#this took a lot longer than i thought it would.........

[mggslover]

Angel

In which Spencer sees his girlfriend fresh out of the shower for the first time, you looked angelic, and he was about to ruin you.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Girlfriend!reader Genre: smut (18+) Content warnings: spencer being horny, reader wears glasses, teasing, fingering, some spanking, p in v sex, facial, soft!dom spencer Word count: 3,8k A/n: this was supposed to be a short, smut no plot fic, but I got a little carried away...

The familiar goodbyes and sorrys were exchanged as you hung up the phone.

What was meant to be a romantic date out of town with your boyfriend had quickly turned into another one of those last-minute cancellations. It wasn’t surprising—Spencer’s work as a profiler came with its own set of unpredictable demands, and you were used to him being pulled away at a moment’s notice. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. You’d been looking forward to spending some time together.

You’d been dating Spencer for about three months, and things had progressed naturally from casual coffee dates to longer dinners and, eventually, a few trips to his place afterwards. As much as you enjoyed those nights, you wished they would last longer. You and Spencer made a habit out of quickies, knowing that at any moment his phone would inevitably buzz with a message or call from his colleague, Garcia. You couldn’t blame him for leaving, serial killers unfortunately didn’t work a nine to five. Spencer hated leaving you as well, making sure he offered you enough apologetic kisses and promises that he’d be back as soon as he could.

He always insisted that you could stay over at his place until he’d be back, but you never felt comfortable enough to do so. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy being at his place—you could already picture yourself curled up on the couch with one of his books, or take advantage of his bed, which was a lot bigger and more comfortable than yours. But it wasn’t quite home yet, at least not without him there.

With a resigned sigh, you decided to make the best out of the situation. It had been a long week, and you could use a night of self-care. As you set your phone down on the bathroom counter, you hit play on a playlist you’d made for such occasions—soft, calming melodies that would help you unwind. You pulled your hair back with a headband, took out your contacts, and started removing the makeup that took you half an hour to do earlier.

The bathroom mirror fogged slightly as the warmth of the shower filled the room. You hummed along with the song in the background, while you moved the cotton pads over your skin in a familiar motion.

As you finished, you carefully stepped out of your dress and turned toward the shower. The steam hit your skin as you slid into the stall, closing your eyes for a moment as the water hit your shoulders.

Without realizing, you spent a good hour in the shower. Once comfortably dressed, you let yourself sink into the plush cushions of your couch. A fuzzy blanket was draped across your just shaved legs, and the TV remote was within arm’s reach. You let out a content sigh, almost feeling as satisfied as you would be when being with Spencer.

—

Spencer’s signature melody of knocks broke your focus on the documentary you were watching. You swiftly moved up from the couch and checked the peephole on your door, just to be sure. A smile spread across your face as you saw Spencer rocking back and forth on his feet, plucking at the bouquet in his hands, straightening out each flower to perfection.

You opened the door with a big smile. “Hi, I wasn’t expecting you. I thought we cancelled tonight.”

He hesitates, a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks. “You’re right. I finished the case early, and I’ve been thinking about you all day. I just… wanted to see you.” His words came out more nervously than he intended. “I saw the lights were on, so I assumed you were awake.”

“I wasn’t asleep. Don’t worry,” you answered warmly. You glanced down at the bouquet in his hands. “Are these for me?”

“They are,” he replies, his voice softened as he handed them to you. “You said you liked lilies.”

“I do, thank you. They’re beautiful.” You accept the bouquet, moving to your tiptoes to give him a kiss. Having a boyfriend with an eidetic memory really is perfect.

“I’ll put them in water, come in.”

You moved to the open kitchen, so in awe of his sweet gesture that you were completely unaware of the way Spencer’s breath caught the moment you opened the door, how his pupils darkened when he inhaled your sweet scent and noticed the state you were in. Hair still damp from the shower you must’ve taken, wearing only a shirt, and your face bare besides the glasses you were wearing. Fuck… he didn’t even know you wore glasses.

He couldn’t deny how incredibly cute you looked. Spencer has only seen you during or after dates, and he loved how he could tell that you took the time to get yourself ready. Always wearing an outfit that fits you perfectly and having your makeup done in a way that enhances the features of your face. But it felt so intimate seeing how effortlessly beautiful you looked moving around in the comfort of your own home. You were beautiful in a way that seemed almost unfair, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the most captivating version of you he'd ever seen.

Spencer wasn’t able to take his eyes off of you as you walked to the kitchen, your breasts swaying with every step you took. The outline of your nipples were visible, because of the cold that escaped when you opened the door for him. Your bare legs reflected the warm kitchen light. He felt like he was about to lose his mind as you reached up to grab a vase from the top cabinet, the curve of your ass peeking out from underneath the shirt that you're wearing.

He felt guilty for the warmth that was spreading through him. He shook his head slightly, trying to reset his thoughts, but the temptation was there. Your easy grace, the way your bare feet padded across the floor, the gentle hum of the air between you—it all combined into something too alluring for him to ignore.

You could feel the heat radiating off of him as he moved behind you, placing a careful hand on your hip as he reached out to grab the vase. You turned around with a smile as he placed the vase on the kitchen counter.

“Thanks,” you beamed, and he mumbled a ‘You’re welcome’, though his response came out as more of a soft hum.

Before he could think better of it, he leaned down and kissed you. The kiss was slow, deliberate—his lips meeting yours with a tenderness that made his pulse race. His fingers tingle with the desire to pull you closer, but just before his hands slid around you, you pulled away, making him swallow back a groan.

“Ooh! I was watching this documentary that I think you’ll be really into,” you said, quickly putting the flowers in the vase and tugging him by the hand toward the couch. He followed like a stray pup, too caught up in the way you moved to protest.

“Oh, yeah? What’s it about?” He asked, hoping the conversation would steer him away from the other thoughts tugging at him. You settled on the couch beside him, and he instinctively pulled your legs onto his lap, cupping your feet in his hands to warm them.

“It’s about space. The universe, really. It’s fascinating, but honestly terrifying if you think about it for too long.”

Spencer nodded, though his mind was far away. He was more focused on the way that his fingers traced the soft lines of your calves. He gently started kneading the muscles, placing just the right amount of pressure.

“Would you go to space, if NASA invited you?” You asked, eyes still glued to the TV.

“Only if you’d come with me.”

His response made you turn around to look at him. The sincere and loving expression he gave you warmed your face. He squeezed your legs gently, and, just like that, you noticed the hint of desire hidden in his eyes.

“Come here,” he said in a whisper, patting his thigh. In a second you managed to crawl yourself onto his lap, and he held you steady by your hips.

You reached up to remove your glasses, but before your fingers could touch the frames, his hand found yours, halting the movement.

You noticed the slight squint in his eyes. “I can’t properly kiss you with my glasses on,” you explain.

"Then let me handle the kissing," he murmured, voice dropped low.

Before you could register his words, his lips had found your neck. His hands moved to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing along the line of your jaw, holding you close as his tongue licked a firm stripe up your sensitive skin.

“Oh, god,” you shuddered in a breath.

“Shaking already?” he teased, voice laced with amusement as he grinned against your skin.

“No,” you lied.

“Are you sure about that? Then why are you doing it again?” He comments before squeezing your breast, your nipple caught in between his long fingers.

You jumped at his touch, a moan escaping your lips. You shook your head as you saw his satisfied expression. “You’re such a dirty tease.”

“I haven’t heard any complaints so far,” he smirks, making you roll your eyes.

His breath was warm against your skin as his lips found their way back to the soft curve of your neck. Slowly, with a tenderness that sent a shiver through your body, he placed several more kisses to your skin. Once pleased, he bends his head down to capture your clothed nipple in his mouth, his hand still kneading your other breast.

“Fuck, Spence,” you gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders to steady yourself. He took his time, his mouth sucking slowly on your nub, savoring the feel of you beneath him. Tonight, he was in no rush—he wanted to taste every inch of you, show you just how much he loves every detail of your body.

You were writhing in his lap as he flicked his tongue against your nipple. Heat forming between your thighs with every stroke of his tongue. He removed his lips from your breast with a pop, and sat back against the couch. His gaze was locked on the now wet, see-through patch on your shirt. He licked his lips, watching you like you were a piece of art he just created himself.

“Beautiful,” he stated.

The compliment sent a rush of warmth straight to your core, your body responding with a soft shiver. Without thinking, you began to grind yourself against his lap, a surge of excitement rushing through you as you felt the firm bulge beneath his pants. Spencer exhaled a deep, satisfied sigh, his warm hands slipping beneath your shirt as he cupped your breasts, squeezing them gently.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” he said, his gaze lingering on you.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Oh, so that’s what this is all about, huh?”

His expression softened, “Actually, it’s about all of you.” The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, turning you almost shy.

“Can I take this off?” he murmured, his fingers teasing the hem of your shirt. You nodded wordlessly and raised your arms. Spencer pulled the fabric over your head, his eyes tracing the curve of your bare chest. He cursed under his breath, his hands immediately finding you—fingers digging into your skin as he leaned in, nuzzling his face between your tits with a satisfied moan.

A string of giggles and moans spilled from your lips as his curls tickled your skin. His pink lips grazed you gently, pausing to leave sloppy, lingering marks—each one a reminder that you’d carry with you for the following days.

You moved against him, rolling your hips, finding release in the way that your barely covered heat rubbed against the rough material of his pants. Spencer noticed the change in your rhythm, the need in your movements. He guided you with steady hands, his fingers moving to your hips and then sliding lower, finding the curve of your ass, tightening his grip to help you find the pace you craved.

“Can you handle more?” His voice was laced with desire. Without hesitation, you nodded, your body already screaming for more. His long fingers traced your inner thighs, goosebumps forming on your skin, his touch light but electrifying. When his thumb pressed against your covered clit, a jolt of heat shot through you, making you squirm helplessly. You moaned, your body arching toward him.

“You’re always so wet for me, angel.” The word slipped from Spencer's lips. It was the first time he’d called you anything other than your name or a shortened version of it, and somehow, angel felt more fitting than any word he'd ever used. You looked like heaven to him—your soft skin glowing in the light, your eyes sparkling behind the frames of your glasses, and the way you responded to his touch, every small brush of his fingers making your expressions change so delicately.

He slowly tugged the damp fabric of your underwear to the side, savoring the reveal of your glistening pussy. You lifted your hips, giving Spencer the access to slide a finger through your folds, spreading your wetness.

“Feels good,” you breathed out, your voice shaky as his fingers ran back and forth between your lips, each pass teasingly close to your entrance, but never quite slipping inside. The sensation made your hips buck against him. You weren’t used to being teased for this long—Spencer had a way of getting you dripping without even fully touching you. Usually that led straight to sex, which makes his slow touches feel almost torturous.

“Please, Spence,” you moaned.

“Please, what?” he mused, his eyes dark with desire as he watched how your arousal coated his fingers, his gaze never leaving your glistenings folds.

“I need more,” you begged, your voice a whimper.

“You can have more, angel. My fingers are right here,” he hummed.

A soft moan escaped your lips as you shifted, positioning yourself so his fingers were just below your entrance. Spencer’s breath hitched, and his mouth fell open as you sank down onto his fingers, inch by inch, taking him in. Your hand gripped his shoulder tightly for support as you moved, the sensation of fullness making your body tremble.

Spencer was the first to make a sound, his head falling back slightly as you adjusted to him. His moans only spurred you on. You pressed your forehead against his, your breaths shaky as he pumped his fingers in a steady, insistent rhythm.

His other hand moved to your ass, fingers spreading across your cheek as he squeezed, pulling you closer to him. You were grateful he was doing most of the work—your legs were already shaking, straining to keep up with the building pleasure.

Spencer’s fingers curled inside you, pressing deeper, and the angle was perfect—hitting spots you never managed to reach on your own. Spencer groaned at the sight. Your body was tightening around him, your slickness coating his fingers, and he couldn’t help but imagine it being his cock filling you up.

The sounds he made drove you crazy. Each deep groan, every stuttered breath, showed you how much he enjoyed making you feel good. His enjoyment only intensified your own pleasure.

You were so close, your nipples hard against his chest, your breath mixing with his as your hair tumbled over his face, the scent of it intoxicating to him.

Your breathing quickened, sharp and shallow, as the pressure built within you, pooling low in your belly. Your vision blurred, the edges of reality dissolving as you neared the brink of your climax.

“Baby…” you breathed, your voice a desperate whisper, barely more than a plea. You locked your eyes with Spencer, hoping—praying—he could see the need in yours, feel the frantic urgency building inside you.

And then, with a nod and a final twist of his fingers, you broke.

A flood of pleasure crashed through you. You gasped, your whole body seizing as your orgasm hit, sending shockwaves of heat through every inch of you. You cried out, unable to hold back the sounds of your release, your hips bucking against his touch, your hands gripping his wrist to anchor you to the world as it spun in a blur.

He withdrew his fingers from your heat, and the sudden absence left you breathless, a soft sound escaping your lips at the loss. When you blinked your eyes open, Spencer’s warm gaze met yours, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You smiled back at him, a little dazed, as he brushed your cheek with his untouched hand.

He carefully took your glasses off, placing them on the armrest of the couch. His thumb tenderly wiped away the tears that had escaped your eyes. He then cupped your chin, pulling you toward him, and kissed you deeply, his lips soft and lingering.

“Thank you,” he murmured, as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

“I should be the one thanking you,” you softly laughed.

He shook his head, smiling. “No need for that,” he replied, his voice reassuring.

“But I want to,” you insisted. “Though… I think you’ll find I’m better at showing than telling.” You playfully whispered, as your nails grazed the outline of his dick.

You turned yourself around on his lap, your knees still planted on either side of him, but now with your back facing him. Leaning forward, you braced yourself on the coffee table, your elbows digging into the surface. You arched your back, making Spencer hiss sharply at the sight of your ass displayed before him, your arousal trickling down your thighs. The inviting shake of your hips made him lose his patience, and his fingers fumbled hastily with his belt.

“Fuck,” he groaned, hurriedly pushing his pants and boxers down his thighs. His cock sprang free, hard and eager, the flushed head brushing against the faint line of hair trailing up his abdomen.

He gripped himself firmly, pumping his length a few times before lining himself up with your slick entrance. The weight of his hand settled on your hip as he pressed the tip of his cock against your warmth, teasing you for the briefest moment before you sank down on him.

A sharp cry escaped your lips as he filled you, the new angle making him hit depths you’d never felt before. The stretch was deliciously overwhelming, stealing your breath as your fingers clawed at the table. You shakily tried to lift your hips, but your legs quivered under the strain.

