#and then after That I have to write a speech

[jordyn14]

Hey

Can you please write a Joe x wife reader where Joe and reader have been trying to get pregnant for a while and then reader finds out their pregnant and tells Joe in a cute way and he can’t contain his happiness

Pairing: Joe Burrow x fem first person

Words: 1600

Notes: since it’s my bday week and I’m having so much fun writing, I’m trying to get out fics a little faster this week! :)) thanks for the Request. <3

My eyes filled with tears as soon as I flipped over the pregnancy test and saw those two blue lines on the ClearBlue test. For 7 whole months Joe and I have been trying to get pregnant. We started after our wedding, hoping to see those two blue lines within two weeks, but two weeks turned into a month, and one into seven. Every single time we flipped over that test and saw one line and not two, we tried our best to stay positive, but it was hard. There were so many tears and I felt like we should just give up. I didn’t know how many more times I could take Joe’s same speech over and over again about how no matter how long it took, we would have our little family one day.

But now I was pregnant. I didn’t have to look into Joe’s eyes and tell him we weren’t pregnant for the millionth time. I didn’t have to stare into Joe’s blue eyes while he tried to hold back tears of sadness and watch as the hope was slowly draining from him.

As I looked up at myself in the mirror, tears rolled down my face and onto the counter under me. I was going to be a mom. It felt surreal to look at my stomach and realize that there was a little growing baby inside. I put my shaking hand over my mouth and I couldn’t stop looking at those 2 blue lines and at myself in the mirror. I couldn’t believe it. I felt like I was on top of the world and thinking about telling Joe in just a couple of hours when he came home from practice overjoyed me. “I’m pregnant.” I told myself, not able to contain my excitement.

For the next two hours, time seemed to be going so slow. Every time I looked at my phone and expected a half an hour to pass, only ten minutes passed. I was restless. I wanted to tell Joe so badly. I wanted to see the look on his face when he realized he was going to be a dad in just nine months. Not only were we going to be parents together, but I would get to raise a child with the most amazing man ever who isn’t just easy on the eyes, but is an incredibly person inside and out.

When I finally got the text from Joe saying he was on his way home, I practically sprinted upstairs and to my nightstand drawer where I kept a little mini Joe Burrow jersey and laid that down on the bed with the test on it. From the moment we started trying to get pregnant, I knew that I wanted to surprise him with his little jersey for our little son or daughter to wear when they’re born.

I sat on the bed and tried to pick through my different emotions. I was nervous, anxious, happy, worried, but mostly excited. Excited to be a mom. Excited to start our little family. From the moment I fell in love with Joe, I knew I wanted to create a family with him and now that was becoming a reality. Before we knew it, we’d have a little mini Burrow running around the house acting like a fool, and I couldn’t wait. Hey, maybe I was even carrying twins.

Before I knew it, I heard the front door swing open and just like clockwork, Joe said, “I’m home.” As soon as he said this, I couldn’t hold back the tears and started to cry some more. I just couldn’t contain the excitement. “Jordyn?” Joe called out, sounding a little worried, wondering why I wasn’t running over to give him a hug and ask him how his day was like usual. I wiped off a tear and sniffled back the tears a little bit. “Up here.” I answered him and stood up to meet him by the door. As I walked to the door frame, I could hear Joes footsteps getting closer and closer. My heart beat so incredibly fast in my chest and I couldn’t stop smiling.

As soon as Joe came into view and saw me crying, he dropped the bag that he was holding immediately. “hey, hey, are you okay?” He asked me and wrapped my in his arms. One hand was placed around my waist, pulling me closer to him, and the other was placed on the back of my head. With a smile, I wrapped my arms around his neck, running my fingers through his hair he decided to grow out for the season. “Everything is more than okay, Joey.” I said. Once I said this, Joe pulled back to look me in the eyes and once he did, I noticed the slightly confused look on his face.

Leaning forwards, I placed a small kiss on joes lips and then let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding in. “Go look on the bed.” I said. Joe looked past me and at the bed and noticed something laying on it, but I could tell he was still confused. Dropping my arms from around Joes neck, he slowly let go of me as well and walked closer to the bed. I followed after him, waiting for him to realize that he was going to be a dad.

A small gasp left Joe’s lips as the realization that I was pregnant set in. I couldn’t help but smile as he reached down and grabbed the pregnancy test. After a few seconds, I walked to the side of him and watched as he ran his fingers over the mini jersey while holding the pregnancy test in his other hand. As I studied Joe’s face, I started to get nervous. There was almost no emotion or expression on his face. What if he changed his mind about kids? What if he didn’t want me to be pregnant right now.

Before I started to freak myself out more, Joe looked over at me with those gorgeous, tear filled blue eyes. “Oh wow.” Joe said simply as his bottom lip began to quiver slightly. I sucked in a breath at his reaction and started to cry more myself. Joe put his hand on his chest and took a step back, taking everything in. He kept looking at me, then the pregnancy test, me, then the pregnancy test. “I’m going to be a dad?” Joe asked me excitedly. “You’re going to be a dad.” I said, wiping off a tear that streamed down my cheek. The both of us started crying more as he closed the distance between us and wrapped his arms around me. Without me expecting it, he picked me up off of the ground gently and spun around in a circle, a little excited laugh leaving his mouth. I giggled while up in the air before he placed me back down on the ground.

Once down on the ground, we both held each other so incredibly tightly, so overwhelmed with the news. I buried my head in Joe’s chest and I could tell he was crying quietly. Unlike every other time we flipped the test over, they were happy and relieved tears. After so long of trying and feeling like nothing would work, he was finally going to be a dad. “I can’t believe this,” Joe said and pulled his head back, revealing his red eyes and nose, “our little baby’s in here right now.” He said, letting out a deep breath while looking down at my stomach.

It was hard for me to talk because of the tears. I opened my mouth to say something, but I knew if I tried to talk I would cry harder. With a smile, Joe took his hands off of me for a second and swiped his thumbs under my eyes to catch the tears before holding my face gently in his hands. He nodded with a small smile, letting me know he understood what I wanted to say. Letting go of Joe, I did the same thing and swiped under his eyes, getting a laugh out of both of us before gently grabbing his wrists, the both of us just gazing into each other’s eyes. I took a deep breath and let it out with a small laugh.

“We’re gonna be parent’s, Joey. Can you believe it?” I asked him. Joe just shook his head and looked back at the pregnancy test. “No. No, not really.” He chuckled and sniffled a little. “At least we know why you were sick this morning before I left for practice.” Joe said. “I totally thought it was those crab legs, they looked a little bit odd.” I giggled. Joe laughed and nodded. “They did look a bit funky didn’t they?” As we looked into each others eyes, Joe looked at me like I was the most beautiful, fragile, perfect women on the entire planet before closing the distance and placing a kiss on my lips. When we pulled away, we rested our foreheads together while making eye contact. “I love you…and our baby,” Joe said and looked down at my stomach, “more than anything in the entire universe.” Joe said. “Even SpongeBob?” I joked with him. “Yes, even SpongeBob.” Joe laughed and nodded. “Well in that case, I love you…and this baby,” I said and glanced down at my stomach like Joe did, “more than anything in the entire universe as well Joseph Lee Burrow.” I said.

#joe burrow #joeburrow #cincinnati bengals #nfl #joe burrow bengals #joe shiesty #joey b #bengals #joey burrow #joe burr #joe burrow imagine #joe x reader #joe #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow x reader #fluff #nfl imagine #imagine #nfl fan fiction #pregnancy fic

[thoughtsforsoob]

could i request a soobin with enemies to lovers prompt? 🥹 i think i have an obsession with this trope atm

a/n: hello anon! i hope you enjoy this. i wasn't sure how i was going to write this but i made it happen! i love the enemies to lovers trope but i cannot write it for my life. please enjoy this! i hope it lives up to expectations. 

you and soobin were total opposites. he was this cool guys with a close knit friend group and lot’s of popularity. he had a set group of people that would eat lunch with him everyday. he was really smart too. he constantly made student of the month and was on track to secure the valedictorian spot for your graduation class. 

you on the other hand…you had only two friends you hung out with everyday and you lacked the popularity he had. you loved your friends group so it’s not like you were complaining or anything. you were also very smart. you were good at pretty much everything you teachers put in front of you. art, english, math, history. anything. 

this is where your story starts. you and soobin usually did not cross paths at all and if you did…it was because he was insulting your intelligence and lack of friends. he didn’t mean to hurt your feelings so deeply but little did he know, you would go home and cry into your pillow because of his hurtful words. he would put you down by both only questioning your intelligence but even your looks. saying things along the lines of, “well, we can’t all be good looking and smart”. When he’d run into you in the hall ways during passing period, he would humiliate you by screaming and then saying, “oh wait, it’s just you. i swear i just saw something straight out of a horror movie.” you would go home and curse him. how could he be so handsome and so mean at the same time? it’s not fair! 

you two were made to cross paths on this occasion because you were both called into the principals office. the principal organized this meeting to let you know you both were tied for the spot of valedictorian and that you both would have to share the honor if nothing changed with your grades. soobin took this as a threat and you, were just fine with it. he started going on about how it’s not fair that he had to share such a high honor with a girl. when you left the principals office, he let you know his intentions to raise his grades to beat you. when you just shrugged him off, he grabbed your wrist. you glared at him. “let me go! i’ll tell someone!” he sighed and rolled his eyes, “as if anyone would actually care.” he looks you up and down, “just back down. you’re too stupid to even formulate a speech to accept this award. why do you even want it so bad?” 

you pull your wrist back, “it’s none of your damn business! leave me alone. I'm not backing down and I'm not going to no matter what you say.” you turn and walk away, back to the class you had left for the meeting. he watches you walk away with a smirk. he was thinking of ways to get you to back down as he walked back to class. 

after school and clubs, he went to look for you. he was going to tell you again to back off when he noticed something strange. he was walking into the gym since he knew you’d be come with volleyball (let’s just say you play) but the gym was really quiet. among the quiet, he heard a small voice, begging the word ‘stop’ over and over. he finally recognized this voice as yours. as much as he pretended to hate you, he couldn't help but go over there and asses the situation. 

you were being back into a corner by a sophomore in your club. his name was Jake. he was much taller than you and much bigger. he’d been asking you on a date at every single club meeting for a whole month. Since he always made you feel uncomfortable and unsafe, you would always decline. he kept asking and asking until he finally got fed up and decided he was going to make you say yes. he decided to do this by backing you into a corner of the gym once everyone was gone after practice. you always stayed behind alone to clean up since your friends had to run off to their part time jobs after club. he decided today was the day and he started to back you into the corner. 

soobin hesitates but decided the right thing to do was to intervene. he walks up behind Jake and when you see him, you gasp. Jake was looking at you with a raised eye brow and suddenly feels a big hand grab his should and pull him back. “hey, Jake. what are you doing?” soobin puts on a fake smile and pat’s the younger boy’s shoulder. Jake rolls his eyes, “I'm asking her on a date and she’s not saying yes! can you believe this? who wouldn’t wanna date me?” Soobin finally stops smiling and does what he came there to do. he pushed Jake back and the younger boy stumbled, falling onto his butt. "you leave her alone. you hear me? i thought you know better than you harass girls who want nothing to do with you?” soobin grabs your hand and looks at you, “come on. let’s get any from this loser. he’s got a lesson to learn later on. i’ll be back for you.” soobin threatens. you follow soobin as he gently pulls your arm to lead you outside safely. he refuses to let go of you hand when asking if you were okay. "did he touch you? I'm sorry he did that to you.” he groan and pull your hand back.

