#there’s something so beautiful about change and what it can do to someone

[lexirosewrites]

Ficlet idea, designer Eddie and model Steve

OH NO OMFG this prompt was from a year and a half ago (September 2023) because i apparently wrote this whole thing and then accidentally lost it in my drafts😭😭😭 might as well post it now!

A New Muse

Eddie can’t say how he went from the Indiana trailer park to having his own collection at New York Fashion Week without explaining that things like that don’t usually happen to people like him.

Maybe it was the luck of being born an alpha. Or maybe it was just stupid fate.

Who knows? Certainly not him.

And although he’s been used to the lifestyle of excess and glamor for a while now, sometimes the world he lives in now still manages to amaze him.

All it took was a lucky break and his work being seen by the right people. Then he’d been whisked away to riches and fame, his name becoming known by every young adult in a matter of months.

Suffice to say that by this point, Eddie wasn’t overly surprised when he was asked to do a feature piece in a big time magazine. The editor had specifically requested for him to design a few grunge menswear outfits to be modeled alongside the article about his rise to success.

Eddie spent weeks grueling over his designs, making sure all his pieces were representative of the kind of work he does, but it was a struggle to create something that he was proud of and that would explain his vision of fashion.

The interview itself was simple enough, just a handful of questions by someone who already knew far too much about his life. They skirted around his less than pretty past and played up the rags to riches aspect that everyone loved to oversell when it comes to alphas.

And then came the photoshoot.

Eddie had been given measurements of an up-and-coming model who would be showcasing all of the designs. Supposedly, the guy was fine modeling both masculine and feminine clothing, so Eddie was able to keep his sizing consistent across the board.

The only mistake was that he was never given a photo of the model. Or told that he was an omega.

He had no clue that the model would be the most stunning man he’s ever seen.

“Hi, I’m Stevie,” the angle introduced himself with a dimpled smile and wide eyes. His scent dripping with sugary sweetness. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Eddie almost forgets to shake his hand, too enamored with the beautiful omega being presented to him on a platter. He recovers enough to slip his hand into the waiting one.

“I’m an alpha.”

That’s definitely not what he meant to say.

Steve chuckles, a soft charming little thing.

“Good to know. Do you have a name, alpha?”

Eddie’s tongue feels too big for his mouth. He might be drooling. He’s definitely lightheaded.

The omega called him alpha. He could be his alpha.

“Um, I’m so sorry! Eddie! It’s Eddie!” he spits out in a rush, attempting to recover from his temporary lapse in sanity.

Another angelic noise of amusement.

“You’re sweet, Eddie,” Steve tells him, sounding slightly forlorn about it. “But I can’t date a coworker.”

Eddie can practically feel his ears pin back against his head in disappointment like a kicked puppy.

“Oh. Right, yeah, no that makes sense. Smart idea. Gotta be careful when you’re a professional.” His voice is thin and unconvincing.

Being rejected by a perfect angel hurts more than he thought it would.

Steve’s perfectly plump lips turn upward slowly.

“But if you find me after the shoot when we’re not coworkers anymore, you can buy me coffee. That is… if you let go of my hand so I can do my job first.”

Jesus Christ.

Eddie had never let go of his hand.

He loosens his grip long enough for Steve to make it through the shoot and then he vows to never let go again.

They’re mated a year later, right before Steve changes his modeling demographic to maternity photoshoots instead.

And Eddie finds his lifelong muse.

[redsrooftopprincess]

Chills

Raphael xGN!Reader

The sound of the evening bustle transitions the city from day to night, seeming to herald the neon darkness, and you smile to yourself a little more with every streetlight that flickers on. If he isn't already, he'll be on his way soon, ascending with the darkness, rising like steam from the tunnels below. Up, over, and above the rooftops.

Standing at the window, looking out into the blooming night, you tug on the latch. It's easier to open now, the action smooth besides the slightest catch. You remember when it used to stick horribly. And you totally didn't use it as an excuse to keep him longer when you first met, why would you think that? But time, and an abundance of use, has left it opening easier these days. (Either that, or it's about to break. You may need to talk to Donnie about that.)

It's only been a week since you saw him last, both of you having been busy with work, and separately, both of you have been feeling the distance. Calls and texts can only do so much when your body is screaming for someone. There's this itch. This need. You'd been friends for a while, but a week ago everything changed.

It had been a normal night. Nothing out of the ordinary. It was your night off, and you'd been looking forward to it because it meant he'd be coming by on his "lunch break." You loved nights like this. When it was just the two of you on the rooftop in the wee hours of the morning. When even The City That Never Sleeps is quiet.

It was magical. Like you were alone in the world. In those small hours there was freedom. Unconstrained by propriety, acceptability, and expectation, you could just... exist for a little while, side-by-side with someone you know you're safe to just exist with. Being beside Raphael is like being in the eye of a hurricane. No matter what chaos is spinning around you, Raph is peace. Home. Clear skies, and safety. And that night, the weight of your gratitude pressed heavy on your chest.

It did that sometimes. He'd do something, or say something, or even apropos of nothing, your heart would swell and your chest would ache with something beautiful and profound, and you'd need to be close to him.

It's the feeling you'd always imagined having with... someone. This peace. This pain. This is what you'd been chasing in every failed relationship. It wasn't until recently that you realized you have a type. You're drawn to fire. To passion. The problem with that type, is that those that carry fire inside them... tend to be explosive.

The last one was a couple of months ago. You had to spend a good three hours trying to convince Raph not to kill the man who'd put his hands on you. In the end, he wheeled away, breathing, with only a broken spine.

You took a deep breath, exhaling into the night, and laying your head against his arm. He responded by sliding that hand around your waist, and pulling you closer. Not lifting from his arm, you turned your face upward to find him already looking down at you.

You can't help the smile that blooms across your features, "What?" you challenge, lifting your chin.

Usually, at this point, he would clap back with something sassy, or suck his teeth and look away, feigning indignation. But that night he just... looked at you. A quiet smile on his face, feeling his own flood of gratitude blooming in his chest, warming him from the inside out.

He'd always dreaded the day when he would fall in love, if it ever were to happen, that is. He knew it would hurt all the more because he couldn't act on it. But then you happened. He'd love to hate it. To hate you for making him feel it. But the day he realized he was in love with you, it didn't hurt. And he could act on it.

Maybe not fully. Maybe not entirely the way he wanted, but love is an action word, and he loved you every single day with every last piece of him. Calling you at work to make sure you'd eaten, walking you home, being there to pick up the pieces every single time someone or something tore you apart, Raphael loved you. Completely.

He couldn't hate it, or you. You'd come into his life and he'd let your light fill him, and warm him, and in the end he didn't care what you called it, or what it looked like, you were a part of his world and he was grateful. But some nights, like that night, his heart ached, heavy with all the love he could never give you.

His smile became almost sad, and he turned to look back out into the darkness. You saw it. You always did. The blue-black flicker of mourning set deep within his amber eyes. He couldn't hide. Not from you. You never mentioned it. Whatever it was, it was deep, and important, and belonged to him, and you had no right to know if he didn't want to tell you.

But, for some reason, that night, you couldn't bear it. Even if you couldn't help, he should at least know that you care. That you see him.

You sit up, pulling yourself from his arm and nigh hovering over the edge of the rooftop to face him. You reach up, gentle fingers brushing the side of his jaw "No really, what?"

He returned his gaze to yours, still wearing that sad smile. "Nothin'," I love you... "I just..." I love you... The blue-black in his eyes poured into you then, as he drew a deep breath, and his eyes softened as yours stung, "Nothin'." I love you...

He looked at you like the sun through a sewer grate. Like he longed to bask in you, but had convinced himself he was content with the smallest break in the shadows. Like that's all he was worthy of. It was the first time you saw it. Really saw it. Deep red in the blue-black, his own beating heart, and you.

Your fingers trailed down his jaw, and it was everything he could do not to lean into the touch. When they whispered over the scar on his lips, his eyes fell closed with a soft sigh. When his eyes opened again, they held a deep pain, and a question he was unworthy of asking.

He reached up and took your hand, his lips longing for the taste of your fingertips, and resisted the urge to kiss each one. His thumb bushed over your palm, and down your wrist, scattering gooseflesh down your arm and across your chest, as he held your gaze. He couldn't help it, the hand on your waist tightened and pulled you closer.

Every sweep of his thumb over your pulse drew shivers from your skin, and as he took notice, the question in his eyes became clearer.

I love you...

Will you let me...?

You held his gaze. You hadn't been looking for this. This feeling. This want. With every inferno that you'd allowed you consume you, you hadn't been chasing this.

You'd been chasing him.

And, your eyes held the impossible answer.

Yes.

The hand holding yours pulled you to him and the one around your waist pulled you up, as he captured your lips with his. Both of your arms looped round his neck and his hold on your waist tightened as he kissed you deeply over the edge of the rooftop.

Almost floating in free space, all you could feel was his body on yours, scales cooled by the night air sliding against bare flesh, he was all that tethered you to the earth. He usually was.

Opening to him, your tongues tangled in a dance older than time, and his hold tightened as a thunderstorm gathered in his chest. Every gasp and quiet sigh carried that storm into your own, as you pressed against him and his churr deepened.

It could have been a few minutes or an eternity, and it wouldn't have been long enough. You parted, foreheads pressed together, grinning, laughing breathlessly, in equal parts relief and disbelief. It was like breaking through surface tension. The weight of want had lifted, and you both were almost dizzy with the oxygen high.

Leo had called not long after, and it was like being dragged away by chariots, but, duty-bound, he went.

The sun now, officially, below the horizon you look out over the living room, almost nervous. Dinner and a movie. A pretty typical (if rare) night off for the two of you. But you'd taken your time getting ready, and power-cleaned the apartment, despite the fact that he basically lived there, anyway.

A soft landing overhead draws your eyes upwards. You clear your throat and pull it together so that the moths swarming in your stomach don't cause you to giggle like an idiot. You manage to scale it back to just a grin, the window slides open, and he lands, meeting your gaze with a soft and deadly smile.

"Hey."

....

...

Tag list

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @milykins

[oharaslove]

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝓅𝓉.𝟤

Summary: The story of Miguel's first and only love, you. A passage through the most significant moments of your relationship.

Tags/Warnings: pre!Spiderman Miguel x Civilian!Reader + Spider!Miguel x Civilian!Reader, fem!reader, fluff, smut (Minors don't interact, please)

Word count: 8k

Note: This is part 2 of a request!! I think you can read this as a one shot, but it would be better if you read the previous part (linked below). I also recommend listening to "Sugar"-Sleep Token, It is so good (mainly in the 'you know' scene).

<<Part1 || masterlist ||

𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓯𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷

After realising how he felt about you, Miguel tried to take a little distance. He was scared. Terrified even. He had never felt this. Never felt the need to, the urge, to make someone his.

 And that was what scared him. He was a total loser, how could someone like you want something with him?. You were perfect in his eyes, and he was far from it. You were probably experienced too, which he wasn’t. Miguel’s insecurities were at all time high. 

Besides, he couldn’t get the comments you had made the first time you met out of his head. You hated or at least disliked Valentine's day. So did he, not long ago. Damn, how things changed. 

Six months ago he dreaded the question: ‘There is someone special in your life?’, but now… 

You appeared in every thought. Your face materialised in the most random moments. If someone were to ask him that question today, his immediate answer would be yes, grinning from ear to ear. He would jump at any opportunity to talk about you.

Not every thought was happy, though. Miguel imagined countless scenarios where he came forward, pouring his heart out to you, and you didn’t feel the same way. Negative assumptions clouded his head day and night, leaving an empty feeling in his chest. He didn’t want to think about them, but there was always a voice on the back of his head tearing him down to pieces. Telling him he didn’t deserve you. He wasn’t enough. He would never be. 

His feelings were growing bigger and bigger, despite his attempts to keep them down. His chest would explode at any minute if he didn’t let them go. The words at the edge of his tongue, begging to come out. Every time he was close to you, so close he could smell your scent, which drove him crazy, he felt like throwing up. The air would be pushed out of his lungs every time you smiled at him. You stared at him with those beautiful eyes, fueling the idea that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same. 

That there was a possibility. 

