#this is so so so atrocious i cant even wrap my head around it

[bingobongobonko]

just kinda nauseous and off tonight.idk how people can sleep sometimes. i feel like death

[alexlwrites]

Idol AU one-shot where soulmates can feel each other's pain after they... ahem ahem... make their bond official.

Cut to the boys leaving you, their soulmate, alone at home while you were having the Godzilla of periods, soon to find out the absolute shit of a mistake they made leaving the dorms that day.

I started writing these months ago and just found the doc... Should I finish it? Here's what i got:

---

Men are useless, you concluded while dragging yourself from the big kitchen to an even bigger living room, a blanket thrown around your shoulders and an ostensibly big tub of ice cream in your hands.

You had seven soulmates. Seven. Seven men who were supposed to be there for you and love you unconditionally. And yet not a single one of them managed to be home to support you while going through what could only be described as the world’s worst period.

You would’ve understood if it was a comeback week - having only officiated your soulmate bond a few weeks before, you had yet to experience those but you could only imagine how brutal they would be. But at that moment, their schedule was sparse and they still chose to spend their free time at the studio due to a burst of creativity on Yoongi’s part instead of staying with you in what you considered a desperate time of need.

One of them would do, you thought to yourself while you lied down on the sofa and turned on the TV. You didn’t need all seven of them to take care of you, although that was the ideal scenario. One of them to give you a back rub would suffice. A soothing hand placed on your lower abdomen would do. Instead, you had to resign to your hand pressing down on your skin and a marathon of couple goals videos on Youtube.

“Oh my god, imagine having an idol as your soulmate?” you mock exclaimed to the empty room “What a dream!” you waved the spoon at the couple with matching outfits on the screen “A dream, my ass. Gonna find myself another soulmate and then what? They are going to regret the day they left me home alone! I might even get a song after this…”

You mumbling was interrupted by the sound of your phone, the screen lighting up with a notification from the group chat you had with the boys.

Yoongi [2:00pm]: hey babe, are you feeling any better?

You [2:01pm]: I hope you lost all inspiration and I hope all your verses only rhyme with the word “farts”

Seokjin [2:02pm]: quick game change a word in a song title for “farts”

Jungkook [2:02pm]: war of farts

Seokjin [2:03pm]: magic farts

You [2:04pm]: seokjin farts

Seokjin [2:04pm]: okay your judgement is clouded by anger so I’m gonna let that one slide

You [2:04pm]: your face is clouded by anger

Seokjin [2:05pm]: that doesn’t even make sense. Cmon honey you cant be that mad

You [2:05pm]: yes i can im cutting the nipples out of all your shirts fuck off

[Y/N left the chat]

You were aware that you were being the slightest bit unreasonable. But your awareness did not mean you cared, so you threw your phone back onto the couch, screen down you wouldn’t see any upcoming massages. Curling into a ball, you felt the pain on you lower back fluctuate between bearable and absurd as you allowed yourself a moment of self pity and loneliness.

---

“We’re fucked” Yoogi announced to the room, Seokjin wincing by his side.

When they left earlier in the morning, they didn’t think you would be upset. Generally speaking, you were very understanding and reasonable, always sending them off to work with a kiss and a smile, always being there to comfort them when they came home exhausted. They should’ve known today was not going to be like that when you woke up with a scowl, hands clutching your tummy as you made your way to the kitchen to inhale an atrocious amount of food. When you didn’t say good morning, just sighed a breathless “yeah” when Jimin asked if you were okay.

They should’ve known you would be upset when they started getting ready and you looked up with big, glassy eyes and asked why they were leaving. Yoongi explained how they had some recordings to do and your bottom lip started trembling.

“Can’t you stay with me just for today? Please?” you begged, but they were already half the door, too focused on their obligations as artists and not enough on their duties as soulmates.

“Sorry, baby. We’ll be home later, okay?”

They should’ve known they were fucked when you frowned, eyes quickly becoming stormy as you dodged Taehyung’s kiss. “Whatever” you murmured, walking back into the bedroom and slamming the door.

There was no explanation for how oblivious they were to your state when you made your discountent clear as day, so there was no one to blame for the unsettling feeling of guilt they shared but themselves.

“Do you think she’s really mad?” Jungkook asked, nervously biting his nails.

“Maybe she’s just joking?” added Jimin, ever the hopeful.

Taehyung shook his head “She seemed really off this morning, I don’t think she’s joking” he said, still upset about how you stepped away from him.

Hoseok stood up, clapping his hands together as he started giving out orders “Well, then let’s wrap up as quick as possible so we can go home and try to save the situation as best as we c-WOAH”

Suddenly he was on his knees, clutching his stomach like his life depended on it. “Hobi!” Namjoon called, quickly kneeling beside his friend “Are you okay?”

“No!” wailed the other “What the hell is going on?”

Yoongi got up to call a staff member when his body decided to rebel against him, sending him stumbling back his steps back onto his chair, his abdomen on fire “Ow, ow, ow, what is this? What’s going on?”

One by one, the member started to feel it, an insistent pressure on their just under the bellybutton that expanded to their lower back. It didn’t give, simultaneously feeling like someone was pressing down on them or something was clawing its way out.

[magalidragon]

killing time | a Jonerys drabble

This is for the Anon who suggested we revisit the racing beans from that one fic I wrote where they were racecar drivers and it ended up far angstier than intended 🤣 Also uses prompt from @youwerenevermine “you’re an idiot”/“yes but I’m your idiot.” Ooooh and it is smutty 🤭

"I can't believe you think this is going to work."

"It will work. Because I'm a genius."

That was a little much, Dany thought, hoisting herself onto the tool bench in the garage, swinging her feet back and forth, watching the handsome specimen of her husband bent in half in the engine of the Direwolf, his fine, tight ass wiggling in his grease-stained coveralls, which should have made him look like he was wearing a potato sack, but were pulling in all the right places. He'd tied the arms around his hips, his white t-shirt underneath stained with grease, sweat, motor oil, and if she was not mistaken-- a large swipe of chocolate from the cake their daughter had been eating before he put her to bed for her naptime.

He moved some more, shifting on his feet and she bit her lower lip, checking the clock hanging askew on the wall. They had a meeting in about two hours, and were killing time just lounging around the garage. It made her think of when they were teenagers, spending all their time in and around the garage, making messes and letting someone else clean it up.

Now they cleaned things up themselves. He also cleaned up nicely himself. He wiggled again and she wondered if he was doing this on purpose. She shifted uncomfortably on the bench, sitting on her hands instead of doing anything that might get her in trouble. He was <i>working</i>, as he liked to stress. He didn’t want distractions when he was working.

Although working wasn’t an apt enough word for what he was doing. Fucking up a perfectly good vehicle. That’s what he was doing.

Now he was adding some sort of extra filter which he claimed would give the Direwolf extra air flow, boosting its acceleration. It made no sense to her. Plus, he'd screwed with the fins on the back, which was <i>not</i> his job, that was Gendry's as their aerodynamics expert, but Jon knew better, always, he said.

Except for her.

She wrinkled her nose, when he pulled out from the engine and then spun around, dropping down onto the other side to scoot underneath the vehicle. Exasperated, she groaned. "What are you doing now?"

"Checking the fuel pump, I think it’s jacked."

"You're making shit up." He hummed underneath and kicked his feet around. After a few minutes of clanking around, she couldn't stand it any longer and climbed down, peering into the engine, disgusted at the wires he had crisscrossing everywhere. It made no sense. It was like the inside of his head. She scowled at him, when he emerged, swatting her ass lightly with the dirty rag in his hands. She rolled her eyes. "You're an idiot."

"Ah, but I'm your idiot."

Be that as it may, he was screwing up a perfectly good working engine because he couldn't just leave things alone. "That's not getting you anywhere, give me that." She swiped the wrench from him and crawled up onto the Direwolf's fender, small and spry enough to really get into the engine cavity. She made sure to wiggle her butt, in her tight jeans, just enough to tease him, while also kicking up her foot.

The mess he’d created was atrocious. She could not believe this chaos of an engine. Disgusted, she made a derisive snort. “I take it back, you aren’t an idiot.”

“Aye?”

“Aye.” She climbed out and threw one of the fuel injectors she had just removed at him, as he scowled. She tilted her face up to his, smirking. “You’re a moron.”

“Is that not the same?”

“Moron is worse to me. Idiot implies you have some sense of awareness of what you did, you just did it stupidly.”

He wagged the fuel injector at her. “This is perfectly fine!”

“It’s corroded!”

The fuel injector flew over his shoulder, after he tossed it and he grabbed her hips, hoisting her up onto the car’s side, tilting her back over the fiberglass to the roof, growling. “You’re impossible.”

She snapped her teeth on his bottom lip, groaning. “You are.”

“No you.”

“You!”

The next thing she knew they were over each other, his mouth hot on her sweaty neck, pulse racing against his tongue. She moaned for more, needy, grinding her hips up into his and scratched her nails down his shoulders, pushing them under his t-shirt sleeves to get to his bare skin.

“Jon,” she groaned, his palms under her arse to lift her higher against the car, while she furiously pulled at his coveralls. He kissed her, silencing her protests, tongue spearing into her mouth and she nipped at him, her fingers easing into his briefs to free him and thumb at his cock, fondling the thick, velvet length, hardening to steel in her hands.

He pulled away, whining impatiently. “What time is it?” he panted, flicking the tab at her jeans, leaning sideways to keep her upright against the envie with his body while he worked the denim and her lace bikinis over her hip.

