#sometimes open ended questions like this are hard to answer because there's just so many angles to come at it from

[ya-killin-me-smalls]

do you have advice for writing Deimos? love your characterization of him

asking the hard questions here. had to think about this for a couple days because in all honesty I don't think about how I write him very much

so, starting with speech patterns because that can really set your interpretation apart from others. when I first got into writing for madcom I was also into tf2 so I ripped off of scout's voice lines quite a bit. he goes off on tangents and gets distracted often by his own thoughts. he says "like" a lot without realizing it but it's his little way of pausing to think. he's a lot more crass these days than how I used to write him, every other sentence seems to have an f bomb. he doesn't talk in circles necessarily but when he's stressed his thoughts get tangled up on their way out which makes him have to backtrack, start over, and reword a lot

behavior-wise, and this is where I want to bite chunks out of the fandom sometimes, if you're gonna make him a pathetic loser he's gotta be an asshole about it. no matter how bad the circumstances, even if it's to his own detriment, that fire inside him rages on. he doesn't have a lot of self awareness in that regard, tends to assume people have beef with him because he's a clone or whatever reason, but in reality a lot of people don't like him simply because he's a dick

I write him to be very reactive to his environment and the people around him. if someone says something that can be misinterpreted, he will choose the worst possible interpretation and get defensive/aggressive about it. criticism, advice, jokes, even compliments at times are taken as a challenge

adding on to things that get taken as a challenge, Deimos operates on body language more than words sometimes. with this aspect I use dog body language for reference more than anything but there are some things that are universal. staring someone down, crowding their space, baring his teeth. he tends to be more closed off when he's uncomfortable, folded arms, slouching, etc, and more open when he isn't

I don't know if any of this makes sense

biggest takeaway I guess is he's a pathetic paranoid asshole that would sooner gargle nails than swallow his pride and ask for help or admit that he's hurting. like he's genuinely so self destructive even if he knows it's hurting someone else too. because he's selfish. and this is a great plot device because it means you get to force him to go through Character Development, which brings me to the more technical side of things

if you wanna write something that's emotionally moving to read, either take someone who's doing alright and fuck them up and break them into pieces, or take someone who's already fucked up and Make Them get their shit together even if it hurts. you can do both of these with Deimos because he's both fucked up on the inside and has a bulletproof facade on the outside and lemme tell you that's so fun to break down

can't think of anything else but if you were looking for more specific advice feel free to send another ask!

[aphroditesmoon]

wish you'd ask me

clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader

summary: you're not good at reading subtle hints, clarisse realises that maybe she should've been more upfront with her feelings for you.

warnings: fluff, oblivious!reader, clarisse is down bad, reader is very neurodivergent coded, kissing, flirting, title n fic inspired by 'Wish You'd Ask Me' by Matt Maltese.

A/N: thank you for 1.9k followers!! I love you all dearly, my ask box and dms r always open, im glad that my writing is being enjoyed by so many people<3

wc: 4.5k

You have been in camp half blood for more than 4 years. You have made yourself at home for the last several years. 

It was easy to view yourself as lesser or inadequate in comparison to other mortals during your days in the real world before you were sent to camp. The world has never failed to remind you of how different you were. Always too much or not good enough, always special and never normal

And it wasn't like you were dying for some sort of diagnosis to justify why you are the way you are, but upon discovering that you were actually a demigod, it felt like all the questions you've been harboring to yourself was finally answering themselves. 

Everything clicked. Everything made sense, though at the same time, it felt impossible. You were a very confused little girl when you first arrived at camp. A girl who just wanted someone to tell them that it'll all be alright in the end.

And you still remembered the first person to hold you by your shoulders and made you look into their eyes as they told you that it was all going to be okay.

The girl with beautiful long curls and dark piercing eyes. The girl that everyone else, apparently, was afraid of.

But you could never be afraid of Clarisse La Rue. 

Not with the way she smiles when every time she sees you, the way she never fails to make you feel included even in activities you're not capable of participating in. Not with the way your whole body electrifies every time your skin touches, when your hands brush against each other. 

It didn't matter what anyone think, because no one could change the perception you've built of her. Clarisse La Rue is good. Or at least she is to you.

When you first heard of the rumours surrounding her, you did think better than to force a friendship on her. You strayed away from her and stuck to your cabin siblings and your books, but you noticed daily how she'd still go out of her way to talk to you at least once a day.

It didn't need to be a long conversation, just a passing acknowledgement. An easygoing 'hey, how've you been doing.' Sometimes she'd even go as far as cracking a joke with you.

With how serious her face is whenever she make the jokes, you'd have to think twice as hard and thrice as faster than another person to try and guess if she was being genuine or not so you could fit in a necessary laugh when you needed to.

Even as her anger became more apparent because of the new kid's accidental climb to fame and embarrassing the Ares' cabin, she still found time to make a conversation with you.

It had been long since you tried to ignore or avoid her. You learned that her attention towards you is harmless, and that she seemed much more comfortable telling you certain things compared to others. If she has been viewing you as some sort of safe box, then you don't really mind it. You liked listening to her talk and keeping her heart's intent as your secret.

You too, talking to her. To some people, you are reserved,  

and to others, talkative. Either way, people find it easy to discard you at any moment they decide you are irritating.

But Clarisse listens. And she asks questions, she's patient- much patient that anyone could anticipate or guess. 

It may be hard for others to believe, but Clarisse is more complex than she seems. She had the capacity to be gentle, and she had the capacity to respect boundaries. The more time you spent with her, the more that side becomes easy for you to access.

Today, however,  marks a new record for your friendship with her. A few weeks ago, she had informed you of her newfound interest in the history of folklore monsters. What a coincidence that you were currently self-studying on that specific topic.

She insisted that you hook her in on whatever it is you're learning. She had even gotten you a doughnut to eat together outside the library as you told her of your insights of dragons and their theorized blindness and incapability to differentiate a variety of prey.

The conversation went well, she seemed immensely in awe of your knowledge and had no problem telling you how she felt. 

You even gave her some book recommendations, though you knew she wasn't much of a reader.

You felt a shift in your relationship that night and had spent the next three days studying more and more about the topic. And today, you had asked her to spend the evening with you. 

You shouldn't feel so nervous asking her to hang out. That is what friends do, after all.

She found you in the library, sitting on the floor in between two large bookshelves. She had been right on time and enthusiastically so. The two of you sat together, hidden by the shelves as some semblance of privacy. 

Clarisse looked confused when you had explained that you indeed wanted to spend the rest of the day in the library, but she accompanied you anyways.

You could never get sick of the smell of the books. Old and new, they all have some nostalgic past tied in between the pages, begging to be discovered. 

You had your back on the walls with tinted windows above your head as she's seated opposite of you in a criss-crossed position.

Today, the library isn't as packed as usual. There were still people walking in and out and checking out the books on the counter, but not too many that it became obnoxiously loud and annoying. 

After finishing another book of Monsters and how to spot them, you're feeling knowledgeable enough to explain the lore of the Giants to Clarisse, she had asked you about this the other day, giants have been long extinct to the point that some might even say they may have never even existed. And so you were interested in sharing with her all of the information you have learned about the majestic species of a beast.

You started with the general information. The basic understanding of what a Giant is the mythhs of Giants and the validity of those sources. Clarisse listened closely in the beginning, never interrupting you unless she had an actual question.

She seemed in awe of the stories you tell her of. You don't blame her, for you yourself have been most interested in the topic of Giants.

You were an hour an a half in when noticed her attention faltering. She leaned against the cases of books, her eyes twitched slightly when you began to explain the different types of giants, and the difference of how they operate.

Her hands are folded together on her lap, and you can feel her listening in on everything you're telling her as she adds in some commentary here and there, but you also felt that she wasn't entirely in on the conversation.

The dim lights of the library made the atmosphere feel warm and secluded, even with its vast space and many other campers hanging around in the other tables and shelves. You made sure to keep your voice low as you spoke in fear of the librarian kicking you out. 

You had a good reputation with the library workers, they liked how organized and polite you were. 

"A lot of people think their greatest strength is their size, which is valid, they are huge, but their real weapon is their mouth." You told Clarisse, ignoring the litter of books by your left that you had brought over for reference.

"They kiss you to death?" She asks suspiciously. You laughed shortly and shook your head. "No, I mean their breath."

She responds with an 'ohh.' 

"They're giants, so their mouth is large too, and you can easily tell what they had for breakfast even from their tall height. Their breaths are also known to be so rancid it could kill you, because they don't exactly eat what we eat." 

She raises a brow as she stretches her hands upwards. "Isn't that ogres?" 

"It's both." You confirmed.

You were about to continue your explanation but halted by instinct as you notice how her mouth keeps pursing together as if unsatisfied, and she has that look on her face that mimicked a confused expression. You're don't think there's anything to be confused of.

"Are you okay?" You asked her worriedly. Clarisse sits up straighter at the question and waved a hand off to assure you she's fine. "Of course, no yeah- I'm fine."

"You seem bored, you're not really interested in what I'm saying are you?” She opens her mouth to counter your words but hesitates to say anything. 

"I- well, I like giants-" She attempts, "-no you don't. " 

"No. I don't." She admits with a sigh. "But I thought you said you were interested in these kind of stuff?" You questioned her. "Well, yeah, like the general idea of it. I mean, I don't hate it, and I like hearing you talk about it." She answers with a shrug.

"Then why do you look disappointed? If you didn't want to come, you could've just told me. I wouldn't get mad." You told her honestly. It was conflicting for you to see her so confused on what to say, being so picky with the words she chooses.

You figured she's probably reluctant to hurt your feelings. That is a notion you're used to. You'd rather she tell you the truth to your face than to be catered around like a time ticking bomb that everyone's so afraid might explode at any time. 

"When you asked me out yesterday, you told me this would be an 'evening to remember." She tells you with such confidence like it was an explanation to her weird behaviour today.

"You don't think this is an evening to remember?" You sincerely inquire.

"No, I do! I just- well, when you said that I didn't think you'd mean we'd be doing this." Your frown deepens as you try to figure out what she means, eyeing her body language closely. “What do you mean? I told you I wanted to hang out.” 

A part of you is offended. She was the one who had said she liked hearing you speak, why would she be disappointed that this was your idea of spending time together?

"I don't know, I thought we'd just be doing...something else?"

It didn't matter what she had really meant with that. You felt completely embarrassed once she finished her sentence. Why was it that everyone else had no problem having long conversations with their friends, but when it came to you, it's all too awkward, unnecessary, and odd? 

You liked Clarisse, you considered her your friend. Sometimes you wonder if it could ever be more, but you never entertain those thoughts because you don't want to ruin what the two of you already have. 

But moments like these resemble a huge slap in the face by the universe.

You couldn't even be good friends with her, how ridiculous of you to think that there could ever be something more.

"Okay, um, maybe we should just go back to our cabin." You decided whilst standing up and picking up the stack of books you're currently borrowing from the library, ready to leave the place without waiting for her.

"Hey, wait." She called out as you walked past her. You spared her a glance, trying your best not to show how upset you are.  “We're friends." She says it so much like a question that you weren't sure if she's even sure of the fact herself until she continued speaking. "I like hanging out with you."

Another thing that you weren't sure if she really meant. "Sure." You replied thinking it's the most suitable response. 

Before she could say anything else, you turned around and started picking up your pace until you disappeared out of her sight.

—

You have been consistently ignoring Clarisse. Which proved to be harder than expected.

When you pass by her camp or the training ground, you make a mental note to always look down or to your front as to never accidentally cross eyes with her.

And everytime you hear her call out your name, you keep walking like you didn't even hear her, knowing that she wouldn't be bold enough to call for you again. After all, she still had a reputation to uphold.

If ignoring her wasn't hard enough, having to deal with how you felt for her is worse.

You've been avoiding confrontation with yourself for weeks even before you decided to go no contact with her.

And so far, you thought you've been handling it pretty well. Except for days where you don't see her where she's expected to be. You tell yourself that you don't care as you make your way to training in the day and reading in the evening, and yet you still go back on your own words when you asked a passerby Ares kid on where his cabin leader was.

"She's dunking some kid's head into a toilet bowl." Of course she was.

You thanked the dude and went back on your way to your cabin. It's close to dusk, the sky is turning orange and the sun is dipping itself below the earth. You take your time returning to your cabin as you enjoy the way the sun slowly removes itself from anyone's viewing.

You wondered to yourself if things like these are what makes you weird or off-putting to some people.

Was enjoying nature and having niche interests only cute when it's done by girls pretty enough to be cool or if it's only in romance movies or books.

You don't find yourself weird, in fact you think all of your hobbies are pretty common and usual, and yet the way Clarisse had spoken to you at the library last week had made you feel unnatural.

You had wanted to do normal people things with her, but maybe your perception of normal is different to her.

Either way, you are pretty hurt with how she reacted. You loved her still, of course. It's kind of hard to unlike the girl you've been obsessed with since you were 15.

Once you finally reach your cabin, you quickly put down all of your books and your tiny sling back by the side before making it to the shower to refresh yourself before dinner.

You thought it hilarious of how hard you're trying not to care about Clarisse, and yet as you're cleaning yourself up, changing your clothes and attempting to read at least 15 pages of your World's Most Dangerous Beasts book, you could only think of her.

What would it take for her to think that you're cool, what kind of things did she want to do instead of listening to you yap around for 2 hours on what is an equivalent of a boring dinosaur facts, not that you really think dinosaurs are boring.

During dinner, you kept to siblings and had to make yourself finish your plate as your anxiety wrecking thoughts have a way of deriving you of an appetite. You also had to convince yourself to not search for her at the other tables which took more strength than one would expect.

But you succeeded, and you were now sure that the only obstacle left for the day was to try and fall asleep without the thoughts of her keeping you up.

Clarisse is a force, a fierce daughter of Ares, and a cabin leader who had much better things to do then hole up at quiet small places with you.

And just because she was nice enough to mantain a good relationship with you for 4 years, does not mean that you're worth her time. Or at least that's what you tell yourself.

That night, you managed to fall asleep after an hour of recalling Harpy facts in repetition. Counting sheeps had never worked on you, so you had to find something much more active to tire out your brain.

You dreamed of Clarisse with her hair down, holding your hand and pulling you closer so she could slip a flower on your ear.

And just as she's looking down at you, moving closer to do what it seemed like to kiss you, you awoke with a jolt, swearing under your breath as if you'd just gotten jumpscared by a ghost.

Someone's palms moved to shut your lips as you're met with a girl, hovering over you in the dark. Clarisse's dark eyes were recognizable, but it sent a shot of adrenaline through your body still.

"Shh." She whispered to your face, hand still keeping your mouth shut. "I'm going to remove my hands now." She whispered again. You nod in understanding and waited for her to pry her hand away from your face.

"What are you doing here?!" You exclaimed as quiet as possible as she helped you sit up.

"I'm sneaking you out." She answers with a wink. "It's 2 in the morning." You waved your hand around at the darkness and sleeping children. "3 in the morning, and yeah, I know. That's why it's called sneaking around." She corrects you with a grin so devilish that if you hadn't known her for a long time, you'd assume she's about to turn you into a new toilet bowl or dumpster boxing victim.

You sighed loudly and glared at her despite your fast beating heart. Her hand remained on top of yours until the minute becomes more awkward and she removes it as if she just remembered that she's been holding your hand.

Without explanation,  she climbed out of your bed and tiptoes to the open cabin door. You're still sitting up and looking at her with conflicted feelings.