Spencer noticed immediately, his hands finding their place—one on your waist, steadying you, and the other trailing down to your calf. He began guiding you, his strength effortlessly lifting and lowering you along his cock. The room filled with the symphony of your combined moans and the rhythmic slap of meeting skin.

“God, look at you,” he rasped, mesmerized by the way your body took him in. His gaze focused on the bounce of your ass, hypnotized by the way it moved with each thrust. On instinct, he brought his hand down in a firm smack against your cheek.

The sudden impact made you jolt, as you let out a sweet, startled cry. The sound sent a surge of need through him, and he swore he felt himself harden further.

“You liked that, huh?” he mused in curiosity. Without waiting for an answer, he did it again, revelling in your shivering response.

Pulling you against him, Spencer adjusted your position until you were seated in his lap, your back pressed flush to his chest. One arm wrapped around your waist to hold you close, while his other hand rose to cup your breast. His hips snapped into you roughly, each thrust pulling an uncontrollable whimper from your throat.

“You’re doing so good for me, angel,” he praised, his voice hoarse as his fingers pinched and rolled your nipple. The combination made your head loll back against his shoulder, surrendering to his touch. He seized the opportunity to claim your lips in a needy, devouring kiss. Tongues tangled messily, swallowing your shared moans.

As your pleasure mounted, your walls began to flutter around him, drawing a strained groan from his throat.

“Are you close again, pretty girl?” he asked, his voice a rough whisper against your lips.

“Yes,” you gasped, barely able to form the word. “Spencer… fuck, I’m so close.”

“Then cum around me,” he encouraged. “I know you want it.”

Your breath hitched. “Will you cum inside of me?”

For a heartbeat, he stilled. “I…” His gaze flickered with hesitation, cheeks flushed. “I want to cum on your face.”

Your pupils blew wide, desire sparking anew at his confession. A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.

That was all the encouragement he needed. His fingers dipped between your thighs, circling your clit in rapid, precise motions. The pressure tipped you over the edge, and with a cry of his name, you let go.

Barely able to recover, you slid from his lap onto your knees, settling in front of him. Spencer’s breath hitched at the sight of you—flushed and disheveled, your sweat-slick skin glowing in the low light. Your lips, swollen from his kisses, parted expectantly.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he breathed, unable to tear his eyes away. You looked angelic… and he was about to ruin you.

It didn’t take long. His cock twitched, thick ropes of cum spilling over your face and dripping down to your chest. His jaw went slack, his chest heaving as he watched you collect some of his release with your thumb and slip it into your mouth. The sight of you sucking on your finger almost unraveled him all over again.

Unable to bring himself to leave your side, he grabbed his sleeve, using it to gently clean you up. Once satisfied, you leaned forward, resting your head on his thigh, basking in the comfortable silence that followed.

His phone buzzed suddenly on the couch, shattering the moment. Spencer groaned, grabbing the device and quickly silencing it with a flick of his finger.

You laughed softly, your voice tinged with amazement. “What was that about?”

Spencer shrugged, tossing the phone aside without a second glance. “I can be late for one day.”

[verstappenf1lecccc]

heyooo could you write a long one shot where Fernando is readers mentor when he “retires” teaches her everything she needs to know.: however then he returns to F1 and can’t mentor her anymore is instead a rival but pushes her off the track accidentally he thought it was ocon.. and he retires the car .. because along the way he’s fallen in love with her… again lots of angst and fluff I’m down for it ahah

comments are always appreciated:)

Red Flags and Green Lights

When Fernando retired he himself thought that it was the end of his career especially towards Motorsport. His last season was gruesome and frankly disappointing. McLaren had let him down big time it was almost as if each race was a joke. Poor strategy Poor performance Poor car.

At the end of the season Fernando knew he couldn’t take it much longer and had decided to draw the curtains up towards his impressive career.

To get away from the cameras and the journalist Fernando had decided to seek refuge in a small Spanish town just off the cost. The salty Spanish air made the Spaniard thrive. He had no intention of ever going back to anything related to Motorsport.

Beginnings

The first time Fernando Alonso had seen you on track, he had raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t the usual dismissive look he gave young drivers—those hungry, wide-eyed rookies trying to make a name for themselves. No, you weren’t like them. You were different.

You had come from the junior ranks, a rising star in a new generation of drivers, but there was something about you that intrigued him. Your precision, your ability to adapt to a car almost too quickly. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way you handled yourself off the track—there was a steeliness to you, a quiet confidence that made him think: This one, she’s got it.

Fernando had never been a particularly warm person, but he’d learned the hard way that talent alone wasn’t enough to succeed in Formula 1. Mentorship—that was the missing ingredient. He’d had great mentors, but his relationship with them had been less than ideal. He was determined to be better. To be the mentor that you didn’t know you needed.

And so, he took you under his wing. At first, it wasn’t obvious what he was doing. He wasn’t the type to sit down and give long speeches about racing. Instead, it was in the small moments, the subtle lessons.

“Don’t overdrive the car,” Fernando would say, tossing you a casual glance during a debrief. “The car doesn’t care about your ego. It’s about balance.”

At first, you’d bristled at his bluntness. But as you spent more time together, you realized he wasn’t being harsh—he was just pushing you in the only way he knew how. And you respected that. In a world of flashy trainers and corporate personas, Fernando was real. He demanded nothing less than your best.

But there were softer moments, too. When he’d see you frustrated, or exhausted after a long race weekend, he’d quietly hand you a bottle of water with a knowing smile. “You’re getting better,” he’d say. "But don’t burn yourself out. It’s a marathon, not a sprint."

Sometimes, after a race, when you’d sit on the pit wall, Fernando would join you. The two of you, silent, watching the crowd disperse, the paddock buzzing around you. He’d stare into the distance, and you could see the weight of his years in the sport, the regret, the battles won and lost.

“You’ll be in my shoes one day,” he’d say, almost absentmindedly. “Just... don’t make the same mistakes I did.”

You’d always chuckle. "I'll try not to." But deep down, you knew exactly what he meant.

You were learning not just the technical side of racing, but the psychology of it—the mental toughness that could make or break a driver. How to handle pressure. How to handle failure. Fernando was a master of that.

The Return

It had been a year since Fernando had “retired.” You were now racing for a mid-tier team, working your way up. You had started to gain attention, but it wasn’t easy. Racing was still a brutal sport, and no one cared how much potential you had if you didn’t win.

It was late in the season when the rumors first started. Fernando was coming back. You tried to ignore it, but it was everywhere. You told yourself it was just gossip. He’d never actually return.

Then, one afternoon, you were sitting in the debrief room, eyes glued to the telemetry, when your phone buzzed. It was a message from your PR manager: "Fernando's back. Announced this morning."

The room around you seemed to close in. It hit you harder than you thought it would. Fernando Alonso, your mentor, your friend, your rival. You had always admired his fiery passion for racing, but this—this felt different. He was coming back *to take your spot.*

The news hit you hard, but you swallowed it. You had worked too hard to let it defeat you. Yet, the sting of betrayal wasn’t easily ignored. He hadn’t told you. He hadn’t warned you. He was coming back to take the very thing you had worked so tirelessly for.

For days, you were a mess. Racing weekends became a blur of frustration. Every time you saw Fernando’s name on the timing sheets, every time you heard the roar of his engine in the distance, something inside of you twisted.

Rivals

The first time you went head-to-head with Fernando on track was at the Monaco Grand Prix. The streets of Monte Carlo, narrow and unforgiving, had always been a playground for him. You had grown up watching him win here, his aggressive style perfectly suited to the challenge. But now? Now, he was your competition.

The tension in the paddock was palpable. You hadn’t spoken much to Fernando since his return—an awkward, strained silence had settled between you both. He was now racing for Aston Martin, and you were still with your current team, fighting for every point.

Race day arrived, and as you suited up, your heart pounded in your chest. The press had been relentless, comparing you to Fernando—asking if you were nervous, asking if you felt the pressure. You couldn’t let them see you break.

As you lined up on the grid, your eyes drifted to Fernando’s car. He was in his familiar spot, just a few rows ahead of you. When his eyes met yours, you felt a twinge of something—regret, longing, but also something else. The rivalry. You had to put it all aside now. You weren’t his protégé anymore. You were his equal. And that meant you had to beat him.

The race was a blur of tight corners, full-throttle accelerations, and the constant threat of losing grip. Fernando had a knack for reading the race, for making late-breaking moves that left you on edge. Lap after lap, he pushed you, forcing you to respond with everything you had.

But it wasn’t just the pressure on the track that had you on edge. It was the way his presence haunted you. Every time you braked too late or took a corner too aggressively, you could almost feel him beside you, his voice in your ear.

Don’t overdrive the car. Control your emotions.

And then, it happened.

It was the final lap, and you were battling for position. You had the inside line heading into the chicane, the tires on your car worn and your concentration slipping. Fernando, pushing hard from behind, wasn’t giving an inch. You could feel his car getting closer, so close that his rearview mirror almost felt like it was inside your helmet.

You took the corner too sharply, trying to block his line. And that’s when it happened.

Fernando’s car clipped your rear tire. The next thing you knew, your car was spinning, the track blurring around you, the world upside down.

In an instant, you were off the track. The gravel crunched under your tires as you skidded to a halt. For a moment, there was nothing but silence.

"Shit! Are you okay?" Fernando’s voice crackled through your radio, panic in his voice.

You gripped the steering wheel, a lump in your throat. He didn’t mean to do that. It was an accident. But it didn’t change the fact that it was him the man who had once mentored you, the man who had taught you everything you knew, the man who had now put you in the gravel.

You sat there for a long moment, trying to regain your composure. The race was over for you. But it wasn’t over for Fernando.

You heard the engine roar as his car raced past. And then, as he crossed the line into the pits , he was the one who had retired without any reason to.

The Apology

The days after the incident were heavy. The press had made their usual spectacle of the crash. But you were quiet. You kept your distance, kept your head down. Fernando had won, of course. The car was still fast, even if he had been a little too aggressive.

He didn’t come to you right away. It wasn’t until the next race in Austria that you finally saw him, walking through the paddock, looking like he hadn’t slept a wink. His eyes met yours, and for the first time since Monaco, you both stopped.

He cleared his throat, stepping closer to you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low, almost apologetic. “I thought it was Ocon.”

You blinked, trying to hold back the flood of emotions rushing to your chest. The apology wasn’t much, but it was enough to make the walls you’d built around your heart begin to crack.

“Fernando,” you said softly, “I know. I know it wasn’t intentional. but” You cut yourself off, swallowing hard. “You could’ve hurt me. You could’ve ruined everything we worked for.”

His gaze softened, and for a moment, he wasn’t the driver who had taken your spot. He was just Fernando the man who had shown you how to drive, how to fight for everything you wanted.

“I didn’t mean for it to go like this,” he said quietly. “I’ve been a fool.”

You were silent, looking at the ground, feeling the weight of the last few years crash down on you.

And then, finally, you looked up at him. “You taught me how to race. But you also taught me how to let go. Maybe... maybe it’s time for it for us to let go.”

Confessions

Months had passed since the Monaco incident, and the tension between you and Fernando, once thick and palpable, had slowly faded into a quiet understanding. The rivalry had not diminished the bond you shared, but it had forged a new dynamic. There were moments when you'd catch him watching you, his gaze steady, his usual cocky demeanor softened by something deeper.

It was after the Italian Grand Prix, a race that had been as unpredictable as the season itself, that everything finally came to a head. You had managed to finish in the points, a small but significant victory for you and your team, while Fernando had taken a step back from the podium, frustrated with his own performance. As you made your way through the paddock, you saw him standing near the garage, his eyes distant. You walked over, unsure of what to expect, but the warmth in his gaze when he saw you took you by surprise.

“Not bad today,” he said, his usual teasing tone absent, replaced by something genuine.

“Could’ve been better,” you replied, glancing at his tired eyes. "But you, you’re still a threat on the track, Fernando. Always will be."

He chuckled softly, then fell quiet. The noise of the paddock, the usual chaos of post-race analysis, faded as the two of you stood in that small, private bubble. It was strange, how it had always been with him. Every time you were around, you felt seen—truly seen, in a way that no one else could.

“You’ve come so far,” he said, his voice unusually soft. “I don’t think you even realize how much you've changed, how much you've grown since I first saw you.”

You raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk pulling at your lips. “It’s all thanks to you, isn’t it?”

He looked down at the ground, almost as if hesitating. The silence between you stretched, and then Fernando looked up, his eyes locking with yours. “Maybe... but it’s not just that. There’s something I need to say to you.” He took a deep breath, his hands gripping the edge of the pit wall.

You felt your heart skip a beat. "What is it?"

“I never meant for things to get so complicated between us,” Fernando started, his voice low but clear. “I’ve been trying to convince myself that it was just the rivalry, that it was all about racing. But the truth is I’ve been holding back for so long. Holding back from telling you what I really feel.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You knew what he was about to say, and yet, hearing it aloud made the words seem more real than ever.

“I care about you," he said, the words tumbling out, raw and honest. "Not just as a driver or a mentor, but... more than that. You mean more to me than I’ve let on."

For a moment, all you could do was stand there, staring at him, your heart racing. The past few months had been a whirlwind conflict, growth, understanding but now, in this quiet moment, everything felt clear.

“I care about you too, Fernando,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “I’ve been so focused on proving myself, on being the driver you helped me become, that I never realized how much you meant to me until now.”

There was no dramatic confession, no grand gesture. Just two people, who had been through so much together, finally acknowledging the feelings that had been there all along.

Fernando smiled, a warmth in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before. “So, we’re not just teammates anymore?”

You shook your head, a small laugh escaping your lips. “Definitely not.”

He stepped closer, his hand gently brushing against yours. It wasn’t a rush or a need to act on anything. It was just a simple, unspoken connection—one that had been building for so long, and now, at last, it was out in the open.

“You’re incredible,” he said softly, his voice filled with admiration. “I’ve always known that. But now I get to see it up close. I’m lucky to be here with you, to be a part of your journey.”

You smiled, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. The competition, the doubts, the uncertainty—it all melted away in that moment. You were no longer just a driver fighting for recognition. You were someone with a future. A future that, for the first time in a long time, didn’t feel quite so lonely.

“We’ll see what happens next,” you said, your heart lighter than it had been in years. “But I’m ready for it. Whatever it is.”

Fernando nodded, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder, a silent promise between the two of you.

The next race came and went, and although the rivalry remained on track, it had transformed into something deeper something that was no longer just about the competition. And when the season came to an end, it was not just your achievements that filled your thoughts, but the quiet moments shared with Fernando: the conversations after races, the supportive glances across the paddock, and the realization that you were no longer fighting alone.