“why do you care? you always talk shit to me. why did you even step in? you could definitely not care less about me.” you look down at the floor, kicking dirt around. you felt back for talking to him that way after he saved you but you couldn’t help it. why did he do this? he looks at you, “i wasn’t going to let him hurt you. no one deserves to be harassed by anyone. not even you.” you look up at him with softer eyes. you notice how he got shy when you looked in his eyes. you smile at him for the first time ever. "thank you. thank you for saving me from him.” he take his hands and look at him again. "are you shy?” you laugh when his face and ears to red. his body betrayed him. "hey, this is no fair, you’re touching me. how am i supposed to react when he pretty girl touches me?” 

you gasp, “pretty? now you’re just messing with me. don’t do that.” your smile turns into a frown and soobin panics. “hey! hey! I'm not kidding. I'm serious. i really do think you’re pretty. im sorry for all those times i said other wise. I'm sorry I've been such an ass hole to you. i’ve treated you like absolute shit for no reason. you’re too pretty to be treated like crap.” he panics when you start to tear up but he wipes your tears away. he goes as far as to pull you into his chest and hug you. you melt into him and hide your face in his chest. he let’s you cry for a while. 

finally, you look up at him with puffy, red eyes. “so…what now? am i gonna have to go home and cry into my pillow because you’re going to tell me you don’t like me the way i think you do?” he smiled at you and wiped your face again. “i don’t think so. i like you a lot. how about i go in there and help you finish cleaning and then i can walk you home? we can stop for some boba tea? my treat for being such an asshole.” you smile at him and hug him again. "sure. but…only if you’ll be my boyfriend.” he turns red once again and whines, “Hey! what’s with your love of flustering me?” you frown, “is that a no?” he shakes his head, “you’re already got me wrapped around your cute fingers, you know?” you smile at him and you both hug. he places a sweet kiss on your cheek and you turn red. 

#txt imagines #txt fluff #txt headcanons #txt x reader #txt reactions #txt texts #soobin x reader #soobin fluff #soobin txt #tomorrow x together #choi soobin

[lol-jackles]

I know its beens awhile but what did you think of S15 as a whole?

As a whole I think season 15 was an above-average season due to below-average execution and ended with a stellar series finale that added rewatch value not just for season 15 but also all of 15 seasons.

Season 15 started and ended with callbacks to previous seasons; from season 1's woman in white and Sam's goal of returning to a normal life, to season 5's Dean's time in hell as Alastair's apprentice and bringing closure to Adam Milligan, to season 8's endgames for Sam and Dean.

The first half of the season 15 was about free will vs determinism, with Sam representing the former and Dean representing the latter.  Sam and Dean’s confrontation with God parallels how they've reacted to family and authority their entire lives: Sam challenged God’s Divine decree over His Creation while Dean accused God of abandoning His Creation.  When Abraham spoke with his heart and mind to God over His plan to destroy Sodom & Gomorrah, it led to Abraham transcending himself, leading the way for God, and becoming the father of faith. Metaphorically it's all about lessons in honest, meaningful relationships with our fellow human beings.   People often suppress their true selves and principles for the sake of avoiding conflict instead of taking the relationship a step further into a place of sincerity.   From season 11 to 14, Sam and Dean spoke their hearts and minds to God and the brothers' relationship became at its strongest, never wavering even when occasional arguments sprouts up because they were honest with each other.

Sam and God became connected through Sam's hope which manifested in their identical wounds. Secular-based hope is about anticipating something good to come in the future.  Sam has hope in a better future, so Chuck showed him a bleak future to make his lose that hope.  Once Sam lost his hope, God leaves.  That’s pretty much what happens to people in real life, when they lose hope, they feel there is no God or God abandoned them. Another physical manifestation of a bleak future is Dean's old friend who retired from hunting, Lee, who became so corrupted that Dean is forced to kill him.

The return of Sam and Dean's half-brother, Adam, brings welcome closure.  Adam is not out for revenge as he acknowledged his own culpability for agreeing to vessel-ship in the first place.  Him and Michael only having each other for 10 years in the Cage led to their codependent-symbiotic-ish relationship that parallels Sam and Dean to some extent.  

I like to call the second half of season 15 the "Dean redemption tour" where side characters were used to address Dean's unresolved issues in order for him to be good enough for Sam in their eternal afterlife. Normally whenever Dean interacted with side characters it is about the side characters, not Dean (see example here and here). But when the formula is reversed, it becomes a bit disjointed, and the audience picked up on it. The final redemption act target Dean's anger issues that both Amara and Chuck discussed.

Chuck: This is my ending.  My real ending. 

Very next scene: *Dean pulls a gun on Sam*

Dean’s been so obsessed with having free will that he’s actually following Chuck’s writing.  As usual Sam broke through to Dean, in effect breaking Chuck’s influence. Then a very mad mad Chuck shows up.

Chuck:  “Are you kidding me? After all that, you did it again!”

Then 15x18 happened. Ignoring the hilarity of that scene, the speech was supposed to remind the general audience that Dean is A HERO before he dies two episodes later. By 15x19, free will vs determinism comes to a conclusion.   Michael and Lucifer betrayed the Winchesters and succumb to determinism, fulfilling their destiny to destroy each other.  Sam and Dean manipulated Michael to lure Chuck into a trap to replace him with a new God, Jack. Chuck is left only with human frailties and for the first time Chuck has no idea what happens next, bringing the free will theme to a full circle.  

Due to interactions with Sam, Rowena became the new queen of Hell while Jack becomes the new God of Heaven. Jack promises Sam that He will have a hands-off approach and people don’t need to pray or sacrifice to Him. Jack’s perception of humanity is distilled down to, “When people have to be their best, they can be.” 

Before the story ends, the protagonist is supposed to accomplish their primary goal that had kept them driven and move the story forward.  Sam’s goal was attaining normal life, it was never about eradicating monsters to extinction or avenging his mother’s death.  In fiction it always seems like the main character want many things, but there is always a primary goal.  Harry Potter gets dragged into many subplots such as conflicts with his best friends, romantic misfires, and incidents with secondary characters, however his main goal was always to defeat Voldemort and that's what the audience is holding out to see.  Sam Winchester’s journey is flipped from Harry Potter’s; Sam gets dragged into many subplots of saving the world, defeating the Big Baddies, and conflicts with his brother, however his main goal was always to have a chance at a normal life. But this can't happen while Dean is still alive.

Dean has everything he wanted: Sam and hunting.  Dean is a complete person; he doesn’t need anything else. But Sam had given up just about everything so that Dean wouldn’t be alone. 15x16 reminded the audience that Sam wanted out of the hunting life since he was a child. Sure, Sam is very good at his job and even became a leader, but they always made sure to show that Sam doesn’t have passion for the family business other than saving people’s lives.  Claire Novak shows way more enthusiasm for the job. But Dean would never retire from the hunting life.  Even when Michael gave Dean a fantasy life, Dean still conjured up monsters so he can fight and kill them.  As long as Dean is alive, Sam will never be free to pursue a normal life.  Think back to Dean's speech in season 8 telling Sam to pursue his normal life only after Dean dies with a gun in his hand and a smile on his face.

The pivotal barn scene in the 15x20 finale was genius, bringing the series to full circle with callback to the pilot, fleshing it out, adding backstory to Dean’s pov that brings his fear, need, relief, and love to stark relief.  It hurt like hell, and at the same time, cathartic because Dean was honest.   The way Dean said, “Come here. Let me look at you. There he is!”  That’s Dean in dad mode, the parental figure to Sam.  The show reminded the audience in 15x18 that Dean raised his little brother.  Still in dad mode, Dean then tells Sam that he is proud of him.  It’s what every son wants to hear from their dad.

Dean then goes into brother mode and tells Sam he admires his strength even when they were children.  Sam’s strength is such that Dean was afraid that Sam doesn’t need him. Fearing rejection, he stood outside of Sam’s dorm for hours before finally going to Sam because it’s always been Sam and Dean, and Dean can’t comprehend if he didn’t have Sam. 

From there Dean gives Sam his blessing to keep living his life.  “I love you so much, my baby brother”. Sam’s reaction was pure and raw, he has always been honest about his wants and needs but craves Dean’s approval to pursue them, and now he has it.  Sam’s faith in Dean went answered with Dean saying how proud he is of Sam, how much he admired Sam’s strength so that Sam knows he is strong enough to go on living without Dean.  

Another reason why the barn scene is genius is the pilot callback sets up Sam and Dean’s reunion in New Heaven as pilot 2.0.  From there they will build their relationship just as Sam and Dean.  They are at peace without monsters disrupting their lives, without vindictive angels disrupting their afterlives, and without childhood angsts weighing them down.  They have both freedom and peace.

This applies to all of the hunters.  Jack’s New Heaven is like a retirement home for hunters where they can enjoy their peace and socialize with their friends and loved ones and even upgrade themselves to the people they were meant to be on earth.

#Supernatural #Sam Winchester #Dean Winchester #season 15

[bonesashesglass]

Welp Senate officially passed the bill to ban TikTok.

I know a lot of people on this app hate TikTok, and believe me I get where that is coming from, but this is a huge violation of the first amendment and has horrifying implications for free speech.

It’s also very telling that they’re doing this right now. TikTok is one of the biggest ways that people in Palestine have to show the rest of the world what is happening. The government wants to take away this access and information.

It’s also one of the fastest ways people all around the world spread information. This is what a modern day book burning looks like.

The bill is going in front of the president tomorrow. He has the power to veto it, so write and call as soon as your can:

The number for the White House is:

202 456-1111

#TikTok #TikTok ban #Palestine #free Palestine #save Palestine #stand with Palestine #don’t stop talking about palestine #West Bank #Gaza #Gaza strip #free Gaza #save Gaza #social media #social justice #social activism #activism #human rights #solidarity #protest #United States #USA #us #us government #us congress #president Biden #Joe Biden #politics #censorship #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #washington dc

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Do you have any headcannon on Peh yah or Pah chin

Cause their my favorite duo even do they get very little screen time

I love them

Yeah I have a few, here they are!

Peh is jealous of Pochi

They have a secret high five and handshake routine 

Peh used to third wheel Yumi and Pah a lot on their dates. Until he officially started dating Yasuda, then they all went on double dates. 