Only after she turns back to you, cocking her head towards the entrance, do you give into her request and softly leave the comfort of your bed and trail after her.

"Where are we going?" You asked after her as she kept walking. Instead of responding, she asks you another question back, "Can you swim?"

"We're going swimming?" You watch her shrug in return from behind her and became even more distressed.

"So, is this your idea of having fun and hanging out then?" She laughs drily and slowed down so you could catch up. You walked fast enough until you're beside her and waited for her to talk. "You sound surprised, I would've thought that after 4 years of friendship, you'd know by now that I love doing things that includes active movements."

You did know that, it's a bit hard to not notice how much working out, training and running fuels her even more.

"And why are we doing it in the middle of the night?" The walk towards the lake by the back of the forest was short, considering that your cabin is the closest to the location.

You almost tripped and fell over a stick, but Clarisse was quick to scoop you back up by the back of your shirt. "Thanks." You mumbled to her. "And you haven't answered my question."

Clarisse pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the ground without caring of your presence. You, having more moral obligations than her, twisted your face to your left when she began to pull her trousers off. "Too many people in broad daylight." She tells you.

That is a valid reason, this lake is mostly known as a hook up spot, and true to it's cause, many dating campers have been caught together here during dawn or late evenings.

You braved yourself to turn towards her again slowly and realised that she had already hopped into the water. She had a sports bra on and a boxer.

And though you yourself had a tank top and shorts on, you contemplate the idea of suicide as a better choice than having to strip in front of her.

"Are you gonna get in, or are you just gonna gawk at me from there?" You were grateful for the dark being able to hide your flushed face from her, but deep down, you knew that she probably saw it anyways because of the shining bright moonlight.

"I can't swim." You told her.

"That's fine, the water's not very deep." You ransacked your brain for reasons to decline her offer, but at the same time, a small part of you yearned to take this risk that you've been so afraid of for gods knows whatever reason.

Clarisse is there, in the water and under the moonlight. You are only a few steps away from her. And like she said, the water isn't deep, only waist length. She stares back at you with a raised brow like she's challenging you to join her.

"Turn around first." You tell her. She smirked slightly before slowly spinning to the opposite direction. "You know I've seen you naked before right?"

"What?" You choked out, aghast. "Who do you think changed your clothes for you when you first got to camp." Oh, that.

Your shoulder relaxes as you realize she's talking about the first time you met. "That's was a long time ago." You noted. She hummed im agreement. "Yeah, we've both grown since."

You told her she could turn around once you're inside the water. Forgetting about the heighy difference between you two, the water was high enough to reach your chest, trying your best not to trip underwater the way you always do on dry ground, your hand instinctively reached outnfor her shoulder.

Clarisse held your forearm tightly and drew your closer to her until you're inches away from eachother.

You breathed in sharply and felt the need to fill in the awkward silence. "So, you...like swimming, huh?"

"Yes, evidently so." She answered. "Right right, can't sit still and all that." She actually chuckled at your sarcasm, making you proud of yourself.

"You know, even before I came to camp Half Blood, I use to be a pretty active person, running track, volleyball, sometimes swimming." Your eyes widened in curiosity. "Really?" She nodded.

"The counselor told my mom that I just had so many untapped energy, which I guess is a code for anger issues." Her grip on your forearm moves higher until her palm is over your shoulder.  "She told her that it'd be best for me to find a...healthy way, to channel that energy, and for my strong competitiveness. So I joined what I could, and that's how I spent most of my free time there. Besides, I never was that good academically. So, I ought to at least be good at something, right?"

"You are good." You blurted out. Your embarrassment faded away when you saw her smile. "You think so?"

"Yeah." You assured her. Her other hand had snaked around your waist without you noticing. Only when you moved slightly do you notice her holding you softly.

"The moon is really nice tonight, isn't it?" You said, trying to diffuse the tension. You pointed your finger up to the sky at the singular white orb.

She glanced up and let out a 'huh.'

"I like it when it's bright and whole like this, the moon in all of its glory. You don't even notice the starts around it when it's glowing like that." You could stare at the moom forever, even longer than the way you've been staring at the sun.

You believed in it the way children do with their birthday candle. To you, the moon has always been a symbol of hope or comfort for your future. Your fascination for it existed from when you were a child, the way it'd follow you from behind as you gazed upon it from the back of the car seat whilst your parent drove down the road.

The way it moved above you as you walked home from school, like one of the gods themselves watching over you.

"Nothing compares to the moon." You announced aloud, watching as the clouds around it began to gather over it. "Yeah, It's beautiful." You hear Clarisse speak.

As your head snapped back to her, you found that she had already been facing you.

"I like the moon...but not as much as I like you." She whispered loud enough for your ears only. Her face leans closer to yours, your noses brushing together. "Not as much as I like to hear your voice, when you tell me about your little harpy facts-"

"Oh, I haven't told you about the harpies yet." You cut her off. "I just finished that chapter this morning actually and-"

"-and, you can tell me about it after I'm done talking." You blushed and became silent, letting her speak.

Clarisse exhaled breathily, fanning your face with the subtle warm air. "I like doing things that friends do with you, but I don't want to be your friend anymore."

"Oh."

"I want to be more than friends." She elaborated.

"Oh." Oh.

You feel a sudden tightness in your chest, from anxiety or from butterflies is undecided. "You want to be best friends?" You joked, laughing nervously.

Clarisse snorted at your joke, but she was still grinning widely. "Best friends, If that's what you want to call it."

There was a moment of understanding shared between a second of shared gazes before her lips attached themselves to yours. An urgency, approval, meaning that can't be described by words.

Whatever gentleness there was inside of her before had vanished. Clarisse kissed you like a starved woman. Her lips craved yours like it'd be the last time she'll ever know how you taste like.

Your hands clasped on her shoulder and neck for support as she embraced you tighter to her body. You let her tongue slip into your mouth, meeting your own.

And as they danced together, inhaling all there is in your lips, every secret and every confession that have died on the tip ofnyour tongues, you are sure that no heaven nor hell could tear you open to see you back together like this.

You push her back abruptly, letting fresh air fill your empty lungs. "What's wrong?" Clarisse inquired worriedly.

"Last week." You sighed out, chest still heaving as your thoughts clicked together. "You thought I had asked you on a date, that's why you were disappointed."

She winced at the reminder, and for the first time in your life, you had been lucky enough to witness a flustered Clarisse.

"I'm right." Her silence confirmed. "Oh Clarisse, why didn't you just ask me?"

Huffing loudly, she rolls her eyes in irritation. "I thought I was obvious enough. "

Thinking back on it all, it did seem pretty obvious, but gods were you oblivious. The way you intepreted it all so wrongly.

"I've liked you for so long too." You admitted to her. Her scowl was gone at that, replaced by a teasing smile. "And what are you gonna do about it?" Her mouth returned to yours, letting go of all your fears and holding on to Clarisse like she's your anchor, you close the gap between your lips, welcoming the kind of pleasure that you've never tasted before.

[y3sterdaysproblem]

you’re not sorry - m.s.

part one of avery’s playlist series

summary: could’ve loved you all my life if you hadn’t left me in the cold

warnings: angst, sensitive topics, no happy ending.

{read with caution}

wc: 3k+

Another night.

Another night waiting up for your boyfriend who could never be bothered to let you know when he’d be home; if he’d even be coming home that night.

It was like this for months at this point. Day after day of you waiting up just for him to stumble inside smelling like alcohol and weed, clothes disheveled as he plows through your front door. You didn’t even know what had changed, but it had.

Things were so good, beyond good, to the point where you guys were considering marriage, considering a family. Maybe it was all too much for him, but that wasn’t your burden to bear.

Your perfect, loving boyfriend had turned into someone you barely recognized, having to look so hard to find pieces of the man you fell for in the man you no longer knew.

You were about to give up and head to bed when you heard keys jingling at the front door, the man outside clearly struggling to unlock it. You stayed planted on the couch, waiting for him to finally come crashing in and make up some excuse about what he was doing out so late. You never believed him anymore.

When the door swung open and your boyfriend stumbled through it, his eyes met yours almost instantly, a small, forced smile appearing on his face. “Hey, baby,” he calls out, shutting the door behind him and kicking his shoes off before he made his way towards you, tripping over his own feet once or twice until he sat down next to you.

You let out an aggravated sigh, standing up and walking away from the couch, not wanting to sit next to him and smell the alcohol leeching off of his breath. It was beyond disgusting and if the smell didn’t make you sick, the thought of everything would. The thought of your life crumbling in a matter of months was enough to make you cry so hard you threw up on multiple occasions, the depression caused by this man that swore he loved you being the culprit of so many breakdowns you couldn’t even count anymore.

“You’re drunk, Matt,” you grumble, crossing your arms.

His eyes trail up to you, shaking his head quickly. “I’m not drunk, just tipsy, I swear. I stopped drinking a few hours ago.”

Your heart dropped. A few hours ago?

“And where have you been in those last few hours, hm?” You question, not really knowing if you wanted to know the answer.

Matt groans, throwing his head back on the couch. “Here we fucking go. All you do is nag on me fucking constantly, why do you think I’m gone all the time? I’ll tell you. Because you can’t fucking shut the fuck up and let me live for two minutes. You’re always up my ass asking me what I’m doing or who I’m with.”

Your heart starts to race in your chest, knowing you’re about to get in another fight with the man you used to never argue with. You used to have perfect communication, always able to work through your issues and things that bothered you, but now it was like a flip switched and he wanted to argue about everything, sober or not.

“I never see you anymore, Matt! You’re never home to just spend time with me! All I fucking want is to lay in bed and watch a movie with my boyfriend who cuddles with me and tells me he loves me! You act like I don’t exist and it hurts and I’m trying to stay but sometimes I wonder why I do.” Your voice is shaky as you speak, the adrenaline and emotions quickly getting to you. You never were good at fighting without crying.

“Why?” Matt questions quietly, dropping his gaze to his lap.

You’re confused. “Why what?” You ask him dryly, arms still crossed in an attempt to protect yourself, almost like you were protecting your heart.

He’s quiet for a moment before he speaks. “Why try to stay? If I’m so awful?”

Your breath catches in your throat. Was this it? Was this the fight you’ve been fearing for the last few weeks? Has everything you both have worked towards finally hit a wall?

“Because… because I keep hoping this is just a phase and you’ll snap out of it and love me again,” you choke out, tears filling your eyes. “I don’t understand what I did to make you not love me anymore and every day that I sit here by myself and think about it, I can’t come up with an answer and you won’t tell me. I would do fucking anything for you and you can’t even tell me you love me anymore.”

Matt let out a big sigh, picking at a rip in his jeans absentmindedly. “I do love you, I just… I need some time to myself.”

You scoff, crying now and not trying to stop it. “You don’t think I would’ve given you time? Space? Matt, all you had to say was that you were getting overwhelmed and needed time think about what you wanted, I would’ve understood that. Do you understand the fucking weight behind that? You have a woman who would let you take a step back from a relationship just because she knows how much you value your own space and time and your own autonomy. You will never fucking find a woman that will treat you the way I treat you. You will never find someone who loves you unconditionally through everything, including this. I swear to god, Matt, you better get your act together before you come home to fucking nothing.”

“Maybe that’s what I want!” Matt yells suddenly, getting up from the couch to walk over to you. You weren’t afraid, you knew he’d never hit you, but he’s also never yelled in your face like this either. “Maybe every fucking night I come home hoping you’ve packed up all of your shit and left. Hell, you could pack my shit and I’d be happy, I don’t fucking care, I just want to come home and know that you’ve finally given up on me. Don’t you get it? I’m trying to make it easy for you. I’m trying to be the worst boyfriend I could possibly be and you still won’t leave!”

The moment he’s done speaking you swear you could hear a pin drop. You felt like your world had completely stopped spinning on its axis.

You’re lightheaded as you stare at Matt, tears flowing freely down your face. He really was completely unrecognizable.

“What did I do?” You cried, still wanting nothing more than to feel your boyfriend’s arms wrap around you and tell you everything was going to be okay. But he wouldn’t, and it wasn’t. “Why do you hate me so much?”

Matt listened to your cries with a straight face, barely even seeming like he cared. “I just… don’t want to be with you anymore. Our relationship has run its course.”

You drop your head and let out a broken sob, reaching a hand up to try to wipe away your tears, but it was to no avail, they would just keep coming. “I love you with everything I have, I… I need you, Matt, how could you do this?”

Matt is silent, feeling like he’s already said all he needed to say. If he cared at all, he really didn’t show it.

You pick your head back up and look at Matt, your own eyes red and puffy, when you see it. You think it’s a shadow at first, but the more you stare, the more you realize your eyes aren’t deceiving you. You take a step forward and reach towards Matt, pulling the hood off his head and tugging the collar down, another choked cry falling from your lips.

“Is that a fucking hickey?” You accuse, looking up to meet his eyes. “You’re fucking cheating on me, too?!”

Matt grabs your wrist and pulls it away from him, throwing your arm back towards yourself before pulling his hood back up. “Back the fuck up, dude, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You laugh in his face, shaking your head in disbelief. “You are so fucking pathetic, Matt,” you spit at him. “You are so much of a pussy that you couldn’t even be a man and break up with me, you needed me to do it for you. Do you feel good about yourself? Knowing you cheated on someone who would literally give you the world? God, I can’t believe I almost gave you a fucking kid, you’re a joke of a partner. I feel bad for anyone that has to deal with you for the rest of their life.”

Matt clenches his jaw tightly at your words, hating how you knew exactly how to strike a nerve with him. “You think I feel good about this? I fucking don’t but I didn’t know what else to do, you would’ve never listened if I tried to leave you, you would’ve talked me into staying and I would’ve been miserable for the rest of my life!”

“You are the one that said you wanted a family! The one that said you wanted to marry me and buy our own farm and live in the middle of fucking nowhere! You said all of those things, not me!” You wanted to hit him so bad. To shake him, to kick him, to do anything to make him see how none of this made sense to you. How could he say all of those things and turn on you so quickly?

You two were laid in bed under the blankets, neither of you ready to get out of bed for the day just yet. The sun shone through the blinds, illuminating Matt’s face perfectly, his blue eyes reflecting the light in a way that had you damn near in a trance, unable to pull your own eyes away from him. “I hope our babies have your eyes,” you tell him quietly, both of you laying on your sides to face each other.

He smiled shyly at you, closing his eyes for a moment. “Stop admiring me, it makes me awkward.” He mumbled, making you laugh.

“I’m your girlfriend, I’m supposed to admire you. Plus, it helps that you’re really hot and easy to admire.” You reach up and brush your hands through his hair that definitely needs a trim, pulling it back from his face to get a better view. “I’m serious, though. Your eyes are so pretty compared to mine.”

Matt opens his eyes and shoots you an annoyed look. “Stop it, our kids would be lucky to have any of your features, you’re fucking stunning.”

You giggle and roll over onto your back, staring at the ceiling for a few moments before speaking. “Do you ever think about that? Like what our kids will look like? I think about it all the time. Especially like… a little girl, running around with your bright blue eyes and your big smile. I just know if we had a little girl she’d be so beautiful, Matt.” You turn your head towards your boyfriend to see him already smiling at you.

