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#you’re the only superpower I’ve ever had
stevengrcnt · 2 years
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genuinely sobbing at the fact that Marc went back for Steven because he would rather be dead with him in the duat than alone and at “peace” in the field of reeds
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gothicwidowsworld · 1 year
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Domestic L.H
instagram edit - Domestic dad!lewis x wife!reader
its been a while since i’ve done an ig post but i had an idea for a while but not enough inspo for a full imagine unfortunately
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Liked by y/nHamilton, nicolashamilton, and 513,581 others
Lewishamilton Racing has always been a part of me, from my first remote control car, my dad tinkering in the shed putting together second hand parts just so I could race to fighting for my eighth World Title. Formula One has given me a platform to share my voice, bring awareness to the injustices & be a part of something worthy of the history books.But nothing will ever beat the feeling of walking my little girl home from ballet class, having tea parties, mornings where the only sound that fills our home is love and laughter. But most importantly allowing me to being the dad & Husband I’ve always dreamed of being.
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georgerussell63 I swear she’s grown each time I see her
y/nhamilton Don’t let Lew hear you say that George… Apparently he’s not ready for her to grow up
| y/nhamilton and you are? 👀
sebastianvettel Our children are our future, we should cherish all the moments we have with them no matter how irrelevant they seem
emotionalf1damage not seb being deep af in the comments
Hamiltonhugs221 Sylvie is so adorable i actually love her
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Liked by nicolashamilton, mercedesamgf1 and 286,715 others
y/nhamilton lets play a game of spot the difference
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Mercedesamgf1 Only a Hamilton could look so 🔥
| y/nhamilton She learnt from the best
hamiltonisgoat how does a literal child look better than me
User3083 Sylvie is serving straight looks sorry not sorry
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Liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and 63,466 others
y/nhamilton I ask Lewis to fix a lightbulb a week ago and it’s all “Yeah Baby I gotch you, it’s on my list.” Baby Hamilton pouts for 0.5 seconds and it’s automatically “Daddy will fix it right now!”
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Cullen_angela The Hamilton pout will get you
| y/nhamilton tell me about it Angie 🙄
georgerussell63 want me to fix your lightbulb y/n/n?
mercedesmad3234 George Russells the kind of guy to offer to do his teammates diy
russellgeorge2018 ik that trend is like so dead but he literally is… george russells the kind of guy to say “just call me a professional’ after accomplishing the most simple task
nicolashamilton it’s ok y/n that superpower skipped me so you’re not the only one
| y/nhamilton You little liar Nicky that's so not true at all
hamilton44ever y can i for real see that happening 😂
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parkerpeter24 · 9 months
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We need the date with pool instructor!Peter Parker
since you asked in bold-
pairing ➳ swim instructor!peter parker x reader
warnings ➳ slightly nsfw towards the end. making out and regular date stuff.
masterlist
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“what have you got there?” you pointed behind his back but it was clearly evident that he was hiding a bouquet of flowers.
he finally brought it in between the two of you, standing at your doorstep, “i didn’t know which ones you like, so i got some of the most popular ones.” he chuckled nervously, handing you the mosaic of flowers.
you admired the roses, lilies, orchids and tulips, smiling wide as you took the bouquet from his hands, “i love them.”
you and peter had hung around the pool earlier in the morning but he told you that he wanted to take you out on a proper first date. so he suggested dinner and the boy was not even a second late.
as soon as the clock struck 7, he was there at your door, knocking and handing you these flowers.
the two of you made your way to the place he’d chosen for dinner, telling you about how it was his favorite place and the reason behind it.
“this was my uncle’s favorite place too.” you could tell by the way he smiled, so reminiscent, that it was a distant memory of his.
“it sounds great already.” you smiled, linking your arm with his as you walked, the place being just two blocks away from your place and all, “do you have a favorite?”
“oh, the chocolate truffle there is to die for!” you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at his remark.
“so do you suggest we have that for dinner?”
“um, duh.”
dinner couldn’t have gone better. in fact, at one point you concluded it was the best dinner of your life. you got to know peter so much better. he was so much more than just the hot swimmer you knew from community pool who had once held onto your waist to teach you kicking. he was so much different from than any man you’ve ever met. so much better.
he told you about his school life and even though he didn’t highlight much, you could tell he was very good at everything he did. you got to know about his passion for science and that he was an assistant teacher of chemistry at esu just a year ago.
“how did i even score a date with you.” you wondered out loud, making him laugh.
he shrugged, “i’m honestly wondering the same thing.” you caught a hue of pink over his cheeks as he leaned forward, “it feels like i’ve been the only one talking all this time.”
“i don’t mind.” you flashed him a smile.
“no! you should tell me more about you.” he insisted.
and so you did. you told him about your likes and dislikes, about your favorite music and foods, about your only best friend who was there for you through thick and thin, about the good birthdays and the bad ones, about small things that you recalled from the past. and peter listened throughout, making you laugh with his reactions every once in a while.
“you were right. those were some good truffles.” you sighed.
the two of you found yourselves walking back to your place as the night wind drifted past you, making your hair flow with it. peter’s hand was in yours now as you leaned more towards him.
“told you.” he smirked, “i can never go wrong with a good dessert. that’s my superpower.” he chuckled.
“you seem to have a lot of them.” you smirked right back at him, watching as his face suddenly morphed into confusion.
“n-no. just the one, actually... that’s all i got.” you thought you were getting better at reading the brunette but his nervous laugh confused you a little.
“i meant to say that you’re really good in swimming, and you’re kind of smart at an inhumane level from what i heard, so...” you trailed off, letting out a chuckle to ease the situation a little more.
“oh.” he let out a breath of air, “right.”
in less than a minute, the two of you were climbing the strairs of your apartment building. your apartment was just on the second floor, thus, you opted for them.
after leaving you to your door, peter stood with his arms behind his back, right where he had been about two hours ago. the night seemed to have ended way too soon but you didn’t know if it was okay to invite him in.
“can you-”
“could i-”
both of you decided to speak at the same time, making the other one stop suddenly.
“you go.” peter chuckled softly.
“would you... would you like to stay? for a while, you know.” you gave him a small shrug, “we could watch a movie or...”
there was a slight pause as his eyes trailed over your lips as they moved. he responded with a nod of his head.
and in the blink of an eye you were pushing open your door, just to drag him along you inside the place by the collar of his flannel. his lips were on yours and hands placed on either side of your waist– this time for a better purpose. you just hoped your place wasn’t as big of a mess but your thoughts blurred as his frame pushed you against the wooden door, it making a sound as it locked in place.
peter’s hands were doing all the good things, setting your skin on fire as they trailed down to your hips, pulling your legs to wrap around his slim waist. your arms snaked around his shoulders as you tilted your head, only deepening the kiss that you started.
his teeth bit onto your lower lip and his tongue followed to soothe the blissful ache. you parted your lips further, tangling your tongue with his. a battle of tongues, only for peter to back off and let you take control. you both knew he was way too stronger than you.
your hand ran down the length of his arm, feeling the taut muscles of his biceps before. a slight squeeze from your hand as you wrapped it around his wrist and peter knew what to do.
he pulled you along with him, gracefully carrying you with him as he tried to find his way to your bedroom.
you pointed at the room in one of the corner and peter followed suit as your lips attached to the skin of his jaw. you trailed small kisses along his jawline, until they weren’t small anymore. you bit onto his skin, soothing the bite with your tongue just like peter had done earlier.
peter was quick to wrap his right arm around you, supporting you up as his left hand got busy with opening your bedroom door, walking inside before he kicked the door shut.
it was more than safe to say that the truffle wasn’t the best thing you were having tonight.
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moonbeamwritings · 2 years
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“This can’t be real.” You whine, your face suddenly feeling hot, the collar of your costume tightening around your throat. Had the elastic strap of your stupid squirt bottle cap hat always been this uncomfortable under your chin? “This is a nightmare. Pinch me. Please, put me out of my misery.”
“A nightmare!?” Your friend whispers incredulously. “This is a dream. Look at him! His friends look hot, too.”
You take a big gulp of your tequila. “I can’t talk to him like this. It’s humiliating.” You gesture to the cheap, ill-fitting ketchup bottle costume you’d adorned for this night out, your life choices coming into sharp, dizzying focus. Why couldn’t you have just worn a revealing costume like a normal person? It’s times like these where committing to the bit isn’t always a good thing.
“Hey,” she scolds, clicking her tongue at you, “ketchup can be beautiful!”
“Not enough to talk to- to that!”
Across the room, in all his beefy, athletic glory is Bokuto Koutarou — your calculus deskmate and occasional study buddy. Someone you’ve had a crush on all semester. Your eyes scan his figure and you realize that no amount of tequila or cheap beer could give you the confidence to go say hi to him. Not like this.
He’s wearing a baby blue crop top, one that’s a size too small and tugs across the broad expanse of his chest and shoulders, squeezing at his massive biceps. Drawstring shorts in the same color expose the meat of his thick thighs and for a moment, the breath catches in your throat. What the fuck is in the water for these volleyball guys?
His two friends are in much the same state, red and green get-ups matching Bokuto’s own. The Powerpuff Girls. Bubbles has never looked so intimidating.
“I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die in front of the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, and I’m wearing a fucking ketchup costume.” Tequila angrily sloshes in your cup, threatening to spill.
Your mustard counterpart rests a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I’ll drag you into the yard. Give you a little dignity.”
You nod solemnly. “Thank you.”
Unbeknownst to you, your costume hasn’t escaped the ever vigilant gaze of the famous superpowered trio. In the opposite corner, Bokuto bounces on the balls of his feet.
“That’s them! The one from my calc class!”
Kuroo’s (Buttercup’s) head whips around to follow Bokuto’s gaze. “The witch?”
“No,” Bokuto responds, mildly offended. “The ketchup.”
“Ohh, right. Should’ve guessed.” Kuroo’s eyes roll.
Akaashi (Blossom) chimes in to add, “They were looking over here earlier.”
“They were?”
“I mean, it’s kinda hard not to notice,” Kuroo gestures to the three of them and their lack of clothes, “all of this.”
Bokuto downs the rest of his beer in one, resolute chug, confidence emanating from his very being. “I’m going over there.”
You’re in the middle of lamenting about how ridiculous you look when your friend reaches out to grip your elbow. “He’s coming over here.”
Your face drops, anxiety thrumming through your veins as your heart pounds. “No. No, don’t say that.”
“Oh, look!” She calls, glancing anywhere but at you. “It’s...... that girl that I know! I’ll uh... I’ll see you later!”
You open your mouth to tell her to get the fuck back here, that this is truly an ultimate and bitter betrayal, but the words die in your throat as Bokuto approaches. He beams as he comes to a stop in front of you, like you’re making his night by simply... existing. The sight brings heat to the apples of your cheeks.
Bokuto has to bend a bit to be heard over the music, and you can feel his breath ghosting over your ear as he says, “Hey! How’s it going!?”
“Good! How are you?”
With how close he’s standing now, not only do you get an even closer look at his defined pecs (which seem even bigger up close), but you also notice, much to your amusement, that his spiky hair has been pulled into two pigtails, wrapped together with little blue bows. How someone can manage to be cute and hot at the same time is equal parts infuriating and fascinating.
He smiles like he knows something you don’t, a hint of mischief sitting in the corner of his upturned lips. “I’m good! It’s not every day you get to talk to your favorite condiment.”
You put a hand to your heart as a surprised, teasing grin over takes your face. “Who? Lil’ ol’ me? You’re flattering me!”
“I’m only speaking the truth!”
“Well,” you start, any anxiety you felt before melting away the longer you spend in his presence (and the more the tequila settles in your stomach), “if you must know, Bubbles was always my favorite Powerpuff Girl.”
Bokuto seems thrilled at this, shifting a little to bump his arm into yours. “You’ve got good taste.”
Conversation flows easily after that. You talk about class – he hasn’t done the homework yet and he’s not ready for the test, don’t ask. He asks what your drink of choice is (it’s tequila) and how you landed on ketchup for a costume of all things (it was a joke that felt funnier at the time than it is now). It’s comfortable and breezy, and you regret not coming to these stupid house parties sooner.
You open your mouth to ask if he’d want to study together, and maybe the alcohol had loosened your tongue enough to ask if he’d want to grab coffee too, but you’re interrupted by Buttercup.
Buttercup eyes you for a moment, his eyes flickering between you and his “sister” before a smirk pulls at his mouth. An expression crosses Bokuto’s face, one you can’t read, and you shift your weight from one foot to the other.
“I hate to interrupt,” he interjects, “but it seems we have a situation in the upstairs bathroom. Mind giving me a hand?”
Bokuto sighs, his gaze shifting to yours apologetically. “Sorry, duty calls.”
You smile, a half-hearted thing that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Bokuto. “Go save the city, ladies.”
“I’ll uh-” he pauses as if he’s really considering his next words before a little twinkle alights in his golden eyes, “I’ll ketchup with you later.”
As he turns to leave, you swear you hear his friend shout over the music, “Dude, that was terrible.”
Having lost your condiment companion and your superhero crush, and with no one else to talk to, you decide to venture outside, hoping that the cool October air will help to ease the flush on your cheeks.
You can still hear the music from out here, can listen in on the gossip offered up among friends sharing a smoke at the table in the yard, but now that you’re separate from the party, looking out into the backyard, you can’t help the doubt that creeps into the back of your mind. It’s a blink of a thought, a wisp of smoke in the wind, and you suspect it’s only because you like him so much, but you wonder, idly, if someone like Bokuto could ever be into someone like you. You deflate, dropping your cup on the deck railing and pulling the stupid bottle cap hat off your head. Sighing, you feel stupid all over again.
You spend another few minutes in relative silence before the back door slides open and an excited “I found you!” sounds from behind you.
A hand presses into the small of your back. “I was looking all over for you! I came back downstairs and couldn’t find your little hat in the crowd anywhere.” The thought of him seeking you out again makes your head spin. “I brought you another drink, if you want it.”