Doesn’t matter, she thought, busying herself with kissing him again. She loved him, loved him so much, it was hard to wrap her mind around how they had been willing to go their separate ways for so long before coming together again.

She gasped when he pulled away and latched his mouth over her nipple through her tank’s thin cotton, the competing sensations blinding her. She lifted higher and he thrust into her hand. She was drenched, cunt pulsing, and she lined him up, sliding her cunt along his cock, the head bumping her clit. She moaned softly and knocked her head against the car hood behind her.

He pushed into her easily, filling and stretching, smothering her with his body and mouth. She canted her hips, encouraging him to move, and clutched his arms. He found her hand with his and squeezed, joining them at her thigh, which was hiked up over his hip, the coveralls slapping against their thighs, zipper clanking and her jeans awkwardly bunched near her knees, the stretch denim stretching to its limits.

They had done this more times than she could count, fucking in garages and in and on cars and gods she loved it. She moaned his name and tore her nails at his arm while squeezing his hand. He grunted into her shoulder, name a breath on his lips and then she was coming, encouraging him with her until they were shattering, her cry strangled and her name a shout on his lips.

“Jon,” she sighed, feet falling to the floor, loose and limber. She hummed into his neck, kissing his pulse.

He tilted his face down and kissed her, slowly, reverently. She smiled lazily. It was so nice and comfortable afterward. She met his gaze, loving and sleepy, gray eyes blown out to black. “You’re still an idiot,” she murmured.

Jon laughed and arched his brow, about to reply when they froze, hearing a door banging from somewhere near. “Uh…”

“Jon! Dany! Where are you? We have that sponsorship meeting today and I don’t want to go can I stay with Laena?” It was Arya, bellowing through the house.

They cursed, hurriedly righting themselves as best as they could. Dany winced, squeezing her legs together uncomfortably. “Arya? What are you doing here?”

“We have that thing!” She pushed open the door and stepped in, scowling immediately. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” they said at the same time.

Arya made a face. “Ew you both are gross. Were you fucking?” She didn’t wait and gagged. “Nevermind don’t tell me…” she trailed off distracted at the engine. She bowled, leaping for it. “Jon! What did you do!?”

At the same time, from the monitor on the table beside her, Laena began babbling, awake from her nap. Dany sighed, patting Jon’s cheek. “My idiot,” she murmured and kissed him, before skirting away to leave him to argue with Arya over what he’d done to the car.

All she knew was when it was ready to drive, it would be ready and she’d trust whatever he did. Even if it made zero sense. She winked at him when he caught her gaze across the garage and he made a face.

She laughed, skipping off to get their daughter and clean up. They had a race to go prep for.

[legoshi-plz]

Hello!! May I please get 11: "May I kiss you" with Bill pls? 👉👈🥺

A/N: I don’t like that Beefy Bastard but I cant deny, his character as a Soft! Yandere ? HOT 🥵

///////////

Bill’s lips were uncomfortably pressed against yours, his body curving almost awkwardly to reach your height. He had one hand on your shoulder. It was a painful sight to watch.

“Ok, Cut!” Louis called from below the stage. You and Bill broke apart instantly.

“This is atrocious. Y/N, you’re annoyingly short. Just pick her up, Bill,” Louis droned and the two of you started again.

Bill grabbed your waist and swooped you up before crashing his lips onto yours. It was much more aggressive this time and you swore you felt him slipping in a bit of tongue. He hooked one paw under your thigh, heisting your leg up to wrap around his waist as he dipped you low, never breaking the kiss.

“Okay Big Guy, calm down. This is still a stage production, not some raunchy feature film,” Louis called and Bill set you back down on the ground.

You and Bill had been cast as major characters in the school play which involved the two of you having to share an impassioned kiss right before the final Act. A lot of things came to mind when you thought of Bill: irritating, overconfident, narcissistic, even self-centered but you could hardly bring yourself to picture him as desirable. While other girls (Carnivores, of course, and a few adventurous Herbivores) in the Drama club would swoon at the opportunity to lock lips with the Tiger in front of the whole school, you could think of nothing more repulsive.

As the two of you continued rehearsal, you noticed Bill was more dedicated to his role than ever, his acting skyrocketed to probably impress Louis and keep the admonishments to a minimum.

You performed your role to the best of your abilities and before you knew it, rehearsal was over. You were heading back to your dorms that night when a certain tiger decided you needed company.

“Y/N, wait, hold up a sec,” Bill said jogging towards you. You didn’t stop but you turned your head slightly to acknowledge you’d heard him.

“Hey, glad I was able to catch you before you left. Where ya headed?”

“To my dorm room....”

“Oh yeah? Cool, it’s not too far from mine-

“Because we’re both Carnivores,”

“Exactly! We have like so much in common! Anyways I’ll walk you home,” he said excitedly.

“There’s no need for that, I’m fine.” You said increasing your speed slightly.

“Oh c’mon, it’s a dangerous world out here, Y/N. You never know who has you in their sights,” Bill chuckled darkly and you rolled your eyes.

“No one is attacking Carnivores, at least not at Cherryton. I’m fine, Bill,” you scoffed but he continued to walk with you until you reached your dormatory.

“Well this is me,” you said, obviously annoyed as you went to open the door of the building.

“Wait- uh, there’s something.... I need to ask you,” Bill said awkwardly. You had a feeling he was beating around the bush to ask for something, using the ‘walking you home’ excuse to look for an opening.

“Well? Spit it out, Bill, it’s already late.”

“I- um, I really felt like we.... had something.... today during rehearsal. Like a real connection and I was wondering.... Can I kiss you? Again, but forreal this time. No audience,” Bill gulped and to say your jaw was on the floor was an understatement.

You took a moment to assess the tiger. He was tall, good-looking as far as felines go, had a ridiculously strong build and was usually pretty charming with the ladies (as long as those ladies weren’t you.) He would easily be considered the total package, a great catch to anyone..... anyone except you.

“No.” You answered shutting the door behind you as you entered your dormitory.

[underworldwitxh]

#54 nsfw pro hero Shinsou please!

#54: "you can sit on my lap until im finished" 🍋🍋🍋NSFW🍋🍋🍋 Warnings: swearing NSFW: DD/LG, praise kink, cock warming. Reader is Female. Reader's ethnicity is open to interpretation.

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

"Daddy? Daddy where are you?" You called out, looking for your Daddy Hitoshi. "Kitten, what are you doing up? I thought you were laying down to take a nap baby" Hitoshi asked slightly distracted because he was trying to make heads or tails of Izuku's report.

The man was an amazing hero but holy fuck was his hand writing atrocious. "I had a bad dream. Can i sit in your lap Daddy? I promise not to touch your papers. I just...." you look down ashamed that you had to bother your busy Daddy. "Oh Kitten, come here. Of course you can." Hitoshi smiles and helps you climb onto his lap. His hand going to the back of your house coat and rubs soothing circles, he feels you settle against him and smiles.

When you shift for the 4th time in an hour Hitoshi looks down at you "Kitten what's the matter? What has my pretty little kitten all riled up?" He asks softly tucking a piece of [H/C] hair behind your ear.

Your face darkens as you blush "N-n-nothing Daddy Im ok. Just trying to get settled is all." You smile sweetly at Hitoshi, who raises an eyebrow at you but nods at you and goes back to work. Its not long before he stops again because he feels your hips moving against him and your little breathy whines "Is my Kitten needy? Does she need her Daddy to scratch an itch?" He teases as his hand slips under your house coat to find your completely naked under it.

"Naughty Kitten your not wearing anything under this robe are you? Did you come all the way downstairs like this just for Daddy?" He asks playing with your clit rubbing his fingers all over it before slipping 2 inside you to gently stroke your insides.

You whine and try to ride his hand but his other arm keeps you pinned so all you can do is accept what he gives you. "Hmmm i think my naughty kitten needs to be punished. Stand up Kitten and take my pants off me" Hitoshi comands you.

You drop to your knees and begin undoing the belts around his waist, once all the belts are opened you begin unbuttoning his pants and pull his pants and boxers down just enough that his semi hard cock is freed.

"Take me in your mouth Kitten, get me hard and then i want you to impale yourself on my cock, but you cant move and you cant touch yourself. Your going to be my little cock sleeve until im done with these reports. If your a good girl and listen to Daddy, I'll fuck you so hard you wont be able to see straight and let you cum as many times as you can. But if your a bad girl. Daddy won't let you cum and only Daddy will and it wont be inside that pretty little pussy of yours, oh no Daddy will cum inside his little Kittens ass if she decided she doesnt want to listen to Daddy." Hitoshi tells you groaning as your mouth works his cock into a standing ovation.

Once he's cock is hard he pulls your mouth off of him and helps you stand up. He takes your robe off you and helps you situate yourself on him. Both of you groan at feeling him slid into your wet snatch. "Fuck Kitten you always feel amaizng around my cock." Hitoshi groans out.

You moan at feeling your Daddy slid in you. Your hips want to move so badly against him, to say to hell with it and just fuck him into the chair but you know your Daddy. If you did that he'd punish you severely.

"Such a good Kitten. Now remember dont move. Dont even try squeezing me. You just sit there in my lap, with my dick in your pussy like a good girl so i can finish these reports and then Daddy'll take care of you." Hitoshi said as he started back up his paper work.