“I think about it all the time,” he starts, reaching a hand out to rest on your stomach that had been exposed by your shirt riding up, softly trailing his thumb back and forth. “I think about how protective I’d be if we had a daughter, or daughters. I think about how much of an honor it would be to raise a son with you. I think about what would happen if you got pregnant with twins or, god forbid, triplets.” You laugh at this, knowing it would be an absolute shit show. “I think about our kids, sure, but a lot of times I think to myself, ‘wow, if I love her so much now, I can’t imagine how much I’ll love her when she’s the mother of my children.’ That’s what I think.”

Your eyes become glossy and your vision goes slightly blurry as you stare at Matt, seeing the sincerity in his eyes as he spoke to you. “I love you,” you tell him and his face lights up, leaning in to place a small kiss on your lips.

“I love you more.”

“I did,” Matt shrugs his shoulders like it was no big deal. “But feelings change. People change.”

You shake your head angrily, not believing him. “No, not like that. Feelings don’t change like that, Matt. You met somebody else, didn’t you? All this time you’ve been seeing someone else.”

Matt groans, rubbing his eyes harshly. “So what?! It doesn’t matter, we’re over now, right? I’ll sleep on the couch and pack my shit tomorrow, can we just go to bed?”

You sniffle, the truth finally setting in that he’s completely given up and there was no getting him back. The Matt you once loved was gone forever and there was nothing you could do about it.

So you decided to land the final blow and make him realize how stupid he really was.

You grab his right hand with your left, facing it palm up as you reach your free hand into your pocket, grabbing the strip of paper you had kept in there, waiting for the perfect moment to drop this bomb on him. You slap the paper into his open hand before taking a step away, crossing your arms again.

“What is this?” Matt asks, staring down at the photos in front of him, panic setting in his chest. “Babe… babe, what is this?” He looks up at you, eyes wide. You swear you could almost hear his heart pounding.

“It’s an ultrasound, jackass.” You snap at him, completely over his shit.

Matt’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, eyes snapping between you and the photos. “You’re… pregnant?” He chokes out. Despite all the alcohol he’s consumed tonight, he feels the most sober he has in weeks, the reality of the situation crashing into him like a truck.

You laugh at his reaction, hating how he suddenly cared about you again. “Was,” you tell him bluntly, shrugging your shoulders like nothing you said mattered. “Turns out never getting any sleep and stressing out over your loser, lowlife boyfriend isn’t good for a baby.”

Matt lets out a huff of air like his lungs had collapsed in on him, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole. “You… you were pregnant, and now you’re not?” He asks quietly, his own voice now shaking.

“Yes, Matthew, I was and now I’m not. That’s how that fucking works.” You walk over and snatch the pictures from him, ignoring his pleas of denial. “While you were out doing whatever the fuck or whoever the fuck you wanted, I was here throwing up every day by my fucking self, barely even able to eat oatmeal without getting sick. I was here reading up on how to get through pregnancy or how to be a good mother. I was here shopping for fucking baby clothes and decorations. And I was the one here miscarrying in our bed, by myself!” You have no idea when you started crying again, but you were, and there was no stopping it this time. “I was the one going to doctors appointments and listening to our baby’s teeny tiny heart beating. I was here looking at pictures of her tiny feet and tiny toes, wondering if she’d look like you or like me. I was here picking up the pieces when I found out her teeny tiny heart had stopped.”

Matt’s eyes had filled with tears now, too, his bright blue eyes only made brighter by the reflection of the lamp lit in the corner of the room. “Her?” He croaked, voice failing him. “It was a girl?”

You let out a sob, nodding your head weakly. “I found out the day I found out she was gone,” you cry, voice entering a higher pitch from your throat tightening. “I wanted her so bad, Matt, and I was just waiting for you to come around so I could tell you, and… you just never did and now we’re over. I went from a girl who wanted nothing more than a family with the man she loves to being a girl who’s oddly grateful she lost a baby so she doesn’t have to deal with looking at her daughter that reminds her of the man that broke her heart.”

Matt reaches up to wipe the tears from his cheeks, releasing a shaky breath out. “I’m sorry,” he whimpers, looking you dead in the eyes. “I’m sorry, if I had known-.”

“If you had known then what? You wouldn’t have treated me like shit? You wouldn’t have cheated? That should’ve been the bare fucking minimum, Matt, and now you’ve let down who was supposed to be the two most important girls in your life.” You point your finger at him as you speak, wanting to drive your point home and let him know how badly he had fucked up. “I would’ve done fucking anything for you, including growing your baby, and you threw that away, not me.”

“I was just scared, it was all happening so fast!” Matt wails, reaching out for you. “I got overwhelmed with the thought of settling down and I freaked out, I’m sorry.”

You push his hands away, ignoring his pleas. “You said it yourself, Matt. It’s over. Besides, I can’t bring her back. I’m always going to look at you and remember how you treated me when I had your baby inside me, and how you treated me when I dealt with the loss of our baby.”

Matt sobbed, placing his head in his hands as his shoulder shook. “I didn’t know!”

“You shouldn’t have to know!” You cried, hands flailing in front of you as you spoke, or more yelled. “You shouldn’t have to know I’m pregnant just to treat me like your fucking girlfriend! I would’ve done anything for you, including give up my body for nine months to give you a family, and you couldn’t even be loyal, and you have to live with that for the rest of your fucking life.”

Matt sunk to his knees in front of you, head resting on your stomach as he wraps his arms around your hips. You just stare down at him, your tears dripping into his hair. “I’m so sorry, please let me fix this,” he sobs into your sweater, hands gripping the back of it. “I fucked up so bad, I see that now.”

The sight of him made you want to crumble. You wanted to give in, to comfort him, to forget these last few months and go back to being the perfect happy couple you used to be. You didn’t know how you were supposed to live without him after all this time.

But you deserved better.

“Get up,” you tell him quietly and he turns his head up to look at you, cheeks soaked with his own tears. You reach down and cup his cheek, thumb swiping under his eyes to wipe new tears that fell. “Get up, Matt.”

He sniffles and obliges, standing in front of you once again, closer this time.

“You’re not sorry you hurt me,” you start, voice surprisingly calm. “You’re just sorry it backfired so badly.”

Matt grabs your hand that still rested on his face, holding it close and leaning into it. “Please,” he says, voice raspy. “Can we spend one more night together?”

You break eye contact to drop your eyes to the floor, shoulders shaking with the sob that ripped through your body.

“Yes,” you croak out, immediately melting into the arms that wrapped themselves around you like you’d disappear if he let go, your face tucking into his neck that smelled like cheap, floral perfume, the scent feeling like a dagger to your heart.

You ignored it, though. Anything for one more night with the love of your life.

-

taglist

[angelsworks]

A Scarab Knows Jaime Reyes (Blue Beetle) x reader

Summary: Times when the scarab on your boyfriends back caught you in a lie.

Warnings: Smut, angst, insecure!reader, talks of period, 18+

Moodboard credit goes to @your-yandere-kiss They’ve got so many other great moodboards. I’d definitely recommend you check them out if you like that sort of thing.

DC Masterlist

It took a while to get used to the scarab. Khaji Da was not what you were expecting Jaime to reveal after a couple of months of dating. Your boyfriend was so nervous as he explained the ancient alien that held the power of the blue beetle that had bonded to his back. At first you had no response. Then you wanted to see it to which Jaime happily obliged.

Your eyes found the shiny blue shell of the beetle in line with Jamie’s shoulder blades. Call it morbid curiosity that lead you to reaching out and gently tracing part of the scarab. When red eyes opened and glowed along the scarabs elytra in response you jumped back in surprise. The action causing Jaime to jump up and away from you.

He didn’t say anything, instead staring almost blankly at something behind you. An action you’d found him doing throughout your relationship. Only now did you realise it was because of Khaji Da.

Finally he spoke, “I think it likes you.”

From then on things got better with Jamie. There were no secrets between the two of you anymore and you could continue your relationship in peace. Well almost in peace. The scarab on his back was to blame for that.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Khaji Da, it’s just that it was almost like another person you had to share your boyfriend with. A person that was with him all the time. A person that he has secret talks with. A person that he fought crime with.

You weren’t jealous. Jaime was yours and Khaji Da had no interest in him like that. It was just hard getting used to being in a relationship with Jaime and now Khaji Da. After telling you about his scarab Jaime could talk to it more openly, without you thinking he was strange. Sometimes you’d be with Jaime watching a movie and he’d answer a question you hadn’t asked. Or other times you’d be looking for something you’d lost and he’d blurt out it’s location, claiming Khaji Da had told him.

Khaji Da wasn’t all bad, in fact it treated you kindly and as a valued person to Jaime. Over time it too became protective like Jaime towards you. A gesture you found sweet. Well mostly sweet.

One evening you saw the positives to the scarab on your boyfriends back.

The day you’d had was one for the history books. Anything that could go wrong, did go wrong. This morning you overslept for class meaning you had to rush out the door. In class you realised you left your paper you’d been working on at your home. After class you went to your job at a local restaurant. A job that on a good day would wear you down and drain your social skills. But on a bad day? It was unimaginable. To add to it you started your period mid shift, unprepared of course.

Finally at the end of the day you remembered the plans you had to stay over at your boyfriends apartment. Despite feeling anything but happy, you plastered a smile on your face and pushed your tears back as you greeted him. You hugged him tightly and kept up your facade. Engaging in small talk about your day and your class. Purposely leaving out or brushing over the majority of bad bits.

Jaime was buying the facade of course and you couldn’t blame him. The two of you hadn’t been dating for long and he hadn’t learnt you yet. However Khaji Da had, or to some extent it had.

A quick body scan had revealed your true feelings. Your low mood, recently working tear ducts and uterus walls cramping. All of which was relayed to Jaime whose face quickly took to looking crestfallen.

“Mi Vida, why would you lie to me?” Jaime asks softly. Pulling you from beside him on the couch to his lap.

You look at him startled. Unable to form words or even think of a coherent answer. But he waits for one. Even though it takes a few beats of silence.

“What - how do you know?” You ask him perplexed.

His tongue swipes out over his lips, “Khaji Da scans almost everyone I meet. It makes a habit of scanning you especially.”

You nod slowly, letting the new information sink in. You wonder just how much Khaji Da knows about you. You wonder how much information it passed on to Jaime each time you met. Was this the first time it caught you out in a lie, or just the first time Jaime chose to bring it up.

“I didn’t want to burden you with my bad day Jaime. You seemed so happy. I just wanted to enjoy being with you today.”

Jaime sighed and held you impossibly closer. Rubbing your back as you let out a few tears.

“Nothing you tell me would burden me. I love you so much Cielo.” Jaime whispers in your ear.

“Cielo?” You ask, unsure of the endearment.

“It means sky or heaven. That’s what you are to me. Nothing my Cielo tells me burdens me. You are my world, Mi Vida.”

Although Khaji Da’s interference worked out this time, it didn’t always. One time in particular didn’t end well with Jaime.

It was just past nine when your eyes glanced over to the clock on the bedside lamp. Jaime had been pounding into you for what felt like hours. He’d been out all evening doing something for Kord industries. The topic a sore one as you knew of the previous feelings he felt for Jenny.

You tried to put your feelings aside and remember that Jaime was with you now, not her. Your efforts hadn’t been good enough as Khaji Da and Jaime had seen right through it. Leaving him no choice but to show you just how much he loved you.

Yet the hurried passion between you hadn’t given you the stimulation you needed to reach your climax even once. There was little foreplay and things unraveled and quickly lead to him being deep inside you.

At one point you’d moved your fingers to your clit, trying to gain something to take you over the edge. Jaime, thinking you were acting up as you often did with him (in dynamic of course) removed your hand and pinned it with your other above your head. He gave you a gentle kiss and whispered some dirty words in your ear.

“Are you close?” He panted, still hammering into you. You thought about saying no, then wondered what he would think. You started to feel insecure in the fact that your orgasm was taking so long. So you decided to pretend.

It wasn’t something you’d ever had to do before but once wouldn’t hurt, would it?

You moaned out a reply and started your act. Rolling your eyes back into your skull, praising your partner for his work, clenching your walls on his cock. It wasn’t long before he followed you. Stilling inside you before reaching his own.

After pulling out slowly and kissing your temple he rolled over, having a moment before getting a wash cloth for you.

Silence hung in the air. Comfortable silence of course, but silence non the less. Jamie’s hand found yours, holding it gently as he often did.

Some time passed before his grip changed and became tighter. He turned on his side and looked at you accusingly.

“You faked it?” He asked, a little hurt but mostly angry.

Your eyes widened and you could feel your face heating up. “Jaime it’s not like that, you know I wouldn’t - ”

“But you did, or else Khaji Da wouldn’t have brought it up.”

You let out a huff, “Why does it matter. I’m sure it happens to plenty of couples all the time. I’m fine. Your fine. Let’s just go to bed.”

You move to roll over only to be pulled back by an angry Jaime. You’d never seen him this annoyed before about something you’d done. Usually you couldn’t put a foot wrong with him. He thought everything about you was great. It would be a lie to say his anger didn’t make you guilty about being dishonest.

“It matters because your my girlfriend. We aren’t just another couple. And while I’ve got working fingers, a working tongue and a working cock I have no excuse not to make you cum.” He tells you in earnest, putting his anger aside for a minute.

Although the sentiment is there, his wording isn’t. Jamie’s right, everything about him works. There’s no reason he shouldn’t be able to make you cum. It’s you that’s the problem and that same insecurity creeps back in once more. Making you doubt if there was something wrong with you. Making you remember why you lied in the first place. You didn’t want him to think less of you.

“So why Mi Vida, why lie to me? You know I love you.”

You huff again but this time it’s more pitiful as you feel your throat tightening. “It’s not you Jaime, it was me. It just wasn’t happening. I don’t know if I needed more foreplay or something. Maybe it’s just me, maybe there’s something wrong. Please let’s just go to sleep.” You practically beg. The warmth in your face ever increasing from the embarrassment you now feel.

As he understands your words he feels his anger dissipate. “There is nothing wrong with you Cielo, I should have done more before you know, going inside you. It was rushed. But you need to know that there is nothing to be embarrassed about. I love making you cum.”

You smile, leaning over to kiss Jaime. Who responded eagerly almost trying to make up for lost time. Showing you that there was nothing wrong with you at all.

“Let me show you how much I love doing it Mi Vida.”

You could only nod as your boyfriend spent the rest of the night doing everything he could to make you cum.

By the time he’d done you’d finished a record number of times and had forgotten any ill will you’d felt towards Khaji Da. It turned out to be quite useful.

[happy74827]

Chaos Theory

[Mike Schmidt x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When Mike's crazy schedule finally aligns with one of the so-called "parental meetings" at Abby's school, he decides to see what it's all about. Little did he know he'd come to seriously regret that.

WC: 2,590

Category: Slight Fluff

I failed an exam today, so I wrote this to cheer myself up. I still feel pretty crappy, but this was really fun to write lol.

Also if you see any grammar mistakes, no you didn’t.

『••✎••』

When it came to Abby’s school, Mike was at a disadvantage. He couldn’t go to any of the parental meetings, not because he didn’t want to, but because he was constantly doing something work-related during the time those meetings were scheduled.

It didn’t mean he wasn’t keeping an eye on her grades and school attendance. It just meant he couldn't be there for the day-to-day things. Abby was a good kid, though; she never gave him trouble about the things he missed, and she did a pretty good job of keeping her grades up and attending all her classes.

Her teacher, you, was also very understanding of his schedule and position. He wasn’t sure how many teachers would have been as patient with him as you were. It was part of the reason he had grown fond of you, though it had been a gradual process that happened mostly unbeknownst to him.

