader

Content: Blurb. Kaiser adds you on snap...

Wanings: slight ooc

[791 words]

      You’re in the kitchen, the warm scent of freshly baked cookies filling the air. You hum softly to yourself as you press down on the dough, rolling it into perfect little balls. It's a quiet afternoon, just you and Isagi. He’s in the living room, sprawled on the couch, aimlessly scrolling through your phone and taking goofy pictures of himself. You don’t mind, it’s kind of cute. Honestly, you trust him enough to go through your phone. And he trusts you the same way. It’s a no-judgment zone.

      You sneak a glance at him from the kitchen, catching him mid-pose. His face is scrunched in some overly dramatic expression, and you can’t help but smile at how ridiculous he looks. "You look like an idiot," you call out, knowing he can hear you.

      "You're just jealous because I look this good," he responds without missing a beat, holding up the phone to show you his latest masterpiece.

      You chuckle, shaking your head as you continue baking. Just as you’re about to place another tray in the oven, you hear him chuckle from the other room.

      Your notification sound pings, pulling his attention. He glances down, eyebrow raised in curiosity. It’s a Snapchat request. From Kaiser. What?

      Kaiser, wants to add you? The idea sends a little pang of jealousy through him, but he quickly shakes it off. You’d probably be mad he was entertaining Kaiser at all but he couldn’t help himself. He needed to know why Kaiser wanted to add you. So, he clicks “Accept,”

      A few moments later, a new snap pops up, and Isagi opens it with some hesitation. He almost chokes on his own breath when he sees what’s inside.

      It's Kaiser. Shirtless. Posing in front of a mirror, flexing his absurdly toned back muscles, a smug grin on his face as if to say, LoOk at thESe mUscLes, Y/n. AReN’t yOu iMprEsSEd?

      Isagi, now fully in his feelings, can’t help it. He’s irritated and annoyed. He takes a deep breath and, without thinking too much, snaps a picture of his middle finger. His thumb and forefinger are exaggeratedly posed, the camera angle making it look like a sarcastic, exaggerated gesture. He adds a caption. “Bitch, ain’t no one care ab your big back.”

      He hits send and watches, mouth set in a frown as he waits. But then, to his surprise, a new snap arrives from Kaiser.

      You peek at Isagi, who’s still glaring at your phone, looking more agitated than he should be. He opens the snap, and Kaiser’s reply is pure chaos. It’s another shirtless photo, but this time, he’s doing a backflip. Mid-air, looking like he’s defying gravity. He somehow finds a way to make his abs even more prominent as he flips, and the caption reads: "Nice try, Isagi, but you can’t out-muscle perfection."

      Isagi clenches his jaw, and without missing a beat, he snaps a photo of himself benchlifting more than what Kaiser can, with the caption, “Do you even lift, bro?🥱”

      It’s a showdown now.

      Kaiser’s snap arrives a few minutes later. This time, he’s holding up a protein shake and looking way too pleased with himself. The caption: "This is my breakfast, Isagi. What’s yours? Probably something weak like cereal. You couldn’t handle this shit."

      Isagi gets ready to take another snap when his eyes fall on you. He turns to you, grinning slyly despite the mess he’s in. "He started it, Y/n," he says, but you’re already holding your stomach from laughing at the absurdity of it all.

      He quickly snaps a photo of his own, showing a huge fucking steak, completely lean, sizzling on the pan. “I get my protein straight from the source.”

      Your phone buzzes as Kaiser sends one final snap.

      It’s a photo of him with a dog. A cute one, and he’s looking at the camera with a completely fake look of innocence. “Just letting you know, Isagi. I’m also a dog person. I’m every lady’s dream guy.”

      “Yeah, we can tell you’re a dog guy with the lack of pussy you get.” Isagi snaps, holding up the poor cat you guys both adopted a while ago. The poor kitty had no idea what was going on.

      He throws the phone on the couch and leans back, still laughing. “That guy is seriously a piece of work,” he says.

      You watch him for a second before grinning. Ten out of ten rage bait. "Yeah, but you kind of took the bait, didn't you?"

      He sighs dramatically and flops back, "I swear... this is so not over."

      And before you can say anything, he grabs your phone again and, without hesitation, snap a photo of both of you together.

      The caption? “Fuck yo backflips, I give backshots.”

[walnutcookie]

soooo, what’s this new stars from the mind AU you cooking? I saw it when I was zooming through the Dandy’s World tumblr search. It’s def another really cool aesthetic vibe type AU as I can see.

AHH I NEED TO KEEP WORKING ON SFTM... This AU is much less closed off, i dont care to keep it spoiler free like i do with tower of souls so uh. Im gonna be honest i dont feel like typing it all out rn, ill make more infodump posts later but for now here take my poorly articulated discord messages (copied and pasted/screenshotted)

so. In this au delilah does Weird fuckin experiments to make the cartoon characters that live in arthurs mind into real beings YAAAAYY

the toons work in a theater where they perform all the shows that arthurs always dreamed of!!! Its meant to be an educational place for kids of course heehee

there ARE TWISTEDS IN THIS AU unlike tower of souls.. need to design all of the characters and their twisted forms but the difference is that astro is the one to cause all of it this time

uhhm. if youve read my characterizations for arthur, delilah, dandy, and astro in tower of souls its important to note thats how i characterize them generally, i just talk about them in the context of tower of souls more because it makes the au more interesting to me. Theyre the same in this au and also my headcanons for regualr dandys world teehee

ive always liked to imagine that dandy caused the ichor incident in canon dw out of boredom because he thinks that things have gotten stale. and also because he wanted power, he wanted to turn the tables on creation and creator and basically just say "fuck you look at what I can do!!! i have so much power i can make us toons so much better" …. i hc that astro was like. Different path same result. if dandy hadnt done it first, astro would have done the same thing THEYRE FOILS TO EACH OTHER BUT THEYRE ALSO PARALLELS!!!! however astro is motivated by pure paranoia. Fear of the unknown like space… hes terrified of how powerless he feels, he doesnt like how little control he has in the universe and it makes him feel helpless, so he was planning to do the same thing dandy was also planning and cause everyone to turn twisted so he could be powerful enough to protect himself (and by extension his friends)

This au is the same way except astro did it first. obligatory astro antagonist au YAAAY!!!!! Hence why astro is big and scary <3 i still need to design twisted dandy

note that im still kind of building the AU so im not sure how the lore would go quite yet i just have a bunch of scrambled thoughts HELP

(cringe ahead beware)

and heres the designs again for those who havent seen them

[evilminji]

Had another Si-Oc thought >.>

My standard "you know what Would Be Cool?" Musings...

Getting reborn, as you do, ending up Force Sensitive, as can only be the case. Because really... how ELSE would you soul end up there? CHANCE? Force ghosts are a PROVEN thing! We KNOW that the Force sometimes just... deals in souls.

Ffs, it MADE A BABY.

Yes, there was Sith interference there. But that doesn't chance the fact that it went? "Eh, good enough. I'll take the chance and run with it. Thanks~☆ Mine Now~~☆ Bye~~~☆" And Chosen One'd that baby. Because ultimately? Before the plans of gods and men? The Force Laughs.

So like? Yeah. If there WAS to be a Reincarnator?

Probably the Force.

Congrats on the new, third (or second, depends on your species. Might be another number entirely, honestly. But we are averaging here so MOVE ON), Parent! They are very, very happy to see you! Love you as only a Primordial, Extradimensional, Timeless, Formless, All Pervasive, Orange-Blue Morality havin', Not-A-God Super-God CAN. Their Benevolence? Could be called another God's cruelty.

They don't MEAN too. They are just.... really, really Big. Infinite. Not organic or mortal. It's like trying to comprehend the limitations of an ant, living on a planet, circling a sun, in a GALAXY the size of a DUST MOTE. The fact that the Force can even come CLOSE? Is literally miraculous.

But of course... OC? Not the Chosen One. The favorite, special, "I have Important Things For You" child. Which.... turns out to actually? Be kinda great. The realize that quickly. Which of course, is followed by the logical follow up.

Anikin? Fuckin SCREWED. Because he IS the Favorite Child.

Oh... oh No. Oh Fuck, that is a CHILD.

How easy it is, to cast blame, to judge, when you can't FEEL the Force in your EVERYTHING. All the time. Every moment of every day. Beautiful but cacophonous, like a symphony of screaming. Like staring at the sun and never going blind. It still hurts. But it's so... so bright. So Beautiful.

Connection. To the universe itself. Soul deep and transcendent. You can feel that the universe loves you. That there is good in people. That Life itself is worth protecting. But at the same time? It is... it is so much.

Because you can FEEL the ugly too.

The greed. The hate. The suffering. Lights snuffed out, in dark places of despair. Selfish actions and deep cruelties, like barbed wire against the soul. Thorns that hook and drag. And... and you're supposed to use your words. Just... just ASK them to stop? And, What? Hope that they WILL?

It HURTS!

But pain only begets more pain. Cruelty, more cruelties still. And only the Sith, believe they can use FORCE, in any sense of the word, to change a persons nature. The Jedi build. Grow. They work together, with those who are willing, towards something better. Defend, those who can not protect themselves.

Balance and growth. Not fire and chains.

And Oc is pretty sure Anikin will agree. No one should ever be in chains. Dead maybe. Or in jail. But never, ever, in chains. (And no one ever said they were pacifists. Just not war mongers. Sometimes the only answer IS to kill your opponent. To respect their choice, but honor your commitments. Protect those you swore to protect.)

Of course... OC? Going through Jedi training. It's Pre-Anikin days. Both she and Obi-Wan are fuckin Smol. She's not even in his Creche clan. She's over here in the "wanders off, lost in their own thoughts" Chill AF Creche Clan. Not Mr. "May you Live In Interesting Times And Have Padawans JUST LIKE YOOOOOOOU" and Co., over in the... "Energetic" Creche Clan.

None of HER Creche-mates BIT people, Obi-Wan.

WE keep our fuckin teeth to ourselves, Kenobi!

So, obviously, THEY don't have a lifetime ban on the "look, don't touch" fragile plants meditation garden. Very Rich in the Force. Good for focusing. Peaceful, really. And Oc? Has the time and space? To Consider™ things. Experiment. Ponder Fandom theories. Long "lost" Cannon techniques. Maybe have one-sided chats with the Force.

.....finally get CURIOUS™.

And wonder... if? Since, you know, through the Force, she can encourage and discourage plants to grow? And somewhat control animals. Why not... micro-organisms? Say, Midi-chlorians? Force healing is all ready a thing! So the Force all ready CAN interact with the body. Effect it. Change it. What is this, but more?

Really, all she'd have to do is find them, within herself, right? They're already a part of her! Yet... not. Do they consider themselves a part of her? Or is it symbiosis? Yeah, everyone says it can't be done. Perhaps shouldn't be done. But, frankly? They said the same about a LOT of Force techniques over the years. Big leaps in progress scare the SHIT out of folks. Cause if you miss? A LOT of people can die gorey.

So she sits. Mediates. Looks. Smaller... and smaller.... and smaller....

Until she finds whispers. Humming. Chatter.

As though each and every blood cell in her body had a teeny, tiny, whispery little voice. All chattering together, talking and arguing and discussing. One great hive of progress and industry. Complaining about a lack of potassium... huh. She goes and gets some fruit. Eats it. Then settles back into meditation.

They are JOYOUS! Potassium! Yaaaaay! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

Well... what'd ya know... huh. Hello there? She tries. Only to get a whispery and very alarmed ( ˶°ㅁ°) !! BODY CAN TALKヽ(°〇°)ﾉ ‽‽‽ Y-Yeah... she can. (How are they doing that?) The conversation? Only gets more surreal from there. Filled with... a surprising number of kaomojis.

But! She DOES figure out? How to increase her Midi-chlorians count. (By asking. Supplying needed resources for the expansion.) And WITH it? He awareness blooms.

