#so i'm making a goal to swim every chance i get

[lexkent]

completed day 8 of working 12 days in a row. on the plus side starting my shift at the crack of dawn means I can go swimming afterwards

1st pic is Sunday and 2nd is right now

#and it's free thank god #getting near that time of summer where i start to mourn the weather i didn't take enough advantage of #so i'm making a goal to swim every chance i get #this lake is the closest and it's always freezing ass cold until august #text

[cherrycola27]

false god

Series Warnings: Mythology!AU. Language, alcohol, drinking. Military inaccuracies. Mutual pining, unrequited love. Allusions to and eventual smut. Minors DNI. 18+. Individual chapter warnings will come as needed. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

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Chapter 2: You Should See Me In A Crown

The rest of your first week with the Dagger Squad is spent working on team building. You spend the week being professional with them, especially Rooster. In your time, you've learned it's better not to make friends. It saves you from getting hurt.

That doesn't mean they don't try, though. Every time they go out, they invite you with them. You turn them down each time, a new excuse fed to them that seems to satisfy them.

It's been a month since you've been working with the Daggers, and you've settled in nicely. This week, you've been working in the classroom with Maverick. It's a nice change of pace and gets you far away from Rooster.

He's been nothing but nice to you this month, and you aren't sure how someone who's faces so much loss in his life can be so kind. You've never seen him be anything but kind to his teammates. Sure, he and Jake shoot the breeze and tease each other relentlessly, but there's no animosity behind it.

When the squad is at the Hard Deck, it seems like he knows everyone. People are just drawn to him. He has a light that shines from with in, just like—

Stop, don't go there

When Friday comes around, you're scheduled for an early morning hop with Hangman and then an afternoon one with Rooster.

As much as you don't want to be, you're excited to fly with Bradley. It scares you, if you're being honest.

It would be so much easier for you to deny the feelings you have for Rooster if he acted like Jake did.

Unfortunately, he was just shy of perfect. You knew that Aphroditie had to be pulling some strings and laughing as she watched you try to resist.

Bradley was kind, smart, and had an infectious personality. He was a ray of sunshine. A golden boy who rivaled Apollo himself, and you—you were darkness, chaos, death. You were a monster. And he needed to be protected from you and the pain you would inevitably cause him.

He's too good for you

You shook the thoughts from your head as you geared up to fly.

You would be working against Bob, Phoenix, and Hangman. Your goal was to take them down, theirs was to take you down.

In theory, they should have been able to do it. Two against one seemed like pretty good odds. However, Jake still had a lot to learn about teamwork. From what you've been told and what you've read, he'd gotten better at it, but when it came down to it, he was still self-centered. Today was going to be a good opportunity to teach him a lesson.

You were cruising along under them when a wicked idea came to mind.

"Hey, Hangman, what do you say we make a little wager?" You purred into your headset. "Oh, you know I'm a betting man, Hades, what do you have in mind?" He asked you.

"You take me down, and I'll let you take my Rover for the weekend. I know you have a giant hard-on for it." You goad him.

"Ohhh, I like that idea. Now if by some chance I don't, what do you get out of this?" He shoots back. "You have to stop hitting on me, because it's never going to happen." You state.

You'd rather swim in the River Styx

"Deal." Jake answers quickly. "Perfect." You reply.

God, he was making this too easy

"Fights on!" You tell him and Phoenix before popping out from under them.

"Hades? In front of us? Really, you're making this too easy!" Jake snickers.

You smirk to yourself. You've got him right where you want him. You quickly change gears in your jet and take off, leaving both of the other planes in the dust.

Jake follows hot on your tale, leaving Phoenix and Bob behind. You can hear both of them swear at Jake. You quickly break right and circle back to them.

Phoenix tries to shake you, but it's no use. "Sorry, Nix and Bob." You tell them before tones ring out.

You can hear the radar warning that Jake is on your tail. He thinks he's got you, but boy is he wrong.

You swoop left and right again and again. Jake can't get a lock on you.

You quickly climb up towards the clear blue sky.

"Phoenix, I can't see her! How close am I?" He asked her. "Phoenix?!"

"I'm dead, dick head." She calls back to him.

You laugh to yourself. This is exactly what you planned. You invert your jet and double back over his head. The glare of the sun provides a cover for you as you level out and drop into the pocket behind him undetected.

Hangman is good. You'll give him that. But you weren't just the queen of the Underworld. You were the queen of the skies, too.

"Hades! Where the fuck are you?" Jake huffs out.

Jake struggles in the sun and levels out. You take the chance to pop back up behind him.

"Right here!" You shout as you pop up and light him up with tones. He lets out a string of curses before banking left and heading into land.

You don't see him, but Bradley is in the rec room listening in on the exercise. He beams with pride when he hears you take out Jake.

"See you in the afterlife, Bagman." Bob chuckles.

"Alright. That's enough for now. Let's bring it in." You say.

As soon as you get out of your jet, everyone starts to high five you for besting Jake. You all break for lunch, groups heading off in different directions to eat.

You grab your lunchbox from the fridge and a book from your locker before heading to the rec room which is thankfully empty right now.

You'd just sat down and cracked the cover of your book and kicked your feet up in a chair when you heard the door open and a set of heavy boots on the floor. You don't look up. You already know who it is.