At the beginning of the year, he had only been concerned about getting Abby acclimated to her new school. She was a quiet kid, stuck to her drawings, and it was even hard for him to get her to open up sometimes. Runs in the family, apparently. But, somehow, you were able to break down the wall that had been erected around her. Abby still didn't talk all that much, but she would always come back from school with a smile on her face. So, Mike was happy.

Then, like all good things, it came crashing down like a house of cards when his work schedule finally aligned with one of the “upcoming” meetings. This one was apparently a very big deal, and it was strongly implied to show up.

He hated these things despite never going to any before, but he just knew it would be filled with nosey people asking questions about his life. His sister. His “wife.”

God, he was already annoyed. The only saving grace was that it was the last meeting before the holiday break, so once it was over, he would be free for a while. Free to do what, exactly? Work, most likely, but a guy can dream.

The bell rang, signifying the end of the school day and the start of his personal nightmare. The door to the classroom was opened by one of the school's assistants, who held a clipboard in hand and waited for the “parents” to enter the room. He had arrived earlier than the scheduled time so he could speak to the assistant and find out what the meeting would entail, and already he knew it was a bad idea coming in here.

The woman was a nosy old biddy that was all too eager to learn the details of his and Abby's life.

He kept his answers short and clipped, but it did nothing to dissuade the woman. It got worse when he entered the classroom and saw the number of other parents who had shown up. He felt like an animal in a zoo; all the eyes followed his movements as he went to sit closest to the wall and away from the rest of the people.

The surrounding parents looked as though they lived in the next town over. They were clean-cut, hair styled perfectly, and clothes ironed. It was like they were trying to be a picture-perfect family.

He looked down at his own attire. His work boots were scuffed and dusty. His pants had a few grass stains from a recent job. His flannel shirt was buttoned wrong, and the sleeves were pushed up. Even his hair was a mess; he had tried to style it but didn't have much success, so he eventually gave up. The only thing going for him was that he had taken a shower before he left, so at least he didn't smell like sweat and grime.

As the meeting began, Mike had to try his best not to fall asleep. It was the typical teacher stuff. How the kids were doing. What the curriculum was for the following year. What their goals were. Blah, blah, blah.

Mike didn't care. He trusted you, and he knew his little sister was smart. She didn't need someone holding her hand and telling her what she was doing right or wrong. He knew this because he did that, and she didn't need it.

What did interest him, though, was the fact you kept looking his way. You didn't look at the others, and when you spoke, it was usually aimed toward them, but he saw the way you would look at him from the corner of your eye. He figured you were probably in shock that he actually showed up this time.

The meeting dragged on, and he was ready to leave. There were a few moments he had caught himself nodding off as he needed sleep, and this wasn't helping him. But then, like everything else in his life, the universe decided it was his time to suffer.

There was one woman who had sat at the front of the classroom. She wore her hair pulled back tight in a bun, her shirt was pressed, and her face was set in a permanent frown. He hated that lady; she reminded him of his good-for-nothing aunt who only wanted to criticize every choice he made.

The lady was also the mother of the most spoiled, brattiest child in the whole class. That damned kid had made it her life mission to torment Abby. He had come home more than once with her complaining about it, and when Mike had brought it up with you, you had told him that you had spoken with the parent.

That, of course, had done nothing. The child was an annoying pest, and he hated the way she treated Abby, but his sister had learned early on to deal with the bullying on her own. It didn't stop him from wanting to throttle the little shit, though.

The woman, the one who had started all his problems, took the opportunity to start a round of questioning. The first few were innocuous until they weren't.

"You seem to be a very patient woman." The woman had spoken to you, but her eyes were locked on him. "Is it a skill that was learned?"

The question itself was innocent enough, but the inflection and tone she used were meant to cut. He wasn't stupid. He knew she was alluding to something. It was always something, but he had to force himself not to say anything; the woman was a viper, and if he said something, she would attack without hesitation.

"I think anyone can be patient," You had responded diplomatically. "It's just a matter of the situation."

The woman didn't look happy with your answer, but she didn't pursue the line of questioning.

"Well, I couldn’t help but notice a certain someone who decided to finally drop in."

There it was. That was the opening.

Mike could tell you didn’t like the turn of conversation, and you were clearly trying to divert it elsewhere. It was no use, though. Mike could see the glint in the woman's eye as she prepared for the kill. She had a smile on her face, but her eyes were cold. "I was starting to think that Mr. Schmidt had abandoned his responsibilities. Wouldn’t be the first time someone in that family did such a thing."

He couldn’t help but have visions of his accidental mall incident from last year flash in his mind when he processed what the woman had said. He could easily hop over the desk and deck her right in the mouth. He had the muscle for it, and it was very tempting.

However, he would not.

If there was anything Mike had learned over the years, it was how to control his emotions, even if the situation was dire. The last time he had lost his cool, he ended up getting fired, but that was a long time ago… okay, not really, but the point was, he wouldn't make the same mistake again.

He wouldn't give the woman the satisfaction.

Mike leaned forward in his chair, arms crossed over his knees, and looked the woman straight in the eyes. "That's funny. I could say the same thing about your kid."

"Excuse me?!" She hissed, and she seemed offended. Good. He hoped she was offended.

"Okay, okay." You intervened, hands up as if to placate the two of them. "Let's keep this civil, okay? The last thing we want is to be kicked out of the school for brawling. That's not beneficial for any of us." You then looked back at the woman. "Let's not bring personal matters into this."

"Personal matters?" The woman was appalled at your statement, and her voice was so loud in the quiet room. He could tell many of the other parents were looking at them now, and he felt the weight of their gazes on him. It only made his anger spike. "That monkey of his tried to bully mine for three months now, and she's never done anything."

Monkey? Monkey?! Oh, he was going to kill her. It was one thing to talk shit about him; he was used to that, but Abby? No. Absolutely not. His little sister was the best damn thing to come into his life. He wouldn't have it.

But before he could say something, before he could even get out of the chair, you had done something he would never have thought you would. You got up and went to your desk, then you returned, holding a paper. You held it up for all the parents to see.

"This is a drawing my students did a few weeks ago," you started, and he was surprised at the level of calmness you were exuding. "The assignment was for them to draw the thing they loved the most."

Hearing those words, Mike had a feeling what was coming next, but he wasn't going to say anything. It would be like tempting fate. Still, he watched as you grabbed one of the papers, and then you turned it around so he could see it. Abby had done the drawing, and it was not only of him but of everyone else in her class as well. She had even drawn you standing near her with a kind smile. It was the picture she had brought home from that field trip months ago. It was a nice picture. Really nice. He liked it, and he knew Abby was proud of it.

"I made copies of every drawing so the parents could see them," You continued as you held out the picture for everyone to see. "So, tell me, would a bully do this?"

Your voice had a bite to it now, and he could finally see just how angry you were. He was surprised at how much control you were exerting. The other parents, however, were shocked at your sudden display of emotion. Even the woman, who had looked as though she was ready to take you on herself, looked like a deer caught in headlights. She didn't know what to say. No one said anything. Even he was shocked by your sudden outburst.

You were normally such a mellow person. Understanding, even. Always ready to listen, always ready to understand. You were the one who was there to help when something went wrong. You were the person who everyone turned to. You were… nice. You were a kind person. You were—you were just like Abby. That's all he saw in you now. You were just like his sister. You were just like her. You had that same determination and that same look of knowing something that others didn't, but there was also something else. You were a fighter, too. It was just something he hadn't noticed until this very moment.

You weren't the nice teacher everyone thought you were. No, you were more. You were the person he knew his sister was becoming.

"And to answer your question from before," you continued, ignoring the growing outrage from the other parent. "I'm a very patient woman because I understand that not everyone has the same opportunities. Some of us have a responsibility to provide the basic necessities for our family, which can often lead to not being able to attend these types of meetings.”

You looked directly at the woman when you spoke the last part, and you did not look happy. At all. In fact, he was pretty sure that was a little vein on the side of your head.

"Not everyone can be at their best every moment. Not everyone is at their best all the time. Not everyone has the privilege to complain about things not going their way. So, while I am a very patient woman, I will not have any of this derogatory about my students and their guardians." The calmness in your voice was gone, and your voice was rising, and you had started pacing back and forth behind your desk as you spoke. "Because if there is one thing that I cannot stand, it's someone who criticizes others just to make themselves feel better."

You went on to speak about your experience with the woman's daughter, explaining that a meeting needed to be called upon to address the issues with the child. You didn't stop there, though. No, you also spoke about how she should have addressed the situation when it was first brought up and how that, in turn, impacted the rest of your class. You had even pointed out some of the other parent's children who had done the same thing.

Suddenly, this meeting wasn't as bad as he thought it would be.

It took a while, but once you finished your little speech, everyone had finally gotten over their shock and embarrassment. The meeting, as such, continued without incident, and by the time it was all said and done, Mike was ready to go home.

As he stood from his seat and made his way to the door, however, you stopped him. You had your bag in your hand and your coat on as well.

"I just wanted to—"

"You don't need to apologize," Mike cut you off. He didn't want an apology. He knew you weren't at fault here. In fact, he was surprised you took the time even to defend him. That didn't happen often. "I was expecting something like that to happen, but I appreciate you speaking up for Abby. She's got a good teacher."

He thought you would be embarrassed or even annoyed, but instead, your face lit up, and your cheeks turned red. "Oh, uh, well, it's my job. It was what I needed to do."

"Maybe, but you did it anyway. So, I appreciate it." He looked around the room and noticed everyone else had left. Even the nosy assistant had disappeared. He didn't know what to say, so he settled with saying the first thing that came to mind. "And hey, maybe next time you can tell them this is why I don't go to these meetings."

Your laugh was light, and you had a smile on your face. He liked the sound of it. He liked seeing it, too. He also liked the way it lit up your eyes. They had a beautiful color. So bright, so shiny. It was almost hypnotic.

"I'll consider it."

Mike wasn't sure how, but somehow, he knew you were telling the truth.

[bat-mom-writer]

Beneath the Cowl

Reader(wife) X Bruce Wayne(husband)

Summery: Bruce finds out that you aren't afraid of the scary Batman. So he tries to scare you.

Note: It does get a little dark at one point, it's Bruce trying to scare reader as to why you should be afraid of him.

If you're more into being scared of the batman and want some fear comfort, check out End of Terror.

(I do NOT own any DC characters)

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

"Mom, are you ever scared of dad?" Tim Drake, the youngest of the bunch, looked up at you from under his thick lashes as he sat in your office, surrounded by the organized chaos that was your paperwork.

You paused, your pen hovering over the contract you were reviewing. You studied Tim, curious as to why he asked such a question. "Why would I be scared of him?" you replied, keeping your tone neutral.

Tim fidgeted in his chair. "Well, you know, because he's Batman."

You couldn't help the slight smirk that tugged at the corners of your mouth. You leaned back, your gaze softening. "Bruce is many things, Tim. But when he's with us, he's not Batman. He's your father, and he's my husband." You set your pen down and folded your hands in your lap. "But to answer your question, no, I'm not scared of him. Not in the way you're thinking."

Tim's eyes grew wide. "But he's so… intense. And he fights all those bad guys."

You nodded thoughtfully, rising from your sit and stepping around your desk. "That's true. But he does that to protect us. To protect Gotham." You reached over and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "And when he's with us, he's just Bruce. He's the man who reads bedtime stories and makes terrible dad jokes."

Tim looked skeptical. "But when he's Batman, he's… like, super intimidating. Doesn't it scare you?"

"Nope, not one bit," you said, your voice firm and steady, a knowing smile playing across your lips. "You see, when you know someone as well as I know Bruce, you understand that the Batman persona is just a mask."

Tim tilted his head, intrigued by his mother's perspective. "But what if he forgets to take it off? What if he's too in the zone, you know?"

You chuckled, your eyes sparkling. "Oh, honey, let me tell you a little secret." You leaned closer, as if sharing a treasure trove of knowledge. "When Bruce tries to be all intimidating around me, I just think he's adorable."

Tim's jaw dropped. "You think Batman is adorable?"

You nodded, your laughter subsiding into a warm smile. "Yes, I do. Sometimes, when he's trying to be all brooding and mysterious, I just want to pinch his cheeks and tell him to lighten up."

Tim stared at you, his mind racing with the implications. "Does he know that?"

"Know what?" You asked, feigning innocence.

"That you think he's adorable when he's trying to be intimidating," Tim said, his voice filled with a mix of awe and bewilderment.

"Well, it's not exactly something I announce at the dinner table," you said with a wink.

Later that evening, Tim found himself stepping down the secret stair case leading to the Batcave, his heart racing. He had to see this for himself. As he approached the cave's entrance, he could hear the distant sound of Bruce working on some new gadget.

Tim took a deep breath and pushed the door open, only to find Bruce in his Bruce Wayne attire, not the Batsuit. He was bent over a worktable, his brow furrowed in concentration as he worked on a tiny, complex mechanism.

"Tim," Bruce said, not looking up from his work. "What brings you down here?"

Tim swallowed hard, his earlier bravado gone. "I… uh… I was just wondering around," he mumbled.

Bruce glanced up, his eyes sharp but not unkind. "Is there something you needed?"

Tim hesitated, unsure of how to phrase his question. "Dad… I heard something about mom finding Batman… you know, cute?"

Bruce's hand paused mid-turn on a tiny screwdriver, his eyes meeting Tim's with surprise. "What do you mean, 'cute'?"

Tim shuffled his feet, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Well, she said that when you're trying to be all serious and scary, she thinks you're adorable."

Bruce's hand paused mid-air, and his head snapped up. "Adorable?" he echoed, his eyebrows shooting up in disbelief.

Tim nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips despite his nervousness. "Yeah, she said she wants to pitch your cheeks and tell you to lighten up."

Bruce stared at him for a long moment, the gears in his mind clearly working overtime. Then, to Tim's shock, he burst out laughing. It was a full, belly laugh that echoed through the cavernous space of the Batcave. "Adorable?" he said again, shaking his head.

Tim couldn't help but laugh too, the tension in his shoulders easing. "I know, right? It's kind of hard to picture."

Wiping a tear from his eye, Bruce stood up and ruffled Tim's hair. "You're telling me," he chuckled. "But your mother has always had a way of seeing through the tough exterior."

Tim's curiosity was piqued. "Does she ever tell you that?"

Bruce's laughter subsided, and he gave Tim a look that was a mix of affection and amusement. "Not in so many words, no. But I suspect she enjoys watching me try."

Tim's smile grew wider, and he nodded in understanding. "So, she's not really scared of Batman at all?"

Bruce leaned against the worktable, his arms folded over his chest. "Scared? No. Worried for my safety, yes. But not scared of me." He paused, considering Tim's words. "Well, I never really tried to be intimidating in front of her. I wonder…" His voice trailed off, and his eyes took on a distant look.

Tim watched him, the wheels turning in his head. He'd never seen this side of his dad—Bruce Wayne contemplating something so… so human. It was like catching a glimpse behind the mask, seeing the man beneath the legend.

"Well, that's all I wanted," Tim said, his voice light. He took a step back, the weight of his curiosity lifted.