It didn’t help that, due to the advances on both of your researches, you had to stay more time in the lab. Meaning, it was just the two of you, for hours on end. Many would say it was the perfect opportunity, but what if you said no? What if you secretly hated him? What if–

“Miguel?” you asked gently, moving closer to where he was standing. He had been staring off at the wall for at least five minutes, unmoving. He was barely blinking, and his hands were sweaty. “Are you okay?” you continued, moving even closer. 

Miguel instinctively took a step back, creating distance between the two of you. You were intoxicating. He shut his eyes hard, trying to clear his thoughts. While doing so, he missed the hurt look over your face. 

“Yeah, I… I am fine, don’t worry” he whispered. He clutched the edge of the table. Come on Miguel, take a grip on yourself. 

“Are you…, are you sure? You don’t look okay” You fidgeted with the hem of your sweater.

“Yes” he huffed. His breathing became more erratic. Miguel dropped his head, eyes remaining shut, hoping to block you off. 

But he couldn’t. 

He couldn’t tell you how much you affected him, even though he wished to. All he wanted was to hug you, make you feel how you made him feel. But no. He couldn’t. Shouldn’t. 

“Did I…” you began, your voice trembling. “Did I do something wrong?”. You sniffed, making Miguel open his eyes immediately and look at you. 

You were looking down. Tears streaming down your cheeks, despite your efforts to keep them at bay. Your hands, barely visible, pull at the end of your sweater, making yourself smaller. Trying to hide. 

Shit. “No no no” Miguel whispered, hurriedly walking towards you. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to hug you, but would that be alright? Or, should he just go for a supportive hand to the shoulder? So, that’s what he did. “You.. you did nothing wrong. Hey, please. Look at me” he mumbled, barely audible. Thankfully, he was closer than he realised. His mouth only inches away from the crown of your head. He was basically towering over you. 

You looked up. Teary eyes locking into his. Trembling lips mumbling incoherent things, a lot of ‘sorrys’ and ‘please’. Miguel’s heart broke. He had done this. Him. No one else. He was so focused on his own feelings, on not getting hurt, that he didn’t realise how his actions were affecting you.

“Shhh, it’s okay.” Miguel cooed, drawing figures with his thumb on your shoulder. Hand, that he noted, you hadn’t pushed away nor seemed uncomfortable about.  

You leaned into his touch. Your cheek grazing his hand, never breaking eye contact. Miguel’s eyes traveled from focusing on one eye to the other, to your nose, your mouth, everything. He wanted to memorize your face in case this was the end. While doing so, ever so lightly, his hand drifted upwards, caressing your cheek, without realising. 

You closed your eyes and hummed, enjoying the feeling. His hands were sweaty, but he was warm, and he smelled nice. Your breath slowed down, calming yourself. You nuzzled your cheek further. She’s adorable, Miguel thought, lost in how ethereal you were. His body moving on its own.  

Miguel's eyes went wide. A moment of clarity letting him be aware of his actions. He wanted to retreat his hand, stop touching you, but at the feeling of the slight pull movement from his hand, yours instinctively wrapped around his wrist gently, keeping him there. 

You opened your eyes slowly. Small droplets of water hanging from your lashes. Your eyes searched his, a message clear on them. Stay. “Please” you begged. Your words vibrated against his skin. Your cheek squeezed against his hand. Your eyes big, like a puppy begging for treats. 

Miguel left out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. His shoulders instantly relaxed. The worried lines on his face dissipated, and a small smile pulled at the edge of his lips. He didn’t want to leave, he would stay how and where you wanted for eternity. All you had to do was ask. 

He had a feeling this was the night, and the conversation wasn’t going to be short. So, better get comfortable. 

 “Come, sit” he said, retreating his hand slowly, trying not to startle you, before slightly bending down to grab the nearest stool behind you. He gently placed his hands against your shoulders guiding you down. 

You sat down, putting your feet on the bar and tugging them closer to your chest. Placing your chin on top of your knees. Miguel sat down in front of you, leaving a decent space between the two. 

Your eyes were still glassy from crying. Miguel felt like someone had just punched him in the gut. That someone being himself. He clenched his fists over his legs, grabbing the material of his trousers. How could he be so stupid?. 

¿Qué mierda me está pasando? Miguel muttered looking down. He was losing his head. (What the hell is happening to me)

“Are you sure you are okay?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, even though it was barely audible. Did he just say that aloud? His eyes shot to yours. You were curious, he could tell, and also scared. Of him, for him? He couldn’t tell, which made him anxious.

“I am sorry if I ever crossed the line” you continued, seeing that he wasn’t responding. “I-” You dropped your arms and placed your feet on the floor, getting more comfortable in the stool, breaking eye contact while doing so. 

“It was never my intention to make you uncomfortable.” You rubbed your face, cleaning the tears and pushing back the hair stuck on your cheeks. You looked down, placing your hands together over your legs. “I just thought that,” you shrugged your shoulders. “you liked me”. You looked up slowly, biting your lip. Your face  was a little turned away, looking at him softly, eager, but also scared by the response. 

Miguel’s eyes opened like plates. Like you? Like, like like you? He was stunned. Miguel couldn’t believe his ears. You liked him! This was the greatest moment of his–

“Or maybe it was all in my head, I don’t know” you continued, turning around on the stool, giving your back to him while you hugged yourself. Asshole. How long were you silent for?

“NO!” he shouted. His first instinct was to stand up and get closer to you. “No,” he said more calmly, collecting himself. 

You turned around slowly. Fresh new tears adorning your face. Slowly, but surely, Miguel reached for your cheek. His fingers made contact with your skin, immediately feeling your warmth. As soon as he felt you lean into it, he applied pressure caressing you, wiping the tears away. 

“I’m sorry.” He began. “I… I am a loser” Miguel scanned your face. He couldn’t back out now. 

“You don’t–” you wiped the side of your face with the back of your sleeve, still leaning onto his hand. ”Don’t seem like one to me” You placed your hand on top of his, melting into his touch.

“Maybe, but I am” He sighed, looking at your face. You were so beautiful. He needed to sit down. He could feel his whole body trembling. Miguel was nervous. Even more nervous than when he interviewed for Alchemax. He looked back, spotting the forgotten stool. He wasn’t leaving your touch again, so he reached with his foot and pulled it towards him. 

He sat down, much closer now, your legs brushing against each other. The proximity was exhilarating. He could smell your perfume. Feel your warmth under the palm of his hand. He could see the way your chest went up and down from your breathing. How your lashes gently touched the top of your cheeks every time you blinked. 

Miguel was charmed by you. If you told him you were a witch who had cast a spell on him, he would believe it. No doubt in his mind. 

Focus Miguel, he thought. This was a golden opportunity, and he couldn’t let it slip away. His eyes landed on his hand, gently stroking the skin of your cheek. You were so soft and warm. Miguel could feel your eyes staring at him, but he couldn’t look at them. Not now. He needed time to be bolder, to build the guts to pour his heart out to you. 

“Miguel” you whispered. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I understand.”

Miguel moved his hand, breaking away from your grasp. He moved down the curvature of your face. The back of his fingers leaving goosebumps in their way. He grabbed your chin gently, his thumb centimeters away from your lips. Hovering. Oh, how he wished he had the experience. The bravery. The audacity to just dive in and capture your lips with his. Say everything with his mouth that words couldn’t express. Tangle his tongue with yours instead of it tangling with the thoughts running through his head.

“I am a loser” he repeated, more serious this time. His focus remained on your lips. “I don’t know how to do this.” he confessed, his thumb finally making contact with the pout that had formed in your face. They were soft. They looked so kissable. He traced the shape of your mouth lightly, before using his fingers under your chin to angle your face towards his. 

His eyes finally gazed into yours. Your cheeks were redder now, skin warmer. “I’ve never done this” He whispered, inching closer. “All I know–” he gulped, looking down again, to your lips. “is that you drive me crazy. I like you, I really do”. Your noses were now brushing together. His breath fanning over your cheeks, gently moving your lashes.

His lips hovering over yours, too scared to make the final move. 

“Miguel” you pleaded, looking at him from your hooded eyes. Your mouth slightly agape. He looked up to your eyes again. There was a pause. Neither of you dared move. 

The tension was palpable in the air. Both your breaths united. Words weren’t needed in this moment, only actions. His eyes sent you a silent plea. A question. Permission to do what he wanted the most. You nodded softly, and that is all it took for him to take the leap. 

Miguel’s lips crush into yours softly. You closed your eyes, melting into his touch, and so did he. Your lips were softer than he had felt with his hands. He had done it! He was kissing you. But now, in the act, he didn’t know how far he could go. Miguel’s hand on your cheek froze, he was cupping your face lightly, but his grip faltered. 

You pulled back softly, creating distance. Miguel chased you with his lips, not wanting to let go yet. You giggled, as you moved back, staring at his cute face. It was all red and warm. His lips slightly parted, letting out puffs of air out. 

Miguel opened his eyes slowly, blinking, as in a trance. Miguel was met with your smile, that pretty smile he learnt to cherish and to look forward to. 

“It’s okay” you whispered, taking both of his hands and placing them in your waist. You shifted closer, the stool screeched against the floor. Your legs parted a little, leaving enough space for one of his own to settle there. 

You placed the palms of your hand over his chest. Your eyes trailed from his chest, to his neck, until your gazes met again. “I trust you.” you smiled. You dove back again, this time showing more confidence. 

As soon as your lips brushed against his, Miguel’s heart skipped a beat. Your hands travelled from his chest to his neck, while his were still locked around your waist. Every thought that miraculously was still in Miguel’s head, flew out of the window. All he could register was you.

 All of you. 

The way your lips brushed and pushed against his. How they slightly parted, little amounts of air leaving them, making contact against his skin. The way your hands were now playing with the curls on the back of his neck, twirling them around your fingers. Miguel groaned. The taste of you becoming unbearable. He needed more. 

Hopefully, you understood. Miguel felt your tongue against his lips, before granting you access. As the kiss deepened, the tension on his body dissipated. He could feel your hands playing with his hair, loosening his muscles. 

As every second passed, Miguel grew more confident. 

First, he squeezed your waist, testing. He didn’t want to overstep, but at the same time, he needed more. He wanted to feel your skin on his. Pull noises out of you, created by his touch. 

His hands moved up, stopping below your breasts. His thumbs slightly grazed under them. You inhaled sharply, surprised, but glad he was loosening. You too wanted him to explore more, to take you. To make you his. 

While one of his hands stayed there, squeezing and drawing figures over your sweater, the other detached from your body, before making contact with your arm. He squeezed your forearm, before tracing your arm and reaching your neck. 

Miguel grabbed your neck, taking control of the kiss. He angled you just the way he wanted, giving him more access to explore your mouth. You groaned, the vibrations traveling through Miguel’s fingers.  He pressed his thumb against your throat, the kiss becoming more passionate. 

You pulled at his hair, his sweater, everything your hands could grasp to keep him close, to pull him even closer. Miguel was feeling lightheaded, his breathing becoming more ragged, but he didn’t want to stop. He had had a taste of you, and he didn’t know if he was ready to stop. 

Every sound he coaxed out of you made him more confident. He was obsessed, as if he wasn’t already. Every caress, each touch without an exception your hands made on his body drove him nuts. His lungs were beginning to scream at him for air, so were yours, but neither made an attempt to pull back. You were in a fever dream, and you didn’t want it to stop. 

Miguel’s body was on fire. The kiss became sloppy, teeth clicking against one another. The lab wasn’t silent anymore, your breaths were heavy, both of you panting, an occasional moan erupted from you, making Miguel groan as a response every time. 

He knew if he continued, he would do things he would regret. Not entirely because of the action, but because of the timing. You were his first, he didn’t want to fuck up. He needed to go slow. 

Miguel reluctantly pulled back from the kiss. He rested his forehead on yours, his hand still around your neck, his thumb caressing your warm, and slightly sweaty skin. Both of your chests going up and down, catching your breaths. He could feel the warm air exiting your mouth hit his face, making him smile. It wasn’t a dream, you were right there, in front of him, touching him, melting under his touch. 

Miguel opened his eyes slowly, squinting, not comfortable with the now really bright light of the lab. You had been kissing for what felt like hours, his eyes had been shut all the time, basking in the feeling. 

He found you staring back at him through your lashes. A grin formed on your face once you two made eye contact. Miguel’s expression mirrored yours, he was ecstatic. His hands moved up your neck, towards your cheek, drawing figures there as well. 

“So..” you began, leaning into his touch. Your voice was a little hoarse. Gosh, you sounded so sexy. You bit your lip, looking down a little, towards Miguel’s lips. “Does this mean you like me too?” 