Bokuto offers you the cup with a cute, almost sheepish quirk of his lips, and you take it gingerly. A smile forming to mirror his own. You take a sip and it’s the exact drink you had before, mixed to perfection and made all the tastier knowing Bokuto brought it for you. “It’s perfect! Thank you.”
He’s all too pleased by the praise. “I’m glad! I practically had to wrestle the last of the Sprite from some drunk dude in the kitchen.”
His expression and the hand resting on your back make your legs feel like jelly. “My hero.”
“I do what I can for my people! You wanna sit?” He gestures vaguely to the stairs leading to the yard and you nod. Before you can sit, you try, and fail, to pull your costume over your head. It isn’t exactly the most forgiving fabric for anything but standing, and you huff when you can’t bend your arm enough to pull it up and over your head.
“I hate this.” You grumble, dropping your new cup onto the railing right next to your old one. “What the fuck?” You try again and when it doesn’t budge, the annoyance only seems to mount. “This costume is cursed, I swear.”
You bring your hand up to angrily pull at the offending fabric, but Bokuto stops you from tugging again by placing his hand over yours. “Want some help?”
“Please.”
Bokuto needs all of about five seconds to get it over your head, and in that time, the costume drags the fabric of your undershirt up, exposing a sliver of your stomach. His eyes widen and he feels like those memes about Victorian men getting a glimpse at a woman’s ankle.
He’s pulled from his thoughts when you breathe a sigh of relief, plopping the costume onto the ground behind you. “Thank you. God, that was so much easier to get on.”
You collapse onto the deck stairs and pull your cup back into your grasp. Bokuto follows your lead, and when he puts his free hand behind him to rest against the wood, it ends up on top of your own. You don’t move a muscle and neither does he. The moon hangs bright and brilliantly yellow in the sky, painting Bokuto’s face in shadows that bring out his eyes and accent the high points of his face. For the umpteenth time, you think about how pretty he is and the chaos it’s causing in your heart.
You’re broken from your revelry when his eyes meet yours and, unable to hold his curious gaze, the tree in the distance suddenly becomes far more interesting than his side profile. When you’re not looking, Bokuto’s expression is struck by unabashed lovesickness. God, if Kuroo could see him now he knows he’d never hear the end of it.
In the comfortable silence that follows, and free from the confines of your condiment prison, your unasked question from earlier sits on the tip of your tongue. Do you wanna get coffee with me? The question plays over and over again as you rehearse the words and imagine them leaving your mouth. It can’t be that hard, right? People in cheesy rom-coms make this part seem so easy.
As if sensing your hesitation, you feel Bokuto’s hand curl a little tighter over yours. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, yeah.” You’re convincing yourself more than you are him, and it shows. His brows furrow and he seems to lean a little closer to you, awaiting an explanation. “I was just...” You sigh, collecting your nerves. “I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee with me this week? I could help you with the homework, too, if you want?”
Bokuto’s head tilts to one side, and before he can think to stop himself, he asks, “Like a date?”
He watches as your eyes widen. “I mean- I-...” You flounder, your face hot under his gaze. “If you want!”
The grin that overtakes Bokuto’s face is downright blinding, and you’re certain it’s the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen. And, for the first time, you catch a glimpse of his dimples. It should be illegal for one man to be this handsome.
“I’d like that. I don’t have practice on Tuesday. Wanna go at 11? I can pick you up from your dorm and we could go to that place down the street. Get off campus for a while before hitting the books?”
Your nod only spurs his smile to widen, his dimples to deepen. You have to fight the urge to reach out and pinch his cheek. “Sounds good to me.”
“Now,” Bokuto says suddenly, plucking your hat off the ground and fixing it over his pigtails as he moves to stand, “I’m freezing my ass off out here. Get that costume on and let’s go dance!”
With his free hand, he pulls you up. His hand only leaves yours for the second it takes you to pull your costume back on before his fingers are intertwining with yours again. And as the colorful lights of the living room bounce off his face, his laugh ringing out over the music as he pulls you close on the makeshift dance floor, you can’t wait for Tuesday.
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goodnightmemes · 11 months
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YELLOWJACKETS SEASON ONE SENTECE STARTERS
❛ So what do you think really happened out there? ❜
❛ All I know is that what happened was a tragedy. ❜
❛ Is this really how you thought your life was gonna turn out? ❜
❛ I don't give a shit what you meant, you smug little bitch. You don't know a fucking thing about my life. ❜
❛ Want a quickie in the bathroom? ❜
❛ I'm pretty sure it's exactly as bad as it looks. ❜
❛ I liked the saints. They were all so tragic. ❜
❛ You're the only one who's always been there for me. ❜
❛ You're the best friend I've ever had. You know that, right? ❜
❛ We agreed. Say no more than we have to, stay out of the public eye. ❜
❛ We're gonna need to change the bandages soon. And then hourly after that. ❜
❛ Are you trying to be adorable with me? Does that usually work for you? ❜
❛ You are so mad. And yet so wrong. ❜
❛ You crazy fucking bitch. ❜
❛ If you maybe want to maybe get a drink another 20 years from now, you'll know how to reach me. ❜
❛ They'll be here to rescue us by morning. ❜
❛ If poison ivy's what kills me out here, then I deserve to die. ❜
❛ We think we know what we're doing, but really we have no clue. ❜
❛ Wolves can kill anything if the pack's big enough. ❜
❛ If you want me busting kneecaps, it's gonna cost extra. ❜
❛ You know, you can learn so much about a person by going through their personal refuse. ❜
❛ You two are the worst for each other, and I don't want to pull you out of that toxic shit again. ❜
❛ It's so easy for you to judge others with your perfect life, right? ❜
❛ We might be stuck in the middle of nowhere, but, hey, at least there's porn. ❜
❛ You're beautiful when you're honest. ❜
❛ Well, mainly, I've just been trying to channel you, so I've been being dark and deadpan. ❜
❛ Oh, please don't be mad. It's a really long drive home, and uncomfortable silences make me uncomfortable. ❜
❛ The worst is behind us, okay? We're gonna be fine. ❜
❛ Are you kidding me right now? "A bad feeling"? I don't believe in that shit, and you're not going to either. ❜
❛ I don't know what you're so scared of. You've already got blood on your hands. ❜
❛ I think bad things happened here. ❜
❛ I think we should get together and strategize. You know, pop a few pins on the old corkboard. ❜
❛ Look, you can follow me or not, just don't slow me down. ❜
❛ Is this some kind of sex thing? ❜
❛ I can already smell the ghosts of hangovers past. ❜
❛ Has anyone ever told you your obsession with biographical minutia is the opposite of a turn-on? ❜
❛ I know when you look at me, you don't see someone you should be afraid of, but, you're wrong. ❜
❛ Okay. Yes, ma'am/sir. I'll perfectly calibrate my tone as I tell you to go fuck yourself. ❜
❛ You had to know I was, like, totally in love with you, right? ❜
❛ It doesn't matter how shitty of parents they are. It still fucks you up when they're gone. ❜
❛ I don't understand why I'm the only one in this family who thinks that actions should have consequences. ❜
❛ Well, you've never been good at being anything other than yourself. Honestly, it's your superpower. ❜
❛ You can't keep not pitching in. People are noticing. ❜
❛ I don't belong here, and I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this. ❜
❛ Wait, is this a pep talk? Wow, that is so not your style. ❜
❛ Cheering people up is your thing. ❜
❛ You make people feel like things are gonna be okay just by showing up and...being your dumb, hot, awesome self. At least you always did that for me. ❜
❛ I feel like I just look like I fell off a Fifty Shades of Grey bus tour. ❜
❛ I just had a brainstorm. We should have a seance. ❜
❛ You're so not fine. Do you think I can't see that? ❜
❛ You poisoned me. Why? ❜
❛ Why can't you accept the possibility that there are things in this world we don't understand? ❜
❛ Please. Promise me you won't do anything stupid. ❜
❛ I'd sell my firstborn for a cheesesteak right now. ❜
❛ I am beyond upset. I don't even know who the hell you are right now. ❜
❛ It's not your fault. What happened. ❜
❛ I can't imagine how exhausting it must've been, always comparing yourself to someone so beautiful and smart. ❜
❛ You know, for someone who went through some shit of their own, it never ceases to amaze me how shut off you are to help. ❜
❛ I have no regrets. None. And I want you to know that. ❜
❛ I think I'm seeing things. In the Bible, people had visions, right? Like prophets and stuff? ❜
❛ I don't want to die! ❜
❛ The '50 s called, they want your dumbass attitude back. ❜
❛ Goodnight. Sleep tight. Don't let the fact that you're a terrible person keep you up tonight. ❜
❛ You're not gonna talk me out of this. ❜
❛ And who knows? With you as our fearless fucking leader, we might actually make it. ❜
❛ I know that this makes me, like, this totally selfish asshole, but I don't want you to go, okay? ❜
❛ You're obviously hiding something from me, and it's making me feel crazy. ❜
❛ What did I do? When did you stop wanting me to be your best friend? ❜
❛ I'm just saying, you know, if this was a horror movie, she'd be the villain, right? ❜
❛ Not the first time I've been held hostage. ❜
❛ You see, that is what we call leverage in my line of work. Let me go, and I'll tell you everything I know. ❜
❛ You only have leverage if I am not willing to make you talk, which, in this case, means that you have no leverage at all. ❜
❛ You guys are just as fucked-up as I am. You're just better at lying to yourselves. You're not healthy. You're not stable. You're living on the brink, just like me. ❜
❛ Every single cell in your body wants to blow things up and see what happens. That's who you are. ❜
❛ You know what? I really thought that we had something. Okay? And I thought this was… ❜
❛ I hate to break it to you, but we were just fucking. And your whole high school crush on me was really cute, but now it's just pathetic. ❜
❛ If this is an anniversary present, you are three months and my entire personality off. ❜
❛ Relationships are bullshit anyway. Trust me. Whatever you did, she'll get over it. ❜
❛ I'm pretty much the best friend you have right now. And that's not much of a competition, is it? ❜
❛ If I'm being honest, not a single one of those things felt...real. ❜
❛ I'm the reason she went. And I'm the reason she got hurt. ❜
❛ It's like if someone made me feel "it" ... it wasn't gonna be good for anybody, you know? ❜
❛ There is no "safe" anymore. ❜
❛ I wish I'd never fucking met you. ❜
❛ You don't understand. I'm afraid I'm going to hurt you... Please. I am begging you. Please. Please, just go. ❜
❛ Hey. Look, nothing has happened yet. We can still fix this. Just need you to put down the knife. And we can talk this through. ❜
❛ We'll drink rotten berries and celebrate our impending death. ❜
❛ You were never supposed to get involved in this. It just... It got out of control. ❜
❛ What do you mean, you killed someone? Like you murdered someone? ❜
❛ I can't believe you thought I was going to book club this whole time. ❜
❛ When did we become these people who lie and cheat and do awful things and just stay together because…'cause why? ❜
❛ We've always been these people. Secrets have always been a part of us. ❜
❛ You could've talked to me about that, you know. For a long time, I thought maybe you might, but… ❜
❛ Friendship doesn't matter. Love doesn't matter. They're just things that we use to pretend we aren't gonna end up like dead cabin guy; like rotted-out husks in some bullshit attic. ❜
❛ Don't you understand? You don't matter anymore. ❜
❛ That's enough of your weird fucking bullshit. Haven't you done enough? ❜
❛ 12% of all killers are caught buying cleaning supplies. Also, regular bleach leaves behind hemoglobin for the luminol tests. ❜
❛ I think what you mean to say is, "Hi, [name]. It's so great to see you after all this time. Thanks for swinging by and helping us cover up a murder." ❜
❛ You know, gardening, PTA, dismembering my lover's corpse. ❜
❛ I saw something. After...it happened. I don't think I was dead. But I wasn't really alive, either. I think I was, like...In-between. ❜
❛ I know what I saw. I don't know what it meant. But I know I saw something. Something was out there with us. ❜
❛ We just howl at the moon now and have fucking orgies? ❜
❛ You're so obsessed with yourself, I'm surprised you're aware other people even exist. ❜
❛ I'm not jealous of you. I feel sorry for you. Because you're weak. And I think that deep down, you know it. ❜
❛ I'd say it was soul-crushing, if I remembered what it felt like to have one. ❜
❛ So glad you're joining us. We've been waiting for you. ❜
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pictureinme · 8 months
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hii i loved your kitten fanfic 🤍 i was wondering if you would be open to write some fluff for her ? maybe comforting her after everything she’s been through and giving her the love she deserves bcs she’s so underrated tbh 😫
of course! thank you for your patience, this definitely sparked a lot more ideas 4 me, so here's a short but sweet thang :-) don't worry, this isn't the last fluff you're gonna get of us taking care of kitten <3
plea for tenderness
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patricia 'kitten' braden x f!reader word count: ~600 tags: pure domestic fluff, established relationship
ao3
The candles lit all around your shared living room bring an almost stifling atmosphere of comfort and romance, but it was truly just the way Kitten liked to light your home. The scent of roses and vanilla permeated the air, and the cool breeze from the window made you sigh happily.
She stretches as the two of you lay on a chaise lounge, tucked away in the corner. Her pink slip rides up on her legs, and you can’t help but think how lucky you are to be with her. Besides her obviously beautiful looks, her passion inspires you. The strength this woman had to have and continues to hold is divine at best.
Kitten catches you staring at her perfect form, and cocks her head, “See something you like, pretty?”
“Always, my love,” you smile widely and kiss her hand, “I’m just thinking, that’s all.”
“Hmm, about what we should make for dinner? I was thinkin’ chips, but that’s as far as I got.”
You laugh softly, “Your idea is as golden as ever, but I’m thinking about you, Kitten.”
She smiles and leans down to be next to you proper, “You flatter me, love. What’s on your mind exactly?”