Bruce's expression grew thoughtful as he watched his son retreat. He knew Tim had come looking for reassurance, but he hadn't expected his mother's secret to be so… illuminating. He watched as Tim's footsteps grew fainter until they disappeared up the staircase. The sound of the door closing echoed through the Batcave, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

He couldn't help but wonder if you truly wasn't intimidated by the Dark Knight. It was something he'd never considered before—his wife seeing through the mask to find something endearing in the creature he became at night. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he set his tools aside and strode towards the Batsuit. It was time to find out just how 'cute' he could be.

In the master bed room, you sitting at your desk, going through more paper work. The room was shrouded in darkness, with only the warm glow of the lamp and your computer piercing through the shadows. The soft light cast a cozy ambiance, illuminating your focused face and the pile of files before you. The rest of the vast, opulent space remained hidden, giving the illusion that you were in a small, intimate study rather than the sprawling bedroom of Wayne Manor.

Without a sound, Bruce slipped in, his footsteps as silent as the night he prowled. He paused at the doorway, watching his wife with a fondness that filled his chest. You was so absorbed in your work that you didn't notice his presence—his cape blending with the shadows like a living part of the room. He approached you from behind, his movements deliberate and slow, savoring the moment of stealth.

As he reached your desk, he leaned over your shoulder, his chest plate brushing against your soft hair. Your eyes widened in the reflection of the computer screen, and you gasped, spinning around in your chair. You stared up at him, the surprise quickly replaced by a playful smile as you took in the sight of Bruce in the Batsuit, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"You're supposed to be scared," he murmured, his voice low and intimidating, the same tone he used to strike fear into the hearts of Gotham's criminals.

You looked up at him, your smile growing wider. "And why's that?" you teased, your eyes dancing.

Bruce leaned closer, his cape billowing around him like a dark cloud. His gaze was intense, a look that could make the bravest of men quake in their boots. "Because I'm the Dark Knight," he whispered, his voice a threatening rumble.

But instead of the reaction he was expecting, you just tilted your head to the side, your smile never wavering. "Oh, Bruce," you said, your tone light and teasing. "You know that doesn't work on me."

Bruce felt a twinge of disappointment, but he couldn't help the amusement bubbling up inside him. "Doesn't it?" he challenged, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of the game.

Your smile grew, your eyes lighting up with affection. "Not when you're so cute."

Bruce's raised an eyebrow, "Cute?" he echoed, his deep voice rumbling with indignation.

You nodded, your eyes sparkling with mirth. "Adorable, even," you said, leaning back in your chair. "I mean, come on. That brooding, intense look of yours. It's like you're trying so hard to be intimidating, but all it does is make me want to pinch your cheeks and say 'aww'."

Bruce felt a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the suit's power core. He hadn't anticipated this reaction, and he found himself both bemused and a bit… deflated. He straightened up, his arms falling to his sides. "So, I'm not scary?"

Your eyes twinkled with affection. "Not to me, you're not," you said. "You're more like a big, fluffy teddy bear that roars to scare off the monsters under the bed."

Bruce's jaw tightened, his pride slightly bruised. He knew he was more than just a 'fluffy teddy bear'—he was the protector of Gotham, the symbol that struck fear in the hearts of the wicked. But he couldn't deny the warmth your words brought him, and the way your eyes softened when you looked at him like that.

"Fine," he said, his voice still deep but with a hint of playfulness. "If I'm not scary enough, I'll give you a reason to be intimidated."

Your smile didn't waver as you watched him pull out the chair in front of you and sit down. You knew him well enough to recognize that look in his eyes—it was the same one he got when he was about to try a new tactic. You waited, your curiosity piqued, as he leaned closer.

"What are you planning?" you asked, your voice low and playful.

Without warning, Bruce suddenly grabbed the arm rest of your chair and pulled you towards him, his eyes narrowing into a more menacing gaze. For a brief second, your heart skipped a beat, your eyes going wide with genuine surprise. You couldn't help the nervous laugh that bubbled out, a sound that was equal parts amusement and actual fear.

"Oh, you think this is funny?" Bruce growled, his voice deepening in the best impression of a villain he could muster.

Your laughter grew as you leaned back in your chair, the wheels squeaking slightly as you put distance between them. "Bruce, you're not fooling me," you said, your eyes sparkling.

But Bruce was already in the zone. He took your chin gently between his gloved thumb and forefinger, his eyes now a deadly serious contrast to the playfulness from moments before. He brought your face down close to his, his gaze boring into yours, the mask's eye slits narrowing dangerously. "I am the night," he intoned, his voice a gravelly whisper that sent a shiver down your spine.

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips, your hand flying to your mouth to cover it.

"You're the night?" You repeated, your voice a delighted squeak. "Oh, Bruce, you're adorable when you try so hard."

"You should be scare of me," Bruce continued, his voice a gruff rumble that seemed to shake the very air around them.

"And why's that?" your asked, your curiosity piqued despite the playfulness of the situation.

Bruce paused, his grip on your chin tightening slightly as he searched for the right words. "Because," he said finally, his voice dropping to a dramatic whisper, Bruce went on, "I know more than fifty ways to take down a man with a paperclip, so you should be afraid of me. I could quickly and horribly take anyone's life. You should be terrified of me since I've lived with suffering my entire life and know how to deal with it, and hid it. If I ever so dared, I know the trick to letting all of my pain out and forcing it on you. Not just you, but all the people of Gotham. Finally, if I did let my pain take control, who could stop me? I know all the shortcomings of each superhero you can think of. They're all just a bunch of clowns to me, juggling justice with their fear of crossing the line. Like me. I know if I crossed the line, to be a god of everyone's life and death, I'd be feared. With the first death you would fear me. The second death, you would hate me. And by the time the third body hits the floor, you'd realize that you never knew who I was, what I could do. So, my dearly beloved, should you be afraid?"

Your smile slowly faded as you took in the sudden seriousness in his voice. Your eyes searched his, looking for the Bruce you knew beyond the mask. The room grew quiet, the air thick with the tension of his words. For a moment, you felt a true chill run down your spine, not from fear but from the gravity of his words. He was right; the man you loved had seen and experienced things that would break most people. But you knew he was also speaking the truth when he said he had control over his pain.

"Bruce," you said softly, your hand coming to rest on his forearm, the Kevlar beneath the suit's fabric feeling surprisingly warm and human. "We're not just talking about Batman anymore... are we?"

Bruce's grip on your chin loosened, and he looked away, his gaze drifting to the floor, with his hand falling beside him. "No," he admitted, his voice gruff. "I guess we're not."

You wrapped your arms around him, your embrace warm and unyielding. Bruce remained still for a moment, his body stiff and unyielding in the face of the unexpected affection. But then, ever so slowly, he leaned into you, his head coming to rest on your shoulder.

"You're not just Batman, Bruce," you whispered, your breath tickling the skin beneath his ear. "You're a father, a husband, a man with a heart so big it's a wonder it fits in that chest of yours." your felt his come under your arm and land on the your higher back, his grip firm but gentle.

"I know," he murmured, his voice muffled by the material of your shirt. "But sometimes, it's easier to hide behind the mask."

You pulled back to look into his eyes, your own filled with understanding and warmth. "I know it is, love," you said, your thumb brushing the edge of the mask. "But you don't have to hide from me. I see you, all of you. The good, the bad, and yes, even the 'cute'."

Bruce's gaze searched yours for any trace of doubt, finding only sincerity. He took a deep breath and reached up to remove the cowl, revealing his weary but handsome face. The mask came off with a soft whoosh, and for a moment, the room felt lighter, as if a burden had been lifted. Your eyes never left his, your smile gentle and accepting.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice filled with a warmth that seemed to envelop him. "With my whole heart."

Bruce felt something shift inside of him, a weight he didn't even realize he'd been carrying lifted. He leaned in and kissed you, the kiss soft and lingering, filled with a depth of feeling that the Batman persona could never convey. When he pulled back, he was smiling, a real smile that reached his eyes.

"Thank you," he said, his voice rough with emotion, "for not being scared of me."

You leaned into him, your forehead pressing against his, "I could never be scared of you, Bruce," you whispered. "No matter how hard you try."

[earthtooz]

x : CHANGE YOUR MIND ! :*+ﾟ

in which: it's 2 am and itoshi sae is outside your door, hoping for a second chance.

warnings: 1.2k words, angst to fluff with hurt/comfort, happy ending, exes to lovers, not at all realistic but it's itoshi sae ok and we're delusional, ooc!sae

a/n: second second chance romance fic for sae LOL he's just too easy to write for when it comes to exes to lovers. idk why the banner is so low quality but enjoy!

you wonder where itoshi sae finds the nerve. after breaking up with you six months ago ‘for the sake of his career’, you never thought sae would have the gall to show up at your apartment, let alone at 2am, rudely disrupting your sleep.

yet, here he is. a soccer prodigy and superstar in the flesh, standing under the harsh lighting of your apartment hallway that always casts an ugly glow on everyone except sae.

“what are you doing here?” you ask, gripping the door handle a little tighter.

“i just got off the plane,” he answers, evading your question. 

“i know. i can see your suitcases.”

he doesn’t say anything more after that. before the breakup, you were able to read the untouchable itoshi sae, translating his stiff silences into words he could never say but wholeheartedly mean, breaking through his ego to then understand the messages of his heart. he only hopes that you can interpret the one he’s brought to you right now.

“can i come in?” asks the athlete, his question shy and lacking the usual demand that sits in his tone.

still, you furrow your eyebrows and stand your ground. “why on earth would i let you in?”

softness is a weapon that itoshi sae owns. he knows that with his typical hardened exterior the best way he can get through people sometimes is with pliability. even you have fallen for it.

he frowns, “because i’m tired and i want to sleep.”

“don’t you have your own five star hotel that your manager booked for you?” 

“can i just come in?”

the nerve. “itoshi, please leave.”

“i will, i will, but will you hear me out first?”

“what could you possibly have to say that you didn’t befo-”

“-i love you.”

the world stills.

the air around you becomes delicate and you’re too scared to breathe in fear of disrupting the silence, but it feels like the floor beneath you just crumbled and you’re falling through the debris. you’re falling and the only thing you can do is search for sae in the chaos. 

but you don’t hold on to him. no, not this time.

“that’s not fair, that’s not fair at all, sae, you can’t-” a sob tears your words apart, “-you can’t break my heart then come back six months later to tell me that you apparently love me, do you know how hard it was for me to just- ugh!”

in a fit of exasperation, you leave your post at the door and retreat back into your apartment. sae quietly slips through the crack you left open, closing the door with a soft click and you don’t even have the energy to chase him out. he even left his suitcases outside- not that anyone would take them at 4 in the morning. 

“you left me so abruptly and carelessly. we were together for almost a year, sae, yet you threw me aside, called me a burden and moved on with a snap of your fingers! was it easy? moving on like that?” 

instead of flinching at your yelling, sae simply stands at the entrance and accepts it, letting your words prick his skin and sink into him as if would make up for the pain you’ve been bathing in. 

“do you know what that did to me?” your voice is quiet now, turned down a few notches. 

he knows. he knows that you’ve been trying to get over it and not let the breakup impact your life too much, despite what he did. you’ve been going out with friends, treating yourself to everything you deserve, and finding a peace that he’s proud of you for. but sae also knows about the many nights you’ve spent crying and being sensitive to loving again, he hears about all of it from rin who lectured him when he first broke up with you and most likely, will lecture him again when he hears about sae’s unplanned visit.

sae was stupid and naive, but you were the first person he ever loved, and the world is colourless without your splash of influence. 

sae knows he shouldn’t be here existing in your space after everything, however, the instant he stepped off the plane, the first thing his heart wanted was to see one of the few things he loves about japan, you. 

“-so, please, just leave me alone and don’t come back,” you request.

the last thing sae is good at is following instructions, especially ones he doesn’t like.

“but, i love you,” he tries again. you fall to the couch with a defeated sigh, his persistence impaling your heart. 

“stop it.”

somehow, he’s now standing beside you. “do you still love me too?”

“sae-”

“-if you don’t love me anymore i’ll leave.”

with your head in your hands, you lie to him, “i don’t want you to stay either way.”

“another chance, i’ll make it right, i’ll fix it with my life, y/n, just please say you love me too.” 

“you’ll hurt me again.”

“i won’t,” he falls down onto the couch beside you, enveloping you with his frame. “i’ll be good and you can kill me if i’m not.”

you laugh. it’s dry and reserved, but you’re laughing and he begins rocking you side to side. “i don’t want to kill you.”

“rin will, then.”

you take your face out of your hands, looking at him properly for the first time since he arrived. “i-i don’t know, sae. you’ll leave again when you decide that you don’t want me.”

he doesn’t know how to tell you that whilst abroad, all he could think about was you. that during the mundane chores, the tedious trips to and from training, and all the times that he had won a match, he was thinking about you. 

he thought about you in the music he played whilst cleaning, he thought about taking you to a restaurant he saw whilst on the way, and his thoughts about you are loudest when he has a medal around his neck yet all he wants to know is whether or not you’re watching.

but you’re not beside him singing along whilst he was mopping his floors, you weren’t there in his car pointing out every fun detail you saw, and he didn’t even know if you wanted anything to do with soccer after what him. 

everytime, the yearning for you would grow, to the point that it lead him here when he should have gone to the hotel to wash up and sleep off the tiring trip instead.

but sitting here now and looking at your tear-stained face, he knows he’ll always prefer you- he’ll always find and choose you, so long as you let him. 

“give me another chance,” and i’ll show you that i’ll never leave again.

“fine,” you surrender after a moment of silence and sae feels like he could jump to the moon. “but we take things slow-”

“-i love you,” he repeats, grabbing your face and pushing you down on the couch, peppering an endless stream of kisses on your skin. sae’s outburst of affection and happiness is uncharacteristic but contagious. “i love you, i love you, i love you.”

between each declaration is sae kissing a new part of your face, showering your cheeks, forehead, nose- everywhere with unbridled adoration that he has been keeping locked up for too long. you’re real between his hands, you’re real in his hold, you’re real beneath him, and he doesn’t want this dream to end. his kisses feel like healing promises and you melt right into them. 

“i get it!” you giggle out, hands on his shoulders as to wrestle him off. “you don’t need to keep telling me, and promise me that we’re going to take it slow-”

a cold tear slides down your cheek, silencing your giggles. it’s not you who’s crying though, so you hug sae a little tighter.

something tells you that this second chance won’t backfire.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[max-nico]

Sonic is feeling abnormally sentimental, everyone around him thinks it's warranted, but it doesn't stop the fact that he feels like he could burst into tears any moment. Gosh, he's just so proud. He essentially raised this kid from a toddler to almost an adult, because he's only sixteen, but still! That's his baby brother!

His baby brother who is doing an amazing job, giving his amazing speech, at this amazing venue. He's gotten tall, his tails are thick and bushy, and he looks so confident. Sonic knew he would see that day Tails could stand on his own, from the moment he took the little fox in, he knew.

And the kid looks all grown up in his brown suit, he's wearing pants and everything! If Sonic was a lesser hedgehog, he'd be a blubbering mess of tears right now. Watching his little buddy be presented with an incredibly prestigious scientific award, that Sonic doesn't fully understand in all honesty, has his heart squeezing in so many emotions he's getting overwhelmed. He's big enough to admit that there are bittersweet feelings tied up in all his big brother pride.

"Euhg, you reek of ego." Knuckles says, walking up to Sonic.

"Can you blame me? I raised that kid."

"Barely."

Sonic rolls his eyes, leaning against the stage walls. He's unperturbed by the echidna's rudeness. Some people never change. Though, if anyone should stay the same it's Knuckles, not that Sonic would ever tell him that.