Sigh

"Can I help you with something, Rooster?" You ask, eyes not leaving your page. "I was hoping I could have lunch with you?" He asks.

You sigh and look up from your book. He's standing there with his lunch box in hand, looking at you with those damn baby-cow eyes and a small smile. You can't help but give in.

Good Gods, why did he have to be so handsome?

You take your feet off the chair and nod that it's okay for him to sit. You bookmark your page and set it to the side. He smiles bigger before sitting down and looking at the cover of your book.

Maybe he won't talk to you

"A Good Girls Guide to Murder?" He asks you, looking at the cover with a quirked eyebrow.

"I love a good murder mystery. I like trying to figure out the ending before the author reveals it." You shrug before taking a bite of the wrap you packed.

"Why do you try to do that?" Bradley asks you as he pulls out what is supposed to be a sandwich, but looks more like a toddler's art project.

"I don't like surprises." You tell him honestly. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to come off harsh, but Rooster, what the fuck is that?" You ask as you point to his pitiful excuse for lunch.

He laughs and rakes a hand over his face. "'It was supposed to be a club sandwich, but I was in a rush this morning, and I may have accidentally set my gym bag on my lunch box during my drive here, and so now it's— I don't even know. If you think this looks bad, you should see pretzels."

You can't help but snort out a laugh at his misfortune. You watch him struggle to separate the layers of his sandwich from the plastic wrap. You give him a few minutes before taking pity on him and snatching it out of his hand and tossing it in the trash can.

"Hey! I was going to eat that!" He jokingly scolds you.

You roll your eyes at him before unzipping your lunch box. You were sure you'd regret this later, but you needed him properly fueled up for flying with you, that's why you were doing this.

Maybe a friendship wouldn't be so bad

"Here," you say as you extend the extra wrap you had packed towards him.

"Thank you, but I can't take your food." Bradley politely declines.

"You can, and you will. That's an order from your superior officer. Can't have you flying with me at anything less than you best." You firmly state.

"Yes, Ma'am, Commander." Bradley relents. There's an edge of something in his voice when he calls you by your rank. It's smoother than how he normally addresses you. If you didn't know any better, you'd say that there was a hint of desire in it.

No, don't go there. He's just messing with you

He leans forward and takes the wrap from your hands. His eyes linger on your for just a moment linger than necessary. You can feel a flush creeping up your cheeks. You quickly settle back in your chair and clear your throat.

"It's spicy." You blurt out. Rooster looks at you confused. "The wrap. It's spicy. It's buffalo chicken. Sorry, I should have told you that before." You shake your head.

"No worries. I love spicy things. The hotter, the better." You winks at you. He honest to gods winks at you.

Is he flirting with you right now?

You open your mouth for a witty comeback, but you can't think of one. You're too focused on watching him take a generous bite of the lunch you've offered him. You transfixed as he lets out an appreciative groan.

"'Holy shit, this is fantastic. You make this yourself?" Rooster asks you after he swallowed another bite.

"Yeah, I love cooking." You spit out. His happy little sounds he makes when he his eating has you flustered for the first time in a very long time.

You haven't felt like this since you were a young God, lying in a wildflower field, your head in Persephone's lap as she braided poppies in your hair and hummed under her breath. It makes your heart ache that he's so much like her.

For a fleeting moment, you wonder if she knows about Bradley. You wonder if she sits on her flower throne and looks down upon you to see what you're up to. You wonder if she misses you.

But then you think better of it. She has no reason to miss you. Not after—

She doesn't miss you

No one does

"Hades, you ready to go?" Bradley asks as he pulls you from your thoughts.

"What?" You ask him, not sure what he just said.

"Our hop is in forty-five minutes. We might want to suit up." Bradley tells you.

"Oh, yeah." I'll meet you in the hanger." You say before quickly gathering your things.

"Thanks again for lunch!" Bradley calls behind you as you bolt for the locker room. Thankfully, it's empty when you go in there. You shove your belongings away before dashing over to a sink and splashing some cold water on your face. It sizzles and turns to steam in an instant.

"Stop it!" You yell at your reflection in the mirror. "Stop letting a silly mortal throw you off." You say to yourself. "Feelings are for the weak. Love and desire will only hold you back or hurt you." You say before shaking your head. You splash some more cold water on your cheeks. As much as you want to give into the desire that is sparking, you know it's a bad idea. You gave in once, and look where that got you.

But you like the way he makes you feel

You like that he isn't afraid of you

You roll your shoulders back and compose yourself before heading out of the locker room. Your sleek black helmet with neon blue flames and letters bearing your call sign is tucked up under your arm.

Rooster is chatting with Maverick inside the open hanger when you meet up with them.

"You ready for this test run? You and Rooster will be working together to try and take me down." Maverick says.

"I've been told no one has been able to take you out, sir. I hope you're ready for that winning streak to come to an end." You tell Maverick with a serious look. He laughs at your enthusiasm.

Before the three of you head to your planes, you quickly blink three times to make their lifetime counters appear.

Maverick's is unchanged from the last time you saw him, but your heart drops when you look at Bradley's. The nearly fifty years he had this morning had now been replaced with a little over an hour. That meant something was going to happen during your hop.

No. You couldn't let that happen

"Wait!" You screech. Both men turn to look at you. "I haven't done my preflight check. Have you?" You ask them.