Kitten begins to trace shapes on your bare arms, leaving goosebumps in her wake. You breathe in her signature Chanel scent, feeling it wash over your senses. You admire her like no other.
“Your beauty, your passion… your strength. You absolutely astound me, darling.”
Her head falls back in a loud laugh, reverberating throughout her body, “You’re such a sap! All I’ve done is sit here, and you say such sweet things.”
Eyes crinkling as you smile, you whisper to her, “I mean it, truly, Kitten. All these stories you’ve told me, I know you embellish every now and then, but you…”
You brush a blonde curl away from her face, “You’ve been through hell and back, and I just can’t believe you’re still so you.”
She begins to wrap her arms around you in a loose embrace and sighs softly, “I do tend to embellish, don’t I?”
“And I love it, you’re the best storyteller in this country,” she kisses your forehead as you speak, “You’ve been through it all, but you remain so optimistic. I wish I could have that superpower.”
As you whisper that last part, Kitten looks at you sadly, “Lover, it isn’t a superpower. Life is just too short to waste on silly little things like the past.”
You sit up, looking into her blue eyes, “I know that, but you make it seem so easy! I know that behind the scenes, it isn’t… but I cannot say enough just how proud I am of you, Kitten.”
She smiles, looking anywhere but your eyes, “You’re too good to me, (Y/N).”
“God, you really are a saint, aren’t you?” Shaking your head, you cup her cheek in your hand, “I’m not too good to you, darling. This is what love is supposed to be.”
She meets your gaze, eyes glistening in the dim light, “You’re an angel, aren’t you?”
Before you can even think of responding, she closes the gap and kisses you with the most gentle kiss imaginable. You smile into the kiss, still holding her face in your hand. The two of you become an entanglement of limbs, never once separating your respective lips. The idea of leaving to catch a breath seemed terrible, preposterous at best.
Despite that, Kitten inhales deeply as you two find yourself lacking oxygen.
“I love you, my (Y/N).”
You both share a look that can only be described as pure dedication, “I love you, my Kitten.”
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innsyn · 9 months
Text
Writers and Dreamers needed.
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Have you ever heard the term parallel collaboration?
It’s where teams, or individuals, working towards a larger goal, tackle tasks independently.
How could that work in creative writing?
Think of writers telling different stories set in the same world with overlapping characters.
Each writer has independent control of their own story, but needs to collaborate on consistency and continuity between stories.
Why are you telling me this?
Because I would love some of tumblrs many wonderful writers to join me in a parallel collaboration project of epic proportions!
I knew this was a trap! You never wanted to be my friend, you’re just trying to recruit me. Go on then, tell me more.
Okay - so it’s a totally non-profit, Creative Commons Share-A-Like endeavour. Anything anyone contributes can be taken, reworked, reimagined and recombined by everyone - as long as it’s all properly attributed, and distributed under the same licence.
It’s a sandbox which is open to everyone - the idea is to operate like fan fiction in reverse. Anyone can come and write a story using any of the characters that have been developed, and the best will be adopted into canon.
I would love to have stories of all types exist within one original story world - action, romance, horror, smut, slice of life, coming of age, hero’s quest - I want them all and more!
Why should I contribute towards your project instead of working on my own?
I would never ask anyone to bench their WIPs. I promise, I understand how personal that connection is. If you are feeling good and working well on your WIP then I am super proud of you and will cheer you on. But working on your own WIP can be hard precisely because it’s so personal, because it’s your baby.
I don’t subscribe to the archetype of the solo writer, tapping away in isolation. It helps to have people to bounce ideas off, it helps to know that other people are working towards the same goal as you, and it helps to know that you’re not shouldering all the responsibility.
I want this to be your favourite side project. Somewhere you can go and share a big dumb idea and write without pressure, whenever your WIP is kicking your ass.
But what’s it actually about?
I’ve tried to design an overarching scenario with inherent conflict, but scope to be interpreted in many directions…
Here's the idea:
An alien with godlike technology finds an Earthlike planet and its human people.
It designs a game to select a human to be given access to its technology and decide the fate of the planet.
The alien enlists its friends to select 5 human ‘team captains’, spread around the world. They each receive access to a different technology, giving them a unique superpower.
These captains then recruit a further twenty four ‘players’ each, taking it to 125 contestants, each with their own different power.
Once the teams are fully recruited - the humans still unaware where these powers are coming from, or what their purpose is - the alien talks to them. It explains they are part of a game, and what the prize is.
The game is a deathmatch. Any player who kills another player will gain their tech access/superpowers. They cannot kill their own teammates until only one team remains.
A global superpowered battle royale. 5 teams. 125 candidates. 124 of them must die.
And you want, what? Different writers to adopt the different players and tell their stories?
Exactly! I want someone to adopt the teleporter, and someone else to adopt the earthbender, or the emotion manipulator, or the one who can bring nightmares to life. I’ve outlined 125 possible characters, each with a different superpower, but I have no idea what’s going to happen or who is going to win.
Battle Royale. Hunger Games. Squid Games. Haven’t we had enough deathmatch games?
Quick answer: no!
The important differences for this idea are twofold. Normally deathmatch stories happen inside a fixed ‘arena’ - but our stories are loose in the world.
This means most of our players have to travel around the world, trying to hunt or escape from each other - giving them much more opportunity to engage in other adventures aside from trying to kill each other - or to hide from the game and try and live a normal life.
Secondly, by making the project open ended and collaborative we make the writers part of the game. Don’t want your character to get killed off? Write stories better than the ones where they get killed. The deathmatch is part of the project process just as much as it’s part of the plot.
You’re insane. This will never work.
The only way it will definitely never happen is if we never try.
Damn. You got me. Sign me up.
Alright… let’s figure out which character you want to start with…
I've still got a loads of questions though.
Come at me, let's do this!
So what are you calling this big dumb project?
Powerclash
Nice.
So... who can I tag in who might get a kick out of this?
@advashaviv @prokopetz @huttslut @whats-on-your-mind-then @fearofthefourthdimension @caxycreations @time-to-write-and-suffer @wip-nook @blind-the-winds @autism-georg @ryns-ramblings @writeblrfantasy @writeblrsupport @harleywriteshit @unmellowyellowfellow @leebrontide @melonsap @jgmartin @tananaphone @pluttskutt @careful-fear @scribbling-stardust @irlactualwizard @cryptid-s-wips @squarebracket-trick @at-thezenith @slowboz @writinglittlebeasts @lividdreamz @all-write @sergeantnarwhalwrites @tabswrites @authoralexharvey @quantumlandbooks @stanrendipity @manuscriptsatmidnight @memento-morri-writes @magic-is-something-we-create @lukascritical @liv-is @garthcelyn @fearofahumanplanet @antique-symbolism@poetinprose @thedeerwight @inflarescent @viva-la-topknot @theblackbookofarkera @nikoschrissis @sfhoe @soiledcat
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txttletale · 1 year
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You mentioned that dnd is a bad system for beginners (which I 100% agree with. It’s was my first and I still barely grasp the rules), what ttrpgs do you think would actually be good for beginners?
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alright i’ve had a few asks asking after TTRPG recs with different criteria so here’s some good TTRPGs FOR BEGINNERS: 
Dream Askew is a GMless game about being part of a queer commune in the post-apocalypse. it’s great for roleplay--it’s diceless, with all mechanics centering around spending tokens to have your character do something cool and gaining tokens by playing into their flaws--and it splits the burden of the GM position by having players pass around responsibility for invidividual threats and setting elements like ‘raiders’ or ‘the psychic maelstrom ravaging th world’. gay af also
Trophy Gold is a dark fantasy game about pushing your luck and losing your humanity out of desperation. it has extremely simple rules, an inbuilt system for advancing scenes in the form of the ‘hunt’ roll, and the only good take on a ‘spell list’ i’ve ever seen in an RPG. look out: this one is pretty grim and designed to often end in tragedy.
Slugblaster: Kickflip Over A Quantum Centipede is the exact opposite tonally. it’s about being in a 90s teen movie from the future, doing sick hoverboard stunts in alternate dimensions, and having drama with your parents. it’s goofy and cheesy in the best ways and it has a lot of heart.
Crescent Moon is about kids going on a magical adventure. you want whimsy, you want magic, you want a dedicated mechanic for employing the power of friendship? play Crescent Moon. it has a great system for tracking ‘items’ as little cards. plus the art is lovely. i cannot give any more comprehensive review than: it sparks joy.
Masks: A New Generation is the absolute peak of PBtA design. it’s about superheroes, but unlike something like mutants & masterminds it’s not concerned with the specifics of superpowers on a mechanical level, but on the emotional conflicts that come with being a superhero in the vein of the teen titans. if you’re interested in powered by the apocalypse games (and imo you should be! they’re a great place to start) this is the premier example imo.
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Hey! i hope youre having a great day🌷🌷
Could you pretty please do some angst?? I'm craving for something that'll make me hold my breath and make me so nervous that I'll forget my name. Just pure and raw angst. Maybe something involving betrayal and torture?? That's up to you!!
luv u <3, your writings just *chef kiss*
(sorry for any grammatical mistakes, english is not my first language😅)
“I believe that of this moment, you’re the only person that could possibly understand me,” the hero whispered, quite too aware of all their weaknesses right now. It was dark in the villain’s lair and the whole ambience started with spooky and ended with mysterious. The hero knew what they asked for was impossible to impose on a human. 
That’s why they had turned to the villain.
For half a year they had waited to bring this up. It had simmered in their mind and consumed their sleep. They felt sick for coming to the villain with this. They felt sick just thinking about this.
Their enemy toyed with a pointy and slim knife, skilled fingers doing lazy tricks carelessly. The hero knew exactly how painful those blades were.
“Okay,” they said, leaning forward, “let me get this straight. You want me to kill your boss? The superhero? The big shot? The person who raised you?”
The hero swallowed, feeling the dreadful pain punching in their stomach. 
“Yes.”
“Because they may have taken international prisoners illegally and tortured them?” The villain didn’t sound convinced. They didn’t even sound interested which was, quite frankly, a problem. The hero had hoped to bait them with the promise of revenge and power. “Is there any proof of that?” 
“I’ve seen them, yes. The prisoners, I mean.”
“Ever thought of talking it out?” The villain chuckled at their own question, quite aware that the hero was ranked too low to even exchange glances with the superhero.
It was true that the superhero had raised the hero but that didn’t mean that they had any advantages within the agency. Not to mention the public argument a few years ago. Ever since, the hero had found themselves at daggers drawn with their mentor.
They didn’t talk.
“Look, I don’t wanna get into this family business.”
“They’re not my family anymore.”
“Do you think I’m dumb? This is a trap,” the villain said. Their eyes were as cold as ice, studying every move the hero made, ready for a kill. Ready for anything. “You want me to get close to them so they can kill me.” 
The hero swallowed the doubts, pushed back down the tears. If this didn’t work, then a lot of people would get killed. Chaos would rule.
“Listen, I don’t care how you kill them. Hire someone else or take care of them as a sharpshooter — it doesn’t matter,” they said. “We need them dead. For the sake of everyone living in this country. They’ve done questionable things in the past and I was dumb enough to believe that they would change. Actions speak louder than words. They pretend to be a hero but they’re anything but. While I was waiting, everything turned to shit. I can’t let anyone else get hurt because of them. A hero is supposed to help.”
They took in a long breath and sipped on the scotch the villain had brought them. The back of their throat hurt.
“I know how crude this is. And I know it is a lot to ask for. But at the end of the day, I’m afraid we don’t have a chance. Hell, I cried my eyes out when I realised this was the only solution. They’re too dangerous to be captured and sedatives don’t work on them. We have no choice. They will come for you, too.” 
At that, the villain raised their eyebrows. They blinked.
“Oh, really?” 
“Haven’t you noticed how crimes are dropping? That villains are disappearing?” The statistic was scary. Even for a hero. People with superpowers were vanishing everywhere. “They’ve become a rotting criminal. No offence.”
The villain hummed, a smirk on their face. They seemed much too amused for a topic that was causing the hero’s innards to turn.
“You’re the only one who can defeat them,” the hero said when the villain didn’t speak further. The tears were swelling up again. It hadn’t always been bad. The superhero hadn’t always been bad. 
“You really think that?” the villain asked. They leaned forward in their chair, their hands still fidgeting with the weapon. “Do you think I’m scary, little hero?”
The hero was too short on vocable creativity to describe the sound of their voice. The closest word was probably flirty. 
“A bit, yes.” 
“Hmm.” The villain seemed to be satisfied with that answer. Swiftly, they stood up and reached for the hero’s cheek, wiping away a single tear with their thumb. “That’s quite a mess you’re in, huh?”
The hero leaned against the villain’s hand, savouring the touch.
“Yeah,” they rasped. The villain came even closer, their nose almost touching the hero’s cheek.
“You’re so pretty…” they said, completely entranced. “I’ll help you but after that, I want you to be mine.”
The hero didn’t hesitate. “Deal.”
The superhero died two weeks later. The press said it was a quick and painless death but there was no denying that that didn’t really calm the public. The funeral was short and simple with little room for nosy reporters.
No one knew the killer and being aware of someone who was capable of destroying the strongest superhero on earth was a little more than upsetting. Somehow, the agency managed to keep everything under control, staying reassuring and hopeful in a time of need. 
What the villain didn’t know at the time of the killing was that their action made the hero the head of the agency. 
“Enjoying your promotion?” they asked the hero sourly the night after everything got released to the public. The hero took in a deep breath.
“I don’t have time for you right now, I’m sorry.” They searched through endless documents, signing them, rearranging them. It was robotic how they went through each paper.
“I’m not here for that,” the villain said. If it was possible, they looked even scarier than usual. “You fucking used me.”
“I didn’t know they had changed the election rules,” the hero responded. “Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I wanted this responsibility and all the work—”
Tears formed in the hero’s eyes again.