The headache is... awful. The little guys(genderless) are WAY to enthusiastic. Working way too fast. If she didn't check the next morning? They might have continued to increase, indefinitely, until her veins were SOLID midi-chlorian. They just want to HELP, you see. And if you want More? Then surely FAR TOO MUCH is better, right?

(She may have fucked up. Oh god. Ow. Fuck. OW.)

Eventually she figure it out. Only gives her healer in training Creche mate a... few near heart attacks. He'll TOTALLY forgive her! (He will not. What the FUCK OC. Experimental medical procedures?! On YOURSELF!? You're not even HEALER TRACK!!!)

So NOW? She can reliably do it to OTHERS.

Need a bit more Midi-chlorians? Nearly Jedi quality but juuuuust under that cut off? She can fix that. Come. Be a jedi. Everyone should be a jedi. In FACT~! Whoops! Oh hey. Looks like all these Midi-chlorian counters are fuckin broken! (They look perfect fi-)(Broken! :] Do Not question me) So when you find that Orohan Child in desperate need of love and care? Just bring um on back!

They're TOTALLY Force sensitive. You can just tell. It's the vibes. Look at their lil face. Vibes, man. Just hand um here. For... reasons. You go get the paperwork. A working tester. And~? Oh would you look at THAT! Perfectly within acceptance range! Neat. Called it again, didn't you, Master Koon? You really do have an eye for these things. Anyway~ off to get this little one settled~~☆ *adoring cooing noises at the baby*

Weird, huh, how there suddenly just... SO MANY random orphan babies that are force sensitive? How 'bout that >.> strangest thing.

Of course, it's a god damned open secret. Everyone KNOWS. How could they not? But? Like with most things? If they don't Officially Know™? They don't have to stop it. And it DOES help both the Force AND those kids. Can be reversed if they don't like it, later. (They asked. All hypothetical of course.) So OC is basically Temple bound, so she can receive any new kiddos. To... you know... Check Their Health, on the way to ACTUAL healers.

But she's ALSO waiting. And as her skill increases? She can FEEL midi-chlorians, easier and easier. Until it gets to the point? Where if she's bored and zoning out? Not even ture meditation anymore? She accidentally tunes into Midi-chlorian Live~☆ the talk show. (What's the latest gossip from bodies nearest to her? Oh? Your second spleen is acting funny? Better remember to tell him to get that chec-)

Palpatine can't hide SHIT. It's literally in his blood.

And MAD at him.

This is NOT what they're FOR. He's taking TERRIBLE care of his body! Fuck you! Fuck you, fuck you, FUCK YOOOOOOU! You want power? Choke on it, you-!!!!!

Holy shit. So THATS what Sith Midi-chlorians feel like. Oh my god. They... they are SO MAD. Like tiny wasps. That have been violently shaken in a jar. She's never used the word "seething" in reference to someone before... but like...? If they COULD stab him? Man would be a thick paste at this point.

She's not sure what facial expression she makes. But it sure is obvious. As is the blatant, horrified staring. And refusal to get near him. HE doesn't notice, being to busy with the powerful. But the Jedi sure as fuck do. Because THEY sent her? Out with a Shadow. You know... just in case.

Cause she literally can not be replaced.

She not High Ranked... she's just priceless. Equal sort of significance, but in a very quiet, Soft Power sort of way. She is, after all, single handedly? Reversing centuries of slow population decline. Her entire Line promises to be the next Yoda's line. Priceless and with far reaching significance. So obviously, they're making sure that shit stays locked down.

No one is to so much as BREATHE about this.

Not until her great-great-GREAT Grand Padawan has passed their Knight Trials so HELP US. We LEARN from our mistakes! Need we bring out the records? Times we got cocky? Sith and political fuckery!? No. Oc stays INVISIBLE. There is no war in Ba Sing Se! Move along!

So like? Why is Miss Midi-chlorian Sensor and Future of the Jedi... making that face? She's literally NEVER made that face. What sort of monster do you have to BE? Huh? Shadow asks, casual as fuck, like he's not a plotting plotter who's planing terrible things, what's up?

She tells him. Palpatine has RANCID vibes. His midi-chlorians fucking DISPISE him. She's literally never seen that before. In anyone. Didn't even know that was an option. They would gleefully kill him if they could.

.....senator Palpatine is Force Sensitive?

Yes.

.......Interesting™(Ominous Intent)

Says local Shadow, who is perhaps putting together some dots. May not be getting the correct picture. But is getting the Vibe. And boy howdy, he does NOT like the vibe. Has got himself some questions. Cause Mr "uwu I'm harmless" lil mask? Only holds up? If you're willing to believe him.

Shadows don't buy that shit. Shadows? Need receipts. Full character statements and an audit on the fucking hospital you were BORN AT. Every credit you picked up off the side walk, why, and where you spent it.

Give them your Secrets. Or they'll keep digging until they find them.

uwu Their ASS. Gonna tear this bitch APART.

......huh. So THIS is why you guys keep accidentally getting married to Mandalorians on missions. (We agreed not to mention that.) (Fucker, I agreed to nothing. Shouldn't have eaten my special Me Day pudding if you didn't want me to gossip.) Man, her friends are... a trip. Uh... have fun? Happy hunting? I guess? *feral Jedi noises*

She? Continues to wait. Palpatine? Begins to have a VERY bad time. (Ha! Get fucked!)

Unfortunately, it's not fast enough to stop his dumbass plans. He just gets desperate. Figures more power is the answer. Because of course he does. So here comes the "oh nooooo~ my planets under attack~ better manipulate a child and make me president of the galaxy!" Plan. Fucker. Bastard.

She can't stop that.

But what she CAN do? Is be there. Waiting. For HIM.

Her little brother. Her son. Her center of the universe. The most important man to ever live... and also? A scared little boy. Far, far from home. The only other person who understands just how BIG the Force is. How much it weighs. How even as it crushs you... you can't bear to put it down. Not even for a moment. Because it loves you. And it hurts, that it does.

And... oh. Oh.

He is so very small.

Dirty, tired, in lovingly mended clothes that are barely beyond scrap. With bright, bright eyes like hope and starlight. He sings inside. Like freedom. Like hope. Daring to ask "why CAN'T you be kinder?", "why CAN'T we be free?". A storm of change. Bright and beautiful.

A child. Great and small, all at once.

Oc can't help but smile. Because, oh. Oh how long, she has waited to meet him, Anikin Skywalker. Welcome. Are you hungry? Cold? Let's get cleaned up. See the healers first. The council can wait.

Chips are removed and food is shared. Warm clothes, soft and new. And she can not help but smile, smile, smile. Even as her face begins to hurt. For years she has gathered. Planned. Studied and trained. As though some part of her knew. As though all for this moment. Taking one of those small hands in hers. Looking right in his eyes.

"It's going to be okay."

Because it IS. Because regardless of what they decide? OC will be with him. Regardless, she's going to go and make sure his mother is free. Not bought, not sold. Free. She has friends who can help. Will learn how to remove the chip herself if she must.

And? He IS going to be a Jedi. Even if he never become a Coruscant Jedi. Even if he decides he doesn't agree with how they do things or they decide the disagree with how HE does things. The Jedi have changed before, they will change again. Living things are meant to grow. Meant to change. And people can be both wrong and right at the same time. It's messy.

But what's important? Is Anikin is not alone anymore. And Oc is gonna help teach him. And someday? HE'S gonna break chains. So many chains. Gonna help people heal. If he wants to. (He does) But for right now? A quick talk with some old people. Maybe a nap. And we either get settled or arrange a trip back to Tatooine. To pick up your mom. In the meantime! You can figure out what classes she might wanna take. Where seems like a good place to settle. *chatting as they walk off, hand in hand*

Just? Sometimes a Padawan-ship is you, your Teacher, your OTHER Teacher, and her body guards that teach you Cool Knife Tricks and how to gamble, behind Obi-Wan's back! :D

@legitimatesatanspawn @mayfay @leftnotright @babbling-babull @hdgnj @spidori @the-witchhunter @lolottes

[shehungers]

CRACKS KNUCKLES let's get to business, Kiri

I want to say that this was SO MUCH FUCKING FUN to read! I'm not much of a superhero-loving gal, but spider-man is one of those heroes that is much more approachable and likeable than a lot of other ones. you "friendly neighborhood spider-man" after all. so, I'm glad that you chose that to go with and that you used Caleb as the hero because it just fucking fits so well!

before I dig in, just know that I haven't played LADS for a long time and certainly haven't played any of Caleb's storyline. so, I can't really make any comment on characterization besides what exists about him in the early parts of the game. if we're going based off of that, this feels very authentic and loyal to his character.

going off of my opinion of how you wrote a character like him: exquisite. you gave me the impression of a responsible older sibling or caretake with a mischievous streak. particularly in regards to the playful banter they share throughout the story, which is equal parts so bratty and caring and sweet that I love, love, love it!!!

a lot of the details you used to describe their relationship: Caleb usually does the cooking, but they dutifully split chores, eat together, consistently yapping with each other throughout the day, that worrying "stay safe" "be home before curfew" "I'll be home for dinner" stuff is just so domestic and ordinary, but something about how you used it in this fic is just so comforting to me; their normalcy is cozy and familiar and loving and lifelong and you did it SO well!!!

one thing I'll mention before I forget is when you were talking about jumping ahead/around w/o dividers or a time skip and having worries about it: don't be. I was purposefully searching for an, ah, rough division in the fic so I could maybe offer a suggestion on improvement. If you did do that, it's nothing so obvious that I noticed it at all!!! I think what "jumps" you did made sense for the narrative and were well-placed, so great work there!!!

what I will get out of the way in terms of a critique, but it's a light one: the length of some paragraphs did become a bit tedious here and there to get through. it's not always easy to figure out how to split up massive thoughts like that bc it all feels relevant to fit into one place, but it makes for more approachable readability to break them down a bit. and I'm saying this as someone who has tendencies to do exactly the same thing.

my proofreaders will tell me to dial it back or split things up sometimes bc I can get so, ah, wordy.

however, I'm also giving you credit here that your readability and flow is excellent! for the most part, I was able to keep scrolling down on my phone without experiencing any hangups, any awkwardness in phrasing or reading. so, truly, wonderful work with that bc achieving good flow can be a difficult task.

okay, that's all I can think of off the top of my head, so I'm dropping screenshots of stuff to yap about:

so fucking same oh my god. I feel this so bad and would've done exactly the same.

there is just something so particularly human and sweet about this paragraph that I just really adore. It does sort of give that childlike idolization where we mimicked people we admired, were inspired by the things they did. But, I love this in the context of mc being an adult and using it as motivation to overcome life challenges. idk idk I just love it

oh my GOD—same. thief running off with my shit? but the crosswalk has 10 more seconds 😫😫😫😫😫 so fucking real. mc is so real for this.

okay, now we're getting into the stuff that I live for when it comes to writing nuanced or small details. agitation causing sleeplessness; overstimulation by way of hyper vigilance, clothes feeling rough? these are excellent little details that can really bring depth into pieces. these are the sort of details that people can feel. the rough clothes are coarse and itch, y'know?

there wasn't much conflict in this fic, which is a-okay, but one thing that I particularly liked was mc's borderline paranoia and hang-up over the fact that he had kept secrets and lied to mc, which I think leans really well into their bond and sort of dynamic that they have. this little passage really stood out to me and was quite potent.

and, the last one:

I also like that in this fic, it was less an issue of caleb's dual-idenities vs MC and more mc vs MC, bc I feel like this entire section you wrote was basically mc internally warring with their own insecurities and fears, rather than having any true issues with Caleb. You present Caleb as surefooted—he knows what he wants, what he's doing, what he's committed to. he is unwavering, he is a solid force and doesn't budge once. that includes his dedication to mc.

MC is the one who wavers and worries and frets and withdraws because it takes them a long time to come to terms with the change and how their lives were going to be inevitably altered forever. and I REALLY love that that's the vibe I got from everything bc sometimes the war within yourself is worse than exists against others, y'know?