"'Lieutenant Myers, from mantanince gave them a once over for us during our lunch. We should be fine." Maverick assures you.

"Still, I think we should go over them again just to be safe." You try to persuade them as you watch Bradley's timer dwindle.

"Hades, Lieutenant Myers knows what he's doing." Rooster tries to convince you.

"I—I just have a gut feeling. Call me crazy. I'll make you a deal. We do a deep check on the aircrafts. If everything is fine, drinks are on me tonight at the Hard Deck. If something is off, we can prevent anything bad from happening." You say.

"Fine. I guess double checking couldn't hurt." Maverick reluctantly agrees.

The three of you spend the next half hour going over your jets. Well—you pretend to be. You're more focused on Rooster's time clock. It still hadn't gone back up. If it didn't before the flight, you'd have to be extra vigilant during the hop to make sure nothing happens to him.

You're checking some gears when you hear Bradley call out. "Oh shit. That's not fucking good."

You and Maverick both cone around to see what he's talking about. You don't really care what it is. You're more concerned with his clock. You turn the corner of your plane and see that his timer has gone back up. You breathe a sigh of relief.

"What's wrong?" You ask him.

"The fuel line is loose. If I had taken this in the air, it probably would have detached, and I would have been screwed. Mav, you need to talk to Lieutenant Myers and make sure he knows what he's doing." Bradley says as he stands there with his hands on his hips.

"Well, Rooster, you're definitely grounded for the rest of the day. It looks like we will have to reschedule the software test because it's a three pilot job." Maverick sighed.

"Damn, I was really looking forward to Hades and I kicking your ass old man." Rooster laughs.

"Well, we still have the range for the rest of the afternoon. Are you two up for something fun?" Maverick says in a low voice with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Define 'fun'." You say as you turn to him. "I was thinking a little ace versus ace action Hades. You and me, first one to get missile lock on the other wins. I've seen you fly. I know you're good, kid. But I want to know if you can beat the best." Maverick smirks at you.

"What's the wager?" You ask him.

"200 push-ups and bragging rights?" Maverick propositions you.

"500, bragging rights, and a joyride in your P-51 I've heard so much about." You counter.

"Deal." You and Maverick shake hands.

"What about me?" Rooster throws up his hands before putting him on his hips and staring the two of you down.

You pause for a moment and look around the hanger before your eyes land on Phoenix and Bob's plane. A devilish grin spreads across your face.

"Rooster, have you ever been a back seater?" You ask him with a Cheshire smile.

"Oh no, Hades, I don't like that look." He shakes his head, knowing exactly what you're thinking.

"Too bad, it's the only one I've got." You shrug before taking off towards the two seater aircraft. Bradley follows hot on your heels.

You climb into the cockpit, and both of you go over your preflight checks. "Hades, you know I'm fucking clueless back her right? My dad was a RIO, and I did not inherit his skill set." Rooster tells you as he fits his oxygen mask to his face.

"Don't worry, Roo. Just buckle up and enjoy the ride." You tell him as you head down the runway.

Wait. Are you flirting with him?

Moments later, the two of you are airborne and on the hunt for Maverick. "As far as I can tell, nothing on radar, and I don't see him." Rooster reports as he scans the sky. You acknowledge him as you do the same.

"Come on, Maverick, where are you?" You mumble. You think back to your training. If he's not on radar, he's either too far away or directly under your or above you. You doubt he is above you, so your best guess is he is flying under you just out of sight.

Trusting your guy, you climb higher. "Holy shit. Hades, what are you doing?" Rooster asks you, startled by your sudden movements.

"Trust me," you say. Once you're high enough, you invernt and, bingo. Just like you thought, Maverick is below you.

"Hang on, Rooster. I've got him, " you say before dropping down straight for Maverick.

The glare of the sun helps hide you, but Maverick is smart and sees you coming. You drop in behind him.

Rooster is shouting directions at you trying to help. He's known Maverick longer and knows his tricks.

Soon, the two of you are locked in a battle of wits. Maverick can't shake you, but you can't get a lock on him.

"I need to get him to a higher altitude. Any ideas?" You ask Rooster. "One, but you aren't going to like it." Bradley chuckles before telling you his plan. He was right, you didn't like it, you loved it.

You rose and hovered over Maverick, inverting and keeping pace with him before forcing him into a climbing cobra spiral. The two jets danced across the sky, higher and higher.

"Alright, Hades, you put us here. What's your plan?" Maverick asks as he matches you, turn for turn.

"A magician never reveals all her secrets." You tell him as you narrow your eyes.

"Now, Rooster?" You ask Bradley for confirmation.

"Now!" He confirms. One his signal, you let up of the thrust and break out of the spiral before dropping into the pocket behind Maverick. He wasn't expecting the sudden change, and it throws him off. Maverick quickly corrects himself and attempts to evade you, but it's no use. You have him right where you want him. For the first time in a year, Maverick hears the missile lock tones ring out in his head set.

"Holy shit! You got him!" Rooster cheers as he celebrates in his seat.

You wish you could turn around and see what he looks like right now. You're sure a bright smile is spread across his face just under his oxygen mask. You bring the plane in for a landing as he continues to cheer. His joyfulness is infectious.

Just like hers was.

When your boots hit the tarmac after landing, you're prepared to head to the locker room. You're making Maverick save his push-ups for Monday so everyone can watch. Rooster is itching to get to the Hard Deck to tell everyone about today, and he's eager to see you outside of your uniform.