In the end, it wasn’t the checkered flags or podiums that defined your journey. It was the person who stood beside you, someone who had seen you for who you were and who you could be. And for the first time, you weren’t just racing for yourself. You were racing for both of you.

[screamlet]

wip wednesday (bucktommy fix-it edition)

a longer eddie+tommy excerpt from this wip that's getting out of control. some context: tommy has shaved off his hair in the gay heartbreak tradition of our people.

---

Tommy knows he's a creature of habit, but it's still disquieting to discover that sometimes people learn his habits. For example: Tommy regularly likes to hit up one specific cozy restaurant on his free nights and have dinner at the bar, him and a book. Sometimes he'd strike up a conversation with someone at the bar but, most of the time, he had his quiet, familiar corner at the bar with a drink or two, his dinner, and whatever he was reading that week.

Tonight, someone buys him his beer and that someone is Eddie, who's sitting across the bar from him when he arrives. He toasts to Tommy, then gets out of his seat and comes around to sit with him.

"Thanks for the beer," Tommy replies. "So what's going on?"

"Just checking in. You've been quiet."

Tommy raises his eyebrows at him. "Huh. Have I? I wonder."

For a second, Eddie's look is scathing, and then sympathetic, genuine. "How are you doing?"

He imagined the briefest cartoonish image where he tips his head back and chugs the entire beer in one go, but it takes so long that Eddie sighs and leaves. He thinks about doing something that dumb for longer than he should before he does the adult thing and shrugs a shoulder at him. "Just fine, how about you?"

Eddie tilts his head 90 degrees, like he's had his neck snapped. "Just fine? You break up with your boyfriend of six months and—hey, Tommy? Should I mention the hair? Or the lack of it?"

Tommy smiles broadly; his face aches to be this fake, but he used to be a pro at it. "I thought I'd try something new." He takes another sip. "Thanks for the beer. Does Buck know you're here? Crossing enemy lines?"

"Wow, he said you called him Buck and I didn't believe him, but you really did that." Eddie shudders. "Stop doing that. And what enemy lines? We're friends, idiot."

Tommy gives him a playful look. "Come on. No we're not. You're his best friend. You don't need to pretend. I get it."

Eddie clears his throat. "You know Buck can have more than one friend at the same time?"

"And he does," Tommy assures him. "He's got you and the whole 118, his sister, everyone who's connected with you guys. He's good. I'm good. We're good."

"Tommy, listen." Eddie shifts in his seat and leans in closer. "Show me a real emotion in the next 10 seconds or I'll punch your cheekbones into your skull for leading on my best friend for six months. He cares about you, Tommy. Do you have any idea how much? I thought you did. He took it seriously—did you?"

He considers Eddie carefully and then looks away. "I don't know what you want me to say. I'm doing okay. I cared about him a lot, too, and now we've broken up. It happens. Thanks for checking on me. You don't have to do that anymore."

It's quiet between them for a minute, then another. Tommy puts in his dinner order and motions to Eddie, who shakes his head and says he doesn't want anything. Tommy leans back in his seat and that's when he starts to sweat. If Eddie's just going to sit there and watch him, wait him out, then Eddie's going to win. Tommy's good at this, great at faking it until he makes it, but it's—it's hard to sit under the microscope for this long, especially when Eddie seems to have nothing but time on his hands and nothing to do but wait for Tommy to crack.

"I'm not here to get you guys back together," Eddie finally says. "I really am here to see how you're doing. I see Buck at work; I don't see you, but I want to keep seeing you. I want us to be friends, no matter what happens between the two of you."

Tommy laughs. "God, and why would you want that? You've got better things to do with your time. Seriously, go call your kid or something."

"His name is Christopher, Tommy, and get his name out of your mouth if that's how you feel about him, about me and him."

Tommy nods, apologetic. "Sorry. But I do mean it: I free you of your obligation."

Eddie's quiet again and says, with even more disbelief, "You don't want to be my friend anymore? And don't call me a child, Tommy, I'm serious. You know adults have friends, too, right? And sometimes people break up and the world keeps turning and we can still be friends, you and me. You and Chim, you and Hen, even Bobby will come around because he likes you. You're still Tommy."

"I don't think that's how you guys work," Tommy says. "I don't think anyone stays in your circle without Buck tying them there. Maybe you and I can meet up for basketball, spar at the gym, hang out at my place, but I'm telling you that's a lot of work and you don't have to do it."

"I never had to do it, Tommy," Eddie replies. "I wanted to because I wanted to be your friend. You are my friend, and Buck isn't gonna change that."

Tommy laughs dryly and looks away. "He changes everything, Eddie."

[yamumsyadadd]

the shadow of alexia

At 4 years old my entire life changed. One day my dad was at home and the next he wasn’t. Things changed after that. Everyone was sad, lots of people visited too. Sometimes I got new toys when they came over. 

Alba was a scary teenager but Alexia. Alexia was my best friend and I was hers. She would take me to kindergarten and pick me up, she never missed a soccer game or ballet recital, she was always there. So was her special friend Jenni. Jenni was great, when I was little she used to let me colour in her tattoos, Everytime she got a new one, she’s get me new pens to colour on her. 

As time went on, Alba and Alexia started moving out. Alexia moved in with Jenni and started getting busy with football, Alba still lived with Mami but was busy with her friends and modelling. Mami did the best she could. She was getting older and more tired, she didn’t miss a game or my last ballet recital, she didn’t miss the disappointment in my eyes when Alexia or Alba didn’t turn up. They were busy, I understand. 

It went from seeing them a couple times a week, to once a week, to once a month. I learnt pretty quickly the only way to get Alexia’s attention was to either play football or to fuck up. Lucky for me I was good at both. School was boring, it was too easy, I understood it all faster than anyone else. The first time I skipped school, I was 14. No one noticed and no one cared. From there on out it became a routine. At least once a week I’d skip school and hang out with the others. 

I personally never did anything too rowdy, just tagged along to enjoy the vibes. The first time I got caught skipping school was by Virginia. She promised me she wouldn’t tell Alexia or Mami and she kept that promise. The next time was by Alba, she lost her shit. Yelling at me about how irresponsible I was being and how much trouble I would get in. The second last time I got caught was by Jenni, I hadn’t seen her in a while, I was mad at her because of that so when she tried to give me a lecture I yelled at her.

“Y/n, you can’t be doing this shit. If Alexia found out she would lose it at you! What would happen if the police got you? What would you do then?”

“Why do you care Jenni? Huh? You left, you haven’t been around. You fucked off to Paris and didn’t even say goodbye. Tell Alexia, I don’t care, at least then she would talk to me.”

“Y/n, did Ale not talk to you about this?” Her voice was incredibly soft. That was something I missed about her, the way she spoke, the softness that was hidden from most people. 

“She doesn’t talk to me at all. She doesn’t give a fuck about me.”

“Bebeita, we broke up. Thats why I left. we ended things and to be able to heal I had to leave. I am so sorry, she promised she would talk to you about it. I wanted to say goodbye to you myself but Alexia said it would be a bad idea.”

From there things spiralled. I didn’t want to talk to Alexia, I didn’t want to see her. I stopped going to her games with Mami, I would sneak out when I knew she was coming over. No longer did I look up to her, I hated her. I wanted nothing to do with her. 

The day I quit football, I felt free. No longer having to play to get my oldest sisters attention, I didn’t care for that anymore. I had more time to hang out with my friends, to be a normal fucking teenager. 

It took a week, it was quicker then I thought to be honest, but once Alexia found out, all hell broke loose. 

“Where the hell is she!” Alexia stormed through the house. Surprising Eli. 

“Who Alexia?” 

“The Idiota. Your mija?” Alexia huffed. Eli was surprised by the way Alexia was acting. 

“In her room with her friend.”  Before Eli could say anything else, Alexia was off. Swinging open the door and disturbing the peace between you and your girlfriend.

“You, get out.” 

“No Alexia. You don’t get to tell her to get out.” I got defensive fast. There’s no way she gets to come here and tell her she needs to leave. 

“GET OUT NOW!” Alexia’s ‘captain’ voice was something that always got people moving. 

“You don’t get to come here and act like you run the place. News flash alexia, you don’t fucking live here!” 

“¡Dios mío! What is happening! Why did Isabella leave crying?” Mami looked pissed. More so at alexia than me. 

“Alexia kicked her out. For no reason other than the fact that no one else is allowed to be happy but her.” 

“Tell her what you did!” When I was younger, the look she was giving me would’ve scared me, but now it did nothing. 

“I didn’t do anything alexia. Whatever your minions are telling you isn’t true. But hey, you wouldn’t listen to me anyway.” I tried to push past her, but she grabbed my wrist stopping me from moving. 

“Mami she quit football. She fucking quit. After everything I’ve done for her she throws it back in my face!” Rolling her eyes and scoffing at me. 

“Let her go now. I am aware she quit Alexia. She was only doing it for you.” Mami was mad, very mad. Alexia had come and disturbed the peace, making Isabella cry and screaming the house down. 

“Grab me like that again I’ll drop you on your ass. I don’t give a fuck that you are la Reina.” The words came out like venom. 

Everything is always about Alexia. I joined football to get close to her, I didn’t mean to get as far as I did, I honestly didn’t think I’d get past the academy. Being called up into the Barca B squad was cool. I enjoy the fitness side of it but genuinely couldn’t care less about actually playing. 

The same day I quit, was the same day I got called up for the senior team. It sent me into a bit of a spiral. Mapi found me in the corner of the physios room with my sketchbook, crying. 

“Oh nena! What’s wrong? Do you want me to get Ale?” 

“No! Not ale! Don’t tell her please!”

“Okay no Ale but can you tell me what’s got you so worked up?” 

“I got asked to join the senior team and I don’t want to. I only started playing so Alexia would be nice to me and talk to me. I don’t even like this stupid game! I just want to draw but that’ll never be good enough for her.”  

After that, Mapi and I would get coffee in the mornings, I would show her my new drawings and tell her my ideas. She paid me to draw a photo of her and Ingrid. I knew she could draw herself but it was nice to have her in my corner.  Mapi was talking more about to me Alexia, saying how good my drawings were and how much happier I seemed not having to play, she seemed to miss the confusion written all over Alexia’s face. 

 •———————————————————————•

Mami had a trip coming up, I knew about this, but what I didn’t know what she was going to make me stay with alexia. Isabella and I came home after the movies to find Mami, Alexia, Alba and some other chick sitting at the table. I mumbled a quick hello before trying to drag Isabella upstairs. 

“Don’t be so rude. Actually say hello.” Alexia spoke angrily. 

Scoffing I turned around ��bite me Alexia.” 

“¡Dios mío! Isabella Mi vida, it’s time for you to go home. You can wait upstairs for your Mami.” 

“Mami no. That’s not fair. She doesn’t get to come in here and start bossing everyone around!” 

“It’s okay amor, I should go home anyway. We have that biology exam anyway.” 

“Now that your little friend is gone, sit down.” 

“No.” 

“SIT DOWN.” 

“Ale, Cálmate.” The mysterious brunette says as she places her arm on alexia’s. 

Fuck all this shit honestly. Turning as fast as I could I ran upstairs, knowing Alexia would follow quickly. I was right. I was barely able to push my dresser against the door before she tried to open it. I was not going to sit at that table and play happy families. 

After an hour of listening to Alexia curse, she finally gave up. It was peaceful until Alba climbed through my bedroom window. 

“Still got it.” 

“Alba what the hell!” 

“Hermana, I don’t know what happened between you and Ale, but if it’s the same thing that happened between me and you then you need to talk to her. She’s worried about you and scared. She doesn’t want to lose you.” 

“She only cares now that she thinks her precious imagine is going to get hurt.” 

“If you talk to her now, while Olga is here, it’ll be easier. She calms Alexia down and makes her think more rationally.” 

“Who the fuck is Olga?” Was that the mysterious brunette in the dining room?

“What do you mean? She’s alexia’s girlfriend? You’ve met her before?” 

“No I haven’t. I didn’t know she had a girlfriend.” 

“Yes you met her a dinner a few months ago? She comes to Ales games and on Fridays when we have dinner!”

“I wasn’t invited to that dinner, I don’t go to Alexia’s games and I certainly don’t go to Friday dinners!” The angry tears started. Alexia was my hero, my bestfriend, the person I wanted to be and now I’ve been pushed aside. I know nothing about her and she equally knows nothing about me. 

Alba pulled me in tight, letting me cry on her. It was weird doing it with her, she used to be the reason I cried and not the one to comfort me. But here we are, things change I guess. 

“Mami really needs to talk with you so we need to go downstairs.” Begrudgingly I let alba pull me down the stairs. It was obvious to everyone that I had been crying, mami’s face softening when she saw me, Alexia’s face frowning in confusion. 

“You wanted to talk so please do it quickly. I want to go to bed.” I tried to speak as respectfully as I could to Mami, it wasn’t her fault. 

“Mija, I’ll be away for a month, you know this si?” I nodded my head before she continued, “you’re too young to stay here for a month alone so you’re going to stay with Alexia and Olga. You can still see your friends and will go to school, but they will look after you.” 

“Mami no! I can look after myself!” 

“You’re 16 chica. You’re not an adult like you think you are.” Alexia scoffed from the other side of the table. 

“So what? You’re shipping me off to stay with Alexia, who won’t even been there half the time and a stranger? That’s safer? Some person that I’ve never met and sure as shit don’t trust!” 

“Stop being such a Perra! You have met Olga, plenty of times! She comes to all the games she can, and to dinners all the time.” 

“Ale stop” Alba knew what was coming and tried to stop it but it was too late. 

“Dios mío, your head is so far up your own arse isn’t it? I haven’t been to a single game in over 8 months, I don’t get invited to you stupid little Friday night dinners and I have never met your girlfriend! Up until an hour ago I didn’t even know you had a fucking girlfriend Alexia. Everything is always about you. You and your stupid football or your stupid knee. I bet you right now you couldn’t tell me anything about what I’ve done in the last year, can you?” 

“I know you quit football because you’re being a brat.” 

Her answer honestly made me chuckle “Okay Alexia, anything else?” 

Silence. She couldn’t tell you a single thing. 

“Yeah that’s what I thought. You know nothing about me and that’s how it’s going to stay. I dont trust you, I don’t like you and I sure as shit don’t love you. You’re not my Hermana.” With hot tears falling down my face, I stormed back upstairs. I text Isabella asking if I could stay over and once she replied with a yes, I was gone. Out the window like Alba had come in an hour earlier. I texted Mami to let her know, I wasn’t that horrible to make her worry. 

“Mami, you can’t let her talk to people like that! She’s incredibly disrespectful!” 

