#sunset was bribed

[pricknim]

My friend told me to use the poses from this tiktok, so I did. They were all convinced to do this by Pinkie (and Dash).

[doctorskelegoats]

They're gonna bribe the officials, they're gonna kill all the lyctors. It's going to take all of us years to recover from all of the damage. Sunset Tree week continues. Artist credit: Twitter user Sesamedi

[mischieveousmayhem]

Hi! I've been following your writing for a bit now, and I really like your style of writing. There's a sort of flow to it. Anyways, I was wondering if you could write a Bruce Wayne x Batmom! Reader. Where Damian clings to Batmom a lot and it's so obvious he loves her more than he loves Bruce. So Batmom overhears Bruce paying Damian like a large amount of money to not interrupt their date? I think this would be really cute, and it's okay if you can't write it. And thank you so much in advance! <3

Bribes

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader, Damian Wayne x Batmom! Reader

Genre: Fluff (?)

Warnings: Characters may be out of character, reader is shorter than Bruce Wayne, jealousy

Synopsis: Will Bruce ever get a moment with you?

It happens a lot, almost too often. Every moment Bruce thinks he has alone with you , he doesn't.

The first time was when Damian started getting comfortable with you.

You and Bruce were in your bedroom, limbs entangled, just enjoying each other's presence in the dark, cold room. The only warmth was your bodies and the blankets.

Bruce was enjoying this, he was enjoying you. You guys had all boys, and oh lord were they mama's boys who needed you for all simple. Thank god he didn't have to worry about Damian turning into one like his brothers. At least Bruce thought.

There was a knock on the door.

"Go away." Bruce's voice booms.

You move from the position you and Bruce were in and you sit up.

"You can come in, Damian." You say.

It was quite obvious it was Damian, your boys all knocked on the door differently. Damians seemed more hesitant.

Damian walked in coming to your side of the bed. Bruce stares blankly , and confused on how the hell you knew it was Damian.

"Y/N , I had a nightmare can I sleep here?"

"N—" Bruce started.

"I was asking Y/N. Not you." Damian cuts him off. He sure was Bruces child.

"Of course, love." You smiled as the boy climbed in between you and a grumpy Bruce.

—

Another time it happened was when you and Bruce had a Gala to go to but the boys were gonna stay home.

However, he couldn't find you anywhere in sight to be found. Until he walked into the living room to find you and Damian cuddled under a blanket.

Damian leaned back on you with you rubbing his hair until he spots his father and he immediately jumps up acting like his mother wasn't just giving him affection he craved.

"Y/N, why aren't you dressed. We have that Gala tonight." Bruce raised a brow at you as he stood in front of you in his tuxedo that he looked EXTREMELY handsome in.

You give him a nervous smile, "Well about that," You raised up a thermometer, "Damian is feeling a bit under the weather so I will stay here with him while you attend."

Damian did a fake cough while smirking at his father. His face out of your vision you couldn't see the smirk.

Bruce squinted at Damian. He wasn't going to rat out his son to you because at least Damian warmed up to you and even then you wouldn't believe Bruce.

—

The last straw was when Bruce found Damian taking his favorite thing to do with you.

Every evening you would sit in the garden. It was labeled your bench because the boys always saw you out there on it no matter the weather.

One of your quiet places, you just sit out and read, crochet or some other peaceful activity until Bruce comes out. You two watch the sunsets every evening together and it was just a romantic, wholesome moment.

That is why when Bruce came outside to the garden to see Damian in his mother's arms he almost lost it.

Bruce wanted to be in your arms and Damian should not be there at all.

"Room for one more?" Bruce speaks.

This time Damian doesn't move out of your arms for his father has seen him like this multiple times and he just doesn't want his brothers to spot him being babied in his mother's arms.

"Sorry dear, there is only enough room for two people on this bench. You can come tomorrow." You look back and smile almost guilty.

Unfortunately tomorrow never came, because everyday Damian would beat Bruce to your arms on the bench.

—

All those events lead up to now. Bruce sitting Damian down to have a talk before you and Bruce went out for a date that Bruce has been looking forward to.

"I've noticed you spend a lot of time with Y/N." Bruce spoke to Damian.

"Ummi and I are just having normal mother-son time." Damian speaks.

Bruce furrows his eyebrows, "Yeah..whatever."

"Great! Conversation ended." Damian was about to get up till Bruce stopped him.

"You are not to sabotage this date." Bruce says.

"I'm not going to sabotage it but I am starting to feel a little sick." Damian smirked.

"Do not fake sick, I will pay you a million dolla—" Bruce was about to give Damian a bribe until he heard your laughter from the doorway and his face dropped.

"You two are really something." You place your hands on your hips after you stop laughing.

The two just stare at you waiting for you go finish what you are going to say.

"Damian, if your sick Dick will be here to take care of you in a little but until then you have Alfred." She walks towards him and brings her hand to his cheek, cupping it, "I spend a lot of time with you Dami, it is time I give your father some attention."

Damian melts into your touch, nodding. You were right, he had been spending a lot of time with you.

You then turn to Bruce, "As for you, you shouldn't have to bribe your son to not "sabotage" , our dates." You roll your eyes.

"I know, but we haven't had much time together lately." Bruce comes towards you.

When he's in-front of you, you look up while grabbing his forearms.

"I know, that's why tonight it will only just be us. I promise." Your eyes glimmer as you speak those words to him.

He was about to lean down to kiss you till Damian gets up and runs out the room yelling, "GET A ROOM!!"

[thatnonameuser]

A Wonderland Of Yanderes

Twisted Wonderland AU - Inspired by @yandere-daydreams

Part 1 Part 2

Imagine…

A world where the behavior of Yanderes is completely acceptable, if not normal.

Where darlings are stalked, kidnapped, and kept by their Yanderes.

Where murder in the name of love can be pushed aside, as a simple accident.

Where it’s common for the Yanderes to learn about how to control their darlings as soon as they’re able.

Not all places in this Twisted Wonderland are equal though.

The Queendom of Roses and the Shaftlands are by far the best places to be if you’re a darling. Darling rights prevent Yandere’s from being horrifically abusive, locking them away from the outside world for good or using too harsh of punishments. Murder is a major no-no, and Yanderes can lose their darlings forever if they’ve committed such a heinous crime. Darlings can even be taken away for lesser crimes, placed in the care of the state far away from their abusive yanderes. 

But as we all know, people will find their ways to bend the rules. Manipulation and controlling techniques are common in these zones, often holding the darlings’ children over their heads, or bribing their way out of the law.

On the flipside, the Sunset Savannah and the Coral Sea are some of the worst places to be. While women are treated as equals, darlings are not. They’re considered the prey locked in the jaws of the predators. Whether they slip from the jaws is their own business. Darlings are free to run and hide, but nothing’s stopping their Yanderes from throwing them back over their shoulders back to their lives of captivity. Whether a darling’s punishment is fair or not, as long as they're not dead, Yandere’s do whatever they please. Murder is less bad of a crime here if done in a battle for a darling’s hand. 

The Sunset Savannah’s King’s own wife was a darling, and even she can’t get away from his ‘love’ and ‘affection’. Though she never complains, always by her husband’s or child’s side.

Though some Darlings are smart, running off to one of the nation’s that give them more freedoms. Still, if you can’t get them on your own, thanks to those stupid laws, there’s a whole list of Bounty Hunters willing to do it for you. They’re scary good, and your darling will be back before you know it.

The Scalding Sands rests safely in the middle of the spectrum. Darlings carry some rights and freedoms but that’s only in the most horrible of extremes. They’re treated as fragile, and it’s in everyone’s best interest to look after them. They’re traditionally spoiled with riches and wealth, but that’s just to cover up the bruises, both from pleasure and punishments.

Even with the few freedoms of the darlings, the sparkling sand of the desert can be so deceiving. A black market for darling recapture, whether taken legally or runaways. Hitmen who can hide corpses of rivals in the desert. 

The Isle of Lamentation is completely separate from the world, but it's full of Yandere’s all the same. So many of the staff are Yandere’s yet almost none have darlings. They’re practically voyeurs watching their darlings from afar, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The Shroud family’s current matriarch was darling from the outside world, and most of the people there are certain that even her living son hasn't seen her since last spring. 

The isolation from the world is perfect for hiding away darlings. And they’ll go crazy for any interaction and affection, like a Persphone locked in the Underworld.

If the Sunset Savannah is old-fashioned in its treatment of darlings, then the Briar Valley is practically ancient.   The darlings’ lives are completely controlled by their yanderes, kept under lock and key for the remainder of their lives. Darlings rarely leave their homes without their yanderes acting as escorts, with beautiful collars of jewels and precious stones marking them as darlings and the fine, equally ornate leashes in their yanderes’ hands as their ‘owners’. Darlings are considered so fragile, that the outside world is far too dangerous for them, that it’s safer where they’re kept by their yanderes. Murder in the name of a darling is practically excused, as long as it was in the name of protecting their dainty darlings.

On Sage Island the two rival schools are polar opposites.

Royal Sword Academy is honestly full of delusional yanderes, looking for a darling to be their princess to save, their perfect damsels in distress. All they want is to fall in love at first sight with the darling of their dreams. The one who they'll be enchanted with and will sing a love song that will move the hearts of millions with.

They excuse all concerning actions with a simple wave of the hand. They followed you home? They were just looking out for you. They’ve been stalking you? They just want to make sure you’re ok! You caught them over your bed, pink faced, while you were asleep? They probably where just checking to make sure they could wake you up with a kiss, you know the love stories~

Night Raven College is more honest. They know what they are and they’re not hiding it. Since NRC’s full of different students, the crimes that were once illegal in their hometowns, are completely fine here. As long as you don’t get caught. Then you might have detention while we figure out how to make it look like an accident. 

Classes about proper Darling care and how to get away with other crimes are mandatory for first years, but after that it becomes an elective. Potion Classes teach how to make the best love potions, tranquilisers and the deadliest of poisons that kill without a trace. Animal Language to communicate with the local fauna if your darling runs away into the woods, and you can’t find them. Phys Ed to carry your darling away whether they're unconscious or kicking and screaming with ease.

But what about you? What does that mean for poor, little you? Lost in a world you barely know anything about. And worst yet, you’re a darling. Try your best to get back home……

…..If they let you that is.

[oxpogues4lifexo]

Becoming a Cameron

Marrying Rafe would feel like a dream come true. There would be every colour of flowers known to man. The whole island would be there. The rings would have the biggest diamonds. Your dress alone would cost tens of thousands but it’s okay because it’s Rafe Cameron.

It wouldn’t be a traditional churchy wedding. No. It would be at the biggest most expensive resort and you’d marry outside. In the sunset, the grass, fairy lights and flowers filling in all the empty spaces. Every chair laid out perfectly with little gifts on each of them. Your bridesmaids and groomsman would wear only the expensive stuff. You’d pay for everyone’s hair and makeup. EVERYTHING was on you (Rafe). All the kids would have their own gift bags to keep them occupied because you love kids and were able to bribe Rafe to let them be at the ceremony.

Rafe would 1000% cry!!! Like undoubtedly. He’d just be stood at the altar already thinking about you and tearing up. Knowing that your the only person EVER who has show him the love he deserves and your here today to confirm that you will never ever leave him. He still doesn’t believe it to this day. He doesn’t even believe you said yes and meant it. But here you are, about to walk out on the path of flower petals to the song you both picked out that reminded you of your first everything. Seeing you, god he’d break down. And he wouldn’t even care about everyone seeing. Because he knows he banked the prettiest and most perfect person on the island and he wants everyone to know just how you make him feel. He’s wrapped around you finger. He’s so madly inlove with you. And today is the day he finally gets the chance to admit it. Everything. Everythings he’s felt and thought the past few years, he gets to tell you and everyone else. He was ready, but also scared.

The tables were inside, all decorated with flowers and the finest gold cutlery. Everyone would have a meal that fit them, preferably their favourite meals. Because Rafe doesn’t care for money and wants only the best for everyone on your special day. He’d pay for 10 chefs that could cook up the best meals and obviously there’d be rows of tables full of picky bits for the kids.

You’d have your first dance alone, separate from the rest of your friends and family. Youd want it to be private and intimate. Going outside to enjoy your time alone in the quiet and sway side to side together as you just look into each others eyes with nothing but absolute pure love. Neither of you have ever felt like this before but you’d never exchange it for anything. You both knew this was forever, and you couldn’t wait to move on to the next big step.

For my nsfw girlies, afterwards you’d get a private plane to your honeymoon. Before you’d share the dirtiest sex known to man. On the plane? Yes. On the beach. Yes? you wouldn’t stop. Because you were both insanely lovestruck and couldn’t keep your hands off each other. This was for life. And you couldn’t help but keep your hands and eyes on the hottest man in the world. He was all yours. And you wanted everyone to know that. You wanted HIM to know that.

[2thestars-andbeyond]

Little Rabbit Part 2

This Is not well edited! But enjoy part 2. Hope you like it!

A knock on my door ripped me from my thoughts. I had confined myself to my room for the past three days, resting from my training with Rhysand.

The door burst open before I had a chance to get up from my seat in front of the large window in my room. Mor and Amren along with Nesta entered the room.

"We thought you were dead." Amren purred as she took a seat on my bed.

"Just inside." I said as I gave her a smile.

I told them of my accidental adventure to the Autumn Court. "It was so beautiful there." I told them and Mor scoffed.

"Honestly, you are lucky you made it out alive especially at the hands of Eris." Mor said and Nesta hummed in agreement.

I shrugged. "Eris was polite. And I'm lucky he found me instead of someone else." I shivered as I remembered how his hands had felt. Now isn't the time to start daydreaming about the Heir again.

"I know how charming Eris can be. But you can't let him get to you." Nesta said sternly. I rolled my eyes at her.

"So what's this I hear about a Masquerade ball? I over heard Rhys and Feyre talking about it this morning." Mor asked.

