#too bad almost all her writing in the comics is just BAD

[funfettidoc]

best teen titan dont argue with me!! (Feel free to argue actually)

[nyxiemania]

Five character quiz! Not sure if I'm doing this right but I was tagged by @tropicalcryptid so I gotta make an attempt. Also I'm horrendous at calling my favorites to mind off the dome and I'm trying to limit to one per fandom so this will probably be inaccurate by tomorrow.

I realized these are all girls too lmao so I'll do a reblog for the boys as well.

[prael]

REPLACED

Newjeans Minji x male reader smut

Quickfire challenge 1. Thank you @midnightdancingsol

The prompt: "You know why this happened, @capslocked – yes, you."

Masterlist word count: 3,911 Kofi(donations/commissions)

It's all a matter of perspective. From one side of the room, the world is calm.

And the other? Well, that's Minji.

“Want to know the one thing worse than outright rejection?”

Minji has barely walked in the door and she is already shouting off in riddles. She's standing in the doorway, her hair wet from the rain and a little bit tangled just above her shoulders. The water on her overshirt is so deeply sodden into the fabric that it weighs on her. It sticks to her skin that's so clearly visible underneath the LED spotlight above her and her face is twisted in this way of pure irritation that you've rarely seen. It's almost comical.

Or it would be if she wasn't throwing her bag on the floor with an almighty thud and a little yelp from the floorboards below.

“Minji?” is all you say in some hushed tone as you sit on the armchair by the window, hot drink in one hand and your phone in the other as the world passes by in the distance, drowned in downpour.

You look up to watch Minji as she shouts, "How about getting a part, only for it to be taken away? Being promised the world and then having it rug-pulled so you fall flat on your fucking face?!"

Now, Minji never swears in anger. And never means never (again, in anger, specifically). So, it's pretty much a sign of the end of the world when she does. She's kicking off her shoes now, throwing them in the direction of the door and they clatter on the floor like the battering of a drum.

"I—uh."

"You—uh," she mocks, taking a step forward.

"Woah. Minji. What happened?" You ask, setting down the phone on the sill of the window. Minji's stomping her way toward you. Her eyes are wide and filled with something you haven't quite seen before.

"This complete—"there are some sounds from her mouth but they don’t quite resemble words"—shit for a fuck brain!" See, Minji never swears like this, so she's so bad at it that it's laughable.

"That bad, huh?"

"Oh, it's a great idea; an amazing concept. I'll write you a fantastic character and it will be romantic and hot and everyone will love it," Minji rants in some sarcastic tone while peeling her shirt off her skin and piling it onto the hardwood floor. She stands in only her sports bra with her arms raised and her voice in high pitch, mocking. "Except, you're not good enough. Oh, no. I have to give the part to this other girl. She's prettier and nicer and just better than you!"

"Ouch." You say, watching as she flops onto the couch opposite. The coffee table in between you is a lousy line of defence. Her socks have little splatters of rainwater on them and not too far above that, her skirt sits just above the knee.

"Oh, shut up," she replies.

"Minji." You throw her a look that says 'Stop taking it out on me', which she understands, but it only gets her to fold her arms dramatically with a little huff and a puff from her mouth, followed by a pout. Then you ask her, "What part even was this? TV?"

"Not exactly."

"An ad? Video game? Movie?"

"Fanfiction."

Fanfiction.

"What?" You blink, to which Minji sighs and rolls her eyes, head tilted to the ground.

"Fanfiction."

"A fanfiction?" you question again. It’s not like you misheard, it’s just an utterly strange thing for her to be so pent up on.

"Don't say it like that." She snaps, leaning back into the chair and crossing her legs so one of her little rain-splattered socks is suspended in the air, and she twists and turns her foot impatiently.

"Just trying to figure out why you're so annoyed about fanfiction."

"Because the guy's a complete moron."

"Probably," you say, drawing your mug of coffee close to your lips. You blow on the surface and Minji is silent. You wait, the steam is coming off the top and through it, you watch her as she thinks as her eyebrows furrow together. Minji shifts in her seat again, the annoyance making her chronically uncomfortable. 

"He replaced me!" She shouts, slamming her hands into the arms of the chair and then Minji stands. She takes a few steps and then stops and turns to face you, her eyebrows furrowed and her arms folded, her legs are slightly apart and she's tapping her foot.

"Does he think I'm not pretty enough? Not funny enough? Not sexy enough? Does he think that I wouldn't be good enough at what he wants me to do, hm? So he doesn't want to write me sucking a dick? Well, screw him. Fucking Capslocked."

You're not sure what's going on here, so you're just sitting back and watching her, coffee nestled in your hand and feet propped on the table. She's standing still, waiting for you to say something, anything, and when you don't, she begins to pace.

"Why would he change his mind and just decide that someone else is better than me? What, does he not like my body? Do you not like my body?"

"Your body is fantastic." You say, taking another sip of the coffee.

"Yeah, and don't you forget it." She snaps, stopping again and placing her hands on her hips, either side of that exposed waistline.

"The fuck kind of name is 'Capslocked' anyway?" You mutter, mostly to yourself. Minji doesn't reply, but you see her take a step closer to you.

"And," Minji begins and then pauses, you look up at her and she's just staring. Her cheeks are flushed and her breathing is a little laboured, her chest rising and falling with each breath. There's a pause. Her tongue runs over her lips and you can see her thinking—gears grinding inside her head.

"And?" you ask.

"Shut up," she hisses, kicking your leg so your feet fall from the coffee table and you almost spill the drink down yourself. She places her hands on your knees, bending over to you.

"Minji, my drink—"

"Shh." her hair falls across her face, a black silk drape half-covering the expression beneath. There's an anger under there, something she's trying to push back down, but it's not quite working. Her nails dig into your thighs as she pushes them apart, and the steam rises again above the surface of the liquid in your cup. Minji is too busy running her hand along your crotch.

"What're you—"

"Replaced me," she repeats to herself, a little huff leaving her as she slips down onto her knees. "Fucking replaced me."

"Minji, I'm sure he—"

"I don't care. Shut up. I'm not talking to you." Her hands are shaking, whether from frustration or some other confused feeling that burns under her skin. Probably a mix of many feelings. They're fumbling at the button of your jeans and she's tugging down the zip, her teeth bared. You're watching, and it's as if she is possessed.

Your heartbeat is thunderous in your ears, the heat is rising and Minji is pushing her hair out of her face.

"I'm gonna do this so well."

"You always do."

"I said stop talking. So. Stop. Talking," she sounds out each word with authority, her eyes wide and angry. Minji is pushing down the fabric and reaching into the opening in your underwear. She wraps her fingers around you, the cool touch of her skin making you jerk.

"Minji, my drink." Your hand trembles slightly as you try not to spill it. Minji doesn't listen. She pulls you free. A low hum leaves her throat as she licks her lips and leans forward. Her warm breath is ghosting over you, her eyes are closed and there's a little smirk on her lips. Your cock is only halfway to hard and her hand is wantingly trying to coax you into arousal.

It doesn't take much. It never does with Minji.

"Fuck," you groan, the sound of your voice making her look up.

"Don't," she replies, a warning in her eyes. Minji's hand is moving up and down and it's not with that same gentle caress she usually has.

"God, Minji."

"Quiet." She stops, her lips are pouted and her eyes are locked onto you. Her hand is around you, the pressure is gentle, but it's enough to hold you. You're frozen there a moment, her eyes are staring right through you and you're not entirely sure what's going to happen. "Don't say a word, and don’t spill your drink,” she tells you, her free hand rubbing your thigh.

"Minji—"

"Don't." She whispers, her tongue licking over the surface of her lip. Her mouth opens, and she's leaning in. The warmth of her breath is making the muscles of your abdomen twitch and your head spin. Her tongue is the first thing that touches you. She's holding you still, and the head of your cock is resting on her bottom lip, and the feeling of the smooth surface makes you want to thrust forward, but Minji's hand holds you firm.

You bite your lip as Minji's tongue swirls around the tip. It's light and soft and sends electricity through your nerves. You groan ever so slightly and she looks up at you, her eyes narrowed. Your knuckles whiten as you grip the mug, her hair tickling the inside of your thigh as she lowers her head.

Her tongue runs along the underside and pastes your cock with a wetness. The hand around you moves down, and she takes you in. Her mouth is heaven, and her lips the closing gates. You let out a deep sigh, your chest heaving, and Minji's free hand slides up the inside of your shirt, her nails grazing your skin.

Her mouth moves, her lips tightening, and the movement is slow. It's torturous and the sensation of her tongue swirling around the underside of your cock sends you spiralling. Minji knows this, and she's looking up at you. You want to touch her; you want to tangle your fingers into her hair; you want to grab her and pull her against you.

But her eyes speak many words left unspoken. They command your stillness, your silence, and your complete submission.

Minji is working her mouth over you, and her hand is stroking you, up and down and up and down. She's bobbing her head and humming slightly. The melody is almost hypnotic but sounds as if being played by force rather than elegance.

Her scratches are harder than ever and it feels like fire across your chest. Your toes are curling and your head is thrown back. The heat from the mug permeates into your skin as you grip it tighter.

"Ah, Minji." You moan. Minji stops, looking up at you. There's a drop of spit on her lip, and her face is flushed. You're not sure what to do. She's glaring, and she's holding you. Your heart is beating like the hammer of a drum and just above it, her nails grip, threatening to pierce through flesh.

"I said quiet." Words laced with venom. She digs somehow deeper into your chest as she pushes herself to her feet. "Now, I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to fuck you until I scream and you're going to stay quiet."

You're not quite sure what's happening. This is a Minji you have seldom seen before, but it's all happening so fast. She's pulling up her skirt, sliding down her panties, and she's kicking them off so the fabric lands somewhere to the side. She's stepping forward and her knees are touching the armrests. Closer and closer she comes with her eyes fixed on you. 

Your mouth is dry, and her fingers are on your jaw. Her eyes bore holes in your own and she's lowering herself. In a moment of weakness, you throw a glance at your hand, still holding the half-full cup. There's an angry sound from Minji and she snarls, "Focus on me."

Minji swipes her arm at the cup, sending it flying. You watch the arc of the cup and the contents spill across the floor. She's not waiting, she's not looking. There’s not an ounce of concern within her for something so trivial.

You feel the soft wetness of her sex on your tip, she's rubbing herself on the head, the moisture spreading along the underside and Minji's face is screwed up in pleasure and her legs are shaking. She's panting and moaning and she's trying to slide down.

"Minji, are you—"

She thrusts her hand over your mouth with a growl and wild eyes. Her nails are biting into your cheek. "Not. Another. Word."

Minji's other hand is on your shoulder; using it for balance as she tries to move herself. She's lowering herself down and the head of your cock slips into her.

She's so warm. So unbelievably wet. Minji gasps and her back arches and her breasts heave beneath her slightly see-through sports top as she breathes. Her nails dig deeper into your flesh, her lips are parted and her head is thrown back, leaving her throat exposed—a pale expanse of milky perfection.

"Oh, God," she moans, the sound reverberating around the room as she slowly sinks and the walls of her cunt are tight on you. So tight. She trembles as she speaks. "You can't replace this."

Her skirt is around her waist, the material covering the sight of where your bodies meet. But you can feel it; you can feel every little movement she makes.

"I'm so wet."

So fucking wet.

"You're so hard."

Hard. So hard.

"How could anyone replace this?"

How? How could you possibly replace this?

Her cries are shrill, and the heat of her is all around you. It's the only thing you can focus on—her. You try to answer, but your words never make it past the hand on your mouth. She's panting, and her hair is wild, her eyes wide and her mouth open. And she's just riding until she can't no more. Until her muscles grow weak and until her cum leaks between her legs.

"This is what they want, isn't it? They want to fuck me. Riding them. On my knees. They want me bent over the table, or against the wall, or—or—fuck!" Her words are sharp and punctuated with gasps and moans. "Want me to cum—" she trails off into something close to a scream, her body convulsing. Her back is arched and her hips are pressed down onto yours.

She's grinding into you, and you can feel her clench around your cock. Your head is swimming, and your hips are jerking. You can't breathe. Her fingers are loosening their hold on your mouth, but you dare not speak. You're not even sure if you can.

Minji's hand is moving, sliding down your cheek, around your jaw and then gripping on your neck. She admires the red claw marks on your cheek.

"That's right," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "They want to fuck me, don't they? They all read and write those filthy little stories and keep dreaming of the impossible. But that fucker won’t write it for them."

You can only sit and take in the way that she is glowing with the sweat, the light catching her skin and highlighting the contours of her face and her collarbone. Her small top clings to her sticky chest and leaves so very little to the imagination. Through it you see the smooth curve of her breasts, the stiffness of her nipples and below it the ridges of her toned abdomen that flexes with her slowing grind.