Alba rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Are you serious? That girl used to hang off you. She looked up to you. It was always you alexia and now she wants nothing to do with you. You don’t invite her places, you don’t care about her. I noticed ages ago she was pulling away and I fixed it. Did you know she has a girlfriend? Or that she’s taking senior classes because she’s the smartest there? Or the fact that people are paying her to make them art or buying the pieces she already has. She quit football because she hates it. She hates it because of you. You ruined it for her. Mami, I will stay here with her while you’re gone. It’ll be better that way. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to drop her off at Isabella’s.” 

“No! It’s a school night! She cannot be going out!” It seems everything that was just said to Alexia, went in one ear and out the other. 

“Alexia stop it now. She is allowed to stay at her girlfriend’s house, she has an exam at 1pm. Maybe you need to listen to what people are saying to you. I am going to bed, I suggest you all do the same, at your own houses.” 

“Why does no one listen to me!” Alexia was annoyed, overwhelmed and tired. It had drained a lot of her energy being here tonight. 

“Ale, I’m going to say this one time, you need to listen to what everyone has told you tonight, really listen, because you aren’t. You need to fix things with her but you need to sort your shit out first.” Olga had stayed silent most of the night, listening to everything that was said knowing her girlfriend wouldn’t. You were right, you had never met each other. What Olga didn’t realise was that it was Alexia’s fault, not yours. She put it down to being a moody teenager who was too cool to hang out with her sisters, oh how wrong she was. 

•———————————————————————•

Two days before Mami was meant to go away, Alba rang saying she couldn’t stay over. She had gotten a modelling gig in Madrid and needed to go, that left Alexia and Olga. It would be the longest month of my life. Mami promised nothing would change just because I was staying here, she was wrong. Alexia was a bitch. 

The first few days were fine, alexia would drop me off at school and I’d make my way home after, I generally spend it was Isabella because Alexia wouldn’t let her come over. We go into the city centre, get coffee and do our homework then catch the bus home. We did this even when Mami was here so it wasn’t anything new but when Alexia found out she hit the roof. 

“You cannot be going into the city by yourself! Are you thick in the head?” 

“Jesus Christ alexia! I’m not alone. Isabella is with me. Mami lets me do it so I’m going to keep doing it.” 

“Is Isabella the reason you’re skipping school too?”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” I scoffed, storming off the guest bedroom and slamming the door so hard it made Olga jump. 

By the third day of me being there, Alexia had turned up to pick me up herself. I tried to completely ignore her but Isabella had other ideas. 

“Your sister is death staring me right now.” 

“No amor, not you but me. Oh fuck here we go, she’s coming over here.” 

“Get in the car y/n.”

“No. I told you yesterday that I’m allowed to do this. You’re not the boss of me.” 

“Bebeita, it’s fine. I’ve got chores to do for papa anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She kissed my cheek and then walked away, leaving me no choice but to get in Alexia’s car. 

The car ride was hell. Alexia was pissed, her hands constantly gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckle turned white. Neither of us spoke. To be honest, I didn’t know where we were going until we turned up at the training ground. 

“Why are we here?” 

“We have training. Get out.” 

“No alexia. I quit. What part of that don’t you understand.” 

“Get out now, or I will drag you out.” 

Knowing she would literally drag me out, I had to wait it out. She’d turn her back eventually and I could leg it. I’m faster than her and more willing to jump fences. 

The time came sooner than I thought, after entering the change rooms, she threw a set of clothes into my chest and walked off to the bathrooms. This was my chance and I wasn’t going to waste it. 

Throwing the clothes into her cubby, I legged it out the door. Running past Mapi, Ingrid and Ona who all had confused looked on their faces. As soon as I got out, I kept running, knowing i had to get a head start. I wasn’t really sure where I was going, I knew I couldn’t go back to Alexia’s, Olga would be there. I couldn’t go home because that’s the first place she’d go, I couldn’t go to Albas because she drag me back by my ear. There was only one place to go. 

Can Cuyás Golf Culb was the best place to hide. Sure someone might see me, but it’s easy enough to pretend to be lost. 

The first thing Alexia noticed when she came out was the lack of you. Then the clothes she had given you, thrown back into her cubby. 

“Have you seen y/n?” She asked as she turned to the girls in the locker room. 

“She ran past us like 5 minutes ago?” Ona spoke up. 

“Did she say anything?” 

“No she was in a bit of a hurry Ale.” Mapi rolled her eyes at her best friend. 

“Fuck sake.” Alexia exited the locker room, walking through the facility to try and find you. Slight panic kicked in when she wasn’t able too. Deciding to call Alba first, knowing you’d been closer to her the past few months. 

“Hola Ale, to what do I owe this pleasure?” The sarcasm dripping from her voice. 

“Have you seen y/n?” 

“No why? What happened?” Panic arising in Alba. 

“I picked her up from school and bought her to training. Gave her clothes to change into and I went to the toilet and came back and she was gone. She fucking ran off.” 

“Why the hell would you try and make her train Alexia! She quit. She doesn’t want to play anymore!” Alba quickly became anger with the oldest Putellas. 

“She is too good to throw it all away! She’s being a stupid child about all of this!” Quickly becoming defensive, not enjoying the way Alba is talking to her. 

“You’re unbelievable. I haven’t seen her, I will try and find her. Don’t you worry, put your football above her like you always do.” 

“Alba-“ she hung up before alexia could get another word in. There was one person left that Alexia had to call. 

“Hola amor, why aren’t you training?” Olga’s sweet voice sounded through the phone. 

“I’ve lost y/n. Can you please let me know if she comes home and if she does then don’t let her out of your sight.” 

“What do you mean you’ve lost her Ale?” 

“I bought her to training and she ran away while I was in the bathroom.” Pinching the bridge of her nose, Alexia already knew by the silence on the other end that Olga was trying to not yell at her. 

“Alexia-“

“No I know okay. I already got an ear full from Alba. I have to go but I’ll call you later okay. I love you.” Slowly it started to creep in the fact that she had fucked up and caused you to run away. Training dragged on for Alexia, hoping that you had been found or made contact with Alba or even Olga. 

Meanwhile, after hiding at the golf course for an hour, i decided to head to Isabella’s house. Knocking on the door, Isabella answered, still buttoning up her shirt. Eyes wide when she realised I was at her door. 

“Wh-what are you doing here?” She closed the door slightly, so I could no longer see into the loungeroom. 

“I ran away from Alexia. I was hoping we could hang out like normal?” 

“Now’s not really a good time. I have someone here.” Isabella spoke quietly, not wanting to allude to the fact that the person inside wasn’t just a friend. 

“Baby come back, we weren’t finished.” A guys voice yelled out. 

“It’s not what you think y/n!” 

“I think that guy wants your attention. I’m guessing that’s the reason you’re half dressed. Enjoy your time with him, we are done.” Tears welling in my eyes. 

“I’m sorry y/n!” 

“Go fuck your self Isabella.” sadness turned into anger real quick. 

Isabella was my first girlfriend, my first kiss, the first person I had sex with and she goes and fucks a guy? While we are together? This is literally the last thing I wanted to deal with. 

Unsure on what to do, or who to call I found my way to the beach. My throat and eyes hurt from crying so much. The pain in my chest was getting worse. Pulling out my phone, ignoring all the messages and calls, I rang the one person who would calm me. 

“Hey Calabaza? What’s up?” Jenni’s voice rang through my ears. Unable to form a coherent sentence, only sobs coming out of my mouth. 

“Hold on Bebé” I could hear her moving around, the voices of her teammates getting quieter, “talk to me. What happened?”

“I ran away. I ran away from Alexia and I went to Isabella’s house and she-she was cheating on me. With a guy. A fucking dude. She broke my heart Jenni. It hurts so much.” 

“Oh babé. Where is Ale now? Where are you?” 

“I don’t know. She’s probably at training. I’m at the beach where Papa used to take us. She’s going to be so mad at me.”

“Can you tell me why you ran away from her?” The way Jenni spoke so sweetly was something I missed dearly. 

“She got me from school and took me to the training grounds. She was trying to make me train but when she went to the bathroom I ran away. I don’t want to train, I don’t want to play. I hate the game and I hate her. She doesn’t listen or care about me!” I could feel myself getting upset again. 

“Okay okay, just breathe. You’re okay. I’m not going to tell her where you are but I need to tell someone. Albs has messaged me and so has Olga. You can pick who I tell.” 

Pondering the options, Alba would tell Alexia but she’d also be just as angry and upset. Olga would tell Alexia but she’d be calmer and softer, that was what I needed at this moment. 

“Olga. But tell her not to bring Alexia.” 

“Okay bebé.” After a few moments she spoke up again, “she’s on the way. She promised no Alexia. Do you want to stay on the line with me until she comes?” 

“Yes please. Can you tell me about Mexico?” Sniffling and wiping my face, I got up, walking towards the road to wait for Olga. After 25 minutes, Olga pulled up. A sad smile and worry on her face, she put an arm around me. 

“Is Olga there now?” Jenni asked. 

“Yeah she is. Uh thanks Jenni. Sorry for disturbing you.” Embarrassed about haven taken her time. 

“No bebé, you don’t need to thank me or apologise. We are hermanas no matter what okay. You call me tomorrow when you’re feeling better. I love you.” with that she hung up. Reality slowing sinking it. 

“Let’s get you home yeah? Are you hungry?” Olga smiled sadly at me. 

“No thanks. Just tired.” I mumbled out. 

The drive back to Alexia’s was quiet. When we pulled up, Alexia’s car wasn’t there, meaning she wasn’t home. That was good. Very good. 

“She’s at Albas house. I told her you had messaged me but that I didn’t know where you were yet. It’s a small lie, but I’m sure it’s worth it.” 

“Alexia hates lying.” I said lowly. Thinking back to all those times as a small girl that she yelled at me for lying. 

“I know Pequeño. Do you want to tell me what happened today?” 

“Everyday Isabella and I go into the city and have coffee and do our homework, but today Alexia came to school and got me. She drove us to the training grounds and said I had to train. But I-i quit. I don’t want to play anymore, I don’t enjoy it and only did it for Alexia but it was never enough. Nothing I do is ever enough for her.” Olga grabbed my hand, giving it a squeeze for me to continue. 

“I went to Isabella’s house and she had someone there. A guy, a guy that she was fucking. She was cheating on me for god knows how long. I thought everything was good with us. She was my first girlfriend and my first kiss. I lost my fucking virginity to her and she goes and fucks someone else? It just hurts. So much. Everything is hurting so much.” 

“Oh pequeño. Come here.” Olga held me tight, my tears slowly soaking her shirt. 

“Why doesn’t she love me like she loves Alba? I don’t understand.” 

“Alexia?”

“Mhm. Nothing I do is good enough. I just want her to care about me more. Why can’t she?” It broke Olga’s heart hearing me say that. She didn’t know what was happening but she knew Alexia needed to fix it and fast. 

After slowly showering, I thanked Olga and excused myself to bed. I didn’t think I had any tears left to cry but after crying for a while, I managed to pass out. 

 •———————————————————————•

After you went to your room, Olga texted Alexia, telling her she was here and safe. Alba and Alexia both rushed back to her home. Angry and worried at you, ready to both give you an ear full. 

“Where is she Olga?” Alexia came in loudly. 

“Keep your voice down. Both of you.” Olga was very firm. 

“No she’s in trouble. She doesn’t get off lightly, we have been so worried about her.” Alexia sooke back angrily, usually she’d listen to her girlfriend but this had sent her into a rage. 

“Really Ale? You’ve been worried? So worried you couldn’t train right? That you spent all night calling her friends or going to her favourite spots to try and find her?” Olga had had enough. 

“Amor that’s not fair.” 

“No you know what’s not fair? The fact that neither of you have been listening to her. She doesn’t want to play, she did it for you Ale. She wanted to make you proud of her. She hated playing but you wouldn’t know that. She loves to draw, and she’s really really good at it. She showed me all her work.” 

Olga walked to the couch, extremely disappointed with the two women standing in front of her. 

“Her girlfriend cheated on her. She found out this afternoon. She rang Jenni and Jenni messaged me. That’s how I found her. She was at the beach, heartbroken. Then when we got home, she asked why you didn’t love her Ale. She thinks you don’t care about her. That girl may have broke her heart tonight, but you broke her heart first Alexia. You’ll need to live with the fact that you were her first heartbreak.” Olga was exhausted. Neither Alexia Or Alba said anything. Both sitting in opposite ends of the lounge room, tears silently falling. 

Olga excused herself to bed, leaving the older two in the lounge room to mull on their thoughts. She promised herself after your heartbreaking confession that she would have your back through this. Whatever tomorrow held, you would face it together. 

[crimsonrubie]

A Quiet Night

Rider!Bakugou would have one of the fastest motorcycles in the gang because he's a freak for speed and power. His bike would probably be a Suzuki GSX-R750, black and orange, with 750cc. He would be speeding with this baby everywhere. It's perfect for him because of its aerodynamic design and sharp and aggressive lines.

I imagine he loves taking his bike out on late-night rides. Especially when his mind is running a mile a second, what better way to cool off than speeding through the streets with his bike?

