#maybe that’ll be my at work project

[frnkiebby]

It always amazes me how you were a fan of all of these bands back in the day, but you never got into the used and Fall Out Boy, arguably two of the biggest bands in the scene and the two bands that are most associated with My Chemical Romance.

yea it does me too.

i had to be really weirdly careful with my music and if i wanted to listen to a big big band bc then i had to literally change all their names and shit in the mp3 files on my computer so i could fly them under the radar and hope my parents didn’t care enough to try to decipher lyrics to make sure they were appropriately christian.

there were a good few years where i could only listen to mcr off my friends ipods at school bc of a music sweep even with changing the names and shit.~🎃

[ham1lton]

just a normal girl.

pairings: charles leclerc x comedienne!reader.

summary: just a normal girl is a stand-up netflix comedy special performed by actress and comedienne y/n l/n in which she discusses her childhood, her horrible first meeting with her boyfriend and being a twenty something in london.

author’s note: based on that one anon’s dream but i changed it up slightly! also eid mubarak to all my muslim followers celebrating today! this is for you <3 i also have a new taglist so please help me out by filling it if you’d like to be tagged in future works!

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JUST A NORMAL GIRL TRANSCRIPT.

Y/N L/N: so, charles decides to take me shopping. fancy, right? we walk into this chic little boutique and, surprise, the shopkeeper only speaks french. now, i don’t speak french. at all. my entire french vocabulary consists of 'oui' and 'croissant.' meanwhile, charles is chatting away like he’s in a romance film, all suave and shit.

[audience laughs]

Y/N L/N: and there i am, standing there, smiling and nodding like i understand every word. for all i knew, charles could be telling the guy, 'this is my new project. she thinks monaco is in morocco. and i’ve been dared to make her over like that one freddie prinze jr film.' and i’m just like, 'yes, absolutely. très bien.’

[audience laughs harder]

Y/N L/N: so charles is chatting to the guy in french as they go through the boutique and he inevitably finds this gorgeous dress. he hands it to me, all excited, like ‘try it on! you’ll look stunning’ and i look at the price tag. why was this dress more than my rent? for that price the dress needs to fill my fridge, put shelter over my head and fly like a magic carpet.

Y/N L/N: i exit the changing room, because when a cute guy asks me to do something… i can’t say no. i can’t help it! i can’t say no to pretty faces!

[audience laughs]

Y/N L/N: charles is looking at me in this dress like i’m an angel from above and i’m calculating the amount of ramen noodles i’ll have to buy to smooth over my overdraft. maybe if i wear it every day for the next sixty five years, it’ll work itself out? then charles chats to the shopkeeper and points at me and then at charles and i’m thinking… what the hell are they saying about me. he’s probably telling charles ‘this girl is not for you. she’s very clueless and can’t handle the high life you are accustomed to’.

[audience boos the shopkeeper]

Y/N L/N: oh no, don’t boo him. he was right. i was clueless and unable to handle the high life. charles looks at me smiling like ‘should we get the dress?’. on the inside i’m like, NOOOOOOOOOOOO but on the outside i’m like, oh sure, yeah, why not. but he rings it up and says ‘that’ll be 32,489 euros please’ and i want to die. but then charles just hands over his card and i remember… i’m dating a guy who probably earns my life savings in a day. life goals, am i right ladies?

[the ladies in the audience cheer]

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liked by netflix, charles_leclerc and 483,938 others.

yourusername: tfw your netflix special is number one for two weeks so ur man buys u two flower bouquets. guys get please me to three so i can get another <3

also i have had a recent influx of followers? so hi. i’m y/n, i act and i think i’m funny sometimes. if you’ve watched my netflix special? mwah <- that’s me kissing your forehead.

view all 2,737 comments

charles_leclerc: not you cheating on me in your caption ☹️🙁

-> yourusername: sorry you had to find out this way <3

user1: omg is she muslim?? and a hijabi??

-> user2: finding yn… inshallah they find her.

user4: NOOOO HE’S TAKEN….

-> user4: BY A BADDIE TOO…. NOOOOO

maxverstappen1: made a netflix account to watch you and it was good! 👍🏻

-> yourusername: thank you user maxverstappen1. always appreciate the support from grassroots fans such as yourself.

arthur_leclerc: wait was the kidnapping story real?

-> yourusername: obviously! i have never lied in a comedy special. exaggerated, perhaps, but never lied! what sort of woman do you take me for?

user6: why can’t we see your face in any of these pics?

-> yourusername: because you can see my face on netflix in hd in my new comedy special - just a normal girl :)

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JUST A NORMAL GIRL TRANSCRIPT.

[spotlight on y/n l/n standing center stage, audience is attentive]

Y/N L/N: the first time charles invited me to a formula 1 race. i know, right? fancy! i mean, i usually spend my weekends binge-watching netflix in my pajamas, and suddenly, i’m in the vip section at a grand prix. talk about a plot twist.

[audience laughs]

Y/N L/N: so, we get there, and i'm already feeling out of place. everyone is dressed to the nines in designer outfits, and i’m wearing the only fancy dress i own, which is basically just a black dress i got on sale at h&m. but i’m trying to fit in, pretending i know what’s going on. spoiler alert: i have no idea what’s going on.

[audience laughs louder]

Y/N L/N: charles is introducing me to all these important people, and they’re all speaking this mix of french, italian, and who-knows-what. and i'm just standing there, smiling and nodding, because that’s my default mode in these situations.

[audience laughs]

Y/N L/N: then, charles introduces me to his team, and they start explaining all these technical details about the car. and i’m thinking, 'wow, this is fascinating,' but honestly, it sounds like they’re speaking another language. they could be telling me the car runs on unicorn tears, and i’d just nod along, 'ah yes, absolutely. unicorn tears. very efficient. not very sustainable though….’

[audience laughs]

Y/N L/N: alright, so while we’re on the topic of my boyfriend, let me tell you about the time my family found out i was dating a rich formula one driver. you’d think they’d be excited for me, proud even. but no, my family? they just saw dollar signs.

Y/N L/N: so, i’m visiting my family for the holidays, and everything is going well. we’re having dinner, catching up, and then my aunt, bless her heart, leans over and whispers, 'is it true? are you really dating a formula one driver?' and i’m like, 'well yes, aunt sarah, it’s true.'

Y/N L/N: now, my family is not subtle. at all. within minutes, it’s like they’ve formed a council of war. my uncle pulls out his phone and starts googling charles. my mom is like, 'how much money does he make?' and my dad is suddenly very interested in the price of sports cars.

Y/N L/N: i’m sitting there, trying to eat my mashed potatoes, and they’re plotting how to get charles to invest in my cousin’s failed business. my cousin, who once tried to sell homemade kombucha and ended up giving half the neighbourhood food poisoning. that cousin.

[audience laughs heartily]

Y/N L/N: my brother, always the opportunist, chimes in with, 'hey, maybe he can get us a discount on a new ferrari!' like it’s a shein code that you can input on the website and i’m just sinking lower in my chair, wishing i could disappear.

Y/N L/N: so, i finally snap. i stand up and say, 'look, i know i’m broke, but i’m fine. i don’t need to use charles as an atm. he’s not a walking bank account, he’s a person.' and they’re all just staring at me, like i’ve grown two heads.

Y/N L/N: then my grandma, who hasn’t said a word all night, just quietly stands up and says, 'well, if he’s that rich, maybe he could at least buy us a new dishwasher. the old one is on its last legs.' and i’m like, 'seriously, grandma?'

[audience laughs louder]

Y/N L/N: but you know, through all this, charles has been amazing. he’s patient, understanding, and he never makes me feel bad about my financial situation. i’m broke, but i’m fine. and honestly, i think that’s what makes us work. i keep him grounded, and he... well, he reminds me that sometimes, it’s okay to splurge on the extras.

[audience cheers and applauds]

Y/N L/N: but here’s the thing about dating someone like charles. the highs are incredible, but there are lows too. there are moments when you feel like you’re in a fairy tale, and then there are times when reality hits you hard. like, after that amazing day at the race, we got home and charles was still buzzing from the win. and i… i was just exhausted.

[audience quiets down, listening intently]

Y/N L/N: i remember lying in bed that night, charles fast asleep beside me, and i couldn’t help but think about how different our worlds are. he’s out there living his dream, racing cars and traveling the world, and i’m just trying to keep up, trying to fit into a life that sometimes feels so foreign to me.

Y/N L/N: it’s hard, you know? being with someone who’s so extraordinary when you feel so ordinary. there’s this constant fear that one day he’ll wake up and realize he deserves someone who belongs in his world, someone who isn’t just pretending.

[audience is silent, reflective]

Y/N L/N: but then i look at him, and i see how much he loves me, how he looks at me like i’m the only person in the room, and for a moment, all those doubts fade away. because maybe, just maybe, being a normal girl is exactly what he needs in his extraordinary life.

[audience applauds softly]

Y/N L/N: thank you for listening, everyone. you've been amazing! enjoy the rest of your night. i know i will!

[spotlight dims, y/n exits to a heartfelt applause]

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liked by ynwifey, f1wags and 587,828 others.

yourusername: birds of a feather, we should stick together 🎶

tagged: @charles_leclerc

view all 34,937 comments

user1: SHES SO PRETTY

-> user4: BADDEST BITCH

user9: mashallah sis! you look gorgeous :)

*liked by yourusername.*

user10: a billie fan!!!! omg!!

user89: charlesyn is so cute. funny gf x pretty bf.

-> user12: the way she is also pretty gf but he isn’t funny bf 😔

landonorris: no one wants to see happy couples on the timeline thanks x

-> yourusername: unfollow me x

-> landonorris: but who will make me laugh then 😔

-> yourusername: knock knock 😋

-> landonorris: who’s there 😁

-> yourusername: single 🙀

-> landonorris: single who? 🤨

-> yourusername: single you! still waiting for a punchline and a date 😊

-> landonorris: 😔

-> randomstalkerfan1: i’ll date you lando! :D

-> landonorris: would rather stay single thanks x

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[ahsokaismyqueen]

Idiotic Decisions Pairing - Steve Harrington x HendersonSister!Reader Summary - Working on a project with douchebag Steve Harrington was not something you were looking forward to doing. However, you're surprised to find that maybe he's just a little less of a jerk than you thought. Word Count - 2.2k Warnings - Language and season 1 Steve, but that's it! Steve Harrington x HendersonSister!Reader Masterlist

Of all the things that you thought you might have to do in high school, partnering with Steve Harrington on a project was the one you probably wanted to do the least. Even less so did you want him to know where you lived and be in your house, but one, you had to be there when your brother got home, and two, you wanted the home field advantage. 

“I still don’t see why you don’t just blow him off. You can come over and help me work on my new campaign. I had this great idea -”

You rolled your eyes. “Eddie, I’m not blowing off this project. It’s like twenty-five percent of my grade, and if I leave it all to Harrington I’m sure to fail.” 

Eddie snorted over the phone. “Don’t you have like a 98 in that class?” 

A sigh left your lips. “Yes, and I’d prefer to keep it that way. I need all the help I can get for scholarships. We’re gonna run like hell outta here remember? I can’t do that without some help.” After a moment, a thought struck you though. “Wait, don’t you have your own project to do? For Ms. O’Donnell?” 

“What’s that? Oh, sorry, my Uncle’s calling me to do some stuff around the trailer. I’m going to have to let you go.” He rattled off. 

But you knew he was lying. “I know damn well Wayne’s at work, Eddie.” 

“Bye!” Then there was nothing on the other end but a dial tone. 

Glancing at the clock in the kitchen, you let out a groan, knowing that Steve would be here any minute, and started cleaning off the table so you two would have some space to work. By 5, the time Steve had agreed to be there, everything was clean and your notes were laying out on the table for the two of you to use since you were sure he didn’t have any. 

Then it was 5:30, and he still wasn’t there. 

6:00

7:00 

7:30 and there was still no sign of Steve Harrington. 

By that point, you had grabbed a beer from where you had hidden them in the back of the fridge, and had taken up a spot on the couch with your new book, The Gunslinger. You almost didn’t answer when the knock sounded at your door, but you were curious as to what his excuse might be. 

Steve Harrington stood on your doorstep with what you were sure was supposed to be a charming grin. “Hey, Henderson.” When you stared at him without saying a word, the grin started to fade, and he fidgeted around. “You gonna let me in or?” 

You brought your beer to your lips and took a sip, continuing to stare him down for a moment, and then you took a step back, shutting the door in his face. Turns out you didn’t care what his excuse was. You sat back down on the couch and opened your book once again. 

Steve started trying to talk to you through the door. “Come on, Henderson, basketball practice ran late, and then I had to call Nancy-” 

You let out a snort and flipped the page. 

“Just let me in. I promise I’ll do whatever you say, all the grunt work, hell, I’ll even write, ‘I will not be late.’ Like a hundred times if that’ll make you feel better.” He pleaded. 

Hmmm . . . That would be amusing. 

“Henderson, seriously, what’s it going to take? I can’t fail this class-”

“What are you doing here?” 

You leapt out of your seat and ran to the door, opening it with a big grin. “How did it go?” You asked Dustin. 

Your little brother mirrored your grin. “It was awesome! We didn’t get finished though.” 

You nodded, expecting that. “Campaigns take forever sometimes, but it’s worth it in the end.” 

“Will was trying to attack the demogorgon, and when he rolled the dice, it flew off the table, then it took forever to find it.” 

“Was it a thirteen?” You asked. 

Dustin shook his head. “It was a seven, but Mike didn’t see it, so it didn’t count.” 

Letting out a laugh, you lifted Dustin’s hat to ruffle his hair. “Sneaky. I like it.” 

“Are you two speaking English?” 

You had forgotten Steve was there until he spoke. You shot him a scowl, but didn’t respond to him. “Come on, as awesome as that sounds, you’ve got to get to bed.” You told your little brother, wrapping your arm around his shoulder and bringing him inside. You tried to shut the door behind you, but Steve snuck in before you could. 

“What is he doing here anyway?” Dustin asked again, glancing back at Steve as you tugged him to his room. 

“Being inconsiderate and disrespectful of my time. Which is what I should have expected.” You replied without looking at Steve who was following behind the two of you. “Brush your teeth, lights out in ten.” You told him. 

Dustin groaned. “Fine.” 

“Are you having to babysit your brother tonight or something?” Steve asked. 

You didn’t want to respond, but you got the feeling that he was going to keep pestering you until you did. “No. My mom’s just asleep already.” 

Steve glanced down at his wrist, and then at you. “At 8:00?” 

Something about his tone made you snap. “Not that it’s any of your damn business, but her medication makes it hard for her to stay awake.” 

Steve seemed to recognize the defensiveness in your tone, holding up his hands in front of himself. “Sorry, I’m not used to a quiet house by 8:00. My dad’s usually three beers in, yelling at my mom about how shitty and stupid I am at that point.” 

You paused for a moment, then narrowed your eyes at him. “I’m not going to feel sorry for you when you show up three hours late to work on a project that’s like a fourth of our grade.” You shoved past him, bumping into his shoulder as you did. 

He still followed you. “I’m not trying to make you feel sorry for me - shit, Henderson- ” you froze as Steve’s stupidly large hand wrapped around your wrist. “I’m really sorry, okay? You’re right, I wasn’t respecting you like I should’ve been. It was shitty of me to show up so late.” 

It surprised you. His apology sounded sincere. You turned around to face him, and Steve let go of you. “Well . . . I’m glad you’re self aware enough to know that was shitty.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest. “Other girls may let you treat them like that, but I’m not Harrington. I’m not going to do all the work because you . . . Flutter your eyelashes at me or something.” 

Steve grinned, raising an eyebrow at you. “Flutter my eyelashes?” 