What you weren't prepared for, however, was for Rooster to wrap his arms around you in a crushing bear hug and for him to spin you around while praising you.

You face smooshes into his chest, and you inhale his scent. He smells like jet fuel, sunshine, and poppy.

You want to fight the hug, but at the same time, you want to lean into it.

He's so warm

Something about him feels—safe

When his brain finally catches up with him, he quickly puts you down before taking a step back and looking down.

"Sorry, I—I shouldn't have done that." He apologized, scratching the back of his neck.

Do it again

"'It's fine. You were excited. No sweat." You brush him off. He sighs out an agreement, and you see the flash of hurt across his eyes.

"You were really something up there, Hades." Bradley remarks as the two of you walk towards the locker rooms.

"But, I gotta know. How did you know something was wrong with my plane?" Rooster asked you. "I just had a gut feeling. Something felt off." You shrug.

"You basically saved my life. If I'd gone up with that leaking fuel line, who knows what could have happened." Bradley said.

You know what would have happened.

"Maybe we should start calling you Angel instead of Hades." Bradley chuckles. "Seeing how you were watching out for me, it fits." You pause and stare at him.

"You know, because Hades is the God of death, but you were like a guardian angel looking out for me today." He tries to explain to you.

"Trust me, Roo. I'm no angel." You say with a hint of sadness in your voice.

"Too late." Bradley fires back. "I've already decided, that's your new nickname. Now, I will see you at the Hard Deck so we can rub it in Jake's face that you were the first one to take down Mav—Angel." Bradley smirks at you before disappearing into the men's locker room.

You shake your head

If only he knew

You quickly shower and change. You knew you were going out with the team tonight, so you remember to pack something nice to wear. You slip into a black body body suit that has a tasteful amount of cleavage that is accentuated by the lace of the bralette you have on underneath it.

A dark pair of ripped jeans and black ankle boots complete the look. You tie a flannel shirt around your waist just in case it gets chilly this evening.

You pull half of your hair up away from your face before applying some very out of regs make-up. Just because you were going there to keep up appearances didn't mean you had to look like a slob when doing it.

There was something about fashion that made you feel powerful. And if Bradley just so happened to like it and give you a little extra attention, what was the harm in that?

"And Aphroditie thinks she's the pretty one." You chuckle to yourself after you swipe your final coat of lipstick on.

.............

Jake let's out a low wolf-whistle the second he sees you approaching the corner pool table that the Daggers take up residence at every time they are at the Hard Deck.

"What do we have here? If it ain't Hades." He calls out as you approach them. "And here I thought I we were the good-looking ones, Coyote." Jake chuckles as he approaches you. You roll your eyes and grab the pool stick out of his hand.

He goes to protest, but you don't pay him any attention. You line up a shot and look up just in time to lock eyes with Rooster. You hold eye contact with him and give him a crimson smile as the ball drops into the pocket.

"Eat your heart out, Bagman." Jake stands there looking at you bewildered with some shot glasses in his hand. You take one and down the liquid before handing it back to him. "While you're doing that, I think we all could use another round. Why don't you be a dear and grab it for us. "You wink at him as you make your way around the table to Rooster.

"You sure know how to make an entrance." Bradley says as you walk up to him. You don't miss the way his eyes linger on you as he takes in your form. "You look—good." He tells you.

"Maybe if you wore something besides Hawaiian shirts and shaved that dorky mustache, you'd look good too." You tease him. A wide smile spreads over his face.

"You are something else, Angel." He laughs.

"What did I say about calling me that?" You say, putting your hands on your hips.

"And I already told you, I didn't care. What are you going to do? Pull rank on me again to get me to stop?" He states as his voice drops and octave.

You stand up on your tiptoes and whisper in his ear, "You'd like that, wouldn't you, Lieutenant Commander?" A teasing smirk tugs at the corner of your lips when you settle back down.

Okay, you were definitely flirting

Rooster cocks his head to the side before settling a hand on your hip and drawing you closer to him. You let out as surprised gasp as you feel the hairs of his mustache prickle against your ear. "Maybe I would. What are you going to do about it?" He breathes out before walking away like nothing happened.

It takes you a minute to reset your brain. You can't believe he just did that.

Oh Gods

You were fucked

...............

Later that night, you stroll down the hallway to your apartment. You fiddle with your key and unlock the door.

"Cerby, Hydra, I'm home!" You call out to your pets. Normally, your dog and cat both rush to greet you at the door, but tonight they don't.

You flick on the hall light and kick off your shoes before calling out to them. They still don't come. Your apartment is quiet—too quiet. You stay still and listen.

You run your right hand over your left forearm and pull out the dagger for your rose and dagger tattoo. The ink materializes into heavy iron and steel in your hand. You hear a commotion in the kitchen.

You stalk silently towards the room, ready to attack whoever is there. You take a deep breath before popping around the corner.

But once you do, you stop in your tracks.

"Minthe?" You ask as you see her standing in your kitchen with Cerby and Hydra.

"Hades, love, I'm so glad you're home! Why don't you take a seat. We need to talk.