Miguel laughed, his whole body shaking. You giggled as well, breaking the tension on your body and in the room. Miguel cupped both sides of your face, before bringing you in for a quick peck, and a kiss to your forehead and nose. 

He pulled back, admiring you. Your smiley face squished against his hands. “Yes” he breathed out, his shoulders relaxing visible, just melting into you, feeling drawn to you. Nothing else mattered. 

The lab fell silent, you both just staring at each other. It was comforting, the feelings being out in the air. Reciprocated feelings. You liked him, and he liked you. Nothing could go wrong from now on. 

That moment of clarity made an idea pop on Miguel’s head. “So… are you free tomorrow?”

𝓗𝓲𝓼 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰

Your first date was ethereal. Miguel had decided he didn’t want to go to a restaurant, or be near people in general, knowing that both you and him preferred to be private. Instead, he arranged a nice picnic with a beautiful view. 

You had the time of your lives. Miguel had never felt so care free and light. His heart was content and he felt on cloud nine every time you laughed, you smiled at him, or kissed him. Mostly when you giggled into your kisses, he thought you were adorable, and he didn’t know how he could say goodbye to you everyday. He needed to be with you 24/7, although he knew it was best for you both to have some alone time. Don’t move too fast now Miguel, Jesus.

Three months had passed since you two confessed your feelings in the lab. Three whole months of stealing kisses from each other, dates every week, seeing each other at the lab every day, being so close that Miguel couldn’t remember his life before you. How had he lived so long without you by his side?

Miguel couldn’t believe that at first he worked by himself in the lab. You two were like one, working around each other like it was second nature. Stolen touches here and there. You wrapping your hands around his waist from the back, leaving kisses, melting his heart and still, making him blush, despite all the months of dating. 

Unfortunately, today you had a meeting elsewhere. Meaning, Miguel was alone. He was feeling a little under the weather, he didn’t like being away from you. The routine you both had broken for a day. Thanks to his mind not being present one hundred percent, he had missed how one of his co-workers messed with his machine, causing the accident. 

Miguel had been experimenting with DNA fusions, something you knew about. This particular moment, he was curious if he could split his own (you clearly weren’t there to tell him it was a stupid idea). He had no clue what he had gotten himself into, nor what his coworker had done. All he knew is that, after surviving the experiment, he felt different. Changed. 

Miguel had always been a tall, muscular guy. But, he felt stronger, more powerful. He squinted his eyes, the artificial light in the lab hurting his eyes. Weird. He was fine just some minutes ago. He went to shut the lights. When his fingers made contact with the switch, he broke it, an abnormal strength surging from his body. 

He felt wrong, he wanted to throw up. At that moment, all he could think about was you. Miguel rushed towards his things, throwing everything aside looking for his phone. Once he had it in his hands, the eyes staring back at him in the reflection of the black screen weren’t familiar. They weren’t his usual brown ones, they were red. He dropped the phone in shock, the screen shattering in pieces. 

Miguel was pissed, causing a set of talons to emerge from his fingertips, scaring him off. What am I? What should I do? What would you think? He crumpled to the ground, shaking. What was he supposed to do? You couldn’t see him like this, he couldn’t lose you. He picked up the remains of his phone, before quickly gathering all his belongings and rushing to his flat. He needed time to think, he needed to be away from people. He needed to be away from you. He couldn’t let you witness the monster he had become.

A few days went by, Miguel had had no contact with you. He didn’t go to work, he didn’t answer his phone. Nothing. Clearly, you grew worried. He had never pulled a stunt like this before. Reason why, you were now standing outside his flat door. 

“Miguel?” you called, after knocking the door a few times. No answer. “Miguel please, I know you are in there” you pleaded, worry evident in your voice. 

Miguel was pacing left to right in his living room, in front of the door. He didn’t want you to see him, but he could tell you were worried. He hated making you something else that wasn’t happy. The dilemma was making his head hurt, the light coming through the windows wasn’t helping. During the days he had been hiding, he noticed his senses had been amplified. His eyes were ten times more sensitive to the lights.

You continued banging on the door. Tears were now running down your face.

“Miguel please,” you hiccuped, each breath was harder to take in. “Please, I don’t know what I did wrong. But please, let me in. We can talk about–”

At that moment, Miguel opened the door. He couldn’t stand hearing you cry any longer. You sobbed, launching yourself to him. Your arms landing around his waist, your face burying in his broad chest. 

Miguel’s arms stayed in the air, not wanting to touch you. What if his talons came out and he hurt you? He wouldn’t bear it. Seeing your wet and flushed face from the crying was torture enough. 

You cried a little more into his chest, creating a small patch of water in his shirt. You pulled yourself together, detaching yourself from him, allowing Miguel to close the door.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from sobbing. 

You had tear stains all over your cheeks. Miguel made an attempt to caress your face, wiping them away, but he froze in the middle. He pulled his hand back. He inhaled loudly,  shutting his eyes and making fists with his hands, before turning around and going to sit on the couch. 

You stood there, a frown in your face. What had you done for him to be so mad about you?. 

“Mig?” you mumbled, too scared to make sudden moves. 

Miguel groaned, rubbing his face between his face. You approached him slowly, barely making a sound. You watched him quietly, deciding what to do. As there was no reaction, you sat down, leaving some space between you two. You reached towards him, placing a hand over his arms. 

Miguel flinched away, making you retract your arm and look down to the floor. 

“I’m sorry” you began, trying to not break down. You sniffled, you could feel the tears already forming in your eyes. “I don’t know what I did, but I am sorry”. 

Miguel ran his hands through his hair, pulling a little. He didn’t want you to blame yourself. You had done nothing wrong! But he also didn’t know how to tell you what he was. 

“You,” he began, not looking at you. “You did nothing wrong”

“Then why?” You shifted your body, facing towards him. “Why have you been avoiding me? I thought we… I thought we were doing great.” The last words were barely audible. 

“We were… we are!” he corrected himself, now facing you, but not quite catching your eye. 

You played with your fingers in your lap, resisting the urge to reach for him. “Then… why?” You looked at him expectantly, searching for his gaze. 

Miguel hesitated. He played with the material of his sweatpants. He bit his lip, his knee going up and down. He needed to tell you. Either way, this relationship was over. If he didn’t tell you, you would break up with him because who would date someone who hides everyday in their flat? And if he told you… Well, you would probably freak out, call him a monster and walk away. Both outcomes pointed to heart break. 

“I– I can’t do this” he placed his head between his hands and started to cry.

Your heart broke. You didn’t understand what was wrong, but you hated to see Miguel so sad, angry and frustrated, all at the same time. 

“Shhh it’s okay” you scooched closer, hesitating to place a comforting hand on his back, but deciding to do so anyway. 

Miguel flinched at the contact at first, but later melted into you. He leaned into you, before collapsing in your lap. He curled himself into you, his big body retracting to feet on the couch and into you. 

You wanted to cry just from the sight. You rubbed his arms lovingly, trying to calm him down. Miguel was shaking, sob after sob cursing through his body. He mumbled incoherent stuff. Strings of ‘I’m sorrys’ and something along the lines of monster. You didn’t know, nor care. All you wanted was for him to calm down, you wanted your baby to be okay. 

After a few minutes, Miguel regained composure. He could breathe normally. Your warmth was soothing. The way you run your hands through his hair, caress his cheeks, tracing his sharp cheekbones. Lifting his shirt up a little so you could run your nails down his back.

For a moment, he forgot why he was so worried. You had done this countless times, you were his safe space. He could trust you. He needed to believe you wouldn’t leave him.

Miguel placed his feet on the floor, lifting himself off you. He wiped the tears with the back of his hands, before making eye contact with you, for the first time in days. He saw all the worry lines in your face, making his heart clench. Miguel could see your sad expression, a pout in your lips. Your gazes locked, and your eyes widened. 

“Miguel! Your eyes” You reached forward, placing your hands at each side of his head, examining further. 

“I know, that’s part of the problem”

“What happened?!”

Miguel explained to you in detail what happened the day you weren’t in the lab. And, after that, he gave you a demonstration of what he had learned. He stood up and showed you his talons, as well as his fangs. Both retractable. 

You sat there, shocked, while Miguel stood in place, watching you carefully, fully expecting you to shout “Freak!” and storm out. 

You gathered your thoughts, and stood up slowly. Miguel took a sharp breath in. He was terrified. 

“Miguel” you began, looking him straight in the eye. You still had that loving stare in your eyes, that is a good sign he thought. 

You walked closer, and when you were at arms reach of him, you slapped his arms, with all your force. 

“OUCH!”

“How dare you!?” you shouted. “Do you know how scared I was?. I thought you were dead. Dead!” You grabbed the roots of your hair and pulled, now pacing from left to right in front of Miguel, while he rubbed the spot where you had hit him. 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have helped you figure this out!” You threw your hands in the air, mumbling some more things, a few curse words and some other things Miguel didn’t know if they were for his ears or for yours. 

“I thought… well, maybe you would call me a monster and leave” He mumbled the last part, feeling ashamed. 

That made you stop in your tracks, snapping your head towards him. 

“Leave?” you whispered in disbelief. “Leave?” You repeated slightly louder. “In what world would I live? Oh you are so fucking oblivious. I would rather die than leave you, you asshole. I love you, and I–”

“You love me?” Miguel cut you off. His eyes opened like plates, an alarm going off in his head. 

You froze in place too, realising what you had just said. 

“I–” you gulped. “I do. I love you”

Miguel smiled. A toothy grin from ear to ear. He rushed towards you, lifting you in the air and spinning you around, not a care in the world if you bumped something. He hugged you tightly, burying his head in your neck. Once he placed you back on the ground, he grabbed your face and kissed you deeply. 

“I love you too.” he sighed. “Te amo” He pressed his forehead against yours. 

You smiled, and hit his chest playfully. “Don’t you ever pull a stunt like this ever again. You hear me?” 

“Si mi vida. Perdón” He kissed the top of your head before enveloping you in his arms. 

“I love you” you mumbled against his chest. You truly did.

Miguel was going crazy. You had been teasing him all day long. Slight touches here, caresses there. Pressing your whole body flushed against his. You were driving him insane, more than he already was. He couldn’t wait to get to his flat and let you have him, because he had to be honest with himself. He didn’t have a clue of what was going to go down. 

Yes, he had done research. But that doesn’t mean anything. Besides, he knows that things like porn aren’t realistic, so he had a rough idea, but not quite. 

The end of the work day couldn’t come fast enough. Once it was over, you guys went to a nice dinner place, had fun, enjoyed some nice food, before deciding to go back to his place.

Miguel’s leg was bouncing up and down in the car. He was nervous, and you could tell. You placed your hand on his thigh, dangerously close to where he needed you the most. 

“It’s okay Mig. We don’t have to–”

“No!” he cut you off, way too eager. “I want to.”

“Okay” you rubbed his thigh affectionately, leaving your hand there for the rest of the ride home. 

As soon as you stepped into his flat, Miguel’s lips were on your own. Sloppy, needy, warm. His hands roamed your body, tearing away the outer layers, dropping them to the floor. You doing the same with his. 

He walked you backwards into his room, never detaching his lips from yours. You bumped a couple things on the way, but neither of you cared. Once you reached the bedroom, you turned you both around, pushing Miguel towards the bed. 

His legs hit the edge of the bed, landing on it on his back. You crawled on top of him, sitting on his lap. You ran your hands over his body, from the hem of his trousers to his neck, while Miguel’s hands landed on your waist. You bent over, your chests touching, your faces centimeters away from each other. 

“Are you sure?” you asked. 

“Yes” Miguel breathed out, before grabbing the back of your head and slamming your lips together. 

The kiss got heated. Tongues exploring each others mouth, while hands explored bodies. Your whole wait was on top of Miguel, but he didn’t care. You began moving your hips, creating friction. Your center was on top of Miguel’s hard on, the only thing separating your core from him being your panties. 

Your dress had rode up over your thighs, exposing more skin for Miguel to squeeze and touch. He groaned into the kiss, the movement of your hips driving him crazy, but he needed more. His hands planted themselves in your waist, guiding your movement. Once in a while, one would sneak down to grab a handful of your ass, giving it a pinch, resulting in a moan from you. 

Your kisses moved down, kissing along his jaw, down to his neck. You sucked the skin into your mouth. Miguel inhaled shakily.

