#or just to pretend it didn't happen that too [it helps]

[seeliemansi]

You Made Him Worried (Mr. Crawling x Reader)

Synopsis: The last thing you want is to make him worried

a/n: Wrote this while high on antihistamine, will probably rewrite after I got better *hic*

Part of this universe

------------

Mr. Crawling despises it when you get hurt. He tends to be extra clingy, extra needy, and very shaky when it happens.

You have to be careful as you dance around the topic of you getting hurt because he is not playing with your safety.

That's why when you slipped, and the cause was just you being careless as you decided that running towards your apartment to go home is a good decision during a sudden rain, it hit you so bad, you didn't even have time to say ouch out loud. Enough with protecting yourself from getting wet. You were more worried that he will panic and will start a power surge that can cause an electricity loss in your apartment building. You need the heater and can't sleep with how cold it is tonight.

Your white dress is wet and ruined. Your hair is a mess. You are bruised and in pain. And you walk upstairs with a limp. A good way to end the day you supposed.

You remind yourself to be cool. Not to make Mr. Crawling worried. You just want it to not be awkward when you meet him back home, waiting for you at his usual spot.

At least that's the plan.

The moment you stepped inside, all smiles, acting silly, downplaying what happened, you tried your best. You really do.

But when you opened your eyes, and looked at him.

His smile was turned into a frown. And with a shaky voice he asked.

“You, what happened?”

“You. Blood? Wound?”

“Hurt? Hurt?” He continued asking as he grabbed your arm. A wince came out of your mouth not from his hold, but from a cut you never saw due to the dimly lit streets and the mud that clung on your skin.

“No! Mr. Crawling, I am okay. See, not hurt and painful at all.” You grabbed his hand and wrapped it around yours, trying to divert his attention. You bite the inside of your cheeks, pretending that your whole body is not sore from the fall.

“Let's go, Mr. Crawling. I need to change or I will get a cold.” You insisted as you stepped inside and tried to chuckle, trying to dissipate the tension that is slowly building up in the air. When suddenly, he stopped, pulled his hands out of your hold, slowly stood up, and towered over you.

“No!” He screamed, voice deeper than usual. He walked closer, an inch away from you. His breathing is heavy. His hair seems to have a brain of its own as it stood, like Medusa’s snakes. The electricity flickers as he moves.

You gulped, planning to take a step back but you’ve been cornered by a wall. You can only helplessly look up at him. Watching the dark look clouding over his face.

—-----

“You done?” He asked, too chirpy to your liking.

“I will be done soon. Can you let go of my hand for a moment?” You draw circles on his hand that was holding yours as you bathe in the tub. The curtains were drawn, to give you a little privacy. A little uncomfortable but if you fully close it, he will surely sit in the tub and watch you bath instead.

This is the only compromise he agreed to so he will stop standing up and darkening your hallway.

Although you know he wasn't capable of hurting you, you got so scared when he suddenly stood up and towered over you. All you can think about is to make a compromise that he will like, or at least to lessen his worry. It breaks your heart to see him worried.

“Yes. Yes. Towel?” He offered. But when you tried to grab it from his hold, he pulled it so you would let it go.

“No! Me help you.” He insisted.

“But I can do it by myself.” You countered.

“I said no. I will help you.” A shiver ran down your spine when he suddenly was able to form a whole sentence in your language.

“Alright.” You sighed and stepped out of the tub. He is standing up, hands holding the towel wide open. He is grinning and looking thrilled. Who would have blamed him? It is the first time you two are inside the bathroom together. “Come! Come!” He giggles as he wraps it around you.

The way he switches from terrifying to sweet is always a surprise to you. He can be the sweetest but when push comes to shove, the most frightening ghost you have ever seen.

“Here, kiss. Kiss. Kiss.” He spoke as he raised your arm and kissed all the visible cuts and bruises you have on your skin.

You can't help but giggle from the gesture, feeling your heart swell with happiness. You may be sore but you're glad that you took him home.

[fujoshirat]

When the Shouto Todoroki saves you and your kindergarten students at the aquarium during a villain attack, you can't seem to get him out of your head. Bonus: you're quirkless and he's a pro hero, so you live in two different worlds. The glue? His cute nephew that's obsessed with rocks and that just so happens to be in your kindergarten class.

In short: You've become obsessed, you suppose. But that's all right, you're not the only one that's obsessed.

WARNING: Todoroki family troubles (in the eyes of Kaoru); Kaoru's rock collection hyperfixation! Please note that this chapter is written in lovely, little, mature, and smart Kaoru Todoroki's POV ♡ (so the improper grammar is intentional I promise 😓😖)

Note! "Oji-san" refers to Shouto, Kaoru's uncle. "Ojii-san" refers to Enji, Kaoru's grandfather. "Baa-chan" refers to Rei, Kaoru's grandmother. "Oba-san" refers to Fuyumi, Kaoru's auntie.

Part 1! Part 2!

3 - Things That Kaoru Loves

Kaoru loves his oji-san. Oji-san was the most coolest, most specialist person he knows. He could make fire dance in his palms-so cool! And then FWOOSH-he can make ice appear too! Kaoru liked to pretend that he could do that. When he gained his quirk on his fifth birthday six months ago, he knew that he wanted to be just like his oji-san. He wanted to learn from his oji-san how to use his ice quirk. Sure, Kaoru loved his dad and wanted to learn how to control his ice from him too, but oji-san? Oji-san was ultra cool! Oji-san was friends with cool people too. He told Kaoru stories about Deku and Dynamite, about his ojii-san before he retired, about the super cool All Might!

Kaoru loves his teacher. Y/N-sensei always smiled at him in the morning and helped him tie his shoelaces. Y/N-sensei's voice was soft. She wasn't noisy like his teacher last year (so stinky and mean). Y/N-sensei smelled like the peaches (his favorite) at the store that his dad always takes him to so they have dinner. She didn't have a quirk, but Y/N-sensei was one of his heroes, too. When she would give him a piece of candy and a bright smile for completing his work correctly, Kaoru's tummy would feel warm and happy. Most of all, Y/N-sensei thought his rock collection was so cool. "Y/N-sensei, my oji-san got me a new rock." "Oh really? That's so cool! You should bring it for show and tell tomorrow!"

Kaoru loves his rock collection. On his fourth birthday, his dad gave him a little wooden box with a few shiny rocks inside. When he lightly shook the box, they made a clinking, rattling sound.

"Kaoru-kun, do you know what these are?"

"Rocks."

"Yes, but, their special rocks. Do you notice anything about them?"

Upon further inspection, the little boy noticed that they had swirls of color and shone like tiny treasure in the light. Each rock was different: some were smooth, some were jagged, some had multiple hues while others had only one vivid color. Since then, Kaoru's made it his mission to find more rocks. Anywhere he went->the grocery store, baa-chan's backyard, the beach->he would pick up a special-looking rock and add it to the little wooden box of treasures. He didn't care of some of the rocks he found were "dull" (that's what Taro-kun said, but he doesn't know anything about rocks). All of Kaoru's rocks had a story, just like how his oji-san always had a story to tell him whenever Kaoru saw him at his house. His oji-san sometimes brought him rocks too. He'd gift them to Kaoru for Christmas or after missions. Kaoru's collection had grown so big that his oba-san bought him a new box for his fifth birthday. Now, he could fit his newer rocks in plus his super cool new fossil that his oji-san got him when he went to America last month.

Kaoru doesn't understand grown-up stuff. He doesn't understand why baa-chan and ojii-san never hug like the grandparents on Bluey, or why he doesn't have a mom like Mio-san. He asked his dad once, when it was bring-your-kid-to-work-day at the clinic, but his father just smiled at him. "Papa's got his hands full with you and his clinic. Besides, you've got me and all of your family. Isn't that enough?" Kaoru thinks that it's enough, he loves his dad more than anything in the world. More than more than Y/N-sensei, more than his oji-san, more than his rock collection. However, that didn't quench his curiosity. He still occasionally wondered why he didn't have a nice mom to bring to the school play or put little notes in his lunchbox like his friends did. Dad was too busy to do that. He made yummy food and tucked Kaoru into bed and went to all of his school events, but his doctor job at the clinic sometimes took him away from Kaoru.

The thing that Kaoru doesn't understand the most is why his oji-san and L/N-sensei weren't together. They liked each other, right? Oji-san looked a little silly whenever he saw Y/N-sensei. His ears would turn red and he would stutter. Y/N-sensei would smile extra cheerfully and play with her skirt. That's how you knew that someone likes someone, right? Himari-chan taught him that when she was practicing her reading at school.

"Kaoru-kun! The book says that if someone likes someone, they turn red and stu-stu- uhm...How do I say this?" "Stutter?" "Yeah! And smile super bright!"

Kaoru's curious about the world around him, but it doesn't matter. As he takes a bite out of his strawberry ice cream, he looks up at his uncle, who's also holding strawberry ice cream. Oh well, he supposes, that's why he's only five.

.

.

.

But then, Kaoru gets the most coolest, genius idea ever for a five-and-a-half-year-old.

"Oji-san," he swallows some ice cream, "you should give Y/N-sensei a rock." The tall man's eyebrows lift slightly. "...A rock?"

"Mhm." lick. "Like the Adelie penguins." lick. "Adelie penguin boys give a girl penguin a rock because he loves her," he recites word-for-word, exactly what he remembers his teacher telling him. Shouto's cheeks flush red as he finishes his ice cream.

"How can you tell that I like her?"

Kaoru kicks at the concrete under his feet, continuing to eat his ice cream. "Your ears turn red and you start stuttering. And then when Y/N-sensei sees you, she starts smiling a lot and playing with her skirt, like oba-san does when she sees her boyfriend." The five-year-old can't help but grin when he sees his oji-san's jaw drop.

"You're... very observative."

"That's what Y/N-sensei says."

Shouto smiles at that. When he begins speaking again, his voice is gentle. "Kaoru-kun, it's more complicated than giving someone a rock."