I think you did really well exploring all of that!

overall, kiri, I can see all of the heart and work you've put into this piece and I'm so proud of you that you saw it until the end. you have every right to be excited over this piece bc you did the concept justice and executed it beautifully!!!!!!!!

Homecoming

You’re a casual fan, you think. Spider-Man is cool, and you just really like him. That’s all... until you learn that the friendly neighbourhood web-slinger is so much closer than you think.

PAIRING.⠀Xia Yizhou | Caleb x Reader

CONTENT.⠀female reader | superhero AU & Spider-Man Caleb | descriptions of anxiety, fluff, happy ending, mentions of blood and bruises, secrets, slice-of-life (as much as it can possibly be), some angst and hurt/comfort | ~7,6k words

A/N.⠀I really said "I'm going on a writing hiatus" and "I'm gonna lock in" with my whole chest knowing damn well I'm a liar ... anyway yeah this fic was inspired by this Spider-Man Caleb fanart... it made me go crazy.... I hope you enjoy!

available on AO3 | reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

@hunters-association @theseabreezestreet

You were on the verge of a breakthrough. You just knew it.

You were absentmindedly swinging your legs back and forth as you sat at the table. Your laptop was open and displaying several windows—some were images of Spider-Man, some were news articles. Your tablet, and in turn, your notes, had gone completely forgotten. Spending time passively scrolling social media was far from productive, but compared to what you were reading, exam revision was totally dull.

Developing an interest in Spider-Man had been unintentional. You saw him mentioned in the news. Out of curiosity, you looked him up, and all of a sudden, you found yourself deep in the rabbit hole. Before long, you were up-to-date with daily news, keeping up with his movements and making friends with fellow Spider-Man fans. It was swift and unexpected, but you found it more fun than whatever you were previously doing.

He was far from the first superhero Linkon City had seen. There used to be rumours about the God of the Tides and how he ruled the seas for centuries before he found the love of his life. There was also Lumière of the N109 zone, a vigilante who suddenly stopped being active about fourteen years ago. Legends of the Abysm Sovereign and the Foreseer were passed down through generations. No one had proof they existed, only the product of their labour. It was as if they didn’t want to be seen. Still, that didn’t stop your interest from getting piqued.

The difference between Spider-Man and the past legends of Linkon City was that Spider-Man was still active. A web-slinging genius with a no-kill rule, he made the streets significantly safer. Photos and surveillance footage of him were constantly shared, but no one had any luck finding his identity yet. You weren’t investigating him for malicious reasons. You were just, for the lack of a better word, nosy. You wanted to know the man behind the mask instead of the neighbourhood guardian the news always talks about.

You looked at your screen. There was a rough timeline of his appearances the past week. He was in different parts of the city, catching robbers and other criminals with his presumably handmade technology. There wasn’t a strict pattern to how he operated. It seemed that he liked to lurk before making a move. It was how he brought down the corrupted colonels of the Farspace Fleet. Fighting crime appeared to be easy for him, and he wasn’t as destructive as some were. It was impressive. Everything he did had you in awe. His dexterity and swiftness, his strength and courage—he was just what Linkon City needed, you thought.

Just as you were about to go into another deep dive, a hand pushed your laptop shut. Caleb was towering over you when you snapped your gaze to him, brows furrowed as you gave him an offended look. He lightly jabbed your forehead and only smiled in response, seemingly pleased with your reaction.

“You’re supposed to be studying.”

You sputtered. “I was studying!”

“No, you weren’t. You were looking at Spider-Man again.” He tapped his fingers on your tablet, reilluminating the screen once more. “Your exams are next week. You need to focus.”

“I can multitask,” you argued half-heartedly. “And, I’ve never let you down, have I?”

Caleb took the seat across from you with an exaggerated sigh. “I guess not.”

“Why do you hate Spider-Man so bad anyway?” You frowned, trying to move his hand away. He didn’t budge. “He’s keeping the city safe. That’s a good thing!”

“I don’t hate him, but you’ve been distracted. I’m trying to help you.”

“You sound jealous,” you joked. Resting your cheek in the palm of your hand, you looked up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Are you sad I’m not giving you enough attention?”

He pursed his lips, visibly unimpressed. “Set the table. Dinner’s ready.”

“You’re no fun!” you whined. “It’s not my fault there’s finally something interesting!”

You begrudgingly moved your items to the side and got up to make your way to the kitchen, slippers sliding against the floor. The savoury aroma swirled into the air, making your stomach growl involuntarily. Your irritation now forgotten, you made quick work of setting the table and pouring two glasses of water. With your job finished, you waited at the table, eyes drifting over to the TV on the wall. The screen displayed two reporters behind a desk beginning the evening segment. It faded into a clip of men webbed stuck to a lamppost, undoubtedly the work of Spider-Man himself. They were looking to rob an innocent passerby before the webslinger caught them red-handed.

“Huh. That’s where we live,” you spoke up after rereading the headline.

Caleb placed the plates on the table. “That’s why I always tell you to be home before curfew.”

“It’s not like I break curfew anyway,” you grumbled. “You know I hate being out when it’s dark.”

Distracted, you kept your eyes on the screen. The public had mixed opinions about Spider-Man himself. You, along with your circle of friends, thought of him as a hero, feeling safer knowing that he was out there protecting innocent people. From helping an old woman cross the street to busting evil plans, he was using his talents and intelligence for good. He worked tirelessly every day to keep the streets pristine and harmless. The police, on the other hand, weren’t as fond of him. The LCPD openly expressed their distaste for Spider-Man, citing that he was an obstacle in their investigations. Some people thought he was just another guy with a gimmick. These criticisms didn’t seem to bother him at all. If anything, every time someone said anything negative about him, he’d work even harder just to prove them wrong.

You knew it was far from wise to idolise a public figure, but with Spider-Man, he inspired you to do your best every day. You liked to imagine he’d be proud of you if he knew you. You worked hard and powered through no matter how many setbacks you had. As silly and childish as it sounded, he made for great motivation. He was a good guy, he was cool, and—

Caleb waved his hand in front of your face, a warning tone in his voice. “Pipsqueak.”

You jolted, snapping back to the present. “Sorry!”

“Why do you like Spider-Man so much?” he asked, poking at his food. “You got a crush on him?”

You sputtered. “What? No!”

He gave you a look that urged you to continue. Heat rose to your face as you felt a spotlight shining down upon you, giving you the floor. It was hard not to feel embarrassed about something that felt so childish. You hummed thoughtfully, trying to think of words to say. Knowing you were going to sound like a child regardless, you sulked, defeated, and finally gave him a response.

“It’s just… I really like superheroes,” you mumbled timidly, fiddling with your fingers. “I admire people who use their strength for good. Like you!”

The corners of his lips twitched. He seemed pleased. “So do you like me or Spider-Man more?”

“You are jealous!” you said with an accusatory tone. “Caleb, it’s not like that! It’s like… You know when you have a favourite celebrity? That’s what Spider-Man is to me.”

He made a face, though he ended up relenting. “Okay. I get it.”

“Yeah! It’s kinda like how you used to like—”

“Your food’s gonna get cold,” he interrupted, flustered. “I put all my effort into making your favourite. Don’t let it go to waste.”

“Fine,” you drawled out, unable to hold back the smile from stretching across your lips.

Spider-Man eventually faded to the back of your mind throughout dinnertime. You found yourself engrossed in conversation with Caleb, slipping into the normal banter and routine with ease. Somewhere in between, he changed the channel to natural documentaries instead. When you gave him a questioning look, he just shrugged and said that you should take a break with him. Not one to deny his requests, your laptop went forgotten as you spent the remainder of the night on the couch with him.

It was nearing midnight, and from the way that you yawned, you were nearing your limit as well. The documentary was long finished; the past few minutes were just advertisement after advertisement, regular products with unnecessarily catchy jingles. You glanced over at him, suddenly curious. Unlike you, he didn’t seem to be tired at all. If you were more awake, you’d notice the anxious bouncing of his leg or the worried furrow in his brow, but fatigue was catching up to you fast. With another yawn, you pushed yourself to your feet, taking the throw blanket with you.

“Goodnight, Caleb.”

He smiled at you. “Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Fully sated and worn out, sleep came as easily as breathing. Images flickered behind your eyes, displaying dreams and vignettes in film reels. You dreamt of endless summers and sweetness, of growing up and exploring the world. When you woke up the next day, only a fragment of those memories remained. Caleb was already gone when you left your room. He left a note saying he’d left early and that breakfast was in the fridge. After treating yourself to his homemade cooking, you set off for classes and got the day started. It wasn’t very eventful. Classes weren’t particularly interesting. Lectures were about things you already knew, and a majority of your classmates were absent, leading to little to no conversation. Before long, the academic day was over, and it was time to return home.

The streets were bustling with activity as you waded through the crowd. Clamour and chatter were more than loud, people surrounded you, and the scent of car fumes mixed with savoury food bombarded all of your senses. You were starting to see now why people liked to say that Linkon City never sleeps. With everyone getting off work, the city was beyond crowded. Restaurants were fully seated, as were the cafés. Traffic went by incredibly slowly. Dogs barked to the sound of car horns and people were emerging from the train station in groups. You gripped your bag tightly, anxiety clawing at the back of your mind. News and posters about pickpockets were nearly a regular occurrence; it was better to be safe than sorry.

You managed to make it to a street where there were less people. You recognised some of the vendors out and about, offering them warm smiles as you walked past. Occasionally, you stopped by and bought a few snacks to take home. Now having your hands full, you were more than ready to go home and unwind. You hummed a catchy pop tune under your breath, leisurely walking down the path when the TV screens in the electronic stores came alive. You came to a stop, standing in front of the clear glass. It was a news segment. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the screen displaying surveillance of Spider-Man was context enough.

He single-handedly stopped a burglary, moving with inhuman agility and fighting with incredible strength. It showed a group of men bound together by his webs, cursing and fruitlessly struggling to break free. It took a few seconds before the familiarity of the background sank in. The convenience store, the townhouses and the DVD store… The incident happened not too far from home. A frown overtook your features. Despite the crime rate being significantly lower thanks to Spider-Man’s efforts, the curfew was still in place, and the unrest remained. It was not any different for you.

As you made a move to continue your walk, you felt something being snatched from your grasp—your bag. The thief ran at full speed, deftly navigating through the crowd as you yelled for help and followed him, aggressive footfalls slapping against the concrete. Absentminded apologies left your lips whenever a complaint was heard from a passerby. Your chest was beginning to ache, but you needed it back. It had everything. Your phone, your wallet, your house keys with the chain Caleb bought for you. You couldn’t afford to lose it.

The traffic light turned red just as the thief crossed to the other side. You contemplated just dashing through, but anxiety kept you rooted to your spot. They were going further into the distance. You bounced on your heels nervously, eyes glaring at the timer. 40, 39, 38…

It was now or never.

Cars honked at you as you ran to the other side, the combination of noise nearly sending you jumping out of your skin. You pushed through your fatigue and kept running until you tripped over your shoelaces, collapsing to the ground with a loud thud. You hopelessly reached out, watching the thief’s silhouette disappear into the distance. Tears of frustration sprang up to your eyes and you buried your face in your hands, uncaring of how you looked to other people. You weren’t fast enough. All your important things were gone, about to be left somewhere you could never find, and your information would be stolen—

“This yours?”

Your bag was dangling in front of you. Were you so distraught that you were hallucinating having someone come to your aid? You blinked and stared at it dumbly, your mind trying to grapple with the situation. The person crouched down to your level, and Spider-Man’s face came into view.

Wait…

You screamed in surprise, frantically pushing yourself away from him. “What—”

“Hey, hey, It’s okay. It’s just me. I webbed him. He’ll be stuck there for another three hours,” he said casually, speaking as though he was just another regular pedestrian and not the famed vigilante of Linkon City. “I had to look at your ID card to make sure it was you, but I’m glad I got to you in time. Here, take it.”