“Amoor” he grunted. 

 You smiled into his neck, biting and nipping a little more before moving down his chest. You undid the buttons of his shirt, revealing the majestic skin underneath. He had some scars thanks to being Spiderman, but he was beautiful. You could see how his muscles moved with every breath he took. 

You kissed down the middle of his chest, over his sternum. Miguel arched his back towards your mouth, enjoying the feeling. You bite down, and nipped, tracing the scars with your tongue. You moved down, parting his legs, before sinking down to your knees, your eyes in level with the tent on his trousers.

You could already tell, he was big. You could see the outline over the material. Miguel used his elbows to lift himself off the bed, getting a better view of you. You pecked his dick over his pants, gazing up at him. Miguel swallowed hard.

You massaged him on top of his pants, getting Miguel used to the feeling. He groaned, closing his eyes momentarily, but opened them when he felt you undoing his belt. He snapped his eyes open, staring at you.

“Is this okay?”

“Ye– yes” he stuttered. 

You smiled at him, before continuing your actions. After a few seconds, you freed his cock out of its confinements, pulling his pants and underwear down. It hit the bottom of Miguel’s stomach, standing proud in front of you. 

You licked your lips, staring at him, already salivating by just the sight. 

“Is it okay?” Miguel asked, breaking you from your thoughts.

“It’s perfect” you answered, and as to show him, you wrapped your hand around his tip, spreading the precum already there. 

Miguel threw his head back, your hands felt way better than his own. 

You continued to stroke him slowly, up and down. Your thumb massaging his tip, pressing at the head over his slit. Miguel was breathing heavily now, uneven. His thighs began to shake. 

You wetted your lips, and continuing your hand movements, kissed his tip, tasting the salty precum. You spit on him, before wrapping your mouth over his head, beginning to match your hand movements with your head. 

Miguel tried to keep looking at you, but the warmth of your mouth and the way your tongue ran over his slit drove him mad. His elbows gave away, his back hitting the mattress again. He fisted his sheets on his hands, curse words leaving his lips. 

“Yess, Jesus, fuck” he moaned, spurring you on. 

With your free hand, you massaged his balls. Rolling the skin over between your fingers and squeezing them. You hollow your cheeks, sucking at his shaft. You took him as far as you could, his tip hitting the back of your throat, tears forming in your eyes. 

“Oh, God, yes” Miguel breathed out. He was feeling light headed, his skin sweaty, sticking to the sheets. He could feel a knot in his lower belly, almost at the point of bursting. 

You pulled back, taking a moment to breathe, but never stopping your hands. His tip was red, precum leaking from it. Tons of it. He was close, you could tell. He was lasting more than you would have thought, to be honest. 

“I’m closee” Miguel choked out. “Please” he begged, opening his eyes slightly to stare down at you.

You continued jerking him off. Your mouth going to his balls, sucking at them, before licking a stripe down the side, following the most prominent vein, reaching his tip. You gave a few kitten lips before putting it in your mouth again. Miguel’s head flew back, eyes shutting hard. 

He moaned your name over and over. Strings of “Yes, right there” “Fuck” and your name falling from his lips. All of a sudden, his vision went black. Cum spurted in your mouth, while you tried to swallow most of it. 

Miguel’s chest was heaving up and down, trying to catch his breath. He opened his eyes slowly, looking down at you, at the same moment you took his now softening cock out of your mouth, a string of saliva and cum still connecting the two. 

“Fuck” he mumbled. You looked so pretty. 

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, smiling at him and winking. You stood up slowly, letting your dress fall off your shoulders leaving you only with your panties on. You pulled them down your legs, kicking them behind once they reached your feet. 

Miguel was star struck. He couldn’t believe you could be more perfect than you already were. But you could. Before him, he was seeing a goddess. He was about to be fucked by a goddess. 

You straddled his lap once more, now without any item of clothing between your skin. You could already feel his dick hardening again against you. Miguel’s hand flew to your neck, bringing you in for a heated kiss. You moaned into his mouth, moving your hips to create the much needed friction you craved. His cock rubbed against your clit with each movement. 

His hands explored the new skin available, being cautious at first, but growing bolder. He squished your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers, even pinching them, making you groan into his mouth. He swallowed every sound you made, and so did you. 

You broke this kiss, running your nails down his chest, looking between your bodies. You needed him inside of you, and he wanted you to be around him. He wanted to feel all of you. 

“Condom?” You breathed out, pulling back the hairs stuck to the sweat of your forehead. 

“In the drawer,” Miguel answered.

You climbed down his body, for a split second Miguel missed your warmth, but before he could complain about it, you were already back, motioning him to get more comfortable in the bed, before seating back in his legs. You opened the squared package, pulling the condom out. 

You looked at it, and back at Miguel. “Are you really sure?”

Miguel nodded, the anticipation making his brain fuzzy. He didn’t think he could speak right now. 

You nodded, positioning yourself better. You stroke him a few times, before rolling the condom on. You lifted yourself up, using Miguel’s chest as support, while his arms flew to your waist to help you. You aligned his dick with your entrance. You were already wet from the anticipation and just making him come. He sounded so pretty, breaking under your touch. Cumming just for you, and only you. 

You rubbed his tip along your slit, tapping your clit a few times, before aligned it with your hole. You breathed in, before sinking slowly. He stretched you out so perfectly, it stinged a little, but it felt so good. 

Your mouth and Miguel’s fell open. It was so intense, finally being connected. You reached down, your hips flushed with his. Miguel’s nails were digging into your waist, while your hands squeezed his shoulders. 

You got used to his size before starting to move slowly, rocking your hips back and forth. Miguel let out a shaky breath, watching your movements. 

“Touch me” you purred, leaning over and taking his ear lob between your teeth, your breath tickling the side of his face. 

One of his hands stayed glued to your waist, while the other played with your breasts, alternating between the two. You nipped at his neck, leaving hickies and bite marks where no one could see them, only you. 

Miguel whined, he was enjoying the feeling, but he needed more. 

“Please, more” He begged, his hand squeezing harshly on one of your tits. 

You sat up straight, placing your hands flat on his chest for support. You lifted yourself up, leaving only half of his cock inside of you, before sinking back down. You both moaned at the same time, he felt so good inside of you. 

You kept doing that a couple more times, while Miguel forced himself to keep his eyes open, watching how his dick disappeared inside of you. Once you got used to it, you set up a rhythm, using Miguel’s chest and shoulders as support. Miguel’s hands went back to your waist, while his head flew back. His mouth was slightly open, groans and moans feeling up the room, combined with the sound of skin slapping against skin. 

Miguel’s sounds were turning you on so badly, you could barely concentrate. He grunted your name, moaned it so loudly you were sure even the neighbours could hear. You weren’t any better. His dick was hitting just the right places, stretching you out just the way you liked it. 

“Fu-Fuck” you stuttered, shutting your eyes. You were getting close, and so was Miguel, by the way his cock twitched inside of you. 

“Mig– I’m close” You cried out, the pace you had been setting faltering. 

“Me too” he said, through gritted teeth.

His hips had begun to lift from the mattress, meeting yours halfway, helping you reach both your orgasms. 

“Migg” you whimpered, slumping forward.

Miguel opened his eyes slowly, as much as he could. Your nails were digging on his shoulders, while he had a death grip on your waist. One of his hands caressed your stomach, disappearing between your bodies, his thumb making contact with your clit. You jolted forward, the stimulation overwhelming you. 

Miguel began drawing tight circles on the num, matching his and yours broken rhythm. He could feel you were closed, your pussy was squeezing his cock so good, getting him over the edge. 

“Beba” he mumbled, before throwing his head back and cumming inside of the condom, making you fall over the edge and come around him.

You collapsed on his chest, his thumb rubbing small figures still in your clit while you rock your hips in circles, coming down from your high. 

You stilled your hips, while Miguel his hand from between you, placing it in your back and rubbing it up and down, with the little power he had left. You stayed silent for a couple minutes, recovering. Both of your bodies covered in sweat, and the both of you with smiles over your face. 

You lifted your head slightly, placing your chin on his chest, looking at him. He looked so peaceful, breathing slowly from his nose, eyes closed. You pulled back a strand of hair stuck to his forehead, caressing his face with the back of your fingers. Miguel opened his eyes, his gaze falling on yours. 

“Hi!” You whispered, stroking his cheek. 

“Hi” he smiled, eyes tired, blinking slowly, like a child almost falling asleep.

“I love you Mig”

“Te amo, mi vida, y siempre lo haré” (I love you, my life, and I’ll always do)

<<Part1 || masterlist ||

Authors notes: AHHHH I hope you guys enjoy this one as much as the first one!!! Thanks for all the love 🥹☺️

I'm a little anxious or nervous about this one because of all the lovey dovey stuff (mainly the smut) but anyway, I really like how it turned out and I hope you do too!!! I had so much fun with this one.

It turned out to be sooo long!! Funny that I cut the first one because I thought that 2k was A LOT, and this is 8k. Oh well.

I may edit this a little later, cause I don't really know how to feel about the smut. I honestly wanted it to be longer. But maybe I'll do another part, or a side story featuring what I wanted (Basically, Miguel eating you out). Anyway, let me know what you guys think!! Be truthful, don't hold back!! You can tell me: "Never write Smut again" And I'll allow it.

Practice makes perfect I suppose, so the more I write about sex the more I should improve, right? But, well. I think it is good to be the second time.

Tags: @guilty-pleasures21 @boogiemansbitch @amberbalcom14

[michellejonesgf]

come on, live a little • patrick zweig x reader

pairing: patrick zweig x fem!reader

synopsis: patrick hasn't been kissed in a while. and so he asks for a kiss.

words: 1087

warnings: written in second person, pat zweig being persistent (he wants a kiss so bad) (not in a creepy way, you and him have a good friendship), hinge mention (author does NOT know how dating apps work), friends to lovers!

a/n: wrote this during a quick writing session in between study sessions, hope you like this <3

“hey can i ask you a favour.”

“nope.”

“if you were a really good friend.”

“good thing i’m not that.”

“you would really care about me.”

“pat, i don’t have time for this.”

“can you kiss me?"

and with those eyes so wide, so beautiful, who are you to say no?

“i haven’t been kissed in so long.”

patrick zweig has never been big on emotional vulnerability. he prefers to hide behind a veil of cheeky remarks and flirts with a mission, but laughter is all he expects even when he does happen to make a joke or two with personal anecdotes.

“did art put you up to this? or tashi?”

a part of his heart seizes at this. did you really not believe that someone could ache after you? or did it stem beyond that? did you not want this?

he says your name, “it’s already so embarrassing, you think they have that much of a hold over me?”

you shrug, looking anywhere but his eyes. your heart won’t accept its sincere but if you see even a glimmer of amusement in his eyes you will never be able to speak to him normally again.

“oh, i know they have a different kind of hold on you.”

“i don’t want to talk about them right now.”

“then don’t.”

patrick’s at the end of his rope. and he’s never at the end of rope, at least not in this way.

“the other day you said ‘what’s a little kiss between friends’. you know nothing’s going to change, or whatever.”

“is this how you get everyone to kiss you? no wonder you’ve been, what was it, thirty people in the last–”

“–don’t be mean.”

you feel bad. and you did say that a little kiss between one’s closest friends only makes the friendship stronger. but you also said that to tashi. who you don’t currently have feelings for (although art would say that’s debatable). maybe you should do this, be a good friend. “you really want a kiss, huh?” you squint your eyes at him.

“i don’t want to make you feel weird–”

“what about hinge?”

“what about it?”

the pause tells you all you need to know. "you got banned, didn't you?"

he averts his gaze, voice a bit smaller than before, "no i didn't".

he huffs and turns to you, eyes focused into yours, desperately peering, "do you not want to kiss? i won't bother you if its making you uncomfortable."

you think it's now or never. take a chance, risk it and hope that you can salvage what's left of your friendship over the next six months. art and tashi would understand right, they'd help you through it?

you lean closer to him, and slowly bring your hands to his face, cupping each cheek gently with each hand. you look into his eyes, smiling, "i'm going to need you to put on a shirt first."

he springs up and you hear the shuffle of his feet as he walks towards the bed. you smile at how he's quick to come back.

he sits back on the floor, just the way you both were a minute ago and you resume the position of your hands cradling his face.

“patrick zweig,” you say smiling.