The little boy finishes his ice cream, a small frown appearing on his face. "But why?" The pro hero hesitates for a second. His voice comes out softly, almost like a whisper. "It's not easy to tell someone how you feel, even if you really like them." 'But if Y/N-sensei sees a pretty rock, she'll be happy,' Kaoru thinks to himself. Scanning the few pebbles nearby, he absentmindedly picks up a smooth, speckled stone.

"Oji-san, what if someone else gives her a rock before you do?"

Kaoru's words seem to hit something in his uncle, because suddenly his eyes widen and his left side twitches. Shouto's nephew watches him take a breath before smiling again, reaching down to ruffle Kaoru's hair. He whines in protest: "Oji-san!" Shouto chuckles and crouches down to the little boy's level.

"You're smart, Kaoru-kun. You're a good kid. Don't ever change, okay?" The man's eyes wander to Kaoru's right hand, where the spotted stone rested. He quirks a brow at the sight.

"You should give her this rock, oji-san. She'll love it."

Shouto laughs warmly, eyes crinkling slightly and hand patting his nephew's shoulder. "Alright, I'll do it." Kaoru's eyes widen and sparkle, and he eagerly hands Shouto the rock. He jumps up and down excitedly, the most excitement he's ever shown in his life.

"Yes!"

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

Shouto loves his nephew. He doesn't think that his rock collection obsession is weird, he thinks it's cute (it gives him nostalgia about Izuku's All Might hyperfixation). Shouto's frankly impressed by how smart and perceptive Kaoru is. He definitely did not expect Kaoru to pick up on his crush on L/N-san. 'Am I that obvious??' Kaoru's a smart boy too. According to to Natsuo and the beautiful L/N-san, Kaoru's top of his class even though he doesn't like talking much. Shouto doesn't understand kids, but he understands Kaoru. He understands how excited the little boy gets when he finds the perfect rock. Shouto thinks-no, knows-that you're the perfect gem. You're caring, sweet, attentive, bright, positive, everything he thinks he lacks.

And maybe Kaoru sees your real beauty, too, because here he is, telling Shouto to give the most perfect woman a rock.

To treasure the finest treasure that he's found: you.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

A/N: That's it for part 3! I hope you enjoyed it (˶◜ᵕ◝˶) Thank you so much for reading this part and the entire series so far!! I love love love the cutest little Kaoru Todoroki ToT It was a challenge writing the POV of a five-and-a-half-year-old, so I apologize for making him REALLY mature! I did envision him to be a mature and smart kid (like ShouShou <3), but I think I overdid it ><

Anyways! Thank you for your patience regarding this part and all of my works in general! I hope that the wait wasn't too long, and that this made up for it ♡\(´･ᴗ･`)

And finally: THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYONE FOR ALL OF THE LOVE AND SUPPORT! Parts 1 and 2 really blew up, Part 1 reaching over 300 likes! When I first made this account, I would have never expected to reach that many people. You all really make my days and I'm just so thankful for the positivity ദ്ദിദ്ദി(˃̣̣̥ᯅ˂̣̣̥) If you couldn't already tell, I am an amateur writer. I've been in this fandom and Tumblr for a LONGGG time, but have never found the motivation to write until now. Receiving this much love and positivity is really amazing and I hope to continue making good works and content <3

Just like before, I hope you look forward to the next part! I'll try to get it done as soon as possible depending on my schedule. If you'd like to be added to the taglist, feel free to let me know!

TAGLIST: ♡♡ @roseapov @brittanylikesstuff @stanseventeen @qardasngan @jastoo46 @kysoshir0

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

64 / 4.1k / soap soulmate au, final part

...

"You doing okay?"

Hearing Graves’ voice knocks what little breath you had out of your lungs. It's been months, but that's him. Your old boss. You never thought you'd hear his voice again.

"I've been better," you say finally. "Been awhile."

"Yeah, it has," he says. "Wish you'd've called me to catch up sometime, rather than under the circumstances. You don't sound too banged up. They treat you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"I didn't ask how you feel. I asked if they roughed you up."

You feel your own temper shorten in response. "I need you to call KorTac off."

There's a pause. You can imagine his frowning face, the way he's thinking that one over. "I'll take that under advisement," he finally says, but you can tell he's not going to do what you ask of him. "Puttin' me in a predicament here, kid. You're giving those boys a hard time, and here I thought I was helping you out. Paying your bail, so to speak."

"It’s more complicated than that."

"Always is. Let’s just have you dropped off back on base with us. You can clean yourself up and we’ll talk."

He waits for your crisp yes, sir, but it never comes.

He speaks again. "You got somewhere else to be?"

"I can't go back."

"Can't or won't? You got something you ain't tellin me, soldier?"

"I said I can't go back. And I'm not your soldier anymore. You're not my boss. I don't work for you."

"You know Shadows don't leave one of our own behind. Not to rot in some CIA prison cell. So lose the attitude," he says, voice like iron. "This ain't a good time to play games, kid. You're comin' back with me because I spent a pretty penny on you. You owe me. You have your personal business, fine. Come on back to base and let's talk this out face to face before you go makin' any hasty decisions."

You're so frustrated it's hard to form words. You should be grateful. You know that. Graves doesn’t pretend to care about his men. He cares enough to lead from the front. But you met your soulmate, and you can’t act like it didn't change you. You need to make things right. You also can’t exactly tell Graves you kind of sold him out.

"Hey. Focus up." He doesn't raise his voice to a command. Still, the order is in his voice, and you have been long trained to follow your commander's orders. Then he sighs. "What happened to you, kid?"

"You betrayed the 141. You killed innocent people in Las Almas, looking for them."

You can almost hear his jaw working behind his clenched teeth, the muscles in his face tight. He does not allow this kind of disrespect. "You think I like what I had to do? General Shepherd's orders were clear. We followed them. 141 did not." He huffs out a sigh. "I didn't enjoy it. But that's the job. You of all people know that."

You swallow. "You told us they were our brothers. You killed innocent people, Commander. Johnny said he saw you do it--"

"Johnny?" Grave's voice rises. "You on a first name basis with Soap now?"

"We all know what happened in Las Almas," you retort. Your skin goes hot at the way he says Johnny's name. "I won't work for Shepherd anymore after that. I won't fucking do it."

"Don't pull that with me." The warning is written in his voice. This isn't like you. To the Shadows, you’re calm. Cold. You don't lose your temper. You don't talk back. Especially not to Graves. "You think you can walk away at the drop of a hat just because you don't agree with an order? It doesn't work like that. You follow an order, even if you don't like it, even if it pisses you off. You don't get to decide what you think is right or wrong to carry out. When I give you an order, you follow it. That's your job. Your loyalty is with me. Not with the 141."

"I did my job."

"Then act like it," he snaps. "Stop acting like I'm some evil bastard out here. I made the only choice I could. Task Force 141 was not supposed to be there. They knew my orders, and what did they do? They came after my men, went behind my back, screwed us over. We did what we had to. You wanna be pissed at someone? Be pissed at them."

You glare down at the ice, but say nothing.

"You know I'm right." He knows you. He's getting to you. "And you know what else I find interesting? You don't seem a bit surprised to hear me alive." His voice is too casual and sharp as a knife. "Didn't you get the memo? Did no one forward you my obituary, soldier?"

You stiffen. You're not supposed to know he's alive.

"You're an awful liar. Always have been." He pauses for a long moment. "It ain't easy, surviving against the 141 if they want you dead. You know how I managed it, soldier?"

Yes. "No,” you retort. “And stop calling me that. I'm not your soldier. I don't work for you anymore."

"The hell you aren't. Maybe you're not on the payroll anymore, and maybe you're no longer under my command, but once a Shadow, always a Shadow. That makes you my responsibility. And my goddamn headache." Something shuffles on the other end of the line. "You know exactly what I'm willing to do to keep one of my Shadows safe. But if you're so keen on turning yourself in, fine. I'll have you in front of Shepherd's desk first thing tomorrow. Is that what you want? You know Soap and Ghost put Shadows in the ground that night in Las Almas."

"Shadows tried to put Johnny and Ghost in the ground first."

"This isn't about who shot first. This is about you." His voice is dangerously low, but he keeps his temper in check. Then he huffs a laugh. "You keep callin’ him Johnny. Makes my brain itch." Johnny MacTavish. John MacTavish. Yeah, that's it. "I'll be damned," he mutters.

You touch your exposed soulmark compulsively as if to hide it. Most soldiers hide theirs, but yours has always been tough to cover up. He's seen it more than a few times.

"Got you right out from under my fuckin' nose."

Your stomach tightens. You feel too exposed, like suddenly he’s putting the story together--how 141 got in.

"Shoulda known. Shoulda known. You know the military has a registry for this shit. There are rules. What's wrong with you?"

"I made a mistake," you mutter.

That might be the funniest thing he ever heard. And he's heard some good jokes. "You don't make mistakes, kiddo. You never have. That's not how I trained you." He's right, and you know it. "But hey. Guess it's true what they say about it."

"What?"

"Soulbonds. Make you take your best-laid plans and raze ‘em. Full scorched earth.”

“This isn’t about that. I’m making this decision on my own.”

“You think?” He takes a puff on his cigarette. “I don’t. I don't blame you, either. You sure as hell fought it as best you could. Didn't give in to save your own life. If that's not the soulbond making your decision for you, soldier, I don't know what is."

You look up at the sky. For all the time you spent working with Graves, that past version of you might as well be dead. Maybe that’s the grave you’ve been digging. "I can't work for Shepherd anymore. I won't do it."

"You're a good soldier, 86. You were loyal. I still think you're loyal, even if I'm not who you're loyal to," he finally says. His voice is still calm. It doesn't make you feel any better. "You know if you choose to walk away from this, the next time we meet might well be as enemies."

"Then I guess we won't meet again, sir."

He says nothing. Then he lets out a long huff. You really are going to do him dirty. You can hear his scowl. "That's a damn shame, kid. But you have more of a spine than I gave you credit for," he says. There's a tone of reluctant respect to it. That's as close as you're going to get to a compliment from him now. "You're a loose end, then. You'd best stay well out of the way. Mine and Shepherd's. I hope you're not making the wrong choice, 86," he says quietly. "I really hope you're not."

"It’s out of your hands now. And pay KorTac," you add. "Pay my squad. They did their job."