You barely managed to catch the bag as you were still gawking at him. What felt like a thousand questions were popping up rapidly in your head. How did he know? When did he get here? What was going on? How was he so fast? Caught off guard by your stunned silence, he brought a hand up to scratch the back of his head sheepishly, feeling awkward under your stare.

“Everything okay?” Spider-Man asked tentatively, waving a hand in front of your face. “Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, your reaction slightly delayed. “N-No.”

“Listen, I have to go. There’s gonna be a robbery on Ninth Street.” He helped you get on your feet, carefully making sure you had your balance. “Get home safe, okay? And don’t leave past curfew.”

“Okay,” you said, dumbfounded. It didn’t take long before you managed to snap yourself back to awareness. “Yeah, okay. Thank you for getting this back to me.”

He did a casual salute before aiming his web shooter at a building, swinging away with ease. Digging through your bag, you were relieved to find that everything was intact. Once the confusion went away, excitement came rushing in. You hastily grabbed your phone and dialled Caleb’s number, lips curling into a grin. He picked up after the first ring.

“What’s up?”

“You will not believe what just happened to me,” you said in one breath. “I just met Spider-Man.”

A loud crash was heard in the background.

You hesitated. “Are you busy? It sounds like you’re in the middle of something…”

“Everything’s fine, don’t worry about it. So, you met Spider-Man?”

You nodded, forgetting that he couldn’t see you.

“Uh, pipsqueak?”

“What? Oh, yeah. I did! I’m walking home right now. Someone tried to steal my wallet and I couldn’t catch them, but Spider-Man did and he got it back for me. Isn’t that crazy?”

“Someone tried to rob you?” You could practically hear the frown in his voice. “Why didn’t you call me?”

You blinked. “You’re at work. What were you gonna do?”

He fell silent. It took a couple of beats before he spoke up again.

“Well, I’m glad you got your stuff back. Just make sure to be home before sundown. Tell me when you’re back, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be back in time for dinner, I promise.”

“It’s okay! Take your time,” you reassured him. “I’m heading home now. See you.”

You had a pep in your step for the rest of the way, feeling in high spirits after the encounter. The weight on your shoulders was lifted, leaving you feeling lighter. You didn’t realise how much you needed to breathe. Relieved would be an understatement—it was as if everything fixed itself in front of you. You didn’t generally consider yourself a lucky person, but today, you had won. The encounter with Spider-Man replayed itself in your mind, echoing his voice, reminding you of the proximity you shared.

After sending Caleb a quick text to let him know you got back safely, you began to cool down from the day. You tossed your keys on the counter and went straight for your room, determined to change out of your sweaty clothes. Since he was normally the one to cook dinner, you didn’t have to do much preparation in the kitchen. You put away the clean dishes, washed the leftover ones in the sink, and decided to tidy up a little. With your tasks done, you returned to the living room and flopped down onto the couch with a groan. Though you didn’t hold high expectations for what was on TV, you turned it on for background noise anyway, half-listening to the dialogue in the show that was playing.

The clock on the wall continued to tick. Caleb would get off work soon. You ended up smiling to yourself, excited to tell him about your day. Lying comfortably on the couch, you continued to passively scroll through social media to kill time. You were beginning to hear the telltale sounds of people returning home. The sound of a car door closing, your neighbour’s doorbell ringing, eager dogs overjoyed to see their owner home. Considering the traffic you’d seen earlier, Caleb returning a little later than usual wouldn’t be that irregular.

With that in mind, your worries were eased a little. But as minutes faded into hours, nighttime came, and not a single call or message from Caleb was seen. Worried, you sent him a text, only for them to be left on delivered. Calling him led straight to voicemail. Growing increasingly agitated, you called him again and again, only to achieve the same result. He always told you if he was going to be late. He always picked up after the first ring. But your attempts to get through to him went unseen, and it was getting harder trying not to sink into your anxiety the longer his silence went.

You paced around the room, fingers clutching your phone as the call went to voicemail again. Your eagerness for dinner had long dissipated and was replaced by immense dread. Worst-case scenarios were starting to appear in your mind, fuelling your panic with its increasingly violent visions. You chewed on your nail as you paced back and forth, trying to reach Caleb to no avail. The situation was growing more dire with each passing second.

You glanced at the time. It was three in the morning. You were wide awake on pure adrenaline and distress. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel tired. It was as though all of your senses were on high alert. Everything was too loud, too much, and your clothes felt rough against your skin. Instinctively, you made your way into his room and crawled into his bed, hugging his pillow and rocking back and forth. The smell of his detergent and perfume soothed you enough to have you breathing normally again. Your fingertips dug into the material, knuckles going white and shaking from how rigid your grip was.

The world started to feel less daunting when you finally calmed down. You felt exhausted, completely boneless. Your eyelids were getting heavier, and as you lay there surrounded by everything he owned, you found yourself falling slowly. The room is dim with only the city lights outside peeking in through the curtains. You felt a cold draft coming through the window, sending shivers running down your spine. Fabric rustled and you felt the mattress dip, immediately jolting you awake. A mixture of relief and fury washed over you.

“Caleb?”

His breath hitched.

You blindly patted the nightstand in search of the lamp switch. Once the room was illuminated, you squinted at him through half-lidded eyes. “Where the hell have you been?” you asked groggily. “I’ve been—”

Your eyes dropped to his outfit. It was the same suit that Spider-Man wore, although more torn and worn down. Whatever tiredness was left in your system dissipated when you saw him. You sat still for a few moments, trying to contemplate whether you were imagining things or if this was real. You didn’t know where to begin. It was as if time stopped. There he was, the person you had been waiting for, standing at the foot of the bed like a deer caught in the headlights. You stared at him with your mouth agape, your mind struggling to put the pieces together despite the obviousness in front of you.

You didn’t know where to begin. Did he always sneak back home like this? What happened to him? In the end, you settled for the most urgent one in your mind—

“How long have you been hiding this from me?”

He forced a smile, the gesture awkward and tense. “A couple of months.”

“Months?” you asked, voice rising in volume. “You’ve been—you—god, I don’t even know what to say.”

“I’m sorry.”

You pursed your lips. “Come here.”

He tentatively complied, sitting down in the spot next to you. Your hands cradled his face, thumbs brushing over the bruises and making him grimace slightly. He didn’t say a single word. It was as if he was also dumbfounded himself. You were still upset, but the longer you looked at him, the more the anger faded. At least he was home. Injured, but still home in one piece. It was leagues better than the thousands of scenarios your mind was conjuring up earlier.

“You have a lot of explaining to do.”

“I know,” he murmured, voice uncharacteristically meek. It was unlike the Caleb you grew up with.

“But it can wait,” you said, pulling him into a hug. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I was worried about you.”

His arms wrapped themselves around your waist and he held you close to him, a shaky breath escaping his lips. He held onto you with a desperation you’d never seen before. He relaxed into your touch just the slightest, reassured by feeling your warm body against his. You pressed your cheek to where his heart would be, feeling its steady rhythm remind you that he was here—that he was home.

Your voice was meek when you spoke. “I thought you left me.”

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

“So you decided with radio silence?” you snarked back. Something in his expression flickered, making you calm down once again. You frowned at the amount of bruises visible on his face and the dried blood on his split lip. Softening, you told him, “Go take a shower and get changed. I’ll patch you up.”

He didn’t argue. He only nodded and disappeared into the bathroom, walking sluggishly. The sound of running water filled the stifling stillness as you took a proper glance around the room. There was an evidence board, several open books, and a well-used first aid kit on the desk. Your heart sank. Just how long had he been doing this, getting himself hurt and having to mend himself? Didn’t he trust you? Why did he keep this a secret from you? You heaved out a sigh and hid your face in your hands, frustration and sadness simmering beneath the surface.

There were a lot of questions you wanted to ask, but this wasn’t the right time. Right now, all you could do was be there for him.

He emerged a handful of minutes later, dressed in comfortable clothes. You scooted over and patted the space next to you, lips pressed in a taut frown. Now that the suit was off, you could see the hits he’d taken more clearly. Splashes of blue and purple were scattered across his skin, some big and some small. There were a couple of cuts and scrapes close by, both old and new. It was the worst you’d ever seen him.

“Sit,” you urged timidly. You gingerly applied the ointment on his bruises, careful not to hurt him as he stared up at you. He looked so vulnerable and so fragile that it made you feel like your heart was going to burst out of its confines. “Talk to me. Please.”

“It was Gran,” he said. “She made a serum. I didn’t know it until a few days later. I was stronger, faster… I could hear everything. I could feel everything.”

“How come I never knew this?”

“I didn’t want to worry you. I’m supposed to be your hero, remember?” He laughed in a self-deprecating way, avoiding your gaze. “I had to stay strong. Figure things out, get stronger… Make sure you’d always be safe.”

Setting the first aid kit aside, you pulled him into your arms once again. He held onto you tightly, fingers grabbing the fabric of your shirt so tightly that his hands were trembling. You raked your fingers through his hair and brushed them back, keeping them away from the wounds on his face. For a moment, it felt like there were only the two of you in the world. All you could hear was his quiet breathing as he latched onto you, unwilling to let go.

It broke your heart to see him this way.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t rely on me.”

“No, that’s not it,” he sighed. “I’d go through anything for you. I just… I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Then don’t keep any secrets from me anymore.” You pulled away. He looked up at you with a pained expression, years of secrecy and isolation making themselves known in his glossy eyes, the quiver of his bottom lip. “Can you do that for me?”

He nodded weakly.

“I need words, Caleb,” you said, your voice firmer than intended. You cupped the side of his face, feeling him clasp your hand with his own, warm and calloused. “Can you promise me that?”

“I can,” he exhaled shakily. “I promise.”

The tears you were holding back brimmed at the corners of your eyes, small droplets sliding down the sides of your face. A hushed whimper broke out of you. Caleb held on to you like you were his lifeline, refusing to let go for even a split second. The gravity of his words weighed heavy, as did him baring his heart. He melted in your embrace, sinking deep into your comfort as you gently scratched his scalp, easing every worry he was holding.

“Don’t lie to me again, okay?” you murmured into his ear.

“I won’t anymore. I swear.”

—

Though months seemed to have passed in the blink of an eye, the emotional turmoil stayed deep in your heart the entire time.

Life had turned completely upside down. With the new knowledge of him being Spider-Man looming over you, you were having trouble placing yourself. Some days, you felt excited and happy for him. He was more open with you when it came to his successes. He’d tell you about the petty criminals he caught or the passersby he helped while swinging through the city. He was passionate about his identity as Spider-Man, and he was committed. You wanted to support him in every step of the way. Some days, you’d feel like you were sinking. You previously didn’t worry all too much when Caleb returned home late, but since that day, fear and anxiety kept you company on lonely nights.

He didn’t always return looking completely beat up. Sometimes he was unscathed. Sometimes it was just a couple of bruises. But you hated being home alone, especially in the dark where everything seemed to get much worse. You were losing sleep because you’d stay up to wait for him to come home. You needed to see him with your own eyes, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to go to sleep in peace. He tried to give you estimated times to soothe you, but it didn’t always work. You’d wait in the living room, rock yourself back and forth as you wondered if he was coming home.

Your mind wouldn’t let you forget that he lied, either. You already forgave him a long time ago, but you remembered. You’d question yourself, question him, and what would come after was an overwhelming sense of guilt. He was trying. He was more open. He was showing you an important part of himself, bringing you along with him on his journey, yet doubts still lingered in your mind. He kept his cheerful disposition, constantly reassuring you that everything was going to be fine, but your mind was filled with what-ifs. What if he was hiding more from you? What if he was lying? What if he thought of you as a burden?

It was irrational to feel this way. You knew that very well, and yet, you still felt like you were fading out of his life. You talked to Caleb normally, interacted with him like you always did, but something felt different. It was as if he was drifting further and further away from you. Your outstretched hand, desperately trying to reach him, and his fading silhouette. Everything had changed. You felt like you were losing him in real time and there was nothing you could do about it. Everything had changed, yet it was all the same. You still had breakfast together. He still picked up the phone after the first ring. He still smiled at you, looked at you like you were his whole world. You were teetering between security and uncertainty. You didn’t want to feel this way, but you were helpless. These feelings came by themselves, and the more time you spent alone, the more difficult it became to ignore them.