You felt heat rush to your face, but tried to brush it off. “I’m serious.” 

“Right. Right. Sorry.” He said. “No fluttering of eyelashes, got it.” 

Taking a deep breath, you decided to lay down the rules. “I know we don’t get along, but for the sake of this project we need to work together. Which means I won’t call out all the ways you’re a douchebag, and you’ve got to give me at least a little respect.” 

Steve stared at you, and you couldn’t help but move restlessly underneath his gaze. There was something about his eyes that was just . . . Intense. “That sounds fair.” He said, leaning against the doorframe. “Do you still want to work tonight, or do you want me to leave?” 

Honestly, you were kind of surprised he was asking. It was almost . . . Considerate. “I - uh, I guess we can go ahead and work tonight. It’s not like I’d be going to bed any time soon anyway.” 

His smile was back now as he spoke. “All right boss, lead the way.” 

You rolled your eyes, but there was a small smile on your face as you led him to the kitchen. 

————————

“Can I be honest with you Harrington?” 

Papers were scattered around the table in every direction, no longer a neat stack like how you guys had started, but you found yourself not minding. Steve was bent over a sheet of construction paper, drawing lines with a ruler, biting his bottom lip in concentration as he tried to get the line perfect. At your words though, he looked up at you, raising his eyebrows. “You mean that’s not what you’ve been doing the entire time?” 

You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t expect you to actually try. I’ve seen how you are in class.” For years you had watched Steve show up late, eat snacks, and flirt with girls instead of paying attention. You hadn’t expected it to be any different this time. 

He bent back over the paper again, starting a new line. “Yeah, well, maybe I just wanted to prove to you I’m not the idiot you think I am.” 

It wasn’t often that you regretted words that you said, but that might have been one of the times. You thought back to what he said earlier about his dad. How many people did Steve Harrington have in his life that thought he was stupid? It made you uncomfortable that you were now on that list. “Maybe, ‘makes idiotic choices’ is what I should have said instead. You know, like, being friends with Tommy and Carol.” 

Steve didn’t say anything for a moment, and you thought you might’ve hit a nerve. “Aren’t you the one who’s friends with the drug dealer? How long before you think Munson’s locked up?” 

Yep. You had hit a nerve, and now he had to. “Yeah, well at least Eddie’s not fucking miserable like those two.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest. “He cares about people. He took me in when I had no one because everyone thought I was weird for reading fantasy books and not talking to anyone. That sound like something Tommy and Carol would do?” 

Steve slammed down the pencil and ruler. “People don’t think you’re weird because you read. People think you’re a bitch who goes around sleeping with people all the time because someone caught you coming out of a room at a party right before Jason Carver.” 

“Jason Carver cornered me in that room while I was waiting on Eddie, tried to get me to make out with him, got pissed when I wouldn’t, then went outside and spread the rumor that I was a whore.” You hissed. You didn’t know why the words left your lips. The only person who knew about that night was Eddie, and now for some reason Steve Harrington. Oh well. It wasn’t as if you could take them back. “And everyone believed him without a second thought, didn’t they?” You said, leaning back in your chair. “Including you.” 

Steve sat in stunned silence, his eyes never leaving your face. You thought you might have broken him when he finally spoke. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

You shrugged. “He didn’t actually do anything. He scared me for a second by grabbing my arm then I kicked him in the balls so hard he passed out. I guess wounding his ego and dick at the same time must have been too much.” 

“You should’ve kicked him harder.” 

“Probably.” 

Silence filled the room again, neither one of you quite knowing what to say after your confession. You didn’t regret saying it. It was almost a relief to know that someone else knew you weren’t what everyone thought, even if it was Steve Harrington. He was still looking at you, his eyes tracing over your face as if seeing you in a new light. Then he glanced down at the paper in front of you and smirked. “That’s the shittiest flower I’ve ever seen.” 

“What?” You glanced down at your own paper, a frown appearing on your face. Okay, so maybe your circles were a little lopsided, and your stems kinda thick, but it wasn’t that bad. “No it isn’t!” 

“Oh, it is. I’m just glad to find something you can’t do.” 

You let out a laugh that turned into a snort. Your eyes widened, and you covered your mouth as heat rushed to your face. 

Steve’s smile grew in delight. “What the hell was that? Do you have pigs in here somewhere?”

“You’re never to repeat that you heard that, do you hear me Harrington?” You threatened. 

“Will it make up for me making the idiotic decision to believe those rumors about you?” He asked. 

Your heart did a funny thing then. Almost gave a jump, and for some stupid reason you felt your eyes get a little watery. “It’s a start.” 

————————

The next morning at school, you met Eddie by your locker. “So how was it?” He asked as soon as you saw him. 

How could you possibly answer him? “It was . . . Not as bad as it could have been I guess?” You said, starting to unlock your locker. “How about you? I hope Wayne didn’t keep you up so late you didn’t get finished with O’Donnell’s project.” You said, calling him out on his bullshit. 

Eddie grinned sheepishly at you. “Yeah well - What the hell is all that?” 

As soon as you opened your locker, at least ten sheets of folded up paper had fallen out. You bent to pick one up and read what it said. It turned out they all said the same thing. 

I will not be late. 

You looked up and spotted him a little ways down the hallway, waiting by Nancy Wheeler’s locker. When he saw you watching him, he gave you a salute. 

You smiled.

[melon-fodder]

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: college setting, fem-bodied reader, mentions of a toxic ex, stalking, reader is Matsumoto’s stepsister, shorter reader, clothing described, first meetings, cunnilingus, reader is in a vulnerable place okay, we aren’t judging, dirty talk, reader’s pussy described as “pretty”, “sweet”, “chubby”, Hiragi’s POV

Note: this will either be a fun standalone or part of a bigger project. It depends on the flow as I keep writing more. For now, I hope you enjoy this intro~

Is this Hiragi? I’m Yodai’s sister. He said I could call you if I need help on campus.

Hiragi reads the text message a couple times, wondering if this is an introduction or a cry for help, but before he can ask, three dots show up beneath the first message.

I think my ex is stalking me.

Well, that answers that. Straight and to the point.

Getting up from his seat, Hiragi grunts to his curious friends, “somethin’ came up,” then strides out of the café and to his bike.

Yeah it’s me. Library right?

He doesn’t wait for a reply, just shoves his helmet over his head before pulling out of his parking space. The university campus is only a few minutes away, but that’s more than enough time for some creep to climb the steps and corner someone in a dark alcove—specifically his good friend’s sister.

There are only a few cars in the lot, late night studiers or maybe profs trying to get shit ready for tomorrow. It’s a little past nine, and most of the lights of the main building are turned off.

Yeah, how’d you know?

Your bro told me you work there. Omw up now.

He takes the concrete stairs two at a time, easy considering how long his legs are, all the while scanning his surroundings. There isn’t anyone lurking in the shadows that he can see, but who knows who might be sitting in one of the cars outside?

The glass doors aren’t locked even though they probably should be, so Hiragi is able to walk right in, scanning each sign—lab, tutoring—until he reads ‘Library’ and follows the arrow pointing down the corridor.

It’s dim inside, the only light source coming from the lamps that hang over the checkout counter, and underneath, bathed in their soft glow, is a single figure.

Hiragi clears his throat, and you nearly fall out of your chair, “Jesus—” eyes wide with panic when you spot him.

“Just me,” he assures. Like that’ll do anything. It’s not as if the two of you have ever met before. You only know of each other because of Matsumoto.

Your voice is a little shaky as you take in a few deep breaths and question, “Hiragi?”

He nods, moving slowly toward the counter so that he doesn’t scare you even more, knows he doesn’t exactly look welcoming in his leather jacket and ripped pants, not to mention the fading bruise on his cheekbone.

He’s surprised at the fact that you don’t look any more inviting than he does. From what Hiragi can see, you’re dressed in a dark t-shirt partially covered by a rolled up flannel, and your hair is tied into two messy buns. Your lips look bright but raw, like you’ve been chewing on them, and there’s smudged makeup around your puffy eyes.

Stop staring.

You don’t look like you should be working in the college library; you look like you should be making drinks in a dive bar or at some no-name punk show. You look like the type of girl Hiragi might try to impress.

Not that it matters. He’s here for one thing: keep you safe as a favor to your brother.

“Thanks for coming,” you finally sigh, sliding out of your chair and bending down to grab your bag from under the counter. “I know this must seem so lame, but I swear I’ve seen Yuki’s car pass by, like, six times.”

“Not lame,” Hiragi tries. “Dude sounds like a creep from what Matsumoto’s told me.”

“Creep doesn’t even do it justice,” you mumble, slinging the old backpack over your shoulder then reaching to turn off the row of hanging lights. “Fucking psycho is more accurate.”

Yukinari Arima—Hiragi was already a little familiar with the guy just because of previous scuffles. When he heard his friend’s sister was dating him, he was a little caught off guard. Matsumoto has been the fun-loving type for as long as Hiragi’s known him, but letting his sister hook up with someone like Arima? Definitely not in his character.

“I’ve tried to get her to break up with him, but all she does is call me a hypocrite and shut me out.”

“She came home cryin’ again today. Wonder what that fuck-ass did this time.”

“If he ever lays a hand on her, I swear to God I’ll kill him.”

Hiragi gets it. He understands being protective over the people he cares most about.

And when you round the corner in your scuffed up Converse, tighter-than-hell leggings, and smile up at him— “seriously, I really appreciate this, Hiragi,” —he can easily see how you bring out that big brother instinct in his friend.

“Not a problem,” Hiragi shrugs. You lock the doors from the inside with an Allen wrench, and he tries not to not to admire the shape of your ass as you walk around. He usually doesn’t notice things like that when first meeting a girl, but the subtle sound of your leggings swishing with every step draws his attention without his permission.

Fuck’s sake, dude. She’s Matsumoto’s sister. Don’t be an idiot.

“I owed him a favor anyway,” Hiragi adds. You peer at him suspiciously while you both make your way out of the building.

“And, I’m that favor?”

Your eyes are still a little red from what must have been your crying earlier, but they still twinkle with something a little playful.

Trouble.

“Guess you could say that.”

You laugh quietly, but it dies when you reach the parking lot and your focus shifts to your surroundings. There’s nothing but a few parked cars, Hiragi’s bike, and some litter that the wind catches and pushes along the ground.

A dog barks in the distance, startling you, and you actually squeak when Hiragi puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Easy. M’not gonna let anything jump at you.”

A shaky breath leaves your chest and you steel yourself, apparently believing him, and walk the rest of the way to your car with a little more confidence. It’s a little hatchback, nothing modded except for the speaker system that starts blasting as soon as you turn your keys in the ignition.

“Not in that headspace anymore,” you mutter, the familiar rock song fading when you quickly twist the knob.

“I’ll follow behind to make sure he isn’t tailin’ ya,” Hiragi says.

A laugh gets caught in your throat, and he matches your expression—curious, eyebrows raised— “you, a scary guy, are gonna follow me home… to make sure another scary guy… isn’t following me home?”

“I—” Hiragi pauses. Doesn’t make much sense when you put it like that, but still. “Gotta pick your poison, I guess.”

You nibble on your lip again, now sitting in your driver’s seat while looking up at Hiragi from below. The thoughts that churn in his head are… weird. Not like him.

Matsumoto really should have warned him about how damn pretty you are.

“Fine. But only ‘cause I’ll need you to know where I live if he ever shows up there.”

“You don’t have to justify it to me,” Hiragi chuckles.

Your expression turns serious again, voice a little sad when you tell him, “you wouldn’t believe the things I’ve had to justify these last couple years.”

Fair. You probably haven’t had a guy, aside from Arima or your brother, anywhere near your home in a while, and your ex doesn’t seem the type to appreciate other men spending time with you.

Hiragi doesn’t know what to say to that. The only response he can come up with is an honest, “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

He watches in absolute horror as tears well up in your eyes, but you turn toward the windshield and away from him before things can get too awkward.

Jesus, when’s the last time a dude was nice to you?

“It’s not far from here,” you state. “I’ll drive slow.”

Hiragi will be able to keep up no matter how you drive, but he doesn’t bother saying so. He’ll just follow your lead.

Student housing is not what Hiragi expected you to be living in. Small, modest, cheap. At least it’s not shady, though, many of the unit lights still on inside.

“I tried to tell my stepdad that dorms were fine. Not like I need a lot of room, but he said I deserved privacy,” you say as you walk with Hiragi to your front door. “It was probably a blessing. I don’t know if I’d be able to handle all the eighteen-year-olds.”

He’s not planning on going inside, just wants to make sure you get in safely, but you pause after unlocking your door and ask, “do you mind sitting with me for a sec? I’m just… I don’t know. Nevermind.”

“I can stay,” Hiragi answers. “It’s okay to be kinda shaken up. Break up wasn’t long ago, was it?”

He follows behind you, crosses the threshold, no idea what he’s getting himself into.

“We did the on again off again shit for a while. The final split was a couple months ago, but it wasn’t until he found out I was moving that he started getting…”

“Scary?” he offers.

You nod. “Texts and calls from burner phones. His friends conveniently popping up around town. And I swear I keep seeing his stupid car everywhere. Maybe I’m just being paranoid.”

“What kinda car does he drive?”

Rolling your eyes you describe his Nissan as ‘obnoxiously loud’ and ‘modded to hell and back’. “It’s hard to miss.”

Hiragi stays in his place against the door, not wanting to impose. He glances around at the parts of your apartment that he can actually see—beige walls, wood flooring, small couch that doesn’t look broken in yet. The tiniest kitchen he’s ever seen is tucked into a corner, a ladder off to the side that leads up to what’s probably your sleeping space.

It feels cramped to be honest. Decent for a single college girl who spends more time on campus, but Hiragi feels more and more claustrophobic the longer he stands here. Then again, the tightness in his chest might have nothing to do with the apartment and everything to do with the way you’re staring at him.

He can’t read your expression entirely. There’s curiosity there, and… appreciation, he thinks. Admiration?

Attraction. That’s it.

You’re attracted to him.

Which really does not bode well considering Hiragi has been struggling to keep his eyes to himself.

“I have a weird question,” you state, and he swears his heart drops into his already upset stomach. “It’s embarrassing and cringey, but I figure I’ve already made myself look like some stupid girl who can’t defend herself and—” You ramble, and he lets you, watching you get flustered all by yourself before you finally blurt, “do you think I’m pretty?”

Hiragi blinks.

“Sorry. It’s just been a long time since anyone—and you’re a guy, so I feel like you can make that judgment ‘cause I don’t know, I just don’t feel like—”

“Definitely.”

You stop mid-sentence (was that even a sentence?) and get all doe-eyed again.

“Yeah?”

Damn, Arima really did a number on you.

“Yeah. I shouldn’t really say anything since your brother would kick my ass—or he’d try to—but,” he stalls, distracted by the vulnerability that’s been etched into you. “You keep lookin’ at me like that and I might have to show ya how pretty I think you are.”

He’s not sure where that last part came from. Absolutely did not mean to say it out loud, but now it’s there, and he can’t take it back, and this is not how Hiragi expected this night to go.

You’re slow to smile, like you’re still a little in shock, but when your lips start curling they don’t stop until you’re grinning sideways at him.

“Better be careful saying things like that to a girl like me.”

Hiragi pushes off the door, takes one long step to stand directly in front of you. You’re a good bit shorter than him, enough that he has to tilt his head downward to keep eye contact, but it’s cute the way you have to crane your neck to look at him.

“Yeah? What kinda girl is that?”

Fuck. Fuck. He isn’t supposed to want you. He told Matsumoto he would keep you safe from the pervy assholes around here, and now he’s acting like one of them.

“The kind who’s had to fake all her orgasms for the past three years.”