That makes him scoff. "Now why would I do that? You might be a traitor, but you're still my investment. You were worth more on my payroll than theirs, and that’s a fact I intend to maintain."

"You owe me," you remind him.

"Don't push your luck," he warns. "You're an asset. You don’t get the privileges of rank anymore. But, well..." He sighs. You imagine him with his heels kicked back on his desk, cigarette in hand. "I’ll tell you what. I’m in a charitable mood. I'll pay them off. I'm a man of my word when the time comes to pay off my debts. Hell, I’ll even throw in a tip for a job well done." Despite the annoyance in his voice, you don't doubt he'll do just that. "But that doesn’t mean I trust you anymore. I trusted you once, and you went rogue. I let you go now, that means I expect you to keep my secrets. Don't you go singing if Shepherd puts you in a chair. You got that?"

You glance up out of the corner of your eye at Soap, whose hands are still clenched in tight fists at his sides. "If Shepherd puts me in a chair, he's the one who's gonna sing. Not me."

Graves chuckles. "You're a good soldier, 86, but you can't take on an old war dog like Shepherd. Leave that to someone more qualified."

"Like who? You?"

"As I said, you best steer clear. I don't want to hear your name again." His voice hardens, and you hear your old commander again. "Good luck, kid. You'll need it. And give Soap hell."

You toss the phone back to Horangi. He listens to what Graves has to say. Then, eyes meeting yours for a moment, he wordlessly moves out away from the river, leaving you weary with relief. It's over. Finally.

Soap watches him disappear into the trees. Then, he looks back at you, alone and shivering on the ice. You look half-dead, bleeding, and your lips are near blue. He wants to make his way to you, but the ice is scarcely holding you. It won't hold him, too.

"Oi," Soap calls. His voice is rough with anxiety. "Get over here. You're gonnae freeze to death even if you don't fall through."

You blink up at him. Standing in the rising sun the way he is now, he looks like someone’s guardian angel. Yours? You'd like very much to be wrapped in his wings.

You make your way over to the bank, but the rocky ledge up is slippery and icy. Behind you, between the ice where you're standing and the bank, there's a yawning gap. To your left, there's a bridge, but snow has already melted off the surface of the ice, and it looks thin. "There's no way up," you call. "But downriver..."

"No’ a chance in hell I’m going to let you try to cross that," Soap says as he approaches the edge. "You'll be swept away and drown, hen. You're not in any condition to swim, and even if you were, that river's too bloody fast to risk it."

"Then what do you suggest?"

His eyes sweep over the river once more. It's wide; too wide to attempt a jump across. The ice has fallen in, leaving it almost impossible to make it to the bank. It isn't safe. The longer you stand there, the more the ice cracks under you. He admires your guts for putting yourself on the line like that to get back to him, but damn you. His blood pressure has never been higher.

Soap throws off his pack and slings his gear onto the bank. "I'll pull you up."

"But..."

"But nothing." With the adrenaline still pumping through his system, Soap thinks nothing of the risk of the bank collapsing under you both with his added weight. The only thing on his mind is getting you back in one piece. "We both know damn well, if I was the one on the ice now, you'd already be down there trying to help me, so for once, just shut up and let me help you."

Can't argue with that.

He pulls out an ice hook--mountaineering equipment; he was prepared to climb this mission, luckily--and offers it to you.

You toss the grenade as far as you can in the opposite direction. Then you raise your hands to grasp the rope. He's holding the sharp end and giving you the handle. You try to keep hold, but as he lifts, your bloodied hands slip just as the grenade explodes nearby, too close, spiderwebbing the ice with a final crack.

You land hard, break through, and disappear under the freezing water.

Soap has never known panic faster than when he sees you go under.

He dives after you. He has to get you back to the surface before whatever air you had in your lungs gives out. Your survival is his survival.

He finds you in the rushing black abyss when your fingers hook around his sleeve. Wrapping his hands around your arms, Soap anchors you to his chest.

You come to in his arms. You're colder than you ever have been in your life. Your fingertips tingle in pain and numbness. He's carrying you ashore somehow--far downriver, thinner ice--and he ducks into an old cabin with you in his arms.

Soap kicks the door shut behind him and moves into the cabin to set you on the floor, propping your back against the wall. His hands work fast as he pulls out his knife to cut away your soaked thermal clothes and gear. You dip in and out of consciousness until he wads up a fistful of gauze and packs it into your side wound. The sudden pain chokes you. Then a wave of nausea washes over you. You’d like nothing more than to tell him where precisely he can shove that gauze, but you’re too lightheaded.

"You with me, hen?" His gruff voice wavers. "I need you to stay awake."

He gathers you up in his arms and lifts you into his lap. It's a tight fit, wedged underneath the frosty window and between a table and an upturned stool. You register the warmth of his skin on yours and dimly realize he's stripped both of you almost bare, huddling around you to prevent hypothermia.

You soak up Soap’s body heat instantly. He's a furnace, and he needs to be, given the state you're in. He tucks you as close as he can. You're both shivering, but he doesn't care. He can be cold as long as you're warm. His broad body shields you from the drafts leaking into the decrepit cabin.

"No, no, eyes open." He tilts your face up as your eyes flutter. "Don't go passin' out on me."

You gaze up at him in your stupor. Maybe it's the blood loss, but even through your own pain and frustration, he's the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen.

"You have really odd eyes," you mutter. "Like blueberry soft serve."

Oh, you're definitely delirious. Maybe concussed.

But he can't deny the look you're giving him right now makes his stomach flip. The sight of you in his lap, your frost-scorched fingers wrapped idly around his ID tag and staring up at him like he's just pulled the moon out of the sky for you... it's the first time he’s seen you with your guard down.

He swallows and keeps you pressed against his skin. There’s a lot of blood. He can’t tell what’s yours and what isn’t. "You're in no shape to flatter me."

You hum, your fingers dabbing idly at a smear of blood on his chest.

He doesn't move to stop you. Instead, his eyes flick down to your hand. Your fingers leave a trail of sparks over everywhere you touch.

With a soft sigh, Soap catches your wrist. "Quit it, hen."

"Quit what?"

"Teasin'. Makin' me wish you'd put those hands to other uses," he says, voice quiet and rough. It's just you and him in the little cabin. The world is far away. His thumb rubs against the inside of your wrist, trying to bring some warmth back into your skin. "You're in no shape to be feelin' me up, either."

Your head lolls against his shoulder. "Maybe it's the perfect time. Maybe we won't get another time."

Hearing you say that twists his insides into knots. He leans down to rest his forehead against yours. "Maybe you just need to shut up and let me take care of you. Don't talk like that." His voice leaves no room for argument. He tightens his grip on you, pressing you closer as if he can somehow press that into your skin by sheer will alone. "There'll be plenty of times for you to get your hands on me."

"Mm." You tuck into him tighter. You'd be mortified with yourself if you weren't half-dead from blood loss. "Sorry."

He exhales into your hair, pressing chaste kisses there.

You're practically in his lap, the two of you tangled into each other from head to foot in the space under the window. He's surrounded by the smell of you. It's a soothing presence in all that surrounds him.

He shouldn't want to touch you, shouldn't want to take advantage of your weakness--but the thought of having you so open and wanting, of you willingly in his arms, makes something in him ache. Makes the selfish parts of him scream.

"You're a pain in my arse," he says. He focuses on taking inventory of your wounds, brushing over your arms with his touch to assess the damage. "You gonnae bleed out on me?"

You shiver a little as he drags you closer by your bare thigh. "Wouldn't be the worst way to go."

"Oi," he snaps in warning. He slides his hand up your side, checking for bleeding. It’s just as much a caress over your bare skin. He has to ignore how his skin tingles every time the curve of your body slides against his in that tantalizing way. Something in his lower belly tightens. "You don't get to tap out after makin' me go through all this trouble for you. You're livin' through tonight or else."

"Or else what?"

"Or else." He moves his hand up to the base of your throat, his large, calloused fingers wrapping around your neck and tilting your chin up to look at him. He fixes his blue eyes on yours to take in the dazed expression on your face. "I'll drag your arse out of hell and tan it until you can't sit right."

You're too weary to laugh, but you rest your scuffed cheek on his thumb, and it pushes your lips into a smirk. "All for me?"

"Aye. Hell of a lot more trouble than your pretty face should be worth."

You pull free and rest your head on his shoulder again. "Where do you live?"

"Glasgow," he says. "Not sure I should be tellin' you that."

You trace his chest around the chain of his ID tag. So many muscles. "Probably not."

"And what about you? Do I get to know?"

"No. Maybe. If we get out of here."

"Yeah? Well, you're not goin' anywhere with this wound. Bleedin' out, nearly froze to death, and still mouthin' off. No idea how to shut up and be good." He looks down at the injury, assessing how bad it really is in the dim light of the cabin. "You lost a lot of blood. I bet you feel tired." He brushes your hair off your face. "Stay awake a bit longer. The boys'll be here soon."

"I shouldn't," you mutter.

Soap doesn't miss the slurring of your words. He knew the blood loss would affect you, but he was hoping for more time before he had to really worry. "Shouldn't stay? Too late to get away from me now," he says, trying to keep his tone casual. Your skin is too cold for comfort. The gauze in your wound soaking through with blood can't mean anything good. "I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you. Sure as hell not letting you out of my sight. You've got a lot to repay me for."

You try to keep your eyes open. Every blink is more sluggish than the last. "Like what?"

"Runnin' away and makin' me chase after you, for one. Puttin' yourself in the line of fire for me, second. Takin' a swim in a frozen river. Scared me to death." He presses his lips to the crown of your head, a gentle, chaste touch at odds with the possessive, dominating instinct he can feel creeping into his thoughts. You're vulnerable right now, something he should never want, but part of him wonders if he’d ever have caught up with you without this. "Aye, you owe me. First thing we do once you're patched up? We have a long talk. We have a whole hell of a lot we need to say to one another. And you'll answer every question I ask you."

"I dunno if you'll like the stuff I say," you mutter.

"Hardly matters. You’re plenty keen on spittin’ fire at me as it is. No reason you can’t keep tellin’ me everything I don’t want tae hear."