“God, why did they make me the leader?” The hero swallowed a sob. “It doesn’t make sense…I didn’t want this—”
“You used me,” the villain said again, their expression getting darker. All they could see was the betrayal and the backstabbing. They’d been so clever, so sure of this. They’d hoped the hero would join them but no, they’d become a more powerful hero. The most powerful.
“I didn’t use you,” the hero said. Tears ran down their cheeks, desperate for some security. “Please.” 
They walked around the table, reaching out and grasping the villain’s clothes, holding onto them as if they were their rock in an unforgiving sea. Sobbing into their shoulder, they searched for every possible contact. 
“I don’t want this,” they whispered, their voice only cut off by broken gasps and the rising guilt in their throat. “Please. I don’t want this. This can’t be happening. It’s too much. Please, I need you.” 
The hero almost slipped but the villain caught them clumsily, holding them to their chest in a comforting manner.
“Shh,” they said, rubbing the hero’s back. “It’s a lot, I know.”
And suddenly, the murderous thoughts got replaced by a memory. The villain was reminded of the time when they’d lost their parents.
“Please help me,” the hero said, rubbing their face into the villain’s suit. “I can bring you into the agency, I can give you power, just please help me.” 
The villain contemplated. The hero was so desperate and alone…Guilt was eating them up and everything inside the villain tossed and turned. Every natural instinct rebelled and fought but it didn’tmatter. The Villain had made their decision already.
Compassion overwhelmed them. They’d never felt something like this before. Something — the hero made them weak. Seeing them cry, seeing them desperate and upset…there was no use fighting this. Feelings were always dangerous but now with the superhero out of the way, things could be easier.
All the villain had ever wanted was to protect their family. That had spiralled into this great mess that their life was. And maybe, the hero could fix that. Maybe the hero could help them and give them a fresh start.
They kissed the top of the hero’s head. 
“I’ll join you,” they said, smiling warmly. 
“You would do that for me?”
“Yes, darling. Besides, being a hero is probably not that bad.”
It was worse. 
The villain cried out when the hero stabbed their thigh. It was sharp and painful and probably had cut deep enough into their flesh to touch bone.
The tears were quick to follow; a waterfall of salt as suffering surrounded the villain. It was so bad, they were ready to give up here on the spot. A week ago the hero had started to prepare for war. Allies had turned into enemies which had led to several attacks across the whole country. 
City after city had turned into ashes and the hero had been willing to sacrifice every life for their great plan. We need to help. Our neighbours need us.
The words echoed in the villain’s mind, making them cry even more. You and I. We were born to be leaders.
No matter how much the villain had begged them rethink their plan, to come back to bed and relax, to take the day off with them, no matter how hard they’d tried, the hero hadn’t given up.
“Darling, it doesn’t have to be like this,” the hero said gently, tilting their head. They seemed to be unbothered by the flames around them. By the screams and the burning buildings. “Stop resisting me, my love.”
The villain tried to stand up but their ankle had been shattered throughout the fight. 
“You knew it, didn’t you?” they wheezed. Tasting blood, they spat on the ground. “You knew that if the superhero died, you would get the position.” 
“I did,” the hero confessed. They looked at the scene around them and had the audacity to look hopeful, proud even. “But I didn’t ask you to kill them because of that. Don’t you see? It’s our responsibility to help people. They were torturing people.”
“And what are you doing? Look around you,” the villain screamed. “You’re mad if you think this will bring peace.”
The pain was overwhelming. The villain didn’t know how much blood they had lost but judging by the ground, it was a lot.  
“Have you seen the statistics?” the hero asked. “The poverty and the amount of crime in other countries— have you seen the misery?”
“Do you see the misery?!” the villain shouted again. “Fucking look around you.”
“I’ve made the calculations. Sacrificing our country is worth it when we can save our neighbouring countries. You and I. We have brought wealth and happiness to everyone here. We can do it again,” they lowered their weapon, offering a hand and the villain just stared. Stared at the hand. Stared at the horrible decisions.
They should’ve seen it coming. They should’ve killed the hero when they’d had the chance.
And yet, the villain looked into the same eyes. The eyes of someone who had wanted to help prisoners, someone who had overcome themselves for the greater good. Someone who had thrown their morals away with good intentions.
Someone who had never found their morals ever again.
“You’re a monster,” the villain said. A sob escaped their mouth. “I thought I loved you. Fuck, I really thought if someone could help me change, it would be you.”
“We’re heroes,” the hero mumbled.
“Actions speak louder than words,” the villain reminded them. “You taught me that.”
With their last strength, they managed to get a grip on the hero and tackle them to the ground. The hero made a pathetic sound when their head smashed into the ground.
“Fuck,” the villain said, breathing heavily. It felt like there was blood in their lungs. “I really did. I really loved you.”
And before the hero managed a response, the villain took their knife and pushed it far enough into the hero’s chest to make the breaking of their ribs a sound. The hero tried to grab them, tried to hold them, push the knife away but they just ended up cutting their hands, losing even more blood.
By now, the villain was sobbing, the shock infiltrating their mind and the feeling of the hero’s crumbling life running through their fingers dawning on them. When the hero’s movements stilled and their breathing stopped, the villain intertwined their fingers.
For the last time, they kissed the top of the hero’s head. They knew they wouldn’t survive this either.
And they were glad they didn’t.
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lykaios2 · 9 months
Note
Heya hope you're having a good day/night ^^ if you're requests are still open I had a rottmnt Leo x reader fanfic idea. (No pressure to accept this request if you don't want to)
Basically the reader is a spider person (fem or gender neutral it's up to you ^^) and Leo has a crush on them. I like the idea that maybe they cross paths when fighting a villian. Sorry if that's too unspecific.
ugh. holy moly
for some reason I really struggled with this one. there are many things I could say about this but I'm just going to leave it here for you. hope it doesn't suck
(the title is supposed to be joke about how spider people get their superpowers hahahaha I'm so funny)
Love at First Bite
rise leo x reader
tw: mid writing
word count: 2816
Leo was racing to the scene of the crime. He had only gotten the call a minute ago, and he was thankfully ready, already on patrol. As he turned the corner, he saw the culprit. Him again. Leo didn’t want to have to deal with this guy again…but maybe he didn’t have to? It appeared that someone had arrived before him…but who? He couldn’t recognize them, he didn’t think it was anyone he knew. But if they were here, they must be some sort of superhero, and he knew every superhero there was in New York. And your fighting style…so eloquent, like nothing he’d ever seen before. He had to know who you were.
He jumped to your side to help you take down the villain. As the police arrived on the scene to apprehend the villain, Leo walked over to where you were.
“That’s quite the skill set you’ve got on you, stranger. I’m Leonardo, nice to meet you.” He held out his hand to shake.
“Oh, thank you,” you replied, a bit out of breath. “I could say the same to you. I’m y/n.”
“Well, y/n, you’re looking at the greatest ninja on this side of New York. And the other side too. Now, see, I know every superhero there is in New York, but I don’t believe I’ve seen you around here before.”
“Oh, you could say I’m new here. I moved here about a month ago, but this is one of my first missions here.”
“I see. Well, y/n, welcome to New York. I’ve lived here my entire life, so I know this place like the back of my hand.”
“Thank you, and yeah, I could imagine you do.”
“You know, that’s quite the costume you’ve got there. It’s like…a spider?”
“Yeah, that’s supposed to be the theme.”
“Okay, interesting. Any particular reason?”
“Well, not much, it’s just kind of the theme of my organization.”
“Ah, okay. Cool beans.”
“For sure. Well, I’ll be off now, I have to head back. See you around, Leonardo.”
“See you around, y/n. Just remember me if you ever need help!” He said, waving to you from afar. He heard you laugh as you walked away.
A new hero, huh? He was certainly going to have to get to know you now. If he didn’t know you, how could he even consider himself the greatest ninja ever? Like he said, he knew every superhero in New York. Besides, there was just something about you…but he couldn’t quite place it. But, he had realized he didn’t know when he would actually see you again. He would just have to hope he could meet you…
“Donnie! I need your help!” Leo called to Donnie as he entered the lair. “I’m being for real this time.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. What is it you need?”
“This may sound like a strange request, but I need you to do a bit of…non-malicious stalking for me.”
“Oh, my dearest brother, you came to the right person. You have no idea how excited I am to do this for you. And you ask me this like you don’t know I place trackers on you all.”
“I always forget about those. Anyway, you can do this for me? Great.”
“Now, brother, who, perhaps, might we be stalking?”
Leo explained his situation, how he had met you, how you had just moved to New York.
“And I need to get to know them…I know everyone, all the superheroes in New York. It’s part of my job as the greatest ninja in New York.”
“Well, you are indeed the face man. I’ll see what I can do. Give me say, an hour?”
“Okay, I’ll be back here then.”
Leo acted calm while talking to Donnie, but in reality, he was a little nervous. He hadn’t quite realized, but he was becoming very focused on this. A little too focused, maybe. He sat in his room, waiting, staring at the clock. 10 minutes, then 20, then 30. He was so focused on the clock, he hadn’t even noticed that Donnie was in his doorway.
“Leo…?”
“Yeah? Wait- Donnie? What are you doing?”
“I could ask you the same question. You’re staring at the clock, and it looks rather unsettling.”
“Well, I was just, you know, waiting for you to finish up. Anyways, what are you doing here? Did you finish?”
“Well, I had to use the restroom, so I got up to do so…have you been sitting here looking at the clock the whole time?”
“Uhh…yeah, I guess.”
“Right, because that’s a normal thing to do. Is something the matter?”
“I think I’m just…a little too fixated on this, I think. I probably just need to take my mind off of this.”
“Why don’t you do that, hm? I’m going to try and finish this up.”
Leo left his room to find Mikey or Raph. It didn’t matter to him, he just needed to get his mind off of things.
Donnie came to find Leo a short time later. He informed Leo he had found the information he wanted.
“So, they moved here from Arizona, it seems. They have two siblings, a brother and a sister.”
“Okay, okay. What else?”
“Well, as for their interests, those include video games, stargazing, reading, among other things.”
“Hmm, okay…thank you. Although one more thing, did you happen to notice any spots they liked to hang out?”
“Uh…they posted a lot of pictures of them at the park. You could try there.”
Leo nodded and thanked Donnie before heading off to the park.
“Wait, Leo, do you even know exactly who you’re- Oh, he’s gone. Well, I don’t even know what his plan is at this point.”
Leo rushed off to the park to find you. He made an effort to look everywhere he could think, all the popular spots and the hidden ones, too. It was a fairly big park, so he had plenty of spots to look. Nothing here, nothing there. All the while, you had indeed been at the park. Every so often, you thought you saw a quick flash of blue out of the corner of your eye.
“Man…I must be seeing things.”
Leo kept looking, but he couldn't find you. After all, he didn’t know what you looked like under the mask. He would just have to hope he ran into you. But he wouldn’t have to wait long. Before he could search every corner of the park, a huge crash came from a couple blocks away, followed by screaming. Leo stopped immediately.
“Woah, we got a problem.”
Leo pulled out his communicator and called his brothers to the scene. At the same time, unknown to him, you pulled down your mask, hearing the commotion and getting ready for action.
All of you rushed over as fast as you could. As Leo met up with brothers, he was unaware that you were shortly behind you. Leo and his brothers started to fight, and to his surprise you joined them.
“Oh, it’s Leonardo! And…some other heroes? I guess I’ll find out in a second.”
Mikey and Raph noticed you first.
“Who is that? Never seen them before.”
“Me neither, but it looks like they’re on our side. So fight now, talk later.”
Leo heard them and looked around, finally finding you.
“Guys, it’s them!”
“Who is “them”?”
“I’ll explain in a second, I’m a little busy here.”
Leonardo, along with you and his brothers, eventually stopped the ruckus, and was able to finally talk to you again.
“Hi y/n! Fancy meeting you here again.” Leo was breathing quickly, trying to catch his breath after the fight.
“Yeah…who are they?” You said, looking over at his brothers.
“Those are my brothers. Let me introduce you. This is Raphael, Michelangelo, and Donatello.”
“Hi, I’m y/n, as you may have already guessed.” Mikey was the first to speak up.
“Hello! So, how do you know Leo?”
“Well, we met not too long ago. Only once though, I had to leave before we could really get to know each other too much. All I know about him is that he’s a fellow superhero, and the greatest ninja in New York.”
“You know it!”
Leo talked for a while longer with you, getting to know you. Thanks to all the info Donnie gathered, Leo was able to hit it off with you. His brother stood behind him while he talked, occasionally chiming into the conversation. But in the meantime, Mikey and Raph started their own conversation.
“You know…I think Leo might have a little thing for y/n…if you know what I mean.”
“Omigosh, you’re so right!”
“Hey, chill. Don’t want ‘em hearing us.”
“Right, right, sorry. But that’s so adorable. I think they would make a good couple. But also it’s a little early to say, they only just met. But Leo totally has a thing for them.”
Leo kept talking with you, as his brothers stood behind him.Donnie left after some time, realizing he was no longer needed in this conversation. Mikey and Raph followed suit shortly after, and it was just Leo and you.
“Well, now that it’s just us…wanna go have some fun?”
“Ew, gross, no.”
“Chill, not like that. You have such a dirty mind.” he said while smirking.
“You’re stupid, you know that?”
“I get that a lot. Anyway, do you actually want to go do something?”
“Maybe. If I can get over your sense of humor.”
“Fine, I’m sorry. Really. Does that help?”
“I guess. But, there was this one place I wanted to check out…”
“Oh? Would you mind if I joined you on this little excursion?”
“Promise me no more of those jokes, and I’ll allow it.”
“Okay, okay. But I can’t promise I’ll stop all of my jokes.”
“Well, if you are joining me, I hope you’re hungry.”
Leo was led to a new restaurant, which he had never seen before. On the way there, he was becoming a little suspicious, as the area he was being led through was an area known for high amounts of crime. But when he got there, he was in awe. He never knew about this, so how did you? Every moment he spent with you, he was becoming more amazed. He…he could almost say he loved you. But he just met you, it wasn’t anything serious. So it couldn’t be love…right?