His dick twitches at the idea of you cumming at all, and Hiragi reaches up, hooking a finger under your chin to bring your face even closer to his. He doesn’t lack confidence by any means, but it’s rare that he’s this bold.

Something about you, though… the nervous babbling or your ass in those leggings or the way the word ‘orgasm’ flowed off your tongue so casually…

“Poor thing,” he murmurs in a low voice that makes you shiver for him.

Your gaze flits to his mouth for a moment, meets his again, and then you whisper, “show me how pretty you think I am.”

Your cheeks are hot under Hiragi’s palms when he grabs your face, crushing his lips against yours in a fevered kiss he could never have predicted.

You whimper immediately, clutching the collar of his shirt before frantically shoving at his jacket.

Oh, you need this, don’t you? You need someone to scratch that itch your ex never could.

Hiragi shrugs out of the leather then walks you backward toward your couch, his tongue sliding against yours as he maneuvers you to sit on the armrest. You tear your own jacket off, arms flying up when Hiragi starts pulling your shirt off. The bra you have underneath is made of soft material and does nothing to hide your hard nipples. He unclasps it with one hand, feels you smile into the kiss.

“Had some practice, have you?”

He smirks, “a bit.”

You yelp when he shoves you, sending you falling back onto the cushions so that he can get to the waistband of your bottoms and pull. You shimmy to help him, and once they’re off Hiragi is ready to spread your legs and feast on what’s between them only to find your knees locked together.

“What? Gettin’ all shy on me now?”

He’s not gonna force you to keep going if you don’t want to, but fuck, his cock is already painfully hard.

“No, I just… it’s been a second. I’m not fully, um, scaped.”

Hiragi snorts. “I’m not some frat boy bitch. A little hair ain’t gonna bother me.”

You nibble on your lip but eventually start to relax. Hiragi speeds up the process, looming over you while pressing your knees apart, and when his eyes land on what you were so worried about, his mouth starts to water.

The cutest, chubby pussy he’s ever seen, already wet for him. You’ve obviously ‘scaped’ recently, hair past stubble but nowhere near the point of curling—not that he’s ever minded that—but your insecurities are stupid.

He tugs you toward him so that your hips are lifted against the armrest, exposing more of you to him. Hiragi spreads your folds with his thumbs and licks his lips.

“Look at this sweet pussy,” he groans, pressing the tip of a finger into your drippy little hole. “All this for me?”

You let out something between a moan and a cry, nodding awkwardly, and your voice breaks when Hiragi leans over you to look at your face, sliding a long finger all the way inside of you without warning. You can take it, he knows, already soft and slick so there’s no resistance.

“You don’t even know me,” Hiragi states, hushed and a little condescending. He doesn’t know you either, but he sure is ready to stick his dick in you.

Your eyes roll, back arching, and you clench around his finger. When he curls it the way he’s done many times before, stroking against your swollen g-spot, your jaw goes slack.

Arima really couldn't do this for you? What a fucking moron.

Hiragi knows you’re gonna cum for him. He’s gonna make you. And fast. He just keeps stroking over that doughy bundle, rubbing circles over your twitching clit, and sure enough, within a matter of minutes your thighs are tensing and you’re squirting all over his shirt.

He shoves his face against your pussy, nosing between your folds as he laps up the cum still leaking out of you, forcing more and more out with each thrust of his finger.

“Oh fuck, fuck—I…”

Sucking your clit into his mouth, he keeps fucking into you, adding another finger and abusing your g-spot. You wanted an orgasm, and you’re gonna get one. Squirting is fun and messy, but he wants to get you to climax—one of those full-body, toe curling, tunnel vision kind of orgasms.

When your fingers curl in his short hair, holding him in place, Hiragi makes sure to keep up his current pattern, sucks with the same pressure, flicks his tongue in tandem with the movement of his fingers, never changing his pace as he pushes you further and further to the edge.

You begin to undulate beneath him, and even though he was about to use his free hand to palm his aching cock, he uses it to hold you in place, humming when your legs tremble over his shoulders.

“I’m—I’m, ohh~”

Your breath catches as your whole body opens up for Hiragi, pussy pulsing, blooming like a god damn flower as you cum hard, pushing out cream and another stream of squirt while your hips move against his hand uncontrollably.

“There we go,” Hiragi praises, “fuck, poor baby just needed to cum, yeah?”

“God, yesss,” your voice is thick and shaky, and you shiver almost violently as Hiragi fingerfucks you through your orgasm.

When the last few waves wash over you, and you’re only jerking from aftershocks, Hiragi removes his fingers only to replace them with his tongue. He licks inside your creamy cunt, cleaning you like the fucking gentleman he is, leaking precum into his jeans as he tastes every part of your hole he can reach.

You moan so pitifully for him, breathless and cute, and when Hiragi finishes, he kisses your clit like he’s married to it, sweet and chaste.

Wiping part of his face on his shoulder, Hiragi leans over you again, smirking at your fucked-out expression. Your eyes are glassy, smile dazed and goofy.

“Feelin’ a little more relaxed?”

You giggle drunkenly. “Mmmuch more, thank you.”

“Any time,” he responds honestly because truly, he could eat that pussy all day every day.

Am I pretty? What a dumb question. You’re a fucking masterpiece.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta get home and jack off ‘til my dick bleeds.”

Your snort is undignified and adorable. “You could always just fuck me.”

Tempting, but, “babydoll, if I fuck you in the state I’m in right now,” —he gestures to his confined, throbbing cock, “—I will hurt you.”

You groan like you want it, but Hiragi can’t. He would destroy you with how pent up he is now, would bruise every part of you and wouldn’t be able to stop. He probably wouldn’t even be able to pull out. Christ, to cum in that pussy…

“Call me if you need anything,” he tells you, helping you sit up again, eyes wandering to your bouncing tits. He wants to bite them, mark them up with his teeth and tongue.

Another time, maybe. Hopefully.

“Anything?” you play, displaying yourself while you stretch what are sure to be sore muscles.

Hiragi chuckles, “anything.” He pulls you into a long kiss, the kind that leaves him a little dizzy, and adds a mumbled, “just don’t tell your brother.”

He leaves after gathering your clothes for you, drives back to his own apartment at break-neck speed, jacks off so many times that his cock is raw by the time he’s finally satisfied.

Matsumoto is gonna be so pissed if he ever finds out, but it was kind of irresponsible of him to put Hiragi in this situation. You should come with a damn warning—caution tape tied around your neck in a little bow.

How is he supposed to focus on keeping you safe around town when all he can think about is tasting you again?

Of course, there’s always the chance that this was a one-time thing. You’ll wake up in the morning, feel better now that you’ve gotten what you wanted, tell Hiragi ‘thanks, but that was a mistake’, and he’ll have to agree with you because it was.

Fucked up as it is, he hopes you’ll make a few more mistakes with him.

[tanniefm]

all to you | jjk (m)

summary - why work on a boring school project when you could fuck your cute bestfriend?!

pairing - sub!jungkook x dom!reader (f)

genre - friends to lovers, pwp

word count - 2.6k

song inspo - all to you by sabrina claudio.

warnings - dry humping, dirty talk, praise, pet names, cumming in pants (EEEE), breast play, reader is described as squishy and squeezable so if you don’t like that my bad

a/n - i just desperately needed whiny koo. badly. also hey lol it’s been a while

♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°

You're gonna fail this class. Who the fuck even needs calculus anyway? You huff and continue to throw a silent temper tantrum while writing down equations that don't even make sense to you. You look over at your friend, Jungkook to see if he thinks anything of what the professor was saying makes sense, only to see him diligently writing in his notebook and seeming to retain every bit of information the man bellows out to the class. You chuckle to yourself, your Kookie, always hard at work.

You and Jungkook have been friends since you were kids. He's always been a little meek and quiet, a complete juxtaposition from your talkative and loud manner. You had found him cute, even back in elementary school. His bunny smile and his big doe eyes made you melt every time you looked at him. Being neighbors, naturally, you both were constantly around each other. He was content with listening to you talk your head off while he listened intently and nodded along. You two complement each other. Anytime either of you had a problem, the other was always there to give support. Your favorite thing to do though was tease him. Seeing his pretty face burn scarlet and shyly bite his lip after complimenting him gave you a strange sense of satisfaction. It seemed as though no one could get him so flustered but you. Of course, you tried not to dwell on it, but it's not like it wasn't there.

You watched the clock obsessively, desperately waiting for it to strike 4. You smiled once it did and quickly gathered your stuff to meet Jungkook by the door where he always waited for you. Calculus is your last class of the day so he waits for you to pack up to walk back to the dorms together. As you start down the road to your building, you turn and finally ask him what the fuck you're supposed to be doing for class.

“Oh, we have a test next Monday. It's on Convergence and Divergence, remember?” he asks. No, you do not, but you're sure you wrote down some notes somewhere so maybe that'll count for something.

“I do not have the attention span for this shit I swear. Every time he speaks I automatically zone out,” you groan. He giggles and shakes his head.

“I’ll help you study, don't worry,” Your dorm building comes into view as you keep your pace on the sidewalk.

“Great! My roommate won't be home for another couple of hours so we can get started at mine.” you smile.

You take out your key and unlock the door and walk into the living room to set both of your bags on the kitchen table. Jungkook gets his laptop and notebook and sits on the couch. He found doing your work out here is more productive than in your bedroom since you tend to get a little lazy when you're in the comfort of your room. You've argued with him about this plenty of times before, even though you're very aware he's right.

“You want anything to drink? Eat? I think I might have some ramen in the pantry,” you yell from the kitchen.

“Nah I'm good, thanks!” he yells back. His face illuminates from his screen as he starts looking up the test review your professor sent out for the class.

You come back with a bottle of water and your sweatshirt in your hands. Oh. You took it off. Ok, that's fine - Jungkook thinks to himself - the tight tank top you're wearing that seems to accentuate your boobs and curves perfectly is completely fine. He's fine, just focus on the google doc, JK. He tucks his bottom lip between his teeth and stares wide-eyed at his screen.

“Oh shit, I still need to get the stuff for Tae’s party, hold on,” you whip out your phone and search for the text Taehyung sent you about all the different types of snacks and alcohol he wanted.

“Oh no you don't need to do that, I'll get them it's fine!” he rushes to grab his phone and open his notes app. Tae had sent the list of errands he wanted to the group chat and hadn't given anyone a specific job on who needed to buy what. You had said you’d get some of them, but it seems Jungkook had the same intention.

“Kook, I can get them, it's whatever. Just let me look for what he said he needed,” you argue. He attempts to disagree again but you snatch his phone from his hands before he can get a word out.

“Hey, give it back!” he yelps. You cackle mischievously and turn away from him as he tries to grab his phone from your hands. 

“____! Give me my phone!” he whines. He sets his computer on the coffee table and tries to wrestle it from your grasp again. Just as he lunges for his phone, you put your hand on his firm chest and push him back onto the couch. You climb on top of him and straddle his waist. 

“What are you gonna do about it? Why don't you just take it, hm?” you look down at him and freeze. His lips are in a soft pout and he gives you the best puppy eyes he can muster. 

“Please ____? Just give it back, please?” he whines softly. Your breath hitches as you realize the position you're in. Your best friend is under you begging for his phone while you are staring down at him and straddling his tiny waist. His hands had clasped onto your hips and he absentmindedly squeezed them. Fuck he looks so good like this. Jungkook doesn't know what to focus on. The view of you on top of him like this is something he'll be fisting his dick to for weeks. He bets if he leaned up right now he'd be at the perfect level to kiss you. Maybe even kiss your pretty tits that are seemingly calling for him to suck bruises into. He can feel his jeans tighten as his eyes dart everywhere but your eyes and his face starts to turn pink. You mistake his flustered look for being uncomfortable and immediately attempt to apologize and shift off of him. As you make your move, however, you hear him gasp loudly. His grip on your hips tightens further and his face darkens to a bright red. 

“Oh my god I'm so sorry did I hurt you?” you rush out. He looks like a deer in headlights. Maybe you went too far?

“N-no. M’ ok,” he says in a small voice. You furrow your brows in concern and take his face in your hands.

“Are you sure? You're burning up, babe.” you rub your thumbs across his cheekbones as he stares starry-eyed at you. He offhandedly thinks you might've been an angel in your past life. He smiles gently and nods in your hands. He musters the courage to start rubbing his hands up and down your waist slowly. You feel so soft. He wants to hold you like this forever. However, his dick is starting to strain in response to the worried tone you're taking on. He'll never admit it out loud, but he loves how concerned you get over him. It makes him feel needed and special.

“I'm fine, ____, promise.” He hopes you can see past his white lie for once. Unfortunately for him, it's just then that you start to feel something press against your leggings. 

“Jungkook...are you...?” you say slowly. His eyes widen as his entire body stiffens. Fuck fuck you felt him. Oh god, now you're gonna think he's a fucking weirdo that can't control his hormones. He should've never come over. Now you're gonna hate him forever! You notice his eyes start to well up and immediately try to comfort him.

“No! No baby it's ok! I'm not mad or grossed out please no tears you know I don't like seeing my pretty boy sad.” Without thinking, you softly kiss his forehead. He stares at you in awe and sniffles. Your pretty boy. The words swirl through poor Jungkook’s head on repeat. Did you mean it? Is he really yours? Did you really think he was pretty? Do you think about him the way he thinks about you?

“Y-yours? I'm...yours?” he mumbled. His watery eyes are looking at you like you're the center of the universe. Although you didn't mean for the words to slip, you didn't want to watch doubt cloud his eyes if you were to take them back. So you lean down and smile softly. “Mhm, mine. Always mine,” you see him glance down at your lips the closer you get to him. He starts to close his eyes and you giggle quietly at how cute he looks awaiting your kiss. You brush your lips against his and lean back teasingly. He whines and chases after you. 

“You wanna kiss me, baby? Hm?” you smirk as you watch his eyes flutter open and give you a pleading look. “Yes, please. Wanna kiss,” he frowns. You notice his lisp is starting to show as you cause his brain to turn to mush. You like him like this. All whiny and pliant just for you. Your pretty boy. You guide his lips towards yours and caress your hands along his chest. All the sports he's been doing must be paying off since you swear you can feel every muscle in him tense. His tongue shyly comes out to twist against your own which causes you to sigh blissfully into his mouth. Your fingers brush over his nipples and you feel him gasp.

“Oh? Are your little nipples sensitive, baby? You want me to touch them?” he whimpers and nods. “Words, sweetie. You need to tell me you want me,” you say pointedly. For some reason, he feels like you're talking about more than just touching his nipples. 

“Yes ____. Please touch me…I want you,” he says bashfully. You smile and praise him for being so polite, which in turn rewards you with a toothy grin and a cute nose scrunch. You peck his nose before you resume your little make-out session. Your fingers brush over his nipples once more but this time start to circle them slowly. His hips buck as he lets out a small moan that you swallow. Your hands sneak under his shirt to touch them more directly. You slide your hands up his muscular plane and return them to his pebbled peaks. He starts to whine consistently which only makes you wetter. God, he sounds so fucking pretty. Why didn’t you think to do this sooner? You direct your kisses to his jaw and work your way down his neck. You gently suck on his pulse point and it sends him into a full-body shiver. You giggle and tug at the hem of his shirt. He quickly obliges, tugging it off and diving back into you to continue kissing. He thinks kissing you has got to be his favorite feeling in the entire world now. Your lips are so soft and plump, the vanilla-scented gloss you put on smears across his smaller lips, making him feel dizzy and uncomfortably hard. His hands start to squeeze your hips again. They feel so soft and cushy, he loves how squeezable you are. He wonders if your cunt feels just as soft. Fuck he needs you so bad. He starts to rub himself against your clothed center as you slowly take off your tank top. 