Warnings: Teeny tiny bit of angst then fluff! Also this is the first fic I've written in years so my writing is floppy at best and English isn't my first language so please excuse any mistakes!!

~~~

The cool night wind of Musutafu swept by and ruffled his blonde spikes as the roar of the engine purred in the background.

It was one of those nights. The silence at his home was eating him alive like an infection and without thinking, Katsuki grabbed his keys, forgoing his helmet and headed to his sleek dark and orange bike. He threw on a leather jacket over his top and sped off from his garage.

His mind hadn't calmed down since the incident this morning when he was on patrol. Heroes are known for doing their best to save everyone, but it's no secret that not everyone can be saved. The thought alone urged him to twist the throttle, revving the engine and letting it drown out his loud thoughts.

At his action, he heard a cheer similar to a kid's and turned his head to the side for only a second. The little kid's bright smile from the car beside him on the highway silenced his thoughts as he focused on him now. The car was keeping up with his bike, due to the empty road this time of night and the kid extended his hand out of the window and mimicked the motion of revving an engine.

Katsuki, to entertain the little boy, did as he wished and twisted the throttle, letting it last for a little longer and the bright smile from the boy brightened a small spot inside Katsuki's heart. The car then took a turn and the boy waved to him, Katsuki giving him one last rev before they separated.

He drove along the road, the streetlights blurring past him as the night remained quiet and peaceful except for a few cars. His emotions were still in chaos, but the low hum of the engine and the distraction of driving provided him with only some sense of satisfaction.

After half an hour, a park became visible in the distance. Katsuki noticed it was deserted for the most part and was situated a good distance away from the busy streets of the city so he decided it was a good place to stop. He parked his bike in the empty parking lot belonging to the park overlooking the beach. He killed the engine and got off of the seat, fixing his leather jacket and zipping it up as the cool air arriving from the sea sent a shiver down his body.

His lungs expanded to take in as much of the salty air as he could, letting it out in a deep sigh. Though looking out into the night sky, far from the blinding lights of the bustling city did little to distract his mind from his thoughts as they came rushing back. Now nothing around him could distract him from his swirling dark thoughts.

He hated it most when he failed in a mission, despised it and loathed it really. Whether he was bleeding all over or even had one of his arms rendered useless because of the damage, he refused to give up. Always pushing forward to save the day and kick some villain's ass. This passion was with him since he was a little boy and never left but only grew when the seed was sowed at the awakening of his quirk.

His quirk was supposed to be used for good, to save and win. What happened today was a complete contrast to that. He hated himself for letting the villain get him in such a vulnerable state. One little mistake lead to a chaotic and traumatizing ending for everyone on the scene.

Just remembering the anguished faces of the boy's parents after he utterly failed to get to him in time shattered another piece of his already broken soul. Now breathing didn't come to him as easily. His breathing was ragged and uneven, and his chest felt like it was being restricted by a boulder. His hands sought out his throat, gripping it as if his life depended on it and he gritted his teeth.

"D-damn it- Damn it all to hell!" His hand heated up without his knowledge, the nitroglycerin sweat on his palms reacting to his quirk. At his yell, a cat jumped up on a stone seat beside him and meowed. His breathing hitched and his eyes scanned the cat. Under the dim lightening of the lamp post beside the stone bench, he could decipher beautiful black fur and slit eyes that rounded out just a little at him. It wasn't a kitten, but didn't appear to be old but maybe a few years old perhaps.

The cat was looking at him, as if interested in what made him yell out into the night but he left it and plopped down on the stone seat, just a few feet away from the cat on the other side and buried his face in his hands. A minute passed which felt like an eternity before the tiniest of sobs escaped his lips. His hands now in his hair, he pulled harshly at the roots, needing anything to distract him from the searing pain in his chest if even for a second.

Gradually, the sobs left him like a dam with a crack, starting out slow and only deepening the crack and breaking it even more to allow more to flood out. His aching chest hurt, and one of his hands left his hair and grabbed at his jacket, right above the scar shielded underneath all the clothing. His fingers clutched tightly at the leather, crinkling it up as tears ran freely down his face, quiet sobs escaping without his permission.

It hurt. Everything hurt. His heart, his mind, his chest, even his hand from how tightly he was holding onto his jacket as if it was his lifeline and he was hanging on by a thread. His head was ducked as he suffered mentally and physically under the dim lightening when a weight was pressed against his thigh.

At first, he didn't notice but another thing landed on his thigh and he then pulled his head back and noticed the cat with its front paws now on his thigh, meowing up at him so softly. It was as if the little being knew he was in a vulnerable state and was offering comfort.

He sniffed, his arm rubbing over his red face and cold nose from the cold air. "You're weird, you know that?" His voice was gruff when he spoke, raspy from all the crying but the cat only climbed further into his lap, curling up as if getting ready to sleep and loafing on his lap.

The added weight of the feline and its warmth chased away some of the demons tormenting his mind. He looked down at the cat and scoffed with a sniff afterwards, realising that the cat in some way, knew to comfort him.

Katsuki wasn't a cat or dog person. His best friend Eijirou Kirishima, owned a Staffordshire bull terrier, the little guy both energetic and affectionate, a carbon copy of his owner but Katsuki never knew the appeal of owning a live animal and taking care of their needs, training them, and just sharing space with a living being he can't directly communicate with.

The cat was snuggled up on his lap and his mind now momentarily forgetting the pain in his chest, urged his hand to pet the soft fur of the black cat and he let out a breath when the soft sound of purring reached his ears. The side of his lip quirked up just slightly at seeing the little creature happily snuggled into his lap and purring like nobody's business.

While he was petting it, he then noticed a thin pink collar hidden under its fur and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. "You lost or something?" He mumbled under his breath and reached under the cat's chin to look at the tag and saw a phone number. He hummed then seeing the pink collar again, noted the cat must be female.

No wonder the cat wasn't sceptical of him. She was a house cat and well cared for from the looks of it so she didn't carry the same hesitance to humans like other street cats and approached him right away. The cat must have been emotionally intelligent, maybe a service animal?

Pushing those thoughts to the side for now, he got out his phone and texted the number a picture of the cat on his lap and his location.

Found her at the park in front of the parking lot.

He clicked send and not a second later, his phone dinged with a response and he opened it up again, the bright screen illuminating his face in the darkness.

I'm on my way! Thank you so much!!

He left it at that and put his phone down. He continued petting the cat, the notion calming him down as he soaked up the last few minutes he had with his unusual companion before she had to go back to her owner.

He gave a quick glance at the number's profile picture before he put his phone down and knew it was a girl but didn't look clearly to know any more details.

A few minutes passed by of him silently petting the feline and admiring her soft dark fur, letting the time run as he distracted himself with the continuous motion of petting the cute animal. The cat then pressed her paws on his lap then stretched making him chuckle under his breath at the cat comfortably doing whatever she desired on his lap.

"Ohh big stretch! She loves you." At the new voice, his head lifted instinctively and his breath was knocked out of his lungs. His back straightened like a board. This time it was a nice feeling, not choking him up but instead providing him with a sense of calmness and the smell of fresh air. Why, he had no idea but he welcomed the feeling in this dark time.

You looked pretty. With no makeup on and wearing a light colored hoodie and comfortable pants, you looked like you were on a leisurely walk before you lost sight of your feline friend. He found it endearing the moment his eyes skimmed briefly over your figure and back to your eyes.

Your figure closed the distance between you and you sat beside him on the stone bench, your cat upon recognising you, lazily switching from Katsuki's lap and snuggling up on yours instead. You provided her with scratches under the chin and ears as she purred. "You seriously need to be on a leash sometimes." You spoke out to the cat but he didn't detect any malice in your voice. "You always escape right under my nose but come crawling back for food huh?" The cat meowed in response, as if sassily replying to you and he watched the interaction with curiosity.

You suddenly sat up straight with a start and acknowledged the man beside you. Your reaction was similar to his if not the same. Your back straightened up and your lips formed a small rounded shape in surprise when your eyes scanned his naturally pale face. Red piercing eyes stared into yours as if to hypnotize you but you cleared your throat and offered up your hand in greeting, thankful this specimen of a man hadn't made you forget your manners.

"Katsuki bakugou." He greeted you in return, accepting your hand and nodding towards the cat in your lap. "She yours then?" He internally slapped himself for the stupid question.

You didn't seem to mind his gruff exterior and nodded with a smile, "Yes, her name's Aiko." At the familiar word, he remembers its meaning and hums.

"Little loved one."

Your eyes widened a fraction at the fact he knew the meaning and you let out a small laugh. "Yes, I love her so much and after a week of having her, I decided Aiko was perfect for her. She wouldn't hurt a fly and is so sweet with everyone, even little kids who aren't sure how to treat her. Everyone falls in love with her cuteness too, she's charming that way." You purse your lips and a blush blooms on your cheeks when you notice you rambled. "Sorry, I tend to ramble about her." You scratch at the back of your neck and he grunts in response, his shoulders relaxed as he sits back against the backrest.

"It's fine."

With his lack of words, you go ahead and ask a question in return. "You were out on a nightly stroll I'm guessing?" You tilt your head, Aiko now purring in your lap as you tuck her in your hoodie pocket so she won't get cold. It became a habit for the cat since she was a few months old and always crawled into the spacious pocket of your hoodie to warm up and surprisingly still fits.

He hums, fidgeting with his hands in his lap as he looks forward. "Just came here for some fresh air. I needed space and quiet, and found it here."

You hum and he blinks when a second later, you have your hand outstretched towards him, palm up with a snack in hand. "Take this, it's a homemade cookie, I made it. Don't worry I'm actually a good baker and you can take it as a sign of my gratitude for finding Aiko." You nudge your hand in his direction, encouraging him to take it and after a second of confusion, he accepts the cookie.

"Thanks. Do you carry cookies everywhere with you?" He raises an eyebrow at you, his attention now diverted from the beach. You noticed a small smirk appearing on his lips and rolled your eyes playfully.

"Well on occasion, yes. I always go out on walks with snacks and treats for Aiko too. Sometimes I can be out here for hours so I get hungry and speaking of that I also get my books a lot of the time too, I love reading in this park." He watched you talk with a gentle smile while your hands were busy petting Aiko's head that was peeking out of your pocket.

"Oh and I never saw you here before, you aren't from around here?" At your question, he nods in reply.

"I live in the city. I found this place by coincidence and parked here to get some fresh air." You hum and a minute later, he opens the packet you stored the cookie in and takes it out. "Chocolate chip." He comments and you nod with a smile.

"Yes, tell me how it tastes and hopefully you don't completely hate it." You giggle and watch as he takes a bite and chews.

Those few seconds felt like one of those cooking shows where the judge is eating antagonizingly slow as the crowd waits for their reaction. That's how you felt when you watched him chew down on the cookie and swallow. He licked his lips to get rid of the crumbs left and your stomach fluttered at the action but you cleared your throat and looked back into his eyes.

To your utter shame, he was smirking knowingly at you and you knew you were caught ogling at his lips but quickly asked him a question to avoid the embarrassment. "So? How is it?"

He hums and eats another bite, this one bigger than the last and you smile. "I'm guessing it's nice?" He nods, wiping his mouth with his thumb after he swallows.

"Send me the recipe." You blink. Well, that was straightforward.

"Uh, sure-" Your reply gets cut off by your laughter. He had his own unique ways of expressing his liking to something but you took it, sensing that he was just like that. "I'll make sure to send it to you now that I have your number don't worry. Right when I get back home!" He grunts and continues eating till the cookie is finished.

Conversation flowed from there for another hour at least. Talking with Katsuki felt like reuniting with a dear old friend as if you had known each other for years. Unfortunately, it was becoming late making you realise that you would have to part ways with this handsome stranger who helped you find your cat.

"Well, I'll have to head back home sadly. I have a shift tomorrow afternoon so I need to get back if I don't want to go looking like a zombie." You got up with Aiko in your hoodie's pocket, Katsuki standing up with you and burying his hands in his pockets.

"I'll give you a ride home."

"Oh! It's fine you don't need to! My apartment is only a few minutes away."

"I'm giving you a ride home. Whether you come or refuse and get kidnapped out on the street. Your choice." He raises an expectant eyebrow and you hate that he's right at the possibility of you getting kidnapped.

You sigh in defeat and nod. "Fine okay, I didn't want to be a bother that's all!" He grunts and starts walking. You quickly zip up your bag, sling it over your shoulder and jog after him until you're walking by his side.

"You are a man of few words?" He side-eyes you and shrugs.

"Don't feel like talking. Don't mistake it for me not giving a shit about our time together though. It wasn't half bad I guess." You conclude you can't get better than that from him and a smile creeps on your lips. He was being nice in his own way and even though only meeting him tonight, you felt comfortable with him.

He reaches a sleek motorcycle and your eyes bulge out of their sockets at the expensive-looking vehicle. "You gonna keep staring like a creep or what?" He snarks out but you notice a proud smirk on his lips at having his baby be marvelled at. It was apparent that he took pride in his motorcycle.

You then snap out of it and pout. "Hey, I'm not a creep! Your bike is just so cool and I'm not really used to seeing them so up close."

At your compliment, his cheeks redden just slightly and he ducks his head with the cover of taking out his keys. "Anyway get on." He nudges his head towards the bike and you walk over, swinging your leg around it, being mindful of the feline in your pocket and shuffle back on the seat as he gets on in front of you. He swings his leg over the bike with practised ease and his boots find secure footings on the foot pegs.

He inserts the key, twists it and the low purr of the engine roared to life in the silence of the night. "Hold on to me and make sure your little friend doesn't get ideas." You laugh and hold on to Aiko with one arm, wrapping your other free arm around his waist. The moment your arm makes contact with his front a blush explodes on your face at being so close to this stranger.

He had an air of kindness to him that you think isn't seen or noticed by many but when you do see it, you see a part he keeps reserved for only a handful of people in his life. You're glad the stranger who ended up finding your cat wasn't a creep or weirdo but instead turned out to be this handsome man who accepted your cookie and demanded the recipe be sent to him.

"Where do you live?" He asks from behind his shoulder as he kicks off the stand and pulls out of the parking spot, then makes a turn and gets on the road.

You relay your address to him and he scoffs. "A few minutes away? That's at least half an hour's walk away you shitty woman!" He exclaims, the wind from the ride making it come out a little muffled and you mockingly gasp. You guess he's more comfortable with you now with how his words left his mouth so smoothly and with no reluctance.