"How'd you even get back here?"

"Your lowly guards are no match for a warrior." Knuckles puffs his chest out, like beating up poor unsuspecting security workers is a flex. "They could not stop me from congratulating Tails after his acceptance speech... Also, Amy's going to be late and she wanted me to make sure I give Tails a bouquet of flowers."

"And we all know how Amy gets about her flowers." The two say in sync, matching smiles on their faces.

Amy opened a flower shop a few years ago, a business that she and Vanilla are teaching Cream how to run. It's sweet, and her own opinion, what gift shows love better than a bouquet. Sonic would argue that a good chilli dog beats flowers any day, but Amy also says he has no taste, so truly, what does he know.

The two lapse into silence as they listen to Tails talk. He answers questions fluidly, with a charismatic ease you could only get from spending time with Sonic the Hedgehog. Even rude comments from the audience are taken in stride and spun in his favor. Geez, maybe Sonic should've taken those PR classes with Tails a few years ago, the kid is much smoother than him when it comes to the media.

It feels like no time at all as well as a hundred years have passed by the time closing statements are being given. The crowd has begun to get antsy as well, the energy shifting as the award ceremony comes to an end. Not without Tails giving a concluding speech obviously, because his little brother has officially cemented himself in history, and is very clearly the most important person here.

"And of course, I would like to thank my older brother, Sonic The Hedgehog!" Tails gestures to backstage, and the crowd goes wild at just the mention of Sonic's name. "I know right. The guy who's devoted his life to saving the world is the same guy who raised me, sometimes I still have a hard time believing it myself!" He chuckles. "That is, until I remember he's also the same guy who refused to eat vegetables until I was old enough to start hiding them in his chilli dogs."

The joke got the crowd to laugh, and Sonic promises that's the only reason why he doesn't go out there and set the record straight. Because first of all, he didn't refuse, he just never felt like making a second serving! Tails got his vegetables and that's what mattered! Some brother he is, lying on Sonic's name like that.

"I would like to thank the rest of my family as well! They're your heroes, but they're the ones who gave me the confidence to do anything even close to this! I don't know where I would be without them so I kinda think this award belongs to them too... Still going to my trophy shelf though, they can get their own."

There's another laugh from the crowd, and a little tear wiped from Knuckles' eye. Sonic isn't doing much better beside him, the hedgehog is holding it together as well as straw holds up a house. Hell, Sonic barely listens to the rest of the speech, too focused on keeping it together until his little brother comes off stage.

All too soon there's clapping and cheering from the crowd, and Tails is beelining towards them. The curtains are coming down, blocking the stage lights, and within moments the fox's mic is removed and his blazer is thrown to the floor. None of them have ever been much for the restriction of formal clothing, Tails being no exception.

"Did I do good?" He asks. Sonic's heart clenches at how deep it's gotten. "Gosh, I was so nervous."

"You did very well." Knuckles scoops up Tails from behind, giving him a good noogie and messing up his tamed fur. "Couldn't have done it better myself."

The fox beams at the praise. For a moment, all Sonic can see is that little 8 year old smiling at him like he's the only good thing in the world. That same sweetly sharp grin, packed to the brim in naivety, but obvious intelligence below the surface. He's trying so hard not to get all mushy, Tails will make fun of him if he does. Hmm, he wonders where Tails gets that from.

"You did great, little brother! I told you that you could do it, and look, you got that fancy medal and everything just to prove it."

Tails flushes as Sonic pulls him in for a hug. He's a little taller than Sonic now, and the thought makes the hedgehog slightly nauseous... When did that happen?

"I dunno about little, I think you're more deserving of that title now!"

"As if!"

Now it's Sonic's turn to noogie the fox, much to his chagrin.

"You may be getting tall, but you'll always be my baby!" Sonic says obnoxiously.

"Ew, you're being so gross right now."

"C'mon keed, can't take a little affection from your big bro?"

"Not when you're acting like this, and stop calling me that, you weirdo!"

Sonic and Knuckles laugh at Tails playful disdain.

Hopefully he knows how proud they both are of him, Knuckles might beat it into the fox if he doesn't. Not even Sonic can save him from that fate.

Yeah I'm gonna participate in whumptober I said. WRONG !! WHOLESOME WEDNESDAY ATTACK 🌈🩷🫶🏾

I've had this fic in my drafts for ages, please take it away and treat it with care lol, it's been waiting so long for me to finish it

Also, someone give me an idea for a lil fic to write for Tails birthday !! I could just do the whumptober prompt but if anyone has any better ideas, I'm all ears !!

My askbox is always open !! Come yap to me !! Let's be friends !! @max-nicoxfandom is my general fandom blog if you're interested 🩷🩷

[forzalando]

🎶 + Charles 🥺 (ily)

What If You Change? - The Wldlfe (1.2k, slight angst/fluff, 18+)

Light streamed through gaps in the curtains - the beginning of the day’s sunrise casting a soft and gentle glow over Charles. 

You’d been awake for hours at this point, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest and gently tracing the sharp lines of his nose and jaw with your eyes. You wouldn’t dare touch him, wouldn’t dare to wake him from peaceful slumber despite your urge to caress every inch of him.

With each passing hour you grew more uneasy, more certain of the impending doom that had been on your mind since last night. It had been a perfect evening - dinner, dessert, dancing (awful dancing, but dancing nonetheless), candles, rose petals, mind-blowingly amazing sex that left you sore and speechless. 

It was beyond perfect, too perfect, and that yanked you suddenly and sharply out of the fantasy world that you’d been living in for the past two years. It wasn’t just the relationship that was perfect, it was undoubtedly Charles too. The kindest man you’ve ever known, the purest soul, he treated you like you were the most important thing in the world to him. Until the day you met him, you didn’t know it was even possible to love someone so much, because no one has ever made you feel the way he does.

It wasn’t an insecurity but rather the curse of overthinking, and no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t help but think that all of this would eventually come to an end. 

You’ve lived long enough to know that no matter how good something is, sometimes it leaves, walks away, ends, departs, doesn’t last forever, however you'd prefer to say it, even though you desperately want it to. And with Charles - losing forever with him just wasn’t an option. 

He’d never given you any reason to feel this way, had said himself many times that you were his forever, the love of his life, l’amour de ma vie. He’d said it just last night, his green eyes fixed onto your gaze as his hips rocked into yours. And, oh, you believed him wholeheartedly. Every murmured token of affection chased by heated kisses or the flick of his tongue, it was immortalized into your very soul. 

But, people change their minds, and that’s the paralyzing thought that has kept you from rest. 

Another half hour must have passed before Charles began to stir, stretching his arms up to the sky and then curling his body so that he was practically on top of you.

“How long have you been awake?” He hummed, nuzzling his nose against your neck and intertwining your legs. Your heart ached in your chest. 

“A few hours,” you whispered. “I watched the sunrise and you looked so beautiful in the morning light I just couldn’t look away.” 

“Well, then, we must stay in bed so you can get more rest. Do you want me to play with your hair? That always makes you sleepy.”

“Charles, you have so much to do today, that’s not fair. I’m fine, I promise.”

You smiled at him, your best attempt at one anyway, and prayed that his vision was still slightly blurry from sleep so he wouldn’t notice it was off. Unfortunately for you, Charles was perfectly observant and attuned to the emotions of those closest to him.

“You are not fine, what’s wrong, mon coeur?” The concern in his voice and sincerity in his eyes, life and conversation was always a safe space with Charles. There was a freedom to speak your mind and be honest in a way that you’d never shared with anyone before. 

You sat up slowly, wrapping your arms around your knees and exhaling a few times before answering his question. 

“I’m just worried that you’ll change your mind about me one day.” 

And there it was - out in the open, lingering in the air, an admission that was a natural fear and occurrence for an over-thinker such as yourself. Charles, however, was horrified at how casually you spoke, fearful that he hadn’t done enough to assure you that to him, forever with you was just as sure as the sun rising each morning and setting each night. 

“My love, that will never happen,” he whispered, rising to sit up with you and pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “I meant every word I said last night.” He reached desperately for your hand, delicately stroking his thumb along your ring finger that carried new weight. In the excitement of the night before, and because of Charles’s insistence that you wear it while he made love to you, you’d forgotten to take it off before falling into your short, restless sleep.

You flexed your hand out in front of you, frowning at the diamond that wasn’t there the last time you’d woken up in the morning, the thing that spurred this spiral. It was perfect, beautiful, just as lovely as the man who got down on one knee just 12 hours ago and slid it onto your finger. 

“You look upset looking at it. Do you…regret saying yes?” He whispered softly, you’d never heard his voice so quiet.

“Absolutely not,” you affirmed. “I just don’t want you to wake up one day and regret asking. It’s not impossible, and thinking about how…inexplicably happy I am, how I couldn’t have even dreamed a life as beautiful as this, I just got in my own head a bit. A lot. And once I started, I couldn’t stop.” 

“I feel like that sometimes too, you know,” he smiled. “I can’t believe that I am so lucky that out of everyone in the world, I am the one you love. I worry that one day you’ll realize you’re far too good for me.” 

You opened your mouth to object, you could never, that’s absurd, he was made perfectly for you, but he silenced you quickly with his lips. Breathing him in, feeling the taught muscles of his back flex as you rubbed your hand up and down. It was electric, soothing, and euphoric all at once - indescribable, celestial.

“When I feel that way,” he murmured against your lips, “I remember this feeling. How every touch, every kiss, every moment with you feels like coming home. And I know that you love me just as much as I love you.”  

“You’re such a smooth talker, Leclerc,” you giggled, rubbing the tip of your nose against his. 

“Exactly, that’s how we’ve gotten this far, no? I sweet talk you into dating me, into my bed, into being my girlfriend, and now into being my fiancée.”

He smiled brightly at you - his eyes gleaming in the morning light and quelling any fears still lingering in your mind. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. “For everything, always.” 

“There’s no need to thank me, but you can lay down and go back to sleep with me,” he said as he pulled you into him and under the blankets. “You’re grumpy when you’re tired.” 

“Grumpy enough to scare you off?” You teased, yawning deeply as his fingers threaded through your hair and the warmth of his body eased all the tension you’d been holding in yours.  

“Never.”

[seirindono]

TMS - Author's note (Arc 1)

Today I'm stepping up to talk about TMS for a while. It's going to be a lot of blah blah, no TLDR, so hang in there or save it for later if you're brave enough, haha (¯▿¯)

So, another chapter of TMS draws to a close, with the difference that this time it's a whole saga that's coming to an end! That's a big relief for me, given that we recently celebrated the comic's 4th anniversary! That's almost the entire duration of my college life, and that's both an impressive and terrifying achievement lol.

The comic is divided into 3 arcs, each separated by an interlude. The first runs from part 1 to 8, with 201 pages total (wow!). In it, you are introduced to Mel, a young skeleton with a rather unclear past, who accidentally arrives in a a foreign timeline, along with other well known skeletons. Nowadays it's just an isekai haha. Throughout the arc, she proves to be a cautious Monster, quiet and somewhat withdrawn compared to the other skeletons we come across, notably Rus, Blue and Axe, who each got their own sequences.

Still, Mel in the last few scenes is starting to show more initiative, and the interlude will make this even more obvious, but we can expect her to open up a lot more during the next Arc, about her past, motives, goals and thoughts.

I could go on at length about what's in store for us in the interlude, but given that it's due for release sometime in 2024, I'm going to talk about the general story line instead. Although we follow Mel who is foreign to what's going on in this universe prior to her arrival, the other characters and events suggest that strange phenomena are taking place in Ebott, leading many people to become embroiled in a highly unusual affair. Crossing timelines, earthquakes, mysterious apparitions in the forest, something is afoot and the situation seems to be at a turning point when Mellow gets here.

Everyone has their own way of dealing with the situation and what to do next. Some are serious and pragmatic, like Black, others optimistic, like Blue, and others, like Papyrus, find themselves completely backed into a corner, forced to do their best to fix whatever needs to be.

A special case, however, is Axe, whom Mel meets in the forest as she investigates Mt. Ebott. The two have diametrically opposed views of their current condition. One wants to return to her world by any means necessary, regardless of the advantages of a peaceful world. The other, not so much. Both refuse to talk about their past and ignore the other's circumstances, but a sense of familiarity drives them to try to convince the other to stay or go. These are two stark positions to reconcile, and while we can expect Blue and the other skeletons to have their own views on the subject too, Mel and Axe are strangely "committed" in this interraction and resort to violence, spurred on by a unknown substance that causes Axe to momentarily lose control.

Mel is wounded, Axe unconscious, and the status quo disrupted. Other consequences follow this confrontation, and several questions are raised: Can Blue really help Mel when Axe accuses him of having already given up on going home himself? What is this mysterious entity Axe came across a few days earlier? The vibrations? What was that substance that made him go berserk? And what made him stop? Can we trust Mel and what she tells us? And many others.

Because as I'm sure many of you have come to realize, Mel has proven to be a rather unreliable narrator (or at least character since you don't follow her actual POV). Blatantly lying or omitting facts to others and readers alike, it's hard to know her next move and whether she's genuinely forgotten important infos (for it's well established at this stage that she has hazy memories and that they continue to deteriorate. The same applies to her health).

In the same way, each part of TMS so far has raised more questions than it has answered, but I can confidently say that the road is paved for Arc 2 to answer and put in perspective most of them, ahah.

Ah, this is also the moment when I can announce that ALL skeletons will be featured in the Interlude. Should be. Hopefully.

I'd also like to point out a few narrative changes for Act 2! The central characters, in particular. Original cast characters such as Undyne, Metatton and a veiled character will be more formally introduced, but we'll also meet up with characters we've already bumped into, but in a much more concrete way, such as Frisk and Alphys. I can't wait for you to get to know them! You can also expect more pov changes, more elipses and so on. Things are moving fast.

But that begs the question. When is it due? As said before, the first Arc lasted 4 years and I'm entering my last (and most crucial) year of college. I still don't know if I'll have time to get much of it done in 2025, but on the other hand, I'd like to strike while the iron's hot lest TMS be discontinued after a 1-year hiatus and my entry into the working world. Student loan, life and all. There are still plenty of things I'd like to bring to this project, and I now have the skills to actually carry them out, but on the other hand, the time involved has also increased exponentially.

Tbh with you, as an animation student, it's been one of my dreams since 2020 to do one of TMS's sequences in animatic or full anim, or even a trailer for the comic! But as a solo team, it's just unreasonable and I know it. But the parasite ----. Don't get me wrong, I could, but it would take me months and it's just not realistic when 80% of my time has to go into professionnal work that goes into my portefolio or adult stuff. I can't affort to invest time in solo-ing it or to recruit and lead a team over one side project of mine ( ´ ▿ ` ) So we'll most likely stick to classic pages.

But the same goes for collabs, community events, side stories, asks, edits, dubs, testing other platforms, regular animatics. Love all of that. Really. But I never have the time to because, man, I'd love to actually finish TMS someday ahah. It all comes back to the age-old problem of “lots of ideas, little time”, and it's so frustrating but, it's a choice I have to stick to, so bear with me as I vent my frustration. Just for tonight (´ ∀ `, *)

So, yes. Act 2. Next year? Probably? It's a long interlude, so you'll get smth in the meantime, but it's likely to decide the future of TMS and whether Act 2 sees the light of day as I imagine it or if...well, something else replaces it.

bringing back this doodle cuz it seems fiting lol

Anyway, I also wanted to thank you for your engagement with Part 8!