Your sentiments towards Spider-Man had only grown stronger with the knowledge that Caleb was him. His name was more well-known in the city, growing popular among kids and women, and he was constantly being praised by the press. You supported him. You had total faith in him, trusted in him and his strength. But sometimes you’d stay awake stressing about how safe things truly were. More fame meant more notoriety among criminals, and you’d often wonder how long it would be before something drastic happened. You wanted the best for him, you really did, but something guttural gnawed at you. The desire to keep him to yourself, the need to protect him. You wanted to sink your teeth into his flesh, to keep him in your maw. You wanted to hide him away somewhere only you knew.

You dreamt of it sometimes—of risking your life for him just to keep him safe. You constantly wondered if things would be easier for him if you left. You knew there was much that he wasn’t sharing with you yet. You knew it would take time regardless of how much he trusted you, Still, you felt as though you were being kept in the dark. Being Spider-Man seemed to be so easy for him. It suited him, even. You couldn’t see anyone else doing the same thing that he did. But you didn’t know what you were meant to be. You felt for him very deeply, as did he, but the vagueness in the air bothered you more and more every day.

Were you only being selfish?

You thought back on one of the mornings you spent with him. A full spread of breakfast lay across the table and the news played in the background. The sun was shining bright, peeking through the gap between the curtains, and the weather was good. But there was a sense of foreboding that loomed over you, one that you couldn’t keep to yourself. You called his name softly, leading him to look away from the screen.

“Are you okay?” you asked. He blinked at you, confused by the question.

“Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

Somehow, it wasn’t enough.

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t know.

“I’m good. Sorry, I just thought you looked a little distracted.”

The lie slipped out of you with ease. You felt childish. You felt burdensome for needing reassurance from him that he wasn’t going to leave you behind, but you could never bring yourself to say it. Between your pride and the overwhelming fear of rejection, the words you desperately wanted to stay would remain within the confines of your mind. He didn’t seem to be convinced by any means, but he didn’t push the matter. A part of you wished he did.

It wasn’t a fight. There was nothing wrong. Even when he returned home blood and bruised, exhausted out of his mind, you took care of him with love and care. It didn’t matter that you didn’t understand why he was risking his life. Caleb never broke his promises or broke away from the path to his goals. He wasn’t about to let you stop him. With great power comes great responsibility, he said. But was this responsibility thrust upon him, or was he doing it out of his volition?

You hated feeling helpless. You knew he didn’t need you to do anything, but you felt like you weren’t an integral part of his life anymore. You felt like a bystander, like someone he was slowly forgetting. You shouldn’t feel this way. You should feel happy that he still cared about you, that he cared about the city to give his all into protecting it, yet your mind just wouldn’t let you. Your thoughts on Caleb hadn’t changed. You still thought he was the most important person to you, but what used to be admiration and even love for Spider-Man was turning into resentment little by little.

Some days, you hated him. You felt like a little kid without her favourite toy. You felt like a lonely child in a class full of people. You knew it was useless to dwell on these things, so you tried to occupy yourself. You put all your effort into your studies. You kept yourself busy doing chores even on the days when it was his turn. You didn’t wait to eat dinner with him; you went out for food and drinks with your friends, came back a bit later than the sunset. It wasn’t as if he’d notice. He wasn’t home when you needed him to be.

His name was constantly trending on social media. Spider-Man rescues bus from hijackers. Spider-Man stops bank robbery. Spider-Man comics and merchandise releasing. His name became the talk of the town, earning the attention of the rest of the country. The newfound fame kept him even busier to the point where people were starting to dig deeper into his true identity, leading fans and investigators to wait outside your home. You kept ignoring them, but they were persistent. Your declining of their questions only made them more curious. Not only did you feel like he was slipping out of your grasp, but also like the safety of home was in jeopardy.

It wasn’t his fault. You couldn’t blame him for it. But sometimes you wondered if he knew just how much this was affecting you, as self-centred as it seemed. The satisfaction you expected from uncovering the truth about Spider-Man never came. The final piece of the puzzle was right in front of you, living and breathing under the same roof as you were, and all you could harbour was disappointment.

What Caleb was doing was major. He was keeping the city safe—keeping his home safe, for you and everyone. You found yourself sinking further into guilt and bitterness, the light at the surface growing smaller as you fell deeper and deeper. It was childish of you to be throwing a tantrum over something like this. So, you decided to grin and bear it. He understood you like the back of his hand; doing the same to him was the very least you could do. You pestered him less about his missions, stopped trying to call again and again when he didn’t respond. He’d always come home, even if it took days. He never broke promises. He promised he wouldn’t.

If he noticed the change in you, he didn’t mention it. His actions, however, said otherwise. He did his best to pay more attention to you. He tried to spend as much time with you as he could despite your conflicting schedules. He listened to everything you spoke about, promised you to be careful when you asked, and continued to protect you in his own way. You didn’t know exactly what it was that seemed to switch the dynamic completely, but at a certain point, you were no longer drowning in the pool of negativity. The sun seemed to shine brighter, the flowers in full bloom, and your cheeks ached from how much you’d been smiling. The lingering sense of foreboding faded into nothingness, replaced by pure optimism and trust. The future didn’t feel so glum anymore.

You supposed all you needed was time.

Time to heal, time to process everything. Time had a way of turning wounds into scars, healing phantom pains into a comfortable stillness. The claws that had your heart in a death grip had loosened, letting go of the chains they wrapped around it. You felt lighter, happier. Some semblance of normalcy had returned—as normal as it could be considering his dual life, but you weren’t going to take it for granted. You felt like you could finally breathe after being underwater for so long. Even here, where you were alone in the apartment, you didn’t feel lonely. It was… normal. A relief. It didn’t feel so suffocating anymore.

It was quiet save for the sound of your nails tapping against the keyboard. It was a sunny afternoon. Having had a productive morning, you aimed to finish the rest of the day in the same way. You were focused and determined to finish the essay quickly so you had more free time. But as the hours went by, that determination waned, and you found yourself at a dead end. You blankly stared at the blinking cursor on the word document. It almost felt like the thing was mocking you. Fatigue and boredom were catching up to you increasingly quickly. You knew the material by heart. You knew what you wanted to talk about. Yet no words came to mind—you were drawing a blank, and the thoughts in your mind were already drifting off elsewhere.

The counter was littered with snacks, surely something Caleb would chide you for. Your tumbler was long empty, left with nothing but melted ice cubes at the bottom. The dishes awaited cleaning in the sink and the TV remained turned on, playing a rerun of some generic soap opera. Defeated, you closed the word document, eyes drifting to the window beside you.

Outside, the skyline was painted in hues of orange and blue. Birds flew over the horizon, ready to migrate elsewhere for the upcoming spring. Your chest rose and fell with your exhale as you let your mind wander. You used up your creativity for the day, you thought. You haven’t made significant progress on the essay since you started it a few hours ago. Before you could beat yourself up about it, three loud knocks were heard from the window. Caleb’s masked face peeked over the wall as he gave you a gentle wave. Giddy, you got off your chair and skipped over, fingers deftly undoing the lock on its doors. You slid it open, allowing him to crawl in.

“I thought you were busy fighting crime,” you teased, watching as he took the mask off. His hair was tousled and his cheeks were flushed from exertion. “Are you slacking off?”

He huffed, amused. “I can multitask.”

He unhid his hand from his back and handed you a large bouquet of sunflowers, the gesture immediately making you melt. Flowers weren’t that out of the ordinary. Caleb liked bringing you gifts and trinkets he thinks you’d like. You got an equally large bouquet during your high school graduation and another one when you were accepted into university. You took it with a smile, murmuring a quiet ‘thank you’ and curiously looking at him. He bounced on the heels of his feet, seemingly nervous about something. His brows knitted together.

“You okay?”

He met your gaze. “Do you still think Spider-Man is better than me?”

You blinked a few times, confused. From the way he said it, it appeared that it wasn’t the first time he thought of something like this. You chuckled and crossed your arms over your chest, shifting your weight to the other leg.

“Getting jealous of yourself, Caleb?” It was your turn to be amused. “I never said he was my number one hero.”

“You never said I was your number one hero either.”

You sighed in mock exasperation. “Why is this important? You’re the same person.”

“I just wanna know,” he said, uncharacteristically sheepish.

“First of all, that happened once,” you corrected, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “Second of all, I love you. Spider-Man or not.”

His lips curled into a smile. “You love me?”

Warmth blossomed across your chest, rising all the way up to your cheeks as your lips parted in surprise, sputtering incoherent syllables. You awkwardly turned your head away, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. Love had never been discussed, not really. It just felt like an unspoken commitment since you were children. He was the most important person to you, and you were the most important person to him. You never really thought about labelling your relationship.

Your eyes widened when you remembered you always referred to him as your partner whenever you spoke of him to your friends. You already gave it a label without realising it. You opened and closed your mouth like a fish, struggling to come up with a reply. You could feel his gaze on you, hear the satisfaction and mischief in his words. Clearing your throat, you tried to compose yourself and decided to follow through. You couldn’t take it back anyway, and even if you could, you didn’t want to.

“Yeah. I do,” you said, feigning indifference. “I thought you knew that.”

He couldn’t stop the smile from expanding into a grin. A breathless chuckle left him. His cheeks seemed to be getting even pinker as he fidgeted in his spot. He scratched the back of his head with flustered giddiness, struggling to keep eye contact with you. You didn’t think you ever saw him this shy. He was always your brave hero Caleb, the same boy who held you when you had nightmares, the same boy who held your hand when the thunderstorms got too loud. He was the same boy who defended you from bullies and got into trouble for getting into a fight with them. He was the same man who held nothing but affection in his words for you, the same man who would fall into playful banter with you.

You sighed softly, the corners of your lips twitching up. “You’re not gonna say it back?”

Though he didn’t need to, there was still a hint of insecurity in your tone. You looked at him expectantly, still watching as he tried to maintain composure. You weren’t used to seeing him this way, but you thought you could learn to do it. It made for a rather nice sight.

“I love you too, pipsqueak,” he finally said.

You beamed at him, placing the bouquet on the counter before leaping into his arms, delightfully laughing when he caught you effortlessly. You looped your arms around his neck and hooked your chin on his shoulder. Your legs were wrapped around him, your body supported by his arms around your waist. He held you as if you were as light as a feather. He nuzzled into your hair, letting out a content sigh. The air felt so light, so carefree. The remnants of your worries disappeared into the air, replaced by pure joy and unbridled affection.

“So… What’s the plan? Are you done with the day?”

“I’m going back to work. They need me,” he replied. With a jovial tone, he continued. “But I’ll be back for dinner.”

“You mean it this time?” You pulled away, searching into his eyes for honesty. You were still prone to worrying. His vigilante lifestyle was full of unpredictable moments, so it consistently kept you on your toes, leaving you unaware of what to expect. You were desperate for his words to be true. You felt as though you’ve been away from him for way too long. You craved his presence, his warmth—you craved him.

He gave you a boyish smile. “Yeah. I do.”

And that was a promise.

[marshbarks]

i stopped in the middle of a game to type this. there's a slime about to attack me. whatever.

au where stan moves away a lot lot lot earlier. they met a little later. he only knew kyle for a couple years; long enough to form a bond neither of them will ever be free of. long enough to both fall in love.

and stan remembers certain things super clearly. kyle's birthday, for example, and the smile that kyle flashed when he showed up at the arcade to celebrate. yeah, all of kyle's other friends were there, sure, he was happy for that! but stan was a little late, so he'd gotten into a little bit of a funk. wanted his best friend at the party. its obvious how the entire mood of the place shifted once kyle caught sight of stan's hat at the entrance, getting his hand stamped to come in. they locked eyes, as they always do, and stan almost ripped his hand out of the attendant's grip with how fast he shot it into the air to wave. they spent most of the party side by side.