"Well sorry for declining your gentlemanly offer! I didn't want you going out of your way to get me there because you could be going in the opposite direction!"

"This is nothing. As long as you're fine I don't care how much further it is from my own home, next time you better not be as stupid with me or anyone else!" You open your mouth to retort but find yourself unable to think of anything so instead you grumble under your breath.

He chuckles at your grumbling and you feel your face heat up once again as his body vibrates with his deep laugh. The air is cold this time of night and you instinctively snuggle closer to his back, unknowingly making the blonde flush to his ears but he doesn't complain and the ride is spent in comfortable silence till you arrive at your apartment.

You dejectedly unwrap your arm from his waist and he gets up to help you out of the bike. You're swinging your leg to get off when it suddenly catches on something on the bike and you yelp as you lose balance but before you can fall any further, firm arms are wrapped around you and you're enveloped in the deep musky scent of Katsuki.

"Hey, easy. You okay?" His deep voice reverberates throughout your body and you shiver at the welcoming sound of his voice and nod, your arms braced on his chest while you're still in an awkward position on his bike. You were flustered behind belief because you felt his hard and defined chest underneath and all of it along with his voice will make you combust.

He moves to pick you up from your waist and plop you down safely on the ground and you blink at his strength. No wonder he owns such a powerful bike, it basically represents its owner. Sharp and striking just like his red eyes. Powerful and loud like him but in an endearing way, leading you to realise that you like it.

"T-Thank you, I'm not usually clumsy." You mumble, suddenly shy and he shrugs as he gets back on his bike and nods.

"Stay safe."

"Yeah, you too, Bakugou." You give him an appreciative smile and he nods in acknowledgement, a small smile making its way to his lips and you catch it before he turns his bike and speeds off into the night.

You hear an annoyed meow from your pocket and shiver at the cold air, "Whoops, sorry Aiko, let's go get warmed up in bed yeah?"

[sitepathos]

Hello, I’m the one that asked about the ability to see footage of the kidnapping. Do you think the megamycete could show them/transform into what y/n looked like in what were supposed to be his final moments in the cavern? If the family does not have visual representation of their neglect in the form of the footage could they get it from the megamycete?

I’ve had plenty of people ask about how the bats would react to seeing the Megamycete mimic Y/N after being beat up by the kidnappers and one or two people asking about how Jason would feel since he and Y/N are basically the same, so I thought I’d combine the Bats’ reaction plus Jason’s thoughts on this situation. Hope this makes a lot of people happy!

As the Megamycete talks to this group of misfits, informing them on how it and you had come to be joined, an idea enters its mind and it struggles to keep a smirk from appearing on its face.

They claim to feel bad for how they treated you for over ten years, so why not add to their guilt by showing them what became of you that horrible night?

A feeling of pity surges through its consciousness. Those feelings of pain were so fresh in your mind when it connected to you. Prior to meeting you, all those its roots embraced had long since passed away, their memories and experiences a mere shadow of their former selves. It was only with you that it knew what true pain could be, both physically and mental.

If there is a hell, the Megamycete sincerely hopes those three common thugs are burning in it.

While those three are no longer here for it to inflict misery upon, your “family” is right here and ripe for psychological warfare.

“Do you remember what you said that night,” it says as it closes the gap between it and Bruce, shifting its physical form.

It revels in the look of horror in Bruce’s face as he realizes what it now looks like. The Megamycete took the form of you right now, but now it resembles what you looked like that night you were tossed into its cavern like trash, complete with your torn, disheveled uniform to grievous wounds, even the angles of its limbs resembling those of your that night.

“You said that they did not have your son and that all your children were home with you.” It grabs the pitiful excuse of a man by the collar and pulls him closer so he can see the bullet wound and near-lifeless eyes that adorned your face. “You made it clear you did not see him as family.”

Bruce Wayne has the decency to look horrified, but it does not bring the Megamycete the joy it thought it would; instead, it only serves to make it angrier at the man.

He had no idea what you had to endure that horrible night. You were beaten to near-death and then disposed of like you were garbage and not a person and he has the nerve to claim to be your father.

It releases the man and faces the others.

“This is what became of him after that call,” it says, motioning to itself. “The leader beat him with a lead pipe before shooting him in the head like an animal in retaliation of the humiliation you gave him during that call. How can you claim to be his family when you are responsible for this?”

They are all horrified, but that does little to make the Megamycete feel better. In fact, it only adds fuel to its hatred towards these people.

“Do you know what his final thoughts were while he struggled with the pain and misery? He wished for death.”

The collective sigh they release echoes through the cave.

Bruce thought he’d failed you in every way possible, but this has opened his eyes to a new low he didn’t know he’d sunken to.

You never should’ve been walking around Gotham in the first place, even in broad daylight, the city’s practically a minefield. You were relying on Alfred for rides when he should’ve bought you your first car when you turned sixteen so you that you’d always have a reliable way of getting around.

Hell, he would’ve been more than happy to drive you around himself (something he should’ve been doing since you moved in).

The fact that you thought him so unreliable that you would rather brave the dangers of Crime Alley instead of calling him is nothing less depressing.

And when you finally decided to call on him to help, probably the first time you;d ever done that, and he makes it abundantly clear he didn’t see you as one of his children. He couldn’t even be bothered to listen to the whole phone call so he could track down three random men calling him for a ransom.

And to see how you were treated after that, by being beaten like an animal and shot in the head?

He failed you his firstborn, his baby boy.

Maybe he never should’ve been a father after all…

This isn’t the first time he’s failed one of his children (and probably won’t be the last), but this is definitely one of his worst failures.

“Y/N… I’m so sorry…”

Dick is fighting back tears at the sight of you bloody and beaten, your limbs twisted at angles that definitely look like they hurt.

He’s always prided himself on being the best big brother possible, always carving out time for his little brothers and sisters. No matter how busy he was juggling both Gotham and Blüdhaven, he’d always come running when one of his siblings called out for help.

But this is proof he’s not fit to be your big brother. Because if he was, he would’ve rushed out to find you, beat those three thugs to a pulp, and carried you back to the manor in his arms and never let you out of his sight again.

But no, you weren’t even an afterthought to him.

He knew that you lived in the manor, but he never stopped and thought how you were adapting to life in Gotham (he had no idea you were from Nevada before Alfred told him), nor did he even ask how you were doing after losing your mom.

He just assumed somebody had to be taking care of you, but he didn’t know Alfred was basically responsible for everything they shouldve been doing.

Everything he should’ve been doing.

Now this… thing is inside you, doing who knows what and he’s not there to help you, his baby bird.

As Jason looks upon the condition the recreation of you that night, he’s taken back to that night with Joker.

How many times had you been hit with that lead pipe to look like that?

As much as he was hit with that fucking crowbar?

More?

Shit, he’s accused Bruce of replacing him with Tim and he goes and does he the exact same thing with you!

Jason’s always thought of himself as Batman’s greatest failure, but he was actually yours. He knows Bruce is incapable of caring for himself, let alone children, but he was too blinded by his own vendetta to see you were suffering just like him.

Christ, he really is a failure.

Shit, if he had just a tiny bot of integrity, he would’ve gone out, killed those three fuckers, and taken you to one of his safe houses.

Hell, if he had just a tiny bit of integrity, he would’ve taken you out of that damn mansion when he met you and taken you with him where you’d have a somewhat normal life.

But no, he had to go and take his anger for Bruce out on you, a poor kid who lost his mom and dragged to live with an emotionally constipated vigilante, and couldn’t see that you were suffering just like him.

He really is a failure.

Tim takes note of the injuries, committing every detail to memory that will no doubt haunt him when he actually tries to sleep.

He’s always prided himself on knowing everything that goes on around him (there’s no such thing as privacy in this family), but he had no idea that you had a job, let alone had to rely on Alfred to bring you to and from your job.

Hell, he hasn’t given you a second thought since he met you.

He can still remember what it felt like being greeted by an empty house because his parents thought going to some fancy party or an overseas dig site. He’d never wish that kind of loneliness on anyone.

But he did. He wished it on you.

He took love and attention that could’ve gone to you and he couldn’t even be bothered to give you any of his attention.

When he first met you, he was surprised to hear that Bruce Wayne had a biological son, but saw nothing worth his attention. You obviously weren’t trained to be a Robin and there was nothing mysterious about you to warrant him into digging into your past.

You obviously came from outside of Gotham, raised by your mother, and now you were living in Wayne Manor because something happened to her. Pretty open and shut.

But there was more to you and he was too stupid to see it.

He could’ve been there for you, like a good brother, but no, he had to go and do to you what his parents did to him.

He’ll make it up to you.

As soon as he finds a way to get this mold out of you, he’ll spend every waking moment of every day finding out everything about you.

Steph is mortified by what you look like.

For the first time in her life, she actually has nothing to say.

She’s been told that her mouth is going to get her in trouble one day, but she never thought she’d get someone else into trouble.

She can remember mocking that guy who called them and she wonders how many hits you got because she had to go and open her mouth and say something smart.

It was bad enough that she ignored you just like them, but she had to go and say something to piss off your kidnapper and get you in trouble.

God, she really is the worst.

Cass takes in your injuries.

Your attacker was clearly guided by his anger, striking you in random areas to take his anger out and cause you pain.

She winces at the thought of you being hit by some common thug like you were some misbehaving dog.

You lacked their training, notably their resilience to torture, so you had to experience pain unlike any other you’ve experienced before.

She thought she had managed to shed her background as a living weapon and knew how to care for a family, but you were proof she would never be free of her upbringing.

If she couldn’t care for someone like you, how can she care for the rest of her family?

There are only a few times in Damian’s life that he feels like he’s failed and every time he vows to never fail again.

In the League of Assassins, failure is unacceptable and he learned to avoid it before he could talk.

Prior to coming to Gotham, he could count his failures on one hand and not use all his fingers.

But hearing you be taken from under their noses by some common thugs and beaten within an inch of your life is definitely a failure.

A massive failure. Possibly his biggest failure in his entire life.

You are his brother.

Granted you’re his older brother, but his training made him more capable of protecting you than anyone else.

But he didn’t.

He was too focused on proving himself superior to all others he never thought to see you were an opportunity for him to know something else other than combat and training and missions.

He could’ve known what it was like to be close to someone else he shares blood with. To let his guard down around another person and know unconditional love.

If he had done that when he first met you, then he would’ve known you were missing that day and made those lowlifes who thought they had the right to put their hands on their betters rue the day their mothers brought them into this world.

But no, even with his perfect memory, he forgot all about you and mocked your kidnappers just like the rest of his family.

And you paid the price for it.

To say Alfred is mortified is an understatement.

He had misgivings about being gone for so long and leaving you without proper support, but had he known something like this would’ve happened, he wouldn’t have left your side let alone the country.

It he did. And this is the result.

You were left at the mercy of criminals and when you reached out for help, this is what happened.

His poor boy…

The pain you went through…

And to wish for death at the end of it…

He never should’ve left you.

He never should’ve left…

[str4ngr]

working. [ nanami kento ]

cw: none, fluff, white-collar worker nanami, no canon do not SPEAK of canon to me. fem! reader. not proofread. notes: guys this is a little long.

nanami accepted that most likely, work would be his eternity. working for a pension, wages that refused to be more than just enough for his month, dealing with a whining, nagging boss. nanami knew that he was nothing more than a ragdoll to the system in which he enlisted himself, helpless to the washing, merciless crashes of the white-collar workforce.

nanami accepted the routine of apartment to work to apartment. home, work, home. work, work, work. for whatever reason, a man who's gall to break routine was near zero, did just so, taking a detour to a shop a co-worker mentioned. as a connoisseur, that was his reasonably made excuse, he had to try the new bakery. it was an interesting choice of hobby—breads, baking, the whole lot, really—for someone who barely took any time for himself. but who wouldn't want to try the new bakery, a hole-in-the-wall-esque setting with dainty decoration, dainty music to match, and a not-so dainty, in terms of volume, baker at the front.

her smiles brightened the small shop, her laughter making his lips twitch. she bounced around her pride and joy, happily explaining all kinds of pastries, loafs, and how each is made. her nimble hands delicately wrapped each of his orders, always to-go, engaging in conversation he wouldn't usually care to give thought to.

but her voice echoed in his mind, his lips pursing together as she made some comment that made his chest rumble. nanami remembered her name, noticed when her nails changed colors, when her voice was a little slower than yesterday.

yesterday?

yesterday. a man of routines is a man of routines. of course, now you were a part of it. now, dropping by after work, picking up bread or pastries he didn't really need because he can't eat so many carbs without falling ill, watching you smile when he made a joke drier than the shahara desert—he couldn't help but show up, like an obligation he loved to attend.

nanami enjoyed the way your head perked up at the familiar sound of his shoes against the tile floors, like a song to a bird. nanami enjoyed how you always had his order packed earlier because, "kento," he especially cherished, if you will, how his first name sounded on your tongue, "you're always punctual!" and he was, for you. for you because when he was on time, that meant your conversations would last longer. about work, about news, about weather, about nothing.

soon, his routine changed again. it's been changing quite often in the past couple months, hasn't it? so has yours. now, you saw him after work, blouse still lightly dusted in flour. he was kind enough to brush it off for you, his warmth seeping through the cotton of your shirt. you walked together, the evening sun still glowing hot, and even though it was summer now, it's like his touch was hypnotic. even when his touch had only lingered for a moment, it was the only thing you could feel.

his smiles were so gentle, like a breeze, wisping across the gorgeous features of his face, crinkling his eyes, the apples of his cheeks slightly rounding, his teeth reflecting the light. you chased after his laughter light a dog without a leash, a sound—not noise—you never wanted to stop hearing. and although he wasn't much of a talker, oh when he did? his voice was like soft butter and rich cocoa, guiding your being through his words with is deep tone and slow tempo. nanami's voice felt like a sirens song so utterly impossible to ignore: infatuating.