She's climbing off you now and pulling you up from your seat. Her arms are around your neck and her eyes are on yours. You're staring into the depth of her eyes, the black pupils large and the irises a warm, golden honey.

"You're not going to replace me, are you?"

"Never."

"Good."

She leans back a little and pulls your shirt up until it's around your neck. She pulls it to your mouth, feeding the fabric into it before tying some sort of makeshift knot behind your head. "Now. Not another word." Minji pulls off her own top, peeling it away from her sweat-soaked skin.

You watch as she takes a few steps back; her cotton-hugged feet on the ground, her skirt falling back over those long legs and her hands on the hem of the fabric. She's smiling at you, a wide and wicked grin. You watch her and she's watching you. She's pulling it up now and her hands are underneath it. She turns to the window. "Now you're going to pin me against this window and do me, aren't you? Nod if you are."

You nod.

Minji giggles, throwing a look over her shoulder. "I'm the best, aren't I?" 

Minji doesn't wait for you to nod again. She turns away and looks out the window—the city is alive. The rain is falling; the lights are flickering and cars are passing by far below. Minji is leaning her forehead against the glass, her eyes closed and her mouth slightly agape. Her hair is wild and messy and the light is illuminating her.

You're stepping towards her, one hand on her back, the other sliding over the curve of her ass. You can see her reflection, the smile on her lips. Her hands are on the glass, palms flat, and you're sliding a hand between her legs and over her wet, sensitive skin.

She's shivering and letting out little gasps as your fingers dance along the flesh and your fingertips tease her folds. She's whimpering, and the sound makes your cock twitch.

"Fuck me," Minji whispers, her nails scratching the window. You can't deny a woman so insatiable.

You adjust your jaw; it's so uncomfortably pinned open and you're unable to say a word. You can't tell her just how nice that ass is and how the view inside the window makes a mockery of the one outside. You can't tell her how her hair is so beautiful, or how her eyes are the prettiest you've ever seen. You can't tell her anything.

But you can tell her in another way—through touch. The thought sends a chill down your spine and your teeth sink into the material of the shirt. Minji's whining and you're slipping your fingers between her lips. She's hot, and the heat is dripping from her. It's on your fingers and it's soaking into your palm.

Minji is moving her hips, trying to find purchase on your fingers, the tip of one brushing her clit. She gasps and throws her head back. You're sliding a finger inside her, the movement easy and Minji is bucking her hips, her body trying to pull you further and deeper.

"Fuck me like I'm the only woman in the world. Like you'll die if you don't fuck me. Like there's no one else in the world who can make you feel like I do."

You're pushing her against the window, the foggy condensation from her breath and the heat of her body mar the surface. Minji is laughing—the hot and breathy kind of laugh—as you press her into the glass.

"That's it. Come on. Fuck me now,” she orders and just like that, you're doing it. She's moaning and her back arches. You're inside her and the tightness is enough to make you come undone. You're pressing her harder and harder against the window.

"That's it. Oh, yes. Harder. That's what they all want."

You're slamming into her, and she's taking it. You're not holding back. Minji is moaning and her fingers are curling, nails raking. Her voice is echoing in the room and the sound makes your skin prickle.

"They all want me like this. Bent over and begging. Oh, fuck yes."

"They can't have you." You growl through the shirt, your teeth tearing into the fabric.

"No." Minji screams, "They can't have me. They can't touch me. He can't touch me. Won't even write about me. If only he could see me now. I bet he would change his mind. Wouldn't you?"

You fuck her until the muscles in the back of your legs stiffen. You fuck her until she's screaming. You fuck her until the glass is a mess of fingerprints, sweat, and spit. Until the golden skin of her back glows with moisture.

You fuck her until your vision starts to fade and your heartbeat is so loud in your ears that it’s unbearable. You fuck her until you can't anymore.

And she's still going, her screams echoing and her body writhing against yours, and it's all too much. You need to release, and it needs to be inside Minji.

You're coming undone and your hips jerk and stutter and Minji's body is convulsing. Your cum is spilling into her, and she's cumming again and she's screaming, the sound so shrill that it hurts. You're groaning and she's shaking, the walls of her cunt clenching and drawing your orgasm out until you can't think and you can't breathe and everything is both too much and not enough.

Leaning forward so her back is flush with your chest, and she is truly pinned. Your breathing is hard, and hers is heavy and the two of you stay there for a while, frozen in ecstasy. The room absorbs the sound of your combined pants, the rain and the distant hum of the city.

Minji is the first to move, twisting herself free from the weight of your body against her. Your cock slides out. The feeling of the cool air and the absence of her body sends a shiver through you. You stumble, the shirt falling from your mouth and your vision is blurry.

Minji is laughing and you're looking at her as she is plucking away the strands of hair which stick to her face. And when she finishes, Minji steps forward and slaps you. "I told you not to make a mess."

"Minji, you made the mess."

"Shut up."

"But I—"

She grabs you by the neck and kisses you. Her lips are hot and the kiss is hungry and messy. Her tongue is in your mouth and her hands are all over you. The kiss is hard and deep and it's leaving you breathless.

She's pulling you to the ground, her legs wrapping around you and your hand is on her thigh. The heat of her core is against you and her nails are digging into your back. She's biting your lip, and she's pushing you over onto your back.

She's straddling you. Her hands are on your chest, her palms pressing down.

"What the hell has gotten into you?" you pant. Minji's looking at you with a disregard for your words.

Your cock is so tender under her rough motions, and there’s no stopping your whimper. Minji is smiling, and the sight is so sweet. "Are you complaining?"

"No," you manage to say, as a shiver runs down your spine as she lowers herself and brushes her lips against your ear.

Her tongue is running over your earlobe and she's nibbling at the sensitive flesh. Her hands are on your shoulders and her legs are squeezing your waist. "Good boy. We're not done. Not even close."

[finelinefae]

tongue-tied

synopsis: y/n has a stutter and harry likes to hear her talk

word count: 3.1k

contains: fluff, highschool romance, harry's a football player, popular boy x shy girl, brief mentions of bullying

a/n: happy soft girl Sunday !! I wasn’t planning on posting just because I posted the second part of the aviator a little later than I was meant to but I could resist putting this one out <3

. . .

“E-excuse me!” Y/N weaved her way through the mass exodus of students heading in the opposite direction to the lunch hall. She had tried to leave class a few minutes before the lunch bell to avoid the large groups of people but she had been so invested in writing her essay, she’d lost complete track of time. 

She was running as fast as she possibly could to get to the library, knowing the person waiting for her wouldn’t get too impatient but she didn’t want to waste a second of their lunch break not being with him. Her bag slipped from her shoulder, her braids flying behind her and her knee-high socks falling down her calves. 

Y/N barely registered the people around her, wondering where she could be going in such a rush, until her face collided with soft, grey fabric. Before she could even get embarrassed and profusely have to apologise for bumping into them, long arms snaked around her, hands clasping behind her back. She caught a whiff of his woody cologne and the floral fragranced detergent his mum always used to wash his school uniform.

“There y’ are, Dove.” He murmured, “I was starting to get worried.”

Y/N looked up and settled on those familiar green eyes she loved so much. She relaxed into his embrace, “Harry,” She sighed. 

Harry and Y/N had been dating since they were fourteen. If it weren’t for the fact that their parents all worked together at the local hospital, they probably would never have met at all, although Harry liked to believe they were fated to be together so they would have ended up meeting each other some way or another. 

Harry had always been popular at school. For one, he was on the football team which instantly made him a name within their year group. He was also very handsome for his age. Girls would whisper and giggle whenever he passed by in the hallways even those from the lower years. Despite the fact they had just turned seventeen, Harry could honestly pass for an almost twenty-year-old with how tall and mature he was. 

Y/N was the complete opposite. When it came to her social life she was shy and not often one to make friends easily. She was part of the arithmetic club and had made a few friends there and in some of her other classes. She liked to keep to herself and struggled to talk in class not only because she was quiet but also because she had a particularly bad stutter. 

It had developed when she started High School. She had been to multiple speech therapists to help her get rid of it and although it wasn’t as bad as it used to be, it still never failed to make her life all the more difficult than it already was.

A lot of the other kids liked to pick on her for it too. Whenever teachers picked on her in class and she’d reply, the rest of the class would start snickering, whispering in each other’s ears. She wanted to be invisible to everyone but it was her stutter that made her stand out.

When Harry’s family would come over to Y/N’s house for dinner, her parents would often force them to go off together whilst the adults spoke in the dining room. She remembered the first time she invited him into her room and how embarrassed she was when he saw all her comic books lying on the floor that she had forgotten to put away. But it eventually became the seed of their relationship, the common ground that allowed them to bond. 

Soon Harry was inviting Y/N to his football games and up to his room every other weekend when she’d come over with her parents. They’d exchange comic books and talk about their favourite characters. Y/N was always apologising for her stutter whenever she’d ramble on for too long but Harry never cared, he loved hearing her talk. 

Their first kiss was on her bed whilst their parents were in the room below them. Harry was the one to initiate it and Y/N hadn’t been expecting it so it was slightly awkward at first but then she got used to it and eventually all she ever wanted to do was kiss him. Every weekend, whether at her place or his, all they did was sneak around and kiss each other, giggling and falling in love all at the same time. 

Now, three years later, things were still the same except they were older now and more in love than they were yesterday. 

Wherever you looked, Harry was there, and Y/N was never too far behind. Students had grown accustomed to their relationship, and the bullying Y/N endured wasn't as severe as it used to be. Even teachers couldn't help but be enamoured with their young love — how fortunate it was to find love at such a young age. 

Things were great, everything was great and Y/N had hoped she could finish her last year of High School on a high note. That was until she entered her English class on a Friday afternoon when the teacher announced it was time for their presentations which would go towards their final grade. 

“I can’t Harry!” Y/N cried into her pillow after school, Harry was sitting on the end of her bed with his back against the wall as he rubbed his hand up and down her back. 

“I know Dove,” He comforted her, already knowing the reason she was so upset over it.

“Everyone’s going to l-laugh at me,” She could already picture herself standing up in front of her class and everyone pointing and laughing at her. 

Harry sighed, “Dove,” He shook her gently, “Will y’ look at me?” 

Y/N hesitated before turning her head so her cheek lay against the pillow. Harry smiled and lay on his side in the spot next to her, their faces inches apart, “There’s m’ pretty girl,” He cooed, his heart hurting at the tears on her cheeks. He cupped her cheek in his big hand and wiped some of those tears away with his thumb. 

“I-It’s not fair,” She huffed, “Why’d I have to have this stupid stutter.” 

“Hey,” He frowned, “Enough of that hmm? Everything about you is beautiful, y’ know I love to hear y’ talk. Could sit here for hours and just listen.” 

“But you’re d-different,” She whined, shuffling closer to him so she could hide her face in his grey jumper. Her stutter was rarely ever that bad in front of Harry which was why he was the easiest person she could talk to. 

Harry laughed breathily, his hand going to her hair to play with the strands, “Would it help if I helped you a little?” 

“How?” Y/N asked, her words muffled by his jumper.

“We could practise in the library at lunch, y’ could read me a few things and it might help your stutter.”  He thought.

Y/N’s head looked up to his face where she could count every mole and freckle on his nose and cheeks. She couldn’t help but pucker her lips to kiss his jawline, “That’d be nice,” She murmured. 

“Yeah?” He smiled, kissing the top of her head in return, “I only want to help you so if you don’t enjoy it or you’d rather practise alone then y’ can tell me,” 

She shook her head, “N-No, I want to do that with you. I’d like it very much.” 

So it became a daily occurrence, five days a week during lunch hours when Harry didn’t have practice, they’d sit in the library and Harry would pick out a book for them to read. They started with simple YA books with less complicated words. 

“Good job, Dove!” Harry cheered every time Y/N finished a chapter. 

“Wait I’m not done,” She huffed and then said the last line just for Harry to cheer for her again just as proudly as the first time. 

Now that the day of her presentation was getting closer, they had finally made their way onto Classical novels which Y/N had come to despise. 

They walked with their hands intertwined to the library after Y/N had bumped into him in the hallway. It was natural as they stepped into the library and headed straight to their table in the corner hidden away by two tall bookshelves. 

Y/N placed her bag under the chair whilst Harry unzipped his to pull out the book they were currently reading. It was Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte, even looking at the front cover made Y/N’s stomach turn. 

“A-Are you sure we can’t go back to YA books?” Y/N huffed, taking the book and opening it up to the chapter they were last on. 