Seeing your boobs squeezed into your bra has him drooling. This has to be a dream come true. “Can I take that off too?” he says whilst completely honed in on your breasts. You laugh and nod, god could he get any cuter? He reaches around and clumsily fumbles with the hooks. He’s so horny he can’t even think straight. He already knows his boxers are drenched with how much precum his dick is producing. Once your breasts are freed, he takes a moment to fully take you in and the situation he’s found himself in. His favorite person in the world is grinding on his lap, half nude, and looking at him warmly. He’s definitely fucking dreaming.

He shyly dives his head into your neck and trails soft kisses down towards your chest. The closer he gets to your nipples, the harder he sucks. He wants to leave his mark, anything to prove that this is truly happening. Your weight on top of him and his hands feeling your soft skin is the only thing grounding him at the moment. You grab his ebony locks and guide him to where you want his mouth. As sweet as he’s being, you’re feeling just as needy for him. You grind a little faster which causes him to moan loudly against your nipple. His hand moves from your hips to play with the neglected one. His other hand encourages you to continue your pace on his swollen shaft. Back and forth, back and forth. This is pure bliss for Jungkook. 

Your living room is filled with the noises of pleasure. Anyone unlucky enough to be your neighbor will know that not a single studying tactic is being used right now. But you can’t find it in you to care. All you care about is hearing Jungkook moan as loud as he wants as he orgasms. You briefly consider giving him more than this. Maybe wrapping your lips around his pulsing tip, or even sitting on him directly with no fabric in between. The thought of getting him to ruin his pants is too good to pass up though. You can imagine how embarrassed he might become, but it’s ok, you’ll clean him up. At this you smirk and put your full weight on him, snapping your hips to gain speed.

 He gasps and his eyes widen. Why are you going so fast? At this rate, he’ll… “____ wait! I’m gonna-hngg-I’m not gonna last if you keep going!” You shush him gently and keep your pace. You need to see him crumble under you. He throws his head back as his hips can’t help but thrust into yours. His mouth opens and spills every sound he’s been trying to quiet down. He’s never felt this good in his life. His hand could never compare to this feeling. You lean down and whisper in his, “You gonna cum baby? Cmon Kookie, be a good boy and cum for me. Want you to ruin these pants.” He moans loudly and nods his head rapidly. He lifts his head to look at you as his eyes start to water. “I-I’m-fuck! I can’t! Please don’t stop,” he chokes out. Curses slip profusely from his lips as his moans rise in octave. Until finally, the dam breaks. He spills into his soiled boxers as tears stream down his face and confessions of his love for you leave his mouth. Your body shakes with your own climax and smile bigger than you ever have, you had a feeling he’d be the type to profess his love whilst cumming. He’s such a sweet boy. You tug at the back of his neck to slot your lips onto his.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he pants into the kiss. You both can’t stop smiling, this is everything you’ve ever wanted. You pull back with a line of spit still connecting you two. “I love you too, you know. So much,” you say as you gaze into his black orbs. He’s gorgeous, he has the same thought as he holds you close. His phone suddenly pings from your side. Damn, you had forgotten all about that thing. A message that makes you both simultaneously cackle and blush appears on the screen. 

Tae:

“Hey so I got the stuff for the party, let me know when ya’ll are done fucking or wtv and come over 😒”

[swamp-chicken]

distant worlds, ethubs, 2042 words

“You know, I really should have established a timeline for how long I would be your employee,” Bdubs sighs, stocking boxes with enderpearls. “Because I’m sure not doing this forever.”

Etho is sitting at his desk, idly doodling in the corner of his accounting book. “Aw, you’re not?”

Bdubs stretches, cracking his neck. “No! I need to go and build stuff! Make things! I have my own life, you know.”

Bdubs’ pink shorts are riding up a little. Etho tries not to look. “Mmhmm.” he says instead, his go-to when he loses track of a conversation. The doodle on his accounting book is starting to look suspiciously like a series of little hearts. Etho hastily scribbles them out. 

‘You know, you don’t have to sit here and supervise me. I’m not going to wreck your shop or anything.”

“Yeah, but…” But it’s been years since Etho has had Bdubs like this, working at his side. 

Bdubs sighs dramatically. “You don’t trust me?!”

Etho spirals the pen around the page. “You’re a trainee, I gotta keep you on the straight and narrow.” In this case, lying is less pathetic than telling the truth.

Bdubs huffs, but doesn’t argue. They subside back into silence, Etho stifling a smile at the muffled expletive Bdubs lets out when a shulker box closes on his hand. 

The pen travels across the page.

Years ago, a day like this wouldn’t have been so rare. 

 ———

Bdubs was humming and hawing over Etho’s newly-constructed bridge.

“It’s bad,” Etho sighed.  “You can say it’s bad.”

“No, no, no,” Bdubs chided. “No one’s saying that. It just needs a little… umm…“ he rummaged through his inventory, then brightened. “Leaves! Dude, just add some leaves.” He scattered some across the bridge railing with a flourish. “See? Fixes everything.”

Etho hummed, unconvinced. “And then maybe some… trap doors under those?”

Bdubs clapped his hands. “Oh yes, that’ll do it.”

Etho placed the trap doors and stepped back to take in the full picture alongside Bdubs. “I dunno…”

Bdubs’ hand dropped to his shoulder and squeezed. His touch was distractingly warm. “It looks great! Very rustic.” 

Etho tilted his head. It did look a little better than before. 

Satisfied that today’s job was mostly done, he went to go empty his inventory. Bdubs decided to stick around as he worked. He had been doing that a lot more lately. 

Etho put away the final stack of cobblestone and cleared his throat. “There’s actually, uh, something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Bdubs was tooling around on Beyonc, showing off her elegant lines and five-block jump.

Etho watched them circle the area and tried to breathe through his sudden spike of anxiety.“Remember the game we worked on? In the modded server?”

Bdubs kicked Beyonc into a flying leap that landed her on top of Etho’s chest stack. “How could I forget? All those hours wasted!”

“Well, yeah.” Etho chewed his lip. “I was actually thinking of building something like that here. In vanilla.”

“You can do that? With redstone?”

Etho shrugged. “I can try.”

Bdubs snorted. “Friggin’ genius.”

“The thing is, though…”

Bdubs nudged Beyonc forward and she landed gracefully before Etho.

“The thing is though…” Etho continued. “I actually may need help—” 

“I’ll do it,” Bdubs interrupted, before Etho had even finished his sentence. 

“You sure?” Etho hesitated. “I don’t want you to put you on the spot or anything…”

“Of course!” Beyonc reared and Bdubs sat comfortably astride her. “We’ll do it together. As a team.”

It was Etho’s first time leading a big project, so he wanted it to do things right. He chose the location and dug out the area himself. He even decided to build a worker’s shack where he and Bdubs could sleep and store all of their materials. 

In retrospect, Etho thought as he mapped out the floorplan, marking two separate bedrooms for him and Bdubs, he shouldn’t have been nervous about inviting Bdubs to join. Bdubs was a kind person and they had already tackled several projects together.

Etho paused. So kind that he probably felt like he couldn’t turn Etho down. So kind that he unflinchingly put up with all of Etho’s various idiosyncrasies and insistences. So kind that, any time they had a disagreement, he would capitulate with a laugh, easy and unbothered.

“You don’t have to help,” Etho blurted the first time Bdubs came to visit the worker’s shack. 

Bdubs was standing in the doorway of the bedroom Etho had built for him, but still a glimmer of uncertainty crossed his face. “What, you don’t want me here?”

There was a lump in Etho’s throat. “No, I just…I don’t want to force you into anything.”

Bdubs placed his bed down in the room like a declaration. “There’s no forcing.” He met Etho’s gaze and smiled, so warmly that Etho felt it in his chest. “I’m gonna decorate this place so good.”

Etho had worked with Bdubs before, but he had never lived with him. It was different, not having to say their goodbyes at the end of the day.  Instead, they walked back to the worker’s shack side by side, chattering about everything and nothing. It was different, waking up in the morning and finding Bdubs already in the kitchen, sleep-mussed and cooking, asking Etho how he liked his eggs. 

It was different— Bdubs’ toothbrush in the bathroom, the wet puddle after he showered. The flowers that appeared in the windowsill and the laughter that echoed through the halls. Prepared meals, easy company, warm nights of doing nothing much but enjoying each other’s presence.

It was a different kind of torture, Etho learned, having Bdubs so near and liking him so much. He was too kind, making eggs just the way Etho liked, telling stories that made him laugh, helping unflinchingly with the enormous task of building this arena. He was so kind that Etho couldn’t help falling in love with him. 

Nights were the worst, were the time when Etho felt furthest from any semblance of rationality or self-control. Lying in bed, staring through the darkness, he felt hyperaware that Bdubs lay just a short distance across the hall. So kind that he just might let Etho climb into bed with him. 

Etho rolled over and willed himself to sleep. 

Days passed, and then weeks. Spring was pushing into summer and the days were getting hotter. One particular day the heat was so oppressive that it even invaded the underground bunker where Etho had been doing most of the redstone wiring. 

When the sweat started dripping into Etho’s eyes, he had no choice but to take a break. He stood, wiping sweat from his face with his shirt bottom, and took a deep draught from his water bucket.

Bdubs, he knew, was probably even worse off. He was building outside in the blazing sun. Etho decided to check on him. He felt bad that Bdubs was working so hard on a project that Etho himself wasn’t certain they could finish. 

The end of the season had been announced a week ago and since then they had been scrambling to complete the arena before they had to leave this world and go to the next. There was a pit in Etho’s stomach every time he thought about it. This had happened to them last time, and now it was happening on the project that he was leading— the project that he had roped Bdubs into, that they had spent so much time on.

The worst part, though, was leaving their home. Etho didn’t know when he had started calling the worker’s shack home, but he had. It certainly felt more like home than any other place he had built on the server. He couldn’t deny that was in a large part due to Bdubs’ presence. 

He didn’t know what the next world would hold. He didn’t know if he would find an excuse to live with Bdubs again. He didn’t even know if Bdubs would want to work with him again, especially after this project had turned out to be such a thankless grind.

Etho found Bdubs building on the outskirts of the arena. He was shirtless, sweat beading along his shoulderblades. The sight was so overwhelming that Etho almost turned to leave.

Bdubs was grunting with the effort of building a wall, dropping blocks into place. “You don’t have to push yourself so hard,” Etho ventured once he felt more in-control. “I’m not even paying you.”

Bdubs put his blocks down with a heavy sigh. “You think at this point my ego’s not all tied up in this too?”

Etho snorted and drew near. “Good point.” This close, he could see the smile lines crinkling at the corner of Bdubs’ eyes. “Want a break?” He held out his water bucket and a snack. 

“Golden carrots!” Bdubs exclaimed. “You spoil me.”

He took the water bucket first, though, and drank from it deeply. Etho’s eyes were drawn to his throat as he swallowed, to the sweat droplets that chased each other down his torso. 

“Ahh,” Bdubs sighed, refreshed, and Etho snapped his gaze upwards. “Do you mind?” Bdubs asked, gesturing to the water.

Etho shook his head, confused, but before he had much time to ponder, Bdubs was tipping the bucket over his own head, sending water crashing down around him. 

Etho squawked and hopped backwards out of the splash zone.

“Oh,” Bdubs groaned, “Oh, that feels so good.” His hair was dripping, plastered to his head. Water was still sheeting down his body and soaking into his jeans. His eyes fluttered open and he caught Etho’s shocked gaze. He blinked. “You said you didn’t mind!” 

There was a note of petulance in Bdubs’ voice that wouldn’t have been there a few months ago, before they had started living in each other’s pockets. Before Bdubs—before he was comfortable—

Something inside Etho snapped. 

Bdubs lifted the bucket uncertainly, “I can get more water, I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

Etho carefully took the bucket out of Bdubs’ hands. 

“…Etho?” Bdubs was stepping back awkwardly, falling back on those sloppy forms that had gotten him killed by Etho more than once.

Etho grabbed Bdubs’ hand and Bdubs froze, blinking up at him from under his soaked fringe, eyes soft and worried. 

“You—“ Etho tried. “I—“ His ears burned with embarrassment.

He gave up on speaking and pulled the mask underneath his chin, pressed his lips to Bdubs’ hand.

“Oh,” Bdubs said. So kind that he didn’t pull away.

Etho turned Bdubs’ hand and pressed a lingering kiss to his palm.

“Oh,” Bdubs said again, voice hushed. “You don’t— do you?”

———

Etho wants to reach out, wants to take Bdubs hand, but he can’t. He’s too afraid Bdubs will run through his fingers like water, melt away like he has so many times before.

Bdubs is squirmy that way, surprisingly hard to pin down. One minute he’s swearing his eternal devotion, the next he’s mocking Etho, eyes gleaming with mirth. There’s months and years he’s not even there at all, times when he’s nothing but a sore spot in Etho’s memory. 

That day in the unfinished arena, Bdubs had kissed him. His hair had dripped into Etho’s eyes. Etho hadn’t thought anything of kindness that night when they curled together, Etho’s chin propped on his chest. Bdubs was too busy looking at him like he was a puzzle he had found the last piece to. 

Things change, Etho knows. That world ended, a new one began. Bdubs never kissed him again. 

It can never be like what it once was, Etho fears. Here is too distant from there.

“Done!” Bdubs announces. “Your enderpearls are all sorted. Now can I leave?”

Etho sighs, but he doesn’t have any good reason to keep Bdubs longer. “Yeah, that should be it for today.” 

Bdubs is already packing his inventory. He pauses on his way out the door. “You know, you didn’t even comment on my uniform.”

Etho is caught off guard. “I—I didn’t?”

Bdubs gives a spin. His legs are on full display. “I made it just for you!”

Etho swallows. When he meets Bdubs’ gaze, he winks. “I’ll see you tomorrow, boss.”

[strangerpringle]

hey! can u draw Hunter and Edric and how they first got together or met?

idk if u already did that but I would like to see it

Actually I just updated a Huntric first meeting script I posted here a while ago, just scroll down my page for a bit and you’ll find it :D

I’d love to make visuals for it but I don’t even know how long that’ll take and I’m working on bigger projects anyway lol but maybe one day :)

BUT I did draw these :D✨

[wikiangela]

fuck it friday

tagged by @hippolotamus @fortheloveofbuddie 💖

so I started a new wip lol 🙈 I really need to work on all the other ones but I'll get to everything haha so i'm not sure if any of this makes sense for buck tbh but idgaf, this is just me projecting my own thoughts and feelings™️ and making it about him processing his death lol 💁 it is gonna be pre-slash buddie tho bc obviously I have to 😂

ngl i kinda don't wanna share any of it but also i wanna share all of it bc i'm kinda loving how it's turning out haha so fuck it, here are two short snippets haha

___

Ever since he died, Buck has been feeling… off. Numb. Sad. Exhausted. He’s not even sure how to explain it, how to voice it, so he doesn’t. When people ask how he is, he says he’s fine. And he is, he swears he is. He’s okay, he’s alive, he has his amazing friends and family, a job he loves, everything is fine. But… but. He’s not sure what the hell is wrong, but a part of him is not fine. Hasn’t been fine since the lightning strike.

(...)

He doesn’t want to go home. He just wants to keep driving, wherever the road takes him. Driving is good, he likes driving, letting his thoughts wander, listening to music, having control of something. He thinks that’s it, that’s why. Driving is one of the few times he feels fully in control, his feet controlling the speed, hands holding the steering wheel and dictating the direction. Whether he makes it to work or gives into the thoughts that tell him to not turn the wheel and let his car crash into a tree or a building, or another car – it’s all up to him. He doesn’t- he won’t crash his car on purpose, but sometimes he wonders… maybe at least that’ll make him feel something. Make him hurt, make him scared, anything. Make him die, this time permanently- he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t, he swears he doesn’t. He just wonders sometimes, that’s all.