Another shiver wracks your body.

Soap rubs your arms. "You gotta give your word you stay awake for me, aye? Stay here."

His radio beeps nearby. You huff. "Fine."

"Fine." He leans over to grab his radio and tries to keep an arm around your shoulders to keep you warm as he does. He keeps you cradled against his chest as he responds to Price.

"Soap here."

You don't hear the conversation. Instead, you listen to Soap's voice vibrate through his chest. He speaks to Price in hushed tones, talking about your condition and the team's ETA.

Price has a laundry list of questions, but Soap manages to wrangle them into holding off until they have everyone back on base. No sense exhausting you on a mission that's already been a shitshow. Finally, they're done. Soap lets the radio go to focus entirely on you again. "Still with me?"

"How long do we have?"

"Shouldn't be too much longer," he says. He checks your side again. The coldness of the air has soaked into the wet gauze. You shiver again. It makes something in him ache. "ETA's about ten minutes out."

You pull his lips down to yours and kiss him.

He's surprised, but he doesn't pull back--not from you. He lets you kiss him. Your taste seeps into his brain and turns all rational thought to white noise. One hand cups your jaw with a surprising gentleness, and the other slides behind your waist to keep you against his body. He's gentle--you need to be handled with care right now.

He pulls back before he loses himself in the desire to deepen the kiss. His eyes search your face, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath hot against your lips.

"You're lucky you're injured," he murmurs. "Or you'd be in a very different kind of trouble right now."

You shiver, but not with the cold. Just that one kiss has you feeling much warmer. You touch your name where it's written on his arm. Then you curl your fingers around the back of his neck and pull yourself closer. "Hold onto that thought for later," you murmur. "Give me something to wait for."

Then you kiss him again.

...

← previous part / [part 13] / epilogue →

part 1 / more Soap / masterlist

thank you <3

[illbegottenfaith]

handwritten - theo nott x reader

yours and theo’s story as told through notes passed in class

a/n - came up with this quick idea to release some pent up creative energy while mulling over lucky pt 3. will prob make this an ongoing series for small ideas I can’t get fully fledged fics out of. easy to write, easy to read, enjoy!

tropes/warnings - fluff, a minor hinting at angst, newstudent!theo, estranged friends to lovers

word count - 1.5k

Monday, 10.07 am, Charms

Hey. You might want to pull your nose out of that disgusting textbook for once.

We’ve been over this. Just because you don’t understand something it doesn’t mean it’s disgusting. It’s very disrespectful.

What is disrespectful is you not paying attention to our year’s hottest new commodity - emphasis on the hot. I must say, he fills out that uniform quite nicely.

I’m sure he does.

C’mon, you’re not even a little bit curious? Just a peek?

Y/N? Hellooooooo? 

Oh my god. I know the guy.

???

What is he doing here? Last I heard he was being homeschooled.

Know him how??

We went to the same primary school. We were…friends.

Riiiight.

Don’t get any ideas. I haven’t seen him since I was ten. And he looked very, very different back then. Had a ratty sort of face. I can still kind of see it, actually.

Oh, Y/N, how could you say such awful things about his beautiful face! Oh dear, that bone structure…

Quiet, you. He’s really…grown. He’s so much taller now.

You know what you should do? You should offer to help him catch up.

On five years of school?

Oh, please, he was homeschooled. He had to have learnt some things. Who is he, anyway?

Theodore Nott.

Now that’s an Old Money name if I ever heard one.

Ivy. Be nice.

So? Is he? Old money, that is.

I…suppose so.

Are you sure you two were friends?

Yes. It’s been a while, that’s all. I just…wow. I can’t believe he’s here. Like, right there. I didn’t know if I’d ever see him again.

What happened?

He moved. I was starting at Hogwarts. We lost touch, it happens.

But now he’s back! Yay! Did you see those sinfully blue eyes of his?

Ivy, you have a boyfriend.

I know. Ivan agrees, by the way.

That he’s hot?

Yes.

He’s sitting on the other side of the room. When did you have time to discuss this??

Just now. Right in front of you. What did you think all that eyebrow-waggling was about?

I thought you were having a stroke. Merlin, the two of you are perfect for each other.

Don’t change the subject. He’s not gay, is he? Your friend? All the hot ones usually are.

I wouldn’t know, now, would I? I haven’t heard anything about him in years. Ivy, leave him alone. Please don’t harass the poor guy, sexually or otherwise. And quit it with the notes. He’ll notice.

How??? Has he got eyes on the back of his very nicely shaped head? He’s busy with Flitwick anyway.

Trust me, he’ll see. Nothing gets past Theodore Nott.

Monday, 2.15 pm, Potions

Well?????

Well, what?

The chat!!! Your chat!!!!!! With Mr. Theodore Nott!!!!!!!!

You have to quit it with the caffeine. You’re far too excitable after lunch.

The chat!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It was fine. It was…nice.

Uh-huh.

He goes by Theo now.

Okay. I’ll pretend I care about that.

It was all very casual, very superficial. It was really just us exchanging pleasantries. Oh, right. He asked me to accompany him to Quidditch tryouts.

You??? But you hate Quidditch.

I know.

Please tell me you didn’t say that.

I didn't. I just said I didn’t know much about it.

And?

He said that didn’t matter. He just wanted me there for moral support.

Then what was with all the turning red halfway through? You looked like you were going to combust.

Was it that obvious?

Ivan had some pumpkin juice ready, just in case.

It was nothing. I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. He called me his good luck charm.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You’re going to rip a hole through the parchment.

AWWWWW

So?? Did you say yes??

I said I’d think about it.

BOOOOOOOO

Come on, Vee. He’s been flying since before he could walk. He always talked about joining the big leagues, you know. He knows everything there is to know about Quidditch, so of course he’ll make the team. And it’ll have nothing to do with me.

But he doesn’t even have any friends yet :(

That’s because he hasn’t talked to anyone yet.

Y’know, Romilda Vane wanted to know why he was talking to you of all people.

What’s that supposed to mean??

Eh, you know. You can be a little…snippy.

I am NOT snippy.

There it is. The snippiness.

Whatever. It’s all so pointless. Come Thursday evening, he’ll have joined the Quidditch team and he’ll be hanging out with, y’know, those people, and we’ll be ancient history. He’ll make plenty of friends. He just doesn’t know it yet.

Okay. If you say so. Also, at lunch, I finally tried that thing you’re always talking about, “applying myself,” and I found this article on his dad in the library. From 6 years ago.

Don’t you want to know what the article said?

You could have mentioned he was a death eater, you know.

I don’t care about that, by the way. You used to be friends and that’s good enough for me. But, Y/N, he was arrested six years ago. And you haven’t talked to Theo in six years. But there isn’t any kind of connection between those, is there?

Y/N?

Do not make me throw this at you. I know how you feel about paper cuts.

Tuesday, 3.03 pm, Defence Against the Dark Arts

Where’s your friend?

?

You know. Who you’re always passing notes with in class?

You noticed?

Hard not to. It makes you all fidgety and annoyed.

Yeah, well, Ivy’s an annoying person.

I’ll take your word for it. What do you have after this?

Transfiguration.

Wow. That’s one of the harder ones, isn’t it?

Er, depends on who you ask, I think.

Still brilliant as ever, then.

Shut up. I’m not half the swot I was in primary school. 

I never thought you were a swot. You were just…enthusiastic.

That’s sweet of you to say, Theo.

Huh. I thought I’d always be Teddy to you.

We’re not ten anymore, Theo. I can say your name perfectly now.

That’s good. So, have you thought about it?

Thought about what?

The Quidditch tryouts. You’re the only person I know here so you have to say yes.

I don’t know. Some of the girls look pretty interested in getting to know you.

What?

Nothing. I guess I could swing by for a short while.

That’s my girl.

Thursday, 8.37 pm, Common Room

SO?????

He got in. Obviously. Was there ever any doubt?

Did he run up to you? Did he hug you? Did he pick you up and spin you around???

Witch Weekly is a bad influence on you.

Details, please.

He hugged me. Kind of. Nearly tackled me, he was so excited.

you are SO his good luck charm!!!!!!

Friday, 11.17 am, Defence Against the Dark Arts

Witch Weekly?

It’s not mine. I’m holding it for a friend.

Right.

Really, I am. Ivy’s a fiend for these but she has this Charms test coming up that she absolutely cannot fail.

I believe you. ‘Top 6 Magical Contraceptives for the Modern Witch’ doesn’t sound like your kind of reading material.

I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I was only having a little fun.

I’m not embarrassed. Are you embarrassed?

Erm, no, but you’re very red. Do you need to see the Healer?

I’m fine. It’s just hot. And no one calls Madam Pomfrey ‘the Healer,’ by the way.

Ah. I see.

Is there a point to all this? Did you need to ask something?

Oh, right. What are you up to on Saturday night?

Saturday? Dunno…wanted to take a crack at that Transfiguration essay.

Excellent. I’ll pick you up at 8.

Oh?

It’s nothing. A couple of the guys on the team wanted to celebrate with drinks at Hogsmeade. Everyone’s bringing someone, and I thought it would be nice if you came. Being my good luck charm, and all.

Oh, Theo, you probably don’t know this since you’re new and all, but going down to Hogsmeade is only permissible on certain weekends. And only start a couple of weeks into the term, so not yet.

Did you just -? Oh my god, you did. You laughed at me. You laughed at my note. Out loud. You’re lucky you’re in Slytherin, you know. Snape usually goes absolutely ballistic if anyone interrupts his lesson.

I’m sorry, I forgot what a stickler you were. I just - I didn’t think I’d miss it.

Please, Theo, forget the drinks. I cannot in good conscience stand by and let you break so many rules. You’ve been here less than a week!

Guess you’ll have to keep an eye on me. Make sure I stay out of trouble.

Exactly.

Great. See you Saturday at 8.

[everlastingdream]

Part 1 - Part 7 - Part 8

Kara bathed in the artificial light, feeling her powers restoring. But it didn't help with her tangled thoughts at all.

J'onn and Alex was planning a mission, Winn was checking the equipment. And Lena...