Both of their families basically treat them like second sons

Peh always cheers very loudly for Pah during his arm wrestling matches 

They always put in a lot of effort of each other's birthdays 

Pah brought up Peh's bad letter writing to him when he eventually got out

They clung to each other even more after Yumi was forced to move away when they were kids. Knowing that they could also be forced to leave at some point, it made them cling to each other harder.

They often talk and debate about the silliest scenarios

As kids they would occasionally try to study together but it never went well as they always got distracted.

Peh tried to give Pah an encouraging speech before his wedding 

They will throw hands with anyone who says the third division isn't the best division 

In the good timeline their estate business is very successful

Peh has to help out a lot at home, Pah will sometimes help out with this. 

They cried during their reunion after Pah got released 

#tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo rev #pah chin #peh yan #tokyo revengers spoilers

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

#yeehaw #1k #5k #10k #posts that got cursed. blasted. im making these tag updates after... 19 hours? #also i have been told it should say speech loss bc nonverbal specifically refers to the permanent state. did not know that! #unfortunately i fear it is so far past containment that even if i edited it now it would do very little. but noted for future reference #edit 2: nvm enough ppl have come to rb it from me directly that i changed the wording a bit. hopefully this makes sense #also. in case anyone is curious. though i doubt anyone who is commenting these things will check the original tags #1) my friend did not do this on purpose in any way. it was not intended to distract me or to hit on me. im a lesbian hes a gay man. cmon now #he felt very bad about it afterwards. i thought it was hilarious but it was very embarrassed and apologetic #2) “why didn't he use 🫵🏼?” didn't exist yet. “why didn't he use 🆗?” dunno! we'd been using a lot of hand emojis. 👌🏼 is an ok sign #like it makes sense. it was just a silly mixup. also No i did not invent 👉🏼👌🏼 as a gesture meaning sex. do you live under a rock #3) nonspeaking episodes are a recurring thing in my life and have been since i was born. this is not a quirky one-time thing #it is a pervasive issue that is very frustrating to both myself and the people i am trying to communicate with. in which trying to speak is #extremely distressing and causes very genuine anguish. this post is not me making light of it it's just a funny thing that happened once #it's no different than if i post about a funny thing that happened in conjunction w a physical disability. it's just me talking abt my life #i don't mind character tags tho. those can be entertaining. i don't know what any of you are talking about #Except the ppl who have said this is pego/ryu or wang/xian. those people i understand and respect #if you use it as a writing prompt that's fine but send it to me. i want to see it #aaaand i think that's it. everyday im tempted to turn off rbs on it. it hasn't even been a week

[becca-e-barnes]

It's been a really busy week so I'm just going to indulge myself and talk about exactly what I'd love to be doing rn with CEO!Bucky

When I imagine CEO scenarios though, I don't think of the reader as his assistant or an intern. Maybe the CEO and his comms director. Someone he considers an equal because I think that's a hell of a lot more sexy and still has a power imbalance 🥵

He knows you're incredibly capable. He knows you've got more drive than anyone else in the company. He knows you've spent years pushing yourself to get to where you are and you're determined to keep climbing.

But at the same time; it's nice to get a break from that too. Sometimes it's nice to just be tossed around and given orders. You get to switch your brain off and give in to whatever feels good.

And that's how you found your knees hitting the plush grey carpet of the CEO's office on a Friday afternoon.

"Good girl. So fucking pretty." Bucky's hand on your chin directs your face upwards. He's continuing the task you started a few minutes prior; stroking his own cock at a leisurely place and enjoying the sight of you in front of him with your blouse missing the top few buttons.

There's nothing else you'd rather be doing right now. There's no other release that lets you unwind like this. You don't have to think about anything other than the glossy bead of precum gathering on the tip of your boss' dick and the way that even the sight of it makes your mouth water.

His other hand is still holding your chin but you don't want to just watch when you can do so much more than that. You lean over, taking the head of his cock in your mouth, flicking your tongue over the very tip to lap up the precum you've been craving.

Your hand replaces his, jerking his length slowly with a measured pressure while your tongue swirls, keenly licking away any fresh evidence of his arousal.

"Fuck." He groans, melting into your eagerness. He's had a long week too. You know he needs this as much as you do but he's just as respectful as ever, conscious not to press himself into your waiting mouth.

"I bet you're wet already, aren't you? You look like such a sweetheart. No one would ever guess that you get off on sucking my cock. I bet everyone thinks you're so innocent but they don't get to feel the way you drip down your own thighs after you swallow my cum." You imagine that mouth of his has got him in plenty of trouble over the years but fuck, you love it. You swear he could probably get you off just by talking to you.

You hum happily, taking as much of his length into your mouth as you can manage, wincing slightly the first time his tip nudges the back of your throat. Your flat tongue rolls against the underside of his length, your hand cupping his balls and you feel his palm settle on the back of his head.

"You're so fucking keen." His blunt fingernails scratch gently against the nape of your neck and it feels like such a tender gesture. You get to be unashamed of how keen you are with him. There's no embarrassment or reservation. You don't have to hold yourself back to save face and it's refreshing to want someone this much.

You head bobs on his length, your lips forming a perfect tight ring and every now and again, you're rewarded with the sharpness of some fresh precum smeared onto your tongue.

"You should slow down, sweetheart. I don't want to finish yet." His voice is a little strained and it's beautiful. Now you're torn though. You don't want this to end but you're desperate to feel hot ropes of his cum splash over your waiting tongue and across your face.

Somewhat selfishly, you do as you're told. Your body reminds you of your own desperation and you don't want to ruin your chances of getting bent over that desk.

#becca writes spice #becca's thots #ceo!bucky #dom!bucky #I survived the big scary thing I had to do this week besties #I'm told my speech had a few people teary eyed #big win #and I quite like the house I went to view this week #plenty of potential #gonna put an offer in if dad thinks it looks okay #I'm getting my new glasses tomorrow too #and I'm really excited to get my hair done #I'm so over the pink rn #I'm sick of looking at it #but I'm booked in to do some recording on Friday and I thought I'd have to cancel my hair appointment on Friday afternoon #which sucks because my hairdresser is always booked a month out #but I got talking to the videographer last Friday night and I was joking that the time he'd set for filming was so inconvenient #but he's fine with setting a time on Friday evening after my hair cut so I wouldn't have to reschedule my appointment #AND my hair would look nice for the video #I just thought it was really sweet #he calls me 'one take becca' because it takes him longer to set up than it takes me to get my pieces recorded #legend

[clowningaroundmars]

morales twins vigilantes: getting found out pt 2

okayyyy this part's a slight bit longer but hopefully, uh, worth it lol

kinda made myself tear up a lil at the end ahahaha

also pls don't ask when this takes place, like either in between istv and atsv or atsv and btsv.... idk bro LMFAO this is technically a whole other au in and of itself soooo yuh

disclaimer: i'm a whole ass anarchist, however miles and milo are two teenage boys who've grown up with a cop dad and they play a lil lip service to the police force during their big speech so... yeah i don't support the existence of the police force, but it is what it is. characters don't reflect author's beliefs and all that

>1st part here<

Jeff happened to be lucky enough to be pardoned for the rest of the night, and he also opted to use some PTO on this very very important occasion, so he sped off in the squad car with his sons in the back immediately after visiting the police department and signing off on some papers. He did not utter a word until they all got back home safely.

In the car, it was eerily silent as Jeff fumed in the front. Miles practiced what he was going to say over and over in his head, picking at his suit and avoiding his twin brother’s eyes. Milo held what remained of his mask in his hands, gauntlets off and tucked between his feet on the floor of the car. They both hung their heads low, counting down the minutes until they got back home and had to face their inevitable death sentence.

They were in so much trouble. Yikes. This was exactly what Miles dreaded for so damn long now, and it almost felt like a dream the way it happened so quickly.

Back home, both boys were sat down in the dining room area behind the couch, waiting for their mother to come back from her night shift. Milo was given an ice pack for his head and some painkillers, and then they were both sternly ordered to take off their respective suits.

Miles turned inquisitive eyes towards his dad.

“If your mom comes in and sees you two wearing those outfits right after work, that woman will have a heart attack and faint. Take ‘em off,” was Jeff’s sharp explanation.

They were not gonna argue with that. To the bedroom they both went.

“And then you both come right back out the second you change, got it?”

“Yeah dad, got it,” was Miles’ unenthused mumble before closing the door.

Miles turned back around with his mask in his hands, and immediately threw it at Milo.

“What were you thinking?!?!” he hissed, arms flying up into the air, making grabbing motions at his twin brother’s neck. “You absolute idiot, my god, we are so. Freaking. Dead!!”

Milo ducked back, scowling. “Me?!” he hissed back, keeping his voice at a harsh whisper as well. “What did you want me to do, pendejo, just let our dad fry, just like that? I didn’t see you moving to stop the guy!”

They were both snapping at each other, hands flying everywhere as they argued in harsh tones and whispers. They only stopped when they heard a loud knock on the door.

“Don’t take all night, either,” came their father’s booming voice from behind the wood.

Miles hung his head. Milo rolled his eyes and moved towards the closet, ripping his jacket off and kicking off his shoes. “Yes dad,” they both intoned at the same time.

A few glares were exchanged as clothes were tossed onto the floor, and Miles sighed loudly as he pulled on a pair of pajama pants, throwing himself onto his bed to get them up his legs all at once. He glanced at his bedside alarm clock, knowing his mom would be home any minute now. He felt his heart beat in his chest much louder and faster than usual.

Milo pulled on a hoodie over his head, gingerly easing the fabric over his bruised chest.

“Did the blast hit your chest too, man?” Miles asked quietly, eyes playing over the mess of a bruise over slightly-scarred skin, wincing a bit.

Milo exhaled sharply. “Shuddup.”

Miles frowned. “You have to let mom know about that soon. Don’t ‘shuddup’ me.”

“Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

Miles knew his brother was sulking, but that really looked… bad. If he was responsible for not only dragging his brother into vigilantism, but also putting him in the hospital as well, he had no idea how he was getting out of this one alive. He was probably never going to see the light of day until college. Maybe not even then.

Once ready, both boys stood side-by-side in front of the door, hesitating. They both glanced at each other, then back at the door.

This was it, they both thought. The moment of truth. This was the night where it was all gonna go down, and their painstakingly-kept secret would finally be revealed to their parents. D-day. My god. He didn’t even know if the speech he prepared in the car on the way home was even gonna suffice against their mother’s explosive anger. She was gonna have a cow the second Jeff told her. Damnit.

Guess I can kiss the whole Spider-man thing goodbye, Miles thought, the very idea leaving a very heavy weight in his chest that he just couldn’t ignore. He leaned forward to turn the knob and swing open the door. With one last glance back at his brother, he stepped out. Then his brother followed him slowly, ice pack pressed to the side of his head again.

It was like a funeral procession the way they marched solemnly back to their chairs placed side-by-side by the table. Jeff leaned on the doorway to the hallway with his arms crossed sternly over his chest, still in his police uniform, hat already hung up.

As if on cue, Rio’s keys jangled against the door, and she stepped inside once the lock clicked open. Her slightly tired expression changed in an instant once she hung up her bag and walked into the apartment.