nanami hoped that this routine would stay, no more work, work, work. something brighter, your entrancing smile, your playful laughter. something softer, like the taste of your pastries, or the scent of your perfume. something like you.

notes: yeah, im coping, so what? lowkey don't like this but yk what i do like? nanami kento!!!

[auroracalisto]

Hey can you do a fiyero x reader where the reader is afraid of being vulnerable and he helps them?

yes, superfartninja, i think i can.

to be changed.

movie!fiyero x gn!reader, 3.4k words summary: to be vulnerable meant to be defenseless. it was a liability and that's all it ever would be. fiyero couldn't have that, now could he? a/n: please remember that i only have movie knowledge, so this will be based solely on what i saw in the movie. :P also, shout outs to house song by searows (was on repeat for this fic). erm. this kind of got away from me. i started it was 12 AM and now it's nearly 2 AM. hope it's coherent.

It wasn't like you to be vulnerable. It just didn't happen. It was like... asking a fish or an elephant to climb a tree, or some other weird analogy that you heard oh-so-long ago, when vulnerability aged you more than it helped.

To be vulnerable meant to be hurt. To be ridiculed, to be laughed at, to be made a fool in front of anyone who cared to look your way. It was something that you knew was not needed. You would be fine living by yourself. You came into this world alone and screaming, and you would leave this world the same way.

If you cut out the wound before it began to fester, you solved the problem immediately. Or so they say.

So that's what you did, long ago, when you swore to yourself that the pain you felt would be the very last time. It would never happen again. It couldn't happen again.

Oh, Oz, it couldn't. Your heart couldn't take it.

What was left of your heart, anyway. Sometimes you feared you no longer had one, especially when you feared the pain that would haunt you if someone else came along and made you feel that way again.

It's not that you were afraid. No, fear of being vulnerable was foolish. At least... you believed that you weren't afraid of being vulnerable.

Perhaps that was an act of foolishness in itself. Pretending that you weren't afraid. Pretending that having few friends and few moments of happiness didn't pierce your heart with every passing second.

Perhaps you needed to be better. To be vulnerable, to swear off that silly promise you made to yourself so many years ago.

But it was so difficult.

Being vulnerable was to be in pain. To be lost to a world of sorrow. To be... hurt by the very thing you swore you'd never be hurt by again.

It wouldn't happen.

You wouldn't let it.

He existed in the back of your mind. His beautiful brown eyes, the way those pretty locks fell in front of his eyes when he actually studied his books (if he ever did, of course).

When was the last time he actually tried...? No. You couldn't think of him like that. Too much thinking about his pretty face would ruin you.

You had only talked to him a few times here and there, and the first time was to merely ask him to move out of the way. He took up quite a lot of space—or at least, maybe it was his confidence. It oozed from him like an air of upmost superiority.

No...

You were just being cruel. He was just standing in the way, out of breath from singing to Galinda in the library (because of course—who didn't sing to pretty girls in libraries anymore?).

The second time you spoke to him was over the essay you had to write in your literature class. Peer reviews were the bane of your existence, and this essay, because of course it did, had a simple prompt in response to one of your readings: Taking into account the author's sheer disdain for the idea of magic, write what you believe Oz would be like without magic.

Thought-provoking, yes. You wrote a decent two pages, handwritten of course.

He gave you a paragraph.

If the world of Oz existed without magic, perhaps we would all be better off. No more bickering over the usages of it all, no more idiosyncrasies, no more debates on whether you are intelligent or mediocre if you hadn't the ability to wave a wand or utter a simple spell. If we didn't have magic, perhaps life would be far more difficult, but I also feel as if we should see what it would be like. Maybe there would be less heartbreak. More happiness to go around.

Okay. A piss-poor paragraph that made you wonder how he was even passing Madame Lillabet's literature class.

Maybe he wasn't.

You didn't feel pity for the man—nobility had the ability to do so many things that you would only ever dream of. Why should you feel pity—vulnerability—for a man you didn't know, let alone understood?

Oz, even now, his essay haunted you. You did your best with your review, pointing out the obvious things missing—a decent thesis, body paragraphs that proved his thesis, and just in general, an entire essay that was expected of the entire class.

He merely read over your essay and made one simple comment: Excellent.

Oh, yes, excellent. It was excellent to know that he was just trying to help your essay, yes? Leaving that little comment, even though you didn't make full marks—how was it supposed to help you?

Pity be damned. He was a fool, through and through.

Things muddled in your mind like they often did. Thoughts racing, heartbeat close behind the quick pace.

If you had magic, you'd be sure to quell it.

These thoughts were the one thing that you wished you could squash under the heel of your boot. They were the bane of your existence, the utterance of a foolhardy penance to the god of whatever looked down upon you and wished for pain.

Perhaps that was what was meant for you.

A life of pain—of pity from others, of the amenability to be swayed by those around you even when you tried, desperately, to stay away from those who may catch your attention.

Like him.

Oh, Oz, just like him.

Fiyero.

The man who'd lose his head if it wasn't attached to his shoulders. The man who once told you in passing that if he hadn't a brain, perhaps classes would be easier—then he wouldn't truly be all there, and he'd easily get around the... well, specifics of it all. The man whom you felt tugging at your heartstrings, even when you told yourself no.

It would not happen.

It could not happen.

You would not let it.

In typical, terrible luck fashion, you found yourself wandering the halls of Shiz late at night, unable to sleep. The thoughts racing through your head of so many things, not just him (although they kept leading back to the fool), they just weren't stopping.

An exam was to be held tomorrow. Perhaps you could create a distraction—keep the professors from being able to do as they needed. There were a box of fireworks hidden in one of the many corridor closets, kept for special occasion. You could whip a few of them out and create so much chaos that they'd surely have to cancel the exam!

You leaned against the railing, looking down at the stonework of Shiz's courtyard. A chill ran down your spine from the cold breeze, and for once, all was silent if only for a moment.

His voice brought you out from your thoughts.

"Y/n," he said, an obvious smile playing at his lips.

You squeezed your eyes shut and glanced back at him. Without saying a word, you acknowledged him.

"Doesn't look like your dorm," he continued. "What are you doing out here, all alone?"

"Thinking."

His eyebrow quirked. "Thinking? Oh," he softly hummed, coming to stand beside of you. "Well, that's no fun, now is it? What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

He snorted softly. "You're thinking about... nothing?"

"Whatever I'm thinking is none of your business," you retorted.

He stared you down for a moment, tilting his head curiously. He hummed again and looked out at where you had been staring moments prior.

"You are right," he softly said, voice much quieter this time. "Let me lead you back to your room. We have an exam tomorrow, remember? You at least need to pretend to sleep."

You paused. Since when did he care about exams? You glanced at him, fighting the urge to question him. You let out a soft sigh and shrugged, allowing him to lead you to your dorm.

The walk was quiet, and you almost questioned how he knew where your dorm was, but you didn't. He seemed to pay attention better than most (it was part of that aloofness, you've noticed), and it wasn't the first time he had seen you near your dorm.

It was at least the third. The number had to be easy to memorize by now. 133.

As you opened your door, Fiyero spoke. "You know, I've been thinking..."

"Dangerous thing for you, isn't it?" you quipped, not looking at him as you stepped inside.

He let out a soft chuckle. You amused him to no end.

"Yes, perhaps," he softly said. "But besides. I was still thinking. I've been... well, wondering if perhaps you would—"

"—no."

He blinked slowly. "What? No? Y/n, you didn't even hear what I had to say—"

"—the answer is still no," you said. You glanced up at him from the spot you had been staring at, frowning. "I don't know what this is, but we are not friends. Do not ask me for favors."

"Not friends, hm?" he softly hummed, leaning against the doorway as he locked eyes with you. So knowing your dorm number was just a fluke.

"Not friends. Now if you'll excuse me, I should probably go and pretend to sleep."

His upper lip quirked in a faint smirk. Not friends, but you still joked with him as a friend would do. He rolled his eyes and gave you a rather joking half-bow.

"Of course," he said. "Do not let me keep you up. Perhaps I should find my dorm as well."

"You should do that," you simply said, shutting the door right after.

You didn't give him a chance to say anything else, quickly locking the door and heading back to your bed.

Heart pounding, mind still racing, but not with the thoughts of earlier. No, dear reader, your mind raced with thoughts of him.

So impressionable, so—so kind, so—well, was he really kind?

To you.

He was kind to you.

Nearly a week passed you by. The exam went rather well, without any kind of distraction. Passing marks and a somewhat decent night sleep.

You do everything you can to try and avoid Fiyero. Running this way and that, going through all of the longer corridors instead of the shortcuts you knew by heart. You did everything you could to avoid his handsome face.

You did everything you could to avoid the vulnerability that plagued your heart every time you thought of him.

If you simply embraced the wants of Fiyero, perhaps not having a brain would keep you from thinking this way. You'd still have a heart, sure, but it was much better than keeping yourself on your toes wondering if you'd see the damned man at any passing second.

On the hour of the rising moon, almost exactly on the dot, Fiyero spotted you. And this time, you were not evading him.

He practically took off after you, leaving his friends behind. They scoffed and called after him, but he didn't look back. His focus was on you.

He grabbed onto your wrist as you went to leave, not letting you go.

"Y/n! There you are," he softly said. "I have been looking everywhere for you. I wouldn't have thought it would be so difficult to find you, but—"

"—there you go, thinking again," you blurted, unable to stop yourself. Your tongue was wagging faster than your brain was working.

He weakly smiled. "Yes. I know. How ironic, hm?"

You watched as he stared you down.

"Look," he softly began. "I truly—I do not know what I did to deserve you ignoring me at any which way, but I wish you would tell me why. What did I do, Y/n? I thought—well, I assumed that we were friends, but perhaps I was wrong. I find myself wrong quite often nowadays."

"I—well, Fiyero, I—" you paused. You squeezed your eyes shut and inhaled a deep breath. "I don't have friends."

He blinked slowly. "You don't have friends? What of the one girl you were with the other day? Milla?"

"I do not have friends," you repeated. "I have... acquaintances. People I do not get attached to."

"That is sad."

"What?"

He raised an eyebrow. It seemed like a commonality when he spoke with you. The staple eyebrow raise had to happen or else he wasn't really chatting with you.

"It is sad. Why wouldn't you want to get attached to people?"

"I don't want to have meaningless relationships," you said. You avoided saying, I don't want to have relationships at all. "Not everyone can be as friendly as you, Fiyero."

He rolled his eyes. "Friendly. Yes. I talk to people, but I would rather not have all the attention that I do."

"Oh, that's rich," you said, scoffing. "You play the popular little prince and then claim you do not want it? What is that, Fiyero?"

Fiyero pursed his lips. "It is just—this is not a conversation about me. I wanted to have an intervention for you since you seemed as though you were avoiding me every which way. Now. Just—"

"—an intervention? What? Please. You sound ridiculous."

"So do you!" he returned, hands to his hips like an older man scolding a child for something they broke. "You vex me, Y/n! You act as if you are interested in me, then run away hiding like a scared little pup. You act as if you are afraid to get close to anyone."

You stared at him, lips parted ever-so-slightly. But it was enough. You were done for.

He let out a curt laugh. "You are."

"What?"

"You are. Scared. I can see it in you. You listen to what I have to say, even when the others don't. I've made an effort to pay attention to you. To see what you—"

"—Fiyero, stop."

"Do not tell me to stop, Y/n," he said, voice low with conviction. "Not now. Not when I've finally figured you out. You are scared. But of what? Being close to someone? Having a friend?"

You frowned. "I am not scared—"

"—you look at me like if I were to touch you, you'd melt."

"That doesn't mean anything!"

"I can see it in your eyes, Y/n," he said, not looking away. He held eye contact with you and hoped that you would continue to do the same. "You—you're scared. To open your heart to the people around you."

You frowned, again. It was perpetual anymore. "And you're a sad man who dances and pretends everything is fine because Galinda said you looked pretty one day."

He blinked slowly, a smile quirking on his lips. "Maybe. But this—this isn't about me, Y/n. This is about you."

"What even is this? I didn't agree to have you psychoanalyze everything I've ever done."

"Neither did I, yet here we are," he said. "I've had a lot of time to think, to mull it over, and I know it. I know it now. You are scared. I don't know what happened to you. I don't know who hurt you in your past, or if something tragic happened to make you so cold inside, but there is absolutely nothing wrong with being... with being vulnerable, Y/n. There's something... magical, even, about opening up to others."

"Oh, and you would know, wouldn't you?"

He frowned. "Y/n—"

"—no. Absolutely not. You do not get to sit there and ridicule me for not wanting to be close to people and then not take what I give you," you said. "You do not let anyone close to you. Sure, Galinda, but what does she know about you? Does she know how you half-ass everything? How you hardly even talk to your 'friends' and just let them float along with you like everything is fine and dandy? You're as sad as I am, if that's what you're trying to say. Don't try to fool yourself."

"I am not trying to fool myself," he softly said. "I am only trying to make it known that I see you. I see myself in you."

"Oh, that's rich," you said, scoffing. "The rich, popular boy sees himself in little ol' me. That's perfect."

"Y/n—"

"—no. Don't. Stop. Just. I don't want to talk to you anymore. We're not friends. We never were friends. Just leave me alone."

It's simple, but it shuts him down. And with that, you run from his side, rushing to hide away in your dorm.

You couldn't believe what you did. Blowing up at him instead of listening to what he had to say. He read you like the children's book your heart truly was—while everyone else focused on the words, he focused on the pictures. The minute details that seemed to pass by everyone's mind because the story was flowing far too quickly.

He saw the delicate brush strokes, the intricate colors, the pieces of you that the words did not show.

He knew you.

And it scared you.

Only you knew yourself. If anyone else were to know who you were, deep inside, well, that would be disastrous.

It couldn't happen.

You couldn't let it.

Fear.

Perhaps fear was the best way to describe the way you felt.

You sat by the edge of the lake in the forest just beyond Shiz's campus, fingers gently brushing against the water. The surface rippled, sending small waves to the end of the shore.

You were afraid.

Of what?

Of a man knowing you?

Of Fiyero knowing you better than even your family once knew you?

You sat there, thoughts racing through your mind. It was as if you couldn't avoid them anymore.

Days had passed since you blew up at Fiyero and ran. You couldn't avoid him forever, you knew that, but it seemed as if your thoughts believed the same.

Tears pricked at your eyes. The warm, salty tears began to fall before you could even try to stop them, and a soft sob bubbled at the back of your throat.

"Y/n?"

Shit.

You quickly wiped your tears away and looked back at him—at Fiyero. But your tears wouldn't stop. A soft sob rippled through you and you turned your head away.

Fiyero came to your side, kneeling down in the soft earth beside of you. He inwardly grimaced at the dirt, but he said nothing of it. He'd bathe in mud if it meant you would stop your tears.

He reached forward, gently placing a hand to your cheek. He turned your head to face him.

"Y/n," he softly said. "It's alright. You... you're alright."

Another sob.

He pulled you into his arms, and you let him. You didn't pull away, melting into his embrace as he said you would before. He pressed his chin to the top of your head, situating himself so he would be more comfortable near you.