"Something to do with the Autumn Court. They got the invitation yesterday." Amren informed us.

"Of course it would be the Autumn Court." Mor groaned. "Looks like volunteering to baby sit Nyx that night."

How I got roped into dress shopping with my sisters for this Masquerade was beyond me. I think they may have bribed me with coffee from my favorite shop. But here I stood in the middle of the most elaborate dress shop in Velaris.

I hated shopping, even as a human. Nesta and Elain would always be the ones to pick out my dresses for these types of events. Always dressing me in purples and blues. Night Court colors. After looking at what seemed like a million dresses, a green dress caught my eye.

It was silk and the greenest green I've ever seen. The split may be a little too high for my liking, but it was beautiful. After trying it on, I knew it was the dress. I picked out gold jewelry to go with it. My last purchase was a mask. It had to be a rabbit. Full face gold one that only showed my lips and eyes, it was perfect.

"Are you sure you want to go with the green dress, Y/N?" Elain asked softly before we left the shop. "Shouldn't you wear A Night Court color? Purple always brings out the shade of your eyes."

"The dress is bold. I don't think I've seen you in anything like it." Feyre said.

"A color is a color. Plus, i've grown tired of always wearing the same shades of dark colors."

After buying our findings, or putting them on Rhysands tab, we arrived at the River House for Family dinner. It was always nice to have us all together. I walked into the large dinning room with Nyx on my hip.

"Momma" He cooed as I handed him off to Feyre.

Since my usual seat next to Azriel had been stolen by Elain, I took her usual one across from Feyre. Lucien entered the room awkwardly and took the seat to my right. He wasn't usually here for these meals, or meals at all, but he had been working with Rhysand on something that I wasn't allowed to know. Nothing new there.

I always feel bad for him having to be around his mate while she pines over another male. Though, he seems to handle it well enough. I'm sure the bond isn't as strong as it used to be.

Food appeared before us and everyone started to dig in. Nyx taking a spoon full of potatoes and chucking them towards Cassian was the highlight of the night thus far.

"You little-" He exclaimed as everyone scolded him before he finished the sentence.

"It's every time we have potatoes!." He says while taking his napkin and wiping them off his face. "I swear one of you is putting him up to it." Cassian points his fork accusingly at everyone at the table.

"We will leave tomorrow for the Autumn Court." Rhys says. "The ball starts after sunset."

"Y/N, Rhysand and I were talking and we both agree that it not safe for you to attend the ball." Feyre said, carefully.

"But I already have my dress and my mask."

Rhysand sighed, "Eris seemed to take too much of a liking to you, Y/N. I can't take the chance of something happening while we are there."

Choosing to be the better person, I replied with a simple, "Fine" that was laced with venom. And left to plan a way to attend the Masquerade Ball against my sister and High Lords wishes.

The next morning I had it all planned out. I had winnowed myself to the Autumn Court by myself before, so why couldn't I do it again? I ate breakfast and lunch in my room, hoping everyone thought I was too pissed off to eat with them.

I fixed my hair into a fancy up do not focusing too much on makeup. after applying a deep red color to my lips, I turned to my dress. Why was I doing this again? Going against my sister and more importantly Rhysand could get me in a lot of trouble. And what if I get caught? What if someone notices me? We all know how big of a busy body Azriel can be and his shadows tell him everything. Was my mask enough to hide behind?

Truthfully, I had to see him again. He has haunted my dreams and every thought since we met. I was going to that ball. Over grown bats be damned.

I stuffed a change of regular clothes into a bag that I planned on hiding behind the bar at Rita's, thanks to a friend. And from there I winnowed to the Autumn Court, hoping I wouldn't end up in the middle of the woods again.

Opening my eyes I found myself outside of the ball entrance. I sighed, relieved that I hadn't ended up in the forest again.

Upon entering the elaborate wooden doors, I took a drink I was offered. A drink that is only found in Autumn Court the small female said. I downed it, coughing at the strong cinnamon flavor. I gave her a small "Thank You" Before going deeper into the room. I hadn't paid any attention to what masks my family had bought to wear.

Something that did stand out in the crowd of masked Fae were wings. Two sets of them, and I was walking right into their path. I turned around quickly. Coming in contact with something solid. A person. Male. wearing an elaborate fox mask. I stood gaping at him like a scared rabbit that had been caught by a predator.

"Hello little rabbit" The male purred sending goosebumps through me. It was him. Cassians booming laugh came from behind me.

"Rhysand, I'm so glad you could make it." Eris greeted them.

"Thank you Eris, we were glad for the invitation, though I believe that Masquerades that have been thrown in the Night Court were a lot more, put together if you will." Rhysand took Feyres arm and led her to the dancefloor. None of them seemed to notice me.

"Care to dance?" Eris asked offering me his hand, I took it too eagerly. Causing him to chuckle.

The night went on as I stayed on the dance floor with Eris. We didn't talk just danced. Song after song played as he twirled me around the dance floor. Throughout the night I made share to keep up with each of my family members to ensure that I left before them. So I could be home when they got.

"Would you like a drink?" Eris asked. I nodded my head and we walked hand and hand to the drink table. He handed me a glass and motioned towards the balcony. The cold night air hit my over heated skin.

"So, little rabbit, are you enjoying yourself tonight?"

"I am" I replied scared to say too much. What if he remembered what my voice sounded like?

"You are a creature of very little words, hm?" He mused.

"It is a Masquerade ball, isn't the point of the whole night not knowing much about who you are dancing with?" I uttered and he hummed in agreement.

Eris faced me and placed his hand under my chin, lifting my face so that I met his gaze. "Do I know you from somewhere? Something about you seems so familiar."

"I- this is my first time in your Court." I lie.

Eris shakes his head "And you attend a ball by yourself?"

Panic takes over. He's going to figure me out. Just as I open my mouth, a couple catch my eye. Hidden on the other side of the large balcony, I pair of wings catch my eye. And then a female. Azriel and Elain. Kissing.

I let out a shocked noise which makes them pull apart from each other and they return to the dance. "Do you know them?" Eris asks.

"No- I." It was then that I noticed that I had lost sight of my family. I entered the ball room, they were no where to be seen.

"Little rabbit?" Eris grabs for my hand.

"I have to leave." I declare. Turning to walk out.

"But the night has just begun."

"I know. I just-"

"What? Have to get back home before you turn into pumpkin?" He jokes.

"No I just have to go. I bid you goodnight, Prince Eris." I turn to leave the movement so fast that my mask falls to the ground.

"Wait, Little rabbit you lost your-" was the last words I heard before winnowing back to Rita's.

@sunny1616 @rcarbo1 @jesskidding3 @bella-maria2018 @lilah-asteria

[froggibus]

Beach Day - Overwatch Women

Includes: D.VA, Mercy, Widowmaker, Mei, Kiriko, Brigitte & Junker Queen

Genre: fluff, some crack

Summary: spend a day at the beach w your favorite overwatch lady

CW: lots of sunscreen, mention of skin cancer (Mercy), some suggestive parts but nothing nsfw, drinking & alcohol, mentions of sharks, Kiriko is a brat (affectionate), rare Mitzi appearance

This is part of my Summer Suntacular event, come check it out!

D.Va:

beach gremlin

she has a giant collection of bathing suits & sunglasses that she never wears from doing brand deals

brings a portable speaker so she can blast her favorite summer tunes (much to the dismay of nearby groups)

you best believe she’s asking you to play mermaids

it is near impossible to get her out of the water or to reapply sunscreen

however PLEASE force her to apply sunscreen or else she’s going to turn into a lobster 

wants to have a contest for EVERYTHING

diving, swimming, sandcastles—everything is a challenge

the kids on the beach love her though & ask for a million pictures

she has a dork ass 2D pool floatie of Tokki that she refuses to swim without

you’ll have to bribe her with ice cream to get her out when it’s time to go

it WILL be a three scoop monstrosity of the weirdest flavour combos—like bubblebum, mint chocolate chip & orange 

she’ll want to have a beach themed movie marathon after but fall asleep twenty minutes into the first movie 

Mercy:

she is the beach volleyball PRO

always says she won’t get sucked into playing but ends up in some tournament (and WINS)

total stickler for sun protection—everyone is reapplying their sunscreen every 90 minutes

“I already put some on, I don’t need it”

“Skin cancer does not care.”

you could swear you’ve heard Baptiste say the same thing…

she’ll apply it for you in all the places you can’t reach though & expects you to do the same 

she has a super cute bikini BUT it’s hidden under board shorts and a rashguard (that she totally pulls off)

packs tons of yummy homemade snacks, sandwiches and enough water bottles for a small family

makes friends with the lifeguards on duty and offers them her water

mostly spends time reading on the towel but if you ask her, she’ll come into the water with you to cool off

longingly sighs and looks at those lounge beach floaties like it’s her long lost lover (please bring one for her next time)

she hates sand getting in her house so you’ll have to shower off as soon as you get back (but don’t worry, she’ll shower with you to make sure you’re extra clean)

Widowmaker:

she’ll only go if it’s a private beach, or somewhere more lowkey

she has a total soft spot for tropical cocktails served in plastic cups with swirly straws

somehow her cup is always full even when you swear it was empty a second ago

she mostly wants to lay on the sand and sunbathe, maybe listen to some music

she’s not brash enough to bring a speaker so she just listens to it with her headphones

only goes in the water to cool off, or if you ask her to

get her a pool floatie with a cupholder and you could keep her in the water all day

she’s the one on the lounge float that Mercy wanted

somehow her hair and makeup look perfect even when she’s been swimming

talks constantly about Ĉote D’Azur and the gorgeous beaches there

if you splash her at all (not recommended) she WILL retaliate to her fullest extent 

she’d never admit it but she secretly has fun playing in the water with you

promises to take you to the French Riviera next time you have a beach day

Mei:

nobody deserves a beach day more than her

she’s dragging you down there as soon as the sun rises and not leaving until way past sunset

has a HUGE pouch of different kinds of reef and eco friendly sunscreens that she forces you to apply

brings a book to read while she lounges in the sand and offers to share it with you if you’re bored

has a cute flamingo floatie with a cupholder so she can just drift along the coastline

brings you one of her spare floaties and ties the two of them together so you can float with her

she swears she left Snowball at home but as soon as her soda runs out he shows up with another one

he actually makes a pretty good waiter

even long after the sun goes down, she wants to float with you and relax

“It’s been so long since I’ve been to the beach…thank you.”

Kiriko:

no matter how many times you ask her or she promises not to

she WILL pretend to be a shark and almost get the beach closed and you guys kicked off

loves playing in the sand with the kids and helps them build a HUGE sandcastle

gives one (1) kid a piggyback ride through the water and has to spend the next hour giving piggyback rides

she has a cute donut floatie that looks like a bite is missing that she sprawls across

forces you to wear a hat in the sun, which ends up being an extra one of hers

so you’re walking around all day with a fox eared baseball cap on

oh and she’s also pounding back mudslides the whole day, so good luck with that

this mf is so lazy that when she wants another drink she just teleports there and scares everybody around to death

“you’re gonna give someone a heart attack doing that”

“good thing I’m a medic then”

you’re all doomed

Brigitte:

INSISTS on bringing Mitzi 

“babe he’s a cat. they don’t like water.”

“yeah but he can just hang out!”

you somehow win the argument by pointing out he doesn’t have swim goggles (however he does have a swimsuit for some reason…)

builds a structurally sound sandcastle that’s over four feet tall with a moat and working sand traps

everyone who walks by is completely awed by her sand guillotine 

accidentally squashes some poor kids sand castle and is DEVASTATED over it

spends an hour with them trying to help them rebuild and buys them ice cream to make up for it

lets you wrap your arms around her neck so she can tow you around through the water

probably makes corny engine noises too

brings sunscreen and a hat but forgets about both of them and burns 

takes you to the shops along the coast and buys you the cutest souvenirs

and of course something for Mitzi

insists on buying the two of you dinner after at some nice restaurant with AC and good seafood

Junkerqueen:

are there even beaches in junkertown/junk city?

crazy good at beach volleyball

hanging out at the beach is not really her thing though—she’d much rather wakeboard or rent a jetski (with your credit card lmfao)

however if that’s not your thing, then she’ll suck it up to spend some time with you

probably swims in her jorts

spends her time swimming laps underwater and trying to scare you by brushing up against your legs

challenges every couple that comes near you guys to a game of chicken

you guys win every single time 

breaks at least 2 sandcastles and doesn’t even notice

brings you food and drinks periodically without you needing to ask

refuses to use sunscreen but somehow doesn’t even burn??

steals borrows someones floatie so she can tow you around on it through the water

“Faster, faster”

“Oh, you’re in for it now”

flips over the floatie with you still on it when she gets bored

but she buys you ice cream to make up for it

Summer Suntacular | Masterlist | Overwatch Masterlist

(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)

[the-kr8tor]

Once More to See You

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 8.4k

Synopsis: Like Alice in wonderland, you accidentally fall to another universe where everything is different from your universe, including your best friend, Hobie Brown. Will you be able to come home to your best friend before you get ripped apart molecule by molecule? Or will you fail and leave the love of your life wondering where you are for the rest of his life?

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, No specific physical description of the reader, CW Blood, CW violence, TW death, CW injury, CW vomit mention. Bestfriends to lovers (speedrun edition), established relationship, Hurt/comfort, Angst.

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Eyes almost crossed, back hunched and aching, you tinker at the tiny components of the inter dimensional watch Hobie started putting together. He brought it to you last night with a paper bag filled with your favourite takeout to bribe you in helping him. “It's for emergencies,” he said, “I don't trust that vampire from the future,” he grumbled in between bites of chips.

The soft music from your record player filters through the dimly lit room, save for your work lamp, the sun is just about setting in the horizon. You have the perfect view of the expansive London skyline just outside your window. It's a foggy day, clouds hanging above like cotton balls, fluffy and grey— rain's coming, you surmise from the unmistakable smell of petrichor. It's already raining somewhere, you think. And you worry immediately for him since he's still on patrol. Did he bring a raincoat with him at least? But knowing him, he'd just swing around while there's a downpour. And when you scold him while he's dripping wet, soaking your carpet, he'd just shrug and say, ‘I looked bloody good at it though’ to which you'd scoff, but secretly agree.