(eric and kenny are also in town at this point, but ken also ends up moving away because of family stuff. so for a while, its just eric and kyle still in south park. stan's there from age 9 - 12)

so then 5 years later, at 17, stan has re-met with kenny --- ken walked into the dispensary with one hand in their hair, the other holding a note, trying to read off their dads fucking order- sighing and dragging their hand down their face and mumbling behind their palm, just shoving the note into stan's hands. and stan tried small talk. mentioned how he had a friend as a kid with an orange parka like that- ken's face splits into a grin and they're like "yeah? did you? mhm? tell me all about 'em, marsh." and stan freezes, then he's rolling his eyes and laughing and being like dude cmon you can't just let me make an idiot of myself like that! kenny, holy shit- hold on. let me pack this bag and then i'm taking my break---

and they form crimson dawn. jimmy's out in LA too, trying to work the comedy angle still. hoping that being out somewhere high profile will do the trick. leo moved out of his place and is crashing at kenny's family's house while he works on getting on his feet. being the Only Guys From Their Fuckin TOWN out here, of COURSE they form a lil meetup at stan's place (which his dad is sooo proud of their big house, stan cmon PLEASE bring your friends here [what friends, dad?] to show off my wealth) and the band isn't even a thought at first. stan's always had his passion for music, but it hasn't ever been something he's taken seriously.

until jimmy picks up a notebook and sees some lyrics stan was fucking SUFFERING trying to write- and being someone who is well-versed in the art of rhyming for limerick purposes (one of his favorite forms of comedy)- he offers some help with the words. stan panics at first- no its okay seriously thats not even anything important- but leo looks it over over jimmy's shoulder and compliments him. and then before they know it, leo is softly singing the revisions to himself and kenny is humming a melody along- and it doesn't take long for the idea to plant itself.

and they've been performing now for a decade. honestly, they're still not super big. its all gigs in local clubs and bars. most of their music is passion projects and personal feelings in the songs. they've all got lives to lead, recruited someone into the group who films all their performances to put online. and.

every year, if they perform around may 26th, stan stamps something on the back of his hand. normally its just whatever he had on hand. sometimes it's a drawing from someone else in the band. sometimes its a stencil- it doesn't matter. all that matters is that he sings the same song as a celebration to a birthday he'll never forget. to his best friend, even now, and he throws his arm into the air, facing the crowd. the memory doesn't sit with the others as hard, and stan won't explain it. says it's an important tradition to him!

and this year, kyle stumbles across an uploaded video while he's trying to find new artists to listen to and sitting through a random youtube mix.

[huffelpuff210]

My girl Part 5

Mafia Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are moving too fast in your mind, But not in his

You have no idea how you agreed to this, one moment you are in a crappy apartment now you are in a massive house, no leaky sinks, no yelling from next door or above you, no shady deals going on, 

No peeling walls, smell of mold or smoke from cigars, it was a beautiful home, it was massive, Bucky set me up in a room right next to his, He introduced me to his men…

Steve and Sam were the first one’s they smiled at me as we shook hands, telling me that they heard much about me, 

He had a lot of security and he introduced me to his two guard dogs, Jaws and Fang both male dogs very huge, they sniffed me and started following me around, this was a bit much, You tried telling Bucky but he said it was fine, that he was worried about your living conditions and he was not sending you back there, 

It was the first time in your life someone gave a shit, someone wanted to help you, that he was worried about your well being, 

He basically told you to quit your extra job and cut your hours because you were over working yourself, you and him had a glaring contest. 

But eventually you had no choice and gave in, he was right you were over working, 

Then came tonight, when you came down for dinner, it was just you and him, candle light and wine, you were blindsided but you sat down, 

“What’s going on?’ You asked

“Well I figured this would be a good time to have a date with each other I’ve been wanting to ask, but I had to wait a bit since everything.” He says smirking as he took a sip, 

you give him a look and he simply smirks, 

“Come on doll have a bit of fun for once.” He says 

You arch your brow, 

“I know how to have fun,” You smirk 

“Really? Seems to me like your a work hard and no play kind of girl.” He says with a chuckle 

You roll your green eyes at him, 

And he can’t help but admit the sass turns him on a bit, no one ever talks back to him let alone rolls their eyes at him, they fear him too much to do such things, and he loves how people would warn you about him, but your answer was always the same, telling them you can make that judgement for yourself, not based off of rumors. 

He loved how you smile at him it’s not forced or faked, 

“What about you I can imagine you don’t have much time for fun in your line of work.” You say arching a eyebrow at him

If he would have it his way he would have had you laid on top of this table already begging him not to stop, he could feel his pants getting tight, He had to adjust himself, 

“I guess you could say that.” He says with a chuckle 

“Then I guess we are both workaholics.” You says with a chuckled 

He lets out a laugh, 

He stands up walking towards you, 

“Then I guess it’s about time we have some fun don’t you?” He asked pulling you up to your feet, 

You let out a laugh, 

“What exactly do you have in mind?” You ask tilting your head 

He smirks at you, 

“I know the perfect place.” He says guiding you out of the dinning room

[mania-sama]

this is the full scene excerpt for the bucky barnes & joaquin torres & sam wilson fic i'm working on, mostly with a future focus on bucky and joaquin's friendship with a healthy dose of pining sambucky on the side. @heres20buckspleasekillme7090 :D (link to original post here)

(still tentatively titled the ballad of a dove)

It happens like this: Bucky is sitting at the kitchen table in the Wilson family home in Delacroix, filling out the Sunday newspaper’s crossword puzzle with a ballpoint pen that is rapidly drying out. Sam and Sarah are preparing breakfast with wild bangs of pots and pans, and the kids are dueling each other with empty wrapping paper rolls in the living room. The television channel is turned to a morning cartoon at medium volume, loud enough to be heard but quiet enough for the words to be indiscernible.

All of these sounds, mixed with the idle conversation the Wilson adults make as they empty to-order eggs onto the awaiting plates (Bucky prefers his over-easy, the kids and Sarah for scrambled, and Sam for sunny-side up), amalgamates into a warm white noise that settles over his whole body.

He used to prefer silence. In Wakanda, he’d assumed that was the closest he’d ever be to calm. The noise that filled his days came from the water sloshing onto shore, the wind brushing through the grass, and the birds chatting to each other across the forest. Occasionally, he was by the Wakandans, but they were not loud people. And while they were not cautious with him, they had a certain level of peace they allotted to him and refused to break.

Then, he moved back to the city. The cars and flickering street lights made plenty of noise, and occasionally his neighbors fight with their loved ones, but for the most part, he resides in an unsettling sort of quiet. The apartment is penetrable and vulnerable in the depths of Brooklyn housing, yet it’s his all the same. It encases his personal warmth and thoughts and life into a small, walkable, breathable space. 

He isn’t calm, there, but he had thought the silence was good for him.

And then it’s a few days before Christmas. He is sitting in the family house of a man he thought he’d never talk to again after Steve left, struggling to complete a crossword puzzle because what the fuck is “Flynn Ryder, ex.” supposed to mean?, and he is calm.

More than calm, he is happy. The Wakandans were compassionate and provided him a space to heal, but he was the White Wolf, a reformed supersoldier, to them. In Brooklyn, he is the outpatient James Buchanan Barnes and a dangerous ward of the government.

In Delacroix, he is Bucky, who fills out crosswords and likes his eggs over-easy, who sits at the kitchen table and doesn’t get overwhelmed by the sights, smells, and sounds of a full house.

It’s as Sam and Sarah are placing the plates on the table, beautifully set courtesy of Bucky’s gentleman hand, that Sam’s phone starts ringing. Everyone in the house, even the kids, groan. The United States government, judging by the fact that Sam has a unique ringtone set for his various federal contacts in case of emergencies.

With a dramatic eyeroll and complaint (“On my one week off, they gotta give me a call? I wouldn’t have taken the shield if I knew this shit would keep happening.”), he steps out of the house to answer it. Sarah and Bucky take the extra time to settle the sword fight in the living room and wrangle the kids to their respective seats.

Some ten minutes later, Sam comes back with a frown and a tense hand massaging his jaw. Bucky stands, beckons Sarah and her kids to start without them, and follows Sam back outside.

The December morning greets him with a flash of wind against his face, sharp as a whip and cool as iron. Sam doesn’t give Bucky a minute to breathe before he says, “Joaquin’s MIA.”

Bucky can breathe, but it doesn’t feel very good. Louisiana doesn’t get cold like Russia — it doesn’t even get as cold as the American northeast, which is already laughable compared to Europe’s unforgiving climate. Yet, Delacroix’s version of cold spikes through his throat and punctures his lungs.

It isn’t the news itself that concerns him so much; it’s Sam’s face. His eyes are squinted at the blue horizon, his mouth pinched like he’s trying to hold something terrible from jumping out, and his hands are stuffed stiffly into pockets.

So Bucky is concerned, because in their line of work, going temporarily missing is par for the course. They have enemies. It wouldn’t be out of pocket to assume that Torres may have had to take shelter or discreetly take someone out. And while that is worrying, Torres is also the Falcon. He can take care of himself. He knows how to get a hold of Sam and Bucky if he is really in trouble.

He doesn’t say anything, choosing to let Sam bathe in the quiet morning and his friend’s silent comfort until he can continue.

“Air Force released him to go home to his family for Christmas. When he didn’t make it home or answer any of his texts, his family called the police. Them and Nellis tracked him down to his car with a flat tire on the shoulder of I-10.”

There’s the way Sam says all of this, for one, with his detached tone of voice and forced, even breaths. For two, he trails off at the end of his explanation and lightly scuffs the ground with the side of his shoe.

“And he wasn’t there, I’m guessing,” Bucky asks, keeping his voice low. He still isn’t exactly sure where the problem lies, yet. There are a million and one reasons for a man like Torres to abandon his car on the side of the road.

Sam sighed. “One of those battery pack tire pumps is sticking out his tire. The outside of the car is dented, scratched, and bloodied. Signs of a struggle. They think he tried to get a knife out of his car from the driver’s side but was unsuccessful.”

Bucky waits for more. It doesn’t come. “That’s it?”

“Yeah,” he clicks his tongue. “Investigation’s only just begun, but they don’t have any major leads yet. No DNA, no witnesses, nothing,” Sam says. His voice hardens at the end, spitting the word nothing out like one would chewing tobacco.

Despite himself, Bucky smiles, though it’s moreso a grimace than anything mirthful. “I know how to find people.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” he snaps, then pauses. He turns fully to Bucky, their eyes meeting, and he seems to deflate all at once. His shoulders sag and his neck fails to hold his head up straight. “I know we can find him, but he was kidnapped, Buck.”

Sam doesn’t have the will to finish the rest of his thoughts, but he doesn’t need to. Bucky already knows the thousands of words he’s leaving off. Ransom, torture, serum, mind control. All of the things that manipulate and mangle a heart and soul into something snarling, something horrible.

They’ve been through these steps before.

His vibranium arm is meant to be light and flexible courtesy of advanced Wakandan technology, but it suddenly feels like it weighs twice the mass of the universe itself. The image of Torres — bright, young, capable Joaquin Torres who always has something to say and who had burrowed his way into Bucky’s heart like a goddamn tapeworm — muzzled and dragging the weight of the world behind vacant, obedient eyes sets Bucky’s stomach acid roiling.

He won’t let what they did to him (what they did to Natasha, what they did to Isaiah, what they did to Tony, what they did to—) also happen to Joaquin.

“We’ll get to him before they get what they want,” Bucky reassured, reaching out with his right arm and squeezing Sam’s bicep gently. “He’s strong. Nothing’ll happen to him that he can’t come back from.”

Sam nods, leaning ever-so-slightly into Bucky’s touch. Perhaps Bucky lets his hand linger for too long, holding on too tight, fingers clasping at far more than just an arm, but neither of them speaks a word on it. Sam is apt to let Bucky have these moments of lingering affection, though Bucky still has yet to decide what exactly that is supposed to mean.