After declaring that Lilian Luthor was the culprit, Lena's image blurred even with Winn's device still working. She silently took a step outside of the room to disappear completely.

Lena looked really shaken. But then she appeared ten minutes later, face resolute, only to start helping Winn. They seem able to communicate through gestures alone and judging by his exclamations Lena made some good suggestions.

Honestly speaking, Kara was shaken herself. It's not that she was that afraid to face Lilian Luthor, but the thought about the fact that the woman who called herself Lena's mother (even just for the sake of public appearances) tried to kill her... Anger started to boil inside Kara. For her cousin, for innocent people Luthor family hurt, and for Lena.

"Kara? Is everything alright?"

Alex stepped inside the room in dark googles which made her look silly, and Kara smiled despite the situation.

"Yes, thanks, Alex. I think I need another couple of minutes and we can start".

"It's good. But I'm still not sure if we need to do it now. It will be better if have another day or two to get ready".

"Maybe, but I agree with J'onn. We don't know if Lilian knows that we have Lena's files, so it's better to do it fast, even if we won't take her in custody".

"Yes-yes, I know. We'll do it like you both decided. But I was talking about you. Are you okay?" Her sister looked worried even in her funny googles.

"As much as I can", Kara said truthfully, closing her eyes. "I'm nervous about going into Cadmus base, knowing it can have kryptonite. And..."

Alex just waited for her to continue.

"I kinda don't want to go there. I will need to come to terms that Lena... I want to help, really. And I know it was just couple of days, but... I see her, Alex. I hear her. I talk with her. I... I don't want to see her dead body".

They just sat here in silence. Alex, a steady presence by her side. They both pretended that tears didn't slide down her cheeks.

/ / / / / / / / /

"Kara", Lena was floating near, once again visible to only one person.

"Yes, Lena?" Kara wanted to call her name again. To call her enough times so that her name is permanently etched inside her mind.

"Thank you for your help. If not for you... I would've been stuck inside that apartment for eternity. Meeting you was the best moment of my afterlife". Lena chuckled but it sounded wet. Kara couldn't bring herself to look at her.

"I'm glad to meet you too. Even if we didn't know each other for long, I enjoyed our time together".

They fell silent.

"What's your favorite color?" Lena suddenly blurted.

"Red", Kara smiled despite her surprise. "It was one of the colors of my House, and the color of Rao. What's yours?"

"I don't really remember. But I think it either green or blue".

"Not really a fair game of twenty questions."

"I'm a businesswoman, Kara. I'm not really fair".

Kara hoped that she would remember this smile for the long time.

/ / / / / / / / /

They played all the way to the base. Laughing and bickering like they knew each other for many years. And Alex and J'onn who was usually pretty strict about communication on missions didn't say a word.

But they quited down when the entrance to the underground base showed up.

The way inside was easier than expected so everyone was tense. Lena helped by looking through walls which allowed them not to waste time on unnecessary rooms. But they all were wary of letting her go too far because no one was sure what will happen if Lena found her body.

Kara was crossing the hall to one of the wings when doors locked on the both sides. She always thought it was funny. People could search up how she bents metals and crushes concrete but they still thought simple steel locks can stop her.

"Well-well-well, who do we have here? Hello Supergirl. What brought you to one of my facilites?" Speakers in the corners became active with the woman's voice.

"Where is Lena?" Kara asked with all the patience she could master, even if her hands clenched at her sides.

"And who are you to my daughter?"

"I'm a friend", Kara looked right into camera.

Lilian scoffed and judging by the quiet murmur from speakers gave a string of commands.

"Kara, Lilian's not here", Winn intervened in the ear, "I'll try to track her, but it'll be better if you just go find Lena".

Kara turned around, destroying the lock with lasers without any delay. There wasn't a point in listening to the psycopath.

"You can take her", suddenly sounded behind Kara's back. Lilian's voice was cold and sneering. "She was even more useless than I expected. Perhaps she'll have some purpose being your punching bag. After all, you even called 'Luthor' your friend. Surely there has to be at least some purpose like that".

Kara saw Lena freezing in front of her, almost half way to the next door. She was silent and apathetic as soon as they heard Lilian, blank face facing the wall. But now she started flickering rapidly, which looked a lot like trembling.

"Don't you dare talk about Lena like that!" Kara whirled around, powered by rage and an image of Lena's back, so small and vulnerable.

If Lilian was there perhaps Kara wouldn't be able to restrain herself. But now she just blasted a camera and speakers with a good part of the wall. Like from underneath the water she heard Alex's swearing and Winn's aggresive typing. Even if he won't be able to actually destroy Lilian Luthor, but she will have some big troubles after his intervention.

It actually helped Kara to calm down and speed up to Lena. It was another instance when she regreted deeply about being unable to hug her.

"She was always like that", Lena smiled weakly and went ahead without a word.

Kara, worried sick, went after her.

/ / / / / / / / /

They passed through underground complex, defeating mercenaries, who obviously lacked any real skills. Alex reported that back up teams did the same to the reinforcements outside.

Even if it was good, but it's kind of felt like an insult to have Lena guarded so poorly.

"Supergirl, next is the room around which all defences were made. So we think it's our target", Alex paused. "Good luck".

Kara nodded even if her sister couldn't actually see her. She crumpled door, so that no melted metal would hurt Lena's body.

They stood here, not really looking inside. And seeing Lena hesitate to step in the room made Kara feel like she needed to play hero just one more time for her. So she made the first step after a big sigh even if it was the last thing she wanted to do.

Room was small and crumpled. There was a table, a chair and a bed. Nothing to indicate that there was someone's daughter, sister, friend's body lying inside.

There really wasn't a chance that Kara's eyes wouldn't be drawn to Lena the moment they finally were in the same space.

Lena was- Lena's body was lying on the bed. It looked pale, deadly white, which made her raven hair look even darker in comparison. It was dressed in some kind of prison's rob.

Kara sobbed.

"It's a limited collection jacket, Kara!" She pouted, turning her head away.

"Sorry-sorry", Kara laughed gently, lifting her hands up. "I have no idea about wealthy people trends despite working for Cat Grant. The world of fashion changes too fast. But it suits you!"

"Thanks", Lena smiled shy, blushing just a tiniest bit.

She knew. She knew all along that Lena was dead. That when they find her body, Lena won't open her gorgeous green eyes to look and smile at her. That she won't be warm to the touch.

But still, standing there, face to face with reality, Kara couldn't help her tears.

"It's a shame I can't hug you", Lena whispered when she thought Kara fell asleep after talking about small nothings the day they decided to ask Alex for help. "I bet it would've felt nice. And safe".

She lowered on her knees beside the bed, gently taking Lena's hand in hers, flinching from the feeling of cold skin.

Ghost Lena gasped behind her. But all Kara could think about was grieving for a friend who's smile made her heart race. Who was lost forever because of stupid power play in which she didn't even want to participate.

"I really wish we met sooner", Lena said somber. "I would've loved to take you out for a dinner or, you know, hang out. I'm rich enough for you to eat freely with your kryptonian metabolism." She sighed softly.

Kara winked, feeling bolder after meeting Sam.

"I would've loved to hang out even if you didn't spent a cent. I'm not that kind of girl, you know".

Kara lowered her head to the palm of the cold hand, praying that Rao's light helps guide Lena. And then she heard it.

Badum-badum

Kara's own heart painfully squeezed inside her chest to the point of leaving her gasping for air.

She chocked on the tears, which now freely ran down her face.

Kara looked up, ignoring worried voices in her ear.

When her eyes met Lena's she knew that it was really true.

"Y-you are- you are alive..."

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 20. A Painful Touch (Garrick)

Summary: Dahlia now with a new signet must learn to navigate day to day life with it. Something she might come to learn the hard way after a certain interaction. A/N: As we do not know Garrick's signet yet, I am basing his signet off a heavily assumed theory. I didn't want to wait till January/February next year to post this, so if Onyx Storm contradicts the below, were just going to pretend it didn't so we don't wreck the next few parts.

Warnings: There are some mentions of a pass incident, as well as a confronting moment. It is nothing major, but I'd rather mention this before posting the below just incase. Potential for a signet spoiler depending on Onyx Storm content. Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist | Support Me

Challenges had finally started back up after a few months off. It was easy to tell everyone was excited for it, itching to get back to it. Sure we’d had training sessions here and there, but nothing beat the thrill of challenges.

I’d been tempted to take Dahlia up on the challenge she’d laid out for me, clearly thinking I wouldn’t follow through. One day I would. But today wasn’t that day. Mainly because she was nowhere to be seen. I hadn’t caught a glimpse of her all day. The last time I’d seen her had been last night as Bodhi had lead her out of this very room.

I hadn’t caught Bodhi to ask him what had happened, Xaden giving him the night off instead of coming on the supply run like he was meant to. I’d tried to ask Xaden about it but he said Bodhi wouldn’t tell him anything when he ran into him when he came back from the healers Quadrant. Without Dahlia. Meaning what ever had happened had earned her an overnight stay over there. I scan the crowd and see Bodhi standing with Xaden and the rest of his squad, riders easily moving out of my way as I make my way over to them.

“So you going to tell us what happened last night?” I ask as I take the empty spot next to him as Xaden gets called up for a challenge.

Bodhi sighs and shrugs his shoulders. “It’s fine, just a training accident. You know what can happen when signets start manifesting.”

“Yes I’m aware.” I say, heavily hinting all too well my experience with it. “But it can’t be fine. Because last time I checked she didn’t come back with you last night, and I haven’t seen her all day.”

“You worried about her?” He teases with a smirk.

“No.” I scoff. “Merely an observation.”

“Who are we worried about?” I stiffen as her voice meets my ears.

Seconds later a she appears next to Bodhi, looking as she normally does. No sign of injury, and acting completely normal.

“Oh we were just-“

“Durran! Are you deaf? You’re up.” Emetterio calls out cutting Bodhi off.

I breathe a sigh of relief as Bodhi rushes off to his challenge, unable to out me for asking about her. I half expect her to walk off now Bodhi wasn’t here, but she doesn’t move. Her attention now on the challenges taking place.