Taglist: @thedroneranger @roosterscock @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @mayhemmanaged @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @cassiemitchell @na-ta-sh-aa @milestellerlover @katieshook02 @mak-32 @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @sometimesanalice @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @djs8891 @roosters-girl @sebsxphia @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @gretagerwigsmuse @sunlightmurdock @withahappyrefrain @lt-spork @multifandomlover4life @lewmagoo @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @roosterisdaddy36 @itsdesiree86 @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @asshlyyyy @inkandarsenic

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[wingedcat13]

Synovus: Siren Call (1)

[Surprise! Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me! I took a break from writing these for a bit, but I did want to get through the idea I had about something from Minerva's perspective. This one is in third person, set after Villains Never Retire. No idea what I'm talking about? Check out the first of the Synovus works here! There'll be a bit of a delay, but this one will join the rest of the Synoverse up on Ao3 here. How many parts will this be? I've learned my lesson, I'm not estimating.]

Minerva had stopped expecting her life to be ‘normal’ before she’d graduated High School.

When at 16 you were already having to downplay your physical strength to avoid taking doors off of their hinges, and realizing that you could never, ever join the swim team even if you could absolutely destroy any of the times they posted, there were a few other things your mind put together in the background.

Like the fact that you would never be safe again.

Hiding things about herself wasn’t exactly conducive to the kind of relationship she wanted, so romance was dead. That was fine at the time, actually, most of the people she’d been interested in had turned out to be more interested in… well, a variety of things ranging from other people to free emotional support. The point was, she’d been more upset by the idea that any of her personal goals for a career were now permanently marred by the terror that she’d have to do some kind of blood test that would brand her as a ‘cape.’

And that it would have to be hidden was never even a question. Sure, there were heroes around who people were proud of when she was younger. But every so often, those heroes would go out to fight, and be seen again as scorched remains in a crater left by a man called Sunhallow. Other villains, too. People said he was targeting anyone who might be a threat to him if they didn’t work for him.

Kids in her classes had mostly made fun of the costume.

Even after Sunhallow’s disappearance and rumored death, when she was in her senior year, people were wary. Things like Sunhallow didn’t just die. They always came back. There was always a second shoe to drop.

And no one knew about her then, not yet, so she thought maybe... maybe she could live a little?

Going off to college had felt like the last chance she had at any degree of ‘normalcy’ and even that was tempered by the gnawing sense of something missing, something wrong. She’d put it down to anxiety about her classes and pushed through it, sure it would eventually pass.

Minerva hadn’t been a teenager for about two decades now. But that sense of… something missing had never really gone away.

She'd experimented with drinking and with a few variations on marijuana, and a variety of at-home remedies like aromatherapy and meditations. She'd tried a therapist, twice, even though she felt like she couldn't tell them everything about herself, and she knew that kind of defeated a lot of the point of therapy. And that gnawing feeling continued, until it seemed stranger to imagine a world without it.

There were times it was so muted, so quiet that she could forget about it - when she was in a fight, or diving, or when Alexandria had been little. Sometimes Albion could drive it away, and make her feel sane.

But she’d never felt quite as… at peace, as she did when she was in costume. That was the only time, the only place, that the sense of something missing really faded away.

Plenty of people had told her that every cape had something deeply wrong with them, to be the kind of person to do what they did. Minerva had never corrected them.

—-

“You’re awake early.”

Minerva glanced over one shoulder, unsurprised to see Synovus draped against half of her doorframe. She’d left the door open, and Synovus was very carefully on the edge where she could shut the door in their face, if she’d wanted. Trying not to be an intrusion, even as they unrepentantly stuck their metaphorical nose into her business.

“Judging by your face, you haven’t slept.” Minerva said critically.

Synovus made a noise of mock dismay, and Minerva risked giving them a closer look. Yes, the bags under their eyes were more pronounced than usual, and their hair was a barely-contained mess, but none of that worried her. The haphazard state of their clothing was, frankly, par for the course around the island these days.

“Evil never sleeps, m-Minerva.” The slip up was slight, covered for quickly and smoothly. Once, she wouldn’t have caught it. Now, she knew Synovus better.

‘My Dear Minerva,’ they’d almost said.

Minerva ignored it.

“I’m taking that trip to the mainland I talked about.” She explained, turning her back on the most confusing human being she’d ever known in favor of checking her case’s contents for the third time.

Synovus hummed, and Minerva stiffened on reflex. She relaxed almost as quickly, but still mentally scolded herself. Synovus hummed when they were uncertain of themselves, not to try and trap her into an argument. They’d said several times that she was both welcome to stay and to leave at her discretion.

This was normal. This was fine.

“If you should… need anything, while you’re out there-“ Synovus was picking their words carefully, skirting around potential condescension or worry to come off as affable, almost disinterested. It didn’t really work.

“I will be fine.” Minerva says firmly, turning to glare if need be.

Instead, she meets Synovus’s gaze. Their eyes are clear for the moment, no shadows flickering, no lights swirling. Instead, the only thing she sees in them is… confidence.

“I know.” Synovus says, and even the faint lilt of humor isn’t enough to hide the certainty in that statement. They clear their throat, “I have no misgivings about your strength and ability to use it, Lady Minerva. But, should you wish to be better than ‘fine’ while out and about in the world…”

They trail off, and Minerva wonders, idly, if it’s possible to push them so far into discomfort that they start using ‘thee’ instead of ‘you.’ She’d rather think about that than the sheer faith Synovus had in her, and what that might mean aside from further proof Synovus was -

There were too many ways to finish that sentence. Her mind rejected all of them with a studious determination before Synovus realized she wasn’t going to finish their sentence either.