After what felt like eons Hitoshi finished his paperwork, he could feel how soaked his shirt and pants were from your leaking pussy, your body twitching every so often. You whine at every move Hitoshi does your body so sensitive. "Daddy, please. Please can I move please Daddy. Wasnt i a good girl. I didnt move. I didnt please Daddy." You beg Hitoshi your body unconsciously giving into little movements. Hitoshi groaned and grabbed your hips stilling you against his. "Kitten, kitten dont worry Daddy knows what you need. Let Daddy take care of you." He grabs you by the hips and picks you up and places you on his desk he leans against you and kisses you deeply "God Kitten you looks so fucking hot wrapped around my dick begging me to fuck you" he groans against your neck, biting down on the seam between your shoulder and neck sucking the skin into his mouth hard enough to leave marks on you. You moan and whine your hips stutter against Hitoshi's .

Hitoshi moans his hips snap forward his pelvic bone hits your clit causing you to claw his arms and upper back as you let your head fall back exposing your neck. Hitoshi puts his mouth against your neck as he starts moving his hips agaisnt your "Fuck Y/N, fuck your pussy feels so fucking good Kitten" he groans and kisses you hard.

He shoves you down so you lay flat on your back on his desk as he grabs your hips to really start pounding you. "Yeah thats it, moan for me Kitten. Let me hear how much you love it when i fuck you like this." He snaps his hips hard against you with every word. He keeps the pace up for a few more minutes until he feels that your body is close to cumming "Thats it Kitten, cum on my cock. Fucking cum. You hear me Kitten. I want you to cum, now!" Hitoshi yells out as he starts to cum inside you his one hand going to your clit and he starts rubbing it hard to get you to cum. Your back arches and you scream out "DADDY OOOOO FUCK DADDY IM CUMMING TOSHI."

Hitoshi smiles at that and slows down pulling himself out of you slowly and gently lets your hips rest on his desk. He watches as his cum drips out of you slowly. He pulls his pants back up over his hips but doesnt button them back up. He goes to the attached bathroom and grabs a washcloth and wets it down with some warm water, he brings it back and starts to clean you gently.

Hitoshi makes sure your ok, sitting in his chair as he goes down to the kitchen to gather up some bottles of water and snacks for the two of you. "Ok Kitten, im going to pick you up. Ok? Im here. We'll go to bed and cuddle until we fall asleep. I love you Kitten." Hitoshi tells you softly as he comes back into his office seeing you wearing your robe again. "Ok Toshi. I love you more." You hold your arms out to him.

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

Hope you like this anon. It was alot of fun to write for Shinsou. ;)

[writeanapocalae]

Inktober: Laced Drink

Warning for robot body horror, poisoning, and alcohol use

They were at a bar, they were having a good time, celebrating Hopkin’s retirement. Gavin didn’t much care for Hopkins but his partner would be quick in saying that he didn’t much care for anybody. That wasn’t true. He cared for Tina, who was already too drunk to keep quiet, and he cared about Nines, who was sitting next to him at the bar, watching the scene unfold. Truly, they were being far too loud for a normal party, but there had been so much stress and other than Anderson and the androids, everyone was drinking like the prohibition was going to start back up the next day.

There were a few other patrons there, all of them glaring or laughing along. This wasn’t really a party bar normally, but it was close to the station and one that Hopkins frequented apparently. Gavin laughed, or guffawed, as he saw Tina try to get a complete stranger to dance with her, leaning back, his back against the bar, his hand landing solidly on Nines’ thigh.

The android didn’t react. He looked at Gavin and then the rest of the room, but it’s LED didn’t even blip differently. It was nothing, there was nothing to respond to.

The stranger said yes and Tina dancing was even funnier than her asking a strange woman to join her. It did start a series of others to get up and dance as well though. Gavin wasn’t going to, he was fine where he was, making faces and fun of his coworkers making fools of themselves. He was fine where he was, really. But then Connor was there, a hand extended, asking him in that polite but almost human way to dance with him. He looked to Nines and Nines still didn’t respond. In fact, his eyes were now on the floor. He didn’t want to dance with Gavin, he was too much of a machine, even though he had been turned deviant almost immediately after activation. Gavin still didn’t know what all that meant.

He took Connor’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled towards the others. He was still trying to make up for how he’d treated Connor in the beginning, surely a dance couldn’t hurt their shitty relationship.

It felt good to dance, to be a part of things. He felt like a pretty decent dancer, either because he was less drunk or because Anderson was absolutely atrocious and the androids were copying drunk humans with absolutely no experience. He wondered if he’d get teased in the morning, if anyone would remember tonight enough to get him crap for having fun for once instead of swearing and flipping them off. That would be his response, at least.

A flicker of yellow while he spun. A blinding flash of red between blinks while he sang along with some song that was so old that he knew all the words from osmosis.

Another turn and he caught on, looking over at whatever must have been the problem. Nines was still sitting at the bar but now he was sitting next to some stranger. The man had a smirk on his lips, similar to the one that Gavin tended to wear. He was handsome in a way that Gavin wasn’t though, and dressed a little bit better, and he had his hand on Nines’ while they spoke. It made a knot in Gavin’s stomach twist. He had felt jealousy before, when Anderson got a promotion and he didn’t, at friends genuinely enjoying one anothers company, at the way that words and kindness came so easily to some people. It felt a lot like this, though this was far sharper.

He had no need to feel jealousy though. Sure the guy was flirting up a storm and Nines was drinking something blue, probably straight up thirium, without moving away from the stranger’s touch, but the LED was bright red and spinning. Gavin wasn’t so good at telling Nines’ emotions, but that was a pretty good tell that he wasn’t interested, that he was uncomfortable, that he didn’t want this man’s attention.

Gavin swam against the crowd of coworkers, stumbling a bit as the alcohol hit him harder because of the exercise, but making his way to the bar. When he got there he half draped himself against Nines’ chest, arm wrapped around his shoulders. Nines didn’t like physical attention very much, but the LED blinked instead of spun and that had to be better, right?

“Are you alright, Detective Reed?” Nines asked. He had gotten it into his head to not scan Gavin at all times but he hadn’t figured out to call Gavin by name, even though Gavin told him too all the time.

“Nah,” Gavin smiled, the charming smile of someone who wanted to get into a fist fight with a stranger. “Some asshole is spending time with my party pooper of a partner.”

“We were just talking,” the stranger growled, “Surely you cant have a problem with that.”

Gavin looked him over. His hair was shorter, his jaw stronger, his everything stronger, than Gavin’s and he knew that if he were to throw the first punch he wouldn’t be throwing the last. But Nines’ LED was now cycling between yellow and red so he must have been doing something right.

“You weren’t and I don’t have to be a detective to see that,” Gavin argued. “If there was a disco ball in here the whole bar would be bathed in red so don’t give me shit.”

The stranger blinked. Nines LED spun in a way that he knew meant that he was processing something. Then it froze solid finally, but stuck half yellow and half red. He’d never seen it stop like that before.

“That doesn’t make any sense Detective.” Nines stated.

Gavin just waved it off, “Doesn’t matter. I want you to get away from my partner.”

The guy put up his hands and got up away from the counter. “Fine, fine. Not my fault it didn’t mention it was in a relationship.”

It? For someone who had seemed so interested in Nines, he didn’t seem to respect pronouns much.

He put his hand on Nines’ shoulder. “You okay?”

Nines picked up his drink, swirling it a moment before he brought it to his lips and drained it. His LED swirled for a moment and then went back to blue. “I’m fine. Now. You noticed that I was uncomfortable.”

“You know you can say no, right?” Gavin ruffled his hair. It didn’t work, the strands falling back into their perfect places. “He buy you a drink?”

Nines nodded. “I know that I do not have to accept a drink or a conversation from a man, Detective. I still have a hard time saying no to people though. I feel it’s something deficient with my programming.”

Gavin looked him over. “You’re not a machine though, you’re a deviant. You don’t have to follow anyone’s orders. Phck, you never follow mine.”

Nines eyes were on the floor again. “It’s not just my mechanical nature. It is caused by my personality algorithm, as small as it is, the desire to be seen as useful, proficient, and appeasing are high on my list.”

“Again, you never follow mine.”

Nines slid elegantly off of his stool, landing on his feet gracefully. “That is because you are an asshole.”

Gavin rolled his eyes at that, trying not to snort with laughter. It was rare when Nines swore and when he did it was hilarious, even if that one was barely a swear at all.

“You want to dance with us?” Gavin offered. “No pressure, y’know. You just looked like a sad puppy left out in the shitter over here by yourself.”

“I-”

There was no gradient. There was no blue, yellow, red. There was just blue and then bright red flashing, and Nines was putting his hand to his mouth, blue pouring out of his mouth, in between his fingers.

Gavin would have laughed at that, mostly because he was drunk and had been there, throwing up from one drink too many, but he wasn’t so drunk as to ignore the way that the LED was flashing, faster than he’d ever seen. And there was panic in Nines’ usually emotionless eyes. And he was grabbing for Gavin. And he was catching something in the thick stream of thirium. He’d never seen thirium be thick before.

“Woah woah woah!” The bartender was shouting at them, but Gavin didn’t care, he was grabbing Nines by the shoulders and dragging him to the bathroom, ignoring the way that the dancers went silent, all staring at him helping his almost prim and proper partner get to the restroom. There was a spattering of blue in their wake, leading a trail to them. It wasnt’ like they were hiding at all though.