“Hello boys, I’m home!” She announced, a bit surprised. Not only were her husband and two sons all home at the same time, but they were all hanging around to watch her come home after work at such a late hour. Granted, it was summertime and the weekend, but still. Weird.

Jeff had texted her that something important came up and that she needed to be home ASAP, but didn’t elaborate further. She didn’t know what to expect when she got back. She crossed her fingers and hoped that it wasn’t that bad, if her husband texted her instead of calling. If it was an emergency, surely he would’ve called.

Right?

Her eyes widened once she saw the ice pack Milo held against his head, and quickly made her way over to him.

“Qué pasó?” She kneeled next to her boy, checking him over quickly.

Milo winced and tried to dodge his mother’s hands, holding a protective arm over his chest that no one missed. “Ma, stop. I’m fine, seriously. It’s… it’s fine.”

“Is it? What is going on, why is everyone so… so sad right now, and what are you two doing sitting here like this? Jeff…?” She turned to face her husband but he was already making his way back to the boys’ bedroom, scooping up their respective vigilante costumes and heading back out with the incriminating evidence in both hands.

Once he got back to the table, he tossed them onto the surface and crossed his arms again.

For a second, no one moved. The whole world held its breath for one precious moment.

Then, with deadly calm in her tone, Rio slowly stood up and placed her hands on her hips. “...What are those things?”

Both boys braced for impact.

“Well?”

Miles swallowed hard, hands gripped together tightly. “Uhm. They’re. They’re… our outfits. Y’know… for fighting crime.”

Rio gaped at her sons.

“He’s Spider-man, mom. Miles is Spider-man,” Milo clarified solemnly. His chin was at his chest now, avoiding eye contact with his mother.

“...And you’re the Prowler.” Rio finished.

She took a step back and exhaled, running her hands through her hair and rubbing her face. “Oh… oh my god. Dios mió, me voy a morir. I knew it, but still... me voy a morir!” ¹

Finally, Jeff spoke up behind her. “They’re not Halloween costumes, either. Guess where I found ‘em tonight?”

With tears in her eyes, Rio looked back at her husband, a pleading look on her face. “Don’t tell me,” she begged. But Jeff continued anyways.

“I took tonight’s shift on as a bit of extra, and when I was called to take care of an electric freak close to downtown, I found these two at the scene already.”

Finally, Rio exploded. “What?!?”

The twins flinched.

Jeff exhaled and pressed on, licking his lips. “Yeah, and not only that, but Milo here took on a direct blast of electricity to the face. He jumped in front of me and put himself in harm’s way!”

Scandalized, Milo leaped up from his seat, wincing only a little bit. “Wait a minute, I did it to protect you! That’s my job!”

The anger fizzled out immediately once both parents swung their withering glares around back to him, rage hot enough to almost burn two holes into his skull. Miles pulled Milo’s hoodie sleeve and quietly hissed, “stop making it worse!”

Milo clammed up and quickly sat back down, pouting.

“Your job?” Rio shot back incredulously, laughing angrily.

“That is not your job, Milo! That is mine! My job! I wear this badge every single day so that I can protect the people of Brooklyn. You are a kid with homework and chores to do, not fighting dangerous bad guys on the streets like some kinda—” Jeff worked himself up but then stopped, as if he suddenly ran out of steam. He placed his hands over his head, clearly stressed, and exhaled loudly.

“How long?” Rio’s tone was sharp.

They were definitely not getting out of this alive. Damn. Rest in power, Morales twins.

Miles shuffled his feet, hesitating. “Uhm—”

“Speak up, Miles. How long have you two been running around behind our backs and lying to us like this? Huh?”

Miles sighed. “I, uhm. We’ve been doing this… for a while now.”

“A while?”

“…A -a year.”

“A YEAR?!”

“I mean I’unno about Miles, but I’ve only been doin’ this for like a couple months, so…” Milo mumbled half-heartedly beside his brother. That comment earned him another set of glares, including one from Miles.

“A year. A year! A year, that’s how long you’ve been lying to us?” Jeff was pacing now, clearly stressed out. He was mumbling things under his breath that both boys would rather not know anything about.

Miles jumped up from his seat, seizing the opportunity when he could. “Wait-wait-wait-wait-wait, guys. Mom, dad. Listen to me, please,” he begged, hands splayed out in front of him.

He took a breath. He opened his mouth.

“Until college.” Rio interrupted, holding a finger up. “Both of you. Grounded! Until college! You will both be adults before you ever go out without my permission ever again!”

Miles deflated. “O-kay but mom, please! Hear me out first!”

Rio held a hand up. “I don’t wanna hear it! I cannot believe that both of my sons would lie to me like this! For an entire year, no less! Dios, dame paciencia, coño!” ² She shook her head as she held her face in her hands. “Do you two know what you’re doing to me? Look at me, I’m getting grey hairs as we speak!”

Jeff immediately took her side. “Do you realize what you’re doing to your mother? You’re killing her! And you--” he rounded on Milo all of a sudden, jolting the poor boy into sitting up straight. “You are killing me! You’re going around wearing those godforsaken gloves around, punching bad guys just cuz you wanna feel like a big man, huh? Do you know what that does to me?!”

Milo visibly prickled up, hunching in on himself. “I’m not doing it for me,” he bit out angrily.

“Then for who, huh?”

“I wanted to save the little guys on the street... when the cops couldn’t. I wanted to help Miles.” Milo sounded tired, and for a split second he looked much older beyond his years. Both of his parents softened for only a fraction of a second before Jeff rubbed his eyes and turned back to Miles.

"And who made you Spider-man all of a sudden? What happened a year ago? Tell me the truth. I don't want any detail left out!"

Ah, interrogation mode already, Miles thought humorlessly.

He sighed and dutifully got started on the whole backstory, careful to leave out the fact that he was with Aaron the moment he got shot, skipping to the part where he "found" his uncle's nearly lifeless body in that alleyway that fateful day. It was a harmless enough lie… Miles presumed. Right?

"Did you… then... h-how did you see who shot Aaron, Miles? Were you there?" Jeff asked quietly, also looking as tired as Milo did. Miles paused, not expecting the question.

Rio shot him a look. "Jeff, mi amor, please. Now is really not the time." She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Right now, we have to talk about this... this... situation we have going on here. What's next?"

Miles shrugged, palms facing forward as if to say and the rest is history. "I'm... pretty sure you guys know the rest. Dad... you were uh, there. At the collider. I stopped Kingpin and then I just. Well, yeah. Y'all have already watched all of the news stories and the videos. So," he finished lamely.

Then, a surge of confidence as he looked at the concerned expressions dawning on his parents' faces. It's now or never.

"...B-but I love being Spider-man! Dad, you've seen me out there, the way I fight, the fact that you guys have less to deal with cuz I'm out there kicking ass!"

Oops. Wrong words.

Miles' confidence deflated as soon as those concerned and sympathetic looks turned into ones of anger.

"Kicking ass?! More like getting your ass kicked, little boy! How many NewTube videos are out there of you getting crushed by cars," Jeff started to count off of his fingers, "hit by buses, tossed in the air, punched and flung halfway across the block--"

"Jeff, please!" Rio cried, wobbling a bit. She pulled out the chair closest to her from the table and slumped down into it, rubbing at her temples.

"S-sorry, hon..." Jeff placed an apologetic hand on his wife's shoulder.

Rio sighed deeply.

"I get it. I know. But dad..." Miles steeled himself this time. "When you put on that badge every single day and you go out into those streets to protect the city, you think you're never gonna get shot at? Jumped? It is literally your responsibility to put yourself in the way of danger so no one else has to." He turns to the table and grabs his mask.

"For me," Miles continues, "this is my badge. Okay? I put this on every single day and swing out into the streets so people can shoot at me, or ask me for directions, or wait for me to get weird guys in stupid costumes away from the train tracks. I do this every single day, because if I don't, who will? Peter is dead--" ...wow, that feels weird to say.

"Miles..." Rio's big brown eyes gaze sadly at her boy, standing tall with this awful mask in his hand. A mask that she desperately wished wasn't his.

"Mom. Peter is dead. He is. Okay? If I don't step up and take his place, knowing what I can do? Then I might as well not even be alive at all." He tosses his mask dramatically back onto the table to punctuate his point. "I can shoot webs from my wrists and I have strength like y'all wouldn't believe. I can stick to walls and do everything that Peter Parker was able to do before he passed away. If I just sit here doing nothing with these abilities while everyone struggles to live their lives every single day, letting bad guys with superpowers do whatever they want, then what's the point of anything? The exact same reason why I put on this suit to go fight crime is the exact same reason why you do, dad." Miles turns to his father now. "You have your suit, I have mine."

Milo jumps in, enthused. "And the reason why I put on my mask is because of him. And the civilians, too... of course. But it's not because I 'wanna feel like a big man', dad. It's because it drives me crazy seeing my own brother taking on all of this responsibility on his shoulders all by himself. Miles is gonna do crazy things now that he got bit by a super-spider, right? We literally cannot stop him, even if we tried. Trust me. Might as well go along with him and support him so he doesn't get himself killed out there. That's why I do this. Every single day."

Jeff opens his mouth to say something, but is then cut off by Rio's own small, sad voice. "... Why does it have to be you two?" She asks quietly.

She looks so small sitting there on their wooden dining room chair, and a million times more tired than when she came in through the door. She wasn't even out of her own nurse's uniform yet, either. Miles felt a pang of sympathy for her.

Miles... did not know the answer to her question either. He really didn't. Why was it him-- out of all of the people in Brooklyn-- that got bit by that spider? Clearly, the universe had a grand, elaborate joke planned for him. That was really probably the only explanation for it all. But, no. No, there had to be something else in the cards for Miles. After all, he was bitten by the spider while out with his uncle who was secretly the Prowler, and he was present for not only Peter Parker's death, but that same uncle as well.

He squared his shoulders. And then told the truth.

"I... don't know," he admitted. "But... I do know this. Growing up, I always knew Spider-man was there to answer the call no matter what. He didn't pick this life of battling bad guys that wanna tear the city up all the time, a spider bit him, too. But he made me promise something before he died, and I have to live up to that promise. What else am I gonna do when I'm able to pick up cars with my bare hands?"

Granted, it was only a promise to stop the collider from opening a black hole inside of the city they lived in, but. Details. Anyways...

Rio hid her face in her hands again.

Miles softened his tone, sitting down. "This is something I worked really, really hard for and it's important to me. Milo... is kinda right. You can ground me. Until college. Or whenever. But as long as I've got these powers," he held his hands open, propping his elbows on his knees and meeting his mom's eyes, "and there's people out there that need saving? I gotta do what I gotta do, mami."

Milo leaned forward, too. "Yeah. Same here. He's not alone. The same reason we do this stuff is cuz... ever since we were little, we also watched you guys answer the call, no matter what. I never met Spider-man, before... y'know, but it doesn't matter. We do this for New York City."