He softly hummed a soft tune—you remembered it. The one thing he hummed quite often when you caught him alone, or trying to focus on his school work.

Dancing through life, skimming the surface... Life's more painless for the brainless.

He was just a sad boy with needs of his own, much like you were scared of being seen. Of being known.

Of being loved.

Oh. Oh, that's what it was.

It terrified you to no end.

Fiyero pressed a soft kiss to the top of your forehead, gently cupping your cheeks in his hands.

"What's got you so upset, love?" he softly asked, wiping your tears away gently with his thumbs.

You shook your head. "I... later," you mumbled. You leaned into his grasp, and you could have sworn you saw his eyes soften.

He released a soft, shaky sigh of his own, before he pulled you back into his arms. He'd hold you until the end of the world if that's what you needed him to do.

Being vulnerable—it was the one thing you had told yourself you would never do. Ever again. And here you were, letting this man hold you and practically lull you into a calmness you'd never felt before.

Is this what it felt like? To be... weak? To be... frail?

No.

Vulnerability... it didn't mean that.

It meant that you were... open. That you had managed to open your heart to a more... malleable form.

To be changed.

To find the one thing in life that you knew would keep you going for as long as it could.

To be vulnerable meant to be loved.

[stvrgxsm]

long nights, soft days | joel miller [1.2k]

joel comforts reader while she is on her period.

c: references to blood, periods.

beams of late-afternoon sunshine flowed in from the window, bathing the room in a buttery glow.

it wasn’t often that you allowed yourself to sleep in so much, but then again, last night had been… a lot. joel could get insatiable sometimes, and there were usually little to no warning signs. when he did get like that, you slept for far longer than normal.

but this time, when you tried to roll over, all you felt was warmth pooling between your legs. familiar and sticky, you instantly knew what was going on.

unfortunately, the end of the world didn’t mean the end of periods.

you clamped your legs shut and willed yourself to not feel the twinges of pain, both in your core and legs. one was biology. the other was joel.

speaking of joel… the room was empty, but judging by the angle of the sun, he should have been home already. you stilled and listened for a moment. sure enough, pots and pans clanging in the kitchen downstairs alerted you to his presence. 

a dull ache settled over your stomach, and you squeezed your eyes shut, groaning in pain. it didn’t even occur to you that ellie could still be home, or that she would hear you.

so when she burst into the room, you sat up in shock, your muscles cramping again. “woah. lady troubles?” she asked, hands up in a placating gesture.

“no– i mean, yes. can you just– can you help me to the bathroom?”

“yeah, of course. hold on, let me–” she ducked out of the bedroom, and a moment later, you heard her yell, “joel! she’s awake! can you bring up some pain meds?” then she was back, her arm looped under yours and wrapped around your back, supporting most of your weight. the two of you made an odd pair, hobbling to the bathroom.

your period had always been particularly bad. maybe if there were no infected, you would try to seek a diagnosis, but as it was, it hardly seemed important. there were more pressing issues to deal with. 

like your family. you’d been with joel and ellie for a good six months, and nothing felt better than being known by them. ellie had started bringing you the shiny bits of glass she encountered on her outings in jackson, and joel…

well, joel was your partner. in more ways than one. he supported you, he cared about you, and he bandaged your wounds. and he fucked you stupid with increasing frequency, but that’s beside the point. 

you took a seat on the lip of the bathtub and watched ellie gather some things she thought you might need. “do you prefer pads or tampons?”

“either. whatever. which do you have less of?”

she looked at you appraisingly. “i’ll just put both in here.”

“what are you making?”

“it’s a basket of period supply stuff. for you to keep next to you in bed.”

“oh. thank you, that’s– that’s really sweet of you.”

“yeah, of course.” she had to jump to reach the next item– chocolate from the top shelf. “i know how hard these are for you.”

before you could respond, joel had shouldered his way into the master bathroom. his eyes skipped over ellie completely and landed on you. his brow furrowed. “y’okay, hon?”

“she’s on her period.”

“ellie!” he scolded, the southern twang especially obvious in his distress.

“what? it’s true!”

a brief smile flashed across your face, but it was dimmed by another layer of pain settling on top of the first. joel noticed; he always did. 

“c’mon, honey. let’s get you to bed.” he reached for you with both arms, and you thought for a moment he was going to help you walk, like ellie had. but suddenly he was holding you against his chest, your arms wrapped around his neck.

“joel!”

ellie laughed from somewhere behind you.

“what?” he asked innocently.  

then he was laying you down on your bed gently, wincing with you at the change in position. “it’s okay, sweet thing, i’m so sorry.”

“do you have those pain meds?”

his eyes brightened with the reminder, and one of his hands went into his pocket to retrieve a small bottle of white pills. “ibuprofen,” he said, placing two of them into your open palm. 

“thank you.”

“of course.” he looked over the room for a moment, then back at you and the bed. “where’s your water?”

“i don’t– i don’t have any.”

you shrunk into the bed under his withering gaze. “baby. what did i tell you?”

“i have to take care of myself?”

“yes.” he heaved a long-suffering sigh, and you smiled up at him. “i’ll get you a glass. don’t dry-swallow those.”

you nodded, cradling them in your open palms reverently. he disappeared out the door, but you could still hear his footsteps on the stairs and in the kitchen. he had heavy footfalls; part of you thought you would be able to hear him even if he was outside. 

ellie brought the basket into your room. “okay, this has everything you might need. pads, tampons, a menstrual cup, chocolate, my heating pad, the works.” she rolled her eyes. “obviously joel keeps the pain-killers under lock and key. he’s so paranoid.” 

you shared a smile with her, and then she nodded sharply. “okay, i’m leaving. going to make dinner with tommy and maria. i won’t be back until later. will you guys be okay?”

“you know we’re supposed to be the parents here, right?”

but she was already out the door. “whatever,” she called behind her, laughing.

you weren’t alone for long. joel’s footsteps came up the stairs and into your room, and he carried with him a glass of water and a bowl. he set both down on your nightstand. “i made soup for you,” he explained.

“just now?” a smile played on your lips, pulling an eye-roll from him.

“no, silly girl, i was cooking this whole afternoon. while you were sleeping.”

“well, you did keep me up late.”

his brow furrowed. “is that why you’re feeling so bad? i mean i know you’re on your period, but is it made worse by that? i’m so sorry, sweet girl, let me make it up to you.”

he was already kneeling at the edge of the bed before you could even get a word out. “no, no, no, joel, it has nothing to do with that!! really. nothing at all.”

he eyed you warily. 

“i promise! it’s totally unrelated! please, just– can you just–”

“yes, sweet girl?”

fuck. “can you please just lay down with me?” it was almost embarrassing asking joel for anything soft. you knew he wasn’t a particularly gentle man. you were surprised he was even doing this for you.

his entire face softened. “oh, honey.” and then his shoes were off and he was under the covers, curled around you. he tucked his chin into your neck and inhaled deeply. 

you giggled. “what are you doing?”

he was quiet for a moment. “just thinking about you.” his hands came up to your stomach and began rubbing soft circles into the flesh there.

“what about me?”

he didn’t answer, and when you shifted in his arms to look back, his eyes were closed. but his grip tightened, and you allowed him to pull you closer, into his warmth. another smile danced along your lips. 

who needs a heating pad when you have joel miller?

[darth-sonny]

Ooh and maybe Prime Leo 22. (Forced to Watch), I'm not sure if young Leo or Kirby era is better though...

ANGST PROMPT #22: FORCED TO WATCH

Make sure to vote for the Prime Leo AU | @tmntstorycomp

The planet wasn't very remarkable.

It is called Ulixes, and that was all they knew about it. Baba said that any information about it wasn't too important.

"Why?"

Baba smiled at that. A "surprise", They answered.

Right now, they were just staring. Ulixes looked less like a planet and more like... a mothership. They're familiar with planetary-like ships – the Technodrome was one, too – but something they learned is that planet ships is that they had to be in the same shape as actual planets.

This planet ship, however, was in the shape of an upside-down cone...

"Their mothership is weird," they say. "It's not in the shape of a planet... that could be bad in the long run..."

Baba placed a clawed hand on their head.

Ĝ̵͙̞̲̆͆͘o̵̢͎̥̼̊ő̴̟̹̎̋̚͠ͅd̵̝͂͊ ̴̻̅j̴̨̃͒̾͜o̴̡͌̈́̆̒̈b̴̫̞̥̅̽̃! They say, demonic mask off and smile on.

It was enough to get their to begin to wag.

D̸̞̣͑̆o̶͕̿̓͑̈́̾ ̷̧̪͍̋y̶̝̮̅͝ő̷̤͛ù̵͈͖̖̥͂̿͗̚ ̴̫͖̲̆̔̒̈́w̷̟̱̯̞̐͊͋̓a̸̩̿n̸͙͂́̊̾̌t̷͆̉̍̕͜͝ ̶̬͙͓̻͇̀̆̿ț̴͔̓͊̾ͅo̶̖̗̫̜̥͒̅͌͝ ̶̨̏l̵̥͙͙̿̈́̾͝ĕ̵̦̉̒͘̚à̸̳̈́ȑ̴͇̯̤̆͘ṉ̴̟̰͙́̀̀ ̶̧̙̬̩͒͜͝m̴̱̀ǒ̸̥̉ṛ̶̰̻̥̫̿̈̏̔͠e̸̯̾̌̃̃͠ ̸͙̪̼̠͑â̵̙͚͈͑̄͝b̸̘̟̝̫̑̔̕o̴͇̱̹̓̈́̃ͅù̶̦̖̬̭̂͒͠t̷̛͍͊̋.̵̯̘̋̌.̴̺̫̰̜̈́̈́͝.̸̢͚̄̒ ̸͚̈́ṯ̸͎͔̱̍ͅh̸͈͕̭́͗é̴̲m̵̨͎̼̳͍͐̏̏͐?

They nodded.

Baba smiled again.

"This is Uixes," Baba begins, Their voice was different now... it happened sometimes, Their voice changing from what it always was to... this.

"This is the planetary mothership of the Triceratons," They continue. "They were the very first beings We came across during Our travels alone."

"Prideful. They had a warrior's mentality. Giant, too. Our throne is the skull of one, you know." A bitter smile grew on Baba's face. "They enslaved Us, saw Us as nothing more than a being to be experimented on, something with no sentience or consciousness... and they were right! If for a bit.

"Back then, We truly were nothing more than just a simple creature, wandering between stars and galaxies, with not a care in sight. Sometimes, We wonder what We would've been like had the Triceratons not found Us..."

Baba scoffed.

"Thinking about it, however, sends Us into a state of... rage, as one would call it. Just a simple creature, with no more consciousness than that of an animal... that would be an injustice of an indescribable magnitude. Our captors had it all, so couldn’t We?

"So for millenia, We watched them. Their ways, their manners, everything that made them who they were.

"There was something that defined them, what drove them to do what they did – it was a phrase, just some words that meant nothing to Us then, but everything to them: strength always prevails."

"What happened to them."

Baba's smile was much more genuine.

And... scary...

"Oh, they're gone now. Just a few left. All of them were too frightened to leave their ship after We... thanked them for their generous hospitality." They sigh. "But, here we are. Truly, if it weren't for them, We wouldn't be who We are. The Triceratons truly were a race of prevailing strength."

They blink in confusion.

"Were?"

Baba smiled one last time, before their mask hid Their face again.

W̵̧̦̱͍̏͂ẹ̵̤̳̹̩̐r̸̨͈̙̼͑ė̴̋͘͝͠��̻̠.

A snap of their fingers, and everything turned red.

They watched, eyes wide, as the mothership quickly began to disintegrate. They felt Baba place a hand at the back of their neck...

Screams erupted from everywhere.

Screams of horror, terror, pain, rage...

They were loud. Too loud. So very, very loud...

"We escaped their enslavement, little one," they heard Baba's voice say. "We made sure to pay our thanks in full and that their slaughter was as quickly as it was merciless."

The screaming got louder and louder...

"When the time comes, We hope that when We give the order, you will commit to it the same way We did..."

Flashes of blood, viscera, bones, and flayed skin filled their head...

They could smell the corpses, the rot, the stench of vomit, and spilled blood...

"But those times are still so far way, and you are still so very young..."

"You're sick. What happened?"

Kirby looks at daddy, brown eyes filled with worry.

"I don't know..." they sniffle out.

Daddy just bites his lip, almost looking like he wanted to say something, but he stopped himself.

Instead, he picked Kirby up, held them close, and began to rock back and forth.

"Alright," Leo mumbled as Kirby fell asleep. "Just for now, I'll let it slide."

[gemisbored]

a whole swarm of Hornets!

I've been working on this bit-by-bit over the course of several days. hope everyone likes their Hornets!

@raddest-laddest @featherlouise @dooblebugss @a-sociopath-do-your-research @cheese-grater-terminator @malk-with-tea @dairyfreenugget @abugshapedeldritchbeing @conconpasta @xylo-art @ostebee @linnyaaaa @tenyardstowitchyard @ruthlesslistener @doodledrawsthings @rainechiime @ridleymb @foileadeux @thehappiestgolucky

[deoidesign]

Ray of sunshine

(pre-launch page for their comic)

[expelliarmus]

[pingucantswim]

happy day and night dtuesday from the scriptwriters

[asaka-lucy-dr-rc]

ゲーム本編では見れないけどデジタルアートブックに載ってるレインコート無しのハララの衣装が好き。

Although we can't see it in the game, I like Halara's outfit without the raincoat. (You can see it in the digital art book.)

おまけ/BONUS

Lines: Yakou: Hey, Halara... I know I said you could use it, but don't you think it's about time to give back the seat to your chief?

Halara: I don't think so.

Yakou: Ah... I see...

[cq-studios]

Do you have any screenshots of your favorite details from KHUX?

HAHAHAHAHA, yeah I do

Gonna just drop a read more here 'cause if y'all know me at all you know this post is probably gonna be 10KM long lol

So, I'm gonna try to hold myself back a little because I literally have like 10 pages of notes about specifically stuff in the backgrounds and I doubt the internet will find my bench and lamppost count interesting. (Also image limit lol)

I'll list just 4 things for now (in no particular order) and talk about them a bit underneath.

NUMBER 1 || STREET SIGNS

So there are four street signs that we’ve seen in Daybreak Town. Two are in the Fountain Square (A and B), one is in the Marketplace (C), and one is in the Clocktower Outskirts map (D).

For B and D it’s pretty easy to figure out what the represent. B is a clock, probably representing the Clock Tower… or maybe the best place to see the Clocktower because it’s in Fountain Square. The overall shape of it is different from the rest of the signs so I imagine that means something. D is a gondola or canoe of some sort, which makes sense because it’s next to stairs that seemingly lead to the canal that runs through town. Maybe there’s a ferry system of some sort?

A and C I’m less sure about. The designs don’t really bring anything obvious to mind. Maybe C is Munny because it leads to the Marketplace? I’m not sure.

NUMBER 3 || DOOR UNDER FOUNTAIN SQUARE

See what makes this interesting to me isn’t just the fact that apparently Fountain Square is hollow underneath (maybe for pipe repairs or something, I don’t know) but just the general fact that a lot of structures in this town, that maybe shouldn’t be, are hollow.

If you look even some archways have windows, so there has to be an open space inside, right? Most of them seem at least connected to houses so I assume they’re basements or something. (The one by murder house gets me tho, like that’s right under the bridge. Who’s living right under the bridge)

And I also feel like this leads into the fact that, similarly but not as extreme as in Scala, Daybreak Town is kinda built on top of itself. Maybe that’s a symptom of being around so many (and possibly on) mountains but I still feel like it should be talked about more.

NUMBER 4 || LIGHTHOUSE INTERIOR MAP

There is so much to unpack here but I’ll try to keep it brief.

So I’m pretty sure this is one of, if not the oldest building in Daybreak Town. Two reasons.

1. Instead of having little wall lamps, like the rest of the town and buildings, all the light seems to come from mounted candles.

2. There are swords (A) on the walls and not Keyblades. Why would the Keyblade town not have Keyblades on its little shield emblem? Is it possibly because it was there before Keyblades?

This staircase here (B) is also the only known (not sewer drain) way into the waterways. It leads into the sewers then out to the little dock below the Lighthouse with the boat, hence the sign.

There’s these maps here (C) that I don’t really know what to say about, but is definitely worth pointing out. They’re all the same and I assume show the layout of the area surrounding the town (the darker parts being water). It could be a world map though (darker part being continents)… I don’t think we’ll ever really learn lol

And also I don’t know what this is (D) but I think it’s interesting that it has writing on it. It kinda gives me the vibe of those flat on the ground gravestones…

NUMBER 5 || BANNER

Daybreak Town actually has a flag it’s all over the place and you’ll start to see it everywhere if you look for it. They also kind of look like the banners in Radiant Garden. The colours and shape/mounting are the same but the designs on the flag itself (and mounting) is different.

I have no clue what that implies, if anything, but I figure it’s worth pointing out ‘cause it’s interesting.