“Come on, Leonardo. Let’s go in.”
Right. Focus on what’s happening right now.
“O-okay, coming.”
Leo followed you into the restaurant. As he looked around, he took in everything. It was definitely a nicer restaurant. The atmosphere was very calm, but also busy.
“Woah…nice place. You’ve never been here?”
“Nope, first time.”
“Hello, have you two been helped yet?”
“No, we just arrived.”
“Ah, okay. If it’s just the two of you, we have a table open right this way. Follow me.”
You and Leo followed the waiter to a table in the back. As you sat down, he handed you some menus to choose from.
“Take your time. I’ll have someone sent out in a minute to check up.”
“Thank you. Good thing I have my wallet on me, I would hate to have to make you pay. Let’s see what we have to eat…”
“Yeah, this place is a little pricey. But I’ve heard it’s really good, and worth the price.”
“It better be…ooh, they have pizza? You already know I’m ordering that.”
“Pizza? I mean, sure.”
“Pizza’s my all time favorite. If it’s on the menu, I’m gonna order it.”
“Be my guest. I’m just gonna get the chicken sandwich.”
Another waiter walked up to the table.
“Hi, I’ll be your waiter for tonight. Are we ready to order?”
You and Leo ordered food, and after a bit more waiting, the food came and you began to eat.
“Mmm…this is so good. I might have to bring my brothers here sometime, they would love this place.”
“They are also big pizza fans, I assume?”
“Oh yeah, absolutely.”
“Your brothers seemed pretty nice.”
“Eh, they can be a little annoying at times…but we’ve been through a lot together. I love them very dearly.”
“Yeah…must be nice. I didn’t get along too well with my siblings, and I had to move away from my family when I took up this position.”
“Oh…that must have been hard.”
“It was…but I got over it. I’d rather not think about it.”
“Hmm…yeah. Well, I’m done with my food. You wanna head out?”
“Sure. I’ve been done with my food for a while now, anyway.”
You and Leo left the restaurant, thanking the staff on the way out. Leo decided to lead you around New York, showing you all of his favorite spots. All the shortcuts he knew, his favorite hangout spots, good places to eat.
“Wow, you sure know about everything.”
“When you’ve lived here your entire life, it becomes second nature.”
Leo showed you around a few more spots before stopping on top of a building near the edge of the city. It was nearly night time, and the city lights were starting to turn on.
“Wow, the city looks so beautiful at night.” Leo smiled.
“Just one of the cool things about living here. Sometimes I come here alone, when I need to relax.”
“I can see why. It’s very relaxing up here.”
Leo watched as you sat and looked over the city at the lights. You looked so cute, in awe like that. Maybe he did love you. Maybe it was love at first sight, but he doubted it was the same way for you. Sure, he was amazing in every way possible. But things like this took time.
“Leo? Leo!”
“Hm? What?”
“You spaced out for a second, dude. Look at the sunset. And the stars are starting to come out, too.”
The sunset looked incredible, and with stars sprinkled about the night sky, it was even better.
“Woah…so beautiful.”
You both quietly watched as the sun went down over the horizon. The stars started to come out, and soon it was nighttime. Leo looked over at you again as you yawned and laid down on the roof.
“Tired?”
“Heh, a little. I could use a little extra sleep anyway.”
“Want me to take you home?”
“No, I want to stay here…and look at the stars.”
“Well, the roof can’t be comfortable for sleeping on.”
“You’re right. I think this would work better.”
Leo was taken aback as you came over and laid your head on his lap. He blushed slightly, but luckily for him, it was too dark to see.
“Much better.”
“Y-you comfortable there?”
“Yes, very much so.”
Leo sat as still as he could to make sure you were comfortable. He didn’t want to ruin this moment. It was perfect for him. He looked up at the stars with you. They were truly a sight to see.
“What are you doing, stupid?”
Leo hadn’t noticed, but his hand had started to drift towards your head. He was too caught up in making sure everything was perfect that he didn’t realize.
“Oh sorry, I was just…um…”
“Just…um…what?”
“Well…sometimes my brothers lay on my lap, and…they like it when I rub their heads…so I guess it was just like instinct, or something…”
“Well, keep doing it. It felt nice.”
Leo chuckled as he kept rubbing your head.
“Heh, okay.”
Leo laid back a little bit while you both continued to look up at the stars. He was so comfortable with you…he could almost just let it all out right now. He was in love with you and there was no denying it.
“Hey y/n…”
“Hm? What’s up, Leonardo?”
“Can I tell you something?”
“As long as it’s not another stupid joke.”
“Haha, no, it’s not. It’s something else…”
“Then what is it?”
“Well…um…I’ve had a great time with you tonight. And I know we’re not very close…but I think I like you.”
“I mean, cool. Good to know you don’t hate me.”
“I don’t think you understand.”
“What don’t I understand? You just said you- oh.”
Leo looked away as you realized what he meant. He was blushing again, but you couldn’t see it.
“Well…I think that’s okay.”
“Okay? What do you mean, okay?”
“Well…you’re pretty cool. Despite your stupid jokes, you’re actually pretty funny. And I’ve seen you fight before, sometimes I just sit back and watch you guys if I get there late. You’re a pretty nice guy. I like you too.”
Leo smiled as you told him how you felt. It was a relief to hear. After a second of silence, he spoke again.
“Well, now what?”
“Hmm…I think I’d like to relax and watch the stars with my boyfriend. That would be nice.”
“Your boyfriend?”
“Ugh, you’re so stupid. You, silly.”
Leo laughed awkwardly. Right, him.
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akashigadabi · 1 year
Text
Lovebug
Prompt: Hug. Original list here.
Pairing: Yandere All For One x Consenting Reader
Summary: After a shit day, you just need All For One to hold you.
Word Count: 1137
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romantic Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Everything Is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts
Rating: T
Warnings: Soft Vibes, Reader Being Soft, Soft All For One, Consensual Relationship, Established Relationship, Suggestive Language
Other: Reader has a quirk. Reader is written so reader is gender neutral as far as gender/gender identity and romantic or sexual orientation.
Ao3.
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“I just need you to hold me right now.”
All For One closes his laptop without hesitation, every speck of his attention transferring onto you. It still seems remarkable even now to have him divert his focus at the drop of a dime because you asked for it, but you would never abuse this superpower. Right now you just need comfort after what you had to deal with today. Hell, after this entire week you have no greater desire than surrendering yourself into his care. What are husbands for if not comforting you every time the world tries crushing your spirit?
“Come here, then.”
He gestures for you to approach him, so you do. Once you’re close enough, he tugs you into his lap. His face burrows into the junction of your neck and shoulder to press a kiss to your exposed collarbone. Several moments then pass as he shifts you around to a comfortable position. Only after you settle does he comb his fingers through your hair. More kisses alight onto your face. Three land on your left cheek, one falls on your chin, another flutters over your right eye, and the last trails from your nose to your throat.
A sense of comfort seeps into you, some from the bond but the rest from within yourself in response to the shower of affection. As if you weigh nothing, All For One shifts you around again. This time you straddle his lap, legs dangling on either side of his hips. Your forehead rests against his collarbone. His large hands smooth along your spine as he nuzzles his cheek against the side of your head in a manner reminiscent of a feline. A litany of purrs follows, further lending to the impression. Swaddled by his embrace, you sense your distress start to dissolve. You close your eyes, content to sit there until one of you gets tired.
“Thank you,” you murmur with your lips hovering inches above soft white fabric. All For One gave you a light squeeze before dropping an additional kiss at your temple. Bliss saturates the very air, palpable even without the glowing presence of it permeating the bond like warm sunlight. Such pure, bright energy mellows out whatever gloom remains. Few people can cloak you with an aura so full of delight.
“As if you really had to ask. I enjoy few things more than holding you in my arms, little mate.”
His words ring true, mirrored in the euphoric cloud surrounding him. All For One revels in the trust you show him. It gladdens him to no end knowing you come to him for comfort like this, that you trust him with your weary heart. That he picks you up without fail every time you stumble or falter only fuels said trust. He despises anything that robs you of your own happiness, and makes it his mission to distract your mind when melancholy hits you. Your work as The Heretic isn’t always easy and often takes its toll.
“Tch. From what I’ve heard, I can guess some of those other things.”
Laughter bubbles out of his throat. It’s one of the most beautiful melodies you’ve ever heard. Not many other songs compare aside from his heartbeat or the rhythm of his breathing. Perhaps his actual singing voice, too, or those desperate little noises he makes sometimes when you’re making love.
“I’m sure you can, sweet one, yet I stand by those assertions.”
Peeking up at him from underneath your lashes, you offer him your own fond expression, so that your next words sound full of endearment rather than chastisement. They land softly against him, lacking any true judgment. You adore him as much as he adores you. Little could change that.
“Shameless man.”
A wicked smirk blooms across his otherwise angelic face, giving the impression of a fallen angel unabashed by his status. What a tantalizing juxtaposition. It’s fetching to an absurd level how he can appear so divine while harboring such a sinful nature under the surface. Almost like a trickster concealing their true nature.
“What about me ever suggested I feel shame?”
You reach up to cup his cheek in your hand, palm grazing his jawline. Smooth skin greets your delicate touch. Of course someone as sturdy as him does not require such ginger handling, but he appreciates it nonetheless. His eyelids slip halfway shut, hooding his pretty crimson eyes.
“Hmph, and I thought there was hope for you.”
All For One tips his head so he can plant a kiss on your wrist. Elongated canines nip at the sensitive area, though not hard enough to draw blood. Still, it draws a shudder out of you. From the glint in his eye, you gather All For One desired that very result.
“Would you have me any other way?”
The answer floats easily from the depths of your heart, showing in your eyes as your other hand sinks into his soft white hair. You wish it was longer, if only so you could truly tangle your fingers amongst the strands. It would certainly make pulling on it easier. All For One might even be persuaded to consider growing it out if he knew. No doubt he too would enjoy added length for similar reasons.
“…No, I can’t say I would.”
All For One grins, incorrigible as ever. Your heart flutters in your chest at the sight. Love for him pours from the depths of your heart, dousing the bond in a second layer of an intoxicating cocktail. Affection, devotion, adoration, admiration, commitment, compassion, and more all swirl through your connection. Something about All For One visibly softens another degree.
“Nor would I ever desire for your nature to change, sweet little mate mine.”
The two of you stretch to meet in the middle. Your foreheads touch, as do your noses. You stay there basking for several long moments. Despite your shitty day couched within a shitty week, you feel at peace. All For One tilts his head so that your mouths slot together in a sweet kiss. Somehow being enfolded within his loving grasp just erases every hidden worry.
“I love you, Haji-chan. Never change.”
“Never fear, my sweetling. I will never stop loving you.”
Unconditional love shimmers down the bond from both directions. When both sides converge, sweeping through each other, dizzying waves of euphoria slam back toward each of you. It leaves you both feeling lightheaded. If not for the steadying presence of All For One’s desk or the fact that you two had already been seated, it would have literally swept you off your feet by bringing you both to your knees, or more likely, bowling you over like ninepins. Right now though, a tangle of limbs sprawled across the study floor doesn’t sound like such an awful idea.
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finelinevogue · 2 years
Note
Harry would be like your being a brat missy because she's stubborn and all that. She wouldn't let Harry pamper her from their early stages of their relationship hell probably wrap her in a blanket and call her shawarma wrap ✌️😔 then poke the sides and tell her she'll eat her later LMAOOOO
oh this is so cuttteeeee! here's a tiny welcome back blurb:
July 3rd 2018
“You’re no fun.” Harry whined. 
“And you’re a man-child.” You argued back. 
You’d only been dating for a few weeks, but it felt like you had been a married couple of forty years. It was just so easy between the two of you. You got along so well that some people were genuinely jealous.
Gemma was talking to Harry a few days ago, which Harry then told you, about how people would come up to her at the end of your nights out and complain that you and Harry were too in love - to the point where you needed to tone it down because it was making other peoples relationships look menial in comparison. 
You and Harry just had a relationship like no other, because you understood each other. Or maybe it was because you were in love, but it was too early to say. 
Harry was currently trying to pamper you after a hard day with editing. Your Sunday’s were reserved for editing so that your content would be ready for the week. The whole day you had been sitting at your desk, typing away at your desk with little to no breaks and now Harry was trying to distract you for the evening. He was worried you were overworking and that you’d give yourself bad burnout. 
“All I’m asking is that you come shower with me.” He said, sitting on the edge of your bed patiently. 
You’d not moved in with each other yet, but the amount of time you spent with each other you might as well be. The topic of moving in with each other hadn’t arisen yet, but when it did you were more than happy to say a big yes. 
“And I need to edit this video.” 
“When are you uploading it?” 
You rolled your eyes, preempting his reaction. “It’s my monthly what i’ve read video.” 
“So it’s for uploading at the end of the month?” He asked. 
“Yes.” 
“And it’s currently the 3rd.” 
“Okay.” 
“Nope. That’s it.” 
Before you could ask what was up, he had swivelled your chair around and picked you up from underneath. 
“Harry! Oh my God, H!” You laughed but also screamed, latching onto him as he manhandled you across the room and onto your bed. 
He threw you down on top of the bed and before you could escape, rolled you over, as well as your duvet, so that you were burrito rolled up. Your head was the only part of you that was visible. You tried moving your arms but they were tucked tightly to your sides. You continued to laugh as Harry kept you steady. 
“Woah, woah. Careful.” He said with a hint of concern when you nearly tipped yourself over the edge of the bed.
“I don’t even think it would hurt if I fell I’m that bundled up.” You chuckled, thanking him for pulling you away from the edge. He climbed on top of you so he was straddling himself over your stomach. 
“Y’look fucking adorable right now.” 
“I feel like I’ve been mummified.”