Neither of their parents spoke for a bit, digesting all of this information in solemn silence. The anger from earlier all but melted away as they ruminated over all of this. All this time, their little boy was running around in a spandex costume, swinging around, punching bad guys and lifting fallen buildings off of people. There was... a hint of pride underneath all of the fear and anger and betrayal and anxiety, even Rio couldn't lie.

But god, how would things ever be the same again after knowing that the very hero who swung from building to building and knocked villains down before webbing them up was the very same boy with the brightest brown eyes they've ever seen; the boy who brought home A's on his test like he won a medal, the same boy who sang horribly off-key while doodling all over his sketchbook, who refused to tie his shoelaces and drove Jeff up the wall when he found graffiti and stickers all around the city in Miles' name? It was impossible... Rio's heart broke into two pieces.

And Milo... a tougher counterpart to her little ray of sunshine, but just as sweet. The same boy who would feed stray cats on the block, beam like a ray of light after winning a boxing match against a tough opponent, who would hide behind Rio at parties and join her happily to watch the latest episode of the new telenovela they both got hooked on... that same boy was wearing those gloves, swinging around the city looking like a bad guy himself. Rio's shattered heart gained another huge crack before finally breaking into three pieces.

Finally, she sighed again.

"You have superpowers?" She asked, hesitantly.

"... I... yeah, I do." Miles answered, fearing that this was a trick question.

Rio nodded sadly. "Of course. Of course..."

Jeff spoke up, now kneeling beside his wife, caressing her hand clasped in between both of his. "Just because you have superpowers, doesn't mean you're invincible. Miles, we do this because we care about you. Maybe we won't be able to stop either of you from putting yourself in harm's way... I mean, hell, nobody can stop me. But... god, isn't there any other way?"

Miles raised a brow. "Any other way to...?"

Jeff blew out a breath. "I-I dunno, can't you use your super strength to... well, maybe help the transportation department move some tracks around, build some new stations... that'd help the city. Swing around and deliver medicine to people for free? God, I don't know. I just don't want either of you to jump in front of bullets for other people... man..." he shook his head.

Miles and Milo exchanged glances. "I... I know it's tough to accept this," Miles started, unsure of what to say. "Maybe I can scale back the dangerous stuff some but... I... can't just stand around directing traffic when someone's getting mugged. Or a bank is getting robbed. Dad, I just can't. Maybe you guys will hate it every time I put the suit on and swing outside but... I can't give this up now. I'm sorry." He dipped his head apologetically.

Another long stretch of silence.

A clock ticks on the wall in the kitchen, and the ice maker in the fridge starts humming again. It's all so painfully domestic, painfully ordinary, it's almost an insult to the people living in this apartment facing these serious revelations all at the same time. It sure is a sharp contrast to the solemn mood settling all over everyone right now.

Rio looks deeply into Miles' eyes, then Milo's. After a while, she turns to face Jeff. "Jeff. You will not like what I'm about to say."

Jeff returns her look with one of confusion. "Honey..."

Rio shrugs, a small gesture but one that makes Miles and Milo's hearts skip a beat. "Mi vida, these are our boys. They have... this big responsibility now, to the people here in this city. Just like you. Just like me," she swallows and continues. "You and me? We've seen what Miles is capable of. Well, the both of them. And as much as it hurts, it would probably hurt even more if we kept them both back from being the heroes they need to be. What we need to do now is... we need to support them. We love them. They need us. We need them! Qué más puedo decir?" ³

Jeff looked deeply into his wife's eyes and then inhaled deeply. Not quite a sigh. That was maybe a good sign?

He stands up.

"...Boys."

The twins took their cue. They both stood up, too. Milo quickly discards his ice pack on his chair. Rio joins them, leaning on Jeff for support.

"When police officers get sworn in, they usually just have to do paperwork nowadays. Not too much of the whole bells and whistles due to high turnover rates, but tonight... if either of you want to continue to fight crime in this city, you both have to put your right hand up. Right now."

Miles could cry. Milo bit his lip to try and hide his grin, and they both dutifully raised their right hands at the same time. Jeff does the same, and reaches his left hand out to take Miles'. Rio takes Milo's.

"Pretend we are the Bible. Not paperwork. The Bible."

Both boys nod with all the seriousness they could manage, looking their father in the eyes.

"Do you solemnly swear on your mother and father's life that you will uphold the law and do right by the citizens of Brooklyn, New York, so help you God?"

"I mean... the law law? Cuz sometimes we--" Milo started, immediately earning an elbow to the side. He shut up.

"Yes, the law. I will not be having the DA of New York City up in my home lookin' for you two in case anyone gets badly hurt. I don't want him in my office, either." Jeff gives them both a look.

Miles pipes up. "Yes, we swear, so help us God."

"Milo?"

Milo nods emphatically. "Yes, I swear, so help me God."

Jeff nods once.

"Mijos. You will both be allowed to go and fight crime outside, con mi bendiciones. But. But... you will both also do it under two conditions. If either of you break my rules, you will have wished that spider never bit you," Rio glared at Miles. Then to Milo, "and you will have wished you never stole your uncle's gloves from his apartment. Got it?"

Both boys nodded, still holding onto their parents' hands.

"So, my two rules are this. Only two. Easy to remember, okay? Number one. Milo, you will take care of your brother as best as you can. Miles, you will take care of Milo as best as you can. Both of you will always be seen together when going out and doing hero things, do you understand?"

"Yes, mamí" the boys say simultaneously.

"Never, ever go out alone, ever. Neither of you will be alone for even a second, especially during the nighttime. Promise me this."

Miles puts his right hand down to take his mother's other hand in his. "Yes, mom. I promise. We both promise."

Rio bows her head. "...And as for my second rule."

"Do we have to have a curfew?" Milo asks quietly. Everyone shoots him a look again.

"No, no curfew." Before the boys could get excited, she quickly adds, "except for on school nights." They both calm back down.

"Your education is always, always more important. Don't forget this," she lets go of their hands to hold up a finger. "But as for my second rule? No more secrets between us. All of us. Okay? You tell me exactly when it is you leave to go and do what you need to do, and exactly when you come back. Promise me this, too."

This time, it was Miles' turn to start saying something dumb. "I meaann, like every single time? Cuz sometimes it's not really a one-and-done kinda thing, like a shift or--"

Everyone glares at Miles. Miles promptly shuts up.

"...Sí, mamí. Te prometemos todo eso." ⁴ Milo answers seriously.

Rio sucks in a breath. "Okay. Okay..."

She looks as if she's about to burst into tears, so everyone draws in tightly for a group hug. Rio sniffles against Milo's shoulder and Jeff leans his chin on Mile's head. Miles laughs wetly.

"Geez, y'all are crying? Man, for what? Ain't nobody dying or anything..." Milo interjects suddenly, causing the whole mood to dissipate all at once. Everyone laughs incredulously.

"Boy, if you don't know how to read a room..." Jeff starts, a warning tone laced into his playful grin.

"Man, I was just trying to lighten the mood! Damn, I mean shouldn't we be celebrating? Miles literally has super strength, you guys. Like c'mon, right? That is literally the coolest thing in the whole world!"

Rio groans, tossing her head back. "Mira esté, 'coolest thing in the whole world'... déjame agarrarte, maldito cabron..." ⁵ she mutters sarcastically, moving to grab at Milo's neck in the exact same way Miles did not even an hour earlier. He playfully dodged out of the way, putting his arms up to block, out of habit.

"Cabron?! Mom, you're so mean!" Milo complained.

"C'mere!"

Jeff leans in and interrupts their banter. "Milo. Son. You have to sit with me on the couch now, cuz we have to have a little chat about how you got your hands on those gloves, actually..." He grabs at one of Milo's arms, his smile just a tad bit too wide. Milo gulps.

Jeff continues, steering them both away from Miles and Rio. "And we also have to talk a bit about the history behind those things, too..."

Rio turns to Miles and cups his cheeks in her hands, looking into his eyes. "Do you actually, actually swear to me that you will try your hardest to stay safe?"

"Yes, mom, I do! We said it like a hundred times."

"Your father was right. Just because you have super strength now--"

"And super-healing."

Rio stares at him for a beat.

Miles squirms nervously. "...What? I do!"

"Super-healing, sure. Uh huh. If I catch you with bullet holes inside of you, I am not taking you to the ER then, Mr. Invincible."

"Ouch. Harsh."

"I warned you! I'm smiling like I'm joking but I'm really not!"

"Okay, okay, geez. C'mon, ma. It's really not that big of a deal. I don't get shot at as much as you'd think! Seriously! I'm fast. And... and I've been doing this for a while now. You have to trust me, okay?"

Rio sobered up. "I know. I know. I just... mi amor, I am your mother. I worry about you. You know... I've been taking care of my two little boys for so many years now. I just... I care about the both of you even when you two drive me completamente loca! I trust that you can both handle yourselves, I really do. It's just hard. It is. I-it'll... take some time to get used to."

Miles nodded. "Growing up is tough. I get it."

Rio smacked him on the shoulder.

"Ow! What, it's true! We're all growing up right now, I'm not a little kid anymore and... and you're not the mom of two little kids now. It's just... it's a transitional period! Life's tough!" Miles shrugs, smiling warmly.

Rio smirked, crossing her arms. "Uh huh. It sure is."

Then, she opened her arms for another hug from Miles, which he happily returned.

"I mean it, Miles. Whatever happens, I want you to keep yourselves safe. And ask for help. Papí, your father is a police officer. And whatever you need, whatever you need... I'm here, too."

Miles beamed at his mother with tears in his eyes.

"I know, mom. Thank you."

☆ translations:

¹ "my god, i'm going to die."

² "god, grant me patience, fuck!"

³ "what more can i say?"

⁴ "yes, mom. we promise you all of that."

⁵ "Lookit this guy, 'coolest thing in the whole world'... lemme get my hands on you, fucking bastard..."

#mine #miles morales #miles g morales #spiderverse #i'm getting soft..... deadass tearing up at the end while writing and editing GOD how embarassing #ugh anyways #hope all that wasn't like ooc or anything #i know miles will eventually have to reveal his identity in btsv so i'm not even going to attempt to imagine that #but writing TWO hero identities getting revealed was actually more fun than i imagined #also did yall like the movie lines i slipped in there? ahaha #yes i HAD to make miles' speech mirror gwen's cuz... well yeah #they're both spiderpeople and so they obvi mirror each other in a lot of ways #esp cuz they both have/had cop dads #so anyways hope yall enjoyed this one :) #will i write more after this? who knows #i MAY have more hc posts up my sleeve for the future but We Shall See #oh yeah also the aesthetic pics used as dividers in both posts are not mine ofc #i mostly found them trawling thru pinterest and tumblr 🤙 #thx 4 reading ♡

[hum--hallelujah]

don't want to kill time like it doesn't matter - 3.5k words, (platonic) funkobra hurt/comfort

---

Ghoul is actually younger than Kobra. They always forget it though.

At least, they usually do.