Distracted, you poke at the wrong wire with your metal pliers, a spark from the main power source shocks you, flinching and yelping, you check for any damages on your fingertips.

“Should've worn rubber gloves, love.” Hobie's sudden whisper in your ear makes you jump out of the stool, goosebumps appearing on your arms as he catches you before you land harshly on your back. “Got you. Maybe you should invent seatbelts on barstools, hm? You'd make a fortune from pubs alone. No more drunkards falling face first.” He jokes, arm snaked along your back, hand splayed over your ribs, and face dangerously close to your own.

You decide to quip back as revenge for making you almost fall. “I would invent it if you weren't dropping so many projects on my lap.” Still floating above the floors with the help from his hold, he fakes letting you go. You squeak, hands instinctively flying to his shoulders for support. Maybe you shouldn't have teased him when he's the only one standing between you and a bump on your head. “You little—”

He raises a pierced brow, “what'd you say again, love?” His mischievous smirk tells you that he's about to do it again, so you surrender. How could you fight him when he looks at you like you're the only person in the world that's worthy of his touch?

Lips clamping down, you still glare at him despite the overwhelming fondness for the man holding you in place.

“That's what I thought.” Chuckling, he sits you upright back on the stool, he even fixes your shirt for you. “There, lookin' mighty fit today, why are you all dressed up?”

It's your turn to quirk an eyebrow, “dressed up? Hobs I basically live in this shirt.” He unabashedly roams his eyes over to the old band shirt that he made himself once upon a time. “Bold of you to assume I have some place to go.” You say even with the searing heat from your cheeks, and clammy hands.

“We could go,” Hobie shrugs, hiding his sudden shyness, you have that effect on him. “There's a new building we could swing to, if we go now we could still catch the sunset.” He inches closer, hand smoothing down the goosebumps on your arms.

“It's gonna rain, Hobs.”

“How'd you know? You a weather girl now?”

“I can smell it, and also my knees feel it.”

“What are you eighty?” He says with a laugh. “Does that make you a cradle snatcher?” Half joking, he really wishes that you'd get the hint.

Eleven years of friendship and counting, you still haven't crossed that invisible line between friendship and something more. It's not from the lack of trying from Hobie's end, no, he has told you a few times that he fancied you, more than a best friend would. But you're too afraid to say it back, to say or even scream that you fancy him, or love him is the better way to put it. But you're afraid that it might not work out, that friendship is the best thing for the both of you, that all the longing looks thrown between you, and all the lingering touches were all just attraction because you've known each other for basically forever; and the feeling wouldn't last once you do get together.

You don't want to risk your friendship only for it to end in tears and heartache. No, you love him too much to hurt him like that, and he knows it too.

He was more bold with his feelings for you a few years before, years before he was bitten and was given the heavy responsibilities. But now that he bears the title of Spider-man, he's starting to think having a romantic relationship with you while he's tangled up in all the danger he faces everyday, isn't such a great idea. So his advances are much less now, Hobie just misses you, he suppose, that's probably why he asked for your help with his own batch of watches even though he can handle it on his own while he's blindfolded. An excuse to just see you, an excuse to be in your presence. Because if you can't be together, he'd settle for staying like this forever, just best friends.

Best friends who unequivocally love each other, best friends who are waiting for the right time. Even if it means waiting for forever.

You smile softly, knowing that his joke is a half wish. “That means you're a coffin snatcher then.”

Hobie leans closer, hands on top of your table that's behind you, arms caging you in. You can smell the leather on him, and the usual scent he sports when he's particularly in a good mood. You'd know, you gifted the cologne to him. He thinks you're uncomfortable because of the position, he was about to move away but you remedy that with a smile, and with your hand placed on the back of his elbow. He can feel how your pulse hammers against your skin.

“C’mon, love, the view's pretty up there.” His view right now can't compare though.

“I can see the view from here, besides, I still have work to do.”

He tilts his head, an act he knows you can't resist. “I’ll swing you back home quicker than you can say ‘cougar’” you laugh, eyes crinkling in the corners, and he thinks your smile is better than any sunset he has ever seen. “You've been cooped up in here for too long. When was the last time you've seen the sun—?” You open your mouth for a quip but he beats you to it, “not including seeing it from your windows.” Nodding, he raises both eyebrows, looking at you through his long lashes.

For a moment he thought you'd agree, that you bought into his charms. But you clear your throat, moving away, lips tightly closed like you refuse to spill any secrets. Or spill out a confession. I don't want to ruin this, you think, if I go, what would happen up there? Your mind runs through a thousand scenarios, a consequence of your genius mind. It's not all good, you suppose, and you're sure that whatever happens on top of that skyscraper, you'll never come back from it.

You love him, you really do, but he has a heavy burden to carry. You don't want to add to it. Leaning to the side, still sitting on the stool, he instinctively hovers his hand close to your side, just in case you fall off again.

“I fixed the problem on your watch by the way.” Changing the subject is good, changing the subject means you don't have to face reality.

“Yeah?” He acts nonchalant, yet, there's a lump in his throat that threatens to choke him. It's not all your fault, he thinks. All the tiptoeing around each other, all the heavy side glances aren't all your fault, it's his too. He might've faced a hundred or so dangers but he can't seem to find the courage to finally say those three magic words. Jaw tightening, he's not mad at you, he's mad at himself.

“Your initial power source didn't have enough juice. Hence why it can't generate the right particles for inter dimensional travel.”

Hobie leans on the table, hand still close to your waist, eyes roaming intently at your handiwork. You're good, too good at making these watches, even better than Miguel could be. Or he's just biased. You made it look good too, even with the hodgepodge of materials he gave you.

“You figured that out in less than twenty four hours?” He's in awe of you, he could've thought of that, but it would've taken him a tad longer. “Fuckin' brilliant,” he says under his breath.

You raise your chin proudly, “I did, it was easy-peasy.” It was not, you barely slept because you couldn't sleep not while this huge glaring problem sits at your work table. If it needs fixing, you're gonna get it fixed within the day or you think you'll crumble into dust. Especially if it's Hobie asking for help.

Hobie beams, he's incredibly proud of you, but, “you crossed your lines, love. If you want me to catch on fire then you did it brilliantly.”

“What?” Your smug smile melts, eyes scanning the colourful wires. Shoulders sagging, you glare at him. “No, it's not.”

“Yes it is,” chuckling, he takes your hand to guide and point it out for you. “Right there. Between the cooling system and the red wires.”

Eyes narrowed, nose wrinkling, he smiles at your cute expression. “I can't see— oh.” You see it, the mess of wires lies just under the new power source that you were so proud of. “Fuck.”

“You owe me,” Hobie pokes your side.

“No, I don't. Not all of us have super eyesight.”

“Really? Blamin’ my poor eyes?” Hobie widens his hazel eyes, brilliant swirls of colours mesmerize you.

“Your eyes are far from poor.” You shove his face away from you gently, smiling, you laugh at his fake glare. “Don't you have to patrol, spiderman?”

He surrenders, huffing, he takes his mask from his back pocket to put it back on his head. “Fine, just make sure to fix your wires, I don't want to come back to a crater the next time I visit.”

“I'll uncross them, don't worry. I'm not an amateur, y'know.”

Hobie pats your shoulder for now, maybe he'll pay you a visit again tonight just to make sure your flat didn't turn into ashes. You call him back before he could exit through your fire escape.

“Be careful, please?” Your worried tone makes him turn back around to face you. You imagine that he's at least smiling under his mask. “Just…I have no idea what to do with your watch if you suddenly croak.”

“Always so bloody sweet,” walking back towards you, he grins even though you can't see it. Your worries make you reach towards him. Holding him by the lapels of his leather jacket, you trace the little stitches he made. His spider senses tingle, and he hears how your heart quickens. “I'll be fine, yeah? Don't worry ‘bout me.”

“You know I'll always worry.” You whisper.

“I know, I'm like that too when it comes to you.” Your breath hitches in your throat. He shuts his senses down so he can't hear how fast your pulse thumps, or how you weakly swallow down your nerves. “Why don't I come back here tonight, ease that genius mind of yours.” He pokes your forehead, you nod. “Good, I'll bring takeout, that isn't instant ramen. Seriously, love, that shit ain't good for you.”

“It's tasty though.”

“You'll get kidney stones.” He begins to walk backwards, so he could still see your face as he goes. For some reason, he doesn't want to go. But he suppose that he always has this feeling whenever he visits.

“I've got a clean kidney,” you softly smile, waving goodbye, hoping that he comes back to you in one piece just like always.

“Sure you do,” one leg after the other, he exits from the window until you're staring into your open window and until his lingering scent fades.

“Right,” you sigh, slapping your cheeks to stay in the present, then turning around to continue your work.

For an hour you painstakingly untangle the wires with your tweezers, minutes turn into hours, and your empty stomach grumbles. Lower back aching once again. For a second you're just about finishing it, then a spark lights up, then a blinding explosion of colours.

You should've worn rubber gloves.

—

Hobie swings casually towards your flat, it's a lot harder to swing with one hand while the other holds onto the plastic bag filled with your favourite. Smiling under his mask, wind blowing towards him, buildings whizz past as he increases his speed.

The smell of smoke hits his nose. Then puffs of black tar greets him where your flat used to be.

Heart in his stomach. He lands on the pavement less gracefully, the bag slipping through his trembling fingers.

A crowd watches on at the burning building, pieces of glass lay under his boots, crunching as he stands frozen on the spot. His eyes roam for your familiar face, around the people that watch the blaze, grief curls around his throat when he doesn't find you amidst the throng of strangers. It slowly suffocates him.

Your name spills out of his lips, hoping with every utterance of your name you'll emerge unscathed. He feels dizzy.

A firefighter notices him. Hope blossoms in his chest when Hobie turns towards the uniformed man. But the forlorn face the man sports under the soot covering his skin says it all. “There's no survivors!” He yells above the sirens, Hobie crumbles to his feet. “There's no survivors. You're too late, Spiderman.”

He's too late. His ears ring, he could only hear the crackling of the fire whilst it eats away at you. Charred wood collapses, nose stinging from the smoke, vision blurry as tears silently fall.

You're gone. And all that's left of you are ashes that float down towards him like grotesque snowflakes. Sticking to his suit, heat clinging to his skin.

It's too soon, he had a lifetime with you. A sudden burst of rain pelts at him. You were right, rain was coming.

He should've tried harder to convince you to go out.

—

A swirl of neon colours whizz past as you fall into the kaleidoscope depths. Scream stuck in your throat, hand stinging from how you grip the watch, or what's left of it. It's now in your hand, jagged metal pieces piercing your skin. There's a light at the end of the tunnel, bracing yourself, you fall on the harsh concrete. The portal spits you out feet first, skidding across, body tumbling on the ground. You're otherwise unharmed despite the harsh landing.

Eyes adjusting in the light, you blink rapidly, shielding your eyesight from the intense sun.

Wait, the sun? Wasn't it sunset a few minutes ago?

Sitting up, you roam your eyes around where you landed. The familiar London skyline is to your right, while on your left are buildings you can't seem to recognize no matter how you try to remember.

“I don't think I'm in Kansas anymore.” You say, full of bewilderment. The watch worked, but in the way you wanted it to.

The roof where you landed on is dirty, full of abandoned broken furniture. Pots upon pots of dead plants stacked on top of the other. Good thing there isn't any broken glass or you'd be bleeding.

Propping yourself up, you stand up on two wobbly feet. Stomach churning, vision warbling, you think you're about to be sick. You can't believe Hobie does this on a daily basis.

You inhale sharply, trying to compose yourself and the instant ramen in your stomach. “Oh fuck.” Exhaling, you calm yourself down. Heart finally steadying to a normal rhythm, you sigh before you check the remains of the cracked watch in your hand. “Shit!” The broken pieces fall off from your palm as you look at it. “I'm fucked!”

Like a child throwing a tantrum, you kick a cardboard box, it soars across the roof. Groaning loudly, you stomp on the ground as if it was its fault that you're in another dimension.

You felt it before it happened. Something spreads inside you, like a bolt of lightning has struck you. The sensation starts from the crown of your head to your fingertips, goosebumps appearing on your skin, you glitch for only a second but it's enough to give you motion sickness.

“Oh my fuck—!” A blast from behind you reverberates, wind rushing around you, whipping your searing skin. “What the—?”

If being stuck in an alternative universe wasn't enough, a guy wearing huge mechanical wings is approaching you quickly. Too quickly.

Before you could duck, the cackling vulture grabs you from the roof. Lifting you up, the whiplash from his momentum almost breaks your neck.

“Got you!” He laughs in your ears, metallic claws digging into your biceps. A black slithering blob weaves around his bicep, crawling up to your own like a slimy worm.

“What the hell, old man!” You scream above the noisy exhaust of his wings. “Let me go! I was literally just standing there!”

He clicks his tongue, like he's chastising a child. “No, no, no, not until he gives me what I want. Then I'll think about letting you go, but it's a long drop.”

“Who—?” As he says the word ‘drop’ you look down, vertigo making you nauseous. You must be a hundred feet above the streets. You wish Hobie was here to save you. Tears in your eyes, panic sets in, making your hands tremble and your chest desperately heave in air.

A flash of red and black, a harsh crack of bone, and a splash of something warm on your cheek, you fall from the vulture’s hold.

Gasping, reaching for something, anything to hold onto, you get snatched up before you turn into a bloody street pancake.

A strong arm envelops you as you hug tighter, face hiding away from the harsh winds. Clinging onto the stranger, they seem oddly familiar under your touch. They smell familiar too, like your nose is so used to it that you can recognize it above anything else. Leather and bergamot, the scent he wears when he's in a good mood.