Harry laughed at your comment, before taking out his phone and snapping a few funny photos of you. You didn’t even bother posing, knowing Harry would only take good photos of you anyways - it was his superpower. He even put his ringed hand on your cheek at one point and caught a photo of you kissing his palm. He immediately set it as his lock screen.
“Ever had a shawarma wrap?” He asked you, putting his phone to the side.
“Yeah?”
“Y’look like one sexy shawarma wrap, right now.” He said and it made you giggle. Then he leaned down and started kissing away at your exposed cheeks, lips and neck.
“Harry stop!” You laughed away, not being able to control the giggles.
“Nope. Gotta eat y’up now.” He bit his teeth playfully against your jawline and then kissed over the spot, softly, afterwards. “Can’t believe I’m falling in love with a little shawarma wrap.”
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bi-bats · 3 days
Note
Identity porn college au you say 👀👀 also ;) ;) 👉👉 Bad Days 😳
💖💖💖 glad to see you active again my friend
glad to be active again!! I have a bunch of health stuff going on that's really pulled my focus from writing much of anything, but it's nice to just let myself think about fun stuff again 💖
I'm putting this under a read more cause this got LONG
YEAHHHHH IDENTITY PORN COLLEGE AU!!! I have a snippet for that one!! A nice, long snippet:
It all went wrong right before Tim had his coffee, because that was always when everything went wrong. He had just picked it up off the counter, rolling his eyes at the name on the cup. Jim. Whatever, it was his. It wasn’t like anyone else was ordering a large red-eye with two extra shots. He lifted it to take his first sip and turned— Broad shoulders, scar on the neck, white streak in the hair, angry green eyes—check, check, check. And check.  “Jason.” Tim’s voice cracked mortifyingly on the word. “Hi,” he added, before he finally managed to force his mouth shut. One thick eyebrow raised at him. “What's up?” he asked delicately. He didn’t want to have a very public interaction with Jason here, because they would draw attention and someone would realize he wasn’t Jim, but Tim, Tim Wayne, and then this would be in a tabloid. But apparently, Jason wasn’t interested in having a very public interaction. Apparently he wasn’t interested in having any sort of interaction with him at all. He didn’t know why he expected Jason to resume talking to him now. Being ignored by Jason was easy. Seeing his anger, the way it twisted in his eyes when they used to be pliant and soft, felt worse. Tim just sighed, deflating as the air left him. “Right.” It had been for the best, he reminded himself. “I’ve gotta go.” “As always,” Jason drawled. Tim’s eyes snapped back to Jason’s, and he looked vicious, but a little hurt under it.
basically, the premise is that they meet in college and then start dating, and then they break up because Jason knows that Tim is lying to him about why he's constantly disappearing in the middle of dates, etc. etc. He basically tells Tim the last time that he can either tell him why he's leaving in the middle of the date, or he can not come back. So he doesn't come back. Then Red Hood and Red Robin start hooking up because both of them are looking for outlets, and it's a casual/antagonistic thing until Red Hood ends up taking Red Robin to one of his safehouses after an injury... that Tim had been to for a date with Jason. And of course from there it all spirals! 💚
and now for your snippet of Bad Days. A nice long one for being so patient with me:
“I don’t even know why you and Tim like this crap,” Jason grumbles as he tosses the controller on the coffee table.  “It’s more fun when you’re evenly matched. You should see Tim play against Bart, he loses his shit.”  “Tim says he cheats,” Jason mutters as he turns a suspicious eye on Kon.  “Only if having superpowers you can’t shut off is considered cheating.”  Jason narrows his eyes at Kon. “You’d know if I was using my TTK on you, Jason.” “Would I?” “Oh... yeah, I guess not. I don’t think I’ve ever used it on you.”  Jason’s face goes a little surprised, and Kon’s stomach sinks. “You don’t think?” “I… can’t always control it. Not like, I can’t get it to work or anything, but sometimes it has a mind of its own when I’m relaxed. Especially when I’m sleeping.” “What does it feel like?”  “I don’t actually know. Tim says it feels like a hand sometimes, though.”  “Show me?” Kon’s eyebrows shoot up for a moment, before he forces them back down.  “Oh, uh—” Kon takes a second to put down the controller, then he places his hand on Jason's forearm. For a split second, he isn’t sure what he plans to do, but he relaxes the part of him that has his power held back. It’s a little like noticing his jaw is clenched and forcing the muscle to loosen. In the second he relaxes his hold, he feels his TTK reach out, and he watches as Jason’s face turns towards Kon, slowly, like he’s being tilted by a hand on his chin. “Oh,” Jason says softly, and Kon feels a flare of heat across his cheeks.
Thank you for the ask!!! 💚💚💚
send me an ask about one of my WIPs!
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ichorai · 2 years
Text
dancing choose ; wade wilson.
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track three of DEAR SCIENCE.
pairing ; wade wilson x gn!platonic!reader
synopsis ; when you said he’d come crawling back to you on all fours—you weren’t really being serious.
words ; 2.3k
themes ; comedy, action, angst
warnings / includes ; strong profanity, graphic depictions of blood/injury/violence/trauma, mentions of getting drunk and high, sexual innuedos, wade makes fun of vegans i'm sorry, one mention of edward cullen our sparkly vampire, hulk's ben and jerry's ice cream flavor, dumpster flowers, rumor has it wade is still waiting for the avengers to reply to him to this day, getting beat up by girl scouts, mentions of carnage bcs yes carnage and deadpool did fight in the comics, and mhm wade is quite literally on his hands and knees for you in this one
main masterlist. 
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Wade Wilson wasn’t good at life. If there was an award that went to the person who was the worst at existing, it’d go to him annually. He sucked at maintaining healthy relationships, consistently neglected his own well-being, and rarely ever took anything seriously. On the grand pyramid of shitty things that could possibly happen to a person, Wade was most likely at the very tip top of the food chain. He was the great white shark of the ecosystem that were unfortunate events that a person could endure—not that it was something to be proud of. Besides, Wade never really liked sharks. He’d much rather be a seahorse or something in the next life. If he could ever even get out of this life. 
You had once mentioned that he was purposefully sucking at life as some sort of coping mechanism for his childhood trauma, but he merely responded the only way he was really good at—like a three year old throwing a tantrum. He had stuck his fingers into his ears and yelled out, “I CAN’T HEAR YOU! LA LA LA!” 
Besides, what were you, his therapist? 
No, seriously, though. What were you?
You had appeared into his life around three years back, when he crashed clean through several buildings in a row (thanks a lot, Carnage), eating mouthfuls of rubble and inhaling pure dust and shards of glass. After the fourth building he was thrown into, he crashed out of a window, stumbling into you, an innocent pedestrian just on their way to try out the new vegan restaurant down the street. He collided into you with enough force to send the both of you toppling over onto a busy road, asphalt scratching painfully against your cheek. Cars screeched to grueling halts only inches away from the two of you, angry honks erupting from a dozen vehicles at once. Wade almost had the gall to feel guilty for a second upon meeting your wide eyes. Then he spotted your trembling lips start to open into a horrified gape, which then gave way to the most awful, ear-splitting scream he’d ever heard.
He began screaming with you shortly after, because he promptly realized that his legs were gone and the pain was nearly enough to have him pass out.
“FUCK! FUCK, OH MY FUCK! SHIT! JESUS CHRIST, SO NOT COOL, CARNAGE! SO NOT COOL,” he yelled, using his arms to drag himself across the road, spitting out obscenities at the cars honking at him. There was a thick trail of blood and bits of mutilated flesh and skin following his severed knees, and you had to physically force your eyes away before you could feel your breakfast move its way back up your digestive tract. You pushed yourself up onto shaky feet, grabbing Wade’s suited hands and dragging him to the sidewalk with a groan. 
“What the fuck happened to you?” you panted raggedly, staggering away from him as soon as he wasn’t under the imminent threat of being run over by a white man’s dirty Toyota. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” Wade winced, completely not fine. “They’ll grow back in a day or two. I’ve had my legs cut off way too many times to count.”
Your brows furrowed. “Jesus. You’re one of those Avengers folk, aren’t you? Fuck.” 
“Nuh-uh! That is so offensive. Just because I’ve got superpowers, doesn’t mean I’m an Avenger! I’ve been sending them my resume for months now, and they still haven’t gotten back to me.”
You had the audacity to roll your eyes. “Listen, hot-shot, I don’t know what I can do for you, then. I have a reservation I can’t miss. Are you gonna be okay on your own?”
“Ooh, reservation. Sounds fancy. Where are you going? You got a date or somethin’?” Here he was, bleeding out on the side of the road, and nonchalantly asking you about your love life. 
You blinked twice. “Yeah…” you started hesitantly. “Just down the street at that new vegan restaurant. It’s my first one with him and I don’t want him to think I’ve stood him up.”
“Must have a humongous penis to get you dressed up all fancy shmancy for the first date. At a vegan restaurant, no less! Listen, here’s a life lesson that I had to learn the hard way: vegans only gain happiness from two things and two things only—tofu and being mean to millennials on Twitter. Save your time,” he hummed glibly. You absentmindedly wondered if he was going loopy with the amount of pain he was enduring. Blood began dribbling from his nose and leaked past his cracked lips, and he sat up abruptly, spitting into his mask. “Oh, gross. Gross! Fuck, all I taste is blood now—Edward Cullen you nasty fucker. Look, I’m sorry to ask this, you seem like a really nice person and I really don’t want to drag you into my shit but I’m gonna drag you into my shit anyways. Do you have a place I could maybe lay low for a while? There’s this really awful alien after me and I don’t think I can take them without losing any more limbs.”
After a beat of silence, you pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed heavily. God damn it—you couldn’t just leave him here alone, could you? “Yeah. Yeah, it’s just down a block. Let’s go.”
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So, that was how you met him for the first time. Blew off a tofu-loving, millennial-bullying vegan (his theory, you never actually got to meet him), in order to save his ass from a goo parasite from space.
You quickly realized that this was nearly an everyday experience for him. It eventually became a routine pattern. He’d go out, get himself beat up by some otherworldly beings (there was that one time a gaggle of girl scouts beat him to a pulp, but he made you vow never to speak of that again). Then, he’d come slinking back to his apartment where he’d call you and whine until you begrudgingly agreed to come over with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s—specifically requesting the Hunka-Hulka Burnin’ Fudge flavor or he’d threaten to set himself on fire. Dramatic fucker. 
And sometimes he’d come to your apartment, dripping vermilion blood everywhere, or high out of his goddamn mind, or so drunk that he could barely formulate a coherent sentence. Usually it was some infuriating combination of the three. Nonetheless, you’d tuck him into your couch with a fleece blanket and a throw pillow he often complained smelled like nacho cheese, but he slept like a baby despite it all. 
And when you woke up? He was never there. No notes, no crude pencil drawings of dicks on your wall, no trace of him whatsoever. The process would continue to repeat itself a million times over, and you began to find yourself unsettled with your predicament. 
Who was Wade to you? A friend? A stranger? A man who occasionally slept on your couch and constantly made you worry for his well being despite knowing that he was practically immortal? 
The day you finally exploded at him, bombarding him with questions he had no answers to, he hadn’t meant to start yelling back. Insults were traded, scathing and cutting far too deep for either of your liking. He particularly remembered you hissing out, “Please, you can barely even function without me! You’re awful at taking responsibility for yourself, Wade! You don’t eat well, you barely ever sleep if not passed out on my couch, you’re always high or piss-drunk or beaten up halfway to hell! You know how fucking exhausting that is? Taking care of someone that doesn’t give two shits about you? I bet you wouldn’t last a fucking day without coming crawling right back up to my door on all fours! Like a little bitch!”
Wade knew you were just caught up in the heat of the moment—that this wasn’t really you. But damn if your words still hurt. 
The fact that so many of your angry tirades were falling upon deaf ears and a stonily blank expression only seemed to fuel your frustration more, pushing you to the brink of tears glossing over your reddened eyes. That night ended with you telling him to never come back, and you had to physically shove him out of your apartment, slamming the door with such ferocity that the floor rattled beneath his feet for a split second.
Wade had stood outside your door for a full minute before coming to and realizing just how much of an asshole he’d been. You didn’t owe him anything. Hell, the two of you barely knew anything about each other. He began knocking softly, asking you, begging you to open the door, apologizing over and over and over. Then, he proceeded in his attempts to bribe you—with chocolate bars, movie nights, free vegan dinners, the chance to shoot him in the ribs, he put it all on the table for you. He was in front of your apartment for hours. 
The door never opened. 
That was around six months ago.
Now, as he found himself back in front of your apartment after so long, things were different. He wasn’t wearing his superhero suit like he usually did, there were flashcards of what to say in his hands just in case he completely blanked upon seeing you, and clutched in his other palm were half-wilted flowers he scavenged in the back of an alley dumpster (listen, he didn’t have the time nor money to buy you proper ones, so it was the thought that counted). 
After rapping his knuckles against the wood three times, the door swung open. 
Fuck, Wade was nervous. Suddenly his sweaty fingers fumbled and flashcards were fluttering to the ground, making a mess of pink little cards, some filled with doodles of extremely realistic (a style commonly known as ‘stick-men’) depictions of what he thought he looked like while fighting bad guys, and other cards with his lines of what to say to you. He dropped to his knees, hurrying to grab at the scattered pieces of paper.
“I knew you’d be back,” you sneered, staring down your nose at him with thinly-narrowed eyes. “Jesus, Wade. It’s been… forever. I didn’t—I thought something might’ve happened—”
With a heavy sigh, you got down on your knees beside him, picking up some cards with a curious hum. “When I said you’d come crawling back to me on all fours… I wasn’t actually being serious, Wade.”
“Shucks,” Wade said, nervously taking the cards from you, uncharacteristically tentative. “And here I was thinking you were into that.”
Your expression immediately soured. “What do you want from me, Wade? Come to mooch off of me again? Make me care about you and leave just before things get heavy?”