Gavin got Nines to his knees in front of one of the toilets. Nines released his mouth and let the thirium run. It was definitely too thick.

And chunky.

Nines opened up his hand, fingers died blue. There were shards in his fingers, not glass but something sharp and clear. Gavin fell to his knees next to him, running a hand in circled on his back. He knew what to do if someone was throwing up, he’d been there enough times to be used to it, but he didn’t know what this was. Nines wasn’t throwing up, there was no pause in it, and there was no relenting. This was more thirium than one glass. This was enough to have been going into his actual systems.

The door flew open and Connor was rushing into the room, sliding to his knees on Nines other side.

“What happened?” Connor asked, pulling Nines’ sleeve up. Nines was averse to touch, Gavin probably wasn’t as soothing as he thought he was being, but he was much more averse to interfacing. Gavin had only seen him do it once and the android who had initiated it had to go in for repairs after. Gavin had asked, but Nines just shrugged and said that he’d pushed the android out a bit too hard.

“Someone gave him a drink. I’m guessing it was laced with something, but I have no idea what. Shouldn’t he have recognized it with his sensors or something?”

Connor wrapped his fingers around Nines’ wrist and closed his eyes. The skin peeled away from both of them, revealing bone white chassis, and Connor’s LED started to flash in the same painful strobe as Nines did. His face scrunched up, he was so much easier to read than Nines was, and he looked like he was in pain. After a few moments, after what felt like it was far too long, Gavin wanted to shove Connor away, but he didn’t know if that would make things worse.

Connor pulled back on his own, his LED calming and switching to a yellow and slow pulse.

“He’s been poisoned. Those shards are a compound that has crystalized in his systems, from a chemical reaction from different forms of thirium.”

“So like, a blood transplant that’s gone wrong?” Gavin asked. He’d seen pictures of what happened when that happened, a bit of morbid curiosity brought on by a bout of insomnia and too much thinking.

“Similar, yes. But since androids ingest the chemical that is intended to be their blood its happening far faster.”

Gavin brushed Nines hair back. He couldn’t hold it back for him, but there had to be some way that he could comfort his partner.

“How did he not notice?”

Nines closed his eyes, looking disappointed on top of everything else, as if he knew that he should have noticed it.

“The difference in the substances is extremely minor, it would be easy to miss if he was distracted. That man, Steven Matthews, was doing a good job of distracting him with that conversation. Guessing by how he objectified Nines and bought him the drink, I would assume that he knew that this would be the reaction.”

Gavin moved his hand from Nines’ back to his jaw, running his fingers along the strong angles. He was expecting Nines to pull away from him, not lean into the touch as much as he could as he continued to bleed out into the toilet.

“Does it hurt?”

Nines opened his eyes and stared Gavin in the eyes. He didn’t need Connor to tell him how it felt.

“It’s like having shards of ice grow in your veins, tearing you apart from the inside. It’s agony.”

Gavin’s eyes were burning. It was suddenly very hard for him to see, so much fluid in them that any blink would make him start to cry. He didn’t want to cry. He didn’t want to admit that he was afraid, or that he cared.

“What can we do?” Gavin asked, tearing his attention away from Nines and over to Connor.

“Wait, unfortunately,” Connor didn’t touch Nines, but he did put his hand on Gavin’s shoulder, as if it was the human that needed to be taken care of. “I contacted the closest tech team the moment I noticed that there was a situation, they should be here any minute now. Hank is on the floor, keeping the others from coming in and causing a scene and will direct them here.”

“Phck. Worst case scenario?”

“It wasn’t a metaphor that his blood is tearing him apart,” Connor said, voice suddenly quiet. “It’s going to be extensive repairs for an android that doesn’t have spare parts. They’re going to have to rebuild a lot of his external pieces. Worst case is death, of course but ignoring that is a long long recovery time and possibly not a complete rebuild.”

Gavin heard a few enthusiastic shouts from the bar. That must have been the techs arriving. It wouldn’t be much longer.

“You’re going to be okay,” Gavin lied because he knew that Nines had heard what Connor said. “You’ll see, they’re going to make you all shiny and new inside.” He pressed a small kiss to the LED and pretended that he didn’t see Connor staring. He’d never kissed Nines before. He didn’t want to kiss Nines like that. Hell, until that moment he didn’t realize that he even wanted to kiss Nines.

The techs finally got to the them, door opening and orders being given. Nines was pulled away from the toilet and laid down on his back. The techs immediately got to work, right there in front of them. They cut Nines’ shirt off of him and pulled out his thirium pump, the entire thing looking like a solid crystal.

Gavin tried to leave, to get out of the way, just a few steps, but Nines was reaching out, head falling to the side as they attached an external pump, one that was full of thirium. He was staring at Gavin, the thirium coming from his mouth finally a slow trickle. He could see inside of his mouth, see more crystals in there, as the silence wasn’t from pain or an unwillingness, but from his mouth being completely plugged with the chemical reaction.

When Gavin didn’t understand what Nines needed, he started to clench his fist, a sound like a whimper gurgling out of him. The techs were shouting to one another, and Nines skin was fading away from his arms and chest so they could open him up. He could see what looked like spooks being pressed to Nines’ insides, as they scraped what they could clean.

The whine grew worse. Nines was having a hard time moving his hand, everything inside of it freezing up. It must have been torturous just to try to move.

A hand grabbed him by the wrist and Connor dragged him closer, placing Gavin’s hand against Nines’. The broken gurgling sound softened slightly, the knot of his brows relaxing. Gavin was a detective, not an idiot, he knew what to do in that moment, finally. He wrapped his fingers around Nines and he held on for dear life. Nines didn’t hold his hand back, his fingers too frozen to clasp him, but he didn’t break eye contact, and Gavin only shifted out of the way when the techs needed him to get out of the way.

[vcdanvers]

Flour and Trouble

A/N: (5-6-19) HEY!! This is my submission for @cant-control-their-fear-imagines  her Summer Writing Challenge- she’s awesome and if you’re reading this, you should definitely pay her blog a visit (:

Prompts: 1 (What’s in that bag and why are you hiding it there?)/14 (Quick! Hide behind the sofa!)

Y/N = Your Name

L/N = Your Last Name

Summary: Mischievous!Reader x Natasha Romanoff, R is known to be a prankster but this time she goes a little too far for a certain someone’s liking. R feels the consequences of this and tries to make it up to Natasha. Fluff. One Shot.

Word count: 1700 something

Warnings: A wee bit of angst but that’s made up for with a lot of fluff- promise.

Disclaimer: I have never written anything before, please have mercy on me, thankS!!! (also your feedback is really appreciated, or, like, leave a like because it’d be cool to know at least one person has read this HAHA)

 It was no secret that Y/N had some curious tendencies. Her mischievous personality was adored but also got her into trouble, more often than she’s willing to admit. Luckily for her, being one of the younger Avengers in the compound, she was let off the hook easily. A little pout was all it took for her fellow team members to have mercy on her (It was incredibly endearing, after all).

Or, well, that was almost always the case. Last time things took a turn and she ended up having to clean the dishes for a week long. If you’d ask her, that was one week to many. But she did really cross the line that time.

 ‘I’m so incredibly bored’ you had whispered to yourself. You had woken up early that morning and was, once again, out for some “good ol’ fun”. After spending your morning gathering the materials you needed, you were ready to start assembling everything for your self-proclaimed master plan. Not only were you mischievous, you were also incredibly resourceful and innovative. The simplest of items could be turned into yet another device to terrorize your team members. This time around you had picked Natasha as your specific target. Natasha had appeared very focused these last couple of days and you thought there would be no harm in trying to distract the redhead a little.

 After setting up your table with a funnel, a bowl, some flour, scissors and Natasha’s hairdryer that you had “borrowed” from her room-without permission- you were ready to get to work. You grabbed the scissors and carefully opened the pack of flour. You created a small opening and poured some of the flour into the bowl. The hairdryer was balanced between your knees to ensure it would be kept upright as you poured the contents of the bowl through the funnel and into the hairdryer. You were ready and all that was left to do now was wait until Natasha would have her daily sparring session. While she was out at the gym, you had time to put the hairdryer back without getting caught and as Natasha would always take a shower after working out, the effects of your prank would soon be revealed. Two birds with one stone, you thought.

 It wasn’t long before you heard a surprised scream from Natasha’s room, followed by her screaming out your name. This was your cue to start running. Natasha was not amused and was out for blood. Your blood, to be more specific. You could hear her footsteps closing in and you knew there was little time left before she would catch you.

Wanda, who had seen the scene unravel, decided to help you out. ‘Quick! Hide behind the sofa!’ she told you and with a swift movement you were on the ground, squashed between the sofa and the wall. You held your breath as you heard Natasha approach Wanda. ‘WHERE IS Y/N’. The words bounced off the walls and came out like a statement rather than a question. Wanda pretended not to know but the Widow was too keen on reading body language and saw right through her. You were close and she knew it.

 A mere 30 seconds later you were roughly pulled from behind the couch by your feet. ‘Y/N WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH TIME THIS IS GOING TO TAKE TO GET OUT AND TO NOT EVEN MENTION THE MESS THAT IS IN MY ROOM RIGHT NOW!’ The string of words came fast and angry. ‘I’m sorry, it wasn’t my intention to anger you I just-’. You were cut off before you could further explain yourself. ‘Not your intention to anger me? What did you THINK was going to happen, genius?’. ‘Nat, I’m sorry, really.’ you tried again. Natasha just rolled her eyes and sighed as she angrily walked off, done with your antics.