You raise your head to take a peek at your savior. The spikes on his head are dark and swirly, like an evil unicorn's horn. They don't shine in the sunlight anymore, it's the same deep shade as his mask. He no longer bears the resemblance of your Hobie. He feels like him, smells like him, even the warmth spreading to you is the same. There's a deep familiarity, yet, there's something amiss.

“Hobie?” You call, and when he shifts his head to gaze at you, his grip loosens.

Craning his neck down, the eyes of his mask widens. “Y/N?” He breathlessly asks, arm sliding off from shock. “Shit!”

“Hobie!” Briefly falling, he catches you immediately. You both land on a roof, his arms are around you, hand shielding your head from the collision as you both slide across the terracotta roof. Eyes closed, you hide your face on his chest as he bears the impact for you.

Hobie groans, glad that he's wearing leather that helped with lessening his injuries from the awkward fall. Opening his eyes, he thinks he has died when he sees your face look back at him.

Expression etched into worry, you check for any injuries on his body. You get a good look at his suit, it's different, way different than you saw him last. The only thing that stayed the same is his old leather vest, but it looks like it's more well worn than the last time you've seen it. There's marks on the leather, and holes where it's not supposed to be in. You'd mend it for him like always, but there's more pressing matters.

Hobie reaches for you, black cloth enveloping and swirling around his toned arms, showing a bit of his scarred skin. You don't miss how his hands tremble as he holds your face in his calloused hands. It's all familiar to you, yet, his hands are more rugged, rougher, but you know it's him. You could recognize his touch anywhere.

“Did the vulture finally get me?” You raise an eyebrow at his question. The heaviness in his chest slowly fades for the first time in years, he wants to tell you everything, to hold you forever in his arms until all the holes in his heart are filled by you once more. His thumbs wipe the crimson off of your cheek, an instinct of his.

“W-what?” You shake your head, and he relishes at the sound of your voice. The same voice he has only heard in your old voicemails that he plays before going to bed. “I think you have a concussion, Hobs.” Gently, you reach for his mask, he stops you before you could lift it away.

“Hobs,” he chuckles weakly, “I haven't heard of that name in years.”

You know this isn't your Hobie but you can't help but sympathize with him, you can hear the sadness and hurt laced with his deeper tone. You'd ask, but it isn't your place. Literally.

Hobie sits up with a groan, back cracking, the sound making you wince. “Sounds like you need to stretch more.” You joke.

He laughs, his mind tricks him, making him think of all the teasing you've said to him once upon a time.

“I think my back is beyond saving by just stretching.” Head leaning on his elbow, arm propped up by his knee, he still can't wrap his mind around your existence. “Which dimension did you come from?”

You straighten your back, lips curling into a smile. “How'd you know I'm not from here?”

Hobie reaches for his mask, for a moment he pauses. Still, with an apprehensive tug, he takes off his mask. Shock and confusion is evident in your expression. Reminding him of the time when he told you he was Spider-Man all those years ago.

“You're…old.” A hundred questions flood your mind at the sight of his crow’s feet that decorates his eyes. He has smile lines around his mouth, he still has piercings but there's less of them now. His hair is graying, patches of grey that weave around his locs. Under the wear of time on his face, you could recognize that face amidst a thousand faces. It's Hobie, but not your Hobie. “Definitely not in Kansas anymore.”

He chuckles deeply, he misses that humour of yours. “You look how I remember.” he whispers, you could barely hear his words.

You knit your eyebrows together. “Did I travel to the future instead of a different dimension?” The same sensation passes through you, rattling your bones and wracking your senses. You glitch once again. Stomach churning, you cough out harshly.

Shaking his head, Hobie stands up then he gives you a hand. “Not time travel,” you take his hand weakly, lifting you up, he worries for you. “Definitely from another universe. Come with me to the safehouse and we'll fix your watch, yeah?”

Nodding, you trust him completely. “Okay, just to remind you though, don't jostle me around too much—”

“You get motion sick from web swingin’, I know, I remember.” His heart aches, and you can see it hidden behind his hazel eyes.

—

After swinging across the city, and with you fighting the bile rising to your throat, you two finally make it to his safehouse that's masquerading as an old laundromat. You and older Hobie enter from the back door, and another door greets you, all thick steel and seemingly bullet proof.

He enters a set of codes on the numpad that you didn't notice until he was pressing numbers in. You don't bring out the fact that the passcode was your birthday.

The door beeps, an indication that it's unlocked. He looks at you over his shoulder, smiling softly at your nervous eyes.

“Stay behind me, yeah? Don't mind the lads. Or the whispers.”

“Whispers? Why would they gossip about me?”

“Nothin'” he turns back around. “Just stay close to me.”

“Okay, I wasn't planning to wander anyway, it looks like a small house so—” just as you say it, a long staircase leading down to what looks like the abyss makes you think otherwise. “Are you evil Hobie? You planning on bringing me to your little house of horrors to kill me?”

“Are you part of the sinister six?” He asks flatly, slightly enjoying the banter.

“No—”

“Then you've got nothin’ to worry ‘bout.” Hobie continues to walk down the stairs, heavy boots thudding against the concrete with every footstep. Darkness surrounds him quickly, you could only see the outline of him under the dark. He notices the way you stay on top of the stairs, hands wringing together. “I've got a torch if you're scared—”

“Yes!” You exclaim too fast. “I mean, sure, yeah.” He doesn't tease, for that you silently thank him. You hear a click, and then a torch coming from a gadget on his arm lights the way. “Thanks,” you whisper, finally catching up with him.

The stairs lead you down further, with only Hobie's torch guiding the way, you subtly hold the hem of his vest. If he minded, he never said anything. Ears popping, another door greets you at the end.

Hobie knocks, a rhythm that you can't quite place. A panel on the door slides open, a pair of eyes roams over to Hobie's face and then to yours. Brown eyes widening at the sight of you, they close the panel, then they open the metal door with a creak. Light escapes from the opening, and you shield your eyes from the sudden brightness.

“Holy fucking shit,” a female voice exclaims. Their cadence is full of surprise, and somewhat breathless. “W-what— how?”

“She's not from here,” Hobie explains, almost sounding forlorn at his own words.

Your eyes finally adjust, and you see an older Yuri gawking at you. She has aged well and gracefully, you think, as she sports the lighter hair with confidence and wrinkles barely noticeable.

“Yuri?” You still ask even though you're ninety nine percent sure that it's her.

“The one and only, gorgeous.” Without thinking, she drags you inside, pulling you in for a hug. You heard her sniffle, and you felt how her shoulders relaxed just from the hug alone. So you let her embrace you, with your hand awkwardly rubbing in an attempt to soothe her. Pulling away, she holds you at arm's length. She pats your shoulder, smoothing your sleeves, “still gorgeous, and still unfair.” Snorting, she lets you go, turning towards your companion. “Gwen's been waiting for you.”

Hobie gets flung back to the present, the simple sight of Yuri hugging you has brought him to the past, back when everything was better.

You stare at him, and he knows there's a lot of questions swimming in that genius mind of yours. He nods once wordlessly, not trusting his own mouth to form coherent words right now.

You follow him just as he instructed, Yuri reluctantly lets you go. Your nails dig into your sweaty palms, and eyes restlessly looking around the safe house. The place is expansive, walls high up, and when you look down, you see weathered tiles that have cracked from time. There's a train track in the middle, and you realize it's an old metro station. Instead of advertisements and train schedules on the walls, you see several monitors hanging on it, thousands of wires running through all of them, beeping and buzzing coming out of the computers. There's also weapon racks littered around the place, large and something that looks like it came from a sci-fi film.

There's a lot of people running around, all clad in the same style as Hobie. Leather, chains and metal spikes all adorning their forms. You quickly look away whenever you pass a stranger who widens their eyes at the sight of you.

Tugging at Hobie's vest, you peer at him. “Why does everyone give me that same look? And who's Gwen?”

He doesn't stop his strides, “Gwen's a friend, she knows you, kind of.” He decides to tease you. Maybe it's his brain trying to compensate for the time he hasn't done it. “Why? You jealous? Green eyed monster rearing its ugly mug?”

You scoff with a playful smile. “Technically, I don't know you, so…” his smile wavers, “there's no way I'd be jealous. Also you're…old.” His smile returns, there's a question that suddenly pops in your mind. “Are we a thing here?” You suppose you should ask just to get it away, and this isn't even the same Hobie back home so you don't lose anything by asking.

His face flattens, something passes by his eyes and he turns away. “Don't worry ‘bout it.”

“That's not answering my question, or any of my questions—”

“Gwen.” Hobie passes by you without sparing you a glance.

He enters a large open space that is full of computers and screens that blink and beep. There's a dozen or so people that walk around the area, all looking frazzled and tired. It looks like a command center of some sorts. A stranger bumps into you, accidentally shoving you by your shoulder.

“Sorry, I—” The man stops in his tracks, it's Ned, or at least this universe's version of Ned. The wrinkles around his eyes and white hair says that he must've been the same age as this Hobie. The clipboard in his hand falls from his grasp, eyes wide and watery, he gasps. “Y/N—”

Hobie appears next to you, “yeah it's her, Ned.”

“B-but…she's—”

Hobie shakes his head, wordlessly having a conversation with his best friend. “We'll talk later, I promise.” He softens his voice. The interaction has you more confused. They have a stare down with you caught in the middle.

You give Ned an apologetic smile. Crouching, you take the fallen clipboard, giving it back to him. “Here, sorry for bumping into you.”

His hand trembles as he takes it. “It's okay, I gotta go.” Rushing, he leaves you and Hobie.

“Is he okay? Please don't tell me you're working him to the bone.” You scold him.

“No, you know I'll never do that.”

“Just like I said, I technically don't know you.” Exasperated from all the dodging Hobie has done, you walk away and towards the command center where a large table sits in the middle and in-between a huge screen.

Hobie has forgotten has stubborn you can be, following behind you, he can already see Gwen looking furious just standing next to the table, all menacing like.

“Hobie, what the fuck did you do?” The sudden angry tone makes your skin jump, kind of reminding you of your days back in school. “Have you finally lost your damn mind?” The blond woman gestures towards you.

There's red streaks in her braided hair, clothes perfectly suited to her form. She stands out from the rest, she looks sporty in her varsity jacket and white trainers. But of course she wears a pair of leather pants and an old band shirt that says ‘fuck getting fridged!’ You have no idea what that means.

Before she could blow a gasket, you explain yourself. “It's not time travel actually,” you say, voice faltering once you notice all eyes are on you. “It's interdimensional travel— on accident! I didn't mean to.”

Gwen crosses her arms over her chest, “you a spiderperson? Do you answer to Miguel?”

“No, not a spiderperson, just some idiot who made a huge mistake by trying to make her own watch because my best friend asked me to.” You take the broken watch from your pocket to place it on the table. “See? I broke it.”

“Your Hobie asked you to help him?” Older Hobie asks, you nod, his eyes flick over to you and then the bracelet. “Sounds like something I would do.” He whispers to himself.

“Wait, you don't have a watch on you anymore? Then—” Gwen starts but your glitching interrupts her.

It was only two seconds but you felt like your insides were being ripped apart, and your eyeballs were getting scooped out by a spoon. Heaving, hands gripping on the table for balance, you cough loudly as Hobie pats your back.

“Motherfucker—! That one was worse than the last one.” You almost choke on your own spit. “Goddamnit.”

“I was about to ask why you're not glitching, I guess I got my answer.” Gwen hands you a water bottle. “Here.” Turning towards Hobie, who's already picking apart the bracelet, she sternly calls for his attention. “What do you plan with her?”

“Fix her watch then let her stay because she's Y/N.” He nonchalantly says, lying through his teeth to rile up his already mad right hand woman.

“Your real plan, Hobie.” She taps her foot impatiently, you still wonder what his words meant. “We don't have the time or the resources to help her right now. Especially when our little machine still hasn't turned on.”

“Would you rather have her molecules ripped apart or spare a few parts so she could go home?” Hobie places his hands on top of the table, eyes narrowed, challenging Gwen. Whilst you take in his words. “Our main focus still hasn't changed, she's a guest and if we don't help her she will die.” Inhaling, he continues, “you heard her, she has someone to go back too. Someone who's lookin' for her. Do you really want him to experience that kind of—” he stops after feeling your eyes on him. He clears his throat. “We'll help her fix the watch, it'll take me a few hours to finish it and we'll still be on schedule for the attack.”

You set aside your oncoming demise to ask him about ‘the attack’. “Schedule for what?”

Gwen visibly relaxes from your gaze, you surmise that this universe’s you has history with her. “We're gonna take down Osborn once and for all.”

You knit your brows together. “You haven't done that yet?”

Gwen and Hobie blinks in surprise, intrigued, everyone else who wasn't already eavesdropping looks at you expectantly.

“What do you mean ‘haven't?’” Gwen asks, eyebrow raised.

“We already did that in our dimension a few years ago. I still have a few scars from it.”

Hobie cranes his neck towards Gwen, hazel eyes suddenly forlorn, shoulders heavy, and jaw tightening. “You succeeded?”

It all hits you, they've failed in where you and your friends have succeeded. You gained where they've lost, and you feel for their pain, you for*his suffering. You now know why he gave you that look the first time he saw you.

Composing yourself, even though your chest feels heavy, you still act as if their revelation doesn't bother you, when it has impacted you like you're the one who lost. “Y-yeah, I mean everyone helped a lot. I just did the best I can.” You scratch the back of your neck, “we had this thing that can cripple the symbiote inside his men—”

Gwen takes out a small circular device from her pocket. “Like this?”

You shake your head, “no, we just hooked a bunch of amplifiers around the area and Hobie and his band played really fucking loud. My ears ring just thinking about it.”

“Yeah we all know about them hating loud sounds but that didn't work for us before.” Gwen and Hobie's hopes are dashed. “And after all the tries, we stopped trying that method.”