“Y/N,” he breathed out, mentally going fuck it and setting the cards back down on the floor. “You’re wrong. All those months ago you said I couldn’t give two shits about you. I did—I do give two shits about you. In fact, I give so many shits that the toilet would be clogged with just how many shits I give about you! I don’t know how to deal with this. I don’t know how to care for someone properly. I don’t know how I’d do it right. But I wanna try. Please, Y/N, let me try.”
The way your jaw set made Wade swallow nervously. Then, the slight quirk of the corner of your lips made Wade tilt his head in surprise. “Are these… flowers? You got me flowers?”
“Yeah, but they’re from the dumpster.”
“No need to put yourself down, Wade. They’re lovely.” You took the wilting bouquet from his grasp with a mild grin.
He didn’t have the heart to tell you that he was telling the truth. Just as long as you didn’t stick your nose into them, he supposed he’d let you remain blissfully oblivious.
“So what are you asking?” you asked, thumbing the bruised stems of the flowers. “You wanna try being friends? Real ones?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that,” he whispered with a near watery chuckle. “Whose balls did I have to fondle in my past life to get lucky and crash into you all those years ago, huh?”
The way you wrinkled your nose in distaste made Wade snort. “Don’t be crass, fuckwad. I missed you, too, for the record. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean most of what I said that night. I was being really harsh for no reason. There’s nothing wrong with struggling with things like that, Wade, you just need a bit of help, is all.”
There was a beat of comfortable silence before Wade sighed, pushing himself up to his feet, dusting off his pants before offering you a hand up. You took it gingerly, opening the door wider for him to step in. 
Glancing once at one of his cue cards, he cleared his throat. “My name is Wade. Also known as Deadpool, founder of X-Force, and an Avenger-in-waiting,” he declared, gazing at you fondly. “I may suck at this whole living thing, but at least I look amazing while doing it.” When you shot him a halfhearted glare, he lifted his hands in surrender. “Kidding, kidding. I look like a chewed up piece of gum, let’s be honest. It’s nice to meet you… friend.”
The brilliant smile that painted itself violet over your features made just a slight fraction of the same expression mirror itself onto Wade’s face. “Nice to meet you, too. I think we’ll be getting along just fine.”
Wade Wilson wasn’t very good at living, but he liked to think he was just a little better at it now because of you.
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sesamestreep · 4 months
Note
New Taylor Swift prompts! 16, Matt/Foggy
16. I’ve missed you all this time (from this prompt list) I don't know what this is, but it's technically set in the 60s, even though I did not make that explicitly clear anywhere in the text and it serves no purpose beyond just...vibes. I mostly just wanted to write silly new year’s fic, don’t worry about historical accuracy or world-building, everyone be cool! happy 2024, you silly and sultry geese! on ao3 here 🥂✨
Matt can still hear the noise of the party, barely dampened even when he's several rooms removed. He’d be able to hear it from the lobby of the building, truth be told, but here he can still make out conversations without having to focus that hard. He tries to direct his senses somewhere else—somewhere with less overlapping chatter and clinking glasses and shuffling feet over plush carpets—and breathe deep, so that maybe he can regain some equilibrium and hopefully go back to the party in a few minutes and act normal. It’s almost midnight, after all, and who goes to a New Year’s Eve party just to ditch out before midnight?
“Matthew Augustus Murdock,” a voice calls out from the far end of the paneled hallway.
“Not my middle name,” Matt says, smiling, “as you already know.”
“But wouldn’t it be better if it was?” Foggy asks, as he slides down to sit next to Matt. 
“Yes, I imagine I’d have lived a much easier and more successful life, if only my middle name was…what was it again?”
“Albert,” Foggy says, “or something. Who cares?”
“Good point,” Matt says, pressing his shoulder into Foggy’s happily. “How’d you find me?”
“I used the one and only superpower God graced me with: I’m like a homing pigeon for you specifically. I always know where to find you. It’s eerie, frankly, and damned useless, but—“
“Not to me,” Matt interjects, too readily. “I mean, for what it’s worth.”
Foggy nods, his overly long hair that he keeps meaning to get cut rasping over his shirt's stiff collar as he does. “That’s a good point.”
“I make those occasionally.”
“Occasionally,” Foggy repeats in a comically shrill, tiny voice, like he’s doing an impression of a cartoon mouse, for whatever reason. He’s a little drunk, clearly, which Matt could tell from the way he’s talking and the way he’s moving and the way he smells and, well, that’s probably enough evidence. 
“If I’m ever in trouble, I know who to call,” Matt says, which is maybe too honest, but Foggy doesn’t have to know that.
“You wouldn’t even have to call, Matt,” Foggy replies, solemnly grasping his shoulder. “If you’re ever in trouble, I’ll know and I’ll come running.”
“I would pay real money to see you actually run anywhere.”
“You’d have to, my man. I imagine it would take a massive breakthrough in science for you to see anything at all, and those things tend to cost a pretty penny,” Foggy says, grandly. “And also, on a much more serious note, go fuck yourself.”
Matt laughs and collapses against Foggy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I just know how much you hate running.”
“Which means you’ve entirely missed the inherent capital-R romanticism of me offering to do it for you! Classic Murdock. Absolute philistine behavior. I should expect it by now.”
“Your gallantry is wasted on me,” Matt agrees, still doing that thing of being too honest.
“I know,” Foggy sighs, theatrically, “and yet, here I am.”
“Why are you here, anyway?”
“Missed you, came looking. Same as ever.”
“Aw,” Matt says, leaning into his side even more. “You’re right, I really don’t deserve you.”
“I never said that. You said that,” Foggy says, poking him. “But anyway, I lied and the real answer to your question is that I got tired of girls coming up to me and asking where my handsome friend had got to.”
Matt knows two things with a decent degree of certainty: Foggy hadn’t been lying when he gave his first answer (Matt would have heard it in his heartbeat and likely noticed any other number of tells that Foggy has when he does lie, besides) and that no one would have had to ask him to go looking for Matt after he disappeared. His joke about homing pigeon-like tendencies is more truthful than either of them would like to acknowledge. When Matt goes missing—as he very frequently does at these types of things—Foggy always comes to find him. Matt’s been doing this since way before he met Foggy—having overly heightened senses does not make crowded social functions more manageable in general—but he can probably admit that he does it more now that he knows someone will come looking for him.
He also knows that girls like Foggy a lot more than Foggy thinks they do. He’s always talking about how girls seek him out to get in with Matt, but Matt doesn’t really believe that. There have been a few girls, here and there, certainly enough that Foggy’s right to be a little paranoid about it, who have turned their sights from Foggy to Matt, which on top of being unkind is just bad business sense. Anyone with a brain in their head would see that Foggy’s the better option of the two of them. And Matt’s got plenty of flaws, but he’d certainly never take up with anyone who hurt his best friend, so it doesn’t work out the way anyone hopes it will, anyway, when they do. Still, he's sure Foggy could have found a nice girl to keep him entertained until Matt got back to the party, if he put his mind to it, and that maybe he'd just been looking for an excuse to duck out himself when someone asked about Matt.
“This is where I got to,” Matt says, with a slightly pathetic shrug.
“Who says I meant you?” Foggy asks, absently. “I have other friends that are handsomer than you!”
“Not only do you not have a single handsomer friend in all the world,” Matt says, belatedly unsure if ‘handsomer’ is even a word, but otherwise too confident to turn back, “you don’t even have another friend at this party.”
“I’m exceedingly charming, Matthew,” Foggy over-enunciates. “Everyone at this party is my new best friend.”
Matt loops his arm through Foggy’s and leans his head back against the wall. “Sounds like I’ve got a lot of competition.”
“You’re not having fun?” Foggy asks, the change of topic so sudden and his tone so unexpectedly serious that Matt has a brief moment of confusion that he means with this joke they’ve got going. It takes a second to realize he means at the party in general.
“It’s fancy.”
“Too fancy, you mean…”
“You know I don’t go in for all this stuff,” Matt says, shrugging. 
“Like I do, you mean?” Foggy asks, lightly, even though Matt can feel him warming with embarrassment. 
“Like I used to,” Matt clarifies, and trusts his meaning to be clear.
“Right,” Foggy says, and the tone in his voice is the one he uses exclusively when he refers to Matt’s ex-girlfriend from junior year who almost caused him to drop out. “Fair enough, I suppose.”
“You can head back. Really, I don’t mind. I just need a few more minutes.”
“No, you’re right. It’s…a bit stuffy, isn’t it?” Foggy muses. “I mean, I didn’t even know people still had apartments like this, outside of, well, the Rockefellers.” 
The apartment belongs to the parents of one of their friends from law school and the only reason they have free rein over the place is because the parents are vacationing in Aspen with friends. Even without being able to see it, Matt can tell it’s a swanky place. The rug he’s currently sitting on is so plush that he can basically sink his entire hand into it. Every table he passed on his way to this hiding place smelled so strongly of Pine-Sol that there has to be a maid on staff, if not a team of them. He’s fairly certain this random hallway he discovered is actually a back passage to the kitchens, so the servants don’t have to be seen coming and going. He's not sure if he asked their host about it that they'd even know it existed. And Matt’s shoes, as well as most of his clothes, are secondhand.
“You were having fun until I made you feel bad,” Matt says, tucking his chin onto Foggy’s shoulder and trying to look contrite.
“No, I mean—I like having you around, Matt. You keep me honest,” Foggy laughs. “Two and a half years of law school, four years at an Ivy before that, I think I’ve just made peace with having to go to parties in uncomfortable clothes and to make conversation with people I don’t really like. I don’t think I’d call it fun, but it’s a social life of some kind, I suppose.”
“We should have gone to Josie’s,” Matt says, holding onto him too tightly, even with the excuse of a few drinks.
Foggy snorts, thinking of the beloved dive bar they sneak off to in Hell’s Kitchen whenever they can, whenever they’re home. It’s only a matter of blocks to get there, but sometimes, at school, it feels farther away than all that.
“I don’t dare imagine the caliber of our prospects for a kiss at midnight there,” Foggy says, with an exaggerated shudder.
“Can’t be any worse than our prospects here,” Matt replies. 
Foggy whistles, low, under his breath. “You’re going to be disappointing a lot of nice girls with that kind of talk, Murdock!”
“Better to disappoint them now than later,” Matt says, fully burying his face in Foggy’s shoulder now. He gets like this when he drinks. Foggy's used to it.
“Oh, that’s right. You don’t do the whole ‘going steady’ thing anymore,” Foggy says, leaning in conspiratorially. “You’re too damaged and that means you’re never going to get married, so you’d rather not lead anyone on.”
“You say that like it’s not true,” Matt whispers back.
“It isn’t true, you moron!” Foggy laughs. “One day, some beautiful girl is going to turn your head so quick, you’ll have neck problems for the rest of your life!”
“Sounds uncomfortable,” Matt says.
“And I’ll be there,” Foggy continues, like Matt didn’t even speak, “laughing.”
“Well, as long as you’ll be there, Foggy.”
“Did I mention you’re a moron?”
“Yes. A few times now, in fact.”
“Then, I’ve done my duty.”
“And what about you?” Matt asks. “When’s somebody going to turn your head?”
“Somebody turns my head every goddamn day, it feels like,” Foggy grumbles. “The problem isn’t my head. It’s everybody else’s.”
“There’s plenty of girls who’d be more than happy to trap you in matrimony.”
“Hmm, well, I’m sure that’s true enough,” Foggy replies, thoughtfully. “I guess it’s more about finding someone you wouldn’t mind being trapped with.”
“And you haven’t found her yet, I take it?”
“No,” Foggy says, sadly. The girl he dated for most of their sophomore year—the one everyone had been certain Foggy was going to end up marrying—had just gotten engaged last month. Foggy still wasn’t entirely over it, Matt was pretty sure.
“And you’re certain she’s not here?” Matt asks, encouragingly.
“Unlikely,” Foggy says. “None of the girls here would be caught dead with me in the daylight. One of them might be unscrupulous enough to let me kiss her at midnight, though.”
“So, go back,” Matt replies. “Find the girl in that room with the lowest standards and lay one on her!”
“I will if you will.”
“I don’t know this for sure, but I do have serious doubts that any girl in the room will let the both of us kiss her at midnight.”
“I meant, you should—you know what I meant!” Foggy exclaims, embarrassed again. 
“I was trying to be funny!”
“‘Trying’ being the operative word there…”
Matt sighs. “What’s the point of kissing someone at midnight when there’s almost no chance of seeing them ever again after tonight?”
“You’ve just described the point yourself! It’s just for fun, to start the year off right! There’s no pressure!” Foggy says, disbelieving. "What’s gotten into you? I thought zero expectations romance was your specialty!”
“Maybe I’m just not a New Year's kind of guy.”
Foggy hums thoughtfully. “Can I tell you my theory?”
“Your theory? About what?”
“About you, and New Year's, and all of that.”
“Oh. Sure. Go ahead.”
“I think you’re afraid,” Foggy says.
“Afraid?” Matt asks. “Of…New Year’s Eve?”
“You don’t want to participate in these silly little rituals, like kissing someone at midnight, because you’re secretly terrified that something good is going to happen to you, and then you won’t know what to do with yourself.”
“Really, Foggy. Be serious!”
“I am serious,” Foggy replies, casually. “You’re scared of being hit over the head with it again.”
“Hit over the head with what?”
“Love,” Foggy says, simply. “You felt it once and it nearly derailed your whole life, so now you avoid any situation where you might accidentally meet someone interesting or have more feelings than you’ve carefully rationed out for yourself for that particular day.”
Matt swallows, feeling utterly exposed. It’s not something he would have been able to say for himself an hour ago, but the words feel true to him coming from someone else. He doesn’t like anybody knowing him well enough to know all of that, though, and if it wouldn’t be so utterly obvious, he’d pull away from Foggy right now just to be safe. Like that would even help, he thinks reluctantly.