 Today marks eight days since your little mishap. You had behaved perfectly the past week and a bit, you had cleaned Natasha’s room and did the dishes- like Tony had ordered- with no real complaints. Sure, you thought it was a little unfair considering you hadn’t actually meant to piss Natasha off but you understood the reason behind it. You had tried apologizing to Natasha, multiple times, but she had had enough and clearly was not ready to accept your apology- yet. An idea came to you, ‘What makes everything better? Food. Duh’. You were going to bake her a cake, she would surely talk to you again, right? To make sure your idea would remain a surprise, you weren’t going to let anyone else in on your little plan.

 This resulted in you having to go to the supermarket to collect all the ingredients you needed to bake your cake, all the Avengers were observant and would notice the missing ingredients, which could endanger the secrecy of your plan. You pretended to head to bed early, saying ‘Goodnight’ at just 10PM. You, however, set an alarm for 2.30AM to start your kitchen adventures. You made yourself comfortable and dozed off until you were rudely shaken out of your slumber at 2.30 in the morning. You were quick to turn off the atrocious beeping sound coming from your phone before it could awaken anyone else.

 After having gathered all your previously bought items into a bag you snuck out your room and made your way to the kitchen. You made sure to be extra quiet as you walked through the hallway, past the other bedrooms. As you got to the kitchen you should have noticed a dim light coming from the area, but in your sleepy state, this detail went completely over your head. You were softly humming to yourself, something you did often without noticing. This time it was to the tune of ‘Somebody To Love’ by Queen. This notified the person currently in the kitchen of your presence before you were aware of theirs. As you pushed the door open your eyes fell onto Natasha, who was standing against the counter, eyebrows raised at you. Startled by the unexpected presence you let out a small screech and nearly fell backward, only regaining your balance last second.

 ‘N-Natasha, hey’ you managed to squeak out as a blush made its way to your cheeks. Her expression went from amused to unimpressed upon noticing the bag you were desperately trying to hide behind your legs. ‘Really, Y/N? Another prank, at this hour?’. ‘No, no, I’m not. This is not what it looks like.’ you stuttered out, intimidated by the piercing green eyes staring at you. ‘Then what’s in that bag and why are you hiding it there?’ You held your head down and were thoroughly inspecting your black and white fuzzy socks as you mumbled out ‘I was going to bake a cake for you, to say sorry, because I really miss you and I’m sorry’. Still a bit skeptical, Natasha had to make sure you were speaking the truth ‘Show me what’s in the bag.’ she commanded. You clumsily retrieved the bag from behind you and handed it to her, still too worried about the look on her face to look her in the eyes. As she took the bag she was slightly surprised to find it was, indeed, filled with baking goods.

Unbeknownst to you, the redhead’s expression softened. She stepped towards you, taking your hands in her own. Seeing you so intimidated by her wasn’t something she enjoyed, she wanted to be taken seriously but she didn’t want to be feared by the younger girl.

She spoke softly, trying to be gentle with you given your current state ‘Y/N? It’s okay. I’m not mad anymore. It’s sweet you wanted to bake a cake for me.’

 Her statement surprised you and you felt a wave of relief wash over you, your Natasha wasn’t upset with you anymore. Blood rushed to your cheeks at your own thoughts, Natasha wasn’t yours by any means but you have had a little crush on her for ages. Lost in your thoughts, you only looked up to face Natasha as you heard her calling your name. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked. Your usual goofy grin made its way back to your face as you told her that you were, in fact, okay. More than okay, but she didn’t need to know that. The redhead didn’t look convinced yet, so you wrapped your arms around her torso and leaned into her.

 You made a muffled noise that Natasha was able to identify as “promise”. She couldn’t help but grin at the girl in her arms- she had a soft spot for you and she knew it. As you yawned, Natasha freed herself from your grip, glancing at the clock and seeing it was now dangerously near 3AM. ‘I think it’s time we both head to bed, don’t you think Y/N?’. In return, you pouted at her ‘But what about your cake?’. She slightly rolled her eyes at your comment while remaining a smile on her face, thinking it was quite endearing that you were so hung up on the idea of making her a cake and “finding a better use for flour” as you had jokingly said before. ‘How about we bake it tomorrow instead? Together?’ she suggested, to which you eagerly agreed. Truthfully, you’d take every opportunity you could get to spend some one-on-one time with the beauty in front of you.

 Natasha pulled you out of your thoughts- once again- as she got a hold of your hand and looked at you expectantly. ‘You coming, L/N?’ she asked teasingly. You ignored her little remark and nodded, walking to your room together. As you had reached your bedroom door you paused. ‘Thank you. For forgiving me, I mean. And walking me to my door, of course’ you said shyly, your actions causing the Widow to gaze at you softly. ‘Anytime’ she said, bringing her arms around you once more and letting a small peck linger on your temple before turning around and making her way back to her own room. ‘Goodnight’ she said just audible enough for you to hear and soft enough to not awaken anyone else. ‘Sweet dreams!’ you called back, a little less careful than Natasha had been, earning a chuckle from the redhead.

[ghostmaggie]

hey so in your MKAT post (which you’re 100% correct about) you also mention you’ve had some issues with RT in the past. i’m fairly new in the fandom and also watch his other show iZombie, but i wanted to ask what issues they were?? i like to be informed about the media i consume lmao

Oof okay so I'm on mobile and therefore this will probably be more rant-y and opinion-based than you might be looking for, so I invite anyone with opinions or sources or thoughts or contradictions to reply or shoot me asks and I'll share them (plus I'm curious of other thoughts) but,,

Idk if this was clear in my original post, but my issues are mainly contained within the actual show as opposed to things about him irl, because idk that much outside of secondhand info, so take it with a grain of salt I guess, lol

Also, I feel like I need to say that this is really negative about vmars--which, to be clear, is a show I love dearly--and I know sometimes I like to avoid negative commentary on things I enjoy because it gets stuck in my head and ruins my enjoyment. So if that's you, feel free to skip this! I wont be offended and you shouldn't feel bad about it! It's also just one person's opinion, and I'm most definitely not always right :)

So mostly setting aside the brand new season because I have no clue how to talk around spoilers effectively, in short (with spoilers up through the movie and maybe some spoilers for the books and new season, I cant really tell at this point):

(Editor's note post finishing writing: it's not even all my thoughts, but it's not short. Sorry.)

RT shares in the grand tradition of showrunners I do not care for along with Steven Moffat and Jason Rothenberg, for many parallel reasons. Moffat thinks hes cleverer than he really is, jroth is a douche about romance and character motivation, and both are smug jerks who drove me away from shows I used to love, so.

So number one I guess would just be the sense that he really fucking does not care about the fans. It's especially egregious, as I've seen others point out, when he literally would never have gotten his show back (after driving it to the ground) without the LITERAL MONEY donated by devoted fans. I'm not saying you have to do things just because fans want them, but to go out of your way to do things you know fans will hate just to be contrary is,, yeah.

He thinks he's so very smart, and yet his plots are riddled with holes and inconsistencies (hello, Moffat). It speaks, to me, of a lack of respect for everyone involved--fans, writers, actors, crew, critics, just everyone. Write down a timeline. Something. Try.

One of my bigger issues, though, is that the misogyny in vmars is just...beyond appalling. Not just narratively--i understand representing the flaws in society, I guess, but veronica is honestly one of the most misogynistic parts of the show, and she is never ever ever held accountable for it. Ever. The show never sends the message that she's wrong for the atrocious way she treats, to name a few, Madison, Kendall, Gia, and even Carrie during the s1 plot with Adam Scott. The carrie thing is especially fucked up bc iirc the narrative only condemns her for guessing the victim wrong. (As another note, her treatment of other marginalized groups or basically anyone she ever treats badly--logan, Keith, Wallace, weevil, the list goes on--is rarely or never narratively critiqued. Veronica mars can do no wrong, apparently, even when she's obviously wrong.)

She's far from the only example of misyogny, of course--duncan's s2 dream about madonna/whore meg/veronica comes to mind in screaming color, yet donut is somehow treated like a prince forever and ever and v's lost true love even though he's basically the scum of the earth (pardon, my true feelings are coming out a little here).

Somewhat connected is, of course, the show's treatment of rape in general (hi, season 3), but especially Duncan's rape of veronica. I'm still not over the way they walked it back to "not a rape" and took back holding him accountable. I live for all the fanfiction that addresses it, because at least there people remember that, whether he "thought she could consent" or not, he literally thought she was his sister and didnt know. That's uninformed consent at best, babe!

And if that wasn't bad enough, to "resolve" that plotline and then come back at the end of season 2 to be all, "jk! You WERE raped, by SOMEONE ELSE [too]! Enjoy that reenabled trauma, and some chlamidya to boot!"

Speaking of retconned instances of sex, how about that piz/veronica tape that suddenly became full on sex in the movie? Fun times.

My favorite bout of misogynistic writing, you ask? That would have to be "narratively-enforced nicest girl in school who stands by her friends and is sweet and loyal becomes a raging hell bitch yet also the representation of misogynistic virginal innocence because she was knocked up and abandoned by Mr. Narratively-Claimed-to-be-Perfect-but-Actually-the-Worst and completely undergoes a 180 personality change then dies for plot reasons" because holy fucking shit.

Okay sorry I got way more into that than I meant to. I'll try to wrap up.