He doesn’t wanna go home, so he decides to keep driving. Just a few more minutes, to clear his head.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @gaydiaz @diazass @thebravebitch @silentxxsoul @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @arthursdent @911onabc @housewifebuck @watchyourbuck @underwater-ninja-13 @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @puppyboybuckley @weewootruck @buckaroosheart @spagheddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @rainbow-nerdss @malewifediaz @giddyupbuck @jeeyuns @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @hoodie-buck @diazsdimples @theotherbuckley @nmcggg @daffi-990 @jesuisici33 @disasterbuckdiaz @exhuastedpigeon @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess

[mc-bigenderenderdragon]

I know my blog doesn’t have as much reach in the mineblr community as it used to but if anyone wants to collab on some modding and texture projects PLEASE hmu.

I have two projects i’d like to work on, but they are big tasks and my health issues are making it hard to find the energy to work on them.

1. A resource pack based on LoafCraft (a really old texture pack) but renewed for 1.20 and beyond. As many collaborators as possible would be amazing, resource packs are BIG and a dedicated group to delegate folders to would make it a much easier task!

2. A mod that adds a lot of bugs so players can make their own bug sanctuary and collect them like pokemon :) i’d need people good at blockbench modeling and animating for this one. I’m not too bad at texturing and modelling myself as well but I can’t figure out the animating part and implementing it into mcreator. EDIT: This is in progress!!

Maybe I could also renew my cakes and pies mod too. That’ll be relatively easy bc i have all the textures made and stuff, i’d just need to re-implement it all which is slightly tedious. (Mcreator please add an easy cakes tool, you would make my life)

[orimuraa]

★彡Chapter 1: Too sweet for me

chapter warnings: profanity, partying, alcohol, drugs and smoking mentioned, minor violence, harassment, y/n gets hit on by a stranger, lmk if i missed anything!

wc: 2k

previous / next / masterlist

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the next morning, y/n wakes up at her usual time to get herself ready for the day. as she gets ready, she starts to contemplate whether or not it was a good choice to agree to sunghoon’s bet like that. all her life has been boring and y/n has always been known as the “good girl” but for once, she wanted to do something for herself for a change. but at the same time, she was nervous. nervous because of what happened last year…and the fact that sunghoon isn’t exactly the type with a great reputation…but pushing these thoughts out of her head, y/n walks out the door and heads to school.

as she’s walking, she’s looking down at her papers, making sure she has everything in order for her classes today. unfortunately for y/n, she was not able to see the person in front of her, causing her to bump into the figure, spilling her papers everywhere. “eep! ohmygosh- i’m so sorry-?” looking up to see who she bumped into, y/n locked eyes with park sunghoon. he was looking down to where y/n was on the floor, sunghoon’s concern was masked by his usual stoic expression. however, it didn’t stop him from taking her hand and pulling her back up on her feet. “hey, you’re already falling for me, huh?” he smirked once y/n was back on her feet. “hey!” y/n yelped, smacking his shoulder lightly. “geez, a simple thank you would’ve sufficed,” sunghoon chuckled handing her all the papers from the ground. y/n flushed a dark shade of pink out of embarrassment. “right! i’m sorry. thank you for helping me,” she said, fiddling with the hem of her skirt, realizing how rude she must've sounded. “no big deal. anyway, i was hoping to find you since it’s day one of our deal and i wanted to make a good impression,” sunghoon replied, winking at y/n. truth be told, y/n was slightly nervous about the bet now, remembering sunghoon and his notorious reputation of breaking hearts and drinking, but being the naive angel she is, y/n at least wanted to give him a chance. “oh yeah…about that…i wanted to make a couple rules if you’re gonna take me out for the next ten days,” y/n said. “i want you to quit drinking as much as you do because i hate the reeking smell of alcohol, and i also don’t really want to ride on that motorcycle.” she stated, making sure she had laid out her rules. but, it was hard for her to read sunghoon’s face as it was just expressionless. “if that’s what i have to do, then fine,” he sighed. jeez, he’s really down bad for this girl.

as they walked to school side by side, the silence was quite awkward to say the least. y/n was contemplating her life due to her heart skipping a beat whenever she locked eyes with the boy next to her, and sunghoon was contemplating his life because he’s never truly fallen in love with anyone like he is now. parting their ways when they arrived at the school, y/n told sunghoon to meet her at the library after school so they could work on their project.

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as y/n’s working on their poster, sunghoon is just flipping the pen back and forth between his fingers, not really understanding what to do. “hey, there’s a party at my friend jay’s house later, you wanna come?” he asked, breaking the silence and y/n’s concentration. “i’m not really a party person,” she said, placing down her pen to give her hand a break. “but if i’m allowed to invite my friends, then maybe..” y/n thought out loud. “if that’ll get you to come, then go ahead!” sunghoon smiled, his first genuine smile around her. he found her adorable with her hair framing her face perfectly and the look of concentration on her face. he had to resist kissing her right then and there! wait, what? why was he thinking that?!? c’mon sunghoon! get yourself together! he scolded himself mentally. “let me text my friends first. also, can you pleaseee help me? my hand hurts,” y/n whined, putting on a pout to try and make it more convincing. sunghoon’s eyes softened at the adorable sight in front of him and he nodded, scooting his chair a little closer to y/n’s to get a better angle of the paper. it was only then that y/n realized how comforting the smell of his cologne was. she had only really known him for a day and a half, yet she found some sort of comfort when she was around him.

once they wrapped up their poster, y/n told sunghoon she would get back to him about the party later that evening after she talked with her friends. “guys pleaseeee!” y/n begged. yunjin, miyeon, hanni, and keeho had all bombarded her with questions the minute she told them about her deal with sunghoon. “i know what i’m doing and i just want to have a little fun!” y/n cried out. “we understand honey but, remember what happened last year with you know who?? you were devastated! heart-broken! i hated seeing you like that and sunghoon is not any different from the situation last year!” miyeon argued back. non of them were actually mad, but they just wanted to protect their y/n as she had the tendency to be quite naive when it came to boys. “we’ll come with you to the party, but we aren’t done with this discussion. but if you feel like he’s truly the one and he’s actually gonna change for you, then by all means, go ahead and date him. and i mean that ynnie. but please, be cautious, okay?” yunjin adds on, sending y/n a soft smile along with the others smiling at her as well and nodding their heads. “oh thank you thank you thank you! now, let’s get ready for the party! i need to text sunghoon now,” y/n cheered, grabbing her phone and sensing sunghoon a quick message before she got up and went to her room to get ready.

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y/n decided to just go with a simple black dress that complimented her curves very nicely, and some silver jewelry. going with a simple makeup look, y/n was stepping into the car with her best friends, heading to her first ever college party.

as she walked through the door, she was immediately overwhelmed by the noises, smell of alcohol and weed, and the amount of people in the room. hanni noticed this and squeezed y/n’s hand to let her know that she’s right there for her. smiling slightly at hanni, the group walked further into the house, hanni and y/n making their way to the kitchen for some water, while keeho, miyeon, and yunjin went to go find their other friends.

“hey i need to go to the bathroom, are you gonna be okay for a couple minutes?” hanni asked, raising her voice so y/n could hear her over the loud music. y/n just nodded and turned back to nursing her water, hoping sunghoon would miraculously find her. as the minutes ticked by, and hanni still wasn’t returning, y/n had a million thoughts clouding her head. she was starting to think that sunghoon was just playing her and was out drinking and making out with other girls, and that she had been a mere bet between him and his friends. suddenly, the sound of someone pulling up a chair next to her knocked her out of her thoughts. turning to the person in hopes it was hanni or sunghoon, she was immediately met with a stranger who looked incredibly intoxicated. “hey there pretty girl, want to escape this lame party with me? i can show you a real fun time,” he slurred, reeking of alcohol and cigarettes. the two things y/n hated most in this world. y/n pretended not to hear him but unfortunately, that was a huge mistake. “hey, i’m talking to you!” he slurred once again, this time raising his voice and grabbing y/n’s arm. this made her stomach turn in the most unsettling way possible. scared to death, y/n could not form any words to try and get this man to back off. y/n inched slightly away from the man and tried to tug her arm back. but this only made his grip stronger. “p-please, leave me alone,” she whispered, not being able to speak any louder and practically shaking by now. but the man just ignored her and continued to move closer. “she said to fucking stop. so get your disgusting hands off of her,” a voice interrupted. whipping her head around, y/n saw her savior of the night, park sunghoon. “aw fuck off dude! i was here first,” the drunk guy laughed. this just ticked sunghoon off more. "i said, fuck. off," and with that, sunghoon swung his fist up and connected his fist with the jaw of the guy. crying out in pain, the drunk man held his jaw and shot a dirty look at sunghoon before running off. "oh y/n i'm so sorry, i should've found you immediately! are you okay? he didn't do anything to you right?" sunghoon pressed, checking y/n for any injuries. "no hoon i'm fine! don't worry. just a bit shaken up," y/n smiled, letting the nickname slide past her lips so casually. "hoon?" sunghoon questioned, tilting his head a bit. "oh sorry! do you not like it? forget i said anything!" y/n rambled, getting insanely flustered. "nah don't stress. it's cute. i'll have to step up my game and find you a nickname too," sunghoon chuckled, trying to lighten up the mood after the traumatizing event y/n just went through. "Y/N! are you okay? what happened? i'm so sorry i wasn't here for you! the bathroom had a line so it took some time and i-" hanni came rushing forward. "hanni, i'm fine. sunghoon here saved me from that creep," y/n said, pointing to sunghoon. "o-oh, uhhh thanks park. well in that case, i'm gonna go find the rest of the crew if that's okay with you. park, leave her alone and i will kill you." hanni threatened. "yes ma'am," sunghoon nodded, hoping he could give a good impression for y/n's friends and also cause hanni scared him a bit right there. "bye hanni!" y/n waved. hanni waved back and then disappeared into the crowd, leaving sunghoon and y/n alone. "thank you hoon. for saving me. i haven't exactly had the best experiences with men and that was really scary, so thank you for saving me. is your hand okay?" y/n looked up to sunghoon, examining his hand. "don't stress it ynnie. i'm sorry that this was what you experienced on your first day with me," sunghoon frowned lightly. "but yeah, my hand's fine. how about your arm?" he asked, noticing how your arm had a couple of red marks already forming from the drunk man's grip. "oh it's fine. a bit tender but otherwise okay..." y/n sighed, looking down at her red arm. "c'mon, let's get you some ice and get you out of here," sunghoon suggested. y/n nodded and took sunghoon's hand in hers and they weaved themselves through the crowd to escape the party.

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sunghoon had let all of y/n's friends know that he was taking her home and had gotten her an ice pack for her arm before driving her back to her dorm that she shared with her friends.

"hoon, can you stay with me?" y/n's voice was laced with sleep and barely louder than a whisper. how could anyone say no to that cute face? "anything for you princess," hoon whispered, realizing how whipped he was for y/n already. laying down next to her in her bed, sunghoon gently played with y/n's hair to help ease her to sleep. once he knew that she had fallen asleep. he adjusted himself comfortably, and whispered to the girl next to him who was in a deep sleep. "i'm sorry i couldn't save you in time. you're too precious for this cruel world. you're too sweet for me." and with that he let himself drift off to sleep, making sure that in the future, he would be a better person for y/n. he truly was trying to change for her and he was gonna prove to her that he's worthy of her love.

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yippee!!! chapter 1!! i'm sorry that it took kinda long but i hope you enjoyed! hoon is already so whipped for ynnie it's so cute.

taglist: @lelsforlino, @starfallia, @douxhoon, @woniefull, @kpislby, @yuvany, @mitmit01

comment or send in an ask to be added to the taglist! i'll try and update as often as i can ( ˶ˆ꒳ ˆ˵ )

[electricbathsalt]

To follow-up my last Hardcore Delusional take, I will be discussing the possibility that Chisaki being taken in by the Shie Hassaikai was actually planned. I’m not saying I necessarily believe this to be canon, just how I think it’d play into canon if it was. This post is long as hell, so simmer down and buckle up, if you so please.

Okay so, as was confirmed in chapter 419, Chisaki was in one of AFO’s facilities as a kid. Now the question to be begged is how he got out of said facility, when his quirk obviously holds a lot of power and potential, which makes it feel like AFO would’ve put at least some effort to keep Chisaki within his grasp.

So here’s the thought: He did. Chisaki didn’t truly escape the facility, he was just put into another one. Chisaki being taken in by the Shie Hassaikai was just to put Chisaki somewhere AFO knew about, so that his lesser project could be monitored and molded while he worked on his primary project, Tenko. Also maybe Chisaki proved a bit too rebellious/resistant? So AFO thought the best course of action would be to give him the false security of a new start so that he would be more pliable.

So, AFO got into touch with one of his contacts to take care of Chisaki in the meantime. And considering both the theory that Chisaki accidentally killed someone with his quirk when it manifested (maybe his mother) and also the likely dynamics of the facility he was in, it’d be relatively simple to introduce him to a parental/mentor figure who’d he then attach to and feel like he has to prove his worth to. Which, on top of this, said parental/mentor figure being some flavor of authority figure as well would probably deepen Chisaki’s feelings of admiration and respect towards them. And it needed to be someone who’d be able to easily blend someone new into their home without much suspicion, someone who has a life of secrecy, someone whose lifestyle would be a gradual immersion into crime, and who, behind the curtains, knows how to get people to look up to them and also subtly mold them to their desires. So basically, Pops (a Yakuza leader) was the perfect candidate.

AFO contacts Pops. They make a deal of some sort. Chisaki escaping and being taken in by the Shie Hassaikai is staged.

Now the actual process of Chisaki being in the Shie Hassaikai. Here’s where things get tricky.

They want Chisaki to feel indebted and loyal to the Shie Hassaikai and Pops so that he’ll listen to Pops and have the independent want to help the Shie Hassaikai however he can. They want to make it feel like the Shie Hassaikai are the only people that’ll accept him and care for him. That’ll make it easier for them to project their goals onto him, as they’re already pretty sure this mindset will start by itself in Chisaki’s head, and all they have to do is water it/not stunt it. Which leads into…

“I get that you’re trying to repay me for getting you off the streets, but ya always take things a little too far.”—Pops to Chisaki. One might say this is an argument against Pops negatively influencing Chisaki, but! I present: That’s simultaneously stoking the flames that it’s okay for Chisaki to feel indebted to him, BUT that it’s not okay for Chisaki to be too ambitious with it. If the Shie Hassaikai isn’t declining, there’s no motive for Chisaki to eventually agree to work under the League. Instead of harboring similar feelings of respect and indebtedness towards the LOV because they helped the Shie Hassaikai at their lowest, he’d most likely begin resenting them for “siphoning their spotlight”, or something along those lines, in the case that Pops would sign an alliance with the LOV, if that makes sense.

So yes, the idea was to get Chisaki to be devoted and hardworking, but to also keep him from doing anything too bold. The plan was that hopefully, he wouldn’t branch out too much, and when he did, Pops would simply smack his hand away.

Then Eri came into the picture. Something I think about but don’t really see anyone mention is how easily Pops remanded Eri into Chisaki’s care, despite her being dangerous in ways they didn’t yet know how to handle. Was he not at all worried Eri might accidentally kill Chisaki, too?

Anyway. Chisaki is appointed Eri’s caretaker. He’s assigned to figuring out what exactly is going on with her, and when he does, it doesn’t bode well for his begging-to-overflow ambitions that’ve been getting stamped down for years. He thinks up the quirk-destroying bullets + antidotes to make a monopoly on the market plan. He presents it to Pops.