I don't know how other comic artists experience it, but for me it's a very isolated work, and as much as I love working alone, I enjoy the interaction with readers most of all.

Seeing people losing their mind over a serious scene, or chuckling at a dumb gag, or just simping over the characters and art. It's just great, and very rewarding. Likewise, I have a blast answering questions about the TMS universe, reading tags and receiving memes, witnessing people go increasingly mad with messages full of indecipherable screams and hearts. Makes me giggle and kick my feet everytime and I can't wait to drop the next lore bomb or funny scene bwahahah

And while we're on the subject, I'd like to say a special word of thanks to the legions of rebloggers who make it their business to spread the word about TMS. You sweet, lovely, candy scented folks. And to my dear mutuals - with whom I interact objectively so little - who have no idea how a single message or note from them drives me bonkers. Thanks for dropping by. And of course to my super Patreons who support me despite the sparse updates, but to whom I'm more than grateful. Love you all.

Sounds like a farewell message. It's not lol. Just making sure they get the love they deserve.

The post is getting long and I'm kind of done pretending I know how to write organized notes so to wrap things up, here's an exhaustive list of what I'd like to get done this year and/or discuss in more detail another day. •Make a new masterpost (for Act 2) •Analyze/Comment certain sequences from Act 1 to clarify or give context •Redraw and rewrite part 1 and 2 •Make more bonus content again *ahahahahahaha*

•Re open or close the Discord (partially abandoned and it's all on me, but I'm still mulling it over).

•Finish the Interlude and enjoy and nice hiatus

And that's about it? Congratulation for reading this and making it this far! You were there!

Be well, and see you next time.

Seirin-

First part | Prev | Next (INTERLUDE)

Ko-fi | Patreon | Comic | Commissions  | To support the comic

[slxtarchive]

𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞 ✦ 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐡

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. where sam was there to help y/n when she had a rough day and resorted to unwinding in a not-so-healthy way.

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭. okay so i was just thinking for a sam golbach fic reader relapses (self harm) cuz their mind has been getting too much lately, and maybe sam helps them clean up and then helps take care of them and makes them feel loved nd just like lets them know that they don't need to do that because he's there from now on?? if that makes sense. also maybe not an established romantic relationship but maybe it ends up that way? like sam tells reader he doesn't know what he'd do with himself if anything happened to them he just cares a lot about them and yeah

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. ANGST ! third person pov, talks of self harm, relapsing, descriptive literature, friend!sam, friends to lovers.

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬. if anybody needs anyone to talk to i’m here! 🤍 sorry this took so long to post & write! this one hit really personal for me but id okay to say ive healed & im continuing to heal from my past. if anyone is going through similar hardships, you can get through it! i believe, love, & support you always.

y/n told herself she wouldn’t put herself in this position again. she wouldn’t.. but sometimes things don’t go as planned.

she had tried to stay strong, to stop letting her mind control every action she took; it just became too much. she sat on the cold tile floor of her bathroom, tears making their way down her flushed face. she gripped the item as she took the first swipe, lightly but firm enough.

just stop. she told herself. her hand shook as she went to repeat the action. she looked at her skin i just need to feel something, she thought. something other than what im feeling now.

she had been doing so good but somehow found herself back at square one. all that work that she had done was all gone. she felt hopeless, as if this never ending black hole of despair would stay with her for the rest of her life.

she took a minute to think on her life and what could have went wrong to cause her to relapse. all those thoughts had no specific effect on relapsing, its just her brain had begun to spin a web that caused her to get stuck in her head all day. what else can i do? she thought as she took another swipe at her skin. she planned on continuing until she heard her bedroom door open.

her heart dropped to her ass. “y/n..?” the voice had confusion laced in their voice.

sam.

it was sam.

the blonde boy was one of the things that y/n had in her life that truly made her happy. he was her best friend. she never told him that but she truly meant that with every fiber of her being.

y/n quickly wiped her tears when she heard the footsteps come closer to the bathroom. wiping the tears would make the tear stains disappear but the thing about breaking down, you’re left with that struggle of trying to catch your breath.

she couldn’t stop gasping, trying to breathe calm and collectively. that’s why as sam stopped right beside the bathroom. he heard a small gasp escape her lips that caught his attention.

his eyebrows raised in confusion. he put his head beside the door trying to hear something else. “uh.. y/n? you in there?” he knocked. he received no answer. multiple questions and thoughts ran through his mind before he opened the door.

sam had seen many things in his life, traumatic even, but this — it was like his heart had jumped, dropped, did a tumble, and self destructed all in the span of 3 seconds. he instantly became nauseous at the sight of y/n holding a blade to her forearm. the small cuts that had caught his eye before she covered her arm and hid the blade had his blood run cold.!

the second y/n had been caught she felt guilty and embarrassed. she felt pathetic, like she wasn’t strong enough to handle the hard reality of the real world. immediately, she stood up and faced sam. “i-im sorry you weren’t supposed to see that.. it’s not what it looks like.” she sniffled trying to contain her tears. “i… it just, lately everything has been so crazy and i haven’t … i haven’t done this in a while but… but everything has just been… too much.” she rambled out, trying to explain herself.

sam’s face of confusion faltered. he thought about her words. the way she mentioned in a while had him wondering what caused her to relapse and fall back into this situation. he scanned her face. she’s too pure to be suffering like this. he paused thinking of what to say but truly all that he wanted to do was give her a hug. so that’s what he did.

he pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her protectively. she melted into his touch. her lip quivered as she wrapped her own arms around him. her body shook as more tears cascaded down her face.

sam felt his own eyes sting with tears. “i’m sorry.” he choked up. “i’m sorry you’ve been going through all of this alone.” he rested his cheek on her head closing his eyes trying to stay strong for her.

y/n hasn’t said anything, still feeling guilty. sam pulled away and looked down at the floor seeing the blade and a tissue beside it. he picked them up and threw both away.

he turned back to y/n who had a tired look on her face. “as long as i’m here nothing will hurt you, okay? i will be here for you. you can depend on me. you don’t need to do this anymore to yourself y/n, i won’t let you.” he took her face into his hands. “i promise, i love you and im always here for you no matter what.”

y/n’s heart raced as sam’s words really effected her. she nodded pursing her lips and biting her cheek.

he brought her head to his mouth and pressed a light kiss on her forehead. “i mean it y/n. i don’t know what i’d do with myself without you. you complete me.”

y/n’s eyes scanned sam’s face noticing how his own eyes began to water and become puffy. the scene before her causing her throat to close. “m’sorry i promise i wont do it anymore. i love you sam and… fuck — i know i shouldn’t be doing that. i just didn’t know what else to do.” she leaned against his chest.

“i know, i know baby but from now on you can talk to me about it. about anything. i care so much about you. you truly have no idea how much i…” he stopped himself not wanting to overwhelm her. “just know you mean the world to me. you are and have been my priority since we met and that’s never going to change.” the reassuring words causing y/n to relax.

y/n started to get inside her head, wondering what if he got tired of her, if he’d leave her, what she’d do or how she’d feel if that happened — or even worse; if she would be a burden to sam.

sam noticed y/n zoning out. “hey, tell me what you’re thinking please.” his hands reached down to grab her own.

she took a deep breath. c’mon y/n. she blinked a couple times trying to sort her thoughts. “don’t wanna be a burden to you.” she admitted to which sam immediately shook his head.

sam brought her hands to his mouth kissing her knuckles. “you could never ever be a burden to me. you keep me pushing through every day because i want to be the best for you. to be the best friend you deserve and… and whatever the future may hold for us — i want you there always, okay? don’t ever forget that.”

his words wavered through the air and stood there so you could process what he truly meant. you thought on it, picking up some hidden message that you’d both communicate about later but as of now, he truly helped you feel understood and seen. as long as you had him you’d feel physically, mentally, and emotionally secure and protected.

© slxtarchive

[keen-li]

"IT JUST SLIPPED"

Today you had to shoot a cooking talk show like video for your YouTube channel. You were so excited and happy cause you had two special guests. Bangchan and felix.

You had a hard time sleeping cause you were so nervous today. And as you walk through the studio towards the set up kitchen you get even more nervous.

"Have they arrived?" You ask your assistant as she walks beside you.

"Yes they just got in" as she says that the nervousness sinks in more.

Its the first time you and any straykids members are filming something together, you have many reasons to be nervous but the main reason is you're afraid you might slip up. Slip up? Yeah you're afraid you might accidentally call chan 'baby' like you always do when you're with him. But most of the time when you're with him it's not infront of large lights and cameras.

Nobody knows that you two have been dating, not your companies, not your crew, not even you're assistant, it's still kinda new so you wanna keep it low. The only people who know you and chan are dating are his members. Who said they found out when they all "accidentally" saw you and chan's chats. The defenders were han and Lee know, when you saw those two open there mouths to defend you knew it was bullshit. Who accidentally reads three months worth of conversations in front of others accidentally.

You were kinda mad and embarrassed that they read your messages cause you and chan had some spicy texts and pictures in there. But chan promised to talk to them and keep his phone better which made you feel better.

And it seemed like chan's talk did work on them, cause they never brought up any of the messages or made any silly joke about it. They only congratulated you and made you feel comfortable.

You see the familiar figure of your boyfriend and his bandmate walk in straight to you. You and chan give eachother smiles hoping no one noticed cause you and him need to keep this a secret.

When they approach you, felix first, you share greetings and give eachother hugs. When chan hugs you he tries to not make it obvious by placing his hand a little lower on your back.

"I missed you" he whispers into your ear and you feel the heat consume you.

"Shut up were supposed to be undercover" you joke.

"But I missed you too" you confess still in a whisper.

You two missed each other like you didn't text and facetime everyday when you can.

He walks by you as he greets the crew.

After sometime and getting things ready it's time to film.

Since its your youtube channel and show you have to be the one to introduce them.

"So today we're gonna do a little cook and chat" you begin to say to the camera.

"But before we do I wanna introduce you to two people" you give a look to chan and felix as they take it as a sign to get into frame. They give their biggest smiles to the camera as they bow to it and to you which you return as well.

They give their intros and you smile at them as they express how they're happy to be here and how much they've always wanted to be on your show. It makes you blush but it's not like you didn't know. One of the reasons this filming idea came up was because chan expressed to you how much you he wanted to be on your show. And after both of your companies accepted, the date was set.

You and the boys laugh as you answer some funny questions and chop up some food. One of the questions led to chan having to tell an embarrassing story which makes everyone in the studio laugh. You also end up telling a story and chan can't help but watch as you smile and giggle when you tell the story.

He always loved hearing you talk and express yourself, it's one of his favourite things about you. Feeling his loving gaze on you, you glance at him and warn him making him look away and focus on washing the lettuce.

You're cutting some cucumber when it slips from the grip of the knife and cuts you a bit.

You hiss catching everyone's attention. Chan looks at you worried as he watched you rush to the sink. It kills him how he can't just run over to you and care for your wound just because people might find out.

"I'm good guys" you say but it doesn't help lighten chan's heart.

Felix notices his uneasiness and taps him on the back. "She's okay bro relax" he doesn't pay much attention to that as he watches a staff wrap your finger with a bandaid.

After you get back you grab a new knife and new cucumber as chan stares at you still uneasy.

"I'm okay chan" you smile at him and he feels a little more relieved when you say it directly to him, maybe it's your smile that comforts him. But he still wishes he had been the one to help you.

You continue to shoot the video as chan takes over the cutting duty and puts you in egg boiling duty. Which you rolled your eyes at. He's so protective, as if you couldn't burn yourself with hot water.

After you're done with the shooting, chan approaches you.

"Let me see your hand" he grabs your hand not even letting you choose whether or not he can see your hand. But you let him cause he's just trying to be caring.

"Are you okay?" It's a question he keeps asking you and you don't know if you wanna answer him again.

"I'm fine chan, now let go of my hand before someone sees us." He doesn't take heed to your words and continues to examine your finger touching I lightly which you find comforting.

"You don't look fine. Want me to give you a hug?" He says slowly moving into you. If no one has noticed the two of you someone's gonna notice now. You try and push him away giggling at his words, you really don't want your cover blown but chan doesn't seem to care. He doesn't care actually.

"Baby I'm okay" you say a little louder than you expected. You immediately move away from chan and stare at the people now staring at you. If the company hears about this you're screwed.

"I meant chan" you laugh awkwardly.

"It just slipped" you try and assure the people around you. You know they couldn't care less but you'd never know who'd be a snitch.

"I call everyone baby anyways" chan laughs as you try to convince yourself.

It's no use they heard you clearly.

.....

Its been been seven days since your cooking episode with chan and felix aired. And you heard some rumours and theories going around on the Internet.

So you decided to check on the comments yourself.

Chan giving y/n those loving eyes

I want someone to look at me like the way chan's looking at her

If these two aren't dating I'm gonna take y/n

These two gotta be dating look at the way he's looking at her.

I can feel the tension between them

The chemistry between these two.

Kiss already

You didn't realise the tension between you and chan was so obvious. Maybe it's the way you spoke and looked at eachother. And after watching the video for yourself you can definitely see it.

"Our love can't be hidden" chan said when you brought the issue to him. You laughed, he doesn't take this seriously huh?

[d34dlysinner]

Back at it again with my war crimes shenanigans.

Kings + Lucifer (n anyone else who'd fit, not sure) with a MC who's lacking several braincells despite being a rather smart person. The type who'd touch a burning stove out of pure curiosity, or put tide pods in a microwave to see the reaction. Empty headed but not lacking intelligence it's just gotta be coaxed strangled out. They get themself into some serious ahh danger due to head empty y'know the usual 'I fucked around and now I'm finding out but hey, MY CURIOSITY IS SATIATED' cliché lmaoooo.

Oml, thanks for the ask😭 (minor spoilers chapter 4 ending)

Minors DNI

You were messing around on the streets when you heard someone call out your name. You looked up in the direction of voice and saw an angel smiling down at you. Not the kind smile of course. It was one of those sadistic smiles that said: "I'll actually blow up in a second and you'll die with me."

You normally would run around trying to avoid the angel, but for some reason your brain couldn't register that you're in danger. In fact, you were even more curious what angel blood (of an angel weaker than a seraph) would do.

So all you did was stand and watch up with a calm expression present on your features.

Satan ran up to you and pulled you away and ran with you through some alleys in Gehenna where he knew it'll be hard for angels to fly in.

He looked down at your panting frame and checked if you were alright.

"We're you frozen in fear or just curious to see what would happen?", he asked as he remembers how you stood there without any fear present on your face. When you didn't give him an answer and looked down he knew it was the latter option to his question.

"You made a promise to help us in Hell... You should keep it. Sitri, for now you shall stick to MC's side until she's out of this... curious mindset.", Satan said to Sitri who just made his way over to where you two were.

He wasn't going to scold you, but he needed you to be careful.

Mammon made hands rise up from the floor to shield you from the angel. Those golden hands shielded your entire frame, only disappearing a few seconds after the explosion.

When the hands opened up, you saw the normal blue sky and the red painted ground around you. You made your way over to Mammon and were dragged into a big hug.

"Master... I don't know why you just stood there, but don't do that again."

You felt a bit guilty because of how worried he became. You wanted to apologise, bit were interrupted by Bimet scolding you.

"How could you make his majesty so worried. How could you just stand there without even a reaction of fear in your face. You should be grateful that his Majesty blocked the blast.", the ginger demon rambled on.