“Why don't you guys ask for help with spider society? I'm sure—”

Hobie cuts you off, scowling at his feet. “I did, I asked for help. And what did that vampire from 2099 say?” He grows frustrated, knuckles shaking, eyes looking away from you. “He refused, saying that no one could intervene. That this was my canon event, and if anybody helped that it'll put the multiverse into dangerous territory.” Shaking his head, the man before shows up, and Hobie turns away from him. “It's bullshit, that's why I left.”

“We did find out why sound doesn't disable the symbiotes. Osborn made some kind of shield around them.” Gwen pipes up, shifting the conversation before Hobie gets angrier from the mere mention of Miguel.

“Like armor?” You ask.

“Yes, it's invisible to the naked eye. Thanks to Hobie, we finally found their Achilles heel. If only we could get this damn device to work then we'll be free of him and his regime.” She continues.

“Maybe I can help—”

“No,” Hobie quickly says, hurt in his eyes, he avoids yours. “No, I'll get your watch fixed up and you can go.”

“But I may be able to help—”

“No,” he emphasizes, with a shaky breath, he calls for Yuri. “Take her to the extra room,” instructing Yuri, she smiles at you apologetically. “Stay there until your watch is fixed.”

“She might be right—” Gwen starts but Hobie ignores her.

You glitch once again, stomach turning inside out, this time you feel like your skin is being ripped away. Eyes rolling on the back of your head, head spiralling. The next thing you know, you're laying on top of a hard mattress. Groaning, vision adjusting, you sit up carefully.

Your eyes adjust to the dim light hanging above, a single light bulb that swings from a draft seeping out of a crack in the wall. The room is small, barely even fitting the single bed. Walls of grey concrete surround you on all sides, there's a few posters on the walls that are tacked lopsidedly. They're all worn down, like they're older than you from the looks of the fading ink. A singular guitar sits at the corner, black and cherry red, hundreds of stickers are placed on it, adding to the roses that are painted all over it. It screams Hobie, but not your Hobie. Just sitting on his bed makes you miss him, even though you know they are not the same.

Stretching your aching neck from awkward angles it was put through because of the glitching, you spot a polaroid picture sticking out from under the pillow. You don't want to be nosy, but seeing your own face smile at you has you reaching for the photograph.

It's you, but not you exactly. Your face is the same, clothes you can't recognize. The only thing you can recognize is the way you hold onto Hobie. This universe's Hobie. Cheek pressed on his own, mirrored smiles on both your lips, his arm around your waist, pulling you close as if you'd fade away. And your arms enveloping around him like you're shielding him from harm. There's one detail that jumps at you with how yellowed the paper is and how crumpled the corners are, you're both incredibly young.

“Oh,” There had been signs, and this now confirms it.

You look at the steel door as if you had x-ray vision, as if you can see through it and see the Hobie that this version of you had loved once upon a dimly lit pub where the polaroid was taken.

Placing the picture back where you found it, you test your shaky legs. You make it two steps before you start glitching out, tumbling towards the door, forehead pressed on the cold steel, you heave dryly.

There's tears in your eyes when you open the door. Silence greets you, the air is cold and stagnant, the lights that were blinking at you earlier are now dim enough that you have to feel your way towards the concrete hallway and out into the warm light. Your hands glide along the almost frozen walls, rough sandy concrete hitting your palms like sandpaper. Footsteps quiet to not rouse the sleeping crew.

Finally making it out, lungs cool, and teeth chattering, you feel sicker by the minute. Hobie stands next to the large console, back towards you. Metals clicking and grinding against each other, Hobie doesn't look over his shoulder from your presence.

You knock on the wall to not startle him and ruin his work. Hobie finally cranes his neck to look at you, shoulders tensed and eyebrows knitted together in either frustration or concentration.

“You okay?” You ask, voice echoing in the vast room.

“I should be askin’ you that.” He goes back to the table, immediately tinkering.

“Well, are you?”

“You're stubborn.”

“My best quality.”

You hear him softly chuckle thanks to the silence hanging in the air. Walking closer, you smile at the sight of his rubber gloves that protect his hands.

“So?” You ask again.

“Never better.” He flatly says, eyes focused on putting your watch together.

“Why'd you leave the society?”

“Thought you were smart?”

“I am, and a consequence of that is being utterly curious.”

Hobie sighs but doesn't stop working. “Creative differences.”

“Ah, I knew it. You and my Hobie would get along well.” Your words trail off when you see the same spherical tech sitting next to him. “Is that the thing you can't figure out?”

He spares it a glance. “Yeah, the bane of my existence.”

You go around him to look at it closely. Eyes narrowed, arms tucked, you lean closer. “I think—” you grab it before Hobie could stop you. The glitching must've taken a toll in your critical thinking because you crack it open like an egg in your hands. “That's your problem.”

“What the fuck?” He says breathlessly, almost yelling, eyes wide, hands already grabbing the tech to fix it. “What is wrong with you?”

“Thin shell.”

“We've established that you have a thin skull—”

“Rude, but I'm talking about that.” You point at the sphere while Hobie's cradling it like a baby. “the shell is too thin,” you take half of it, pointing out its faults. “See? You need to make the shell a bit thicker, put a pressure plate so that—”

Hobie has a growing smile. “When it's thrown it automatically turns on. With the thicker shell it can withstand it and with it helps distribute the energy more evenly. Shutting all the shields down around its vicinity without needing to push a button.” His eyes widen with realization with every word he says that you already know of. “That way we can arm every rebel with a hundred of these and take down Osborn's venoms without risking close combat. Fuckin' brilliant.” He looks at you in wonder. Embarrassment flickers in his eyes, he should've thought of that, yet, he didn't. You might not be his Y/N but you're worthy of her name.

“Sometimes the easier solution is the best.” Your next sentence has your hands shaking, he notices. “Was your Y/N as brilliant as me?” You finally ask.

Hobie's cheery face falls, “She was smart, but not that brilliant. Her bravery makes up for it.”

“I'm sorry.” Tears stick to your lashes, heart aching for the man before you.

“You are curious.” After years without you, he still has no idea how to respond to those exact words. “How you feelin’?”

“Me?”

“Finding out a version of you is dead must be fuckin' weird.”

You shake your head. “I first thought that I'd see an old wrinkly me.” A half joke. You smile at him to make him feel better, but with how forlorn those hazel eyes are, you might've made it all worse. You weren't lying, you wanted to see a glimpse of your future, but finding out the version of you here is long dead doesn't compare to the feeling of losing someone you've known for years, loved even. “It's terrifying, but it doesn't compare to how hurt you must be. Losing her, I mean.”

He didn't see you grow old. He didn't experience growing old with you.

Hobie clears his throat, “I know you're not her.”

“And I know you're not him. But it looks like we both share the same feelings for them respectively.”

“That obvious?”

“Hobie once told me that in every universe there's always someone for Spider-Man. So yes, it's obvious.” You give him an empathetic smile. “How'd you know it's the same for me?” For us?

“You talk about him like how I talk about her. Takes one to know one, love.” He holds your hand briefly, like it was acting on an old instinct. “Have you told him? How much you're bloody smitten? I have a feelin’ you haven't.”

You nervously chuckle, hands fiddling with a loose screw on the table. “Nope.”

“Let me guess, waitin’ for the right time? Scared of what would happen in the long run?” He says knowingly.

You don't look him in the eyes. “Yeah.”

Something flashes behind Hobie's eyes, after a beat of silence, he finally speaks. “She died protectin’ my crew, did you know that? She died protectin' me, and how do I thank her? Years of failing, years of fighting and we've only come close but never winning in the end.” Hobie sniffs, head raised to look at the graffiti painted on the ceiling. “If i just told her that I loved her, I would've had more time with her. Instead, I was a coward, all those years wasted because I'm a coward.” Hobie finally looks at you, the warm light from the lamp lights the trapped tears in his eyes. “Don't wait for the right time.”

You shake your head, heart clenching at the sight. “I don't think all those years were wasted. You loved her quietly, and I think she did too. Time spent together isn't wasted, just like your silent love. Love is never wasted.”

He smiles softly, the resemblance of a younger Hobie is etched under the small smile. “You would know.”

“I would know,” you smile back. Trepidation hangs around your neck like a two ton steel necklace. “How would I know that he feels the same way? What if it doesn't work out? Or worse, reject me?”

“His loss,” Hobie grins, a genuine one that you haven't seen this version of him sport. It's the only thing you need for reassurance. “But I highly doubt that will happen.”

Nodding, you feel determination where the heaviness once resided. “I'll tell him when I get back. I promise.” You say wholeheartedly.

“You better, don't make the same choices I did.” Hobie holds your hands like how someone holds a feather, gentle and kind. “At least I got to see her one last time, eh, love? A bit younger but beggars can't be choosers.” You feel something heavy on your wrist. Looking down, you see a working watch. Hobie slyly put it on you, it even has your dimension already keyed in on the screen. You look back at him, mouth slightly agape. “Too much power, that was the problem. Sometimes the easier solution is the best.” You laugh at him using your own words against you.

“Thank you, do me a favour?”

“Tit for tat, huh?”

You giggle, then you face him seriously. “Crush Osborne. Fucking decimate him. Or I'll come back and bring the cavalry.”

Hobie's finger ghosts above the button. “You know where to find me, love.”

“And you know where I am.” You smile as the portal opens behind you. A gust of air breezes past you, eyelashes fluttering in the wind, a kaleidoscope of colors dancing on Hobie's face, illuminating his hopeful eyes. “I'm serious, if you need help—”

He slides his hands away from yours. “Go home, Y/N, your Hobie is lookin' for you.” With the mention of him, you give him one last smile for him to remember. You take a step back and fall back into the portal.

—

You fall unceremoniously on the wet pavement, body crashing on a pile of discarded boxes and metal trash cans. The crashing sound would've startled anybody and would have their attention, but no one seems to pay you mind as everyone stares at the ashy remnants of your flat. Groaning, you slap your forehead because of your stupidity. You feel relieved because you seem to be home. Everything seems to be in place, and everything seems to be normal.

“Fucking idiot.” You whisper breathlessly at the sight of your charred flat. Your relief gets washed away when you see Hobie in his suit kneeling down in agony whilst bystanders watch on in grief. Your eyes flick over to him and back to your flat, then back to him.

His shoulders are shaking, head in his hands, nails digging into his mask. You'd yell his name if not for the crowd. Instead, you walk to him, legs still wobbly but getting steady with every step. Soon enough, before you could make your presence known with your hand reaching for his shoulder, he moves his head so fast that you're afraid that his neck would snap. The eyes of his mask widens, standing up, he grabs you lightning quick.

Arms holding you close, you feel his warmth as he slides his hand to your pulse. Hobie sighs in relief, even laughing as he slots his face in the crook of your neck.

You mirror him, hands kneading on his back, telling him you're back and you're not going anywhere with the simple touch.

“I thought— where—?” he starts, but you press your lips on his cheek. He practically freezes in place even with his mask acting as a barrier.

“I love you,” you confess, just as promised, and truthfully. “I love you—!” In a half second after the words are uttered, he swings you both effortlessly on a rooftop, away from prying eyes.

Hobie steadies you on your feet, mask discarded in a heartbeat. “You mean it?”

“Of course I do.” You don't miss the sight of his tear stained cheeks. Your hands reach for him, thumbs rubbing softly on each cheek. “I love you, Hobie.”

“Good, then you don't mind me doin' this?” The warmth of his hand seeps through his gloves, that won't do, so he takes his gloves off to feel you. His bare hand is on your nape, the other is placed on your waist, fingers tapping on your skin lovingly.

You already know what he's asking. “Nope, not at all—”

With an inhale, he closes the distance, kissing you, taking your breath away.

You've fulfilled your promise.

Support banner by @/cafekitsune

[turcott3]

Happy 1st

trevor zegras x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, kissing, smut, unprotected sex, oral f receiving

masterlist

this is for my dear dear friend @kawhh ! i love you so much and im so blessed to have called you a friend for a whole year. many kisses for you!!

-

“just a few more steps.” trevor says in your ear as he covers your eyes, walking down toward the beach on your tropical vacation. one that’d you’d been waiting for for months.

“are we almost there?” you giggle as he stops in his tracks.

“yes.” he says, uncovering your eyes.

“oh my gosh.” you gasp as you observed the sight in front of you. a beach cabana day bed, converted to a romantic, rose and candle covered, date night.

“do you like it?” he asks.

“like it? trevor, i love it.” you reply, hugging the boy tightly.

“oh good, i had to bribe the hell out of the resort workers to let me do this.” he giggles as you pull him by his hand to the bed. the bed had an array of your favorite foods and snacks, all in front of you as you faced the sunset.

“this doesn’t even feel real.” you giggle, taking a bite of a snack.

“do you want me to pinch you?” he asks as he pinches you on the arm.

“definitely real.” you smile as he leans over to kiss you, which you gladly accept.

“how long can we be out here?”

“they said till sunrise.” he replies as you get comfortable cuddled up on his side.

“oh wow, definitely won’t be out here that long.”

“no just until it’s dark, maybe after something. i don’t know.” he says looking away jokingly.

“trevor.” you say firmly.

“what? can you blame me? i mean look around.” he says and you laugh.

“baby i was joking.”

“okay good.”

“can i tell you a secret?” you ask and he nods. you dig your fingers discreetly in his pocket, pulling out the condom and holding it up.

“this.” you say.

“what about it?” he asks before you toss it behind you.

“wha-“

“i don’t want you to use it anymore.” you cut him off.

“why?”

“because. i mean im on birth control, we’ve been together for a whole year. id say it’s fair to you. i know its not as good when you have it on. its kind of unfair to make you keep using them when we’ve been together this long.” you say taking your fingers through his hair.

“i feel like id sound like a dick if i say thank you so i mean it in an endearing way.” he laughs pulling you to him as he presses kisses all over your face.

“also you just littered.” he says nodding behind you.

“of course trevor. you know i love you. i want you to enjoy it like i can. and i’ll grab it on our way back okay?” you laugh.