Bucky glances at the front door, knowing his and Sam’s eggs had gone cold. “Let’s try to get back before Christmas.”

yes i did change it from past tense to present tense and i swear i have my reasons. also they are NOT finding that man before christmas lmao who do you think i am. a kind author? NO.

[gayofthefae]

I just realized the two times I know of that they've let Finn improvise are blank makes you crazy and the ily speech

aka

Two times that it feels more natural to improvise because Mike is actually grasping at straws.

In the first, he is chickening out and finding ways to stall. In the second, he's honestly doing a version of the same thing, just with higher stakes. I would place money that Mike did not expect to have to keep talking that long - that's why he started with the biggest thing. There are lots of pauses in that monologue, he's pulling things out of thin air.

With Will, it was easier because he had a single story to tell in its entirety then he was done. He could elaborate on details, but it was one story intended.

With El, he intended the "I love you". It didn't work. He doesn't tell a story of how he loves, he lists things. He goes bullet by bullet down the list responding to things she said and that will told him she said. It is a list. Because every bullet point, he hopes that he won't have to keep going, that she'll wake up and it'll work.

The scene in the van was not, for either of them, improvised in any way because that scene was fully honest. Mike's thoughts were coherently flowing out of him as he vented and Will's he had been sitting on.

As I say that, the implication of that? Mike had not been sitting on his. To put it colloquially, he was pulling it out of his ass. On the spot. He did not prepare that. (which further supports my idea that that isn't what he was going to say in the pineapple pizza scene).

In 3x07, Mike panicked because he didn't have an out and listed things: it makes you crazy, old people say it

In 4x09, Mike panicked because he had not prepared anything because he had no intention to say this to her and had to fillibuster what was intended as a three word phrase and instead listed things: I love you, I'm not scared of you, I'm scared you won't need me, I don't know how to live without you, my life started when we met, I love you on your good and bad days, I love you with or without your powers, I can't lose you, you can do anything

I mean, the end there is just him getting desperate. He's just listing synonyms. "You can do anything, Fly, move mountains" "good days/bad days, powers/no powers, exactly as you are". He's being honest in his belief in her, but he's also stretching it wording-wise so she feels like the support is continuous - so she feels like this was prepared in some way. Like he sat on it.

They allowed him to improvise because the energy of improv is not knowing what comes next. They allowed him to improvise because, despite this being his supposed intention for days, he did not prepare anything.

[emwheezie]

Omg literally ignore this but I need to vent.

I keep getting zillow notifications for my apartment building. The unit above/below me is back on the market. Those units are so beautiful and newly refurbished and gorgeous and everything... it makes me want to cry for one thousand hours. We discussed unit 3 with our realtor and everything was good to go but when we got our lease, it was unit 2. We should have brought this up and asked questions but housing was going so fast because we live in a college town and this was one of the only places we could afford that was messaging us back.

Well we figured who cares, it's the same building. We get there and the place was DISGUSTING. We were told the unit would be cleaned out on our move in day but it was so obviously not. Everything was filthy. There was trash in places, rotten food and frozen meat in the refrigerator/freezer. Stuff was left in the cabinets (which were broken). The tub was rusted out, we had problems with our toilet for the first year. The inside of the bathroom sink was crackled and stained. The counter tops were grimy, the walls were dirty and had tape residue in a lot of places. The windows had animals nose prints all over them. There were flies all over the kitchen window for the first month...we have no idea why.

But we didn't know what to do... no one in my family has ever lived in an apartment before.. this was in the middle of the pandemic, adding another level of weirdness. We cleaned up a bit the first day and as we were building our kitchen chairs some cleaners came in and ONLY mopped the floors. Some maintenence guy who came to fix our leaking toilet later in the year said we had the oldest stove and fridge he'd ever seen. I'm not even sure our central heat works.

For the past 4 years I didn't think much about it. But now I'm so so so sad and angry. I feel like we were taken advantage of because we were so young. We were just a couple of 22 year old trying to get our first place. Unit 3, according to those new zillow listings are so beautiful and clean with bright walls and (probably fake) marbel counter tops. Ours are this strange textured vinyl that's worn away in some parts and impossible to clean. Our vinyl floor is warped and coming apart while the other seems to have tile or linoleum... I'm just soooo... having emotions about it. There's NO WAY we're getting our deposit back, probably because they're gonna think we did all that damage (I took pics of EVERYTHING the day we moved in).

Also did I mention my bedroom didn't have a door???? My dad literally bought me one and installed it.

My heart feels broke over what we could've had. (We're paying the same rent as the nicer units too!)

[sweetdispatch]

Can I order 2 heart cookies with anything flavors except chocolate and coffee, with whipped cream please!

Opposites - J. Slafkovsky

v' bakery pairing: Juraj Slafkovsky x fem!reader summary: You and Juraj are coming from two different planets but this didn't stop you two from falling in love warning: none

It happened during summer. Juraj stayed a little longer in Montreal to enjoy free time with his teammates before he went back to his country. You bumped into him at one of the house parties and there was something electric about him. You two sat down on the couch and had a really long conversation about each other’s lives. In that moment you realised that your priorities and life are on a different path than his.

Juraj was a hockey player who wanted to succeed. His mind was wrapped on hockey and his team. You were a student who worked as a waitress. You were keen on graduating and seeing what life has for you. You didn’t have a plan for your future when he was already trying to achieve his plans and dreams. 

You and Juraj were total opposites yet you two were attached to each other. You couldn’t understand what’s so special about him since you shared way different interests than him. Also, your character was way different than his. It was like you were made for each other despite all the differences. 

You exchanged your phone number with Juraj and spent the whole summer talking to him. He was showing you what he’s doing and pretty much for 3 months he was just resting and travelling across Europe. You at the same time were working and trying to earn as much as possible to work less during the semester. 

When Juraj returned to Montreal, you two were going out together at least once a week. You two were from different planets and every time one of you were talking about life, the other was confused. It was a bizarre experience for both of you but still, you two couldn’t stop. You were a quiet person, a listener when he was a loud person who couldn't stop talking. 

This was something new for you because your friends were similar to you but Juraj was different. There was something in him that made you fall in love with him. You didn’t say it out loud to him, scared of his reaction. You were well aware that there’s a huge difference between you two and this would never work. 

Juraj felt the same about you. He was slowly falling in love with you but he hasn't said a word to you about it. He felt like you see him only as a friend. He was scared that he might be too much for you and didn’t want to ruin the friendship to see if you two can work as a couple. 

You’ve met his teammates and Juraj met your friends. Everyone could tell that you two are way different but at the same time, you two fit perfectly to each other. Everyone was trying to convince you and Juraj that you should risk and tell one another about the feelings but there was a barrier that none of you wanted to break. 

Everything changed during the Halloween party. Juraj asked you to be his plus one and you happily agreed. When you two arrived, you went straight to the bar. One drink turned into another and before you could know, you were drunk. Juraj was having his eyes all the time on you to make sure you’re alright. During the taxi ride back to his place, you confessed to him. 

“I’m in love with you” That was the last thing you said to him before you fell asleep on his shoulder.

Juraj could swear that his world stopped. He couldn’t believe that the girl he's obsessed with shares the same feeling as him. He brought you back to his place and put you in a bed without disturbing your sleep. He went to his bedroom and tried to sleep but his head was spiralling thinking all the time about what you said in a taxi. 

The next morning you woke up with a terrible hangover and saw that you’re not in your place. At first you freaked out but after a second you realised that you’re in Juraj’s place. In that moment, the memory hit you of what you said to him. You didn’t know what to do and there was no escape from his apartment without being caught by him. You decided to confront him and face your actions. 

You stepped out from the bedroom and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. Juraj was sitting on the couch and immediately stood up to talk with you. For the first time, you two felt awkward around each other. 

“Are you feeling alright?” Juraj asked you.

“I’m fine. You?” You returned to question and took a sip of water. 

“I’m good” Juraj ran his hand over his face before he spoke again. “About yesterday…” He couldn’t finish because you stopped him.

“Can we forget about it?” You pleaded. 

“We can’t because…” Juraj took a deep breath. “I also love you. I didn’t say anything, scared that you might not feel mutual but when you said it yesterday, I knew I have to tell you this” 

“Prove it” You said and put the glass of water on the counter. “Prove, that I’m not delusional and I’m not making this up” 

Juraj, without thinking, put his lips on yours. This kiss was full of unspoken emotions that he shared towards you. You melted under his touch. Despite all the differences between you two, you were soulmates and nothing could change it.

[stinkysam]

Choi Subong “Thanos” - Trop bon, trop con.

Warning : drugs, nudity, masturbation mention, suicidal ideation

Genre : angst

Synopsis : “could I request a thanos x male reader where it's before the games, & they've been childhood friends, mixed complicated feelings & the reader let's Thanos stay in his apartment?? it results in the reader finding out abt Thanos using the crypto app & kicking him out, & it kinda just ends with the reader assuming Thanos already got over him because he hasn't heard from him😭 (when it's really just Thanos in squid game)” - anon

Reader : male (you/yours)

A/N : bold is in English // trop bon, trop con = too nice, too stupid. // you’re both not out sexually to each other

You’ve known each other since your first school years, always together, one could almost never be seen without the other. Always going to his house or yours, constantly being invited during the holidays and birthdays, he even followed you when you and your family went away during the holidays.

Even after he stopped studying to focus on his rap, you continued seeing one another. You were always gravitating toward Subong and him toward you.

Somehow along the way, feelings bloomed as neither of you spoke about them, being each other’s first man crush, preferring to focus on your personal goals than to try anything.

You briefly lived together in a flat, rent paid by your parents as you both tried to find a job to get some money, and when he made enough, he left to get his own apartment.

You did the same, finding your own place, even though it was small.

Years passed and you both kept changing jobs, you were trying to find something that you’d like while he kept getting fired for almost always the same reasons.

Bad customer service, talking back to everyone, arriving late and leaving too early.

“Why did you flip your boss off ?” You asked, taking a sip from your drink.

“I didn’t know there were cameras !”

“Of course there are ! It’s a convenience store ! They all have cameras by the cashier !” You sighed. “What are you gonna do once you’ve worked at every place in the city ?”

“Hey, I didn’t get fired that much. The way you talk makes it sound like the whole country fired me.”

“You have been fired by the whole country.” You snickered, patting his hand as he slapped yours away, grabbing his drink. “Why did you do it ?” You asked again and he side eyed you.

“He asked me to be nicer to the customers. I literally was ! No one is nicer than me !”

“Nicest man on earth flips people off. Yeah.”

“Shut up. There was this lady, I said ‘Hello’ she didn’t reply. I thought maybe she was deaf so I repeated myself louder. Still no answer so I said it again. Nothing. Again. Nothing. And when I said it once more she said she heard me the first time.”

You laughed as he glared at you, crossing his arms.

“You’re laughing ? I was literally being super nice and polite !”

“Why couldn’t you just drop it and move on ? Why did you want her to answer so bad ? Aaah, she was cute, right ?” You pointed at him, shaking your head exasperated.

“What do you take me for, huh !? Some old ass lady, tsk. I’m always fired because of them !”

“Yeah, definitely not because you flipped off your boss.”

“Ah, stop it with that ! You would’ve done it too !”

“No. I’m an exemplary worker.” You replied, posing.

“Such a humble bastard.” He scoffed as you laughed again.

“Such polite words from the nicest man on earth.” You said, making his chuckle. “I bet you didn’t just flip him off lazily, you put all your strength in it, face scrunched up, fist shaking and all.”

“How do you know ?”

“I’ve seen the tapes, man. No, I fucking know you duh. You think we’ve known each other for only a few months or what ?” You sighed, leaning against the back of your chair.

He seemed to think for a moment, drinking before gasping. You raised an eyebrow, wanting to know what he just realized.

“I don’t know what my life is without you.”