“So do I have the honour of you challenging me and getting to make a fool of you today?” Her question surprising me as I look down at her, a slight smirk on her lips.

I chuckle and shake my head. “Not today, figured I’d go easy on you and let you settle back into challenges before I make a fool out of you and prove you wrong.”

She looks up at me and scoffs, but I can see how she tries to hold back a smile, the corner of her lip twitching ever so slightly. Maybe Bodhi was right. Maybe she did just need time.

“Aetos!” Her head whips towards Emetterio. “Not you Dain. Bloody hell. Dahlia you’re up next.”

She nods at him before undoing her jacket, sliding it off her arms to reveal her training gear. Despite the temperature she’s wearing a sleeveless top today. The first time I’d seen her in one since before threshing. And now I see why. Her dragon relic takes up the entirety of her arm. The blue marking wrapping around her arm. And I can’t help but think of the rebellion marks some of us bear.

I’m startled from my thoughts as she shoves the jacket into my arms. “Make yourself useful and hold this for me.” A sassy tone to her voice as she pats my arm before walking away.

I can’t help but look down at my arm where she touched me. Stunned by the way it had felt when she’d touched me. Almost as if a spark had formed, and I couldn’t help but want to crave her touch again. No. I was not craving her. I might not think she was as bad as I once thought but I did not crave her.

I look up to see her start circling her opponent. I note how Emmetiro had paired up first years without signets together, probably hoping to lessen any injuries and casualties. Good luck with that. I’d seen plenty of singers manifest during training and challenges. The higher intensity and pressure generally bringing them to the surface. It’s how I’d found out about mine. Everytime I thought about it I felt like I could hear the scream just as clearly as if it was happening right in front of me.

I get so caught up in my thoughts I don’t even register Bodhi taking his place next to me. “Why are you holding her jacket?” Bodhi asks as he grins at me.

I roll my eyes. “It’s not like that. She shoved it at me and told me to make myself useful before walking off.” I tell him as I shove the jacket into his arms instead.

“Don’t want to keep it as a memento for your soon to be shrine of her?” He teases as he grasps it in his hand.

“What? Why would I-“

My words are cut off by a blood curdling scream. Everyone’s heads snapping towards the source. I almost think I’ve imagined it, as if I’m relieving the moment I found out my signet. But instead of me pinning another rider to the mat, it’s Dahlia. Dahlia who quickly scrambles off her opponent as she looks down at her hands in horror. Her face as pale as a ghost as her eyes flick up to the cadet still screaming and writhing on the floor in pain.

Emetterio and Xaden are the first to move, rushing over to Dahlia as another Wing Leader rushes to the cadet still screaming on the floor. Emetterio and Xaden try and talk to Dahlia, even shaking her to get a response out of her. But all she does is stare down at her hands, unresponsive to everything else going on around her. Exactly like me last year.

“Oh shit.” Bodhi mutters under his breath as he steps forward slightly before stopping. His eyes snapping to me and back to Dahlia before turning on me and grabbing my forearm tightly. “Did you touch her? When she gave you the jacket did you touch her?” He demands as he grips me tighter.

I rip my arm from his grip, anger flaring within me as if he’s accusing me of what’s happened. “I didn’t touch her. She touched me. Patted my arm before she walked off.”

Bodhi’s face drains of all colour at my words. I go to ask him what’s going on, but movement out of the corner of my eye draws my attention away. Watching as Dahlia rushes towards the exit, the other riders parting for her immediately before she bursts through the doors, clearly scared they would meet the same fate as her opponent. Xaden is quick to follow after her, rushing out into the cool winter air.

“What’s her touching my arm got to do with this?” I demand from him as I step forward, turning my attention back to him as my heart rate picks up.

“You’ll feel bad if I tell you.” His voice warning me, but fuck it. I needed to know. Clearly I was somehow related to this and I wanted to know how.

Bodhi sighs before hanging his head as he looks at the ground. “Last night Dahlia got her signet.”

Confusion washes over me. Did she have the same signet as me? No, if she did Emetterio would have kept her to the side till she could control it. The only safe option for her would be Bodhi as it wouldn’t work on him. But if she didn’t know just like I had, then it would be very possible none of them had any clue before she stood on that mat.

“So? What’s that got to do with me?” I demand, my voice raising slightly.

He looks up at me, as if he feels sorry for me. “She can use other people’s signets. When she touches them, their signet becomes hers till she touches someone else. That’s how she got hurt last night. She flung herself across the room with friends air signet. And that’s how….” He averts his gaze to the now passed out cadet being carried from the room.

I don’t need Bodhi to tell me the rest. My eyes going wide as I realise what’s happened, head snapping towards the door where she left. She’d touched me before she went on the mat. Her signet still so new she probably didn’t think anything of it as she placed her hand on my arm. She’d replicated my signet.

I’d done this.

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94 @the-fandom-ness @fan-of-many-bands @awkardnerd @heeseungthel0ml @acourtofsmutandstarlight @fairchild06 @freyagallileaevans @pit-and-the-pen @hannraumari @elliot-rain @thestarseternaal

[imobsessivesometimes]

Eazy-Duz-It // Logan Howlett x Reader

PT 1

a/n this is also on my ao3 account, but i felt like posting it here, too, for funsies. i'm bad at descriptions, just go with it.

synopsis: The school needs a therapist, fast. Maybe this random mutant can be the music teacher slash music therapy person. Oh yeah, there's also this mutant testing corporation?

-----------

"Clearly something isn't working," Ororo mumbled as she watched yet another student run by yelling obscenities behind them and ignoring the damage being caused by their mutation. It was nearing the end of the first week that a therapist had been employed at the school. Rebecca Zien was recommended to Charles by Jean Grey as a counselor that was also a fellow telepath.

"Perhaps the problem is that she's a mutant. She seems to be invading the students' minds, leaving them no room to express their emotions themselves." Charles determined beside her. He and Ororo had been watching closely the entire week, gathering information to see if Dr. Zien should be a permanent addition to the staff. It was evident that she should leave. "I'll discuss with her later this evening. Please go have a word with Miss Lily." Charles instructed Ororo which she gladly took to. It wasn't in her to leave a struggling student to their own devices when she could easily go help. This left Charles alone to think about what the next course of action was to be. Like Ororo had said, something wasn't working. They had an issue on their hands. They couldn't introduce something new and take it away and pretend like nothing happened. This week had caused all the students stress, and he needed to fix this mistake. The solution would have to wait a little longer, for now, he needed to fire Rebecca Zein.

Somewhere else in the world

"Leave me the fuck alone! God damn!" a woman demanded, struggling at the ropes that clung her uncomfortably to an equally as uncomfortable chair. "I have no idea what the hell y'all are even talking about!" she kicked at the air. The idiots who tied her down didn't think to restrain her legs. Said idiots, were leaning against the opposing wall to where the woman was tied. It was a small, dingy place. The acoustics made it sound like a shipping container. The woman didn't know for sure; she was knocked out before being put here.

"Do you ever shut up?" one man said. There was only two of them, the one who spoke seemed to be the younger of the duo. He seemed more inexperienced at kidnapping and interrogating people, too. He had repeatedly hit the woman after every question, not even giving her a chance to respond. But it wasn't like she had anything to respond with, anyway. She was plucked off the street after being detected as a mutant by the two. How they did that, she didn't know. Her mutation wasn't flashy or anything, it wasn't even visible when she was using it. She didn't need to outstretch her arms, her eyes didn't glow, nothing was admitted off of her. Her mutation was invisible unless she was using it on you. There was something wrong with the container, something that was preventing her from using her mutation on the two idiots.

"I'm not really known for being quiet, buddy." she remarked. They had been at a standstill for hours it felt. The older of the two muttered that it would be just a few more hours before she was out of their hair. Whatever that meant. They were both bald anyways. The younger opened his mouth in tandem with someone knocking on the container.

"About fucking time," the younger said as he leaned harder to crack open the container behind him. A force grabbed him, though, yanking him out of the container. A second didn't even pass before three silver claws dragged the older man with. The container was opened fully by a man with unibrow inspired sunglasses.

"Jean! There's someone in here!" he called out behind him. Another pair of footsteps ran beside him, a woman, Jean, appeared beside him and stepped into the container.

"I'm guessing y'all aren't the people they were waiting for?" the tied woman asked. Jean cracked a small smile as she made her way over to the other woman.

"That's right. What's your name? We weren't made aware that they had any hostages." she asked.

"I'm Y/n. I think I'm the only one here. I didn't hear anyone else being questioned in a one-mile radius. I don't know how big shipping container yards are, though." Y/n said. She helped slip the ropes around her torso off.

"You're a mutant?" Jean asked. Y/n stood, nodding. "Scott, see if there's any other hostages around." she called behind her. Unibrow shades, Scott, gave a thumbs up before running out of view. The sounds of the two kidnappers being beat up finally stopped and another man popped his head into view. He was gruffer than the other two saviors. He was a little and bloody from pummeling those two crooks. The sweat on his forehead was illuminated by the moonlight, as were his silver claws.

"Is she comin' with us or what?" even his voice was gruff. Sounds like he's gonna need a smoke after this, Y/n thought.

"A third location? What happened to never let someone take you to a second one, huh?" Y/n mumbled.

"Hm, funny," Jean said, "he's talking about a school for mutants. We're teachers there."

"I thought you guys were some kind of comic heroes?"

"That too," Scott wandered into the conversation. Jean gave him a questioning look, "no other hostages out there, just what we came here for." he informed.

"Good, lets head out then. Y/n, would you care to come with us? It'd be safer for you if you did."

"Only if you tell me who you guys are," Y/n crossed her arms. This 'school for mutants' sounded too good to be true; living as a mutant in this world taught Y/n that things were always too good to be true.

"I'm Jean, the man with the visor is Scott, and that's Logan. Are you coming with us or not?"

"Sure,"

-----------

Firing Dr. Zein wasn't exactly a walk in the park, unfortunately. She stormed out of the mansion saying something about her telepathy always helping her in her career as a therapist. Something like that. Charles Xavier was now sitting in his office with Ororo and other x-men/professors deciding what to do next.