“yes?” his voice is hesitant, he doesn’t know if you’re going to make fun of him or–

“can i kiss you?”

“please.”

you lean in and give his lips a slight feather-like touch with your own. neither party pulls away, both with closed eyes and held breaths. you make a decision. you lean in once more and press a kiss that feels more real this time. he kisses back but its so soft your heart melts at the thought that this could be something.

you try some more pressure and one of your hands goes to the back of his neck to pull him a bit closer. you’ve never felt this tingly while giving someone a kiss, you wonder if a friendship this deep makes it more special. if knowing someones hidden threads and tending to their bruised split knuckles when they try not to cry grants a special warmth to any potential future romantic dalliances with that person that sours any other romantic experience with someone else forever.

the leverage that your hand on his neck gives you feels dizzying because in this moment he is yours to hold and to kiss. you feel his palm in the small of your back, barely there, a bit more than ghosting. a deepened kiss, lips slotting between each other that meet for a moment only to slot a different way and you deign that enough. you both halt with your lips so close yet so apart.

you look into his eyes, from that so-close-so-apart distance and every resolve you had to stay civil dissolves. he looks at you and you feel dishonest and–

“i’ve liked you since that weekend at the basketball court.”

“i deleted hinge three months ago.”

so he was telling the truth.

a patrick zweig in love practices emotional vulnerability and tells the truth. who would’ve thought.

“so this isn’t just a kiss between friends?” as much as you don’t want to a smile creeps and lifts your cheeks so much there’s no way you can do a bit.

“come on, i just told my best friend i like her!”

“you didn’t tell me any of that.”

“well, the way you kiss told me that.”

“well, i also kiss your mother like that, if that helps.”

he holds your face the way that you were holding his just a few minutes ago, “will you stop seeing my mother and let me be your boyfriend, please?”

“come on, live a little, its the 21st century!” but your heart is beating so fast you cannot bring yourself to answer earnestly.

patrick’s smile turns toothy and you wonder what it would be like to taste the inside of his mouth.

“did you really save yourself for months so that you could kiss me?”

“you know how traditional i am.” this is the same patrick who kissed art to get him to stop talking that is now kissing you, and saving himself to do so.

“can we do that again but with tongue?”

“yes, director.”

[wolls-angel]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ what took so long? - j. woll ˚₊‧ ୨୧

pairing: j. woll x fem!reader summary: After almost 20 years of pining, it finally happens... request: in desperate need of jo woll childhood best friends to lovers. like i’m talking best friends since birth, and then admit they’re in love with each other at age 26. biggest slow burn ever 😫 word count: 1.6k warning(s):fluff, cheating (not between joe and reader), not much dialogue, longer than normal, not proof read notes: i have a love hate relationship with this fic. joe is so cute in it so i like it more. lmk what you think. i hope you love it !! xoxo

Everyone knows Joseph Woll as a hockey superstar. Young guy with his whole hockey career ahead of him. One of the most promising young goalies in the NHL. It's true. He is all of that. But to you, he's Joey.

You met Joe when you moved into your grandparents house. You were 8. Joe was the son of your grandmother's cleaning lady and she was eager to introduce the two of you. "It's nice when you have someone you know in a new situation," you remember her saying.

It was summer, so Shelley invited you over to her house to meet Joe and her other kids, Michael and Emma. You were sold when she said they had a swimming pool.

A few days later, she picked you up with Joe and Emma in the car and drove you to the Dunkin' near Joe's house. At this point, you and Joe had only exchanged one word. You both ordered the same thing (a lemonade) and your remember looking over at him and smiling. It was the first time you saw his face in full and, even at eight years old, you could tell it would be the end of you.

Your friendship only grew as you went to school together for years, learning all about each other and you just kept falling for him. You went to all his hockey games, helped him with his English homework, gave him advice about girls (even though he never took it). You watched him grow into a gorgeous, 6'4, kind, compassionate and respectful man. The man he is today.

As teenagers, you tried confessing your love so many times but your fear always paralysed you before you told him anything. What if he said no? What if he didn't want you? What if it ruined the friendship you had worked so hard to develop? It wasn't a risk you were willing to take.

All the way through high school, Joe never had a girlfriend. He would have a crush here or there but never pursued it. He always made up an excuse as to why he couldn't take a girl out.

"I'm too busy with hockey" was the usual response when they asked about his love life. Then his family would look at you and smile, as if to say "Well, she's right there".

You never dated either. For a much different reason though. You just kept holding out hope. Always thinking maybe that Valentine's day he would ask you. It never happened. And it wasn't even like you couldn't have went out. People were always asking you. It just wasn't Joe.

Joe took you to prom because neither of you had partners to go with. It was his mom's idea but he wasn't upset about it. You wore a beautiful dark red gown and had your hair in an updo, very stylish at the time. Joe knew you wanted the night to be special so he saved up to rent a limo. You told him he didn't have to but he insisted.

"It's the least I can do. You're going to the prom with me."

Joe also took you to the NHL draft with him in 2016. You remember the look on his face like it was yesterday. It was exactly where he wanted to be. An NHL prospect.

The next few years were hard. You went off to university in New York City while Joe went to train with the Toronto Maple Leafs. You would visit each other as often as you could. You'd go up for reading week. He'd come down for Spring Break. Things like that.

Summer was really the only time you would both spend time in your hometown. You would go boating with Joe, babysit his little sister, go to a party or a bar. It was nice. It felt like in the midst of all this change, there was something normal.

Then, in your third year at NYU, you met Charlie. He was kind, tall handsome and a pre med major. You met him at a cafe near campus, where you were both studying for midterms. He asked you out and you realized it was kinda embarrassing to keep waiting for Joe when he lived so far. He probably had a girlfriend. He just didn't care enough to tell you.

Charlie took you out one Friday after your lecture and swept you off your feet. He was a true gentleman. And you were happy. You called Joe a few days after you and Charlie made it official to tell him the good news.

"Oh... wow, Y/N, that's... amazing. I'm so happy for you," is all he said.

You were too happy to question Joe's sad tone or his hesitation in congratulating you. You were too happy. Your relationship with Charlie only lasted 3 months though.

You had made plans to meet Charlie at his place after your lecture. You had ended early because you had a headache and wanted to just chill before you went out for your 3 month anniversary dinner. Long story short, you caught him cheating. On your anniversary with some girl from his bio class.

You were heartbroken.

But enough about the past. Let's jump to the present.

Joe's NHL debut. You were so excited to get your mind off the break up and the fact that you needed to find a job after graduation. You just wanted to see Joe and support him. Fittingly, the game was against St. Louis and all of Joe's family and friends came to support him.

The game was amazing. Toronto won 3-2 in overtime, but Joe saved 32 shots. You could tell how proud the rest of the team was during the hug line. Joe didn't know you were there to watch him so after the game, you and his mom left to take you home to surprise him.

Once there you hide behind the couch in the living room. Joe walks in and the whole room explodes with applause and congratulations from his friends and family. You can't hold it in any longer and...

Oof.

You run into Joe at full speed, knocking him off balance.

"Wha-... Y/N?", he says, in complete shock. You giggle into his chest, squeezing him tight, "Hey, Joey. Miss me?". The smile on his face when you look up could have blinded you. Almost immediately, he engulfs you in the biggest hug possible. "Fuck yeah, I missed you," he mumbles, his head buried in your neck. After a second or two he lets go and you two enjoy the party as usual. That is, until right after dinner.

"Y/N, can we chat in the other room?"

You feel a hand grab your wrist. It's Joe. You brow furrows in confusion but you nod and he pulls you hastily into his bedroom. He motions for you to sit on the bed while he closes the door.

"I missed you, Y/N. How's school?" he sits down beside you. "Good. I'm so ready to be done," you respond with a smile. "Maybe when you're done, you can move up here. Be near me again". You giggle, "I'd love that, Joey".

"So, no Charlie today?"

You sigh. Right. Charlie. "Uh, no. We broke up a few weeks ago," you look up at Joe and his eyes soften. "Shit, I'm sorry. Are you ok? What happened?". You feel you eyes well with tears. "He cheated on me. With some girl in his class," you sniffle and lean into Joe, "I was finally happy, you know? Not just waiting".

"Waiting?" he asks, "Waiting for what?"

Shit. You have said too much. You look down at your hands, sitting in your lap, "Nothing, don't worry about it".

"Y/N, tell me," he places his hand on your chin to force you to look up at him, "I have known you for almost 20 years. I can tell when something's wrong".

You look into his eyes and realize maybe it's time you were honest with Joe. What's the worst thing that happens? He says no and things stay the same. Maybe.

You get up and stand in front of Joe who is still sitting on the bed. "I have been waiting my whole entire life to say these words, but I'm scared and I have every reason to be. You are my best friend, Joe, and I don't want stuff to be awkward between us. But I may have had too much beer earlier at the game and I'm a little tipsy so fuck it. I have been waiting for you. To ask me out. To care. To love me the way I have loved you since we met when we were 10 years old. And I have never been sure if you wanted me but I talked to my therapist last week and she asked me what I wanted and all I could think of was you. I want you, Joseph Woll. So if this is the end of our friendship, so be it, but I want you to know that I want you to want me, Joe. It's ok if you don't but," you pause and collapse down onto the bed beside him, face in your hands, "I don't know. I'm so sorry".

There is a few beats of silence before Joe speaks.

"Y/N, baby, what took so long?"

You freeze. Huh? What? Excuse me? You look up at Joe, bewildered, and all he does is smile. And then he leans in and before you know, his lips connect with yours. His lips are oddly soft and all you can smell is his cologne. You let yourself melt into him and he feels like home. Where you were always meant to be. Suddenly, Joe whispers into the kiss, "I want you too, Y/N. I really do".

[the-tarot-witch22]

What's coming for you in love in 2025? - Pick a Pile

Pile 1/ Pile 2/ Pile 3

My Paid Readings | My insta | My year goal post

Liked my blog or readings? Tip me!

Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!

I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

Pile 1:

(The cards I got for you - 10 of pentacles, knight of pentacles, 9 of wands and the fool)

Okay so the very first thing I heard and feel is, "patience" I feel your love life has been stagnant or stuck for quite a while, or you just don't feel like the need to have someone in your life, you are doing things but for your own, and maybe a part of you deep down wishes for the love the craving, soul shattering style. I am feeling this year will bring you luck in your love life, Like you will be meeting someone around the mid year to next year, But what I am feeling is your person, is taking his time, since he has lots going on , nothing to worry about but is like a bit of stress going on in their life, and you as well you need to go through some transitions before you actually come across them. Their energy is very masculine or well balanced. I am also feeling that it will happen when you let go of expectation and embrace the unknown, take the risk, not just stay in your safe cocoon. I am also feeling the person coming is quite something. He is patient, not that romantic in a way, but his actions will prove otherwise, the small little things or big things you will do for you, but for many of you I am seeing you might meet your person this year, and for some of you I am seeing lots of self love and growth, the song i keep channeling is "flowers" by Miley Cyrus , like even though you crave it you are not as desperate for it. "I can buy myself flowers", "talking to myself for hours, say things you don't understand", you got the gist hmm, and this is also very beautiful it proves, that you have the right energy, but do open your heart, take risks, go out, do stuff for yourself, and very unexpectedly you will meet you person.

The zodiac signs i feel prominent in this group are aquarius, earth signs and fire signs especially sagittarius/leo (sun/moon/rising).

Pile 2:

(The cards I got for you - 2 of cups, 3 of pentacles, and 8 of wands)

Okay so the very first thing I feel and heard is, you're definitely gonna encounter someone this year, it's like a divine connection that I am seeing is coming towards you, I am also seeing the connection between you both, is gonna get develop into something more and quickly very soon, the attraction you both feel will be very much mutual, like you both know and realize what you want and its you both, the feelings are so mutual and pure, for some of you I feel you already know who your future spouse is, so I am feeling you might get close to them. or if not then there is just they are more on your thoughts or dreams and EVEN if you don't meet them it will be like your soul recognize it and it will happen very soon for you both. I am also feeling you both might have met at work, education, travel,, or a group kind of project, or shared interest, and if not you might meet there. I am also feeling you will learn a lot, from this experience, or from them it's not a superficial kind of love it's a love and feeling that is very deep. I am also hearing that is meant to be! I am also feeling that this connection is soulmate connection and you share something deep! I am also feeling from seeing the cards that this union is gonna be life changing and it will change your perception of love and how you see it.