“It would’ve been sad and dark without me.” You smiled, nodding solemnly. He raised his glass quickly, threatening to empty his drink on you if you continued as you laughed.

“Since kindergarten ?” He finally said after a little while.

“Yeah I think.”

“Woah, I’ve been supporting your ass all this time ?”

You snorted, making a slurping sound with your straw as you took a sip.

“Stop it, you love me. None of the girlfriends you had know you the way I do. Who has been a constant in your whole life ? Meee ~”

He scoffed.

“No way I’m dating you. Pain in the ass.”

You chuckled.

“I never suggested we date. I’m too good for you anyway.” You sighed, nodding once more.

“Shut up, you’re the worst between us two. You kept fumbling your girlfriends, almost making me believe you have feelings for someone else.”

“You can talk.” You scoffed.

“What does that mean ?”

You only shrugged, ending the conversation there.

He doesn’t care much about the jobs he does, knowing his rap career would take off someday and get him rich. Then he could have the place he wanted and not have to care about some shitty ass job anymore.

He already had a small fanbase, all he needed was a little push to get more famous.

Then it happened. As they looked for participants to a rap battle on TV, Thanos went to the audition and finally got accepted after many tries over the years. He immediately quit his job after only a few days of working there. Well, quitting is a big word, he simply stopped showing up without giving any news.

Everything was going so well, Thanos had managed to make it till the last round. And then, he forgot his bars, not remembering what he was supposed to rap next.

He looked around himself, eyes wide and mouth agape as he quickly understood he was fucked. And he was right, he lost like that, the money and contract to officially debut with a label passed through his hands to stay with his rival.

You stared, grimacing as he looked completely lost, sitting back in your seat defeated as everyone around you cheered for the winner. You felt so bad for him.

He tried to challenge the judges’ decision but it was too late, they and the public had made their choice. His mic got quickly cut off to let the winner talk and express his joy.

He had lost.

“Is it because of the stuff you take ?” You asked driving him to a bar to drink.

“Don’t start with it.”

“I’m not ! I just read it can fuck up someone’s memory ? Amongst other things.”

He didn’t reply, instead popping a pill into his mouth as you rolled your eyes. He was too pissed off to talk.

After a few days he crashed at your place, depressed, claiming he had no money to pay his rent, but your flat was too small for two people to live in. Only one bed, no couch, barely 15m² to share together, the small kitchen with no oven a few feet away from the bed, and the smallest bathroom you’ve ever seen, the sink and toilet next to the shower, barely leaving any room to move comfortably. And with Thanos with you it was worse.

Your bed was made for one, not two people, and with you two constantly tossing and turning at night, it was a nightmare, kicking and hitting one another, snoring into each other’s ears, drooling on each other’s clothes.

You’d sometimes wake up cuddling together though, bedsheets on the floor, but neither of you ever mentioned it, quickly pulling from one another as you had to leave for work.

You had seen each other naked more times than you could count and had to learn to take a shit while he was showering, and vice versa.

There also wasn’t enough hot water for two people.

“We could shower together.” He said once as you ate on the small table by the bed. You nearly choked on your food.

“Why would we do that ?” You asked after recovering, heart still beating fast.

“I’m tired of taking cold showers. It’s fucking pissing me off.”

“Dude, I’m the one who takes cold showers the most because you take so long before I can go in.”

“Still.”

“Plus, there’s barely any room for one person so two people in the shower ? Let’s just fuck already it’s the same.” You sighed.

It was his turn to choke on his food.

“Why the fuck would it be the same ?!”

“Because we’ll be so glued together it’ll be the same fucking thing ! Are you stupid ?”

He sighed. Sometimes you were driving him mad.

“And I don’t wanna see you shower from up close, I already see enough when brushing my teeth or pissing.”

“I’m just trying to find solutions.”

“Well, they’re shit. Keep looking pretty and eat instead of trying to ‘find solutions’”

He rolled his eyes, glaring at you, taking another bite of his food.

You still tried it.

Serious mistake.

Naked, you both stared at each other awkwardly before turning the water on. The silence was so loud if not for the sound of the water hitting your bodies, the shower felt even smaller and cramped than usual.

“This is literally the worst.” You said, clenching your teeth, praying to not get hard. You were not doing so well.

Thanos said nothing, focusing as much as he could on thinking about stuff he hated to not get hard as well.

You decided to both turn around, ass to ass, but it still felt too much.

“No, I can’t-” You tried to walk out of the shower but Thanos was faster, almost running away, nearly slipping on his way out, catching himself by the corner of the wall.

Then he came back, slowly, one hand hiding his dick as he grabbed his towel before leaving again.

You both took care of your hard on, slightly confused as you wondered why you still tried this bad idea, images of the other naked flashing in your head.

When you were done showering, you let him get in without a word as you walked out, tower wrapped around your waist.

It was awkward for a few days as you both refused to talk about what happened. But at some point Thanos had enough of it.

“Stop staring at me like I forced you to try it !”

“I’m not ! I agreed to try because I was curious.”

“Then why are you making it weird !”

“You are ! Not me !”

Silence.

“I didn’t get hard.” He suddenly said and you stared at him.

“…Me neither ?”

“Good.” He nodded. Still looking away.

Silence again.

“But uh, I saw your dick though, you looked pretty… hard.” You chuckled, half nervous, half amused.

“I was thinking about sexy girls !”

You laughed.

“Okay.” You replied. “Sure.”

“And I saw yours too when I went back for my towel.”

You hummed, not knowing what to say.

“Sexy girls too ?” He asked.

“Y- yeah, definitely, yeah.” You nodded and he hummed in response.

That’s the only time you spoke about it.

This was the push you needed to look for a new flat.

And so, you quickly left for a bigger one.

But a bigger one meant a bigger rent to pay, which meant you had to work two jobs to pay for it. But at least you had two bedrooms, an oven, a distinct living room with a couch and a TV, a bigger kitchen and a bathroom almost the size of your old flat. You still had to share it, yelling at him each time he didn’t clean up after himself, but at least you had enough hot water for the both of you and no more reason to shower together.

You were busting your ass with two jobs you hated to pay the rent and groceries while Thanos stayed at your shared place. He was still taking his pills each time he went clubbing, which was almost every night.

You wondered how he got the money for it, but didn’t think further, believing he still had some money but not enough to pay for big things.

Or so you thought.

One day as you got back home from work, you found Thanos’ phone on the table, unlocked. You grabbed it to give it back to him, briefly eyeing what was on the screen as it buzzed in your hand.

You saw an app you yourself had on your phone. You used it to invest in crypto money, you had paid around 910 000 won to collect some coins, waiting for the right time to sell them back, hoping one day you’ll make enough to help you pay the rent, if not pay you some vacations.

“Here’s your phone.” You said, handing it to him. “I saw an app on your phone. You invest in crypto too ?” You asked, plopping on the couch next to him.

He quickly thanked you before nodding, focusing back on the TV.

“With what money ?” You suddenly asked out loud. You were curious.

“The one I won by rapping. I made some money with the second place.” He simply said.

“Huh ?” You looked at him confused, he managed to make money ?

“But I lost it all.”

“Oh.” You continued looking at him.

“It’s because of that bastard MG Coin and his fucking Dalmatian token.” He groaned, unlocking his phone, clicking on the app and showing you the coin.

“How much did you…” You began asking as you suddenly saw the amount he had put on it. “500 million won ?!” Your eyes grew in size. Did you read correctly ? You grabbed his phone to have a better look. Was it really what he had invested ?

“Yeah. That’s why I was so pissed of the other d-”

“Are you fucking serious ?!”

It was his turn to look at you, slightly confused and startled by your tone.

“You had 500 million won and never thought you could help me pay rent or buy groceries or pay for Netflix or Disney + or fucking Spotify or whatever else we pay monthly ?!”

He looked at you then in front of himself, not knowing what to reply.

“What the fuck, Subong. I literally work two jobs to makes ends meet every month, I always pay you stuff thinking you have no money and your out there with 500 fucking million won !?”

You stared at him, feeling your anger grow and grow as he stared at you, sheepish.

“I work in the restaurant business, do you know how shitty the people are ? Customers and colleagues ? They’re so comfortable they don’t even bother hiding their bigotry. The other day two colleagues lusted after two teenagers, barely 14. And even then I’m being nice, because 14 surely wasn't their age. My colleagues are in their thirties. And I can’t even say anything or I get fired and if I get fired I can’t pay the rent. Rent that you can pay since the very fucking beginning. Are you fucking kidding me ?!”

“[Name]-” He turned to you, placing a hand on your knee.

“No, fuck off !” You stood up. “What the fuck do you take me for ? A fucking pigeon ?! How long did you plan to use me like that ?!”

“That’s not-”

“Out.” You cut him off, pointing at the door.

“What ?”

“Take your shit and get the fuck out.”

“But I don’t-”

“Have any money ? Yeah, tell that to other pigeons. Maybe they’ll be dumb enough to believe you.”

“Come on, I’m serious, I just thought-”

“I’m serious too ! Get the fuck. Out. Of my. House !” You yelled, grabbing him, forcing him up and pushing him to his room. “Put your shit in a bag and leave.”

“[Name], please, I didn’t mean to. I promise I’ll find a job and help you.”

“Too late, don’t care, get out.” You replied dryly, entering his room, grabbing a backpack, opening his wardrobe and shoving his clothes inside.

“Stop it !” He rushed to you to try and stop you but you pushed him away.

“I’ve busted my ass for months ! Do you know how many times I thought about dying because of how much I hate my jobs ? But then shaking myself up because I thought I couldn’t leave you alone, believing you needed help ?!”

“I’m sorry-” He said, words you rarely ever hear from him.

“Shut up. I hate you.” You quickly replied, throwing the backpack at him. “You better help me pack your shit or I’ll throw it through the window.”

Thanos continued trying to get you to pardon him as you put his stuff into bags, but you refused to listen, hands on his back as you pushed him out of your shared apartment.

You locked the door behind him.

It was his turn to get angry, kicking the door, yelling at you to open it.

He gave it one last kick before leaving, cursing you out.

You were devastated, not believing he could’ve paid for things since the beginning. Why did he lie and said he had no money to pay his rent ? Why did he never help you pay for stuff ?

The first few nights he slept in his car, messaging you to let him back in. You didn’t know what to do.

You didn’t really want to kick him out, but you were so mad and upset, feeling betrayed. You worked two jobs and he was at home, swallowing his pills and clubbing, enjoying his peace doing whatever he wanted while you felt stuck and trapped by your jobs, not knowing when you’ll be able to relax as well.

You wanted to accept him back to your shared apartment but each time you received a message or call from him your anger returned, ignoring him.

Thanos knew he had fucked up big time and he didn’t know how to make you forgive him since you refused to let him talk to you.

Walking on a bridge, he thought about ending it all. Feeling abandoned by the world.

Then his messages stopped. No longer bugging you to let him in, to forgive him, trying to beg his way into your no longer shared apartment.

You thought he had finally understood to give you time, but days passed, then weeks. You tried to call him but you went straight to voicemail. You sent him messages, all unread. Did his phone die ? Did he not find a hotel room in the city to stay at ?

You called his parents, but just like you, they hadn’t heard from him in a while. So you went to the police to report a missing person.

Then months passed and still nothing from him. You were beyond worried. He was missing and it was your fault. If you hadn’t kicked him out, he would’ve been here with you.

Although you still struggled with paying the rent, you refused to leave the apartment in case Thanos would come back. You didn’t want him to find someone else where you both lived. Daily, you checked his platforms in case he might post, like or repost something, but nothing. Even his fans were beginning to worry about his lack of activity.

You were beginning to panic. What if he died ?

Where ? Why is his body still not found ?

A year had passed and still nothing, time continued passing as you kept thinking about him. The police eventually told you they were soon stopping the research. He was most likely dead.

Fuck. You shouldn’t have kicked him out. It was impulsif and not thought through. You should’ve told him to come back. You should’ve forgiven him. You should’ve gone after him sooner.

You forever regretted your actions.