Harry laughed, “But you’re doing so well, Dovey.” 

“I-it’s hard though and the w-words are so tiny.” She pouts, Harry can’t help but lean forward and kiss her. 

“C’mon, jus’ a few pages and then I can show y’ something I got for you.” He tried to persuade her, knowing the surprise would be enough to win her over.

“Fine,” She sighs dramatically. 

She read for five pages, Harry listening intently to every word. His eyes focused on her lips as she spoke, stumbling over a few words here and there. He tried to hold back from smiling so much with how concentrated she was on each letter of every word. He thought it was adorable how her eyebrows creased and her hands gripped the book. 

Eventually, she had enough, placing the book down on the table and closing it shut. “Good job baby!” He cheered, pressing multiple kisses to her cheek, “M so proud of you.” 

Y/N giggled, “Thank you, Harry.” 

Harry smiled and reached into the pocket of his blazer for the surprise he had promised her. Y/N looked down and saw a small, black pouch in his hand. He gave it to her, her fingers carefully pulling on the ribbon before pulling out the small item inside. 

“It’s an anxiety ring,” Harry explained as she held the silver ring in the palm of her hand. He picked it up and slid it on his pinkie finger to show her, “Y’ can twist this band whenever you feel nervous, thought y’ could wear it on the day of your speech.” 

He passed it back to her, Y/N narrowing her eyes to look at the spinning band which had a small inscription written on it, ‘i love the way you speak almost as much as i love you, your harry.’ 

Y/N’s eyes watered, unable to come up with the right words to say how much she adored it as well as the boy sitting in front of her. Instead, she leapt forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, “Thank you,” She murmured, “I love it. I love you.” 

Harry softened even more from her embrace, “I love you more, Dove,” He whispered. 

Y/N pulled away enough to kiss his lips, she was thankful for the privacy they had in the back of the library since she was never that good with public displays of affection and all she wanted to do now was kiss him because she was so grateful for him being there all the time. 

It wasn’t long before the day of her presentation. After school, Y/N had been working on a short essay. She was going to speak to the class about her favourite comic books and why she loved them so much. She had recited the words out loud to herself and Harry and even her parents, that she could probably speak it off by heart. 

Harry and Y/N stood outside the school. Her English class wasn’t until the third period but she knew she wouldn’t be able to concentrate in her morning classes until the presentation was over. Harry was wearing his football uniform because he had a game against another school in the morning. Y/N had been with him after school as he practised for it, wearing his coat as she wrote out her speech on a notepad. 

They stood side by side facing the school building as if it was some kind of beast they had to tackle, “O-okay,” She huffed, “I can do this,” 

Harry looked down at her smiling and then reached for her hand, “You can do this,” He squeezed her fingers in encouragement. 

“Good l-luck with your game today,” She grinned, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. 

“Thank you, baby,” He spoke softly, “Y’ can tell me all about your presentation and how well it went afterwards.”

“Okay Harry,” She nodded, completely determined despite how nervous she was. She had spent weeks preparing, she couldn’t let fear get the best of her. 

“Good luck kiss?” Harry grinned, cheekily. 

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes and craned her neck to kiss his lips. Harry held her face in his hands, unable to pull away from her even when she tried to, “I love you,” He murmured against her lips.

“I love you too.” She sighed, blissfully. 

When third period came around, Y/N stood outside her English classroom, counting to five in her head. She clutched onto the piece of paper where her speech was written out in gelled ink, spinning the ring Harry had gifted her on her finger. With a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped foot into her classroom. 

. . .

Harry could hardly concentrate during the football match but he was trying his best. His team were two points ahead and it wouldn’t be long before the game was over. Since it was the morning and the game was mostly practice for the two schools competing, there wasn’t a huge audience watching them. 

He was glancing down at his watch every few minutes when he was supposed to have his eye on the ball, checking to see whether third period was about to start. All he could think about was his little dove and how nervous she was when they stepped into school this morning. 

She had been working so hard on reading things out, even stopping in shops when they went to town together to read the labels on the backs of food containers. He fully believed in her and her ability to speak in front of the class even when she didn’t and it killed him not being able to watch her do it. 

So when the whistle finally blew marking the end of the game, Harry ignored the celebrations with his team after they won the match and ran across the field through the entrance of the school. He raced up the steps, his football boots clicking against the crowd. He knew he probably didn’t smell the best and his knees were muddy from falling over but he didn’t have much time to think about it as he searched for Y/N’s English classroom. 

“Y/N?” He heard the teacher’s voice call her name as he approached. 

“A-Already? O-Oh, O-okay.” He could hear her nerves just by listening to her speak. 

Harry was about to knock on the door but he hesitated, wondering if it would worsen her nerves if he was in the classroom watching her. He knew how much of a big deal this moment was for Y/N and he didn’t want to intervene or make a spectacle of the moment especially since he wasn’t in her class. 

He lowered his hand and instead pressed his ear up to the door. 

“H-Hello,” Y/N started, “My name is Y-Y/N and today I will be sharing with you m-my love for comic books,” Harry’s heart ached as her voice came out quietly. 

“C’mon Dove,” He whispered, wanting her to do well. 

Y/N cleared her throat and let out a shaky exhale, “A-As you can probably tell, I-I am not all that good at speaking. I s-stumble over letters and sometimes even have to replace words with o-others because my mouth t-turns into mash potato and I can’t seem to get t-the words out.” People chuckled and Harry’s heart began to beat against his chest, “T-That is why I love comic books so much because of the l-lack of words. Instead, there are pictures,” Y/N continued, her voice gaining strength the more that she spoke, “T-They tell stories without the need for p-perfect sentences or flawless speech.” 

Y/N continued her speech and Harry spent the entire presentation with his ear pressed up against the door. He ignored the looks of teachers and other students walking past as a huge grin spread across his cheeks the more Y/N spoke in front of the class. 

By the time she had finished, it fell silent before the class responded with a round of applause, “Brilliant work, Y/N,” Her teacher said. 

Y/N felt like she was floating on a cloud as she left her English classroom. Even if her speech wasn’t perfect, she had done it and gotten through it all in one piece. As she stepped out, two arms snaked around her waist and lifted her off the ground, “Harry!” Y/N giggled as he spun her around.

“M so proud of you, Dove.” He kissed her softly, lowering her to the ground but refusing to move his hands from her waist. 

“I-I can’t believe I did it, Harry!” Y/N almost squealed. 

“Heard every word, y’ did so good, M so proud of you.” He rambled, unable to cease his admiration for her. 

“You heard?” Y/N’s eyebrows creased, her lips pouting slightly. 

“I ran here as fast as I could and stood outside to listen to you,” Harry explained, “Y did perfect, honestly, the best speech I’ve ever heard.”

“You really ran h-here to listen?” Y/N asked, still in disbelief.

“I did,” Harry smiled, “It was all I could think about when I was on the field.”

“Did you win?” Y/N asked. 

Harry pulled her flush against him, “You already know I did baby,” He smirked, kissing her. Y/N smiled against his lips.

“Let’s go out tonight,” Harry murmured, “To celebrate.”

“And do w-what?” Y/N wondered, even though the idea of spending any time with Harry was always her favourite. 

“Maybe go to the bowling alley and get dinner after,” He shrugs.

“O-oh and maybe we can stop at the comic book store on the way home!” Y/N said, excitedly. 

“Course m’love,” Harry’s smile widened the more she spoke, “We can do whatever you want as long as I get to hear you talk.” 

Y/N grinned broadly as Harry interlaced his hands with hers, feeling the cool metal of her ring against his skin. Together, they walked hand in hand down the hallway, Y/N unable to stop talking the entire time, while Harry hung onto her every word.

[hana-no-seiiki]

Good news. Did some decent progress on What’s Up Danger so you guys will finally get fed this Wednesday! Bad news, the quality might not be the best since I’m fasting while writing it oTL

Anyways, here are some Batfam w/ Cat Villain! Reader moments/snippets.

TW YANDERE AND MENTION OF NONCON/SOMNO

Both Jason and Reader’s first words to each other were, “What the fuck.”

Reader referring to Jason being a giant, and violent asf esp in comparison to Dick. While Jason was confused at his heart beating so fast and mildly crushing on you while you were fighting.

Bonus points: You guys did the spiderman point meme.

You have the biggest age gap with Dick. I headcannon the boys to be close in age so there wouldn’t be any not so good implications when it comes to relationships, but it’s almost unavoidable unless Batman switches sidekicks every year or so. (You are younger than Jason but older than Tim)

But that is also another reason why you two didn’t click as well as you did with Jason

You’d often make jokes or use slang and Dick would just be “???” He tried his best though.

On the reverse side of things, and like I mention before Tim and you got along too well as friends. He’s one of the few people you could gush to about literally any fandom and he somehow (through stalking your searches and literally every gadget/appliance you owned) knew everything about it already.

You two have written several theses on fellow vigilantes and villains (mostly ‘dumb’ ones like who has the best cake based on so and so criteria)

Damian is the best when it comes to bantering with you mid-fight. It’s the combined years of sass and assassin training. Went from plain insults to whole ass (not so) subtly being horny when you beat each other down.

He’s also the worst (best?) when it comes to your nicknames. He insists that you two use it on each other. Some exclusive while others he’s usually fine hearing from other mouths.

There was one point in time where you were called Kitten while the boys forced/bribed you to call them Daddy

Tim and Jason have tattoos of you/related to you.

For Jason it’s your name with a few paw prints, and for Tim it’s when he first fought you (and got his ass whooped)

After Jason came back and revealed himself to you, he tattooed the scratch marks you left him on his back after doing the deed.

Damian secretly practices doing henna so he can draw on you during your “wedding” since he doesn’t want anyone touching you. Sort of defeats the purpose, but go off king.

Being the thorough guy he is, he uses lab equipment to make his own blends.

Bruce? Bruce hates your ass. Sometimes it’s in a hatefuckey way but most of the time he blames you for corrupting his kids.

So he corrupted you in turn.

I feel like he gets off to cucking them honestly (blame that one comic) but if Reader is AFAB I wouldn’t be surprised if he impregnated them.

He’s a softie at heart when it comes to you though, courtesy of your similarities with Selina.

Speaking of, Talia adores you.

Like if there was anyone she would want with her son it was you.

She thinks the fact that you haven’t been put behind bars is a testament to your skill, and after getting over your similarity to her “rival in love” she would actively get you to be with her son.

Eventually she realizes she loves you more than Bruce and well, that’s a story for another fic.

You have at least a dozen trackers on you at all times.

Most of them you’ve ingested and pooped out.

It’s mostly Tim of course. But the duty of actually feeding you that stuff usually goes to Dick.

Dick has uh- somnophillia’ed you a fair bit after the break up.

He really, and I mean really likes to watch you sleep.

It reminds him of those ‘catnaps’ you’d take while watching over the Titans.

There would be times where he’d just be in a daze/in autopilot for hours reminiscing about your past together

His favorite memories to go back to were your first fight together, first kiss, and times under the sheets, and a date you guys had before in a festival/circus.

He never takes the antidote for Poison Ivy’s sex pollen and always comes to you for it, regardless of his or your relationship status.

Tim has at least a million typewritten chats with AI you, and around a few hundred hours of voice chats.

You did eventually take his virginity.

He came as soon as he was inside you/you were inside him.

You have been offered to be a part of the bat crew or a vigilante. But,

you massacred many after Jason’s supposed death and feel too guilty to call yourself anything other than a villain.

Chokers with bells. It’s a popular gift to give you. Especially ones that are custom made with expensive ass materials and engraving.

Sometimes Tim just gives you weapons.

Alfred is your best source of blackmail material.

You’ve actively tried cursing him (with immortality). You love the man.

He’s secretly the president of your official fanclub/fansite but you didn’t hear that from me.

You fight a lot with Damian’s pets. Like in a way that you turn into a literal cat and hiss at them.

And last but not least, you’re vv close with every member of the Teen Titans (besties with Rachel and Garfield)

NOT PROOFREAD!!!

@sophiethewitch1

[pickingupmymercedes]

Hey love. Can I request “you’re blurring your words together, time for bed.” but drunk Lewis? Thank you ❤️🥰

Hi lovely. That was a fun writing, hope you like it too.

I can only imagine how much of lightweight he must be now that he doesn't drink alcohol anymore.

You’re blurring your words together, time for bed.

The last of Lewis' birthday cake sat untouched in the center of the table, surrounded by the remnants of a celebratory feast. The laughter that had filled his London home earlier had died down, most of his friends and family having already departed.

Lewis' 40th unofficial birthday dinner, with a few close friends and family at his London home, was winding down. The air thick with the warmth of good food, good company, and perhaps a little too much wine. Specially for a certain birthday boy who had had almost to no alcohol for a couple of years.