The zodiac signs i feel prominent in this group are scorpio, cancer, pisces, virgo and fire signs especially sagittarius and aries. (sun/moon/rising).

Pile 3:

(The cards I got for you - 9 of wands, the sun, king of swords and the 3 of cups)

Okay so the very first thing I heard and feel is that you guys are SUPER independent, like yeah I can do that i don't need no one type of thing. You might have been a real people pleaser, but I am seeing you are trying to over come it and you also stand up for yourself which is very good thing, and in relationships i feel you haven't had much luck and many of you didn't even had boyfriend or this, but this just means god has some special plans for you. I am also feeling you can't tolerate bullshit of others, you are not the person to stay if someone is being intolerable. And that's a good thing. I am also seeing that you guys have CHANGED IN PAST FEW YEARS which is a good thing for you. Okay, I also got the message that some of you here might had one or two relationships but not serious, many of you don't even know what love is like (not saying that's a bad thing) just typing out the things I channel. So, now let's dive deeper, I am also feeling that this year particularly will bring a change in your life which will be TURNING YOUR LIFE UPSIDE down, maybe you realize who is your person, there will be signs, SO i am seeing and feeling that you don't ignore them at ALL. you will be seeing lots of 11:11, 222 and 444 but also feathers and butterflies. I am also feeling that the change will be so full of happiness, you might not even see it coming in a way. After all, universe has a plan and works in mysterious ways. I am also feeling that in love there is someone coming towards the end of the year mostly fall or in October, I am also feeling the person will be very intelligent and confident, they are like a life of party. I am also feeling when you come across them, you might be celebrating something like you got A job, you passed your exams, you launched your business. They are also very intellectual, and it's gonna transform your life in a very good way.

The prominent zodiac signs are - fire signs and air signs, sun/moon/rising.

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3

[moonblossom7]

Baby Daddy!Logan thoughts

Wolverine x AFAB! reader

a/n: go into all of my x-men fics n stuff with canon as a mere suggestion :) this one's pretty ok,but yk. For future reference.

contents: fluff, girl dad!Logan,a kid b4 marriage(accidental but wanted),slight angst sprinkled in,lightly suggestive in one bit but it's not full nsfw or anything

🌸 Logan didn't mean to get you pregnant and he was honestly upset when you first found out. He was happy for you,bc you wanted kids but he didn't think he deserved to be a father.

🌸 Once he decided he was sticking around (because let's be honest,there was some part of him that thought leaving so you could find someone better was the move) he's very attentive.

🌸and I'm not just talking "oh,he goes to every check up and rubs your feet" I'm talking he will hike ten miles in the snow at 2 a.m if you're craving something specific and will return with a smile on his face because yeah,that was tough but you're growing a kid,which is harder.

🌸really wanted you to have a home birth,mainly because he doesn't trust medical situations,especially if you and the baby are also mutants. (and if you still do it at the hospital,he is fucking VIGILANT. He's watching every fucking thing that happens like a hawk.)

🌸you have a girl ofc

🌸he's never really been around kids this little,so for a long time he doesn't know what to do with her.

🌸he uses Jean's Facebook to look at parenting tips(he later learns this is not the greatest source),and consequentially ends up buying a ton of stuff that your daughter is too young to even need off Marketplace (bikes,clothes meant for much older kids,rain boots,jungle gym,etc.)

🌸he hates!! Hates!! those little tutus that seem to be on every little girl onesie, he thinks the tulle is scratchy and how on earth could someone subject their baby to that?

🌸a lot of the clothes your daughter winds up wearing are pretty gender neutral and frequently thrifted or bought from small businesses. Logan says this is because modern,mainstream baby clothes are "Down right fucking hideous,who designs this shit?"

🌸he makes some of her toys. A small set of wooden blocks here, a patchy ugly teddy bear there. He just doesn't love the unnaturally bright colors and loud noises that most baby toys come with,plus,he's got a lot of affection he doesn't know what to do with.

🌸hates late night diaper changes with a passion. He only just started sleeping without nightmares,and the baby won't even let him get a full 8 hours?? He takes all of them though,because "you do the more important stuff"

🌸big fan of the way your appearance changed,btw. I personally think he's always been the type to find stretch marks and some squish attractive,but the fact that these are from you growing his little girl makes it all the more beautiful.

🌸he is not,however,a fan of having to wait until you're healed up for bedroom stuff. He can do it, he's not an animal,but you're just so fucking gorgeous and he's so fucking happy. But,your health comes first, and he's not so stupid as to think he knows better than you on this.

🌸he doesn't quit smoking,but does at least start going outside and wearing a different jacket when he does it. He always washes his hands and face after he's done before he does anything near the baby.

🌸since this is *my* personal x-men canon, we're going to say that Laura is around the mansion somewhere and is not overly hyped about the baby sister. She's a little possessive over her dad,as some little girls are. (She'll get over it soon,especially once the baby is old enough to play with)

🌸Logan takes the baby on adventures once she's old enough to not get sick over everything. He'll pack a bag and disappear with Laura and the baby for a few hours,with very little explanation, and come back with a snoring toddler and a 10 year old covered in mud.

🌸he's happy that this kid has his mutation in it's organic form,instead of being injected with metal. however,it does make her stick out a bit visually. (she begins to display it at around age 11,with claws that aren't super sharp at all compared to Logan and Laura)

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

ok so that's it lolsies. Lmk if you want anything else with this idea or any specific scenarios.

[novlr]

Weird question here: do I need to describe my character's clothes? Obviously I need to if it's important to the story or setting (if they're wearing a beautiful ruby gown at a ball, or maybe dirty and torn to indicate a fight) but just on a normal day? Do readers need to know what characters are wearing?

As writers, we often get caught up in the details of our characters. We describe everything from their eye colour to their favourite breakfast cereal, and it can be so easy to go overboard with unnecessary description. Describing a character’s clothes is a danger zone for too much description. It’s incredibly easy to get lost in the minutiae and forget the most important element when writing for readers; will they find this interesting?

The short answer

No, you don’t need to describe every piece of clothing your characters wear throughout your story. Like all elements of writing, clothing descriptions should serve a purpose.

Just like clothing in real life, descriptions of a character’s clothes serve a function. This means that your chose in when to describe things should be intentional; usually for the purposes of character development, world-building, setting a mood, social commentary, plot advancement, or symbolic representation.

When should you describe clothing?

Every plot is different, but there are some key moments in a story when knowing what a character is wearing or how they are dressed could be important:

When it reveals a character’s personality or status (e.g. do they favour muted tones or bright, bold colours? Do their clothing choices signify wealth?).

During important story moments or turning points if it highlights that moment’s significance (e.g. wearing black at a funeral, or an academic gown at graduation).

If the clothing affects the plot or action (e.g. Cinderella losing her glass slipper).

When establishing the time period or setting (e.g. historically appropriate clothing descriptions to put readers into the right headspace to appreciate your setting).

If it shows a significant change in the character (e.g. a shy character who likes to blend in suddenly switching to bright colours to display their newfound confidence).

When it symbolises something deeper in the narrative (e.g. a meaningful piece of jewellery, or a bride wearing her mother’s dress for her wedding).

When should you skip clothing descriptions?

Readers don’t need to know what your character is wearing at every moment of every day. The best way to think about it is, if it’s not important to the story, don’t describe it in detail. Usually it’s enough to know that someone is wearing a jumper on an overcast day, and it won’t actually enhance the scene to know it’s a plain black one. Here are some moments when it’s probably not all that important to go into too much detail:

During routine daily activities.

When the outfit doesn’t add meaning to the scene.

If it interrupts the flow of important action.

When it feels like “outfit cataloging” rather than storytelling.

If you’re describing clothes just to fill space.

Tips for how to effectively describe a characters’ clothes

Make it matter: Make sure your descriptions reveal something about the character, whether that be a personality trade, social or economic status, or their cultural background.

Illustrate change: Highlight a change in your character, whether that be something external or a internal, emotional change.

Create uniqueness: In the case of a protagonist, especially, the way they dress can make them unique. It can contrast them with other characters.

Set something up: Describing a character’s clothes can be used for foreshadowing a future plot point.

Be selective: You don’t need to describe a whole outfit. Instead, you can focus on one or two distinct pieces, items that have significance, clothing that affects movement or action, or elements that reflect the character’s state of mind.

Don’t info-dump: You should try to seamlessly weave descriptions into the narrative. Describe actions and interactions, use sensory language, have other characters react, or let clothing be a part of a scene’s atmosphere.

Common pitfalls to avoid

There is a fine line to tow when describing a character’s clothes in a way that is effective. And essentially, the pitfalls happen on either side of that line. You will either over-describe or under-describe. So what does that mean?

Over-description

Listing every item of clothing, regardless or relevance or usefulness.

Describing outfits for every scene. We rarely need to know what all characters are wearing at all times.

Including brand names unless relevant. Sometimes, a character’s brand loyalty might be important to the plot, but if it’s not, it’s unnecessary, and potentially alienating to readers.

Getting too technical with fashion terminology. Most readers won’t be au fait with the specifics, so make sure you write in a way that most readers can follow.

Focusing on clothes at the expense of action. Nothing will bring an action scene to a screeching halt faster than a detail dump.

Under-description

Don’t ignore clothing when it would be significant. If a character has undergone a significant personal change, then it would make sense to describe how that might also affect how they look on the outside.

Don’t miss opportunities for characterisation. A lot of a character’s personality can shine through their clothes, so if you’re telling the kind of story where that could be relevant, make sure you don’t miss those opportunities.

Don’t forget period-appropriate details in historical fiction. Research and authenticity are essential in certain genres, and clothing can go a long way to setting the scene.

Don’t overlook clothing that affects movement or action. The clothing a character wears can hugely affect the believability of a scene. If a character has just stepped out of a coronation and is dripping with heavy jewellery, it wouldn’t make sense for them to go for a leisurely swim.

Don’t skip descriptions that could build atmosphere. If it’s cold and dark, make sure your characters fit into that setting. Or you can use it to contrast your character and invert expectations (like a character who only ever wears shorts, even in winter).

When in doubt, ask these questions:

Does this detail reveal character?

Will it matter later in the story?

Does it help readers understand the world?

Is it necessary for visualisation?

Could the scene work without it?

Like all descriptions, clothing is a tool that you can use. Describe clothing when it serves your story and skip it when it doesn’t. The key is to make every detail count, whether you’re describing a ball gown or a worn-out pair of sneakers.

The bottom line is that you must trust your instincts and your readers. They don’t need a detailed inventory of every character’s wardrobe, but they do appreciate thoughtful details that enhance their understanding of your characters and story. When in doubt, less is often more, but make the descriptions you do include count.

[arnocto]

Do you have advice for a skinny guy looking to start their gaining journey? Especially around feeling self conscious and increasing appetite. Thanks!

So... It's gonna be a long answer, sorry for that hahaha

Yeah... It's a journey and it's always difficult to navigate between the kink, the real life, the healthy and the self-destructive aspect.

I'd say (and I am myself still working on it) that you have to get to know yourself, know what you love or what you like less, and why. Don't say you hate something about you, instead try to figure out why it's not something you appreciate, see if there's a way to change it, and if not, well try to accept it and find positive aspects to it.

Most important tip I could give: do whatever you do for you and only you. Even if you're into being sub, don't grow or do something you are not yourself willing to do. Plus! Don't try to look like someone els, having goals is nice, but you are unique and even if there are amazing shapes around social medias, pictures and videos are selected to show beauty and not reality. Try to be the best version of yourself and don't change to be someone you're not.

As for the capacity I tested a LOOOT of things since I am genetically programmed to be a twink, so I had to work on that.

There are some pills to help to grow appetit, such as fenugrec (well, it's Phytotherapie, so you need a long and massive exposition for it to work a little bit, really, but at least it's a mild approach) . I personally prefer the soft torture of funnel feeding.

BUT! please... Don't look at videos of gainers holding the funnel horizontally, it's not how it works. and they should know about that.

I personnaly started with a simple beer funnel with a valve that you can find on wish, temu, amazone, whatever, and every night I was chugging whole milk before bed after a nice last meal.

Why? Because we want you to be at full capacity, stomach stretched to his usual maximum.

The funnel, held vertically, will give pressure and speed to the milk (or whatever liquid you are using) and overstretch your full stomach. Overnight the liquid will be rapidly eliminated and leave behind an empty stomach with a larger capacity already. Do it regularily and you'll see a difference but take your time.