“… you will call?” They asked softly.

A few months ago, Minerva might’ve sneered at the implication she would ever ask Synovus for anything. But then she’d been captured, ‘outmaneuvered’ by a pair of up-and-coming villains with a hostage trick, and then each and every one of her backup plans came crashing down when her daughter had been thrown into a trap right beside her.

And then there had been rain in the desert, and the sound of a Villain’s taunt ringing through the spire’s PA system, and eventually - Synovus themself, there to take both of them home. Even if they’d had several reasons to do it that had nothing to do with her, or Alexandria.

“One day, Minerva.” Synovus had murmured then, “I'm going to prove to you that my affection for you is not a trap”

“I’ll call when I’m on my way back to the island.” Minerva said coolly now, closing a mental door on the reverie. “If only so you don’t wake your entire staff in a panic.”

Synovus winced. A week prior, the sensors that alerted any Cape’s approach to the island had mis-triggered, mistaking a particularly dense patch of seagulls for someone with flight making an unauthorized approach. Watching the way everyone leapt to alarm stations and fell immediately into place had been impressive. Watching a sleep deprived Synovus throw their helmet at the birds (and miss) once they’d realized what had happened had been hilarious.

"Who's panicking?" The bleary voice comes from behind Synovus, and they shift aside to let Alexandria through.

Minerva's wayward teenage daughter looked like she was still contemplating waking up - like her body had just gotten ahead of schedule, and the rest of her hadn't caught up yet. Synovus ruffled her hair affectionately as she passed.

"No one yet, though the night's still young." Synovus replied, while Alexandria stepped forward to hug Minerva.

Minerva was still trying to learn not to hug too tightly, every time something happened. Logically, she knew there was nowhere in the world safer than Synovus's island. And she knew her daughter could defend herself.

But Minerva had been afraid of losing her long before she'd ever been born, and that fear didn't die easy.

"It's seven in the morning." Minerva scolded over Alexandria's shoulder.

Synovus frowned, and made a show of finding their phone to squint at the time it displayed. Their frown deepened, as though they had caught the bit of technology lying to them.

Alexandria had shifted from a full hug to standing to one side, still leaning on Minerva. "I'll call Rosie." She threatened. The yawn that cut her off kept her from living up to her chosen moniker.

Synovus shrugged, slipping the phone back into a pocket. "I won't sleep any faster if they're yelling at me." They point out. "Anyway, your mother-" It was always 'your mother' in front of Alexandria, "-agreed to call ahead on her way back. So we don't get another birdstrike scenario."

"It'd be more like the time with the dolphins." Alexandria remarked. Minerva raised a brow, looking from her daughter back to Synovus, who turned both hands palm up and looked mildly chagrined.

"Nevermind, I'm sure I don't want to know." Minerva says, waving it off both to avoid the headache, and because she's still itching to get going.

Alexandria knows the tone well enough - she gives Minerva another squeeze, then slips away to join Synovus by the doorway. She yawns again, and calls back over her shoulder, "Tell Gran and Gramps I said hi."

When she's gone again, Synovus and Minerva consider each other - one hesitant, the other wary. After a moment, Synovus extends a hand, offering, "Safe travels."

Minerva checks their palm for a sign of something they might be trying to slip her before shaking it. "Thanks." She said flatly.

And if she finds herself rubbing her fingers on the walk down to the beach, well, it's a subconscious tic. Unrelated.

---

There’s a common phrase that’s worked it’s way into becoming a whole saying.

“You never forget your first.”

For most people, that’s a marker of a degree of intimacy - a first crush, a first kiss, a first sexual experience. But it holds true for other things as well - like a first horrific allergic reaction. And arguments can be made that that’s all love really is, anyway.

Among the caped community, there’s a different list of firsts. The first person you told about your abilities. The first time you found out you had abilities. The first other hero you’d ever met. A popular ice breaker at parties is ‘the first person you ever saved.’

Less popular are the counterpoints: the first person you couldn’t save. The first villain you encountered. The first time you had to choose in the heat of a moment, and you chose wrong.

For Minerva, a terrifying amount of her caped ‘firsts’ have the same name - Albion.

He’d been the first person to find out about her abilities, and the first powered person she’d ever met face to face. A misunderstanding wherein he thought she’d been swept out to sea by a riptide and she assumed the figure dropping from the sky was out to get her had resulted in a very confused half-fight, wherein they’d saved each other from their own nonsense.

She’d thought once that that was how it would always be - saving each other. Things had turned out more in favor of the slap-fighting and misunderstandings.

—-

Minerva is working up the courage to get out of her car when her phone buzzes.

Alex: So how’s it going?

Despite herself, Minerva smiles, just a little. She can’t put her finger on why, and doesn’t try to.

Min: I’ve only just gotten here. Haven’t even knocked on the door yet.

Alex: Okay, then how was the drive?

Min: It was fine.

Minerva grimaces. That feels insufficient. She wracks her memory for something else to add, but the drive was hardly anything, nothing stands out. Before she can come up with something else, there’s a response:

Alex: Y’know, I should’ve offered to fly you over.

Minerva raises an eyebrow.

Min: And why’s that?