Y/N watched him, a smile playing on her lips. He was amusing his dad, his words slurred but his enthusiasm undimmed, about a particularly daring overtaking maneuver from way back in the day. Anthony, chuckling and nodding along as he held that proud gaze at the man he had raised.

Lewis caught Y/N's eye at his side and winked, a mischievous glint sparkling in his usually sharp gaze. He swayed slightly in his chair, prompting Y/N to push a glass of water towards him. "Easy there, champ" she teased.

"Am a big boy you know?! Forty, to be exact" Lewis slurred, leaning back in his chair, a goofy grin plastered on his face. "Bloody hell, never thought I'd see the day."

Carmen shot him a worried look. "Are you really alright, dear?"

"Peachy, mum!" Lewis declared, throwing an arm around Y/N, nearly knocking her off balance. "Never been better! Forty years of pure…" he trailed off, his brow furrowing in concentration.

"Well," Lewis began, his voice dropping to a thoughtful and vague tone, "I never thought I'd still be racing at forty. Thought I'd be, like, retired, settled down…”

Lewis' gaze drifted to Y/n, he cleared his throat, a playful glint still lingering in his eyes.

"Maybe a few mini-Hamiltons," he stated before his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "though let's be honest, the pre-mini-Hamilton training has been… well, let's just say it's definitely kept me in top shape."

Y/N's eyes widened but she couldn’t help but laugh. The absurdity of his words making his step-mom look like a tomato, while his dad, bless him, seemed to be trying to decide between burying his head in his hands or bursting into laughter.

"Alright, birthday boy," she said, her voice firm but laced with amusement, "You're blurring your words together. Time for bed."

Lewis blinked at her, his expression a comical mix of confusion and indignation. "But…" he started, then looked around the table, finally settling on his wide-eyed nephew who was trying very hard to look anywhere but at them.

"Right." Lewis mumbled, a sheepish grin replacing the earlier defiance. "Sorry, everyone" he continued, his voice a little louder now. "Seems it really is time for bed for me. See you all tomorrow"

His friends erupted in laughter; the tension broken. Y/N couldn't help but nudge him playfully on the arm. This was Lewis, birthday drunk or not: a goofball with a heart of gold.

In bed, Lewis propped up on pillows in bed, was still musing aloud. "Sorry about that," he mumbled, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "Didn't mean to…you know."

Y/N chuckled. "Don't worry about it. It’s not like they think we’re celibate" she teased, leaning in to kiss him softly. "Now, come on, Mr. Blurred Words, it's definitely bedtime."

Lewis wrapped his arms around her, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "You know," he said, "maybe forty isn't so bad after all. Got everything I ever wanted, right here." He reached for her hand, his fingers tracing idle patterns on her skin. " I'm glad I waited all these years though. Glad I didn't settle for just anyone."

Y/N squeezed his hand, her heart overflowing with love. "I’m glad too" she whispered. "I love you, old man"

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf @priopp123 @jajouska

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[genericpuff]

i find it funny that one of rachel’s drawings of herself in the afterword that just went up is just fully persephone. is that something she does a lot?

Alright so I've been making it a general rule for myself to like, not harp on Rachel in any way outside of LO as much because frankly the horse is dead now and there's not much left to say outside of what can be analyzed in hindsight. I think despite everything I have to say about her and her work, she still deserves to get away from this nonsense and I don't wanna spend eternity hovering over her shoulder.

But the afterword was posted within the LO series and is clearly meant for readers of LO in the functioning of being an afterword so let's just call it fair game LOL

I will say, on the whole, it does feel very honest and sentimental and I can respect Rachel for taking the time to write out and illustrate her afterword in a way that was personal to both her and her fans. I can understand why she went at it from the angle that she did and I'm not gonna fault her for that.

But there's also something that feels deeply... disingenuous about her approach right from the starting gun. I will say, before I continue, that I'm well aware I am biased towards Rachel as a creator, and I fully acknowledge that I could very well be reading too much into things. This is just my opinion, take it with mountains of salt.

I can get looking back on your own childhood, your past self, whatever, and going "see! it all got better!" because sure! For a lot of creators like Rachel, it must be wild to look back on where they came from and there's a lot of sentimentality on expressing that through an afterword like this where she reflects on where she came from. Though she STILL didn't acknowledge her other comics outside of LO, I can understand if she wants to leave those skeletons in the closet.

But I feel like her drawing herself as a child who's being given an Eisner by her adult self and all that just feels like some gross attempt to disarm any criticism of her because "don't make fun of me, I'm just a sad lonely baby girl!"

She's not a child. Child Rachel didn't grossly misappropriate Greek myth into their own self-indulged vanity project. Child Rachel didn't claim herself a folklorist of a culture's works only to bastardize them completely. Child Rachel didn't create a hostile environment within her fanbase by bullying anyone who she perceived as a threat, sneaking into critical spaces to try and cause trouble, and writing her own clapbacks into her comic. Child Rachel didn't claim to be challenging misogyny and purity culture only to reinforce misogyny and purity culture through her own self-insert baby-virgin-gets-rescued-by-rich-tycoon power fantasy that regularly glorified abuse towards women and the lower class.

30-almost-40-year-old Rachel did though.

At best it comes across as really cringe sentimentality from a Greek-weeb (heh, greeboo) and goes to show how much Rachel inserted herself into Greek myth without ever absorbing its messages or cultural contexts, it was all about her and her feelings as a sad New Zealand girl with dyslexia who thought Persephone's story was about another sad girl being rescued from her "horrible childhood".

At worst it's an active attempt to play on people's heartstrings by drawing herself as a child who people will naturally not want to criticize. I don't want to assume she's doing it intentionally, I really don't want to leave her afterword on a bad foot, as I can definitely understand as both a creator and a person who struggled with learning disabilities in their own childhood how and why she wants to pay homage to her past and where she came from... but let's just say, as someone who's also gotten way too "lost in the sauce" concerning personal self-reflective projects, I think there's a lot to say about how this confirms that Rachel made LO entirely for herself, about herself, without any actual intention to respect the original myths, because she never truly separated them from herself when she was a child. And, in my humble opinion as someone who has Been There with the self-insert OC's and self-reflective angsty plotlines, I can fully attest to the fact that that's not fucking healthy. Even with personal projects, you NEED to learn to get your head out of the sauce, you NEED to learn to objectively separate yourself from the narrative so the story doesn't fall apart under your own hubris and ego, you NEED to learn to draw a line if you want to have any sort of identity as a human being outside of what you make for people. And that's with just normal original stories, this was a story based on Greek myth which doesn't belong to her.

And this goes for a lot of the things she's said and done in the past, so much of her own "sources" even are tethered to things that she read / watched in her childhood and only vaguely remembers, as if she never mentally left her childhood at all, which just... if the point was to highlight her past and the traumas she went through and how they contributed to her present, an Eisner isn't going to validate those experiences. And drawing attention to her past through the lens of her childhood self absolutely 100% does not absolve her of the negative effect her work has had on the modern Greek myth zeitgeist nor the things she's said and done as a 38 year old woman who should absolutely know better.

The community she entered and took from will forever remain changed by her influence and taking, in many ways not for the better. She has the privilege of walking away and never having to think about it again, with all the awards and accolades that were bought for her, the bravado that she built around being a "folklorist" with zero credentials, and the platform she was given over many other creators struggling to even be heard.

That "place" she claims to have now was built entirely on inserting herself into another culture's works and doing nothing but taking, taking, taking, while offering nothing in return but vanity and lip service. That "place" was paid for and brought to you by Webtoons.

[tonixe]

I saw you were looking for The Boys requests. Please I beg of you ANYTHING between Firecracker and reader. She’s so beautiful and I need to be with her so bad! Literally anything you want to write. It’s just that NO ONE has written for her!!

♱ — country girl — ♱

A/N: Thank you for ur request, I also agree, nobody is writing about Firecracker, our country girl needs some love <3.

WARNING: cursing, tw: abortion, firecracker as a person, tw: tek knight, this might be crackfic sorry.

PAIRING: firecracker x reader

WORD COUNTER: 974

It was so boring at the Tek's Knight party, you were mindlessly taking glasses of alcohol served on a platter to guests that attended, mostly the room filled with important, rich, people of America.

Like you want to be here with these superficial assholes and fucking racists, you had better thing than to be here in this party but you were forced to attend. Most of the members of the seven were here, including you. Here you are, in a party filled with old people who controlled the country, you looked up at the seemingly staring Tek Knight portrait that was on display, "Creepy" You muttered, before you gulped down the content in the glass, swiftly placing it on the waltzing waiter passing by.

It was going to be a while till you were able to leave the party. It was an event where people were the best dressed and for you, the best dress was your costume, shut up and stay still while people talked to you, talking about nonsense and political matters you didn't care about.

You just nodded with a smile.

Tap your fingers on your glasses, looking for anything that can occupy your time. It wasn't the worst, free high-quality alcohol was being served, and interesting-looking food was being served around the party. You looked around the room of guests, and your eyes quickly landed on Homelander, Sage, and Neuman. You quirked your eyebrows at the scene, before taking a sip of the champagne in your glass.

"Hm," You exhaled, swirling the liquid in your glass. The sound of heels clicking on the floor took your attention. You looked up from your cup to see Firecracker walking by you, you didn't get to know a lot about her only to know that she was involved in pageants, hate Starfire maybe a pedophile. You kept your eye on her with amusement as she walked toward the group of supes.

You were way too curious about how the interaction was going to play out, especially with her introduction, it was almost comical.

Everyone in the group just stared at her awkwardly, it was all truly funny and made you laugh a bit. Then Sage dismissed her straight, I guessed it was something snarky towards her. You watched her as walked away quickly, it looked like she was upset about what Sage said. "Trailer trash, huh?" You gulped down your maybe 10th glass of the night and placed it on the walking waiter's tray before you strode to the dessert table.

You recognize the greeting butler of the house taking the cake. “Hey, are you going to take that?" You asked the butler holding the chocolate cake in his hand. "Yes, Miss H/N" He stated, “Would you like a slice?” He questioned, “No, actually I’ll take the whole cake” You shot him a smile, grabbing the cake from him. “Thanks for being such an American patriot” you exclaimed before you walked out to follow Firecracker.

You stepped out of the room where the party guests were. You followed Firecracker, you wanted to keep your steps as silent as possible maybe to surprise her a bit, maybe this was a bit creepy, a little at least. You hid behind one of the white columns, hearing the door behind her close with a 'click' sound.

You stepped out into the hallway, with the cake in hand. You paused for a moment when you reached the door. Before putting your ear near the door to hear sniffing coming from her you backed away. You hesitated to knock, so you just waited on the side of the door until she opened up.

Propping yourself up on the wall, it was a couple of minutes until she opened the door. It was evident she was crying with her tear-stained cheek and the reddening of her irises. Bounced off the wall, "God were you crying, you look like shit" You said bluntly, her brows furrowed when she heard the comment escaping you.

"Shit, my bad, cake?" You prominently offered the cake to her, she looked at it and then at you, "Is this a joke?" She said with her strong accent shining through as she spoke.

Narrowed her eyes at you.

"No, actually this was from the good of my heart, I saw the exchange between you and you know sage?' You said you heard her groan as you talked.

"So, are you going to tell me to drink Everclear or SunnyD" She exclaimed.

"Of course not, I was going to tell you to drink some Dr. Pepper and Jack Daniel" You grin at her smugly,

She furrowed her brows more, you got her pissed, "Jokes" You put up your free hand defensively, "But seriously, I saw you upset and what better way to calm down than with cake, especially chocolate cake" You grinned pointing at the chocolate cake in your hands.

"What in god green earth would make you think I would eat cake with you" She crossed her arms, "Geez if you put it that way...I just wanted to support a friend in need, since you are part of the seven, you know..so cake?" You offered her again before she looked at you and the cake.

"Fine"

..

"You know Sage is like a slithering snake, I just should known" Firecracker grumbled, taking a spoonful of cake and shoving it in her mouth, you hummed in agreement.

"The whole thing with the show and live cast with the starlight bullshit, should of fucking know" Firecracker finished,

"How did you...I mean she even gets information about Starlight abortion?" You asked, stabbing your fork in a piece of cake, Firecracker just shrugged it off, "I mean you took those punches like a champ" You said bluntly, Firecracker glared at you.

"Hey Y/N" You turned towards her,

"What?"

"Fuck you"

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 11, Unsure - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Mentions of sexual situations, pettiness.

Word Count: 3k

Previously On...: You've been pulling away from Bucky as he's been spending more time with Jade. But now, on the eve of her first mission, you realize that you want to fight for him and your relationship. Gino's is just the place.