“good, i can’t make them regret this.” he says. those were his last words before grabbing your face and smashing his lips onto yours intensely.

you knew exactly where this moment was headed and you weren’t mad about it.

one thing about trevor is he knew exactly how to treat you. he knew EXACTLY how to get you there, maybe even two or three times.

he started tugging on the skirt of your tight dress, keeping his lips locked on yours as he pulled it up, only separating your lips to pull it over your head. your surprise for him was a step out of the comfort zone for you. no bra, no panties.

when he finally pulled away he slid off the day bed, discarding his clothes quickly (without falling) and kneeling down in the sand, pulling you by your ankles to the edge.

“i’ve been waiting all day for this.” he says lowly, kissing up your inner thigh straight to your core, your back arching at the intense sensation he gave you.

“oh my god.” you whine, keeping your voice low in case there were people in earshot. his hands gripped tightly on the outside of your thighs as he twisted your swollen bud with his tongue, locking eyes with you, driving you even more insane. if there was one thing about him, he knew exactly what your weaknesses were.

you felt yourself creeping closer to an orgasm each second. your breaths became broken and shallow as your orgasm rammed into high gear. you squeezed your eyes shut as it flooded through your body, your thighs lightly squeezing the boys head before he pulled away, wiping his face with his arm with a smirk.

“that was so fucking good.” you say breathlessly as he crawls over you, reconnecting your lips once again. he jerked himself hard hovering over you, waiting for you to be ready.

“the real question is, are you ready?” you ask with a light giggle. all he does is laugh in return, shoving his cock into you unexpectedly. your head shooting forward at the quick change in feeling. you lazily flopped your arms around his back as his thrusts began. they were slow and calculated. you felt every inch of his throbbing cock as he thrusted in and out of you at a steady pace.

“fuck. feels so fucking good.” he groans above you before you reconnect your lips again.

“does it? show me.” you say on his lips. he pulls away locking eyes with you, snapping his hips into you, the sound of your skin colliding as loud as a real clap.

“fuck.” you moan as he pulls your legs over his shoulders, giving him better access. instantly he picks up his pace, drilling into you relentlessly, still being very thorough with his movements, one of his hands finding their way to your clit.

“doing so good baby, taking me so well.” he smirks as your mascara began to run with the euphoric tears that left your eyes. you were immediately overstimulated. he was stretching you out like never before, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix with every thrust, brushing your g-spot without fail.

“oh my god, never been s-so fucking deep trevor.” you say, your hands finding anything possible to grip on. you could feel your second orgasm creeping closer to the forefront but you wanted to hold off for him, so maybe he could enjoy it a little bit longer. your fingers gripped onto the boys hair as he brought his lips to your neck, your moans snapping up the octave once he found the most perfect angle.

“trevor, shit i’m gonna cum.” you moan in his ear, you could feel his breath as he giggled in the crook of your neck. a sense of relief came once the second wave finally hit. you saw a whole galaxy behind your eyelids this time.

“i think im getting there. where where?” he replies.

“in me trevor, in me.” you reply in a moan. at this point you figured you’d gained a breeding kink in one raw session.

you’d never been fucked like this a day in your life.

he fucked you all the way through your high, which you continued moaning through, because how could you not.

“i’m so fucking close.” he grunts, his thrusts becoming more spastic and uneven. you felt his dick twitch inside you before your pussy was coated in his warm, milky climax. he continued thrusting into you until you’d milked him dry.

“holy hell.” he whispers, pulling out of your milky core.

“god where did that come from?” you giggle.

“i don’t even know honestly. that was so fucking good. god i’m so in love with you.” he says rolling over and pulling you onto his chest.

“happy first anniversary my love.” you say, a light smile spreading across your cheeks.

“happy first baby, i couldn’t possibly love you more.” he replies.

“awe stop.” you reply smacking his chest as he pressed kisses from your forehead to your lips.

“so you think we should maybe get ready to go back or?” he starts.

“no, i wanna stay here. i never wanna leave this moment.” you reply, laying your head over his heart, that beated calmly just for you.

very rarely was trevor ever serious about anything in his life, but if there was one thing he knew, is that he was more than serious about you.

you laid for a few hours out on the day bed, feeing each other strawberries and various other snacks from the board that survived the bomb sex you just had. you were smitten with him, which you truly never expected from him. you were more than surprised, you were honored. but most importantly, you knew more than ever that you loved him, more and more every single day out of the 365 in the year.

[blogkitty09]

Look, it's Whitepaw! How could anyone not vote for the older version of this little kitty! He's smiling!

About the cats:

"Spiderdrape, he/him or ze/hir. Theyre from a roleplay I was in a while ago and was part of a clan, AbyssClan, that lived underground on an island. They had glowing marking that they got for milestones in their life, and he was originally a warrior but became an artisan (one of the cats who designed and painted the markings). He's old as hell and a big loner. He's schizophrenic which doesn't help his social skills but he's generally pretty content with his life. He's always paranoid about rogues invading but aside from self assigned patrols he can't do much about it. He's just a weirdo who's made more offputting by mental illness. (by the way— im psychotic so this isnt like. a mean spirited caricature its based on my own experiences. thought id clarify just in case!)"

-@4usrhacidae

"His name is Whitewater, his pronouns are he/him, he currently resides as a ghost, but once was the medicine cat of my clan, TimberClan. It all starts when Whitewater was barely born, his dad (Silktail) died to injuries caused by a fox, unable to be saved. This causes his already harsh (mentally not okay either) mother (Chipmunkstar) to become even worse, insisting Whitewater and his sisters (Redmorning, Yellowscale) become the toughest warriors ever. But Whitewater would much rather be a medicine cat, a topic his mother would constantly argue with him about. Eventually, with Tabbythroat and Mambashadow's help, he is able to get apprenticed under them, but his mother now wants nothing to do with him. Whitewater continues to try to impress his mother, but nothing ever works. Throughout his tries, he meets Sunset, a calico molly whose twolegs abandoned her. And they become friends, bonding over their shared experiences, eventually developing crushes on eachother. It all goes wrong when Chipmunkstar finds out. She launches herself at Sunset, attacking the poor girl. When Whitewater tries to intervene, he ends up getting caught in her claws, but it's enough for Sunset to escape. She hisses at him for talking to an 'intruder' and storms away. Whitewater sits there and finally snaps. He realizes his mother doesn't love him. And he vows to kill her for what she's done to him. First it's the poison, he tries stuffing deathberries in her prey, but it is the Deputy (Redwoodclaw) that eats it and dies. Next comes the tree, he tries to push it onto her, but only catches the end of her tail. Then the rogues, he pays them in healing services to kill her, but ends up killng Heatherleap and Fallowwave. Next the dogs, who he leads to camp, but BogClan is called for help and he ends up getting their leader (Civetstar) killed instead. Finally, Whitewater decides to just kill her with his own claws. And he does so, when they are alone. But his sisters walk in on him, and in grief and rage they attack him. Whitewater is baffled how his own sisters would do such a thing over their mother, and rage on how they don see why this is good drives him to attack right back. But he is unfortunately killed, floating away in the nearby river. But, he refuses to go down without revenge, so he finds Sunset and convinces her to conduct a spell that would allow him to pilot his own body again. Once she does so, and they have a happy reunion, they become mates because they still love eachother. Whitewater goes back to terrorize and kill more cats but is eventually put to rest by his sisters again. Now he wanders outside clan territory with Sunset as a ghost again, doing their thing."

-@blogkitty09

[mossyvil]

Omg congrats on the milestone! For the very cute fluff alphabet may I have H, J, E, N, S, F, M, and L (leona)

love him

Hold: how physically affectionate are they?

he’s actually very clingy! it gets worse when he’s sleepy cuz he wants to use you as a pillow, but even when he isn’t he likes to be touching you in some way. hand holding is an easy way for him to get his affection, so he’s usually doing that or he has his tail wrapped around your wrist when he’s unable to hold your hand

Jealousy: are they jealous? what things set them off?

leona is pretty confident in your relationship. it stems more from his trust in you than anything, he knows for certain you would never betray him for someone else, so he really has no reason to get jealous. if someone is obviously flirting with you and doesn’t take the hint that you’re not interested he absolutely will get them to leave you alone, but that’s just because he wants to make sure you’re comfortable

Everything: what do you mean to them?

leona has a really hard time expressing himself, so he doesn’t talk too much about how much you mean to him. on the inside though, he’s so grateful to the universe that he’s lucky enough to call you his partner. you make him feel appreciated, and remind him that he’s worth taking care of himself- without you he doesn’t know where he’d be, and he doesn’t like to think about a world without you

Night: how do they spend their nights with you?

he’s asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow lol. he will wait for you to get into bed with him before going to sleep but he’s OUT and dead to the world until morning. when he’s sleeping you can pet him and hear him purr without him being grumpy so that’s a plus!

Sad: how do they make you feel better?

he’s really bad at comforting people with words, so he does it through his actions and showing you that he’s there even if he won’t say it. he makes sure you’ve eaten and gets you some water, and turns on a movie or show to take your mind off of it while he gives you a back rub to help ease any physical tension you might have

Fiancé: do they want to get married? if so, how do they propose and what is their wedding like?

he does want to get married, but he wants to keep it very private and away from the big affairs that the royal family usually have. he proposes while you’re sight seeing in the sunset savanna, he wants to do it in his home country, but he makes sure it’s just the two of you on a small cliff with a gorgeous view to watch the sunset. the wedding is very small with just his family and your friends, and it isn’t announced to the public to make sure it stays quiet

Mornings: how do they spend mornings with you?

it’s REALLY hard to get him to get out of bed in the morning, and usually you have to bribe him with breakfast. it’s important to him to eat with you, to him it’s a time just spent between the two of you before your day gets hectic- not that leona’s days are busy, but he likes how domestic it is to start his day with you

Love: when do they say I love you for the first time?

it takes him a while to actually say that he loves you. there’s a mutual understanding in the relationship that you both love each other despite not saying it out loud. on the first of your birthdays that you spend together as a couple, he gives you the gift he got for you, which is incredibly well thought out and meaningful, and tells you that he loves you, and wishes you a happy birthday

[gabbytbll]

Maeve x Female Reader

✄𝑴𝑨𝑬𝑽𝑬 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝑺✯ 18+

NSFW MDNI!!!

Authors note: I hope you love this Anon! you said to pick and i picked my queen Maeve eheh but anyways! there will be mistakes and i did just start this show and I love it a lot so far so please bare with me she will be OOC! also this is Maeve in season 1 or 2!

Masterlist 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭

she was never with Elena!

Warnings!: angst, crying, hurt reader, homophobia, lesbian sex, rough sex, strap on, blindfolds, making out, fingering, praise, manhandling, jealousy, sex toys, filming, worship, spanking, DOM Maeve!!, voyeurism, Human reader, Maeve is trying!, HOMELANDER!!! (yes, he is a warning)

SFW!

♤ She loves you a lot, so she is very scared for you to get hurt from her or anyone else.

♤ Before the both of you got into a relationship you both meet by you working at Vought on one of the lower floors and you bumped into her.

♤ She didn't like you for a while until you kept seeing each other on accident (it wasn't she was curious of you because she thought you looked cute for a human).

♤ As the both of you started to get to know each other you both started to hang out more at the Vought tower secretly.

♤ You were the first to confess to her thinking she didn't like you (she does, she just don't know what to do cause what if her reputation falls apart or home lander finds out).

♤ After you confessed to her she kind of distanced herself away from you because she thinks Homelander might find out and hurt you (but she hurt you more).

♤ When you got together you both promised you and her tell each other everything no secrets.

♤ She doesn't give affection to you in public because it hasn't been approved by Vought (she hasn't told them about you yet).

♤ She loves to cuddle you on the couch watching movies together after a hard day at work.

♤ She loves to wear matching shirts or matching with you in general whenever she goes undercover.

♤ While you're at work she loves to leave food at your desk secretly or she makes someone else give it to you using an excuse saying your family said give it to her while she was passing by.

♤ She has pictures taken of you up on her walls in her bedroom so that when she wakes up, she sees your beautiful face in the morning.

♤ When you and her finally went public the world loved it, it made you feel more free in your relationship.

♤ She loves PDA I'm talking making out in front of everyone just so they know you belong to her.

♤ She loves when you wear her hero suit, she thinks it looks hot on you (she just loves you wearing it her clothes in general).

♤ Homelander hates you for some reason (he doesn't like the both of you together because your both girls) he always tries to bribe you into breaking up with her or blackmail you (it never works).

♤ Maeve thinks you're the one for her, you make her so happy, and she feels free for once it's like she doesn't have to think about anything with you.

♤ She loves to go on sunset dates with a picnic, she has so many pictures of you in the sunset she says it's some of her favorite pictures she ever took.

𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒

•She loves to give you flowers

•She would get a tattoo of your name on her left thigh or arm

•She will marry you one day like she promised

•She loves to listen to music that reminds you of her

•You will always be her number 1 hero to her

both of y'all's song would be always forever I think

NSFW MDNI!!!

sexual content warning is advised

♧ I feel like she would be a hard Dom cause let's be honest here she is strong as hell and she would love to manhandle you.

♧ She loves how you sound in bed she is so obsessed with you.

♧ She has recording of you so she can always listen to it later (god forbid someone hacks her phone the only thing they are going to see is you and her together and your sex tapes).

♧ She hates when people flirt with you so she walks up to you and say something like I loved your moans last night, your pussy was tighter last night, etc. (she thinks you're too good for them plus she like the face that person makes when she says something dirty to you).

♧ She has a ton of sex toys she has a special secret room for sexual activities just for the both of you (it's scary).

♧ She has water, snacks, etc over to the side just in case you or her need anything.

♧ She is definitely a giver, sometimes she one gets you off just because she feels like you need it more than her.

♧ She loves to worship your body slowly as she fingers you with three fingers.