Alex: I still want to let you talk to them alone and everything, but they could’ve just seen me drop you off, and been like “who’s that really cool goth girl?”

Alex: And you could say something like “I have much to tell you” and bam, ice broken.

Min: Is Synovus giving you advice on dramatic entrances?

Alex: You never told me that one time they stole a whole cruise ship for the ambiance.

Min: Is that what they’re calling it?

Minerva’s mouth twitches again. Yes, Synovus had commandeered a cruise ship, and spent the whole fight spouting off about how it was good to have ‘variety’ in one’s combat scenarios. They’d also convinced part of the ship’s entertainment crew to set up a big ‘reveal’ of who had taken over the ship, as though anyone else would’ve bothered to think of musical cues.

She’d been tempted to sink the ship.

While Alexandria goes briefly radio-silent - presumably to grill Synovus for more details on the cruise ship story - Minerva looks up towards the house she’s never seen before.

It’s a relatively unassuming one-story. It’s ten minutes on foot from here to where the coast starts, and she could have her feet in the water by the fifteen minute mark. The sound of the waves is different here than it is on the island - there aren’t any cliffs or underwater tunnels, only the long smooth curve of a beach made more of rocks than sand. It’s soothing.

A twitch of a curtain in one window reminds her she’s looking at the house, not the ocean. Mentally, she scolds herself for wasting time.

She allows herself one last white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, and one last deep breath.

Then Minerva gets out of her car, and goes to talk to the parents she hasn’t seen in seven years.

—-

When Minerva became a hero, it went something like this:

She’d always been a strong swimmer. Her family lived near the water line, always, so it wasn’t unusual for her to come into contact with the ocean at least once a day, when the weather was fair, and rain or snow when it wasn’t.

Her parents had always seemed overly cautious about calling her out of the water before it got too cold, or before she could get too tired, but that’s any child’s perspective. She wouldn’t get sick from a bit of splashing around, even if there were frost films on the windows and flurries in the air. And as she got older, they trusted her to know her limits more and more, and her confidence had only grown.

Which was why, when they’d seen the small crowd gathering at the road not far from where they lived at the time and heard the murmurs that someone had been swept out to sea, Minerva had been absolutely certain that she could save them.

She’d gone home, put on her wetsuit, and been out of her window in minutes. It wasn’t hard to find a cove out of sight of the news crews and nervous watchers. And even as the light was dimming, she didn’t feel afraid.

Because once Minerva was in the water, nothing could touch her.

It wasn’t as though she didn’t feel the currents, the motions of the waves - she did. They just didn’t have sway over her unless she allowed it. It wasn’t as though she couldn’t tell the light was darkening, or the temperature falling - she could. They were just minor shifts, like the movement of a sunbeam across her arms while she read in the windowsill.

So Minerva had swept out on the same current that had ripped a man from the shallows, and looked for the signs of a person’s floundering.

This, admittedly, had been the weakest part of her plan, because she had no idea how to find someone in the vast expanse of potential that was the ocean. All she really had going for her was that she was fast, could manually follow the currents, and didn’t get cold. And, she eventually realized, she might’ve been looking for a corpse instead of a person, and how would she find that?

Those doubts had just had time to start to settle when she found him.

Minerva never did learn his name, but he was a few years older than her, there visiting his family, which was why he hadn’t known the signs he needed to look out for. He knew what a riptide was, and that he was supposed to try and swim parallel to shore to escape it, but everything happened so fast and it was so cold, that all he could really do was tread water. At least, that’s the story she got out of him as she towed him back to shore.

The only time her courage had faltered had been when he’d asked for her name, after she’d brought him to the secluded cove, and directed him towards the crowd.

“You saved my life.” He’d explained, still dazed and weak. “Who do I - how do I thank you?”

And there had been a sudden feeling of ice water down her spine, as she’d remembered the stories of what happened to people who were saviors.

“Tell them a Naiad saved you.” She’d called, moving back into the waves. “It’s true enough!”

There’d been speculation that he misheard her, and that her name was ‘Maya’ for a while. But in the end, the story faded - and Minerva never forgot.

—-

There’s no good, simple way to repair a cut tie with someone you love.

Whether things frayed until they snapped, withered and disintegrated, or were cut cleanly, that thread can never be respun. You have to start over, and try and weave with the tangled threads of what’s left.

Sometimes the threads are still the same color - soft pastels of passing friendships that blend well enough when they’re given the opportunity. Sometimes you find that while you weren’t looking (and sometimes when you were) the threads have been dyed, and the red that meant love once has been shot through with the purples of bruises and resentment, its original hues shifted to rage. That was what Minerva expected to find, when she came home. That’s what most of her own tapestry looked like these days, after all.

Instead, she found the golden honey color of home.

—-

It took a few hours for them to all wind up at the kitchen table. They’d covered for some of the awkwardness by showing her the house - her father’s most recent crochet project, pictures of last year’s garden, how her mother had finally decided to organize the spice cabinet after six years of deliberation and relabeling.

(She’d frowned and swapped two canisters while Minerva’s father wasn’t looking, and Minerva nearly cried at the familiarity of it.)

Then had come the insistence of refreshments, of warm drinks against the coolness of the weather. The porch was a bit damp, and the living room a bit dark, but the table was mostly clear so long as she didn’t mind shuffling aside a few skeins of yarn, would that do?