Kobra's stopped shooting upright and reaching for his blaster whenever someone wakes him up at night. Stopped two years ago, honestly, when him and Ghoul started sharing a room. That was a collective decision that is very much not discussed. It left the old office as a perfect room for the Girl, in the end. Between Ghoulie and Girlie, the former of whom has wild, sleepless tendencies and the latter liking to scramble her way into bed with somebody else every other night of the week, Kobra's knee-jerk reaction has become more of a lack of reaction.

"Yo," hisses a pitchy voice. It's dead daylight, the heat of the day. This is the time of the year when you sleep while the sun's up, wait until the darkness falls to do anything or else it's too miserable or too dangerous. "Kobes."

Kobra utters a verbose "Hrrmngg?" and rolls over. He cracks an eye open to see Ghoul standing at the end of his bed. If it hadn't been light out, he'd be doing a good job of living up to his name. His hands are shaking, but when aren't they?

"You good, man?" Kobra asks groggily. He's half awake, half asleep, drifting in between the two states of being. Ghoul is shifting his weight back and forth on his feet. It makes the floor creak. It makes him look even smaller than he is. "Ghoulie?" He mumbles again when he gets no reply.

Ghoul makes a noncommittal half-whispered sound. "Wanna go for a joyride?" He asks instead of an answer.

Kobra blinks himself more fully awake and pushes up on one elbow. "Mirage or the 'Am?"

Ghoulie shrugs. Won't meet his eyes. Oh shit, that's not good. Something's got him worked up. It's too late for this. This is why they share a room now. They didn't used to, but Kobra refuses to let him sleep alone anymore. Kobra knows how he got that wicked scar that runs from the corner of his mouth nearly to his eye.

"Either," Ghoul says. "Doesn't matter much to me."

"Mirage," Kobra decides. He'll never say no to a late-night joyride. Not this kind. Party'll have his neck for sneaking out on the bike without letting anyone know, but the 'Am is too conspicuous when strange crews are out and from the look of him, riding double on the motorcycle will be good for Ghoul.

It's still too hot to be out. But going for a spin won't take too much exertion, getting to someplace with shade, so long as it's away from here, won't take too long. Ghoul's gonna get sunscorched. Maybe that's the point. While Kobra covers up with his jacket, Ghoul is still in the loose, half-covering clothes he sleeps in.

The sun glints painfully off the sand when they climb quietly out the window. No reason trying to get past Party when they've got an exit right here. Ghoul clambers out first with a probably accidental but surprisingly graceful roll and then flinches, violently, when Kobra jacket catches on what's left of the glass in the window and he tumbles haphazardly to the ground. They both hold still for a long dozen seconds, Kobra staring at the diner wall and straining to tell if anyone heard them, and Ghoul staring at Kobra and shaking.

When Party doesn't come along, eyes glinting with annoyed amusement, and yell at them for sneaking out, Kobra sits up and checks the hem of his jacket where it caught on the sharp edge. "Great," he mutters when he sees the tear in the lining. He'll have to sew that back together later. "Ghoul, you good?"

Ghoul shrugs and stands up. "Aren't I always?"

"No."

They stare at each other for a few seconds while Kobra rubs his palms together to clear the sand off them and reaches into his pocket for his gloves. "You're wearing a helmet," he says flatly.

Ghoul rolls his eyes and sneers. It crinkles the scar running up his face. "No way."

"Fine." Kobra doesn't push. Half the time he doesn't even wear his helmet. He's the driver. He'll keep them safe. It was worth a try, though. "Come on."

The heavy bay door of the garage makes too much noise to open without being caught. They slip in the side door and Kobra brings Mirage carefully back through it. He wears a helmet this time. Ghoul stands and waits, bouncing impatiently on the balls of his feet, while Kobra starts the bike and, out of habit, does a couple checks.

"You ready?" Kobra says, with the visor of his helmet flipped up.

Ghoul grins, but it's lacking in heart. So often, Kobra thinks he's not all there. So often, Kobra thinks this is his best friend. "Born that way," he replies.

"Come on then," Kobra says and nods for Ghoul to get on the bike with him. "Hey, hey. Hey, Ghoulie-" he says, when Ghoul is standing right at his shoulder, about to throw a leg over Mirage and climb on. "You okay?" He asks again, because he needs to know how safe any of this is.

Ghoul doesn't respond. Just settles himself behind Kobra and wraps his arms, tight, around Kobra's middle. Kobra stays there a second, until he's sure Ghoul's grip is solid, so that he can feel Ghoul breathing against his back, before he kicks off. He doesn't care if Party and Jet wake up now, they won't catch them. The bike's tires kick up a fountain of sand as he spins a loop, leaning into the turn until Mirage tilts close enough to the ground that Kobra could touch the sand if he reached out. Ghoul asked for a joyride. This is that.

"What the hell, man?!" Ghoul yells over Kobra's shoulder, muffled by the engine noise and his helmet. Kobra feels Ghoul's hands grab at the fabric of his shirt as he pulls around the first turn, bringing them around the back of a sand dune at full speed.

"Trust me?" Kobra shouts back. He's getting into it now, relaxing into each wide, showy swerve and fishtail. He slows down just a bit when he can feel Ghoul's fingernails start to bite into his skin. It makes him edgy when Ghoul is like this.

Ghoul sniffs sharply. "Well, yeah, but I've seen you crash out enough times at the track-"

"Aw, shut up," Kobra snaps back, without venom. Ghoul's his mechanic. He's seen his best wins and worst losses. "Where you wanna go?" He asks, after a few random turns, just drifting around in the sand. Ghoul is quiet. Kobra reaches back with one hand and smacks him on the leg after awhile. "Ghoulie, where we goin'?"

"I'm thinki-" Ghoul cuts himself off and when he speaks again his voice is flat and so quiet Kobra has to strain to hear him. "Turn right up here."

There's the remains of a road cutting across their path and Kobra hops Mirage up onto it, swings right and follows the pavement. Ghoul's grip around his chest has loosened, but Kobra can feel the fast, shallow rhythm of his breathing and the shaking of his hands even still. The road goes on for ages, long enough that it starts to feel infinite. This must have been a highway, back before the wars and BL/ind. At some point, Ghoul leans forward and puts his forehead against the back of Kobra's neck. Kobra can feel him pressed just below where his helmet sits.

"Get off at this turn," Ghoul mumbles suddenly, but not soon enough because Kobra completely overshoots the exit. He flips around the empty lanes of the highway, admittedly showing off mostly just to make himself feel better.

The group of buildings along the former highway off-ramp isn't really a ghost town. It's a cluster of old stores and restaurants, like the diner but mass produced, and down at the end is an ancient truck stop and gas station. Kobra slows the bike to a crawl as they drive down the street, struck with an eerie sense of deja vu. He's been here before. They both have.

He pulls over and stops in the middle of the road, beside what used to be a coffee store. Coffee is usually made in the form of compressed, dried out shots now, called Motor Juice in the Zones when rehydrated. They don't have coffeeshops in the City. They have prescriptions.

Ghoul is off the bike and Kobra's back suddenly cold even under the heat of the sun before Mirage even comes to a full stop. "Ghoul-" Kobra snaps, angry for reasons he can't even say and unsettled in ways he doesn't want to. This is a ghost town. Just not in the normal way. "Ghoul. What are you-"

But Ghoul is walking away, his back to Kobra and the bike as he moves toward the gas station as if it's a magnet and he's the blade of a knife, trembling so hard with the pull that it might break. Kobra hesitates, then swings his leg over Mirage and bumps out the kickstand. Ghoul is standing stock still, or as still as he can, on the faded pavement of the gas station parking lot. Kobra's glad it's faded. He doesn't want to see the bloodstains.

Ghoul looks small as he approaches, absolutely miniscule. He's got his arms wrapped tight around himself and Kobra can hear the harshness of his breathing even from several strides away. He doesn't want to get too close too fast. Ghoul's enough like a wild animal that it could turn out badly, and Kobra for once really doesn't want to fight him today. Not out here, at least.

They're within two years of each other, Kobra and Ghoul. They usually forget they're not the same age. But right now Ghoul looks so small and so, so young and Kobra doesn't know what to do.

"Gh- Ghoul. Ghoulie." Kobra calls carefully, stumbling over his tongue. He clamps his teeth together, takes a deep breath. "Ghoul."

Ghoul doesn't turn, doesn't look away from the door into the gas station he'd been found in, back when Kobra and Poison and Jet were a crew of three and Ghoul'd been even more feral than he is now. The gas station where Ghoul watched his entire family die and he was helpless to do anything about it. He still thinks he hadn't done enough. Kobra knows that. Ghoul always thinks he didn't do enough. That one kid with a blaster and wild eyes could take down a full squad of Dracs and two Crows.

Kobra doesn't know how to tell him that if he'd tried, he would be dead too. Kobra doesn't know how to tell him he's glad he didn't. When it comes down to it most, Kobra finds he can't speak.

"Ghoulie," he says again. "Hey. Hey." He moves closer, pulls off the helmet he'd almost forgotten he still has on. "Ghoul," he tries, one more time, as gently as he knows how even though it's not that gentle. He's never been good at this. Some of the scars scattered across Ghoul's body are from him. But Kobra had stitched up Ghoul's face and he's not going to give up now.

Ghoul finally turns and Kobra breathes a sigh of relief. Just a response. Proof of life even though he's still standing. And then Ghoul steps toward him and suddenly he's right there, shaking but otherwise just as eerily still as this entire place, like he's trapped in frozen time just like the rest of it, and he collides with Kobra's chest in a way that's both surprising and yet entirely expected.

"Oh." Kobra drops his helmet, dangling from one hand, and his arms hover uncertainly in the air for a moment before he carefully closes them around Ghoul. "Oh. Okay. Okay." He says quietly, startled, but not really. He'd felt the way Ghoul was holding onto him as they rode Mirage all the way out here.

Ghoul unfolds his arms from around himself and grabs onto the unzipped sides of Kobra's jacket. He doesn't cry, not out loud at least. He's just shaking, so much, and so, so small. Kobra's not good with words. He's even worse with them under pressure. Anything Jet or Party could say to make it better, that kind of stuff gets stuck on his tongue when Kobra tries to say it. So he doesn't. He just holds on.

"You plan on coming here?" Kobra asks eventually, even though he has a feeling the answer is no. Unless it's an engine or a bomb, Ghoul never really plans on much. Ghoul shakes his head, hair scrubbing against Kobra's shoulder and neck where his head's pressed. "You wanna... y'wanna go inside?" He asks then, against his better judgment. But then again, he's never been known for that, has he.

Ghoul tenses, but it momentarily stops the shaking. "Can we?"

Kobra huffs. "Nobody stoppin' us, and even if there were, we'd do it anyway, wouldn't we?"

Ghoul pries his fingers from their hold on Kobra's jacket and turns back toward the station. "Should we?"