A/N: So, I have this thing where, I'll write the angst, but then I'm like "no, I want you to be happy!" and then I'll write something like this, which is only just a band aid on their relationship for more angst to come. Sorry :( But, also, relationships and emotions aren't linear. We might know things aren't going well, but if we see even a hint of improvement, we latch onto it in the hope that it means things are getting better, even if it's just a temporary blip. We're optimistic beasts.

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @crist1216 @vicmc624 @sashaisready @j23r23 @wintercrows

About forty minutes later, you walked into Gino’s looking like sin on legs. You’d made up your mind that you were going to stake your claim on your boyfriend tonight, in front of Jade and the entire team, but especially Bucky, once and for all. You were a little dizzy from the emotional whiplash you’d been putting yourself through of late, but you’d realized he was worth the chance of being hurt, and you loved him too much to not fight tooth and nail for him, and you would do so, until he told you himself that he didn’t want you anymore.

You’d chosen a pair of skin tight black leather pants that sat low on your hips and a sheer golden top with a matching satin cami underneath it. You’d left your bra at home. A pair of high, strappy gold stiletto heels completed the look, and with your hair flowing loose and curly down your back, you caught the attention of every man within line of sight as you made your way to the back of the bar.

“Jesus Christ, Pocket,” Nat said once you reached the tables at the back that your team usually secured for themselves. The redhead pulled you in for a hug, whispering in your ear as she did so: “Barnes isn’t going to be able to control himself when he sees you.”

“That’s the idea, Natty,” you said with a grin, taking the shot she offered you and throwing it back. “I’m playing for keeps tonight.”

Your friend smiled at you and motioned toward the jukebox. “Then I say ‘batter up’ because opposing teams’ already taken the field.”

You glanced in the direction she’d indicated and narrowed your eyes. Jade was dancing with Bucky. Or, at least, she was trying to dance with him. It was almost comical, really, the way she tried to grind up against him, yet he kept trying to put space between their bodies as he shuffled awkwardly from side to side. Your heart softened as you watched him resist her. He was being polite about it– of course he was, he was Bucky, after all, but his resistance was firm.

“I better go save him,” you told Nat as you put down the shot glass. “I’ll see you later.” You sauntered over to the makeshift dance floor, putting some extra sway in your hips as you did so. 

“Mind if I cut in?” you asked, your voice extra sultry. Not even waiting for a response, you positioned your body between Jade and Bucky’s, and were immediately rewarded with the feeling of his hands gripping your waist as he tugged you to him. 

“God damn, doll,” Bucky said as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his, “how’d you expect me to behave myself all night when you’re standin’ there lookin’ good enough to fuckin’ eat?”

You grinned up at him, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I don’t expect you to behave at all, Sergeant,” you purred. “In fact, I’m quite hoping you won’t.”

Bucky’s eyes visibly darkened at your words, and he took his bottom lip seductively between his teeth. You were both leaning in for a kiss when you felt an impatient tap on your shoulder. You knew without turning who it was going to be. 

With a roll of your eyes, you turned your head just enough to see Jade standing next to you, arms crossed over her chest, the anger on her face making her uglier than you’d ever seen her.

“Um, hello? Rude much? We were dancing.”

“Is that what that was?” you asked, turning so you had your back to Bucky’s front. You could feel the hard length of him pressed against your ass as you ground into him in time with the music. Taking his hands, you slid them under the fabric of your shirt so he could caress your bare skin. His rough fingers felt like heaven as they moved up and down the planes of your abdomen, dancing scandalously close to the underside of your breasts. You felt Bucky’s breath hitch when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra.

“If you’re that mad, why don’t you go live stream about it?” you said. “The adults are busy.”

“Bucky!” Jade whined, turning to him. “Are you going to just let her talk to me that way?!”

Your heart seemed to still, and it felt like time stopped while you waited on Bucky’s response, though in actuality, he answered her almost instantly: “You heard my girl, Vix. We’re busy.”

You closed your eyes, leaning your head back against him. His dismissal of her was like an aphrodisiac that sent wetness pooling into your panties. The sexiest thing you’d ever heard. With this new access to the exposed side of your neck, Bucky began to place wet, open mouthed kisses along your skin. God, you hoped he left marks. You wanted him to claim you, to let the world know you were his. You moaned his name as you reached your arm up to hold the side of his head, urging him to use more pressure and were rewarded almost immediately when you felt the sweet sting of his teeth as he nipped at the sensitive flesh of your skin, followed by the instant soothing sensation of his tongue against the love bites.

You heard Jade scoff, but didn’t open your eyes to see if she walked away or remained; you were too absorbed in the sensation of Bucky all around you for her to matter. You lost yourself in the feel of him, no concept of how much time went by as the two of you moved together to the beat of the music.

He eventually turned you around so you were facing each other once again. You tried to slide your hands up under the hem of his shirt, to feel the firmness of him, but gave an exaggerated pout when you were met with the resistance of it being tucked into the waistband of his jeans. 

“You tryin’ to undress me right here, sweets?” he asked, giving you a playful grin.

“Don’t give me any ideas, Buckaroo,” you hummed, opting instead to grab two generous handfuls of his ass. You were going to sink your teeth into that later.

“You know,” he said, leaning in close to speak directly into your ear, “I’ve been thinking: now that Vix’s gonna be out on missions, my schedule’s gonna clear up a lot. Maybe we should take that trip we talked about. Spend some time alone, just the two of us, like we used to. I miss you.”

Your face fell. You’d love nothing more than to reconnect with Bucky, away from all outside influences, but with the upcoming presentation of the crisis algorithm system looming before you, the timing couldn’t be any worse. “I can’t, Buck,” you told him sadly.

He pulled back, away from you, a new, hard glint to his eye. “Can’t,” he asked, “or won’t?”

“Come on, Buck,” you pleaded, trying to put his arms back around you, but he refused, stepping further away, “we were having a great time; I don’t want to fight.”

“Were we having a great time, Pocket?” he asked, his teeth now clenched. “I may be old, but I’m not stupid. I know you’re pulling away from me.”

You sighed. It seems like you were going to have this out right here in the bar. “Come with me,” you said, taking his hand and leading him toward the bathrooms.

As you passed the rest of your team, an obviously inebriated Sam raised his beer glass and winked at you both. “Yeah, get it, Tin Man!” he shouted, completely misconstruing the purpose of your journey to the bathroom as Bucky flipped him off. “Didn’t realize you liked it that dirty, Baby Girl!” You rolled your eyes, ignoring him as you made your way to the men’s bathroom. Checking to make sure each stall and urinal was empty, you locked the door behind you.

Bucky raised a brow at your choice of gendered bathroom. “What?” you shrugged. “Figure dudes’ll be more than willing to have pissing contests in the alley if they can’t get in here.”

You could see him struggle to fight the smile that threatened to cross his otherwise annoyed features. You always did know how to make him laugh.

“I’m not going to have sex with you,” he said, sounding petulant. 

“For once, that’s not why I dragged you into a bathroom,” you said, hoisting yourself up onto the sink counter once you’d checked it to make sure it was free from… well, whatever one might find in a men’s restroom. “I want to talk. Come here.” You beckoned him over with a crook of your finger, and like a fish on a hook, he crossed the room until he was standing in front of you.

You sighed. You didn’t want to do this now, but you were tired of lying to him, lying to yourself. You wanted your relationship back, and now was just as good a time as any to set things straight. “I wanna start by saying that the reason I can’t go away on vacation with you right now,” you said, making sure to emphasize the words, “is that I’m presenting to the Stark Industries Board of Directors in less than two weeks. I still have a lot to do to get ready.

Bucky tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. “For your crisis prediction algorithm?” You nodded. Bucky’s eyes widened, impressed. “Doll, that’s amazing! But… I thought you said it was nowhere near being ready for demonstration?”

You swallowed. “We’ve been beta testing for awhile now,” you said, not meeting his eye. Normally, Bucky was obsessed with your work, keeping track of every fascinating detail, but with Jade monopolizing so much of his time recently, he’d stopped asking how things with your pet project were coming along. But you didn’t bring him here to make him feel bad. 

“I haven’t been paying enough attention to you,” he said softly. He reached out and held your face, tilting your head up so you would look at him. 

You shrugged your shoulders. “You’ve been busy,” you told him.

“I’ve been an ass,” he said. He took a deep sigh before coming closer, wrapping you to him. “I keep being an ass, and I keep hurting you, when I swore I never would.”

“I know you don’t mean to,” you reassured him. “But, you were right… I have been… pulling away.”

Bucky backed up to study you, his face gone white with worry. “Are you… Do you… Have I fucked this up completely? Do you not want me anymore?” If you had been standing, the desperation in his voice would have brought you to your knees.

“Baby, no!” you exclaimed, pulling his hand to your chest. “I did it because I was scared. I’m so scared I’m going to get my heart broken in all of this that I started putting my walls back up. I thought that, if I could act like your friendship with Jade didn’t bother me, didn’t drive me crazy with jealousy, then maybe I would eventually believe it. But all it ended up doing was push me away from you, and that’s not what I want. I want to fight for you. Fight for us.”

“Is that what this is, then?” he asked, indicating your outfit, hair, and makeup. “Is this some kind of offensive strategy in your battle against Vix where I’m, what– a prize?” He seemed… disgusted by the idea.

“No!” The word was out of your mouth before you even had a chance to think. “Not at all. I did all this because I wanted to look good for you. I know I’m never going to compete with her in terms of sexiness; I wouldn’t even try.”

“Huh,” said Bucky, running his hand through your hair. “And all this time I thought you were the smart one.” When you looked at him in confusion, he added: “Because that was the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Doll, when it comes to sexy, she doesn’t hold a candle to you. No one does.”

“Pfft,” you scoffed, turning your face away from him in embarrassment as color stained your cheeks. “You have to say that because you’re my boyfriend.”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky took a step closer to you, “I have to be your boyfriend because that’s how I feel. If this,” he took your hand in his and placed it over the hard bulge of his erection, “doesn’t prove that to you, I don’t know what will.”

You took a moment to palm him through his jeans, remembering back to a time when you relished the effect you had over him, not doubting it. “Are we good?” you whispered. 

“We are very, very good,” he said, leaning down to kiss you. You gripped onto the front of his shirt, slipping your tongue into his mouth. When he moaned into your lips, you felt yourself clench around nothing.

“Bucky,” you gasped, coming back up for air.

“Yeah, doll?” His eyes were blown, expression delirious with his lust for you. It was intoxicating. 

“You still opposed to bathroom sex?”

Bucky threw his head back and laughed, igniting even more desire within you. “I’m not, but I’d rather take you home, lay you out naked on our bed, all open and pretty for me. Let you be as loud as you want when I make you scream my name.”

Your entire body shivered at the picture his words painted, and you nodded stupidly. “Yeah,” you said, swallowing thickly , “yeah, that sounds way better. Let’s go do that.”

Bucky picked you up from the counter and gently placed you back on the floor. Putting his hand protectively on the small of your back, he led you to the door, unlocking it and walking you back into the bar.

When you made your way back to your group’s designated tables, you were surprised to find everyone staring at you in anticipation. Tony stood in the center of the group, a wide smile on his face as he raised his arms wide open, tumbler of alcohol in his hand. “Pocket, Barnes!” he cried when he saw you emerge from the hallway leading to the restrooms. “The people demand to know! ‘What the ‘F’ Was It’?”

You buried your face into Bucky’s side to hide your laughter. Once again, your sex life had become the topic of group conversation. When had this become your normal?

“I think the ‘fucks’ have it!” Tony declared after taking in your smudged lipstick and messy hair. You watched in mock horror as Nat and Sam gave each other a double high five.

“Why do we put up with this?” you muttered to Bucky.

“Stark’s superior insurance coverage?” he suggested with a grin. You smirked back up at him before turning back to your friends.

“Sorry to disappoint, again,” you said, raising your voice to be heard over the din of the bar. “We did neither fucking nor fighting, so…” You shrugged your shoulders.

“Don’t tell me I missed out by not going with frottage again,” Nat moaned dejectedly. You laughed as you shook your head. 

“Very well,” said Thor. “It was not fornication, nor this frottage, nor fighting– sorry, little Fox Girl.” You raised an eyebrow as your gaze found Jade, who looked particularly put out, much to your amusement. “Let us guess!”

Your friends began shouting out answers, and they ranged from the vulgar (“‘Finger banging’!” “Oh my God, Tony! Gross!”) to the inappropriate (“‘Fertilization,’ you know, like puttin’ a baby in her!” “Clint, how’s he gonna do that without ‘fucking’?!”) to the perfectly tame (“‘Fraternization.’” “Boo, Rogers; you’re no fun!”) to, thankfully, nothing at all (“I hate this game.” “Nobody asked you, Rhodes!”).