Pops is decidedly not happy about this. That’s a plan that could completely ruin AFO’s (or so he thinks) and Chisaki is becoming way too enterprising and persistent with it. He finally decides to shut down the whole concept by using a fear tactic he knows will strike directly to Chisaki’s heart—threatening that Chisaki will have to leave the Shie Hassaikai if he considers anything like this anymore. (There’s also the idea that getting him to leave the Shie Hassaikai would make that yearning to be approved of/accepted have to get redirected somewhere else, since Chisaki currently seems the type to thirst for validation, which would turn him to the LOV/AFO more “naturally”. As a potential thought process behind Pops saying that)

This backfires,, to say the least. Pops had underestimated just how devoted (obsessed) and one-tracked (insane) Chisaki already was.

Now here’s the thing. It doesn’t seem very plausible that AFO wouldn’t have found out about Chisaki taking over the Shie Hassaikai—and he almost definitely did. Now here’s the other thing—that doesn’t necessarily mean he knew about the bullets. Especially since his inside source was taken out instantly after learning the specifics of it. Think about it: How did the initial meeting between the LOV and Overhaul go? I think if AFO knew about the bullets, he would’ve at least told Shigaraki, and Shigaraki would’ve told the LOV.

But backtracking, here’s some more quotes of Pops: “That again? You’re obsessed. Straying from humanity means the end of gangster chivalry, Chisaki. And people won’t follow such soulless heresy.” (Ironic on that last one), and another: “I can’t have you straying so far from our way of things.”

And finally, “If you don’t want to follow our way… then you should just leave.”

The language Pops uses can feel a bit strange or off sometimes, in the way that it feels a bit domineering/demeaning. Him ingraining it into Chisaki that he needs to “follow their way” could easily be written off as he just wants him to follow the Yakuza code of ethics, of course. But that’s the thing with pretty much everything Pops says. All of it could be seen as innocent, just as much as it could be seen as ulteriorly motivated. All of these could be genuine, but they could also be a means to try to keep Chisaki in place until AFO needs/wants him again. That’s the thing, ain’t it? It’s all ambiguous.

[queen-haq]

Fic: Grudgingly Yours (Part 6)

Fic: Grudgingly Yours (Part 6)

Summary: You are a general surgeon, working in a hospital that’s slowly sucking the life out of you when one day you’re given the offer of a lifetime.

A.K.A  - An arranged marriage fic :)

Pairing: Billy Russo x You

Rating: R

Masterlist (contains links to my other stories and this one)

PART 6

You were sitting at your desk in the home office you made for yourself, focused on projections for the urgent care when a knock on the door interrupted your focus. Billy walked in with his usual arrogant gait, his gaze locked on you.

“You look busy,” he drawled, coming over to where you were sitting. Standing beside you, he leaned back on the desk, casually flipping through the excel printouts you’d been reviewing.

“I am busy.” You grabbed the sheets from his hand and placed them back on the desk. “What do you want?”

“What’s all this stuff?”

“Work.”

“Didn’t you cash me in as a golden ticket? Thought that meant you never had to work again.”

“I used you to quit the hospital, not my entire career.”

“Could’ve just switched jobs instead of dragging me into your mess.”

“Then I’d be working for another soul-sucking board of assholes.” You sighed with resignation. There was so much to be done and it felt like time was running out. Part of the reason you’d agreed to Alistair’s plans wasn’t just for financial gain, but also to have access to his wealthy contacts who could be of use when it came to permits and donations. Unfortunately Alistair was still mad and you were drowning in bureaucratic red tape. “At this rate, that’ll happen anyway.”

“What are you trying to get done?”

“Like you give a shit.”

“I don’t. I’m just killing time.” He cocked his eyebrow. “So tell me.”

Sitting back in your chair, you cast a wary glance at the task list on your laptop screen. “Build a clinic in my old neighbourhood.” Dejected, you bit the inside of your cheek. “But that’s gonna be a lot tougher than I thought.”

“Why? Not enough funding?”

“Permit issues. I was hoping Alistair would help with that-

“But he’s pissed.” Billy tipped his head to the side. “And he’s a vengeful old prick.”

“Now you tell me.”

“I know people who can help.”

Surprised, you returned your attention back to him. “Really?”

“Yeah. Same family friends, remember?”

“How could I forget,” you muttered, angling forward. “But why would you help me? What’s in it for you?”

A small smile played across his lips. “Maybe I’m doing it out of the goodness of my heart.”

“You don’t have one. So what do you want?”

The smile transitioned into a fully amused smirk. “There’ s a wedding I have to attend. A good friend of mine. As much as I want to keep this shit between us a secret, he found out about you.”

“Aw, he wants to meet your wife.”

“Something like that.”

Laughing, you stood up. “Will we need to hold hands? Kiss? Pretend we’re newlyweds madly in love?” Looping your arms around his neck, you taunted in a sing-song voice. “Is this a ploy to get me to fall in love with you?”

“You’ve watched too many romcoms.” Despite his grumbling tone, his eyes twinkled with delight. “None of that shit is gonna happen, no matter how badly you want it.” He unlocked your arms from around him but didn’t let go of your hands. “You help me out, I’ll help you out. We have a deal?”

“How do I know you’ll hold up your end?”

There was that perfectly arched eyebrow again, questioning you. “You don’t trust me?”

“Not even a little bit.”

He squeezed your hands, the heat from his touch pulsing through you. “I should be the one doubting you. You tried to seduce me in my sleep.”

“Still telling yourself that lie? You know it’s bullshit.”You tried to back away but his grasp on you remained firm, pulling you closer. You wanted to kick yourself. Yeah you liked toying with him, it was fun seeing him get all worked up, but recently he stopped responding in anger and started pushing your buttons instead, and you didn’t like it. Not when the deep, dark pools of his eyes fixated on you, as if he was trying to absorb all your thoughts and feelings and secrets, and his proximity played havoc with your thoughts.

“Hate to ruin your fantasies, sweetheart, but we’ll be getting separate rooms at the hotel. I don’t want you attacking me again.”

You gave him a forced smile. “Fuck off, Billy.”

He laughed, finally releasing his hold on you. “And when we come back, I’ll introduce you to my contacts.”

“You better.” Needing distance from him, you exited the office and headed to the kitchen to grab a drink. Unfortunately, he followed suit. You did your best to ignore him but it was hard to do that when his gaze followed your every move. “Your friends know the real reason we got married?”

“You mean did I tell them you’re a golddigger?” he remarked dryly, grabbing some pretzels from a jar, and throwing them back in his mouth one by one. “Obviously not. Don’t want to look like a chump.”

“Great,” you groused. “That means I have to be nice to you.”

“Yes, sweetheart. It does.”

“Your friends are gonna be assholes too, aren’t they?”

“Curtis and I served together.”

Shit. Now you felt like an asshole since you’d assumed they were his high society friends.

“He’s saved my ass a few times over the years. I’ve saved his. Now he’s getting married and wants me to be his groomsmen.”

“When’s the wedding?”

“This weekend. In California.”

“Why so soon?”

“I didn’t ask.”

You scowled at him. “I thought you guys were friends?”

“Doesn’t mean we share every fucking detail about our lives. He asked me to be there, so I’m going. Not gonna fucking interrogate the man about it.”

Men, you huffed to yourself. Taking a sip of your drink, you watched as he languidly munched on the pretzels. By now you should have gotten used to his lingering stare but it still caught you by surprise when you found yourself scrutinized by him. These days he was checking you out more and more, and each time it left you unsettled. You contemplated calling him out on it, but with Billy being Billy, he’d probably claim you were being delusional.

Billy slid the pretzel jar back on the island before moving to the sink to wash his hands. Drying them, he sauntered over to where you stood, smoothly reaching over to grab the drink from your hand.

“Hey!”

A mischievous smile curved his lips as he took a sip of your drink. “Whole event’s gonna take place over a few days. Bachelor party on Thursday-”

“-Guessing I’m not invited to that?”

“Rehearsal dinner on Friday. Wedding on Saturday.”

“I have an important meeting this Friday.”

“Fly out after. We can meet up there.”

“Hope your friends are not boring, Billy.”

“You can always get them drunk and get ammunition on me.”

You rubbed your hands together with glee. “Oooh, there’s an idea.”

“And I’ll do the same with your friends next time I see them.”

“Absolutely not. Never gonna happen.”

He booped your nose, moving closer. “It’s only fair, don’t you think? You meet mine, I meet yours.”

It dawned on you how intimate the whole encounter was. The two of you teasing each other, being flirty, like an actual couple. And you liked it. You liked this side of him. The realization was unnerving, leaving you feeling suddenly awkward. “I have to get back to work,” you said, feigning a relaxed pose as you quickly put some distance between the two you.

“You alright?” he asked from behind.

You didn’t answer.

***

You swiped the card and entered the hotel room. Immediately the stunning view of the lush green rolling hills caught your attention. The room wasn’t big; however it was exquisitely designed with bespoke furniture and a Bohemian aesthetic. After unpacking your luggage, you hopped into the shower and got ready for the rehearsal dinner. Your outfit for the night was a chocolate brown cocktail dress that fit you well, with simple jewelry, latte makeup and red lipstick. Gold sandals with midsized heels provided the finishing touches for the look that left you feeling sexy and beautiful. No doubt Billy wouldn’t appreciate the effort but maybe there’d be other hotties in attendance. Hooking up was out of the question but that didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the view.

You followed the signs to the restaurant venue, drawing closer to sounds of laughter. Nervousness flitted through you as you walked in, taking in the group of strangers mulling around. You didn’t know these people, and they were bound to judge you as soon as they found out you were married to Billy – it was painfully obvious you weren’t the type of woman he would ever choose.

Taking a deep breath, you gave yourself a mental shake and a pep talk.

So what if others thought Billy was too good for you? It didn’t matter. It’s not like you had feelings for him or anything, so their opinion didn’t matter. You were here just to put on a show so he’d do you a favour. That’s all. Your eyes scanned the room, searching for Billy, when you were approached by a tall, black hottie.

“Hey.”

You flashed him a smile. “Hi.”

“You looking for someone?”

“I’m here for Curtis and Jessica’s rehearsal dinner?”

“You’re in the right place. I’m Omar, Curtis’s cousin. You must be one of Jessica’s friends?” He asked, reaching out to grasp your hand.

Oh, the man had game, with his gorgeous smile and the subtle way his eyes trailed down your body. “I’m married to one of the groomsmen.”

“Too bad. Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Me.” Billy seemed to come out of nowhere, sauntering past Omar to stand beside you.

He may have worn jeans for his own wedding but Billy had put in effort tonight, wearing a perfectly tailored maroon collared dress shirt and trousers. His hair was slicked back, his facial hair perfectly groomed. Everything about him screamed gorgeous.

“Omar, why you still holding my wife’s hand?” Billy demanded.

Immediately Omer eased his grip on you, pressing his palms together in an exaggerated show of apology. “Sorry brother, didn’t know she was yours. Just saw a beautiful woman, and I had to introduce myself.”

“I’m not his,” you emphasized. “I’m just married to him.”

Billy turned toward you. “So you do remember you’re married?”

“Kinda,” you smirked, centering your attention back on Omer. “Billy won’t introduce us, so I guess I’ll have to. I’m Y/N.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.” Omer winked, casting Billy a mischievous look.

Immediately you stiffened, taking in his expression. Maybe to everyone else the smile on Billy’s face was teasing but you sensed his agitation right away. Something was wrong. You could practically see him crawling out of his skin. And he was no longer looking at you, instead his focus was directed at another woman across the restaurant. You felt an unexpected wave of jealousy hit you. He appeared to be completely enthralled by the attractive brunette, he couldn’t stop staring. And the spark of envy you felt turned into something much more fierce. “Who is she? An ex-girlfriend?”

Omer raised his eyebrow. “Dinah’s here already? Thought she was coming tomorrow.” His gaze followed both yours and Billy’s. “Oh, Maria.”

“Yeah, Maria.” Billy’s voice was brittle, a stony expression on his face.

You didn’t know what the hell was going on but you absolutely hated the seething rage that flooded over you. It was crazy and made no sense. You ran into many of the women he slept with over the past few months, but they didn’t arouse such strong emotions in you. Probably because he never looked at them the way he was looking at this one. “Gonna introduce me or what?”

Finally Billy shifted his gaze from her to you. Eyebrow furrowed, he stared at you blankly. “Fine. Let’s go.”

It’s like you no longer existed, you were simply baggage he had to carry around. He walked ahead of you, only stopping when he finally reached the brunette. Next to her was another man who bore a striking resemblance to Omar. Based on that similarity, you deduced it was Curtis.

Curtis and Maria both looked up at Billy, flashing him a smile. You observed the trio quietly, noting the absence of intensity on Maria’s face. Whatever Billy felt for that woman, she didn’t reciprocate.

“Billy,” Maria greeted him with a smile.

“How are you, Maria? You look great.”

You noted how deliberately he masked his reaction with the woman. Carefree, jovial, he was all smiles while he hugged her – yet you saw through the ruse. It was all an act; he was more tense than before.

“And this must be the woman who finally nailed down Billy Russo.” Curtis wrapped his arms around you in a big bear hug, surprising you. Unlike his cousin Omer, there was nothing flirtatious in his smile as he greeted you warmly. “Never thought the day would come.”

You returned his smile. “Me neither.”

“Should we be offended we weren’t invited?” Curtis asked.

“Curtis, stop teasing her.” Maria sent her a friendly glance, seemingly oblivious to the way Billy was still watching her. “Congratulations, Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You offered a small smile, casting Billy a quick glance. Did no one else notice how on edge he was? His anxiety was through the roof yet Curtis and Maria appeared oblivious to it. It was ridiculous that the false smile on Billy’s face had actually fooled them.

“How did you and Billy meet?” Curtis asked, poking Billy in the chest. “He won’t give us any details.”

“Same old story. His grandfather came to the hospital, I operated on him, and while Billy helped him recuperate the two of us fell in love.” It was the story they had both agreed on and seemed to do the trick.

Maria shot Billy a quizzical glance. “I thought you didn’t get along with him.”

“I don’t.”

“But now they’re best buddies,” you piped up.

“Really?” Curtis asked, taken aback.

“She’s just pulling your leg,” Billy replied dryly. “She does that a lot.”

Curtis laughed. “I can see why he likes you.”

For the first time since you walked in the veil of tension lifted from Billy’s face. An amused smile marked his lips. “May need you to remind me, brother. Sometimes she gets a little too mouthy.”

“Yeah, but you like that,” you retorted.

Curtis chuckled while Maria simply smiled. There was a sadness to her you hadn’t noticed before, and you wondered what she was thinking of. A quick peek at Billy’s uneasy face revealed he noticed it too.

“Maria, can we talk for a minute?” Billy asked. He glanced at you. “In private?”

Th jealousy from earlier returned with a swift vengeance but you kept your face devoid of any emotion as you turned your attention back to Curtis. “Why don’t we get a drink while these two talk?”

“Sounds like a great idea.”

You walked away with Curtis, trying not to let Billy’s close exchange with Maria bother you.

***

Later that night you were dressed in silk camisole and shorts, braiding your hair, when there was a knock on the hotel room door. You glanced at the clock. It was past midnight. You walked to the door and opened it a crack to see who was on the other side. Billy stood there, hair ruffled, eyes red, the first couple of buttons on his maroon shirt undone.

“Let me in?” he asked.

There was hesitancy in his voice, like he recognized this was an imposition. You contemplated telling him to get lost but couldn’t ignore the wild desperation in his eyes. You swung the door wider, allowing him to swagger past you, watching silently as he strode over to the mini-fridge and pulled out a few small bottles of liquor. “You’re paying for that, Billy.”