RT does a very jroth job of treating fans like shit for giving a shit about a romantic relationship he created. He acts like fans are a bunch of stupid girls for caring about romance, but then pushed it at every level of promo to reel us back in. Make up your mind, asshole. It's desperately unfair to bait fans with romantic promo (even in the form of an inane and ooc love triangle) and then snap back with "oooh it's noir, shut up about the romance!"

If that's how you feel, stop making every other plot point and promo about the fucking romance.

RT seems to want to be making a show that he isnt. He wants to be grimdark and angsty and awful, I guess, and while there have been elements of effective darkness throughout vmars, they have been tempered by the show as a whole. That made it (mostly palatable) for people like me. To flip the script now does a disservice to long term fans and does nothing to attract new viewers. If you want to make a different show, make a different show. Don't drive beloved characters into the ground because you're bitter about how your work is perceived post-death of the author.

To wrap up--he hates character growth. He must really hate it. This is dipping a little into the new season, but he just. Won't let anyone develop. Well. Maybe some people. A very few. But not veronica. Never veronica. Because heaven forbid your main character, the person we've followed for 15 years, be anything other than she was at 16. Her personality, her approach to the world, none of it has changed. Which begs the question: what has been the fucking point?

Sorry this is so long. I'm not sure I even answered your question, so feel free to ask me to try again 😂

[basic-banshee]

large black coffee (part 6)

A Carry On Coffeeshop - AU/ College - AU | inspired by this beautiful art.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7

I’m in his bed, in his clothes, taking comfort from his smell and waiting for him to come home to me.

Simon

He’s here.

He’s here in my flat and he’s not kissing me.

I’m kissing him, but he’s just sort of sitting there not moving. He made some kind of noise that sounds like a sigh (a good sigh?) so I push my mouth into his further, I move my chin a bit, but he’s not responding.

This can’t be happening.

I break away. 

I can feel the blood roaring in my ears and I stare at him because I can’t believe I got that so entirely fucking wrong. Burn me alive right now, bury me at sea, I just kissed Baz Pitch and he didn’t kiss me back. 

Of all the immense cock-ups of my life, this must be the biggest one.

“Simon,” he says. I back up until my legs almost hit the couch. 

“Sorry,” I stammer. 

“Simon,” he starts again, and hearing him use my actual name is too much. I feel like I’m going to cry.

“That was dumb of me,” I say, shaking my head. “Just forget it.”

“Simon,” he’s standing now, coming toward me, and I can’t look him in the eyes. I can’t even look at him. I’m staring at the floor when I see him take my hands, and I feel the shock reverberate through me. My body is on fire and I feel him rub his thumb over my knuckles. He leans forward and presses his forehead to mine and the gentle touch of his skin is too much. I’m seared at the point of contact. My legs feel weak, and I think I’m shaking. He’s taller than me, and he’s leaning down and looking at me, and a strand of his hair is in my face, hanging between us.

“What?” I don’t know what else to say.

“I want to kiss you,” he says. He smiles. “I want to kiss you so fucking badly. But I’m very sick, and I’m high as shit on cough medicine right now, and I think I’m contagious. And this is not at all how I thought this would happen.”

Oh.

I feel myself expand from within, and I can’t stop the smile that’s coming to my face. He does want to kiss me. Baz Pitch wants to kiss me. Baz Grimm-Pitch has thought about kissing me. He has an idea of how he wants to kiss me.

“I don’t care,” I say, leaning my head up and moving toward his lips again, but he steps back and shakes his head. (He’s still holding my hands.) He’s smiling. It looks brilliant on him.

“Yes, but I mind, and if you get sick then I’ll just get reinfected and I’d like to not spend the rest of my life on cold syrup.”

“I don’t mind,” I say again. I can’t stop smiling. I go to kiss him again, but he takes yet another step back.

“Simon, really, I’m sick.”

“You look fine to me. You look great.”

I’m ready to pounce on him, to attack him again and make him understand how thoroughly I don’t mind his congested nose when I see the shadow pass over his face and he falters.

“I feel like I’m about to pass out,” he whispers. Reality comes rushing back with a bang. He does look sick. He’s still got the dark circles and his eyes look a bit glassy, and he’s paler than usual. I remember the feel of his forehead on mine, sending lances of heat through my body. Maybe it wasn’t just tension that was warming me.

Shit, he must really feel awful. Really, really awful. Should I take him to A&E? No, he’d probably try to throttle me.

“Right,” I say, snapping out of my single-minded lust. “No problem.”

Baz

I’ve never hated myself as much as I do in this moment. Simon Snow kissed me. Simon Snow wants to kiss me again. He’s practically salivating and tripping over himself in his desire to kiss me.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t deliberately imagine that hunger in eyes sometimes. 

I feel like I’m going to vomit. My hand is shaking, the world is spinning, and I’m too dizzy to stand suddenly. I’ve lived my life in preparation of the moment that’s before me now, and my body is ruining it.

Snow has already snapped to attention, and he stops looking at me like he’s going to eat me alive, but the smile doesn’t fade.

“Tea, right? You need tea. Sit down.”

My traitorous body collapses onto the couch behind me. I hate myself.

Snow is already in the kitchen futzing around and clucking at me like a gran. I cannot believe that I’ve spent the last year imagining an erotic gropefest with him, only to get my opportunity and have it turn into Snow fussing over me like I’m a fainting lady.

He’s back at my side with tea impossibly fast and he hands it to me with that bursting smile of his. He hands it over slowly, and in doing so he steals my trick, rubbing his thumb over my hands. The feel of his skin sings through me like a cello, my own slow heartbeat adding the low thrum of bass.

I sip the tea slowly, not taking my eyes from him.

It’s delicious, and far too sweet, and I hate that he knows about my sweet tooth. It feels brilliant. It tastes brilliant. (He’s brilliant.)

“Why did you come if you aren’t feeling well?” he asks. His voice is soft.

Because I wanted to see you.

“We had a project to do.”

“I could have done it,” he says. “Or I could have just emailed you, or gone to your flat or something so you didn’t have to drag yourself out.”

I deliberately avoid thinking about Snow, at my flat, taking care of me. I think about my aunt Fiona, and what an atrocious roommate she is, and how she would react to Snow, in our flat, taking care of me. I hate how desperately I want it.

“It’s not a big deal, Snow,” I snap. “I’m contagious, I’m not dying.”

“You called me Simon before,” he says with a grin. He leans in to me and I think for a wild, pulsing moment he’s going to try to kiss me again, and I’m going to let him.

“No I didn’t,” I snap.

He’s still leaning, but then he’s reaching behind me for a blanket, and he’s wrapping it around my shoulders and I feel like the world’s biggest numpty. This is humiliating, and I hate myself for how much I love this. 

I can’t properly remember the last time someone doted on me like this. My mother, I assume. I was never comfortable asking Daphne, my stepmother, for solace, and my father wouldn’t know how to give it. Fiona has been actively making fun of me for being sick, and yet Snow — bumbling, moronic Snow — doesn’t even hesitate. Just hands me tea and a blanket.

Snow has gone back to retrieve the takeaway and my computer, and now he’s joining me on the couch. He’s scrolling through my computer and I have to fight the urge to grab it away from him, to snap it shut.

“You’ve done almost the entire project,” he marvels. “You’re high on a fever and you’ve typed up a perfect presentation.”

“I didn’t do it all,” I snap. My eyes feel blisteringly heavy. This blanket is extremely warm.

Snow has kicked off his shoes and pulled his legs up, and he looks devastatingly comfortable. I do the same, even though every nerve in my body feels like it’s turning in on itself and I’m so nervous I could vomit. Or maybe that’s the headache? I cant tell. All I know is that I want to sleep and I want Simon Snow to kiss me until I’m dead.

Simon

Baz is asleep on my couch.

I have absolutely no protocol for this. What do you do when you snog your worst enemy and then he falls asleep on your couch? 

I had been talking about the project just to fill the silence, because I had to get my mind off kissing him, and then I looked up and he was just…asleep.

His legs are tucked up under him and he took off his shoes at some point and he’s wearing very reasonable black socks. They match, unlike the ones I’m wearing right now. His head is rolled to the side and is resting on the back of the couch, just inches from my own.

I took the mug from him because I didn’t want it to spill, and I put another blanket on him because I think he gets cold easily. But other than that I haven’t wanted to move much. I don’t know how he’s going to react when he wakes up, so I’ve just been sitting here, in the same position, fiddling around on his computer trying to finish this presentation so he won’t have to worry about it.

Absolutely nothing in my life could have prepared me for how tonight is going.

It’s unnerving how vulnerable he looks right now. I keep expecting him to fly up and tell me it was a trap and punch me in the throat. 

He also looks too fucking good to be passed out from cold syrup. On my couch. When I got the winter bug last year I looked like I had gone through an exorcism, and yet here he is, looking like a posh asshole and wearing proper trousers.

I want to kiss him.

That would be creepy though. Massively creepy, and invasive, right?

I finish our project (my part is shit, even with all his work) and slowly put his computer on the table next to us. He stirs a bit when I move and he stretches, gracefully, like a fucking cat, and his legs unwind and he shifts slightly and then he’s leaning into me, his warm weight pressing against my shoulder.

I sit there, breathing, just waiting for him to stir before I tentatively place my hands on either side of his shoulders and steer him down, toward me, toward my chest, and then suddenly Baz is here, in my flat, in my lap, sleeping against me.