He was only stopped when Mammon told him that he scolded you enough.

Beelzebub somehow got you away from that blast. You didn't really know what happened because it went by so fast.

"You should try and fight back or run whenever there's an angel.", Beelzebub said.

He wasn't scolding you, but he did think that it would've been a waste if a snack like you did something like this.

"Oh... and you should sometimes ignore that voice in your head. Stay curious.", he said. He understood what you tried to do. Or why you did it. In fact he has heard Bael rant many times about how you let your curiosity get the better of you. Beelzebub was at least happy that he was on time with saving you... This time...

Leviathan dragged you into his coffin and you both managed to get away from the blast.

You wanted to thank him for saving you, but stopped yourself from doing so the moment he shot an angry glance at you.

"Are you insane? Why did you just stand there instead of running?", he started and didn't stop.

"When I told you that you were dangerous factor to Hell and when I locked you up in my coffin I should've done so.", he said. He didn't really register what he said at that moment, but you did. He was talking about that moment where you met him and that he almost killed you by locking you up in his coffin.

He wanted to continue scolding you and being angry, but it stopped the moment his words fully registered and when he saw tears stream down your face.

He really didn't mean it like that, but he did understand that to you it may have been a bad memory. He embraced you.

"I didn't mean to say that. I just need you to be more careful in general. I've see the stupid things you did out of curiosity, but atleast try to be safe.", he said.

Lucifer, a fallen angel, had more tolerance to the angel's blood than most demons had. Also him having an entire kingdom full with healers helped him in what he did.

He just took the blast for you.

To say that he was angry at yet another wound, that he may or may not be able to heal, was an understatement.

But his anger did vanish a bit when he saw you tear up out of shock, guilt and worry.

"You should continue crying. It's the only thing keeping you safe from me.", he said.

Whether he meant that sexual or not, no one knows. Lucifer's words are just as mysterious as his actions.

He would be healed in no time. Searching for you only to see you getting scolded by Marbas. He didn't stop Marbas.

"His majesty blocked you. You should be very grateful. Also, what would you have doenif you were hit? We are healers yes, but we don't create miracles. You are just like those demons in Abaddon. The ones that give us extra work."

Marbas was angry, but not only because of the explosion incident. Also because of the amount of times you let your intrusive thoughts win. Which results in him and the other nobles of Paradise Lost to heal you.

You coming to Paradise Lost to heal was on par with the amount of times Dantalian came. It maybe is an exaggeration, but that didn't mean that you didn't frequent that place to get healed. At first they blamed it on you being a human, but that thought broke the moment you told Buer that you just wanted to see what would happen if you touched a hot pan.

He, the others and Lucifer were worried.

[doctorgirlsblog]

Merz Prinzessin vs. Dutch Lion

Part 1: She-devil

Warnings: throughout the series, there are mentions of cheating, explicite sex scenes (+18) and swearing.

P.S. Hope you guys like the first part, feel free to leave your opinions in the comments 👀

Many more parts coming soon 🫶🏻

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Miss Wolff, the conference starts in 40 minutes." Aria groaned upon hearing her name being called, a sweet reminder of the upcoming press conference ahead of the new season. In her rookie year, all she heard were whispers about how she had secured her place on the Mercedes team because of her father, especially after Lewis retired at the end of 2022. She made no attempt to justify the rumors; she knew her worth and talent. Instead, she let her performance on the track do the talking.

That's how she earned the nickname "Mercedes Princess," a title that garnered both admiration and secret resentment. She didn't mind the attention, though. However, she silenced all the naysayers by finishing 2nd in the Drivers' Championship that same year, surpassing Charles, who landed in 3rd place, almost 70 points behind her. This year, however, she would be driving as the team's first driver, with George as her teammate. She couldn't help but smirk at the thought of posible win this year, of wiping that Red Bull golden boy's smile off his face when she finally overtook him and snatched his dream in Abu Dhabi.

Ever since their karting days, the two could not stand each other. Always trying to beat each other, pushing the other off the track, laughing when the other failed. Still, their whole lives, they were there, growing up together, side by side, watching each other, learning all the little tricks the other liked to pull.

Max envied the girl. She was talented, yes, but besides that, she had everything he didn't: a supportive family behind her, the support and unconditional love Totto provided for his little girl even when she failed, and somehow, wherever she went, everyone loved her instantly. Her looks worked in her favor. Sometimes, when he was alone, he thought of her and wondered if he could be friends with the girl if it weren't for his dad.

Still, she didn't acknowledge any of it, and for his own sake and that of his father, he couldn't either.

Max had to work hard for it all. He never had it easy, with his dad trying to build a champion. He still doesn’t. But he learned to cope with it, mostly. Kelly being there helped a lot. Her love helped a lot. So he locked himself in the peace and security she brought. It was a safe place, with no risks being taken.

But somehow, when it came back to that German devil—and somehow it always did—he was still that little boy looking for approval all over again.

Little Aria did feel some kind of pain seeing him alone on the track in his cart in the pouring rain while she sat in her dad's lap in the warmth, drinking hot chocolate. But as soon as those feelings came, they went away; they had to because he was her rival—competition. She couldn't care for a rival. So she didn't. Or at least, that's what she had convinced herself of all those years ago. Instead, she settled for bickering and teasing, riling the boy up just for fun and challenges.

It surely didn't change over the years.

"Ari, you coming?" George's voice pulled her out of her thoughts as he opened the door of her driver's room. "Yeah. I'll be there in five."

Of course, he had to be there at the same time. Just her luck. And, of course, the only available seat was next to him. He watched her with a smile on his face. Her stomach turned at it, and she was already counting the fees she would likely have to pay if she turned away and walked out. It didn't help that her PR, Elena, was watching her, silently challenging her to do something. And the poor girl already puts up with so much from her.

So, she sat, politely answered all the questions, smiled like the golden girl of the team that she was, and ignored the sweet smell of perfume emanating from her left side. She didn't care. It didn't even smell that good.

"Max, one last question for you," said the reporter, pulling Aria from her thoughts. "What is your opinion on Wolff challenging you for the title this year?" Her head snapped up at the question, and she looked at him questioningly.

And then he laughed. He fucking laughed. "Well, I'm quite confident in the car and the team. Preseason testing went great, so yes, I would say I'm going for the fourth title this year. Time will tell, but yes, I mean, someone has to get silver too. May the best win." And then he looked at her, a smirk plastered on his face.

She saw red. In that exact moment, she came up with ten different ways to kill him and make it look like an accident. But she maintained her stoic façade, not giving any reaction. Instead, she smiled. Softly, cunningly, all while digging the heel of her foot into his under the table. He winced at the contact, glaring at her angrily. She smiled again. The journalists had already begun packing up after the last question to Max, and George also got up and left, but the staring match between the two was still ongoing.

"Du kleine Arschloch!" - she whispered - yelled at him. (you little asshole!)

"You seem to forget that I do speak German, Aria." Her name rolled off his tongue for the first time this year. It surely didn't cause her heart to skip a beat. Not a chance. Not him.

"Well good for you then. You understand that you are an asshole in both of them. You refused to even acknowledge me as the competition!"

"Now, now, don't be so hard on yourself. Second place is a good place to be." He kept smiling at her, provoking her even further. But she, deciding on being mature again, did what any pissed-off mature person would do. She decided to make him crumble and prove him wrong once and for all. She made a silent promise to herself that she would bring him to his knees.

"Okay then. If you're so sure of yourself, Verstappen, we will talk before Bahrain. I do have a proposition for the reigning world champ." A cunning smirk was plastered on her red lips as she looked up at him. Damn the height difference.

"What for?" - asked Max, looking at her sharp features, not allowing his eyes to wander.

"You'll find out when the time is right, Liebchen. I do have some errands to run. Say hi to sweet Kelly for me." Her nails grazed along his arm for a split second before she pulled her hand away.

He lost his previous train of thought. Her touch was brief, almost nonexistent, yet she managed to throw his brain out the window with it.

"Wait, what ar-.." he didn't get to finish his sentence because she had already turned her back on him and started walking.

Max kept staring at her receding form. The girl was a menace, and nobody seemed to notice except for him. Yet, she didn't seem to care about teasing anyone else. Other drivers on the grid adored the girl.

He scoffed and, shaking his head, went to get his things and drive back to the hotel.

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

What Max didn’t expect was a certain someone coming into his dreams that night. As he woke up, sweaty and out of breath, running his hands through his hair, like she had done minutes earlier in his dream, he realized one thing.

He was upmost und uterrly fucked.

And Aria Wolff was the reason, all over again.

[resident-idiot-simp]

Laura wasn't particularly happy to be at the mansion; she blamed a lot of the X-Men for her father's death. It was unfair and probably unjust, but she did anyway. She remembers him telling her stories about them, but they weren't good. He seemed to think they were, but they were so much like the lab.

It was clear that they were the reason he refused to open up. The reason he refused to let her close and it was clear to her even as a kid. He feared rejection because they had rejected him many times and used him for their own gain. Maybe it wasn't intentional, maybe they were just stupid, but they still didn't treat him well.

So ending up in the mansion wasn't something she wanted to do but here she was. It was the safest place for her to continue schooling and training and she could acknowledge that.

When she introduced herself, they looked like they'd seen a ghost, and she supposed they had. She tried her best to ignore them and their millions of questions. She just grunted dismissals at them. It seemed only to make it worse. She elected to just avoid them instead. 

The other students watched her cautiously, but it didn't bother her. She understood that she was not like them, not really. Yukio and Ellie were really the only ones she hung out with and It was nice. In fact, if Ellie wanted to avoid people, she’d find Laura. It worked well and neither girl complained. 

Then one day Rogue approached her, and Laura felt nervous because Rogue was like her. She remembers the comics well Rogue was one of Logans. Logan would also mention her sometimes and he spoke so fondly of her like another child. She had never been jealous, not really. She's more jealous that she got the chance to really get to know Logan. 

Rogue stopped in front of her and held out a hand, “My name's Rogue.” she said with a smile, her accent thick. 

“I know, I've heard a lot about you. My name's Laura.” Laura shook her gloved hand with a smile as she introduced herself. 

Rogue smiled brightly as she stood back and looked her over, “Hard not to know of each other when we live in the same mansion.” Laura rolled her eyes at that.

“Not just from the mansion Logan told me about you, and I read the comics as a child.” Laura told her. Rogue blinked a few times, tears slightly gathering before she managed to get herself back under control.

“He did?” She asked shakily and Laura smiled softly, “Of course he did, he loved you like you were his own.” Rogue couldn't manage to stifle a sob at that, and Laura understood. Logan, despite his rough exterior cared more than anyone, he would lay down his life for any of them. The lucky ones he got close to truly understood that depth of his devotion.

“Ho-how did he die?” Rogue asked shakily and Laura felt her own eyes sting. “He died saving me.” Laura answered voice wavering and in the next moment Rogue was hugging her and suddenly they were both crying. It was so cathartic to have someone who understood, that truly understood.

They grew close and started calling each other sisters because that's what they were. Logan had seen them both as his own children, only one of them technical biologically. After that it doesn't take long for the other kids to grow close to her and once they realize she still knows the Logan who had come into this universe they want desperately to know how he's doing. 

(continue on Ao3)

@twilightkitkat ANOTHER ONE

The other one

[moonshynecybin]

Hi, new to motogp and i’m a sucker for friends to enemies to lovers and relationships drama and pain so obviously i love marc/vale, i am also think marc is fascinating, but I haven’t found much info detailed info vale’s smear campaign against him/his media savvyness/his entire personality, like i think i grasp the bare bones but, are there any tumblr essay that are required reading to you? Also any good posts about this arm injury (aside for the documentary that i will be watching this weekend)

i love arm. ummmm his documentary is pretty much the story. like the central conceit/plot of the whole damn thing is to chart this latest operation on the injury he sustained in jerez 2020 its GONNA give you most of the information on that. now, that being said. marc is a liar sometimes, so i'm gonna try and gather some resources that might give a better idea on where his arm is NOW, because its something he kind of contradicts himself about !

simon patterson interview with The Race podcast: shockingly candid tbh. i think lil homie was having a bit of a crisis. standing on the edge of a cliff facing down possibly the end of his career. what if the move to gresini sucks ass kinda moment. couching his chances this year pretty aggressively. he ALSO says some stuff about how fucked up his arm still is that hes since tried to mildly walk back cuz hes funny. anyways because im insane i transcribed it:

SP: Did you have to switch teams this season? Did you have to change to something that gave you more of a chance to win after the last few years after how difficult everything has been? MM: Yeah, of course if I change teams its because it was something that I need. And yeah, of course it was a risky movement, but at the same time it was a movement thinking on my career, not on results in a short time. Its like thinking if I have the motivation, if I’m competitive again. You know, I had— three years ago, four years ago I had a very big injury, a hard injury in the arm. And yeah, now its working well, but still is not— I mean its the arm that you open four times. If you ask to a doctor, of course its performing in a good way, but its not the same arm. But I have many question marks inside my head. So, the best way to answer to myself is— do what I want. And yeah, its a risky movement. Why? Because the comfortable movement is to stay where I was, with my people, with my friends, with a big salary, the project. But I decided to jump to a new project and at the moment we will see if I can answer the many questions that I have. SP: It sounds like the reason you did it, the questions you have to answer are all for yourself. It's not about– MM: No, no no no– it's just for me. Because for me— I say many times in my interviews— if I don't feel competitive– and competitive doesn't mean win or win, it means be in that top five top six, and yeah five four podiums, five four victories. Win a championship is super difficult. And especially it becomes more and more difficult when the years are passing and the younger [people] are coming. So the life is the life and every athlete has his moment, and then step by step it goes down. But yeah I need to feel again competitive to continue with my career.  Especially these last four years, has been, I mean– has been a nightmare, but is like it has passed super quick. The other years I was competing. I mean in the last four years I’ve completed half the championship, because I had many injuries, so now I need to find this stability, this pace. To start to create again a good base to fight for some races to the top positions— this is my intention. But to fight for the championship? This is something that still I’m not ready for. SP: You said that you learned a lot, during all of this. Is there things that have made you better? Are there things that youre gonna come back now with like new skills because of the experience? MM: No. I will not be better than before. Because– Yeah, maybe I have more experience, but before I was 100% in physical condition, and I was fresh. People say ‘No, he will come back stronger.’ When you have an injury, of course it's— injury is an injury. When you have an injury like two, three years, you lose the rhythm, you lose the feeling sometimes. And then it's super difficult to repeat all those things. But especially because your body— I mean they say the body is super smart, it can adapt. The body is super smart to adapt to new things, but it also is smart to remember what’s going on there. So yeah. I will be different, maybe— but not better.

theres also this similar quote from jan 2023:

theres also this recent statement from mat oxley talking about his arm and his sort of. show no weakness when it can be used against you philosophy

SO. following with that observation. he's started also kinda. being more noncommittal and vague in interviews/presscons now that he senses blood in the water. show no weakness expose no underbelly type stuff. so theres this in preseason which is actually around the same time as the patterson interview where he's still couching it a bit but hes also very adamant that his arm is working:

and then the BIG change comes around mugello this year, when he was fishing HARD for that ducati 2025 seat and changed his tune uh. QUITE a bit:

finally just some posts psychoanalyzing his ass about arm/injury, MOST of which are fairly recent. here, here, here, here, here, and here. ive also aggregated some recs for content good for learning about him in general here! go with god