“You missed your calling not going into psychiatry, Foggy,” he says, stiffly, once he’s gathered his wits enough to form sentences.
Foggy’s hand, warm and a little damp, closes over Matt’s where it’s still resting on his arm. Matt wants nothing more than to flinch away from it, but he controls the urge in the interest of saving face.
“Don’t be mad at me,” Foggy says, quietly, like there’s a chance they might be overheard somehow and he wants Matt to be the only one who hears this. “I’m just trying to tell you that, in avoiding fun and frivolous things, you are not sparing yourself from being hit over the head. If you’re meant to get hit over the head, it’ll happen whenever and wherever Cupid so chooses. It’ll happen at the deli or the bank or while you’re waiting for the bus. Which means that the only thing you’re ultimately sparing yourself from is fun and frivolity, and that’s a stupid way to live your life. That’s all.”
“I think you just called me a moron again,” Matt says, weakly. He doesn’t know what else to say. The rest of it is...too much to consider.
“I called you stupid, actually, but I see your point.”
In the distance, Matt hears the noise of a crowd of people all simultaneously trying to shush each other, with limited success. He imagines even Foggy can hear it too a moment later when they all begin counting aloud.
“Last chance…” Matt says, tipping his head backwards in the direction of the room where everyone’s gathered.
“It doesn’t matter,” Foggy says, apropos of nothing, as far as Matt can tell. He’s about to ask what he means when Foggy continues, anyway. “I have someone who meets your criteria.”
“My criteria?”
“Yeah. You’ll only accept a kiss from someone you’ll see again after tonight, right?”
“Uh, I don’t think I said ‘only’, I just meant—”
“Too bad,” Foggy says, as the countdown reaches its conclusion. “Happy New Year.”
Matt’s halfway through formulating a question or an objection of some kind, which is the only reason he turns in Foggy’s direction at that moment. It’s clear from the noise of surprise Foggy makes that he absolutely had no intention of kissing Matt right on the mouth and was probably, in fact, aiming for his cheek, trying to be funny and charming after Matt was such a spoilsport about the whole kissing at midnight thing. If Matt hadn’t moved, there’s no doubt in his mind that that’s what Foggy would have done and then it would have been over and they’d already be laughing about it and moving on. But Matt did move and, even awkwardly off center, Foggy is kissing him on the mouth right now and they’re both just frozen like that, shocked and useless.
Matt doesn’t give himself much credit for genius. He’s reasonably smart, and can be even smarter if he applies himself to a subject and really studies up on it, but there’s plenty of people in any given room smarter than he is, most of the time. He has his moments, though, and this is one of them. He sees very clearly the two paths available to them. Down one, this moment stretches awkwardly and they allow it to become a source of discomfort and then outright pain that they'll avoid talking about for years, or maybe possibly forever. Regardless, it has the power to ruin their friendship and Matt simply can't abide that. Down the other, they don’t flinch from it and they don’t make it any stranger than it has to be and it becomes one weird but not fully objectionable moment in their long and storied relationship. They’re not going to trot it out as an anecdote at parties, sure, but they’re not going to become crazy about denying it happened either. If Matt can steer them in the direction of the latter, he thinks maybe it will all be okay, but it’s going to require him not to make matters worse. For whatever reason, the only way he can think to not do that is by kissing Foggy back.
It’s immediately apparent that, momentary genius or no, while it does not technically make things worse, it also does not make them better. Then again, Foggy makes a sort of interested noise as he feels Matt return the kiss, which Matt is infinitely better off for knowing about and having heard and being able to think about some other time when he’s alone preferably. 
They don’t take it any farther than just that. They’re not necking in some random person’s hallway or doing anything truly objectionable. They just stay there, mouths pressed together so that Matt can smell (and sort of taste) the champagne Foggy’s had and the last cigarette he smoked and a hint of that sugary gum he always chews, even though he hasn’t had a piece since before they came to the party. It mostly feels, more than anything else, like they’re breathing together and it’s not sexy the way wild, passionate groping in the dark can be, but it’s intimate in its own unique way. Matt, against his own better judgment, puts a hand on Foggy’s cheek, and he doesn't really know why beyond just really wanting to and that seems to be reason enough.
Foggy doesn’t try to slip his tongue into Matt’s mouth—despite the alarming reality that the moment Matt realizes that’s not what he’s doing, he also realizes he’d let him—or try to escalate matters one bit. His hand is still grasping Matt’s collar from when he first pulled him in, but his other one doesn’t roam. His lips, still pressed to Matt’s, only move to exert a little more pressure and to alter the angle at which they meet slightly. He takes precisely zero liberties and makes no effort to get fresh with him at all. It’s very gentlemanly, and Matt doesn’t know what to do with himself because it doesn’t feel awkward or fumbling at all. It feels like restraint, and once he knows that, everything is different.
The tune of ‘Auld Lang Syne’ reaches him from the other room, but it’s drowned out almost entirely by the sound of Foggy’s heartbeat in Matt’s ears. Foggy must hear it too, though, because he breaks their kiss with the worst sort of gentleness, pulling back only enough for them both to have space to breathe but not far enough that Matt can’t feel that breath on his face.
Matt traces his thumb over the curve of Foggy’s cheek before dropping his hand back down into his own lap and licks his lips as he slowly turns away. 
“Happy New Year,” he says, aiming for calm and unaffected and likely missing it by a lot.
“You too,” Foggy says, even though he already said it first. His heart is still beating too fast and too close and too loud for Matt to read his tone, which is too bad, because he’d really like to know how Foggy feels right now and if he feels anything like Matt does.
Because Matt feels like he’s been hit over the head.
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yuichi-ro · 2 years
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◈ 𝘔𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘪 𝘚𝘢𝘴𝘢𝘬𝘪 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
◈ 𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you ask your husband to use his superpower on you for the first and last time
cw: fem!Reader, established marriage, hurt/comfort, canon divergent word count: 1.8k inspiration
◈ ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ/ʙʟᴀɴᴋ/ᴀɢᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ ʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ʙʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ◈
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You could see him better with just the nasal cannula now. Mask or cannula, neither were your favorite but the step down from the oxygen mask was a step in the right direction. One you took very seriously as Mirai laid there undisturbed by your return to his bedside. 
Wrong of you of course to assume he couldn’t guess you arrived. Not after over a decade together of course he didn’t need his foresight to know you’d be back so soon. Even if he was unable to see you fully without his glasses Mirrai still turned his cheek to the cold side of his pillow when you drug your chair back to the very edge of his hospital bed.
“Hey you.” A croak from your voice even after all the tears had been shed, the persistence of them still stuck in your throat. Leaning over to cup his face gently with a swipe of your thumb over his cheek, “You need anything? Did I wake you?”
A shift in the white linens but he still couldn’t bring himself to sit up too much. So all he could offer was resting the weight of his head into your palm with his yellow eyes shut again, “No. I was waiting for you.”
“The doctor said you should be resting,” You wiped your thumb over his cheek, staring with a heavy heart down at him still bed ridden for the fourth week in a row, “Not waiting for me.”
“Wasn’t waiting,” Mirai mumbled with a shake of his head and eyes closed, “Just- Knew you’d be back.”
“What did the doctor tell you about using your power,” You faux scolding with a bleak smile on your lips as you continued to rub his cheek and just enjoy the warmth of closeness from your husband as he remained bed ridden.
A brief little smile that curled up on the sides of his lips, Mirai tilted his head a little more and brought himself to open his eyes in your direction as the smile lingered, “I don’t need foresight when it compares to over a decade of knowing you.”
Seeing him able to at least look at you made your heart thud harder in your chest that before. Those tears that dried weeks ago still threatened to fall past your lashes at the moment when you looked down at him, “Then you should know I expect you to get out of this bed eventually. And come home.”
Mirai let out an exhausted sigh. One that let his body sink into the bed that cradled him and soon his eyes followed as he closed them again, “Let us be realistic love I-”
“You’ve been on the mend since the last surgery.” You stopped him in his tracks certainly not needing foresight after you’d both had this conversation a dozen times since the raid and the sub sequential harm that had befallen him and a few others. But your husband taking the worst of it in the fight against the League and the Shie Hassaikai, “You’re no longer on a ventilator. Your blood pressure is evened out. White blood cell count normal and no more bleeds. Mirai...you are on the mend. You just- You need to trust the process. Even if-”
“Even if I can never be a hero again.” Mirai spoke softly with his turned back up towards the ceiling. Eyes still closed and he laid there still as stone in bed, “...You can say it.” He broke the touch on his cheek even as you leaned in to try and hold his cheek again. Mirai simply refused it as he tilted his head away to face the wall, “All these futures...I didn’t check mine. And now- I’ve done this to you. Left you without a hero. Left you without-”
“Mirai Sasaki,” His name came so sternly from your mouth that in his moment of mourning he was forced to look around and see you staring at him with such intensity. But he could not ignore the way your bottom lip trembled as you proceeded to puff out your chest and speak louder than his thoughts, “The only way I’d ever be mad at you, is if you left me in this world. Heroes, work, I don’t care.” Your hand came back to his cheek and he didn’t attempt to move away as your presence filled the tiny hospital room as it did so many times before in the past, “I didn’t marry you because you were All Might’s sidekick. I married you because-” Your voice softened and the stray tears dribbling down your cheeks couldn’t be helped even as a big grin spread over your lips, “Because you’re my best friend. I married you. Not a hero. So...please, don’t leave me just yet.” Your smile made his heart monitor beep just a little faster and that in itself made you laugh even as the tears rolled down your cheek in the process, “I have a lot more things I wanna do with you first before I ever let you go.”
Heart too heavy with the words you spoke, Mirai’s yellow eyes searched your face like he was looking for something. Perhaps a lie to your words, which he knew wouldn’t be there. Or a falsity to your stubborn hope, that he couldn’t help but love as much as he did the first time you two argued. Mirai couldn’t find anything but your beautiful face above him like so many times he’d seen in the last decade. Rendering the organized man speechless in admiration of your gaze being set on him of all people.
“Mirai...” You grazed your thumb over his cheek when his eyes closed contentedly after your words.
“Hmm?” 
“...If you really think you won’t make it through this.” You couldn’t help shifting your touch upwards to comb your fingers through his abnormally unkempt hair, “I want you to use foresight on me.” No surprise he was about to open his mouth to object but you stopped him from uttering a single syllable, “If you are going to die then I want you to look as far into my future as you can so you can rest easy. So that you know where I’ll be when you’re gone.”
Eyes open but lips set in a stern line Mirai waited to back you down with a stare. Something he never had success with previously but as you sat there hunched over his bed carding your fingers through his unbrushed hair, the stare was all he had aside from his words to dissuade you, “No. I said I would never use foresight on you. I will not-”
“You can’t use it on yourself.” You firmly said, “So I can’t convince you that way. If you’re really going to...” The words sat on your tongue like a wad of cotton. Only making you shake your head and refuse to say it so you took a deep breath and did the impossible of staring Sir Nighteye himself down, “You give yourself closure. Then- I’ll accept it.” You watched him under you unable to persuade you with that stoic stare everyone else broke under. Meaning you’d rightfully won as your tone softened and you combed your fingers through his hair to a more neat manner like how he’d normally wear it, “You don’t have to tell me. Just- Do it for you.”
Short of hitting the nurses call button to have you removed, there was no getting out of this. On opposite ends not ready to settle. Mirai understood the conditions laid upon him for his passing. He couldn’t see anything for himself outside this hospital bed. And you were right, seeing you happy one last time would mean he could rest peacefully.
Meeting those yellow like you had the first time you’d both stumbled upon each other. You held his gaze. Never intimated like others were. Just as warm as his eyes were, they filled you with a comforted warmth like looking at the sun. Your free hand reached out to squeeze his wrist and before you knew it Mirai had taken the furthest out memory he could before it became fuzzy. Not once had he ever used his quirk on you out of respect. As you sat there letting him process what was vividly rolling for him and him alone in his mind. You saw as tears began to well up in the corners of his eyes. Mirai was unable to break eye contact as he leaned into your touch still holding his face. And his own hand coming up to touch your cheek lightly. 
“...well,” You said smiling as you tilted your head into his larger hand, “Gonna take that to your grave or spill the beans?”
Your way with words. Here he was fighting the tears as words escaped him. Just a constant loop of what he saw. It wasn’t long before Mirai was smiling and tiny droplets rolled off his cheek onto his pillow, “I...I saw it all. I-” His tongue darted out over his lip as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat, “-I saw you holding a little boy.”
“And?”
Mirai couldn’t believe the grand out grin that broke out on his face because even though you didn’t have his quirk you still somehow always seemed to know where to push him in the right direction, “He looked- Just like me.”
Turning your head to kiss his palm you reached up and laced your fingers up with his to give him a squeeze, “I ruined your plans again.”
A tired laugh pasted his lips. Mirai took in a big breath before relaxing back into the bed in a much more content manner than before, “You’ve never ruined my plans. Not once since I met you.”
“Plans change.” You rubbed your thumb over his knuckle as he gave your hand a squeeze out of reflex, “Even for the hero that can see the future.”
Mirai looked over at you smiling softly to himself, “I see you. That’s all the future I’ve ever needed.”
You stood up from your hard plastic hospital chair. Letting go of his hand gently just to hold his cheeks between your palms so you could kiss the center of his forehead before moving your face down and brushing your nose ever so lightly against his, “You’ll always be my hero no matter what and...you’ll be his hero too.”
No need to lean up to you. Mirai closed his eyes when you came closer to kiss him gingerly with the cannula only slightly in the way of the exchange, “Here you are, changing my future again.”
“Nothing is written in stone,” You smiled against his lips before pressing your forehead to his and cradling his face ever so gently in your palms, “At least, not if I can help it. So you’ll get better. And you’ll come home, you know why?”
Mirai looked up at you, his one weakness it seemed, and asked softly, “Why?”
“Because,” You grinned and kissed the tip of his nose, “I know you’re as excited to meet that little boy as I am.”
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