“Frenchin’!” Bucky shouted after a moment with a snap of his fingers. Everyone turned and stared at him like he’d just grown a second head. “What?” he asked as a blush crept up his cheeks. “We talked, then we made out. Just took me a minute to think of ‘French kissin’, is all,” he finished in a mumble. 

“And with that,” you said, walking over to the booth where Bucky had stashed his two motorcycle helmets, “we are going home. Make of that whatever the ‘F’ you will.” Tony positively cackled at that.

“That’s my girl!” he gasped, clutching his sides. 

You didn’t even try to suppress your grin as you tossed one of the helmets to Bucky. Tucking the other one under your arm, you made your way over to him. “Ready to go, soldier?” you asked.

“With you?” he said, putting a hand around your waist and giving you a mischievous wink. “Always.”

Before you could even make it three steps toward the door, your path was blocked by Jade, who stood before you, chest heaving and fists clenched at her sides. “Hey,” she said, clearly upset, “what about me?!”

You took a step back, curious to see how Bucky was going to handle the situation.

He sighed heavily. “What about you, Vix?”

“You drove me here! How am I supposed to get home if you’re driving her?”

“Stark hired cars,” he told her, trying to steer you both around her, but the girl wouldn’t give up her ground. “Get a ride with everyone else.”

“But I wanna ride back with you,” she said, her voice a desperate whine that made you cringe internally. God, how had you been so jealous of someone who acted like such a child?

He just shrugged in her general direction as he finally guided you both around her. “Sorry, Vix; not this time.”

You couldn’t resist turning around to give her a parting smile as you walked out the door. When you turned around to follow Bucky, though, you could feel Jade’s stare boring a hole through your back.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[ramirezmindset]

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭?

*+:｡.｡　mickey garcia x reader　｡.｡:+*

→ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: you've been married to mickey for nearly three years now, but things can only stay secret for so long, especially when a certain Jake discovers you two on a coffee date...

→ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: adult language, but mainly fluff and a few sexual innuendos (no smut) :P definite naval inaccuracies, mickey and y/n are both around twenty-eight years old during this. ↳ wc: 3050

→ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: first post on this blog also first time writing in maybe 4 (??) years eeeek!!! hope it lives up to the hype, feelin funky fresh - requests are open!

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seven years ago

You were a fresh spring chicken. A graduate, an adult, a taxpayer, looking on towards the horizon at your fresh and gleaming new life, the excitement was palpable. You and your best girlfriend, Cara, had moved into your new San Diego apartment a mere seven months ago, both of you having job offers out the door. Maybe being grown up wasn't so bad.

There was one thing missing from your life, you thought, as you looked out the window of the café you and Cara settled on for coffee. You didn't have anyone.

"Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?" Cara exclaimed, a slight smirk on her face. You didn't realise you said that out loud. She knew exactly what you meant by 'anyone', she just loved to tease you. You rolled your eyes at her and chuckled.

"C, you know exactly what I mean. You have Sophie, who, by the way, might as well start paying rent considering she's at our apartment every. Single. Night." Now it was Cara's turn to roll her eyes.

You had always been the shy guy out of your friends, much preferring comics and solo nights in to crazy nights on the trot. It's not that you were against an alcohol fuelled 'gals about the town' evening with all your best friends, but nothing beat the comfort of laying on the couch doing absolutely nothing all by yourself.

And you complain you don't have anyone. The hypocrisy is almost laughable as you take a sip of your coffee. You were just never the type to attract anyone, it's not that you were bad looking, or lacked the social skills to keep someone engaged in conversation, it's just that you never liked the people who approached you. They were always too this, or too that, and despite all of your friends telling you that "his favourite spiderman suit will not affect the sex", you just couldn't do it.

"Yeah, about that" Cara trailed off, running the tip of her finger over the rim of her mug. "Sophie and I have been together for a while now..."

"Six months, three weeks, and five days" You replied, closing your eyes in disbelief at the fact you even know that let alone said it out loud.

"Yes, however long that is" Cara waved her hand at you. "Anyway, Sophie mentioned that her and I get our own place together." She squinted her eyes at you, trying to gage how you were feeling, but you stayed silent, lips pursed.

"Ok" You sighed. "I don't blame you. Do it!"

"Really? You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?" You giggled before reaching across the table to hold her hand. "You're my best friend, and I'm so glad that you and Sophie found each other, and I want you to go and be happy and live life and have sex and not have to worry about waking me up 'cos the walls in our apartment are so thin!"

Cara chuckled and shook her head. "Yeah, that is a perk, actually. But now, you'll have an empty apartment, go rent the spare room out to a hot guy or bring someone home and fuck them as loud as you want and-" Her jaw falls slack. "Don't look now, but look now, is that not the most delicious man you've ever seen!"

You turn your head to look in the same direction as her, and sure enough, the most attractive man you've ever seen in your life is approaching the barista just a mere few metres away from you.

"Holy shit" slips off your tongue before you can even think, and you can't stop yourself from staring at him.

He was standing there, looking around nervously, his hands thrust into the pockets of his loose-fitting jeans. A mop of inky curls sat upon his head, just leaving his chocolate brown eyes in your view as they darted around the room. His T-Shirt hugged his biceps almost too well, as if it was made for him, and you could feel your mouth practically watering at the sight of him.

"Cara, kill me right now. Just fucking kill me immediately" You pulled your eyes away from him to see Cara sinking into her chair, her hand covering her mouth as she was nearly crying from laughter. "What is so funny?"

"Nothing, I've just- I've never seen you like this before" She takes a deep breath and rubs her eyes. "Go talk to him! If you don't fuck him, I will, and I'm gay!"

"No! Cara, no, I can barely talk to ugly guys, and he is-" You close your eyes and swallow. "And he is actually raw sex appeal"

Before you know it, Cara is kicking your shins underneath the table, using her feet to twist your knees to the side and practically force you to stand up.

"At least go order another drink whilst he's there! Just smell him, I know you want to!" She laughs as you nervously approach the space at the register next to him.

He makes eye contact with you as you walk past, whipping his head to follow your body as you make your way to the counter. You're internally cursing yourself for wearing a stupid Spiderman sweater for coffee, I look like such a freak, you think.

"1984, Secret Wars" someone says from beside you. You whip your head towards him, eyes wide and confused. "Your sweater. The first black Spiderman suit, 1984, Secret Wars" He smiles awkwardly.

"How did you-" You shake your head. "Yeah, yeah it is" You glance over his shoulder at Cara, who is sat there with her mouth agape at your absolutely horrendous attempt at chat. "Um, it's nice to meet someone who knows this stuff. I felt like a total dork in this sweater five seconds ago"

"You shouldn't" He grins at you, a big, gleaming, shit-eating grin. "I love Spiderman, and I think you're cute as fuck" His hand instinctively comes up to nervously scratch at the back of his neck as a blush rises up your face.

"Thank you" You say, grabbing the coffee you forgot you even ordered because you were too busy tripping over your thoughts when you walked over. "I'm Y/N, by the way"

"Mickey" He replies. "I'm Mickey, and I'd love to take you out"

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present day

It had been seven years to the day since you first met Mickey in the café in San Diego, and here you were, in the exact same spot, with the exact same man, ordering the exact same coffee's, except this time with rings adorning your fingers.

The last seven years had been a whirlwind, Cara did end up finding her own place with Sophie, the two of which were still together, and you did end up bringing a hot guy home and fucking him as loud as you wanted to, just as she said on that fateful day, and instead of renting out Cara's old room, you invited Mickey into yours, turning the now empty second bedroom into your comic shrine just two months after your first meeting.

It turns out, yourself and Mickey had more in common than you could've ever imagined, and for the first time in your life, you didn't feel like a total misfit. When you learnt he was a naval aviator, it was a surprise, but something you were willing to work with, there was no way in hell you were going to let a guy this perfect slip from your grasp. Plus, you knew it would all work itself out in the end, evident in the fact he's now working in the city you both live.

You look down at the wedding bands sitting delicately on your finger, thinking about the life you've shared with Mickey, the love, the laughter.

"Cara, I don't think I'm ready for this" Your maid of honour fanned your face with her hand, her eyebrows furrowed together as you paced around the bridal suite of the beautiful wedding venue.

"Pull yourself together, for Christ's sake!" She replied through gritted teeth, grabbing your shoulder's and twisting you round to look at her. "It is your wedding day! I'm the one that's meant to be stressed out, I practically planned this whole thing. You're walking down that aisle, I will drag you down it by your hair if I have to!"

You closed your eyes, Cara's grip on your shoulders feeling like a tonne. Slowly, you sink to sit down on the floor, probably crumpling the skirt of your perfectly steamed white gown.

"I just-" you sigh "What if he runs? What if he realises I'm not what he wants?"

"Are you crazy?" Cara joins you on the floor, holding your clammy hand in hers. "He's probably just as nervous as you are, and I know that sounds bad considering what just came out your mouth, but that man loves you. He practically kisses the ground you walk on!" You let out a small chuckle at this, you know she's right.

"I'm serious!" Your friend continues. "For the last three years, that man has been hellbent on making you smile. He's like a man possessed, he has been ever since he saw you wearing that horrible Spiderman sweater in the café!"

That part was true. Almost immediately after Cara overheard Mickey say he'd loved to take you out, she stalked over, blurting out a quick "she's free tonight!" before grabbing the coffee out your hand and scuttling out the door.

"That works perfect" Mickey blushed shyly. "If you'll let me?" You remember blushing, and bashfully nodding. You were all jelly legs and a puddle of nerves when your doorbell rang at seven on the dot, looking up to see Mickey's vague silhouette through the fogged window of your front door. Since that day, he's never left your side. You've never opened a car door for yourself, never refilled your own water bottle at night, never spent a dime on a pair of shoes, because, no matter what, he's always two steps ahead, reading you like a book.

"Now come on" Cara said, heaving you up and smoothing out the tulle of your dress. "Let's go get you a husband!"

You were enjoying the peace and quiet of the café, hearing the nearby waves crash and fall through the open windows, and the delicious smell of pastries and espresso wafting around the room, the feeling of your husbands protective arm around your shoulder. He looked at you as if he had the stars and the moon in the palm of his hand, the universe glimmering in his eyes as he opened his mouth to say, what you already knew was, 'I love you'. That was, until, the bell above the door behind you rang and, quite frankly, the loudest gasp you've ever heard rings across the place, louder than the gasp Cara gave you when you showed her the huge rock on your finger when Mickey proposed.

"Fanboy?!" Mickey's eyes go wide next to you, and you can practically see the cogs turning in his head. There was no specific reason Mickey kept his marriage a secret from his pilot friends, though he prefers the word 'private'. Not only did it spare him a whole lot of hassle at work, but it kept you free from the pressure of having to actually have to talk to new people. He knew your distaste for meeting new people, the whole 'What's your name? What's your favourite colour? What do you do for a living?" causing actual bile to rise in your throat at the thought of such boring conversation. So when you nervously requested that he not tell his co-workers about your marriage because, in your own words, "I'll have to meet them and then I wont be able to go out and do what I want", a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

"Fanboy, that is you!" The voice repeated. "And...a girl, oooh!" Mickey turned around to see, who you had learned prior to be 'Hangman', Jake Seresin.

"He's nice" Mickey would say. "But he tries to fuck anything that is female, human, and has a pulse, so he's not going anywhere near you!"

"Hi, Hangman!" Mickey forces out, through gritted teeth. "What are you doing here?" His arm falls off your shoulders as he disappears a few steps behind you to greet his friend.

"Getting coffee and a sweet treat, what else?" He laughs, and you can feel his eyes burning into your back. "And who is this?"

You were hoping he had forgotten you were there as you slowly shuffled further and further down the counter, pretending to peruse the pastries as to avoid any social interaction. Mickey and Jake appear next to you, a look in your husband's eyes that can only be interpretated as 'I'm sorry.'

"Uh- Jake, this is Y/N" Mickey says, holding his arm out in an almost jazz-hand manor, presenting you as if you were a finger painting a child was showing their mom.

Jake makes eye contact with the gold band on Mickey's finger before he makes eye contact with you, his eyebrows furrowing. He grabs your left hand, faster than light, inspecting the matching wedding band, the gold glimmering in the afternoon sun that beat through the window. He grabs Mickey's left wrist, holding your hands up next to each other as his eyes flick between them. Suddenly he drops them both as his eyes go wide and another yelp leaves his lips.

"Garcia, you're married?!" He looks like a proud dad.