"Maybe we could hire a non-mutant therapist? Maybe having someone on the outside looking in will give better counseling than someone on the inside. An outside perspective," Kitty Pryde suggested.

"We'd have to find someone willing to do that. I don't know if there will be many therapists out there willing to jeopardize their career by taking a controversial position as a mutant counselor." Henry rebutted.

Everyone who added to the discussion had valid points. It was starting to give Charles a headache. No solution seemed right; none fit with their circumstances. Most of the students said that the counseling felt too invasive. The whole situation gave everyone a headache.

"That's enough for today. We'll discuss this at further length when more faculty is present." Charles finally announced. The meeting had lasted well over an hour, they started talking in circle. "You all are dismissed." Faculty filtered out of the room at a moderate pace, Ororo was the only to stay behind as she has been Charles' righthand man during this whole ordeal. "You would imagine we'd be more equipped to handle this." he solemnly joked. Ororo didn't have the capacity to a pity smile.

The doors to his office suddenly burst open, revealing Scott, Jean, Logan, and someone he hadn't met before. "To what do we owe the honor?" Charles' eyebrows lifted slightly at the entrance and unfamiliar face.

"We found the weapons dumped at a shipping yard. We also found a hostage." Logan informed. At the mention of 'hostage' he pushed Y/n forward a little.

"Hostage?" Charles wheeled closer to Y/n. "A mutant hostage." he leaned back in his chair.

"Uh, yeah. Why is that important?" Y/n asked after the few seconds of examination.

"The weapons these three recovered are mutation repressors being manufactured by a colleague of one William Stryker." Charles stated. The air of mystery was quickly set aside, however.

"You say that like I'm supposed to know who that is," Y/n noted. The three behind her were getting annoyed, but Charles continued to enlighten Y/n with the important information she was missing.10 minutes had passed soon enough; Jean and Scott were lounging on a couch, Logan was one sentence from walking out of the room, and Y/n was sitting across Charles at his desk.

"Ok, so William Stryker sucks. I did, however, pick up pretty quick that they were gonna try out the mutation repressors on me, thank you for the thorough explanation, though." Y/n pointed out. She didn't mean that statement with any aggression, seemed like Jean and Scott didn't get that memo with the even more irritated expressions they displayed.

"What is your mutation, anyway?" Logan called out. He might as well get something out of all the waiting he was doing.

"It's kind of hard to explain. It relates to beats and rhythm," Y/n started, "like music," she added after seeing the confusion on his face.

"Music?" Logan grunted. Y/n just nodded, not feeling like an audible response was necessary if he was just going to be a bitch about it. "Why the hell would they want to test these out on a mutation like that?"

"Beats me, no pun intended. The container they put me in had something done to it where I couldn't use my mutation." Y/n shrugged. Charles and Jean perked up. Jean walked over from the couch slowly, the gears started turning in her head.

"They held you in a box that cancelled out your abilities?" Jean clarified; Y/n nodded once more. "That must mean this organization created a metal or compound of something that represses mutations, not just weapons."

"Organization?" Ororo asked.

"Yes, ReinTec, I believe." Charles added. "Jean, Scott, find whatever you can about ReinTec. Y/n, I'd like to talk to you about staying here at the school, I have an issue I believe you can help with."

[cherrylimecider]

>> college hockey player! ellie williams x reader

Ellie is the all star hockey player winning multiple championships for the University of Washington. She’s cocky a player and incredibly insufferable to you.

You’re the All-Star perfect student, easing every test and assignment in the architecture department at the University of Washington. You’re cocky, perfect and incredibly insufferable to Ellie.

When you encounter your ex-girlfriend at a party, you strike a deal with Ellie Williams to pretend to be your girlfriend for the hockey season. It gets too complicated to keep up with…

Read more on ao3 or wattpad @teawice 🤍

snippet from chapter 1:

The music is still blasting and yet it feels so quiet in here. If anyone knows the extent of what happened between me and Abby, it's Dina. Dina who was there for me when the falling out happened. Dina who came to check up on me everyday and made sure I brushed my teeth, Dina who would send texts to make sure I ate. So, as we stood there in our glaring battle, she quickly grabs my hand and in her motherly tone says, "Whatever is happening here." She gestures. "It's done, let's go, y/n."

"What's the rush, Dina?" I resist. "Everything is perfectly fine." I squeezed her hand in comfort and then let go. I glance back and forth from Dina to Abby. "You and I are still here to have fun and celebrate, and no blonde is going to ruin our night, besides I've moved on to better..."

"You what?" Dina asks, not picking up on any of my bluff and whatever drunken stupidity is going to slip from my mouth. She whispers, "Girl, what are you doing."

"So, who's the unfortunate gal?" Abby says as she is still there leaning against Owen, watching all this about to fall out.

If there's anything about me, I may be the most painfully prideful person in this room (aside from Abby, of course). If lying will get me to the top, then so be it. It doesn't help that I also chose a career that required me to have thick skin and learn to desensitize criticism given to me. Instead of succumbing to Abby like I have for the past year, I just really want to stick it to her for once. Show her that I will always be better, always win, that she was just a chapter that I could close and never think about again. So, everything that I was about to say may have been one of the dumbest decisions I have ever made, but the look on her face made it all worth it for a solid five seconds.

"Oh, you know, just the captain of the lady husky hockey team." I shrug as say with a casual attitude, trying to one-up Abby. 

"Oh my god." Dina mumbles as if finally catching on to whatever drunken nonsense I was doing. In the corner of my eyes, I could see her pinch the bridge of her nose. She must be so proud of me for sticking it to Abby.

"You're dating Ellie Williams?" Abby asks.

She is not proud of me. Dina had not informed me that Ellie was appointed as the new captain, and it was fair because Dina knew Ellie and I could not stand each other as Dina is, separately, both of our best friends. Doesn't help that Dina and I have been to busy to catch up as well.

The only reason I said the captain of the women's hockey team was because I knew Cat was the captain, or so I thought. Cat and I hung out once or twice and I knew she had a small crush on me after Ellie broke up with her. Cat was a pretty Asian girl, covered in pretty tattoos, dark hair that was exactly my type. So, bringing her up would have been easy to cover up, I could have said we are just hooking up and that its nothing serious. Only, I didn't know that Ellie freaking Williams was now the captain of the hockey team.

Ellie Williams, who is very much not into me and if she does date around, it's serious. If there's one thing, I learned from Dina is that Ellie isn't the type to mess around or be a sleeze. She's the type that's dedicated to her craft, her sport. Ellie who I know doesn't like me because I'm "too uptight." It's not like she's the most relaxed person ever either. Sure, she is cool and has a ton of friends, the press loves her look and her happy attitude, but I'm the one who knows that she herself is just as cocky as I am. Inconsistent of her if you ask me.

Last spring, I ran into her while in line to get coffee. I tried to hold a small conversation since it would be awkward if I just ignored her as if we weren't right next to each other in line. It was casual, nothing serious, just the usual "how's life, how's class, how's hockey?" basic questions as a friendly gesture. Ellie had the driest responses as if to get me to stop. That was my final effort to be friendly and right after, I sent a text to Dina about what had happened.

Ellie Williams in a million years would never give me the time of day, not a word, not even a look. And I had just proposed that Ellie Williams is my girl.

Like a deer in the headlights, I just scratch the back of my neck. But I can't just back out now, Abby is standing in front of me, in full understanding of my dislike for Ellie and her own dislike for her. With all the drinks I have had within the last thirty minutes, the only logical response to the situation is to keep going.

Dina is most certainly not proud.

"Of course," I say with confidence.

"Really?" Abby says trying to catch my bluff.

"Yeah, its been a month now."

"Wasn't she just with Cat?"

"That's old news, Abby. Jeez you're just late with everything huh?"

"We are leaving now y/n." Dina grabs my hand and tries to drag me away.

"You know I am on team now, right?" Abby says.

The pit in my stomach has grown into a full Olympic sized swimming pool. I feel my hands and feet go cold. My eyes shift to Dina's and we both think the same thing. She hasn't had the time to tell me anything in a while, so this was news that never got to me. I just dug my grave.

Before getting too lost in my thoughts, I feel a warm and strong hand around my waist accompanied with warm coffee sent. "Hey babe, I was looking for you."

I looked to my right and check to see who it is, only I knew who it was as soon as the voice spoke and the sent reached my nose.

Ellie fucking Williams.

Read more on ao3 or wattpad @teawice 🤍

[nico-esoterica]

Not sure if this is talked about, but in my personal experience with manifesting, sometimes you're manifesting a mindset shift. It helps align you with what you want and it becomes easier to 'act as if.' Imo, 'acting as if' feels performative for me with certain desires and isn't natural for me to do. With some things, I can do that and it's just a part of my everyday mindset and it doesn't feel fake. Like, I'm going into it knowing that I'm pretending but it doesn't feel like I'm forcing it. In my manifestation journey, I've learned that if I'm forcing a method or perspective, it's not for me and I do what works for me.

I'm a very leisurely person and I don't subscribe to needing to 'act' on anything. I had a gripe w/ the idea of inspired action because of our collective trauma from Capitalism and the 'grind-set' it requires. But with manifestation, I've found that a version/optional route of getting your result involves that..but it doesn't feel like it.

I made a post not too long ago about randomly stumbling upon an opportunity to receive free money for filing for settlement claims on twitter. A few days after that and unrelated to my own research on it, I just so happened to get a document in the mail inviting me into a massive settlement opportunity.. like a perfect synchronicity. It was a big sign for me that all of my money affirmations were snowballing and coming true in real time.

There's stories about just waking up to things. Those are all valid and they happen. You can even decide that's how they show up for you exclusively. But with some things, it shows up as you being inspired to act on something that reflects a recent mental shift you've made. You start seeing yourself and your life differently and you act in accordance to it. You become savvier, more well put together, educated or well informed, and you're thinking and moving as who you've been saying that you are. I'd argue that this is still shifting identities or transforming realities. But it seems more subtle to us when it'll be dramatic to a person who hasn't seen us in 6 months.