Be careful, don't overdo it, start with little volumes, take time to sit for awhile afterward and let the air out, try to have someone to support you especially in the beginning, and keep in mind that the higher the funnel, the stronger the pressure, if it's too much, bring it down a bit.

I started my first funnels with 500ml of milk and now I can chug up to 2liters of mass gainer in one go, approximatively 30 to 40 seconds.

Don't hesitate to ask me if you want more details, I hope I answered your questions.

Take care, and I hope you'll fulfill your dreams and stomach

[raayllum]

Spark notes on "Callum lost his true heart" in S2. Excellent true heart meta here by @kradogsrats on how the concept works more generally that I would 100% recommend reading before coming back here

The true heart is a gift of childhood. For a few wonder-filled years, we each have innocent eyes to experience the world’s beauty in a simple way. 

We see Callum on the cusp of being 15 undeniably believing that the resolution to the war can be that simple (even if we know well before S7, wherein Aaravos directly says they have similar views of how the world works, that Callum does not hold onto this simplicity for long). This is demonstrated, as Krads points out, in Callum's conversation in 1x02:

CALLUM: Can't you just make peace with them? HARROW: It's not that simple. CALLUM: It seems pretty simple to me. You don't want to die, I'm sure the elves and dragons don't want to die, so everyone agrees.

This emphasis on what people want over what they're devoted/committed to ("I'm sure they don't want to die" -> "I am already dead") is similar to Ezran's in arc 2 ("We all want peace and we all want love [...] you want to hurt someone else") that is both dismantled and upheld ("You want Janai to attack!" / "I want them to hurt"). To hammer it in further, Harrow even denotes that Callum is operating under the illusion of childhood, where adults have all the power/freedom.

What happens, I think, over the course of season one and season two is a bit of a domino effect, with Callum making choices in season one that season two continually 'knocks' down so to speak. The first and easiest example, perhaps, is Callum's choice in 1x03 between staying and trying to save Harrow... or choosing his little brother, who will remain in danger the longer they stay at the castle (Runaan and Viren both presenting strong antagonistic forces) and even worse danger the longer the egg remains.

Callum glanced out a tower window and saw Ezran in the courtyard searching for him. But how could he leave the tower when the king was in so much danger? Callum tried to think of what the king would want him to do. “I’m coming, Ez,” he called out the window. He gave one final look back at the door to King Harrow’s chamber, then bolted to the spiral staircase. He took the stairs two at a time, trying not to look at the dead bodies strewn on the way to his little brother.

—Book One: Moon novelization

Now, this choice makes sense. It is in many ways just another version of the same one (choosing Ezran and his safety) that Callum had made earlier this same episode. Both are more complicated choices ("the right thing, I hope" does not beget certainty, and therefore does not beget simplicity) but we'll get to that in a moment.

The final domino set up in season one for Callum's true heart is, I think, choosing to destroy the primal stone. The reason I say these are the dominoes, so to speak, is because each of these choices are made in a very distinctly Callum-y way, by which I mean: he thinks to a certain degree he can skirt the consequences.

This is not to take away from the weight of the choices Callum is making — they're still sacrifices, they're still honourable, he's still aware that he's risking Something — but there's still clearly a 'block' of some kind between "this is what I'm choosing to sacrifice" and "this is the full consequential weight of my sacrifices".

For example, the primal stone means a great deal to Callum. He states that "without this, I'm nothing" and it's a great powerful tool of magic. However, when Callum destroys it, it is currently unknown to him that this means no more magic, point blank. The consequence for his choice is steeper than he'd imagined, and now he has to live with the reality of it (for a time, anyway, but it's not like the journey to primal magic isn't gruelling, anyway).

But as we grow up, we are forced to make choices, sacrifices, compromises. And they change us forever. 

The same happens when it comes to learning about Harrow's death. Callum was happily writing him a letter two episodes ago, reassuring Ezran in 1x03, etc etc. And yet:

Callum made a sacrifice, then convinced himself that maybe he hadn't, and had to face the devastating reality of what he knew was most likely, on top of why Rayla wasn't able to tell him for the same reason(s) he couldn't tell Ezran.

I also want to highlight Claudia (and Soren)'s betrayal of Callum as well for two reasons. The first, and less interesting/important one in some ways (to me, anyway) is that if Callum's betrayal of 7x02 contributes to the last vestiges of Ezran's true heart being snapped to pieces, it would make sense that Claudia's betrayal would likewise contribute to Callum's.

The more interesting/important facet of the Callum/Claudia breakdown is, to me, what happens before Claudia shows her true colours, and whereupon she hasn't done anything (knowingly) wrong to Callum yet, and still:

RAYLA: Callum, I know you trust them, but if we let them come with us, by the time we know the truth, it'll be too late. Do you understand? We'll lose everything. CALLUM: So what do we do? How can we figure out if it's help, or a trap?

Callum has already made a Compromise. He trusts Claudia, but Rayla doesn't, and he ultimately trusts Rayla more than Claudia, even this early on, the same way he trusted Ezran more than Claudia (and didn't trust Claudia with Ezran, then) in 1x03. So he goes along with the illusion plan, which would've been pretty crappy to do to an old friend if Claudia (and Soren) had been genuine in their offer to help.

So I think in quick succession over a few days, most if not all of Callum's true heart gets shredded to pieces within the first few episodes of season two. Barring that, I think 2x07, specifically the choice to do dark magic, takes whatever remains.

AARAVOS: You call it corruption. I call it compromise.

'Could he really bring himself to go through with his plan? What if he didn’t succeed? What if he compromised his beliefs and it was all for nothing? […] But Rayla was in trouble.' —book two: sky novelization

While Aaravos lists off choices, sacrifices, and compromises as though they are separate things, and occasionally they can be, I think more often than not in life and within TDP that they are all the same thing.

Do you choose (sacrifice) your father or your baby brother? Do you sacrifice your oldest friendship (compromise) to ensure your travelling party can be safe? Do you use dark magic (a compromise, a sacrifice of yourself) to save someone you love?

And Callum's dark magic use falls into his previous pattern of you made a choice, and you knew there would be consequences, but you never dreamed it'd be This. And finally — finally — in 5x08, Callum makes a choice with the full knowledge of the consequences, of exactly what he's risking — and what he refuses to sacrifice.

His true heart has been gone for a while by this point, I think — but within the narrative, Callum is an adult from 5x08 onwards. He knows undeniably what he'll sacrifice and why, and what he won't.

(Something something sacrificing your true heart to protect the person who is your heart and your truth.)

[itsmeyaspider]

You are mine~

Yandere Risotto Nero x female reader x Yandere Diavolo/Doppio

Trigger warning: yandere, stalking, possessiveness, obsessive, forced kissing, drugs mentioned, cursing, blood and gore discribtion, Yandere Risotto and Diavolo are their own trigger warning

Notes: I'm back and I finally rewatched Jojo again! I can't believe how long it took me to write something for my all-time favorite Jojo characters !!! I hope you enjoy the story :D

Also a huge shoutout to my Italian friend who translated me some words<3333

It's a pleasant night in Napels, the moonlight shines in the dark alleyways and the only thing you can hear are the soft footsteps of the lost souls who are still outside. Most normal people wouldn't even think of going out at this time of night, the crimes in Italy are increasing day by day and even in the daytime you aren't safe anymore.

But none of that bothers a beautiful (h/c) haired woman, why should it? After all, she is a Capa in the well known mafia group Passione. Many people respect her, something she values very highly. Still, she doesn't like walking around Napels at this late hour, but we'll, she didn't really have a choice, the boss, who is the head of the organization, has ordered her too see him as soon as possible. This suprised her a lot, as she didn't know what he really looks like until today. She had contact with him by phone from time to time, but never ever face to face. So what the hell did he want from her?!

The woman who bears the name (Y/n), continues to walk in the direction that was directed to her. The boss is really overprotective when it comes to his identity, but she already understood that as she joined the mafia. (Y/n) changes sides of the street as she slowly and careful enters a dark alley. With a small, annoyed sigh she looks at the piece of paper with all the coordinates on it. Did she really get lost?! This can't be true...

She bites her underlip as she is about to turn back, maybe the house is in another allway. As she starts to walk again, she suddenly hears a strange noise behind her. What the hell? It's probably just a stray cat taking food out of one of the garbage cans. God, I'm so jumpy. But as she is about to leave, she is suddenly grabbed by something- no, someone. A strong, powerful grip pulls her back into this godforsaken alley.

Just as she was about to say something, she looks into ice cold, demon like black-red eyes. Her (e/c) colored eyes widen in shock, as she immediately knows which man stands before her. Risotto fucking Nero, the leader of La Squarda Esecuzioni. What is he doing here? Did he watch her?!

"What the hell are you doing here?! Let go of me, I need to-" but before the woman could continue, the stand user interrups her. "(Y/n).." His voice sounds rough, almost beastly. His gaze rests on her, like a brid trying to catch a worm and she almost notices a malicious, sadistic glint in it. "You shouldn't be here, bambola. There are a lot of dangerous people around at this time of night."

A sudden, involuntary shiver comes over her, something is strange, the way he looks at her, but above all..those words - those damn words scare her. "I-I can defend myself, no one is stupid enough to attack me." she says in an almost stuttering voice. "I don't see any of that."

The Capo's grip tightened as he pulls her closer to his muscular body. His other hand rests on her cheek as he suddenly grabs her chin and continues to force her to look into his possessive eyes. A gentle breeze blew through the alley, and everything about her wanted to run away, damn even her Stand couldn't help her right now. Not against him. "Mia. You are mine (Y/n). Do you understand that? Mine and mine alone. Since the day you joined the mafia, when you were a little fish in the water, I've watched you. And now after all these years I've been waiting for you..."

The black dressed man comes closer and closer, so close that she can feel his breath on her neck. Her (b/t) shaped body stiffens, as she is overcome by goosebumps. Surely, Risotto couldn't be serious...Is he crazy or perhaps on fucking drugs?! "Risottto, p-please let me go-." Suddenly she feels ice cold, rough lips pressing against hers, the woman tries to free herself, but the man doesn't even think about it. He puts his two hands on her hips, forcing her to hold still.

---

Meanwhile, a relatively short, pink haired man observes the whole situation. He hides behind a house wall as he glances at the woman from time to time. Anger erupts in him, how dare Risotto touch (Y/n)~chan like that?! He grinds his teeth as he suddenly hears an all too familiar sound. "Turuturu...turuturu" The man in the pink sweater looks abruptly around to see where the noise might be coming from. The boss is probably just as angry as he is- or even worse! He walks further into the the alley as he sees a banana peel lying on the ground, he picks it up as he holds it against his ear. "Boss?" He asks, only to be answered by an angry voice.

"Doppio, my sweet Doppio, make sure this filthy traitor keeps his finger off my principessa. Kill him for me."

The man called Doppio nods at his boss's words as he throws the banana peel on the ground. His light brown eyes darken as they twitch weirdly back and forth. After a little while, Doppio regains his composure as he slowly walks to the other alley where his beloved (Y/n) is being mistreated by a traitor. "You will pay for this Risotto. How dare you lay a hand on my (Y/n)!" His voice is no longer so cheerful and bright as usually, no this time it is filled with pure hatred.

The leader of the La Squadra Esecuzioni team immediately breaks away from the dominant kiss, as he licks his lips, he places the woman protectively behind him. "And who are you?!" (Y/n) no longer understands anything, first she was kissed by another Capo without her consent and now there is another man she didn't even know! What the actually fuck. The woman takes a few steps back, realizing the seriousness of the entire situation she is in. She crashes into a wall as she looks around, maybe she could find an escape route or anything to get away from this men's!!!

Doppio's eyes start to twitch again, but this time it's much worse than before, he holds his hands against his head, as he watches on the ground. His body appears slightly more muscular and much larger than before, a raspy, vicious voice can be heard. "I'm the one who will kill you. Do you think you can get away with this, Risotto? First you betray my organization and than you dare to steal my wife." The far too intensive green eyes shine with anger, how is this even possible? He clearly had brown eyes before!!!

Risotto crosses his arms as a small smile graces his lips. "So the boss is finally showing himself huh? I must have really hurt you then. But still, (Y/n) is mine, I will kill you and take over the organization myself."