"Dunno." Part of him thinks it might help. Part of him remembers exactly what happened the last time they were here. It's the Killjoy way to call death ghosting. It means some part of you lives on even when you're gone. There's a lot of ghosts in this pavement. "It's your-"

He can't think of what word goes there. Choice. Past. Grief. Place. So he stops talking. He shrugs, bends to pick up his helmet. "I can." He sucks a breath through his teeth. He's going to say it again. "I can... I can go with you. If you," he shrugs one shoulder again. "If you, uh, want to. I'm not- I'm not trying to force you," he adds, like it needs to be said. "It's your... yours."

Because that's all that really can be said. This place, the place that made Fun Ghoul what he is. The journey, however brief, that brought them here. Even, kinda, Kobra himself. It's all for Ghoul, here and now. Kobra drove, but he's just along for the ride. Weird how that happens.

Ghoul steps toward the station. Magnetism, again. And Kobra follows, because how could he not. He feels sick at the though of letting his friend go in that place alone.

The doors are gone. Shot out years ago. It looks to Kobra exactly as it did back then, but Ghoul probably remembers better. There are shelves toppled and glass and plastic broken all over the floor. Whatever hasn't been scavenged is broken and shattered. Ghoul walks toward the back of the store, the corner that's not so much a mess. Kobra stays back a bit, trying to give his friend space.

It's where they found Ghoul. Or, where Pois had found him. Ghoul was half in shock, terrified and scarred and fighting, and Party was the first one of their then three-strong group to notice the dark shape watching them hopelessly trawl the carnage for any survivors. It took Pois physically restraining the much smaller kid to keep Ghoul from going for all of their throats.

Kobra has a lot of bad memories of Ghoul. None are as bad as remembering the way he'd screamed when they first met.

"Y'okay?" Kobra asks after a while.

Ghoul has his moments. They all do. Sometimes, you wake up bad in the night and it's hard to pick yourself up. Sometimes you just gotta hit the bottom before you even can. But Ghoul's a fighter. "Yeah," he says, walking back and forth between fallen shelves once stocked with food and stupid trinkets. He crouches to pick up the shattered remnants of something once made of colorful glass and when he looks back over his shoulder at Kobra, he doesn't seem quite as small.

"'M sorry," Kobra mumbles, not knowing what to say now. Somehow, the shaking and the touch are so much easier than having to talk about it. He's never been the talker. That's Party. And he knows his brother regrets not getting there — here — sooner that day, but there's a sick, selfish part of Kobra that's too glad to have Ghoul to want anything different. But really, it's all he can say. If there's remnants of bones that haven't been carried away by carrion-eaters, he doesn't want to see it.

Ghoul slowly stands up from his spot on the floor, staring intently at the broken knick-knack in his palm. It might have been a glass teddy bear, once, something a parent might grab up for a child waiting at home. It's partially shattered, though. Half of its cartoonish smiling face is gone. The heart shape it once held in its paws is cracked down the middle. Kobra isn't great with metaphors, but this is pretty fucking obvious.

"I didn't save them," Ghoul says quietly, his voice grating through the charged, silent air. "I didn't save her."

Something clicks into place. They all know that the crew he lost was Ghoul's real actual biological family. He's a sandpup. He was born and raised in the Zones. He doesn't talk about it much. Kobra's shocked he even came back here, let alone with anyone else. Ghoul doesn't talk about his family, but they've all figured for a while that he had a sibling. You can see it in how he treats the Girl.

"Your sister," Kobra says. It doesn't sound like so much of a question when he says it out loud, but he knows Ghoul will understand it as one.

Ghoul nods. "Yeah." He steps over some toppled displays, sun-bleached ads that used to be bright colored, and slips the shiny piece of broken glass into one of Kobra's pockets since he doesn't have any of his own. Kobra can already see the sunburn forming on his friend's shoulders and the tops of his knees. "She was like, eight."

That's all the more he says about it, but Kobra slips his hand into the pocket and runs his fingers over the broken glass toy still warm from Ghoul's hands, and hears the years of grief and bitterness in the few words. Ghoul's more talky than he is, but he's cagey, too. Kobra can hear him, though. He gets it. Doesn't mean he knows what to say, though.

"Shit," he spits. He wants to say I'm sorry again, but that feels fuckin cheap. He wants to say stop beating yourself up about it, but that sounds even stupider. "Fuck." Sometimes that's all he can say.

"Yeah," Ghoul replies. "Fuckin shit."

"Exactly," Kobra agrees, fiercely relieved that Ghoul gets all the shit he's trying to say. "Hey, uh. Y'know I'm-" He stumbles over the words, cringes at himself for the inability to get past a stupid two-letter word. "I'm glad I know you." He manages, as selfish as it sounds standing here in the ghosted wreckage where Ghoul's family was killed. But if that hadn't happened, they wouldn't be here now. They wouldn't be friends. And Kobra needs Ghoul to know he's glad that any suicide run to save his family failed. The pain sucks, but he's grateful for the outcome. He hopes Ghoul can understand that.

Ghoul doesn't reply. His acid green eyes bore straight into Kobra's for a few seconds while Kobra's heart hammers in his chest. Then he kicks at some dust and looks at the floor and shrugs. "Let's go, man. I don't wanna stay here."

"M'kay."

Kobra's almost tempted to reach out as they walk back out into the glaring sun, grab onto Ghoul like he's a ghost, too, and the light might evaporate him. But he doesn't. He can't.

He thinks the feeling of Ghoul hanging onto him as he steers Mirage away, back up the ramp to the road they came down in the first place, will make him feel better. It doesn't. Ghoul holds on much looser than he had on the way here, and it makes Kobra nervous. He wonders if he should have made him wear a helmet, and steers more carefully around the turns.

And then Ghoul adjusts his seat and throws one arm up over Kobra's shoulder, loosely hooking around his neck. He leans up forward and shouts, "C'mon, Kobes, let's play with it!" Like he's itching for the risk that a couple hours ago had had him holding on for dear life. Kobra's used to thinking his best friend isn't all there. But he's also familiar with the times he is. Sometimes, he forgets they're not the same age because Ghoul is so larger than life.

He tips his head to the side in acknowledgement, and punches the throttle. He even pulls a couple of tight, quick loops. He can't slide on the pavement the way he would on sand, but he can catch a little air when there's a thermal bump in the highway. Ghoul clutches onto him, but it's not scared. Something's cleared up in the gas station. Maybe it was closure. Hell if Kobra knows.

When they pull Mirage off the highway and the diner finally comes back into view, just a small glint of signage, Kobra slows his pace and can feel Ghoul sigh more than he can hear it. His friend's arms stay firmly around him. "Hey, Kobes?" Ghoul says, just barely loud enough to be heard over the engine.

"Yeah?" Kobra says, a bit louder to be heard past his helmet.

Ghoul hesitates, then says in a rush, "I'm glad I know you too. Like, really glad." And then he squeezes Kobra a little tighter for just a second and Kobra can't even say anything in reply. It's been a long night at the wrong time of day. And they're almost home.

#yes I know kobra is doing that annoying ''r u ok'' thing very repetitively he's like me he repeats himself A LOT it's ok. we still love him #I cannot express this enough. kobra has a stutter. literally sometimes the only word that will come out is just. F bomb. #the others have gotten very good at translating him skskskddkfj #btw wrt kobra's speech patterns just know I'm cutting WAY back on the amount of repeating I do irl #like I'm giving him my (mild) stutter but cutting down the repetitions by a lot bc it looks weird on paper #so whenever he's repeating himself and stammering? yeah it's a lot more like a scratched CD than how I typed it out #in my head it's like SUPER noticeable. like everyone knows this happens and that sometimes he has to stop and be quiet #and take a minute before he can get on with what he's saying. it's just a thing #ok now that I'm done rambling about kobra kid having a stutter- :) #btw they're like 16 and 17 here. they are children trying to navigate these very big emotions and I love them so so dearly #next time I need to emotionally or physically hurt kobra skfjfnskdn I keep going after poor ghoul #ok I think that's all I have to say for now #she speaks! #she writes! #danger days #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #danger days: the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #ttlotfk #kobra kid #fun ghoul #this isn't really funkobra just bc I don't actually ship ANYONE here skskfjdghkdjgfkd #I'm much more compelled by platonic relationships that are kinda the Secret Third Thing than I am by romance. so. yeah

[inthecompanyofabengaltiger]

man am i over people who've never actually read asoiaf shitting on it lmao

#i had two different posts willfully misinterpreting grrm cross my dash the last couple days #the aragorn tax policy quote isn't shitting on lotr or intended to be taken as a literal 'you must write about kings' tax policies' mandate #it's about how grrm is interested in different themes to tolkein #like the quote goes on to ask if aragorn commits genocide against the orcs after rotk or like what happens there how isthat tension resolve #in lotr it doesn't matter what happens to the orcs after aragorn is crowned because the story is about frodo's journey and not aragorn #and grrm KNOWS that & is literally making the point HIMSELF that asoiaf is more about the politics than lotr is #we see those tensions explored in plots like the wall with jon having to satisfy stannis the watch and the wildlings all at once #it's not an insult - it's just a fucking comparison & explanation. marketing speech more than anything close to anti-lotr hatred. like cmon #and then the second post was talking about how edmure tully is called weak for letting his smallfolk into his castle #and how that proves that george is an idiot who hates kindness and doesn't understand the medieval era #as if the other characters calling edmure weak for that wasn't kind of the entire point of the riverlands destruction arc #and it's not a purposeful contrast between edmure and other lords (specifically robb in his kingly campaign) #anyway it'd be nice if people read and used their brains to think some thoughts about what they read before talking shit. #asoiaf

[chibi-scone]

It’s been said before and the fact that I’m an Izzy simp aside like having a character who survives the most certain death shit ever (shooting himself in the head at point blank) and literally being nicknamed by another character “indestructible” and then become a symbol of protection for a whole group of people die from a fucking bullet to the side that was established in universe to have no vital organs in order to “atone for his sins” or however you wanna spin it and have him say he wants to go after (see point one) literally trying to kill himself in the show that is literally about growth and betterment of the self in a cruel world that wants you dead and where the main (and mostly queer) characters survive the most batshit insane injuries is like COSMICALLY stupid writing like I don’t even understand how you get there and the fact that it’s supposed to be a kind/ happy/meaningful ending is beyond me

#and Izzy’s whole speech to Ricky before that could be interpreted as what like #being about even if you kill and try to eradicate queer people we’ll always be here #and then have RICKY deal the killing blow ???? #wahhhh it’s symbolic #ok it would’ve been more symbolic to have the fucking queer character live like idc you’re all stupid god bless #ofmd critical #tbd #maybe #oh and then I mean not even talking about how it’s supposedly all good #because the main gays who had borderline no redeeming qualities this season had their picket fence ending #literally what’s the point of having Ed come back from the dead #so he can learn that death is not the answer and that there’s love and betterment for him #and have that whole scene with Jim and Archie where they refuse to kill one another because there’s more to life than the cards #they’ve been dealt and they can be the difference #JUST TO HAVE THAT ENDING #my god I just #sorry if you guys are sick of me ranting about ofmd like 5 months after the shit show supreme #but these are like all thoughts that I’ve just had in my head for months but tried to forget #and now they’re just spilling out like idc anymore #ppl have made so many good posts that all say what I think but ig I still need to rant myself jvhsjnv #how long can your neck be for it to allow you to bury your head so deep in the sand #where you truly believe this is good writing idk #side note but gifs of cats randomly blowing up are my favourites #‘Izzy bettered himself before dying so it’s aaaallll good’ hits you hits you #stupid ass shit argument but also that was across maybe a week and dude was piss drunk dissociative half the time

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

[pericky; a look into ricky's head during their meeting.]