If you change your mind about yourself in any way, you've shifted. That means your actions are inspired because you're aligned with the new you. That's still acting as if. I just didn't like how it was communicated and found that it doesn't inherently come in the form as performing or faking it until results occur. Either way, by just changing your mind about who you are and what experiences you want to have, everything will line up for you to reflect that in the most mundane to simply unfathomable ways possible. Online, I feel like this can be accelerated because there's an infinite number of ways for what you're desiring to show up. Or you'll magically find the right rabbit hole or land on the right algorithmic feed to take you there. Every move is the correct one.

Change your mind about your experience, then everything will change. / art credit: girl on the couch by pang xunqin /

[thcophagy]

no matter how gently he tried to turn her down, lana was firmly stuck in her ways and had become dedicated to not leaving the car without getting what she wanted, no matter the cost. she was clearly confident that her advantages would be accepted, otherwise he couldn't imagine she would risk her job just to attempt fucking him. that wasn't the version of her that he thought he knew, he had been forced to quickly revaluate what parts of her were real and which had been manufactured. how long had she been wanting to do this? he'd made the informed assumption that her attempt back after the holiday party had been nothing more than a way to try and thank him for how he'd handled the situation involving his colleague but maybe that wasn't the case. had she been thinking about him like that ever since? waiting for the right moment to strike? making note of every glance he cast in her direction? she wasn't wrong in thinking that he was attracted to her or that he needed some attention after being put out to pasture by his wife, though neither were things that sully expected any sort of resolution to that lana could bring about. he was trying to be good, really trying but she was making it almost impossible. there were only so many times he could yank her hand away from him and watch it worm right back, her insistence on touching him was influenced by her intoxication, of course, but there was also a level of calculation there that felt premeditated, the alcohol and god knows what else was she'd taken that night was only helping bring about the confidence to attempt the seduction. he'd foolishly believed that if he put on the dad voice and held her with a tighter grip that he'd be able to get his point across, she'd snap out of whatever drunken haze had her acting like a nympho and they could go home and pretend like the whole thing hadn't happened. that was what he wanted, to not have to address his attraction to her any further than he'd already been made to, yet still she persisted. "stop calling me that." the respectful manner which she used to address him hadn't been something he had asked for, in fact it had been one of the first things he and his wife had noticed about lana when she first came for her interview, her politeness was not uncommon among others who they had seen but he had especially enjoyed the way her soft voice had cooed the first mr landry. it felt anything but respectful now, it was purpose reminder of his power over her, his role as her boss, an older, married man whose children she was paid to look after. maybe she did need a spanking, someone to set her over their knee and remind her who was in charge. it shouldn't have been hard to make her keep her hands to herself but he was careful not to be too rough with her as no matter how frustrated he was getting he didn't want to actually end up hurting her, however it was that hesitation to properly stand his ground that let her keep wiggling her away out. "lana, please." he pleaded as she tore herself away from his hold on her wrist and once again reached forward towards him, only this time deciding to forgo groping him over his pants and instead go straight for the real deal. the back and forth shouldn't have been as arousing as it was, especially when he truly believed that he did not want or need her help, yet as she wiggled her hand down past the waistband of his pajama pants, she was met with his cock almost fully hard, warm and heavy and throbbing in her hand. "fuck." instinctively, sully reached down to grab her wrist, though instead of pulling her hand out from his pants he simply held it, not encouraging or discouraging her, merely holding her in place. "listen, you're- you're just drunk. you don't have to do this, you're- fuck, you're so young..."

her lingering gazes would've clued most men in to her interest in them— hell, most would've interpreted some other innocuous gesture of friendliness as attraction— but it seemed she would need something more overt in order to hook mr. landry. it was testament to how good of a person he was that he didn't want to take advantage of dubious circumstances— lana had now thrown herself at him twice, and still he seemed intent on resisting her, not because he wasn't interested, but because he was trying to save her from herself, in a way. surely she couldn't possibly want to fuck him for her own self interests, and clearly she was just too damaged to understand how to properly communicate gratitude; her body was all she knew how to use, and it was up to him to show her that she was valued beyond that. some sort of classic male fantasy, one not inherently sexual in nature, but still erotic in a sort of reverse psychology sort of way. regardless of his noble intentions, lana didn't have the patience for the act, and it didn't take long for her to start to grow agitated. he kept teetering back and forth between the temptation to give in and his firm resolve to resist, and each time he went back to attempting to thwart her efforts, she had to clench her jaw to resist letting out a bratty whine. since when was seducing a man this difficult? an overworked, undersexed, unhappily married man, no less. it didn't make sense, but it did make her that much more determined to get him to crack. "you never know, mr. landry... better safe than sorry." god knows how homicidal she'd become if she ever had to go that long without getting fucked, so it wasn't all that far fetched. she'd roll with whatever excuse worked to get some sort of reaction out of him, and it clearly did. if she did happen to remember everything in the morning, speaking so callously about his family wold probably be the only thing that brought her guilt, but she was too far gone off her own fantasy to fully consider the gravity of it all. the only thing on her mind was the feeling of his cock outline beneath her hand, warmth radiating off it through the thin material of his pajama pants, and she suddenly found herself wondering if there were any hourly motels nearby. they were getting back to the more affluent, suburban area of town, but she was pretty sure she knew of a couple back in the direction of the club, unless they'd been shut down or sold since she'd last visited. as spacious as the backseat was for carting a couple of children around to school and soccer practice, it didn't seem nearly roomy enough for all she wanted to do with mr. landry. she let out a genuinely involuntary gasp as the car jerked to the right and she very nearly slid and bumped into the window before she corrected herself. his more forceful approach threw her off, eyes widening at his firm grip on her wrist, stunned into silence if only for a moment. she'd never seen him be so stern, not even with the twins, and it made her slightly dizzy with arousal to feel him exert his strength over her. the heaviness of her lids made her look almost sleepy, until he finished off with a hint of a threat, and she couldn't help but perk up immediately. "oh yeah?" she quirked a brow with a snort as she once again began trying to squirm out of his grasp. "misbehavior, is it? what are you gonna do, you gonna spank me, mr. landry?" for someone so small, lana was surprisingly strong, possessing a stubborn sort of resilience only fueled by alcohol and drugs, and with a considerable amount of struggling, she managed to work one hand free long enough to stick it down his pants, fumbling to circle her hand around his cock before he could stop her. "please? please let me..." far from the sultry minx she'd made herself out to be just moments ago, the neediness in her slightly bloodshot eyes and in her breathy tone was as genuine as ever, just feeling the weight of him in her hand before she went any further.

[inkskinned]

the thing is there's like, a point of oversaturation for everything, and it's why so many things get dropped after a few minutes. and we act like millennials or gen z kids "have short attention spans" but... that's not quite it. it's more like - we did like it. you just ruined it.

capitalism sees product A having moderate success, and then everything has to come out with their "own version" of product A (which is often exactly the same). and they dump extreme amounts of money and environmental waste into each horrible simulacrum they trot out each season.

now it's not just tiktokkers making videos; it's that instagram and even fucking tumblr both think you want live feeds and video-first programming. and it helps them, because videos are easier to sneak native ads into. the books coming out all have to have 78 buzzwords in them for SEO, or otherwise they don't get published. they are making a live-action remake of moana. i haven't googled it, but there's probably another marvel or starwars something coming out, no matter when you're reading this post.

and we are like "hi, this clone of project A completely misses the point of the original. it is soulless and colorless and miserable." and the company nods and says "yes totally. here is a different clone, but special." and we look at clone 2 and we say "nope, this one is still flat and bad, y'all" and they're like "no, totally, we hear you," and then they make another clone but this time it's, like, a joyless prequel. and by the time they've successfully rolled out "clone 89", the market is incredibly oversaturated, and the consumer is blamed because the company isn't turning a profit.

and like - take even something digital like the tumblr "live streaming" function i just mentioned. that has to take up server space and some amount of carbon footprint; just so this brokenass blue hellsite can roll out a feature that literally none of its userbase actually wants. the thing that's the kicker here: even something that doesn't have a physical production plant still impacts the environment.

and it all just feels like it's rolling out of control because like, you watch companies pour hundreds of thousands of dollars into a remake of a remake of something nobody wants anymore and you're like, not able to afford eggs anymore. and you tell the company that really what you want is a good story about survival and they say "okay so you mean a YA white protagonist has some kind of 'spicy' love triangle" and you're like - hey man i think you're misunderstanding the point of storytelling but they've already printed 76 versions of "city of blood and magic" and "queen of diamond rule" and spent literally millions of dollars on the movie "Candy Crush Killer: Coming to Eat You".

it's like being stuck in a room with a clown that keeps telling the same joke over and over but it's worse every time. and that would be fine but he keeps fucking charging you 6.99. and you keep being like "no, i know it made me laugh the first time, but that's because it was different and new" and the clown is just aggressively sitting there saying "well! plenty of people like my jokes! the reason you're bored of this is because maybe there's something wrong with you!"

[eri-pl]

The Hadestown syndrome

So I am re-reading the Silm. and I have a lot of:

I know [a terrible thing] will happen, but if I read it enuogh times, maybe it won't?

I know what you are going to do but how about you don't?

No, seriously, stop

If I read it enough times maybe it will somehow get better?

[fisheito]

my princess nonsense is being encouraged watch ouyt imabout to be eneaabled

OK WHATF ATHAT'S SO CUTE I HAD TO MAKE IT i know realistically there's little to no chance that rei DOESN'T know how to work heels 🤣 BUT IMAGINE.....ING.... YAKUMO GENTLY GUIDING REI IN HEELS, WEEKS BEFORE THE BIG GALA AND HAVING NONE OF HIS NORMAL FEAR OF PHYSICAL TOUCH BC HIS [TEACHER MODE] IS OVERRIDING HIS INSECURITY

[notsodailycake]

Man, it's so disheartening to keep seeing the twins from whatever media you enjoy be shipped. Especially being a twin myself, it's just so discouraging and makes me feel uncomfortable sharing anything related to me and my twin

It just got me sitting like

[booasaur]

Station 19 - 6x08

[nomidreams]

god i finally watched new episodes my honest reaction is jgiwoaoKzmxmkwkakkak