"Hangman, please-" Mickey's practically starts begging, his hand instinctively reaching for yours, but is cut off by a boyish slap on the shoulder.

"I cannot believe this!" Jake laughs, throwing his head back, his free hand clutching his stomach. "How did I not realise this? What the actual fuck, have I died? Have I died and gone to hell? A world where Fanboy, of all people, has a girlfr- no, not girlfriend, a wife?!?"

Mickey chuckles with him, shaking his head and blushing. He pulls you into him. "Hangman, we keep this private for a reason, so please can we just keep this between us? As in, my wife and I go about as normal and you keep quiet?"

"Keep quiet? About this? No way, I can't, I've never kept a secret in my life!" Jake is practically squealing, who knew a grown man would be this thrilled over someone else's marriage. "I'm sorry, I haven't even introduced myself, I'm Hangman, my friends call me Jake, or daddy, depending on which friend's you're talkin' to, if ya catch my drift"

You shook his hand politely, a nervous smile on your face. "I'm Y/N, uh, nice to meet you"

"So this is why you didn't want anyone to know" Jake looks at Mickey knowingly, crossing his arms and squinting. Mickey raises an eyebrow and cocks his head in confusion. "What, dude, your wife's hot. Better keep her away from Rooster, don't worry, bud, your secrets safe with me."

And with that, Jake retreats out the café, not even ordering his coffee, or sweet treat.

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Your secret was not safe with him.

Later that evening, you were sat at The Hard Deck bar, where you and your husband were frequent flyers, no pun intended. Cara and yourself sat in the corner, nursing a drink each, catching up on the past few weeks, mainly talking about her upcoming wedding. Mickey was on the other side of the bar, pool cue in hand as he made eye contact with you, stealing a sly wink before turning back to his aviator friends.

"Earth to Y/N!" Cara says, waving a hand in front of your face. "God, I wander what would've happened if I never pointed him out to you at that café!"

You were interrupted by a thundering yell by the front door. "Guys!" Oh Christ. "Guys, Fanboy has a wife!"

"That wouldn't have happened, I can tell you that for certain" You rested your head in your hands, avoiding Jake's gaze like the plague before he inevitably would pull you over to the group. You sank further and further into your seat, practically merging with the chair as to avoid being spotted. As per usual, Cara was sat there with a hand slapped over her mouth, muffled laughter escaping through her palm.

"Fanboy has a what?!" The group yell back, almost in sync, as you make eye contact with Mickey who has his head down chuckling. He squeezed his eyes shut, nervously clamping his bottom lip with his teeth, desperately trying to drown out the thousands of questions being hurled his way.

"Since when?"

"Who is she?"

"Do we know her?"

"Is she here?"

"Guys, I think we should all give Mick his privacy, I mean, there's obviously a reason he hasn't said anything-"

"Shut it, Bob!"

"Tell us everything!"

With a nod of his head, you're rolling your eyes and dragging Cara along with you towards him. Your hand is clamped to Cara's, who's still regurgitating laughter behind you. Micky extends an arm as you get closer, putting the pool cue down to reach under his shirt and pull out his dog tags, a gold ring sitting on the chain.

"Jake!" You call out, playfully furrowing your brows at him. "That was supposed to be our little secret" Mickey's arm finds it's way behind your waist as he places a kiss to your temple, you're more than aware that his friends are looking at you, shock plastered across their faces.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry Y/N" Jake said, theatrically wiping sweat off of his forehead, giving you a quick side hug as a greeting, despite only meeting him a mere four hours ago. "I just couldn't keep it in. Our little Fanboy has a wife!"

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[poproccks]

John Dory Headcannons!

★ Glove is a compression glove for an old injury; a major burn scar that lines his fingers, palm, and paw pads on his left hand. (Inspired by @teaOwOstache’s comic – I am currently writing a one-shot for them based on their amazing comic.)

★ Has about an inch of white hair from the sheer power of Crimp’s vacuum. I, personally, believe that the vacuum’s power accelerated the talent-leaching tremendously and caused physical effects to show sooner. (Also shown on Bruce and Clay)

★ Various scars from his years of camping, foraging, cooking, hunting, and other things related to the nomad life.

★ He is the third tallest of his brothers, being almost the same height as Bruce. Second shortest of Brozone.

★ He was left-handed before the burn incident – and had to reteach himself how to write with his right hand instead since his left hand shakes too badly to write properly now. His handwriting, while improved, still isn't as good as it used to be.

★ Has nightmares occasionally like Branch. I like to imagine they bond slightly over that fact once they do get closer – obviously, it's still nothing like Branch’s and Floyd's relationship.

★ Building off the last point, JD tries not to feel too bitter about the close relationship they have. He realizes that the fractured relationships he has with all of his brothers are his own doing. He’s doing his best to get to know them all now and learn about their interests and hobbies. JD still walks on eggshells around them all about 60% of the time after a few more major blow ups between them. He is John Dory, however, so he still crosses lines many times by accident.

★ Thickest and fluffiest tail of Brozone (more of a general HC but, tail hair/fur can move like Troll head hair/fur.)

★ Very active, and regularly takes walks, runs, etc around Pop Village to keep up his fitness.

★ Found Rhonda when he was in his early 20’s and she was a much smaller bug bus. (Inspired by @ohposhers) She grew rather quickly after that and they became inseparable. John Dory handles all of her repairs and anything to do with her healthcare. He becomes very anxious when he has to pass that responsibility to anyone else. Branch took care of an ailing Rhonda once because he was the only one in the village with the needed materials and ingredients for the medicine. (“Who's crazy now? Me. Crazy prepared,) The dull-toned troll basically had to beat John off with a stick to get him to listen/let him help the poor bus, basically like a Helicopter parent. I genuinely believe without her, John Dory would absolutely crumble. Troll dust.

★ Stay’s in Branch’s bunker the most of the four others, besides Floyd who decided to move to Pop Village. When he’s feeling especially bad or wants to be alone, he will still retreat into Rhonda. She is basically an oversized security blanket.

★ Smells like either dust, fresh dirt, or rain. Definitely smells like something naturey. Branch smells like things similar, but it’s noticeably different.

★ Usually ALWAYS has something stuck in his hair or tail, no matter how small. Dust bunnies from exploring or helping clean, leaves, branches (ha), and other miscellaneous things.

★ Usually has the following in his hair pocket dimension; 2-3 bandaids, an extra glove, chapstick that he always loses, granola bars, and a small thing of water; just in case. Oh, and treats for Rhonda.

★ Carries an old family photo of his brothers and Grandma Rosiepuff from right after Branch hatched. His parents were also in it, but have long been torn out.

★ His goggles, past and present, were from his father (Also inspired by @teaOwOstache) and so he takes begrudgingly good and meticulous care of them.

★ Definitely a victim of parentification/older sibling syndrome. (I’m not projecting, you are.)

★ The order of brothers he bonds or reconnects with the easiest to hardest; Floyd, Bruce, Clay, Branch.

★ Suffers from aches and pains when it's cold or rainy out. He refuses to admit it is because of age.

★ Self soothes by pulling at his jacket, running his fingers along the zipper teeth, or adjusting his goggles when anxious.

★ If he doesn’t want to make eye contact or is crying or about to, he’ll pull his goggles on. It’s easier to hide than to explain. He gets better about talking about it but emotions are always a sore subject and difficult for him.

★ Like most Trolls, John Dory can hiss, growl, and purr.

★ Dark blue paw pads, with blunt nails with chipped polish.

★ When he went back to the troll tree pod, after mourning what could have been, he collected mementos of his brothers and his grandma; Branch’s old baby blanket, Floyd’s old plushie, Bruce’s old hoodie, One of Clay’s old books and a blacket Rosiepuff knitted long ago. They’re hidden in a box on Rhonda.

[fanofthelamb]

lovely art you make please never stop!!!

WAAA TOO SWEET. thats it. MOREEEEEEE ART DUMP!!!!!!!! im not sure how many of these i posted but!! i think mostly it's all new!!!!!!!

I wonder if this'll become a thing for me. BAHAHAH

scrapped ref page i've made before ^^^^^ it was similar to nari's except it turns out the red's color jitter was too extreme.... the grren was AMAZING tho. Comments with the pieces btw!! and 30+ pics I think?! So expect a long ass post. :) this isn't even all the unposted art, just the stuff I thought was good enough to post!

First thing's first! How about a comic I never posted? I was kinda embarrassed by the writing of it, but this WAS just something to help Rue. (You might notice a lot of the art in this thread was sent to Rue and never posted. Sorry Rue. little of this is new for you. sone is tho. orzzzzz)

Woah? The lamb has feelings? The lamb has bad feelings about their past?? Who knew. Shocker. (also LMFAO AT NARI IN THIS HE REALLY SAID "oh ur crying? I'll give you a reason to cry")

something to kind of help storyboard out the animation i'm tryna work on. its not going well. turns out that shit is hard.

and some beyond the grove narinder. yall eat BTG nari UPPPPPP.

speaking of BTG? how about some panels of a future page? Chapter 1 still. feel free to laugh at how strangely i draw the draft. ti works for me!

back to normal nari. IN PANTS!!!!!!!!!!!

THIS isnt actually a drawing it's a real image taken of me and rue

i dont know if i posted this or not, actually. i am not a big fan of it, though.

i need to draw leshy and val more </3

idk if i posted kalladad either BAHAHAHAHA

also, i dont know if i posted THIS either. i dont SEE it but i could be wrong ?

now how about a couple of kissing booth scraps?

long with the scrapped comic where narinder kills and eats the face of the goat. </3 rip that thing (the goat LOVES fighting and LOVES someome who can beat thier ass almost as much)

and some heket bullying her brother (she wuvs him tho)

i dont know which acc i posted this to, actually. i drew this bc rick kept reposting halflife shit BAHAHAHH

oh and here's a vent piece or two i made with annona. they seem harmless enough to post i guess? i wish i made more content with them.

i jsut wanna chew them between my molars like a marshmallow.

this si also sometihng i made for rue BAHAHAHAHAH HAVE I POSTED IT? IDK.

and of course, the least toxic totally-not-abusive-as-fuck pairing of lamb and the red crown. this isnt exclusively BTG related but I dont know how much interest people would have with him being a character on FOTL? he is 1000% having his own role as his own charavter in BTG though.

oh, and this guy i wanted to post forever ago, but i needed time to adjust to his design. this is the best i have made of him and it might be what sticks. he's leshy's uncle. (took worm baby in after both his siblings went missing)

more nari, because he's my most popular scrumplie. probably bc i draw him the most and a lot of my stuff is nari centric. nude nari because i literally couldn't think up what i wanted to draw on him. i was gonna edit clothes on later and forgor BAHAHAHA

i actually dont know if i posted this too? this is tyar and baal <3 baal was pretty shocked to have learned vitas was tyar's spouse. he's still not ready to talk about it, but he does want to ask the lamb about it one day.

and some childhood memories i never finished.

i MIGHT have posted this one ?

i posted pieces of this page but here's the full:

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Imagine an au where Reader knows almost as soon as they get their powers that the other mutants are (or will become) yanderes. Maybe they're an isekaied person who played a weird otome game. Maybe they watched a yandere version of X-Men Evolution. Maybe they read a comic or book about it. Point is, they lived their new life with no knowledge of their previous one, and there is no going back or remembering it. (It's just a fun fact that isn't important to the au itself).

Reader seems to be able to see the future and have visions and dream about the future. But they know, without a doubt, that they have to avoid others, no matter what. They're almost like a magnet for trouble. Almost everyone everyone could potentially meet, human or mutant, will likely either a, kill them, b, hurt them, c, kidnap them, or d, try to force them to join them. Reader sees these bad futures, and they have a breakdown. Their julournals are filled with notes, their room is full of boards and papers full of writing that makes no sense (except to them), and then Reader leaves, in the middle of the night, amd decides they need to hide, or find a way to avoid people, because they feel like if they even speak to the wrong person, or do them a kindness, or get in someone's way on accident, then their life will be in danger.

Xavier sense a new mutant, one who is in deep distress, and tries to send his team after them... but nothing. This new mutant always seems to know where they plan to go, or whatever place they want to intercept them, and they'll go in the opposite direction or simply go in what seems like random circles... A few times they come close to finding them, but it doesn't work. So all they can do is try to reach them another way, or sew if they can't get them to come to Bayville...

Reader does eventually go to where everyone is, but only because they're tired, their head hurts, and they've had visions of all the bad things that could hapoem if they don't at least show up in that exact town, at that exact school. They're a nervous wreck showing up in town, they're quiet and jumpy during classes, and a lot of the school wonders if their home life is okay, and if Reader needs help-

This leads to Reader pointedly trying to appear more put together, and still falling short. Everyone is convinced there's something wrong, either at home or in their personal life or that they're traumatized by something, but no one can get close enough or actually speak to them to find out what it is that's bothering them.