---

"I'm glad you came, I wasn't sure you would." The wine pours, the sound of it drowning out the missing word in that sentence: back.

Of course, is the response, and the part of Ricky that's spent twenty years tearing itself apart to understand why vibrates with relief. It doesn't matter anymore. Of course, of course, he thinks giddily along with the words. He never needed to wonder why Pericles wasn't coming back in the first place; he was always going to.

I'm happy you invited me, and of course he thinks again. A lifetime of pretending he wasn't always going to either falls away. However harsh and lonely the world has been, all's right with it again; and the shy voice of the boy inside him that he's tried so hard to kill says, so quietly, I missed you.

#sdmi #scooby doo: mystery incorporated #pericky #ricky owens #professor pericles #anyway fucking end me actually. lay me down to die #i said i was gonna write more pericky and by fucking god i did #the 'why did you do this to me' to 'oh thank god you didn't actually do this to me' pipeline of abuse folks 🥲 #which like. their last conversation is yet another devastating example of ricky finally standing up to pericles' bullshit Too Late #ricky denounces him in the strongest terms he knows; based on his own feelings and opinions and the way he sees the world #(which: even then he can't bring himself to say 'i don't love you anymore') #(the closest he can get is 'i chose you and i can't take it back; the only way i can imagine not loving you is if i never had at all') #and pericles tries to go 'nyeh nyeh whatever i don't care' (and does a real bad job of pretending he is not obviously hurt lmao) #and ricky doesn't try to understand his logic; he doesn't try to reconcile a world where pericles didn't *really* mean to do anything wrong #his response is MAYBE YOU *SHOULD* CARE. #pericles' view of the world and what's right and acceptable are warped and *wrong* and he's the one who needs to get his shit together #'you shouldn't have abused me you shouldn't have killed cassidy you shouldn't have murdered a child in cold blood' #that is MASSIVE and i think it is really telling that pericles' response is to shut him down with force instead of trying to argue any more #and that in the end is the real true fucking tragedy of it all #ricky is making huge strides one after the other to take back his freedom from pericles emotionally #....and materially it makes no difference to improve his situation in the moment; because pericles doesn't have any less power to abuse him #he never has a triumphant moment where he Overcomes His Abuser and Breaks Out of His Control #there's nothing he can do to fight back until pericles is too Literally Dead to control him anymore #it is one of the rawest depictions of the reality of abuse i've ever seen and just. God. i love it so much #(at the same time i REALLY want to explore a version of events where he got the chance to expand further on that growth) #(the 'all witches are selfish; make all things yours; i have a duty' speech from the wee free men comes to mind) #whosebaby makes things #whosebaby writes #SDMItag #dyn: when i die i want you to die too

[jacqcrisis]

The impromptu (but necessary) fight with the monster hunter Gandrel went... we'll say poorly for Astarion. Ronan's blessing on them could only help so much and as the hunter focused him down with a barrage of burning crossbolts, it was easy to start making mistakes. The thought of killing the man with his teeth was too poetic to deny, but ended with a bolt to his stomach and his knees meeting the ground with the rest of him swift to follow.

Six seconds of panic. Of pain. Of being assured he'd met his end, his flesh burnt and the bolt in his stomach twisted and deep.

But there it was. A rapturous feeling. A holy light lifting him from edge when it should have been shoving him down, and through the smoke, Astarion met Ronan's burning eye as he healed him with a prayer and a snarl before a morning star to the temple sent the hunter to the ground instead.

He struggled to stand until there was a clawed hand around his arm, pulling him up, patting out whatever was still burning on him. A potion thrust in his hand. An order growled out to the other two they'll be making camp early tonight, followed by a flurry of activity he scant remembers much of besides holding the thing in him still.

The first step is taking out the bolt before the sun is set and a fire is built. He assures Ronan he's been through worse, tells him about it, about who no doubt sent the hunter as the cleric still works efficiently and lays him down. Carefully takes off his burnt armor and clothes for Gale to mend with his magic.

It'd be intimate in any other setting, but prodding claws dipping into the wound to find the barbs of the bolt make it anything but. And when it's time to pull it out, Ronan prepares him, talks him through what will happen, offers to hold his hand.

"You know, despite the face, your bedside manner is impeccable." He teases breathily, looking anywhere but the fist the size of his head grasping the shaft sticking out of him.

It earns him something approximating a grin before the bolt is pulled free in a single motion, a rough palm on his chest keeping him from curling in on himself from the pain. It is tossed elsewhere, Ronan's free hand slapped over the hole in him with another prayer that fills his lungs with air and numbs the hurt, expediting the healing that will happen after he's gotten something to eat.

When he's caught his breath and Ronan has taken his hand away, he sits Astarion up, inspecting smaller wounds. The burns, the cuts, the splinters of wood from the shattered bolts lodged in his skin. With his claws and some tweezers, he pulls them out, inspecting anything bleeding with a practiced eye.

"You don't have to do that, really-"

"Heals better." He says gruffly, brushing him off, contrasting the care with which he extracts another splinter and the gentle way he holds onto Astarion's arm. "You wouldn't want anything stuck in you."

He changes the subject, asks further about Cazador to keep him busy. And busy it does, like a poison being expelled from him. Even the small amount he relays is enough for a different kind of relief, one that's compounded as Ronan assures Astarion he'll watch his back should anyone else sent their way.

Once he's satisfied, Ronan sits back, goes for his bag for any kind of burn relief but Astarion stays him. Assures him he'll be fine after he gets something to eat, shockingly prompting Ronan to ask if he needs help. He points out he's still weak, staring pointedly as Astarion struggles to stay sitting upright, the muscles in his abdomen still freshly mended.

"There is, ah, one way you could help." Astarion says, "A little top up couldn't hurt. I wouldn't take much. Just enough to...speed things along."

He gives Astarion long stare, and for a moment he assumes it'll be another no until there's a clink as he undoes the leather at his wrist, presenting it to Astarion without a word. Doesn't flinch or look away as he bites through the delicate scales found there. Astarion can feel his pulse on his tongue, beating rapid as he watches his blood be taken.

Perhaps he isn't the only one enjoying the moment.

When Ronan pulls away, he is quick to stay the bleeding with a prayer, but Astarion is quicker to snatch his arm back. Lap up whats left and confirm what he's suspecting at the flare of nostrils and the fiery pupils dilating at the sight. He's not as indecipherable as first appears.

"You were going to wipe it away anyways. Why let a good thing go to waste?"

There's that rumbling hum again, a sound he's finding to mean the man is pleased by something. Ronan still stands though, tells him to rest a little more before he goes off hunting. Says he'll keep an eye out for his return.

Astarion watches him leave, lumbering toward Lae'zel to see over her burns and no doubt be told off for the recklessness that got them here. There's still pain, but it's waning under the prayers and the blood on his tongue. He'll get up in a moment, content to lay here, this modicum of safety one to enjoy.

#jacq writes #tells myself i wont write fanfic of bg3 till next chapter of left turn is done #keeps fucking doing it anyways #i had to get this idea out of craw cause i liked how that whole fight went down #very good very narrative #and then right after it and we took a long rest #i had that fucking magic scene with gale #and the next morning i talked to astarion and he gave me the dtf speech #which i reloaded and will have that convo with him next long rest #i speed ran that shit apparently #killing hunter man was apparently the yes sex button for him. cool. #but im not playing again till i finish the chapter im working on #anyways #bg3

[dudefrommywesterns]

i'd be cool with "ship and let ship" and "anti-harassment" "I'm neutral on the ship discourse" if it didn't turn out, without fail, to mean "ha! i get off to incestuous and pedophilic fic and i gave you NO CLEAR WARNING HAHA"

#typewriter dings #look. if you want your free speech and freedom to write whatever: tell me what the fuck you write so i don't have to happen upon it after #months of following you #be open about it so you feel free and i can feel free to block and leave

[antiarcticmonkeys]

Yeah, there are several things that refill my health bar but the only thing that replenishes my mana is gay sex and I have been using sooooo much mana recently. Yeah, my mana is sooooo low, I really could use some help with that.

#this started out being about my life but I realized after I finished writing this that dungeon meshi #so #marcille dungeon meshi #honestly I have been looking for a good situation to put Marcille and Falin in and this may be a winner #my one goal for this post is that someone reboots it with a pic of Marcille and a speech bubble so I don’t have to lmao

[marsixm]

big spoiler cw for the finale- i understand why a lot of people didnt feel like it made sense for how ed was acting during izzy’s death scene, like it didn’t feel earned or whatever bc they’d been at odds w each other since last season, but for me, and understand i’m not saying my personal experience making it make sense for me is trying to give undue writing cred or whatever, but i had a very difficult relationship with my very transphobic/bigoted mother. she made my life a nightmare a lot of the time. but i had to care for her in death. i had to watch her die for months. it was a waking nightmare, and it had a profound effect on me. it was complicated. it made my relationship to my memory of her very complicated. (and even if it hadnt been a months long ordeal i was caught in the middle of i’d probably still feel similarly) and that’s how ed dealing with izzy’s death feels to me. just like him having to kill his father, it was the right thing to do, but it still left him with difficult emotions. when ed says “you’re the only family i’ve got left” to izzy, after all the bullshit they put each other through, i get it.

#death cw #ofmd spoilers #also so i dont make multiple spoilery posts #i do also get why it feels weird to have him die after all that growth #but everyone grew and changed all season #and someone going away doesnt change that- ie look at buttons. he’s gone but it’s not negative #and like izzy didn’t necessarily *want* to die #but him dying a pirate’s death. on the ship. with the crew. injured in a scheme against the english. it was a better way for him to go #than being killed by ed while he was at his lowest #bc he’s right blackbeard was ed AND him. so blackbeard cant kill izzy. and izzy cant kill ed. bc ultimately neither of them would kill #*themselves. #also i liked the set up of him telling the prince that speech. saying it doesnt matter if we live or die. because piracy will live forever #it means when the prince shoots him it doesnt feel like a victory for the prince. he doesnt get to win that easily #also the prince character is fascinating as a foil for stede bc stede was also betrayed and injured by pirates #and even went home #but when he went back to normal life he told stories about how great pirates are. not try to kill them all #anyway thats my little thought for right now #and like i say im not giving undue writing cred but also id be surprised if this wasnt an experience ppl making the show- at least someone- #wasnt considering when they wrote this. like they have an established complex history that a couple months of fighting isnt gonna erase