“Paying for the whole trip, sweetheart.”

You shrugged your shoulders, and sauntered over to the bed. Sitting down with your back against the headboard, you stretched out your legs and studied him as he finished a bottle. “What’s wrong? You’ve been acting weird the entire night.”

He turned around to meet your gaze, watching you for the longest time. Finally he approached you, taking a seat on the mattress, next to your feet. “No one else noticed.”

“They don’t know your bitchy moods like I do.”

“Guess I can’t hide shit from you.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “You’ve hidden plenty of things, Billy.”

He glanced down at your feet, making you feel self-conscious all of a sudden. “Your chubby toes are weird.”

“So are your demonic eyes,” you snapped.

This time a genuine smile curved his lips. “Weird but cute.”

His fingers pulled at your toes gently, and you started giggling at how ticklish his touch was. “Stop, Billy!” You smacked his hand lightly.

The smile on his face faded away, his eyes glued to your feet. He seemed to be caught in deep thought again, his mind somewhere else.

“The way you were looking at her, I thought Maria was an ex-girlfriend,” you said quietly.

Billy looked up to meet your eyes. “No, definitely not an ex.” Before he spoke again, he scooted forward, drawing closer to you. “She’s… was my best friend’s wife.”

“Curtis told me. Said you, him and Frank did multiple tours together.”

“He tell you Frank’s dead?”

You nodded your head. “What happened?”

“Frank and I got caught in enemy territory.”

Heavy silence followed, the air thick with tension.

“Held hostage for days.”

You didn’t know what to say, feeling queasy at the unimaginable horror he must have suffered. The cars and burn marks on his body flashed through your mind; you flinched instinctively.

“What?” he asked, meeting your eyes.

“Did they kill him?”

“Something like that.”

The darkness in his eyes made your heart ache. Whatever he lived through had been pure hell, but it was apparent from his lack of explanation he didn’t want to talk about it with you.  Unsure of what to do, you started braiding the wavy strands that had come undone back into a braid again when Billy’s hand clamped over yours.

“Don’t,” he commanded, his fingers curling around your hair. “I like it down.”

He stared at your hair as if he was spellbound, his eyes vacillating between your face and strands, leaving you completely unsettled. The air rushed out of your lungs when he moved closer, his breath humming against your skin as he began to pull apart the braid and run his fingers through your hair.

“Don’t flirt with Omar tomorrow.”

The abrupt change in topic caught you by surprise. “I was being nice, not flirting.”

“That’s not what it looked like,” Billy murmured.  

Despite the softness in his voice, you could hear the warning behind his words and it pissed you off. “So what? Who cares?” you fired back.

His eyes locked with yours, the intensity in them so potent you felt trapped. “I care.”

“Why?” You regarded him closely. “Jealous?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, babe. I just don’t want my friends to think my wife is a cheater.”

His refusal to admit the truth irritated you, especially considering how he reacted around Omer. “That’s all it is?”

“Yeah.” Billy’s hand wrapped around the back of your neck, his eyes affixed on your lips. He tugged you towards him, his pull gentle. The invisible connection between you and him was palpable, making your heart race in your chest, electricity jolting through you. Everything was moving at lightning speed yet time had slowed down. It didn’t make any sense. Nothing did.

“So if I told you he walked me to my room tonight and gave me his number, it wouldn’t bother you?” you prodded.

The glint in his eyes hardened, his jaw clenched. “Of course it would. I don’t want him to start asking why we’re not staying in the same room.”

“So nothing to do with you being jealous?”

“Nothing at all,” he drawled.

The magnetic hold he had over you dissipated instantly. You grew up under the stigma of rejection, your own father choosing to abandon you than claim you. And here was Billy, doing the same. There was no way in hell you were going to settle for someone treating you like that. Using every bit of resolve you possessed, you pulled away. “I want you to leave.”

“And risk having Omar find out the truth about us? I don’t think so.”

“Fine. Stay here but keep your distance.”

“You’re the one who crawled into my bed.”

“And you’re the one who almost kissed me just now.”

A cocky smile covered his face. “Wishful thinking on your part, sweetheart?” Like the arrogant jackass that he was, he moved away from the bed and strolled over to the bar. Pouring himself another drink, he leaned back against the furniture to face you. “Any other fantasies you have in mind?”

“This is so fucking pathetic. You don’t even have the guts to own up to what you want. Instead you hide behind mixed signals so you don’t have to risk anything. You’re a fucking coward, Billy.”

His eyes turned cold as ice.

[therealdisneyfan2319]

The Spider and The Witch Chapter 1: The Experiment and The Flu

Summary: Peter Parker and Y/N L/N are junior biochem majors at Empire State College.  Peter needs a volunteer for his research project, and a series of events leads Y/N to come down with the flu...or does he?

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Language, blood, needles, description of medical procedures

Word Count: 3.6K

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

“I don’t know how I managed to let you talk me into going to the lab with you this early.”  You stretched your arms out as you yawned, keeping your arm just so to keep your coffee upright.

“Dude.  It’s 10 am,” Peter chuckled.

“These good looks don’t just happen, man.  I need a full nine hours.”

“Maybe if you went to bed before 3 am-” “Now wait a minute.  You’re lecturing me about going to bed early when you used to pull all-nighters slinging webs around Queens?”

“Shut up!” He swatted your arm before you had the chance to pull away.  “At least I was doing something productive with my life, not playing Pokemon-” “Completing the Pokedex is extremely productive.  Now it might not be the same kind of productive as extracting the Spidey mutation from your genome sequence, but categorizing all the Pokemon from the Galar region is an important, time-consuming task.”

Peter rolled his eyes as he rolled down the sidewalk next to you.  You chuckled, taking a sip of your coffee as you shook your head.  This sort of banter was typical of your friendship.  Peter was one of your closest friends and easy to joke with, but you also worked well together.  It didn’t hurt that you were both biochem majors and had the same sort of scientific mind.  Since you met in world civ last fall the two of you had been as thick as thieves.  It didn’t matter that he was three years older than you, a grade above you, or that he used to be Spider-Man.  Finding out that the guy in the Stark tech wheelchair who loved Led Zeppelin and Star Wars was once the friendly neighborhood superhero was not what you expected when you went over to his dorm to hang out for the first time.  Peter was used to people freaking out when they found out and was thrilled when you shrugged it off.  

“So what exactly are we doing today?” you asked.  You had volunteered to help him out with a research project he was working on.  He hadn’t told you much about it, only that it was being funded by Tony Stark and dealt with genome sequencing. 

“Nothing too crazy.  I need to take samples of your blood.  I’ll use those as test subjects against my blood.  That’ll be the control sample.”  He punched in a sequence on the keypad on the arm of his chair.  Tank tracks dropped down from the bottom of the seat as the chair began to climb the stairs to the science building.  

“You know how to take blood?” you asked, holding the door open for him as he wheeled into the building.

“Yeah, well…yeah.  I mean Sam taught me how to start an IV and drawing blood is the same principle, right?  You gotta find the vein.”

“Oh my god I’m gonna die,” you mumbled as you turned down the hall toward the lab Peter worked out of.  It was one of the newest labs on campus.  Tony Stark had donated a sizable amount of money toward the Empire State College science and research division with the provision that all the money go toward funding better facilities for students.  The new building had just opened at the beginning of the semester.  Peter was more than excited to have a space stocked with the latest Stark technology to work on his newest endeavor.  It was more convenient than trying to head upstate to the Avengers Compound a few times a week.

“I won’t let you bleed out on me, man.  Worst comes to worst we’ll just throw some webs on it and send you to New York Pres.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better about all of this?  Because it’s totally not.”  You hated needles.  You hated doctors.  The thought of someone who was decidedly NOT a medical professional fishing around your elbow for a vein made your stomach flip flop.  Maybe a large coffee wasn’t the best idea for breakfast…

The bright fluorescent lights in the lab snapped on as you opened the door.  They seemed unnecessary as sunlight flooded the windows that took up the entirety of the easternmost wall.  The overhead haze added to the sterile feel of the room: the latest in Stark Technology, ranging from microscopes and test tubes to autoclaves and fabricators, shone brightly against the lights.  It was nerd heaven, stuffed to the brim with everything anyone could ever need for any experiment they could dream of.  You threw your backpack on a lab table adjacent to where Peter was setting up his laptop.  Once you were done helping him out, you figured you’d swing by the library to start cracking on the paper for your art history course.

“So I already took my own samples earlier this week,” he explained. “I’m storing them in the fridge over there.  Mind grabbing them for me?” He motioned with his head to the mini fridge that sat next to the sink.  You walked over to the fridge, seeing a rack of blood vials sitting on the bottom shelf amongst the Petri dishes of spores and sole can of Coke.  “Don’t drop it,” he cautioned as grabbed a ziploc baggie of medical supplies out of his bag.

“Whoop.”  You fake tripped, stumbling around and swinging the tray to and fro aimlessly.  He shot you a somewhat serious glare.  You returned a toothy grin.  

“Dude if you drop that-”

“Relax, Pete.  I’ve got steady hands.”  You placed the tray on the table in front of him with the grace of a swan.  “See?” You raised your hands up defensively.  “Steady hands.  I should be a goddamn surgeon.”

“Ah yes, Dr. Y/N L/N, the surgeon who hates blood.”  He dumped the contents onto the table.  Out fell some rubber gloves, a rubber tourniquet, needles, tubes, alcohol wipes, and cotton balls.  You gulped at the sight of the paraphernalia.  “So why don’t you just sit there and roll up your sleeve so we can do this.”

“Are you sure you can’t just, like, prick my finger?”  Plopping onto the stool you rolled up the sleeve of flannel.  

“Do you want to sit here and fill up these tubes one drop at a time?” Peter asked from the sink.  The tray of tubes, empty ones and ones full of his blood, sat next to him as he washed his hands.

“Good point,” you muttered.  It felt like you were chewing on the flannel from your shirt.

“Just relax, I did it on myself the other day and I turned out just fine.”  There was a slight waver in your friend’s voice as he spoke.  Try as he might to hide it, Peter was nervous, too.  He snapped on the baby blue gloves.  You turned your head away, refusing to look until he was done.  “Can you just make a fist for-good okay, yup, I see the vein.”  The sudden coolness of the alcohol against your skin made you shiver, but you refused to look.  Even as you felt the slight prick of the needle against your skin you kept your eyes firmly shut.  “Told you I wouldn’t let you bleed out,” he chuckled, replacing the now full vial with an empty one.

“How many vials do you need?”  You strained your neck as you tried to look as far away as you could from the scene unfolding in front of you.

“I don’t know, I did six of my own.  That should be enough,” Peter shrugged.  

Six vials of blood?  Why did you even decide to do this in the first place?  You could’ve been back in your dorm in the comfort of your bed, sleeping the morning away, instead of having your blood forcibly removed from your body.  Peter definitely owed you big time.  

He removed the tube from your arm, handing you a cotton ball to stop the bleeding.  “That should be it.  Mind putting those back in the fridge for me?”  

The second your feet hit the floor your knees wobbled.  It was probably psychosomatic, but the sight of all your blood sitting inches outside where it should be made you the slightest bit queasy.  “Yeah, no problem.”  You shook your head quickly.  There was no way you were going to let yourself puke or, even worse, drop the vials and have to do it all over again.  

It took all your effort not to look down at the plastic tray in your hands.  You concentrated all your effort on staring down the refrigerator.  That ultimately meant neglecting your untied shoelace.  Before you realized what was happening you found yourself tripping over your feet.  While you managed to not lose your balance completely, the sudden jolt sent two of the vials crashing to the floor.

“Shit,” you mumbled as you set the tray on the floor.  There were shards of glass and blood splattered across the marble tile.  You quickly glanced over your shoulder, hoping Peter hadn’t seen your mistake.  Much to your relief he was engrossed in his notebook.  That bought you some time to quickly clean up the mess.  You looked around for a roll of paper towels, spotting the roll next to the sink and tearing off a few sheets.  The crimson puddles looked like they’d be easy enough to clean up.  Not thinking too much about it, you knelt down and started blotting at the spill.  A sudden stab caused you to recoil from the ground in pain.  As you examined your hand, you noticed a small scratch on the pad of your thumb.  

“You good?” Peter’s voice broke you away from staring at your hand.

“Yeah.  Dropped one of the vials and cut myself.  I’m good.”

“Was it one of mine or yours?”

“Uhh, mine.”  Truth be told you had no idea if it was yours or his.  There was no way to know which vial was which.  Peter knew.  He probably had it marked down in his laptop or something.  But you remembered that his vials were facing you when you pulled them out of the fridge.  That meant yours were away from you and there was an empty spot there.  Yeah, it’s mine.  “You need me for anything else?”

“Nah, you’re good,” Peter focused intensely on his laptop, typing away as you finished cleaning up your mess and putting the samples away.  “Are we still on for dinner tonight?  Ned’s dying to try out that new Thai place on Watts Street.”

“Yeah, shoot me a text.  I’m headed to the library for a bit.”  You slung your backpack over your shoulder as you headed for the door.  “See you.”

“Thanks again, Y/N.”

******

You spent the rest of the day in the library researching and typing and revising your paper.  The minutes ticked by as you lost yourself in the endless barrage of Western paintings you thought looked all too similar.  Yet as the day passed you found yourself feeling strange.  At first you thought you had been studying too long.  The words on your laptop screen seemed fuzzy and you found yourself re-reading the same paragraph on Donatello about a dozen times before anything seemed to click.  Then the library seemed to drop ten degrees before abruptly shooting up another twenty.  Sweat on the back of your neck ran down your shirt and chilled you as fast as it cooled you off.  The lights were suddenly too bright and even the silence was too loud.  

Shit, you thought to yourself as your felt heat radiating off your forehead.  It was probably the flu.  It had been making the rounds through campus for the better part of a month, so you weren’t completely surprised.  Closing your laptop and shoving your books in your bag, you texted Peter as you left the library:

Got the flu.  You and Ned go without me.  I’m gonna go to bed.

The walk back to your apartment wasn’t long, but it was a near-impossible task in your ever-worsening condition.  Every step felt like you were trudging through molasses.  Your legs were as heavy as cement and you prayed you wouldn’t trip because you weren’t sure you’d be able to get up again.  Tears clouded your vision.  Rubbing your eyes didn’t help.  The only thing on your mind was downing half a bottle of Nyquil and passing out as soon as you got back to your room.  

Much to your relief you walked into an empty apartment.  Peter and Ned must’ve already left for dinner.  You kicked your shoes off and dropped your bag at the front door.  There was no doubt in your mind that this was the flu: you felt like absolute garbage as you shuffled to your bedroom.  As you flopped on the bed, clothes and all, your body felt like it was made of lead.  Bone-crushing fatigue consumed you as you shivered on top of your bedspread.  You prayed that you’d be able to get a little bit of sleep to help dull the pain.

When you woke the following morning, you were surprised to find that you didn’t feel sick at all.  In fact, you felt better than you had in a long time.  There wasn’t any evidence that you felt so poorly only a few hours ago.  You swung your legs around to the side of the bed and stared at the floor as you thought about what you were going to do all day, but when you tried to stand up something was off.  As you stretched your arms above your head, you felt something engulf you: it was your blanket.  It was stuck to your hands.  

Did I spill Nyquil on my hands? you wondered as you tugged at the fuzzy fabric.  No, I didn’t take any Nyquil last night.