Mystique catches on that Reader is a mutant, starts to investigate, and gets her team to try and find out their power. The Brotherhood teens all fail, spectacularly, even, because Reader acts like a frightened, awkward mess, to the point it's almost comical how fast they run away or how quick they are to excuse themself, it's just less funny because they genuinely seem terrified when anyone gets close or asks them a question. This eventually comes to a head.

Reader, seeing a vision where the school is destroyed, killing everyone inside, including Mystique and the mutamt teens, and how the remaining mutants turn evil and get revenge for it, ends up asking to see Principal Darkholme. They're jittery, sitting across from her and trying not to stare at anything for too long, but shakily explain they saw something, something bad, and need to tell her... Mystique gets to listen as she's told that there's a terrorist, some anti-mutamt racist, who plans to set a bomb inside the school, amd that if she or someone else doesn't stop that person, then it will kill everyone inside, including her, and Reader, and every teenager and teacher who comes in that day...

Mystique and Xavier team up, just this once, and have themselves amd their teams find this person, their group, stop them, gather the evidence and their blueprints, and leave them where the police can find them... In the news the next day, it says a bombing plot against the Bayville high school was stopped, possibly due to an unknown hero or anonymous do-gooder, and that there will be investigations to shut down any members of this group still out there...

Reader did it... They stopped something bad from happening... But now...

The people they were trying to hide from know what their power is... and are now trying to get them to join them...

And all Reader can do is try to hold on, and be careful... because they see how wrong things could go... but with how the future can be changed by anyone... Reader isn't so sure what will happen in the end...

[dysfunctional-doodle]

Hello. I hope I'm not bothering you, but I was wondering what's your personal headcanons on the Bayverse Turtles? I may have spelled headcanons wrong, so correct me if I am wrong.

(Dude I always spell headcanons wrong I got you)

Oooh hc time! Random stuff really, but:

Mikey has ADHD and Autism. I mention it very briefly in my tmnt chat fic, but I read a fanfic with this idea and it just fits so much for me. Especially the ADHD, which I think the creator of the movie confirmed somewhere anyway?

Donnie has chronic pain in his upper back/spine area, specifically where the shoulders are. To me, he just seems to have a more awkward, uneven build compared to his brothers - he is thinner and taller, yet his shell is still huge. So i kind of had this hc floating around. Idk if other people like it but eh. Cant be a nerd without a bad back I guess

Mikey and Donnie are definitely the younger brothers. Mikey being almost a full year after Donnie, and Donnie being about half a year after Raph and Leo (who are the same age)

Raph knits. Basically confirmed anyway. Specifically he learnt to knit after they were struck by a particularly harsh winter and needed blankets - Raph, being the only one that wasn’t too weak/in hibernation mode at the time, learnt how to knit to try and protect his family when he couldn’t fight the enemy with punches and kicks. He still knits blankets for them every year when the winter grows cold. They keep every one, so they have the comfiest beds

They share a room. 4 giant turtles crammed into one room with rickety bunk beds and hammocks is very funny to imagine

Leo loves romance movies. In particular the TV movie ones.

Leo had a similar attitude to Raph when he was a child until Splinter went missing for a few days whilst scavenging for food (he was fine in the end…mostly. A hasty escape from a warehouse caused him to injure his leg and be forced to hide until he could gain enough strength to return to his sons). When seeing his brothers grow hungry and scared over the few days he took charge, becoming much more of the Eldest Brother figure.

Mikey idolises Leo. He wants to be just like him one day. He thinks he’s the coolest. (It makes Leo’s comment about his head “always being in the clouds” hurt so much more)

Mikey gets a Klunk eventually, saved from being drowned. Her siblings were not as lucky (yes, I am very much writing a fic for this)

Donnie’s favourite pass time is computer science/programming/IT based activities, like how 2012 Donnie seems to enjoy chemistry the most and 2003 Donnie leans heavily towards engineering.

Leo loves house plants

Raph hates house plants

Donnie is blind as hell without his glasses and spent a lot of his younger years unable to see much. Once he could finally see he suddenly was given a world with endless possibilities and potential

Leo is terrible at technology. I’m talking 80 year old woman bad. He always clicks on scam ads and blows up computers. Something just doesn’t click with him and technology

They all have heavy turtle instincts due to them, like 2003, being just turtles rather than a mix of human dna. This causes them to have instincts and qualities turtles have such as retreating into their shells, brumating (at least partially), chirping, etc.

Donnie has a major sweet tooth

Raph can’t stand most sweet things

As kids, they would spend most their time looking at the human world and pretending they were with them.

Donnie is autistic, and has a lot of stims when he is happy that involve chittering and chirps.

Leo cheats at every video game/board game they play due to the eldest sibling advantage

Mikey loves to draw his own comics

Their Christmas hip hop album is fire

Raph is actually the cook, and is quite good at it. Mikey always burns things or they are undercooked because he’s too impatient, Donnie experiments and Leo blows everything up

That’s all for now!

[navstuffs]

Tag, you are on it!

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader

Summary: Miguel finds you and Gabriella playing on the backyard. Based on the comic Tag - Pixie and Brutus by @pet_foolery

Warning tags: domestic bliss, fluff, happiness, feel good type, my bad attempt on writing comedy lol

Author's Notes: after being obsessed with this man over a year, i finally joined the fandom (its never too late i guess). hope you enjoy your reading!

Miguel arrives home exhausted from work, taking off his coat and loosening his tie. What an awful day! Between deadlines not being respected and useless meetings taking far too long, Miguel had to stay late to finish a sudden important project. He was fortunate enough to have you pick Gabriella up from school. 

You met Gabriella after five months of dating Miguel(and almost two years of knowing each other). "A friend," Miguel explained the first time you met, nervous about his little girl's reaction—a sentiment you also shared, way more desperate for her approval. 

Everything went so well; even Miguel felt a little jealous of you, watching his daughter gravitate in your personal space the entire night. Especially when, before you left, he noticed Gabriella waving so you could kneel on her level. She covered your ears with her small hands, whispering as you nodded. Miguel observed quite anxiously, his eyes focused on any reaction. You just opened an enigmatic smirk as if you were teasing him that you could win his daughter so quickly.

Three months after this, Gabriella suddenly asked on a Saturday morning why you hadn't moved in yet, almost causing Miguel to drop the breakfast plate with scrambled eggs he had prepared. You and Miguel tried to explain that you still haven't talked about it yet, and adults can be complicated sometimes. 

Besides being Gabriella's new favorite play partner, Miguel hadn't tried to insert you into their daily routine. Not because he didn't trust you, just...Miguel just had to take things slower. His main priority would always be Gabriella, her well-being and happiness. Inserting you into their routine would make it hard for both if you and him didn't work out. And you agreed, understanding as you always were: Gabriella should always be the top priority. 

As it happened on one of your previous dates when the nanny called, informing Gabriella had gotten a sudden fever and had puked once. You urged Miguel to leave, telling him you would solve everything at the restaurant. Miguel was so surprised when you appeared in the house thirty minutes late, still dressed in your date clothes, with anxious eyes on the little girl in his arms. You stayed that night, ensuring to leave only after Gabriella's fever got down as she slept in your arms - when she heard your voice, she opened her arms begging for you to hold her.

Gabriella was already too attached, and Miguel was too much in love. That's why he was still unsure when he asked you to pick her up. 

When Miguel hears Gabriella's giggle from the backyard, his heart instantly warms. Your capacity to make her laugh made him jealous before. Now, it only makes him fall in love with you even harder. To think there was ever a time Miguel was terrified of what would happen if Gabriella didn't like you. 

He follows his favorite sound in the world, his body relaxing. You two seem to be playing tag: Gabriella never seems to catch you, but she doesn't seem to mind just having fun as you run away in the middle of his vast backyard, both barefoot. Miguel slowly joins his daughter, kneeling on her side as she hugs him tightly, all sweaty. "Papi! We are playing a tag game." 

"I noticed." 

"I don't seem to be able to tag back, though," Gabriella replies, confused in her innocence. As if she could with her small legs. You are still turned around from them, probably catching your breath, unaware of Miguel's presence yet. An idea pops on his mind.

"Tag me." 

"What?" 

"Tag me." Miguel offers his hand, opening a smile. Gabriella opens a big grin, tagging him.

"So, have you given up, Gabi?" You, still in the middle of the backyard, turn around with a playful smile. It completely disappears from your face as you watch Gabriella tag Miguel instead, your boyfriend slowly raising. A dangerous smile on his lips warning you to run.  

You only have one second to react, too slow already, as Miguel starts sprinting in your direction as Gabriella encourages him, excited. Your lungs complain as you run away from him, feeling Miguel hot at your heels. It is the only time you will probably curse his long and strong legs.

You give a quick look over your shoulder, panicking. Miguel has that intense, wild look in his eyes, the one you see when he is determined to get what he wants: to get you. You ignore how your body feels and wonder if you shouldn't just jump in the pool (what a joke, Miguel was a great swimmer as well). 

"Behind you." It is the last thing you hear before Miguel pounces on you, managing to do it gently to a round of cheers from Gabriella. 

You both fall to the floor, and Miguel turns you around with a frown. "Were you going to jump in the pool?" 

"Who, me? Nooo. So you could swim and catch me?!" 

"Liar! You were about to jump in the pool!"

"As a distraction, only! You would have jumped straight after me anyway."

"Oh, I would have." He is serious, you know that.

With his body thoroughly pressed against yours, you hug him, "Missed you. How was work?" 

“Terrible. As always.”

"As always." You agree, watching his expression change. Miguel suddenly becomes aware of how your body is pressed against his, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. He tries to get away from you, but you don't let him, your arms locking him down, a malicious smile on your face.

"Don't…"

"I am not doing anything." 

"Not in front of-"

"Miguel, I am not doing anything!" You giggle, the sensation of a victory spreading against your chest. "You know, I wouldn't do anything in front of-"

You both look toward where Gabriela was standing before to find nothing there. Before you two can even untangle, Gabriella jumps on her father's back, startling you both. 

"Tag!" 

She immediately jumps away, giggling as she runs inside the house. Miguel sighs, not before your hand cups his cheek so you can look at him. "I will keep her company. It is fine."

"I don't want to impose-" 

"Miguel, it is not an imposition. She likes me better anyway."

Miguel gets up from the floor, helping you stand as you watch Gabriella hide behind the sofa, her messy hair and eyes peeking out.

"Are you going to…stay?" Miguel wonders, his tone soft. 

"Of course I will. Maybe we can repeat this tag game after Gabriella is asleep?" You offer, bluntly teasing him. "With much less clothes."

You smirk, watching Miguel's mouth drop open. Gabriella calls your name again and you give him a peck on the cheek, before running away to her direction. 

[punkeropercyjackson]

Pr*shippers really be like 'Purity Culture is so funny,like just look at all these medias with canon problematic ships!!!' and then the examples they use are like.Lolita(Humbert is an unreliable narrator who's so self-obsessed he victim blames his own stepdaughter who's life he ruined because she was 'irresisteble' and Dolores is played as an extremely tragic victim).Flowers in the Attic(a horror story where the Dollanganger family's incest is potrayed as what traumatized all of them and unwanted).Labyrinth(Jareth is the villain and Sarah never shows any signs of liking him back).Hades and Persephone(the beginner myth was Hymn to Demeter,which is about how women in ancient greece had no power to protect their daughters from older men and how it's bad and Persephone is miserable the whole time,including struggling against Hades' kidnapping and descriptions of her being a little girl).Batman and Robin(there is no evidence from og comics writers that they intended it the dynamic/archetype/trope as a pedestary metaphor and fan spectulation dosen't count because they're not the ones actually writing comics and Devin Grayson has apologized for her misenterpretations and said she wished she'd never written them and that it was fucked up on her part to).Game of Thrones is a popular one too but George R.R Martin is a raging racist and misogynist who employs propaganda and caricatures all over his books and with other badly written and especially positively potrayed examples,this is almost always the same case!!!!Historically and to this day the elements in 'dark romance' are used as punishments for poc and women and woc most of all,including trans ones and just trans people in general and disabled people and every minority fullstop!!!They are objectively not morally neutral and you have to be a really cruel and self-righteous person to ignore that!Fandom history dosen't erase real history.Fiction is not reality but pr*shippers care more about fictional people than real people and that's why they're bad.You're the bad guys in stories too for a reason and your lack of media comprehension is not the fault of your sociatel structurer 'lessers'