♧ She loves to make you masturbate Infront of you while she films you or just to watch you with a small smirk on her face because she knows it humiliates you.

♧ Oh she loves to blindfold you whenever she's in a good mood she likes to think it makes you feel more pleasure because you don't know what she's going to do to you next.

♧ She hates when you playfully flirt back with a guy you don't know, so when you get home, she makes you go to the playroom and strip and lay down over her knees so she can spank you as punishment.

♧ She loves to fuck you with her big pink dildo strap fast or slow it don't matter she just loves watching you squirm in pleasure.

♧ She loves to scissor you the most rather than fucking you with the strap on because she can feel you better against her (plus she gets more pleasure from it)

♧ She loves to manhandle you whenever she can in the bedroom, she thinks it's hot plus she can put u into any position she wants quicky.

𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒

•She has a small scar under her ribs

•She loves to give you hickeys

•Sometimes she plays sexy music in the bed

•One time you fuck in Vought's bathroom

•She has a mole on her right thigh

I hope this is good I kind of rushed this! but I want to say thank you to Anon for requesting this i had so much fun doing this!! make sure you like and comment i greatly appreciate it!!♡♡

Also I posted this early whoops☺

©️ gabbytbll. do not copy, repost, or translate across other sites. do not copy my sentence structures, plot or characterization.

[jollyfunvoid]

Bucci gang headcanons

Bruno Bucciarati

-Wes Andersson fan (his comfort movie is Grandhotel Budapest)

-fave era is roaring 20s (aesthetic & music wise)

-listens to electro swing, swing, jazz and blues

-has a very strong sweet tooth. His cravings are so extreme he is able to eat whole giant chocolate on one go and not gain a single kilogram. His favorite ice cream is stracciatella and his go to dessert is tiramisu. If you wanna bribe him, use sweets

-loves Golden Girls (Sofia is his favorite character)

-hardcore Eurovision fan, always prepares for the Eurovision weeks in advance, it's like a holiday for him

-brings small camera with him everywhere he goes, gets very emotional and sentimental when taking pictures, loves to keep all the memories

-shares an old record player with Abbacchio, they collects vinyl records together

-in charge of shared Netflix and Disney+ account

-has an ornamental lower back tattoo which matches the one he has on his chest. Has a lot of tattoos all over his body in general

-is very good at sailing and has a captain's licence. As a kid he used to be obsessed with pirates, he still lowkey fantasizes about life at sea

-surprisingly a very good dancer and hella skilled belly dancer. He is also very flexible

-Caterina Caselli number 1 fan

-drinks a lot of coffee, never starts a day without a cup of cappuccino

-obsessed with candles

-as a kid he used to build wooden ship models with his dad. Now as an adult he still does it sometimes, when he is not too busy

-bought himself a sewing machine because he is really into fashion and wanted to start making his own clothes. Isn't very good at it tho, his sewing skills are poor, so he always ends up zipping everything up with his stand and then acts like that's how the "sewn" piece is supposed to look like

-has a sweet melodic laugh

-extremely flirty, he is a snarky little shit who loves to tease others

-"Oh my god look at the sky! The colors are so beautifl!" *takes a picture* "And the clouds? Wow!" *takes another picture* "Guys, come look at the sunset!" *takes 20 more pictures*

-has a very low alcohol tolerance (3 glasses in and he is under the table)

-although he seems like a very well put together person, he is very messy and tends to misplace things, especially when he creates extra storage with zippers he can't find anything. He calls it "organized chaos"

-can easily sneak up on others, he just silently spawns out of nowhere. Is it his natural ability or is Sticky Fingers involved? No one knows

-is able to talk his way out of anything, uses his charm to his advantage a lot. Also the master of puppy eyes

-suffers from PTSD because of the attack on his father, that's why he always sleeps with a knife under his pillow. Everytime he hears noises in the middle on the night he gets paranoid that someone is hiding in or sneaking into his home with the intention of harming him and his love ones. When the panic attacks hit him really hard, he irrationally makes extra safety precautions, such as blocking doors with furniture or leaving the lights on. Also has trouble sleeping in unknown places because he feels vulnerable and exposed to potential dangers, he is always in a state of high alert.

-his favorite season is winter, he enjoys Christmas the most because he loves giving presents and being with his family. He definitely plays an old Ella Fitgerald vinyl records during Christmas time

Leone Abbacchio

-tea lover, his favorite is earl grey

-doesn't like sweets, however he enjoys dried fruit (especially figs)

-Narancia is his favorite kid

-movies enthusiast, has seen sooo many movies and is the biggest critic. He has a Letterboxd account where he writes reviews. Loves watching old horror movies the most because of the gothic aesthetic, but DC movies have a very special place in his heart

-hardcore Depeche Mode, Calabrese and London After Midnight fan

-goes jogging every morning

-after getting sober he tries to look after his diet more, thanks to Bruno

-knows a lot about occult stuff

-secretly watches RuPaul's drag race with Trish

-owns a motorcycle

-named his stand after Bruno's favorite music genre to honor everything Bruno has done for him

-takes very cold and brisk showers

-taught all the boys how to drive

-thanks to Mista he became a huge Gorillaz fan

-since Moody Blues doesn't have lips, she communicates with him via symbols on her digital forehead screen

-never puts down his headphones

-has a playlist for literally any occasion. Tends to gatekeep music, you have to be very special if he shows you his playlists. Has made a playlist for each member of the Bucci gang, the only one who knows is Bruno (Leone created him multiple playlists, they even have a shared one, which they play when they are alone)

-his skin is very prone to bruising

-Moody Blues also allows him to see fragments of the past when he touches various items, he is able to sense the overall vibe and emotions of their owner and the situation they were in while using the item.

-his clothes may be dark, but I know for a fact his socks and underwear are colorful af, wild patterns all over

-his favorite season is autumn, he loves rainy and foggy weather

-the biggest prankster of the group. Everyone thinks either Narancia or Mista are always responsible for the pranks, but it is actually Leone. No one ever suspects him, because he doesn't look like the type of guy who would enjoy such childish things. And thanks to his stoic appearance he always gets away with it.

-true crime podcast listener. Him and Fugo share this passion and often discuss their favorite podcast shows. Sometimes they watch detective movies together and bet on who will solve the mystery first

Pannacotta Fugo

-reads a lot of crime novels in his free time, always comes up with his own theories and tries to solve the case before the detective (got mistaken only once and couldn't get over it for a long time). His favorite author is Sebastian Fitzek

-loves watching cartoons and animated movies, because he didn't get to enjoy them as a child

-hates horror movies because of loud jumpscares, but doesn't mind gore

-drinking green tea helps him to calm down

-gets sunburnt easily

-either never gets ill, or is sick for several weeks straight

-developed not only respiratory, but also digestive problems because of Purpe Haze and feels nauseous a lot (also throws up very often)

-uses make up to cover his facial scars

-his skin is extremely dry

-has a very light sleep, he finds it extremely difficult to share room with others during missions (he is only able to fall asleep with either Bruno or Giorno because they are not noisy sleepers like the others)

-Sheila, Murolo and him have regular sleepovers and movie marathons. They also cook dinner together

-his favorite bands are System of a Down, Slipknot, Bad Omens and Motionless in White

-can't go on rides in amusement parks because he gets sick

-him and Abbacchio visit rage rooms regularly

-always carries a book with him

-chews a lot of bubblegum to release his anger

-everytime the gang travels abroad he is the one who has to translate everything since he knows many foreign languages. He speaks english, french, russian, spanish and norwegian fluently, his pronunciation is so spot on you could barely tell he is not a native speaker. Doesn't have an accent at all. Also knows basics of sign language and cyrillic alphabet. He uses these skills often in Italy too, when he gets approached by strangers on the streets he pretends he is a confused tourist who doesn't undertand italian

-gets overstimulated easily, he is especially sensitive to noises (suffers from misophonia)

-bites ice cream and ice

-"the book was better than the movie" type of person

-picky eater, very cautious with unfamiliar food

-takes extremely hot showers. Whenever he is in the bathroom it ends up looking like a sauna in there. Also the gang has an unwritten rule that if they share a room during a mission, Fugo can use the bathroom first because he hates feeling dirty and has to use the shower immediately, otherwise he will be grumpy and won't shut up about it

-has a nasty skin picking habit, which results in him picking patches of dry skin and scabbed-over cuts and scratches (many of his injuries never fully heal because of this)

-never leaves the house without a hand sanitizer

-fidgets with his hands a lot when he is anxious

-goes to bed first and also wakes up the first

Narancia Ghirga

-vegetarian

-convinced Abbacchio to watch Brooklyn 99 with him (although Leone didn't like it at first, they now binge watch it together). They also watched Breaking Bad and What We Do In The Shadows

-has heterochromia

-thinks Orange Capri Sun is the supreme flavor and refuses to drink any other flavor

-created a shared playlist for the squad, he blasts it everytime the gang travels somewhere (it mostly consist of EDM, trap, phonk and rap)

-always beats everyone in Just Dance game sessions

-wears mismatched socks

-somewhat good at drawing, has a very unique cartoon caricature-like style

-hardcore Marvel fan (loves Guardians of the Galaxy the most), argues with Abbacchio a lot because he likes DC

-Mista, Trish and him had a podcast at some point

-his favorite candy is Kinder Surprise

-makes paper airplanes when bored

-bites people he love

-cries when animal dies in a movie

-suffers from seasonal allergy

-sleeps with tiny Creeper and Enderman Minecraft plushies, he takes them everywhere and even made them an instagram account, where he shares random pictures of them. When someone from the gang goes on a separate mission, he gives one plushie to the group or the individual, so they wouldn't feel lonely. And they also take pictures of the plusie and send them to Narancia.

-speaking of Minecraft, he manages a server where the gang plays together. He even created custom skins for everyone which look like their stands. Since he is the only one without humanoid stand, his skin is Mr. Smith, the pilot or Aerosmith. He wears a jacket with a picture of his stand in the back

-he is afraid of doctors and doesn't like hospitals. Everytime he gets sick or injured, he gets very anxious about his health. He hates dentists the most.

-loves when Fugo reads to him because he has a very smooth audio-book-like voice when he is calm

-experimented with different hair dyes couple of times, Trish and Abbacchio helped him

-die hard South Park fan, quotes the show on daily basis

-steals everyone's clothes. Can't find a shirt? Narancia is wearing it. Your hoodie is missing? It's in Narancia's closet

-has sticky notes all over his room, because if he doesn't have something written down, he will most likely forget it

-surprisingly very strong, the only person from the gang he is not able to lift up is Leone

Giorno Giovanna

-his emotions effect his powers (different flowers grow around him or from his hair when he gets excited, angry or scared), however he manages to control and hide it well

-master builder in The Sims game; doesn't care about the gameplay as such, he just enjoys building the houses and spends hours decorating them. Fugo loves to join his gaming sessions, but he on the other hand doesn't care about the houses or decorations, his goal is to always kill as many sims as possible (he loves to play around with various gruesome mods, which Giorno secretly enjoys watching)

-walking cottage core moodboard aesthetic

-goes on a picnic at least 2 times a week. In general preferst to eat ouside, terrace or garden are his favorite places

-has a very complex skincare routine

-heist movies enthusiast

-Trish got him into astrology and tarot cards

-loves theatre and poetry, even tried to write some poems himself

-writes official Passione documents on typewriter

-installed beehives in the Passione mansion gardens and makes his own honey

-collects dried flowers

-is the best liar in the group

-a bug magnet, there is always some type of insect crawling on his clothes

-him and Fugo have library & bookshop dates, they also visit museums together and exchange random facts about nature. Nerds in love, what can I say

-caramel is his favorite ice cream and dessert toping

-has a small floral tattoo on his wrist

-autistic

-loves taking bubble baths

-takes part in any bet without hesitation, no matter how absurd it is

-very bad dancer, has no rythm, but he is the best singer from the group, his voice is angelic

-very rough driver; hits the breaks hard, pumps up the gas fast and does very sharp turns. Also drives hella fast

-learned how to differentiate the steps of other people (especially the fellow teammates, since they live together). This is an old habit from his childhood.

-he walks very quietly, others barely notice when he walks into a room or when he leaves

-hates the smell of cigarettes

-others think he has a very odd music taste, because he will be singing a song from a Disney movie and within a couple of minutes you can catch him vibing to Banshee. He is forbidden to play his music in the car because it consist of all kinds of genres it makes it almost uncomfortable to listen to. His fellow gang members say his playlists are inconsistent, but they just make sense to Giorno.

-speaking of music, he is a huge fan of Hozier, Die Antwoord, Ghostemane and Little Big

-very creative, his hobbies include all kinds of crafty ativities, such as sewing, embroidering, pottery making, felting, knitting, soap making, candle making…. you name it, if he can create something, he will. And he is very good at it

-extremely fascinated by venomous animals and poisonous plants. The deadlier the better. His obsession with killer plants led to him nicknaming Fugo "his aconito", because he associates the aconite flower with his stand (it disables nerves, lowers blood pressure, and can stop the heart, plus it's purple). His other favorite flowers associated with Fugo and Purple Haze are Nightshade, Love in a mist, Spider lily and Morning glory

-zones out a lot

-sleeps with dozens of pillows, when he sleeps he is literally burried under them

-when he gets overwhelmed he lights up an incense stick and it calms him down. He is very fond of nice smells.

Guido Mista

-enjoys shitty movies, especially buddy commedies and low budget rom coms. Abbacchio hates when Mista picks films for the movie nights. Bruno on the other hand loves it

-Adam Sandler number 1 fan

-signed up for an archery course, also tried to use crossbow at some point

-can fall asleep anywhere, snores very loud

-likes the weirdest food combinations (like ice cream and pickles and stuff), the type of person who eats fries with McFlurry

-kills bugs with Nerf guns, Giorno hates it

-plays airsoft and paintball in free time

-enjoys camping, rockclimbing and rafting. Outdoor activities are his thing

-hella superstitious, made up various rituals he repeats in order to avoid bad luck

-very religious, always says a prayer before every mission

-reggaeton is his favorite type of music

-idk why but him having diabetes makes so much sence, since Pistols have to eat regularly to keep his energy and sugar lvl. stable

-mayo is his go to dressing with everything (fries, hot dog, nachos...)