He makes a small sighing noise and buries his face further into the couch. He’s perfect. He’s absolutely fucking perfect.

Baz

It’s the light that wakes me. It’s wrong. It’s too bright; far too bright for my room. I squint my eyes open and it takes too much effort. I shut them again.

But my mind is already processing the view before me: a series of books scattered on the floor, a jumper slung over a chair. Simon Snow’s flat.

I go to sit up, and every bit of my body screams. I’m on his couch, his bloody uncomfortable couch, and someone has placed a pillow under my head and covered me with several blankets. There’s a box of tissues on the floor next to me, as well as a bottle of paracetamol, and a hot water bottle heater. There’s even a pair of joggers folded neatly next to it.

I hate the bristle in my eyes at this unexpected and entirely foreign sign of concern and support. It’s too kind. It’s too soft. It’s too Simon. I need to leave. 

I try to move sluggishly when I hear a rustling on my chest and look down.

Someone has taped a scrap paper to my chest.

I pull it off and stare at it blankly.

Snow’s handwriting is so atrocious that I have to squint at it for several moments before it finally swims into place.

Hey freeloader. Thanks for passing out in the middle of our conversation. I had to go to work. I’ll be off at noon. Don’t be a twat and try to drive home, you’ll just end up killing someone. My rooms on the left. Feel free to use my bed, just don’t fucking vomit in it. If you’re gone when I get back, I’ll kill you. - Simon

Snow wants me to wait for him in his bed.

It’s not even remotely the scenario in which I envisioned this happening, but at this moment everything hurts and for the first time in my life I’m too tired to be difficult. His note has steadied me. The insults feel familiar. His threat is what does me in.

I push back the blanket I’m lying under and pull myself off the couch. I stare at his joggers for far too long before I grab them, stagger toward the door on the left and open it tentatively, not at all prepared to be assaulted by the sight of Snow’s den of iniquity.

It’s a complete disaster. Clothes and books are everywhere. There’s a series of plants shoved on the available surfaces, and even in my state I can spot four Double Decker wrappers on the desk. 

My head screams as I peel off my trousers and shove my legs quickly into Snow’s joggers. Fuck all. This is going to kill me.

His bed is like a rat’s nest of blankets and pillows. It’s completely unkempt, unmade, probably a cesspool of Snow’s germs, and I collapse into it like a dying man reaching for water.

It’s all so intimate. It’s too intimate. It’s insane and unreal, and I feel invasive and voyeuristic lying in his bed, wearing his trousers, covering myself with his blanket and breathing in the scent of roasted coffee and cinnamon buns that envelopes me.

This isn’t what strangers do. We’re still strangers, right? We’ve gone from classmates to being openly hostile to being class partners to almost kissing (no; we did kiss. He kissed me. Even through the haze I still recollect this) to being — what? What is this?

I’m in his bed, in his clothes, taking comfort from his smell and waiting for him to come home to me.

This is what boyfriends do.

I’ve gone fucking mad. I’m a mental patient, thrown into an asylum, and Simon fucking Snow is holding the keys.

[starlight-parkers]

Being Tony Stark’s Daughter and Dating Peter Parker Would Include (Part 2):

Summary: Just dating Peter… and being Tony’s daughter.

Authors Note: This was highly requested in the comments and I really enjoyed making the last one, so here ya  go! <3

Warning(s): swearing and deadpool (again)

Being Tony Stark’s Daughter and Dating Peter Parker Would Include (Part 2):

•y'all “tis about to get wilD

•you and peter have a stable relationship™

-y'all don’t really fight

-if you do it’s something stupid

-“I CANT BELIEVE YOU ATE THE LAST BROWNIE, THE AUDACITY, I AM DISGUSTED, YOUR BEHAVIOUR IS ATROCIOUS”

-“ I’m lactose intolerant Peter”

-“YOU ARE A TERRIBLE- wait you are?!?!”

-“HAHAHA SIKE” *cue you running away with the last brownie*

•Tony usually mediates your fights.

-he doesn’t want his spiderlings to be sad.

-not good for his representation in the ‘approving dad’ world

-“(Y/N) I suggest you give Peter back his brownie”

-“I ate it”

-*tony giving you the scolding parent look*

-“what do you want me to do? Shit it out?”

-*cap bursts through the door* “LANGUAGE (Y/N)

•peter still uses pickup lines on you

-“my Spidey sense isn’t the only thing that’s tingling”

-“peter do you know what that means?”

-“yes it means I feel all tingly and happy when I’m around you”

-“BOiIi”

-he clearly gets these from Wade

•peter going on dad dates with Tony

-“I can’t believe you remembered our anniversary”

-“I could never forget it Mr Stark”

-“um Peter…you’re dating me?”

-“This is an A B conversation (Y/N) leave”

-your dad and Peter have probably been on more dates with each other than Peter has with you.

•you and peter are always together

-the avengers freak out when you aren’t.

-“WHERE IS THE LOCATION OF BROTHER PETER?? HAS HE JOINED THE DECEASED??? I SHALL AVENGE YEE MAN OF SPIDER”

-“Thor chill… he went to the bathroom”

•Peter always has his hands on you

-whether it’s holding hands, or he’s touching your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist.

-he likes to know that you’re always there.

•hUgS frOm BehInD

-y'all this is the only time Peter feels like he’s the big spoon

-he’ll rest his chin on your head and your back will be pressed to his chest

-aw™

•peter using his height to his advantage

-he’ll hide your things in high places

-so you call for help

-usually ends in you standing on him to get what you want.

•HICKieS yO

-it happened when you first showed Peter your room

-Tony told you to leave the door open but y'all didn’t let that bother you ;)

-“YOU HAVE TAINTED MY YOUNG PETER HE WILL NEVER BE THE SAME”

-“ father why do you not express this concern for me”

-“it’s because you’re the devils spawn”

•finally perfecting that spiderman kiss

-“WE FINALLY DID IT”

-“HELLS YEAH”

-“how do I get down?”

- *cue peter’s web snapping*

•stealing Peter’s clothes

-old and new

-he leaves a sweater at your place?

-BAM it’s yours

-buys a new shirt?

-BaM It’s yours

-he eventually runs out of clothes

-Tony buys him a new wardrobe

•having a meme group chat with Ned

-sending memes about spiderman

-peter regrets introducing you to Ned

•going on dates to the zoo

-Peter taking pictures of you admiring things

-a passerby reports Peter to the security guard for looking like a creep

-your dad has to bail peter out

•whenever peter loses you in a large group of people he always knows how to find you.

-“yo Pete where’s your girlfriend?”

-“hold on one sec” *shakes wallet*

-“DID I HEAR MONEY?!?!”

-“found her”

•spoiling peter bc you're filthy rich and he deserves the world

-“happy birthday baby!!”

-“(Y/N) is that a car???”

-*you smiling uncontrollably*

-”(Y/N) I can’t drive’’

-’’Its a keepsake’’ 

•convincing your dad to take peter on missions.

-instantly regretting it bc peter is a soft boi who needs protection.

-“If you die on this mission, I will kill you”

-updating the suit bc you must protec™

-“I’ve added extra padding to your suit to soften any falls”

-he literally cannot breathe now

•accidentally admitting that Tom Holland is your celebrity crush.

-“but we look exactly alike??”

-“don’t be ridiculous Peter, you look nothing alike”

•dates to museums and science exhibitions

-watching peter nerd out

-v cute™

•going out with Liz and Michelle for girls nights

-peter dropping in on you as part of ‘patrol’

-almost activating ‘instant kill mode’ when a guy talks to you

•you putting on the suit just to talk to Karan

-“am I the only one that thinks Peter smells like avocado? Like does he even eat avocado?”

-“I too have detected this unusual scent Ms Stark”

•Peter freaks tf out when you get sick

-like mental break down freak out

-he googles your symptoms

-which means he always thinks your dying.

-“I DIDNT KNOW WHAT SOUP YOU LIKED SO I BROUGHT ALL OF THEM USING YOUR DADS CREDIT CARDS”

-he brought like 50 tins of soup

-will not let you leave his sight

-“Peter I need to take a dump”

-“I’ll come with you”

•Wade is always crashing your dates

-he thinks you guys are friends

-“Wade will you ever leave us alone?”

-“Of course Peetie! When (Y/N)’s father accepts my adoption papers”

-“Why would a grown ass man need adopting?”

-“It’s to fund my expensive lifestyle”

-Wade also steals Peter’s wallet so he has an excuse to come along.

-eventually getting a restraining order on Wade.

•Star Wars marathons

-you thinking Luke Skywalker is hot

-Peter getting jealous

-he dresses up like Luke the next day.

•he finds your old spiderman fan account on tumblr

-when he does he just stares at you smugly from across the room.

-“what?”

-“oh nothing” ( ͡º ͜ʖ ͡º)

-he starts texting you the ( ͡º ͜ʖ ͡º) face.

-“so you bet spiderman is one sexy specimen under that mask?" ( ͡º ͜ʖ ͡º)

-you want to die

-"I will delete you from my life”

•going to Starbucks for your anniversary dates

•peter insisting you have him on speed dial just incase anything happens

-you mostly use it to get food

-“hi”

-“(Y/N)??? Are you okay??”

-“I’ll have a double cheeseburger and fries please.”

-“(Y/N) pls”

-“what? I’m hungry”

-“may I remind you that I am  not supposed to be used for ordering take out”

-“then what the fuck are you supposed to be?”