The woman continues to search for a way out, unable to ignore their conversations. First it turns out that this pink Bimbo is the fucking boss himself and now he is also obsessed with her??? What the hell has she done in her whole life to end up there? Slowly she remembers the she only started out as a small drug dealer, she wanted to save some money for college. But now that she thinks about it, she has rises to the level of a Capa really quickly. Most of the people take years to climb the ladder in Passione, especially when you want to be a Capo. But she only achieve it in a few months.

'Shit! I'm an idiot!' She bites her lower lip, as she lets out a small sigh. She needs to risk everything now, the situation won't get better and she really don't want to stay any longer. The two men's are visible busy with each other and so she sneaks along the wall as inconspicuously as possible. Maybe, just maybe she will make it to the street and then her Stand could help her to escape, then she would he safe, or at least she thinks so. But before she could make another small step, she feels a sharp, unpleasant pain in her heel. A razor blade rips out of her now bleeding heel as she falls on the ground, she lets out a scream. The pain doesn't stop, it burns like hell, the red liquid slowly flows onto the stony ground.

"Where do you think you going bambola? Did I allow you to leave?" The voice of the black dressed man pulls her immediately out of her thoughts. Her now almost watery (e/c) colored eyes are filled with fear. The woman wants to say something, to tell them both to stop treating her like a piece of meat, but something inside her stops her from doing so. Is it the fear of being hurted again? Deep down she knows thar she don't stand a chance against any of them but still, she can't just do nothing! (Y/n) looks down at the ground as she really tries to get up, but before she finally manages to stand on both feet's again, she notices more blood running onto the floor then before. Suddenly she feels a strong hand on her shoulder and as she tries to look back at the two Stand Users, she realizes that the pink haired one is missing.

"(Y/n) you're not going anywhere, you will come with me." Her body immediately flinches, the dominant voice makes it clear that she has no other chance. Diavolo grabs one of her loose strands of (h/c) colored hair, as she starts to play with them. "I will kill Risotto now in front of your cute eyes and then I will take you with me. You will learn not to have such fooling thoughts ever again, otherwise I will make sure that you can never walk again."

Tears run down her cheeks as her hope slowly but surely fades away. This is madness, no matter which of these two psychopaths would win, she would get treated like an animal. She suddenly falls onto her knees as she inwardly prays for both of them to die! This couldn't be ture, this simply couldn't be. It has to be a fucked up dream, otherwise she will slowly break and will never be free again. 'I should never started selling fucking drugs.'

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

Here is a small drawing I did for this fanfiction! It's only Yandere Doppio but I really hope you like it<3

[dundeey-art]

How would you interpret prowl as a romantic partner? Especially IDW prowl

my friend, this is the question of the century. youre asking me to answer one of life's greatest mysteries. every day i knock on my friend's barred doors, and i demand they answer my very same question...: How would you interpret prowl as a romantic partner?

now, if i was a writer, and if this was a headcanon blog, i would give you a neat little list of headcanons that would make your heart flutter. unfortunately i am not a writer, so i can in no way paint a beautiful picture of a world in which prowl is your lover in a sweet 200 words or less. instead i wrote a stupid essay for you that doesnt even answer your question... hah. after another hour of typing i actually did more or less answer your question

so, you say "especially" IDW prowl, but IDW prowl is unique (and all i think about), so this is just going to be about IDW prowl.

let me just say that i started writing and i couldnt stop, so i accidentally ended up with a bunch of bullshit that has nothing to do with what you asked. i kind of like the bullshit though, so i'm not deleting it. just scroll down until you see "the headcanons" if you want to skip past my nonsense.

i used to have trouble envisioning prowl as a romantic partner because of the way he's portrayed. i bold that last part because it is specifically the way he's portrayed that makes it difficult to envision him in a romantic setting, and not necessarily the way he is as a character. what i mean by that is that prowl is always shown to be in extremely stressful situations and in environments where the stakes and tensions are high. nevermind personality, we don't even get to see how he is when he's relaxed, when he's not under threat. i suppose we get a glimpse of that during the flashback that shows him working with chromedome, but even then he is 1. performing dangerous work and 2. shown interacting with someone who is more so a colleague than a friend. even then, that is a prowl from the past. we don't know if that is how he would still act "today" (by which i mean the end of IDW). since then he's gone through millions of years of war, and that doesn't just come with trauma, but all kinds of growth and change. so we can't just fall back to pre-war prowl for our headcanons - we have to focus on present-day prowl, trauma and all.

i also want to say that i don't like the way i see how a lot of people headcanon prowl as a romantic partner. again, because of the way he's portrayed, people tend to default to a cold, mean and distant partner. someone who lacks empathy, communication skills, something about "emotional intelligence"? i've even seen people headcanon that he would be abusive... yikes. i think what people tend to forget is that prowl is not a villain. he does act distant to the people around him, but that is a pretty common personality trait that a lot of normal people in the real world have. so while he can be a little rough around the edges, i'd say hes just a normal guy who is, just like anyone, capable of developing romantic feelings for someone. still, prowl has some key traits that are undeniably him, and i try to base my idea on that while staying as loyal as possible to the canon.

the headcanons

i don't see prowl as someone who would fall in love easily. but when he does, it's intense. prowl is shown to have one goal throughout the comic: it's to attain peace. that goal is his world. i think that in a similar way we can imagine how he might be when in love - his partner, the object of his desire, would become his world. i think he would love his partner with the same kind of intensity that he is shown to have in various situations.

i think he would like to have you rely on him; he likes to be depended on, to be trusted. he wants you to leave everything to him, and he would take good care of you. that's not to say that he wouldn't trust you to take care of yourself. however, he might have a tendency to be a little controlling and overprotective - but really, it's because he cares a lot about you. he wants to prevent harm from befalling you at all costs. he might have to learn not to be so worried about you all the time. can you blame him though, after everything he's seen? if prowl lost you, he probably would not be able to move on.

i can imagine prowl's lover, and love in general, having a certain effect on prowl. you bring a kind of warmth out of him. you make him let his guard down. when he's with the one he loves, he can finally relax. he's not under threat and he's not constantly being scorned - you are essentially his safe space.

the thing is that love can bring a side out of people that you might not normally see or expect. you can imagine almost anything within reasonable limits. maybe, as a lover, prowl is soft spoken and sweet. maybe hes playful. or maybe he's not one for verbal but physical affection. honestly, it was hard for me to tell you exactly how i imagine him as a romantic partner because i like nuance, and i like to be open minded to those infinite possibilities. still, i did my best to paint a picture for you. 👍 this just took me two hours so i hope you like it

[honimello]

Was It Worth It?

[tenwhiteandalusians]

is episode 8 the domitian arc ? more on this and EVEN MORE narratives i’ve been ignoring that the show said “actually,,,” about in 5

[the-casbah-way]

i found loads of pictures of my uncle i am going 2 cry

[lifenconcepts]

I’m so happy you share my joy in this!! You and I are not so different, but I conclude after all - we all share little bits of one another within us. And maybe not the same pains or pasts, but at times the same joys and moments. You too are someone i find fascinating! I’m sure that you have alot to speak of too, and little reminder - these little mystical writings have only become possible because I’ve gained a true habit (through passion) of writing daily about anything. Not bound by time or topic or moment or place. But just to write about whatever comes to mind. Always hated diaries, but have now written out 11 notebooks irl and COUNTLESS notebooks through digital notes.. I often just begin to write with ZERO prior thought (no internal monologue either! I like to point that out..) and then once everything is on paper I get to know what it is that truly goes on in there. (Even this large block of text is only possible through about.. Hm. Let’s estimate.. 20 or so conversations at MINIMUM I held with either myself or someone close and simply repeated a few times until they cemented. After all, all ‘facts’ are just patterns of belief that time has proven to be accurate. That’s why we don’t like to change our ideals even when people explain things aren’t exactly like that, but after a peaceful debate, come to some new conclusion.. hey! Had this exact point reoccur about 6 times in the last year alone! Wonderful..)

please DO write whatever you have the spark! Tend to it until you kindle a flame, and may the way it dances and flickers tell you the story of the wood it devours and the way it warms up the air. Everything is connected, you worded it nicely, and it is true that simple existence bounds us all to the now in whatever shape and form it takes on! From a wounded bird to the looming trees, the parasite within its rotting gut or the heat of the sun that warms up its corpse.. it all is beautiful, in its own grotesque way, and to be able to accept that as the magic it is allows you to also see the value of each part of the ecosystem and the cycle it upholds..

We’re living, and that’s utterly beautiful. And in whichever form it comes to you - know that it is a valid way to see the beauty which surrounds us. Well, as long as you DO love life, then your ideals can stay as is. But know you must always change, you can’t stay stagnant especially not when you know there’s something wrong in the way you’re acting or thinking or feeling. Do things until they feel right, even if you don’t yet know why. May movies, songs, stories, art, writing, people, sights, and thoughts all bring you a step closer into figuring out the secrets of the universe and all its pleasures it upholds.. ofcourse, I may have run around with a lighter to your souls - but it has begun to spark the flame within some that may make them strive to bettering themselves, and in finding whatever calling you feel passionate towards, you’ll find fulfilment within plainly existing. It is sad ofcourse many still remain unaware and refuse to move from self-destructive thoughts, while the path to discovery is so open, but I guess not all shall be changed by me and that is fine. I wasn’t placed here to help others, but rather guide. I’m actively helping myself so I can indirectly help and assist others by sharing the knowledge I’ve gathered. If I was preoccupied with running around and saving every dying bug then I’d long have killed myself from having little time for my actual joys and self. Sometimes, it’s neccesary to be selfish, sometimes, neccesary to be selfless.. but the magic of these sorts of notes and advice is that there never is one solution to all and obviously each individual situation/experience/person/creature/soul needs their own unique perspective, and so even though you can’t predict every little thing, to have basics vague thoughts that can apply to many a thing.. it helps gather things into one spot and go from there somewhere coherent and clear. it’s funny though how I don’t know many basic things, like why do we seek out comfort, or why after all this knowledge we still fall prey to addiction, but I got many theories as to why.. and it reminds me a little of Sherlock Holmes.. who can differentiate dozens of different tobacco ash and dirt but doesn’t know shit about the solar system. The fact isn’t that he’s stupid or anything but just more well accquainted in the very specific skills and knowledge he needs for his specific job, his passion and calling, and that excess stuff DOES indeed clutter up the brain. Ofcourse though, we’re not immune to the internet yet, so yeah I can sadly explain to you what a skibidi toilet is (fucking sickens me), but at the very same time explain why the distant stars have more in common with a fleeting memory of a family friend in a party you were sleepy through as a child than the odd name and concept of a god. After all, there ain’t a big man upstairs, you just gave him that form to present as because it feels somewhat right and nice. But in reality. WOW there’s so much true beauty around!!!!!

we’re connected everywhere. From the man who wanders aimlessly to the young girl running home, to the parrot which flies across a forest to the eagle bound by a tether, from a chained dog whining and thrashing to a whale so large and powerful yet still completely concealed by glass,, the stars and the water, the grass and the earth. The soil and their inhabitants and so the ones who live deep below the sea. So many parallels and similarities, beauty in between the lines. Can you see? Be glad you can see.. because it always was here and always will be there!!!

Thanks for letting me ramble !! I truly thrive in writing, it makes me feel alive. I actually feel good for once and not like curling up and bashing my head against a wall for a bit. This makes me feel good :))

OH AND I MUST ADD! There’s no one answer to anything, always different for all, and there always exist exemptions!! Having said that, try not to force anything even if it seems nice and good.. don’t want you stressing over existence if it’s not in your specific brain layout ya know? But after all, DO challenge your brain! Yeah yeah, contradictions.. did you not read my status below my name? CONTRADICTION IS DIVINITY!! The world is cruel and kind! We are destroyers and creators! Pain is pleasant, and pleasure can be painful! Death is often merciful, and mercy is often life-crushing. Rebirth will go on, but reincarnation or simply ending by the root can also exist for some. There is peace here and there, and just as a pigeon nests against anti-bird spikes.. we will find a way.

afternoon tea

….i need to just schedule these in advance…

Uh, how are y’all?

free spot for question (ramble about whatever/nf)

no pressure taglist: @neowanderseternally @numisanubis @berrybird054 @saireye @lifenconcepts

(Again, if u wish to be added or removed dm me and explicitly say so and I’ll respect your wish)