It took a considerable amount of effort to tear just one of your hands away only for it to stick on the wall as you balanced against it for support.  Paint flaked away as you ripped your hand away.  At that point you weren’t sure if you were still asleep or not.  Squeezing your eyes shut, you reopened them to find flakes of drywall still attached to your fingers.  What the hell?  You shook your hands, trying to free yourself of the debris, but as you flicked your wrist downward, you heard a loud thwack.  The sticky white residue covered Marty McFly’s face on the Back to the Future poster that hung next to your bed.  That same white residue balled up on the inside of your wrist.  When you tried to pull it off, a long spindly web came with it.

Oh fuck.

The implications of what just happened were huge to say the least.  The vial you broke yesterday wasn’t yours: it was Peter’s.  His blood contaminated yours when you cut yourself and now you had…spidey powers?  It couldn’t be.  This all had to be some sort of nightmare.  You were just a normal guy trying to make it through college relatively unscathed.  Sure, your roommate was an Avenger and that was a little weird, but other than that your experience was pretty normal.  You had no interest in having superpowers or saving the world whatsoever.  

“Everything okay in there, man?” Peter asked as he rapped on your door.  It momentarily snapped you out of your panic.

“Uhh yeah, yeah.  I’m good,” you hollered through the door, still looking at the web in your hand.  

“You sure?”

“Yeah.  I’m okay.  Just, uhh, knocked my blankets off the bed.”  You wiped the web up with a tissue, praying that it wouldn’t stick to your hand, too.  It didn’t, much to your relief.  

“How are you feeling?” he called as you started taking off your clothes from the day before.  A long shower would help you figure out what your next move was.  

“Good.  Great actually.  I feel fine,” you responded, throwing your dirty t-shirt on the ground.  “How was dinner?” “It totally sucked, man.  You didn’t miss much,” Ned’s voice was faint as he yelled from the kitchen.  

“Bummer.  I told you that you should’ve done Indian instead.”

“Well hey if you’re feeling better why don’t we go for lunch?” Your stomach grumbled at the thought, but images of getting stuck to the subway pole loomed in your mind.  “Yeah, sure,” you responded absentmindedly while kicking your pants off and grabbing a clean pair of sweats off your bed.  

Wearing nothing but your boxers, you opened the door fully intending to go straight to the bathroom.  The second Peter and Ned saw you their jaws dropped.

“Dude!” Peter exclaimed. 

“Wha-?”  

“Woah!  Y/N, when did you get ripped?” Ned asked.  You were thoroughly confused.  None of your hobbies included going to the gym or working out.  What were they talking about?  The lights came on in the bathroom and as your eyes adjusted to the brightness you were shocked.  It was like someone took a  chisel to your body overnight.  There were muscles in places you didn't know there could be muscles.  The reflection in the mirror showed you defined pecs, swollen biceps, and the faintest outline of a six pack.

“What the hell?” you mumbled in disbelief.  Your fingers traced over your chest, taking in the new body you’d inadvertently fallen into.  It was a surreal experience seeing an unfamiliar body in the mirror.  It was almost like you were watching someone else live your life while you watched from outside yourself.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Y/N?” Peter asked as he wheeled himself in front of the bathroom door.

“Yeah.  I’ve just got spidey powers now.”  It didn’t even feel like you were the one saying those words.  Haze clouded your periphery, forcing you to focus on the newness of your body.  It was an out-of-body experience in every way.  There was no way to really process the profundity of the situation.  

“You WHAT?”

Time stopped.  Everything stopped.  Peter’s face contorted with dozens of emotions in the blink of an eye.  Glass shattered on the kitchen floor as Ned’s glass slipped out of his hand.  

“Umm, yeah I guess.  I’m starting to think that was your blood that I cleaned up yesterday.”  You half expected Peter to be furious at the truth, but the beaming grin on his face told you otherwise.

“It worked!  Holy shit it WORKED!”  He spun his chair around excitedly, whooping all the while.  “Mr. Stark, oh man, he’s gonna be so excited!  He’ll want to meet you.  Man, now he doesn’t even need to look for someone to be the next Spider-Man because…oh this is great, I can teach you everything!  That way you’ll be WAY ahead of where he thinks you should be and he’ll let you onto the team fas-”

“The next Spider-Man?”

“I mean yeah, Mr. Stark will definitely want to talk to you about it,” Peter replied.

“Dude, I’d kill to be Spider-Man!” Ned added, sweeping up what remained of his glass.

“No way, absolutely not,” you groused as you stormed out of the bathroom.  “No offense, Pete, but I don’t want to be an Avenger.”

“You don’t have to make a decision now.  I don’t even know if he’ll ask.  I mean he probably will but that doesn’t mean anything.  He might just want you to come in to do, like, more testing or something.”  Peter gingerly walked back his excitement.  The prospect of training the next Spider-Man brought a sense of optimism back into his life that had long been forgotten.  Losing his identity as the local neighborhood web slinger stripped away a core part of his identity: Peter Parker and Spider-Man were one in the same.  Sure, he still used his powers and webs when he could, but it wasn’t the same.  Tony had offered to make him an exosuit after the accident, but he knew that he couldn’t do it anymore.  One close brush with death was more than enough for him.

“Look,” you sighed, “I’m not you.  I don’t want to go out and swing through Manhattan and stop burglars or fight weird lizard things.  I just want to be a normal guy doing normal guy things with my normal guy friends if I can even call the two of you normal.”  Peter chuckled half-heartedly.

“Wait, can you stick to the ceiling?” Ned suddenly asked.  You sighed again, shaking your head as you extended your arm up and jumped: you stuck.  “Woah!  That’s sweet!”

“Yeah, it is kinda cool I guess,” you chuckled as you watched your fingertips completely suspend your dead weight from the ceiling.  Getting used to your new body was a curious sensation.  Everything felt sharper.  Colors were brighter and bolder.  You saw incredibly small movements even from the corners of your eye.  Your body felt stronger and faster and more agile.  It was strange, spending your entire life as a regular human being and then waking up one day twenty years later with these weird spidery feelings tingling inside you.  

“Do you want one of my web shooters?” Peter asked as you dropped down.

“Web shooters?”

“Yeah,” Peter replied questioningly as he raised an eyebrow.  “You don’t think I can actually make webs, do you?”

You responded by mimicking the hand gesture Peter frequently showed you, flicking your wrist downward as a raveled strand of webs flew out of your wrist.  Peter ducked his head out of the way in the knick of time while Ned’s jaw dropped in amazement.  

“Didn’t see that coming, did you?”

[okanra]

An update (or an announcement, not sure but whichever is fine) while i’m working on THE UNSPOKEN webcomic offline:

So i’m currently writing and working on the groundworks for the pilot comic volume that I hope can be released with limited numbers soon. It’s good news because it means that I’m dedicated to it, but the reality is it’s a lot of work for a one man team, plus my life schedule that gets busier every year, I won’t be able to be online much like 2 or 3 years ago, and will have to focus my drawings on my career more (I do draw for a living). So whenever I can draw here, it’ll be about this webcomic aka my favorite personal project and what I can and want to share with you guys.

The real announcement is, while working on the groundworks for the webcomic, I realize that since this comic with a Dragon Ball semi-adapted script draws from life more than from fantasy, it’s better to make it something more “real” that people can relate to. And that also means I’ll be visiting China next month, specifically the Zhangjiajie area, or better known as James Cameron’s Avatar moutains, for a short research trip and take real references since it’s also my main inspiration for THE UNSPOKEN’s Son Goten (or Sun Wu Tian - 孫悟天 in Chinese dialect)’s hometown.

If you like this series and want to support it, that’ll be great since this work runs mostly by the supports from its loving fans.

Maybe the next time I post here will be the old groundwork stuff I posted on twitter/X in 2021.

[lowcosmic]

—— jealousy, jealousy . pt . 2 ; kokichi ouma

— 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : you and kokichi make up from the fight.

— 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : small angst, fluff

— 𝐜𝐰 : look at pt. 1

— 𝐚/𝐧 : read pt. 1 for more context

kokichi, back at his dorm, silently cried. he fucked up.

he felt so many emotions at once - the most apparent being guilt.

he ruined a perfectly fine relationship. until he had to overreact and blew up at you.

all those memories now meant nothing, especially if you two were never going to be back together again.

all because of him.

you probably hated him. as much as kokichi just wanted to run back to your dorm and apologize and bring things back to normal, he couldn’t.

you said that you never wanted to see his face again.

and besides … he broke out for a reason. a valid reason.

… but was it really all that valid?

no, kokichi didn’t have a right to say what he said. in his eyes, he was a monster. you could never love him the same after what happened.

he cried more and clutched the fabric over his chest, curling up.

real tears. not those fake ones that he’d usually project.

kokichi decided that he wouldn’t blame you anymore if you ever got with shuichi after this. you deserved someone better, not someone who hid his emotions frequently any called his lover ugly.

this was it, wasn’t it? kokichi sighed. he wasn’t going to give up that easily yet. not until he conveyed a proper apology to you.

and that apology appeared around a week later in your locker. it was a sort of formal note.

Dear Y/n,

I know that you don’t want anything to do with me at the moment, but please at least finish this note. I don’t have an excuse for what I did, I have to admit it was wrong.

I didn’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I thought that everything would stop and that you’d forgive me by the next day after I said that, but clearly it was one of those times where I didn’t think anything through.

I never lied all those times I told you you were beautiful. That’ll never change no matter how many years go by. You’ll always be the only one, and I swear that’s not a lie. When saying those things, the thought of it being untrue never crossed my mind.

I love you, and even if you’re over me I still want to apologize for all the times I was insensitive or made you more insecure. You deserve someone better, and I hope whoever you find will treat you better than I did.

From, Kokichi.

you stared at the note for a couple more seconds before putting it in your pocket discreetly.

you figured that Kokichi wouldn’t want anyone to see this, since he’s always been so uptight about showing weakness to others.

everyone … except for you on most occasions.

you started your search for him.

after a couple of minutes, you went to his dorm room. knocking on the door, you heard the faint shuffle of someone … falling off of their couch? most likely kokichi.

he came out a few seconds afterwards, looking disheveled as ever. it’d made sense, after the fight he’d skipped school that week.

he had major eyebags, and he seemed sort of disconnected.

kokichi …

you pulled him in for a hug, closing the door behind you.

kokichi's reaction was immediate. he wrapped his arms around you like you were his last resource to help him live.

“ we all have those moments, kokichi. ” you murmured.

“ i went too far, ” he muttered back, “ you didn’t deserve that. ”

“ i said some stuff before that that you didn’t deserve either, you know that, right? ” you countered.

“ but mine crossed the line. ” kokichi buried his head below your collarbone.

you stroked his back. “ i still love you. ”

“ you’re crazy. ”

“ it’s a quality trait i appreciate. ”

he kissed your neck chastely. “ i love you too. ”

“ let’s make sure that never changes. ”

and then you both made out the end.

bonus:

“ wait who the heck put the note in my locker if you were isolating yourself for the whole week ”

“ you’ll never know ~ * cackles * ”

please don’t repost , translate , or claim my works as your own.

[passionartx]

Hi!! Firstly, I LOVE your Tangled AU, so glad to see Tails getting more focus in AU’s. I wondering: Do you have any general Tails related headcannons?

Hiya! 💛✨ Thank you so, so much! And ooo this is such a fun question. Tbh, I have too many, I could write an essay! This account isn’t as popular as my au blog since I’m pretty inactive on it so probably only like 3 people will see this… but I hope those hypothetical 3 people enjoy my inevitable waffle and chaos! <3

Will also use this opportunity to hype up some friends and people who’s work I admire!!!

A few of my favourite Tails Headcannons! :

- I love the idea that him and Sonic were 4 and 11 when they first met.

- Sonic will always be Tails’ big brother first and foremost… however, as Aosth Tails put it: “You’re my mom, you’re my dad and you’re my picket fence!”. Sonic having accidentally become the closest thing Tails has to a parental figure has a hold on my heart and I love how writers like @chaoxfix and my homie @myyla-x portray this in their fics!

- After having first met (and honestly even a few years in) if Sonic ever had to leave Tails alone for a while for whatever reason, maybe to protect him from a particular battle, Tails would deal with hardcore abandonment issues. Poor lil guy would fear Sonic wouldn’t come back, that he didn’t want him around anymore (which is made 10 times worse if you headcannon he was abandoned by his parents). Lil guy wouldn’t know what to do with himself <\3

- Tails reminds Shadow of Maria. Probably my favourite Tails headcannon! Though I guess it’s more of a Shadow headcannon… am I using this as an excuse to talk about it? More likely then you’d think. But ahh, those blue eyes, yellowish fur, sweet gentle childlike wonder, love of life and learning + Ian flynn has confirmed given her upbringing Maria was prob a bit of a science kid. Ah <3 Plus that brings the idea of Sonic and Tails’ dynamic reminding him of his with Maria’s and that makes me want to cry. I actually have a WIP fic about this headcannon but it’s been a wip for like a year… hopefully one day I’ll finish it cause I’m literally obsessed with the idea and want to see it through.

^ Also extra nostalgic about this headcannon cause my friendship with @sh-0-w-1-sh literally started cause they were looking for art ideas and I was like TAILS REMINDING SHADOW OF MARIA!!! And here we are almost a year later!

- For better or for worse he’s picked up a lot of his big bros traits. I’m talking puns, poses, that lil nose rub and foot tapping, occasional cockiness, being self sacrificial, the list goes on. Once he realises this or anyone else especially Sonic points it out, he’d probably be super embarrassed and deny it <3

Speaking of picking up habits…

- While he would definitely be scared by certain situations like this ( << the Starline issue 35 and 36 situation being a good example with other people being at risk and him not really understanding the situation or his role in it ) I think Tails would be pretty desensitised to being kidnapped or hostage situations at this point. He’d probably just find it an inconvenience more then anything or be entertained by the hypothetical villains incompetence. Me and @myyla-x had a conversation about this idea once and… it’s been like 6 months and we’re still talking about it. One day that’ll make sense. We got a lil carried away. Just a lil. Anyway someone get this kid therapy. <3

- An already pretty popular one but I felt the need to mention it cause I relate, but he gets so sucked into projects and his inventions that hours and hours can go by and he just zones out and forgot to eat… well, anything but mints at least.

- Tails is a theatre kid. :D Is this self projection? … maybe. If nobody else gets me @guiltypandas gets me <3 :,)

- I think Tails would be in denial if Sonic died. As smart and logical as that little guy is, given how Sonic has beat the unbeatable, has come back before and seems invisible… yeah. <\3 I think he’d always hold onto the hope that it would only be a matter of time until Sonic comes back… even if this time that wouldn’t be the case… my friend @whitecatindisguise actually wrote an amazing fic about this when we talked about the idea called He’s (Not) Coming Back (which if you haven’t already you should totally check out cause it’s amazing! And a heart breaking! The best kinda fic :,) )

- I think Tails has a heart of gold…but I also think depending on certain circumstances if he hadn’t have met Sonic he could have gone down a much darker path (which I guess ended up being somewhat proven with Nine in Sonic Prime!). Me and @casperangel have screamed about this too many times then I can count and it haunts me.

- Tails is a sweetie, a cutey patooty, like an adorable little house cat… but similarly (and yet again as proven thanks to Prime!) Tails definitely has a feral side. Especially if he hasn’t gotten enough sleep or gets his mints confiscated. @dunkinbublin and @studioboner ‘s accounts are absolute goldmines when it comes to Tails multitasking being an adorable lil guy and a feral lil menace!

- Tails and Tangle have sibling energy! I mean, Tails is basically everyone’s adopted little brother, Knuckles and Amy especially, but I think him and Tangles dynamic isn’t talked about enough and I’m super glad we’ve had some sweet moments with them in the comics! @pocketscribbs is feeding the Tails and Tangle nation fr <3

This was super fun! Thank you so much again for asking and I hope you have an amazing day! And if someone actually read all of this… you’re a trooper :,) <3