-“your boyfriend”

-“oh yes that too”

•you wear matching outfits to school sometimes

-you are the power couple of the school

•taking Tony’s car for a joy ride

-crashing it bc peter gets nervous and webs up the windscreen

-it’s all good tho

-you use his card to buy a new one

-and blame it on Wade

•cute goodmorning texts

-“make sure to brush your teeth, you have terrible morning breath xox ~ (Y/N)

-"please brush your hair today, yesterday you looked like a yeti that had been run over and drowned in toilet water <3 Peter”

•everyone noticing how whipped Peter is for you

-except you

-peter doesn’t even know what that means he’s so outdated

•Peter has coffee mornings with Steve

-you’re never invited

•sending each other selfies

-your ugliest ones usually end up as your lock screens

-“who’s that horrendous looking creature?”

-“my fucking boyfriend bish”

•you die when peter speaks Spanish

-“pan caliente”

-“ I don’t know what you just said but please let it be the only thing you say at my funeral”

-he said hot bread

•Peter worries about your wellbeing

-he sets up daily reminders on your phone to drink water

-irl it’s just him texting you h20 puns and jokes

•you are very territorial

-if a girl so much as looks at Peter

-you will snatch the weave

-one time you actually pulled out some girls hair

-Peter thought it was hot™

-Steve and Tony did not ™

•stony are your parents tbh

•like your dad you have a lot of issues

-you’re scared peter will leave

-but he never does

-he always comes back

•arcade dates

-Peter gives you a promise ring from a vending machine

-the avengers freak out and think it’s an engagement ring.

-Steve gives you a lecture about patience and how you should wait.

-Tony on the other hand…

-“I KNEW THIS DAY WOULD COME I HAVE BEEN PLANNING THIS FOR MONTHS”

-“Uh Mr Stark, we’re 17 and it’s just a promise ring”

-“You are both disappointments and disgraces to the Stark name”

���caring for him after missions

-cuddles

-back rubs

-Peter is very clingy at this point.

•knowing exactly what calms each other down.

•Training with Peter

-having a run on the treadmill whilst he does weights.

-you trip and hit your head

-Peter drops a weight on his foot bc he’s shook.

-you both go to hospital and agree never to workout together again.

•carnival dates

-peter sees a game and insists he wins a price for you

-he loses

-3 times

-you end up having a go and you win a fish

-peter has the fish for 4 days of the week and you have him for 3

-the fish is your son™

-his name is ‘the fish™’

•stargazing and talking about a future together

•you both trust and love each other a lot

•you love peter a lot

-although you don’t say it often

-you show it though

- but he already knows it

[yamlog]

today i allowed myself to take a good hard look at the rows of photos i have buried at the bottom of my feed and i made sure to focus my eyes, not let them blur and glaze over his face. i really looked at him. i looked at the way the light hit the cheekbones i really loved, i looked at the curve of his eyelids, i looked at the hint of ribcage beneath his tshirt. i think i had to, because seeing how mj is avoiding-but-not-avoiding her ex is making me understand that avoiding is not the way to go. her heartbreak is fresh, not even a month, but in many ways i am still behaving like her. i don’t listen to good advice and i avoid and avoid the source of pain. i think that by locking up and burying photos of him that i took when i was in love, i can grow out of it. but of course i am wrong, again, as usual, because even now when i stare at his face in the photos, knowing full well that i can never see this again in real life (he might as well be dead and cremated) i feel an ache. a real ache, not a metaphorical one. my chest literally twinges inside as if something’s twisting. and it gets hard to breathe. meanwhile all i can think about is how much i like what i am seeing and how sad it makes me to never reach it again. what is wrong with me though like seriously is this an imprint? did i grow some kind of dysfunctional neural pathway in the short time i was with him? it’s like programming i cannot change, what the fuck. at this rate, i wish i could turn blind so i will never have to see his face again or feel tempted to look at photos. but that’s silly, bc i need my eyes to earn a living. so i guess the next best thing would be to wish he really was dead so i can cry at his urn at the crematorium every week until i have properly mourned and can move on. i feel like a zombie. or maybe he is the zombie, neither here in my present reality nor there in a past that can be said to no longer exist. or maybe my heart is the zombie. or maybe my feelings for him is the zombie. aiya this is a difficult metaphor to wrap my head around. bottomline is, i’m pretty sure i still love him. i’d go back to him in a heartbeat. but he’s gone. dead, figuratively. i dont think i am living in the past because i am really making an effort to be here in the present and be here for all my friends who need me sometimes. but i have brought my feelings with me. they’re not “past feelings” they are PRESENT FEELINGS. right here and right now i still have living feelings. for a dead person. so what does that make me? stupid?? probably. maybe i should enforce a rule whereby i make myself stare at photos of him until the pain subsides. like cutting yourself until the nerves in your skin are so damaged and scarred over you no longer feel pain. i don’t know how long i can distract myself by going along with everyone else’s pace and physically doing the things to “move on” when in reality thinking about him still makes my nose sting and my eyes water. but he doesnt exist!!!!!! he cannot. so much time had elapsed it is so unlikely he has remained the same. employment, politics, interactions with others, maybe even new lovers must have reshaped him somehow. the person i love is probably not there anymore, or he’s been melted down and recast into a different form that i will not recognise.

i wish he wanted to meet me, and cared to see what kind of person i have become after all this. i miss him every single day. i still think about him every single night. sometimes i catch myself about to say his name and i have to close my throat before i utter and commit the atrocious act. i don’t dare find his socials because i’m terrified of what i might see. im afraid i’ll go to the cinema with mj next week, 2 heartbroken girls, and run into him holding hands with a woman i don’t recognise. i dont know how i’ll handle that. i may fling myself over the bannister of the spiral staircase and end my miserable existence on the spot. maybe i’ll take out a knife and slit my wrists on the spot so i can bleed to death with my eyes fixed on him and leave earth looking at the person i love most. on some level i do hope he has found happiness and is capable of making someone happy in a sustainable way that doesn’t put a strain on his career too much, but a big part of me still wishes i could be that person. it’s so pathetic to admit that i still wish and wish and wish i could be the recipient of his love. isn’t it so stupid to pine for treatment i won’t receive? why cant i be happy with someone else giving me double? a serious question. why does it have to be him? if only i could email god to ask.

if i do reach my deadline without being able to find happiness elsewhere and i do fling myself off some building or another, i dont think i’d like to be a ghost haunting and cursing him for all eternity anymore. i much rather there be no afterlife. no women living in banana trees. no vengeance, no reincarnation, nothing. i just want to stop existing and stop being conscious or anything. i want to disintegrate and take all my hurt and futile desire with me. no more boundaries no more self no more singularity. it would be so blissful to just dissolve and leave the fabric of existence and no longer think of him because there will no longer be a “him” because there will no longer be a “me” who “thinks.”

i wonder if he thinks of me still. i wonder what he thinks of, of him in relation to me, of me in relation to him, of me like this, of the suffering he MUST know he has caused. i dont think ive been the same person since october. it’s not like a simple apology can patch up a hole. i forgive, but the wound doesnt disappear with forgiveness. i forgive the stake in the heart because at my core i love love love love him, but the stake is still lodged in there. and i can’t die. not yet, at least. i dont think he knows the extent of the damage done. i still have nightmares every single night. i can’t remember the last time i had a good dream. i consider myself lucky when i wake up and immediately forget 95% of my bad dreams. i am so busy everyday but when im asleep i can’t manifest happiness. it’s all violence, and hatred, and meeting spectres from my past, and decay and weeping and pain. sometimes i feel the pain in my body itself. phantom and ungrounded but pain demands to be felt. i can’t just Wish it away.

i no longer believe in the possibility of miracles. but i still believe in a divine plan. if i am still unable to kill my love for him, there must be a reason. a good reason. maybe my ache makes me the friend my friends need when they get dumped. maybe i will be led by my pain to decide to join some event or cause, even if as a means of distracting myself, and end up meeting someone who really needs my support and friendship. maybe i can contribute to society in a way that i wouldnt be able to if i were perfectly happy. i like to believe that there is a purpose behind everything, even failure. and im not naive enough to think that the reason god has allowed to me suffer is because he will bring deliverance and turn a stone-cold heart back towards me. life isn’t a storybook. he won’t come back, and he won’t love me again. it’s fine. it’s fine if my continued misery could serve a greater purpose SOMEHOW. let me save one person. let me have the wells of empathy needed to say the right thing at the right time and improve someone else’s life. i cannot live like this with just myself and no contribution to the nett happiness of the world.

i did a tarot card reading for SH today, she visited my cats and we had lunch and talked about books. despite what happened at the start of the year ive found it in my heart to forgive and reconcile and take the first step in repairing our friendship. ive readjusted my expectations so i wont feel betrayed or letdown again in the future. and i recognise that she needs me more than i need her, which is a good enough reason to stay. pride is stupid. i decided years ago that i will not let pride get in the way. even if he thought i was pathetic. i dont care. love IS pathetic. my only regret was running away from him that day because i didnt want him to see me cry again. not because of pride but because i didn’t want to burden him even more. he would have been late for dance if i had allowed myself to stand there and cry. but maybe i should have. so now i will just put myself out there and move past friendship-level hurts. the reading was eerily accurate, even down to her sun sign. and extremely extremely apt for her because she’s starting uni soon and everything on the cards aligned. she jokingly said i was a witch. i only wish i was a real one so i can do Something, Anything.