-him and Narancia have 1am fast food trips

-makes silly bets with others and always challenges them to do something stupid for money, Giorno is always the first one to participate

-the best hugger

-big brother energy, everytime the other teammates screw something up and are afraid to tell Bucciarati or Abbacchio, they go to Mista for advice. He is extremely responsible and can always keep his head clear in stressful situations

-claims to hate drama but is always down to listen to some fresh tea

-loves watching cooking competitions. He is always judging the contestants harder than Gordon Ramsay ever could, Abbacchio occasionally joins him because he finds it amusing

-whenever someone tells him "I love you" he replies "Ditto", referencing one of his favorite movies (Ghost, 1990)

[matchadobo]

KIDD; kidd being sweet

wc: 1653 summary: just wholesome shit warnings: afab reader, none

silently humming to yourself, you scrubbed the dishes with the sponge coated with foamy soap as it enveloped your hands with its froth. it was a normal day around the victoria, most of the crew had stayed in the dining hall to play cards, drink with the others, or just chat with everyone. it was your turn to do the dishes, you almost bribed others to do it but decided to get on with it. you really were looking forward to going to bed early, but that’s too bad.

to everyone’s surprise, including you, the door slammed open. you met your lover’s eyes as he had his usual scowl plastered on his pale ass face. you furrowed your brows, waiting for an explanation. he stood there for a while before giving everybody a glare and a grumble. it was an unspoken order to get the fuck out of the room so he can be alone with you. you sighed to yourself in endearment, shutting your eyes and letting a sigh out from your smiling lips.

soon enough, the hall cleared and he stomped his way towards you as his heels clicked under the woody floors. he met your eyes before making his way behind you and snaking his flesh arm around your waist. “’m tired.” he meekly greeted, a sigh following afterward when you felt him lean half of his weight to you as he placed his chin atop your head.

you chuckled softly, continuing on with your chore. “a little busy here, captain. mind letting me go?” you sardonically remarked despite leaning into his touch. he let you go with a grumble, leaning by the countertops beside you as he crossed his arms. “should’ve let the others do it, you’re the captain’s wife for fuck’s sake.” he clicked his tongue.

“that’s just childish now, isn’t it?” you finally finished as you dried your hands off with the towel hanging on the cabinet handle under the sink. “i’m done now, don’t get too pouty about it.” you teased, poking at his nose as he let out a huff of annoyance despite his flushed cheeks. “besides, i like doing it for the crew. it’s nice seeing them relax for a while.”

“thought being the mom was killer’s job.” he shifted his legs where you can fit between them as he pulled you closer by your hips. he leveled himself with you as the counter supported his weight.

“he doesn’t get enough credit for it, though.” you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck. “did you miss me that much?” you tilted your head, raising a brow.

“you have no idea.” he buried his face on the crook of your neck, reveling in your perfume. “i’d fuck you in here if i wanted to,” he whispered in your ear. despite being married for years, his low voice never fails to raise goosebumps across your skin. “but i don’t really need that right now.”

you jolted lightly in shock, looking down at his red mane of hair. “come with me to the bow.” he placed a kiss on your shoulder before letting you go and walking out of the room.

you heed to his request and followed him, the bright sunset almost blinded you as the breezy dusk of winter welcomed you. the salty scent of the sea wafted across your nose, a refreshing feeling that always puts you at ease.

he sat at the edge of his ship, feet hanging loosely as it submerged in the sea from time to time. you sat beside him, almost falling if it weren’t for his hand on your side. “is there something wrong, love?” you looked up at him, but all he did was lay his head down on your lap.

“don’t overthink it.” he brushed you off, “i just miss you.” he looked at you through his half-lidded eyes.

your face almost exploded from being too flushed, and you looked away with both of your palms hiding your face. “why’re you acting weird?” your sentence was muffled but it was enough to send him laughing.

you peeked behind your fingers at the joyous man before you, the reason behind his laughter was none other than you. “ah, fuckin’ hell. we’ve been married for years and you still can’t wipe that stupid flush in your cheeks when i’m around.” he said in between little laughs. “makes me wonder why i’m the goddamn same.”

you finally put your hands down and combed them through his relaxed crimson locks while the other was drawing shapes on his chest with your fingers. “just remember how you confessed like a mess back then, then you’ll know.” you teased.

he looked away, clicking his tongue again as he tried to hide the blush on his snowy cheeks. “yeah, and your cheeks were red as hell when i did. all you replied was random shit and then you started kissing me, right?”

“shut up.” you pressed your lips together, flicking his forehead. “we were both pretty dumb about each other back then, mostly you though.”

he grumbled as a reply, nuzzling himself closer to you. “i was like that cuz you’re making my goddamn head spin each time you look at me, it’s just fuckin’ different when you do.” he sincerely replied, covering the upper half of his face with his arm as it became immensely red. the golden ring on his finger that he made himself shone against the glistening shine of the setting sun.

“how’d it go again? you’re too fuckin’ pretty it’s pissin’ me off that all i wanted to do is kiss you and fuckin’ touch you and fuckin’ lo-”

before you could finish your sentence he pinned you to the ground. it all happened too fast but now, he was above you with that arrogant fucking grin you fell in love with. how he has complete power over you and how you are willing to heed all his commands. how his eyes shone as he studied how the red in your cheeks never disappeared but got more prominent at his actions.

“yeah? you were sayin’?” he leaned closer.

“-and you fuckin’ love me it makes you so crazy you’re choking on your saliva.” you finished, “the hell does that even mean?” you added while laughing and wiping the tears off your eyes, covering your face once more.

“dumb way of saying i love you, i guess.” he placed a kiss at the corner of your eyes where tears formed earlier.

“you were so cute then, god.” you smiled, holding his face between your hands.

“calling the pirate king cute ain’t cuttin’ it, lovely.” he got off you, sitting back as he gazed . “for the record, you were the one who was stutterin’ and shit, it’s goddamn adorable.”

kidd became more open when you two got married. maybe because of the ring, or maybe because he finally got serious with you. that fateful day where he finally had the balls to face you and tell you how he truly feels even though it’s still a puzzle to him how much you fucked him up. not in a bad way of course, if anything, you fucked him up so much he’d wanna change the world for you, much more his self. he wanted to make you know that he loves you, that he’d do anything for you. he’d want to let you hear his praises and insults, he’d want to let you hear how much you deserve the world, he’d want to say i love you to you and he’d always look forward to how your eyes brim with so much love the same way his does each time he looks at you. it sometimes catches you off guard when he just blurts out things about how he loves you.

“hm? that why you married me?” you sat up, leaning on his shoulder and brushing your fingers by his veiny arms.

“if there’s one brat i’d be more than willing to be stuck with for the rest of my life, it’d be you.”

“ah you’re making it hard for me to stop feeling hot.” you placed both of your hands on either side of your cheeks.

“ain’t my problem i turn you on.” he grinned over his shoulder, arrogantly looking down at you.

“it’s not even that!” you shuffled in your seat trying to regulate the heat in your cheeks. “have i ever told you that i’m very proud of you now that you’ve learned to say how you feel?”

“well, pretty stuff.” he tucked a hair behind your ear, flicking your forehead afterward. “you teach me some pretty things like that all the time, you been rubbin’ too much off of me.”

“i gotta get used to you being sappy, this is catching me off guard way too much.” you leaned back by your arms, looking at the sky.

“you gotta do better than that then.” he snarked, pulling himself up and walking towards your shared quarters. “i’m going to bed, come if you want to snuggle or some shit.”

you chased after him almost tripping over yourself. “what did you eat today, kidd? you’re so generous!”

“other than you, nothin’ out of the ordinary.” he said with a grin, letting you enter the room before him as he held the door wide open and watched you flush from head to toe. “i just enjoy seeing you all hung up on me.” he stared you down, pinning you against the door. “wanna take this to the bed?”

“i miss the sweet kidd, bring him back!”

“too bad he wants a quickie right now.”

and so the night went on loudly, filled with screams and moans of laughter and pleasure. your days were either filled with him being sweet or him being horny, one or the other, or maybe a combination. either way, you’d be in bliss with the love that is him.

wrote this half asleep, i miss him :(

[team-118]

don't wanna ruin the moment

790 words, buddie, pre-relationship/gen, 4×12 Treasure Hunt missing scene

Just Eddie, next to Buck on the freeway, windows down to let the night in. Just Eddie with a lot to smile about.

read it on ao3.

the lovely @queerweewoo and @userbuddie had tagged me for snippets in the past couple weeks and I'd had nothing to show, so this one's for y'all.

"Five hundred fifty-five thousand, five hundred fifty-five point five," Eddie says as he climbs into the jeep.

"Hm?" Buck backs out of the dark road they parked on, hand rested on the familiar spot behind the neck of the passenger seat. Eddie leans into it out of habit.

"The treasure. Five million divided by nine; it's five hundred fifty-five thousand, five hundred fifty-five point five."

Buck whistles lowly. "Well, it's not a million something-something, but it's better than nothing." He pulls the jeep into line behind Athena's car, waving at Hen and Chimney in his rearview.

"Mm. If we find it," Eddie sighs.

"We'll find it," Buck grins, confident, bordering cocky. "With the 118 on the job? Better watch out, Hollis Harcourt."

Eddie laughs. He rolls the window down, letting the cool night air rush into the car. Things have been heavy, lately - good, but heavy: getting Chris on board with Ana, Chris chartering an Uber and running off, but at least it was to Buck. This feels like home, wind against his cheeks and Buck next to him, sandwiched in the middle of the rest of the 118. Whatever else they find tonight, God, he's grateful to have this.

They drive in silence for a while, until Eddie starts fiddling with the bluetooth and Buck busts into laughter when he plays the Mission: Impossible theme. It's so stupid. Eddie's cheeks kind of ache from smiling.

"How'd you know that?" Buck asks, once he's calmed down.

"Know what?"

"That math thing."

"I know math," Eddie defends.

"Yeah, but five million divided by nine?"

"Mm. There's, like, a rule," Eddie muses. "Something like, if the number is divisible by 10, then dividing it by 9 is the first digit of that number a bunch of times, with one less place value."

Buck furrows his brows, like he’s trying to do it in his head.

"300 divided by 9 is 33.3. 400 divided by 4 is 44.4," Eddie shrugs. "I don't know, it was in Chris's math homework."

What Eddie doesn't bring up is that it was Ana who taught him that. That he'd kissed her on her couch, in between fourth grade math problems and bites of the dinner she'd made, and it had felt...nice, he guesses. Good. It's been a while since he's kissed anyone, and Shannon was only his second or third kiss, and Ana tasted so different but felt just the same. Cherry lips instead of strawberry, but still soft and warm. He still resisted the teenage urge to wipe his mouth on his hand afterwards.

But he doesn't mention it, because Buck would ask, and then his stupid lie about construction on Sunset would fall apart and Buck would know he's kissed someone and God, wouldn't that be weird? And anyway, that's not who he wants to be right now.

Not Eddie, maybe betraying Shannon's memory and maybe hurting his son and maybe not being the greatest boyfriend, after all this time. Just Eddie, next to Buck on the freeway, windows down to let the night in. Just Eddie with a lot to smile about.

"Almost there," Buck says finally, pulling Eddie out of his thoughts. "I think we beat the others by a bit. See, aren't you glad I drove?"

"I'm always glad when you drive," Eddie grins. "Saves me so much gas."

Buck reaches over the dash and flicks his temple. "Just for that, I'm taking half your cut."

"You wouldn't," Eddie gasps, mocking.

"Oh, yeah, freeloader," Buck teases. "And I'll use it to bribe Chris into teaching me your secret, mathematical ways."

"They're really not a secret. I could teach you, if you really wanted."

"Ah, but if my calculations are correct, your numbers are wrong," Buck says, swinging the Jeep through a sharp left into Harcourt's quiet neighborhood. He taps his nose knowingly, looks at Eddie, and smirks. "Five and above, you gotta round up. It should be point six."

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Semantics."

"Details! They're important," Buck insists as they pull into the driveway. "Math teachers can't tell you everything, you know. You'll still need me around."

Buck doesn’t know about that night, but he knows about Ana. Of course he does.

"I'll always need you around," Eddie tells him, probably a little more honestly than warranted. But then Buck is smiling over the parking brake, and that makes it worth it. Eddie holds eye contact until Hen's headlights appear in the rearview, and then he hops out.

"I mean," he says, grinning over the hood. "Who else is gonna drive me to the treasure?"

Then Eddie's own laughter is drowning out Buck's groan, and he grabs his best friend’s hand and pulls him to Hollis Harcourt's gate.

[apoemaday]

Two English Poems: II

by Jorge Luis Borges

What can I hold you with? I offer you lean streets, desperate sunsets, the moon of the jagged suburbs. I offer you the bitterness of a man who has looked long and long at the lonely moon. I offer you my ancestors, my dead men, the ghosts that living men have honoured in bronze: my father’s father killed in the frontier of Buenos Aires, two bullets through his lungs, bearded and dead, wrapped by his soldiers in the hide of a cow; my mother’s grandfather –just twentyfour–heading a charge of three hundred men in Peru, now ghosts on vanished horses. I offer you whatever insight my books may hold, whatever manliness or humour my life. I offer you the loyalty of a man who has never been loyal. I offer you that kernel of myself that I have saved, somehow–the central heart that deals not in words, traffics not with dreams, and is untouched by time, by joy, by adversities. I offer you the memory of a yellow rose seen at sunset, years before you were born. I offer you explanations of yourself, theories about yourself, authentic and surprising news of yourself. I can give you my loneliness, my darkness, the hunger of my heart; I am trying to bribe you with uncertainty, with danger, with defeat.