And so they’d settled in, as the rain drummed softly into the roof and dripped from the overhang that shielded the window. And her father had taken a breath, met her eyes, and said,

“We love you. And you don’t owe us a damn thing.”

Minerva had blinked. That wasn’t what she was expecting.

Her mother nodded firmly, adding, “Not an explanation, not an apology - if you want to talk about any of it, Min, you know - I want you to know - that we’ll listen, anytime, anywhere. But if all you want is to come over for dinner, then that’s all we’ll do.”

Minerva stared at her cup, trying to think of where to begin. What would be polite - no, they didn’t stand on manners with family. What would be right- well, by whose standards? What did she want?

Finally, she croaked, “I think I - I want you to ask.”

And so they did.

And so Minerva told them.

She told them about how she’d become slowly convinced that her continued nearness to them was putting them in danger. She told them about how Albion was always reminding her of the need to be cautious, the importance of not ever being caught. She told them about how sometimes he’d bring up the Sunhallow purges, and try to make a plan for what they’d do if it ever happened again.

She told them about how he’d begged her to make the move, citing crime rates and health statistics and population graphs, anything to get her to concede they would be better - safer - away from the city, further inland. If not for her, then for their child. And how she’d eventually caved, because if he was so worried, and this would bring him more peace of mind, then she could bear it. It would keep the people she loved safe.

She told them about how she’d tried to look into finding a place near water - a lake, a pond, a river. Every time, Albion had assured her that he was keeping that in mind, but that he’d handle it, really. She didn’t need to stress, especially when she was keeping up with so much otherwise. He admired her for being able to manage so much, the house and the hero gig, and could he just do this one thing for her?

She told them about how the house had been twenty minutes away from the nearest large water source. About how she’d begged him for something - anything. A koi pond. A pool. A goddamned well.

“Think about how that would look to the neighbors, ‘Thena.” He’d said worriedly. “I know you - you get underwater and you don’t come out for hours. They’ll think you’re drowning yourself.”

So they’d bought the largest tub she could find, and she’d spent as much time as she could submerged in it, staring at its porcelain sides and the bathroom lighting and feeling like a fish in a bowl. She’d told herself it was a selfish thought.

She told them about how he would sometimes grab her too roughly, or slam things around her. Sometimes it was a joke, played off as training her instincts. Sometimes it wasn’t.

“I just - you’re the only person in the whole world I can let my guard down around.” He’d muttered to her, mid-apology after a shove had left her sternum aching and purple. “I love you so much, I don’t stop to think.”

Somehow, she’d wound up being the one comforting him.

And she chokes out how having accepted those reasons made it easier to believe them herself, when Alex had the occasional bruise. When she reached out to slap her hand away from something, or pulled a bit too roughly. It felt like validation for everything Albion had said - look, it was easy to fall into. It didn’t mean anything.

It happened all the time.

And there was no one, by then, to tell her otherwise, because friendships were liabilities and risks that they couldn’t take, because it wasn’t right to endanger others with a secret they would never share. There were no work friends. No PTA rivalries. No soccer parent associations.

There was only the house, and the freedom that came from going out in costume. And even then, there could be no interviews, and every statement had to be carefully measured so that no one - not a villain, or a civilian, or even another hero - could learn something they shouldn’t.

Laying it out like this, Minerva realizes that it’s no wonder she only ever felt like herself in a fight. It was the only time she didn’t have to hold back any part of who she was.

She’s expecting her parents to condemn her for not realizing when she’d turned from - (her mind skitters away from the term ‘abused’) bystander to accomplice in Albion’s behavior. She’s expecting hurt that she didn’t trust them to make their own decisions about risks. She’s expecting them to say they taught her better than this.

Instead, they listen. Even when there are times one or both tightens their grip on their mugs, or wrestles to avoid showing some emotion (because it is no mystery where she got her temper; none of them are strangers to righteous rage) they do not interject outside of the quiet, prompting questions. And when she finally stumbles to a halt, before she’s even gotten to Synovus and the kidnapping, her mother comes to kneel beside her and wrap her arms around her, while her father stands at her other shoulder and does the same.

“You’re free now?” Her mother asks, running her fingers through Minerva’s hair. “You and Alex both?”

Minerva nods. She clears her throat, enough to force two words out, “Albion’s dead.”

She realizes that there’s an implication there, that she wielded the spear that killed him. The idea doesn’t hurt as much as it would’ve once - but neither of her parents so much as blink.

“Good.” Her mother says firmly. “Then that’s all you need to focus on right now, Min. No matter how long it takes you to untangle the knots he’s tied you in - you’re free.”

—-

Truth be told, Minerva doesn’t know when her parents figured out she had powers. For all she knows, they had known since she was born.

But one night, when she and Albion had been staying with her parents for a week, and they’d gone out to fight, they came back to see one of her parents on the porch, the other in the windowsill.

“You’re both alright?” Her father had asked.

No surprise. No exclamations. No how-could-yous. Concern. Acknowledgement. A reminder of when breakfast would be ready.

And that was that.

—-

The guest room in their new house isn’t the same as a childhood bedroom, but to Minerva, it feels similar. She’s under their roof again, with all the reflexive memories and half-forgotten ones tugged along with them.

She had expected to feel… well, different. Not good, probably kind of bad. And she didn’t feel lighter yet, the way people said confessions were supposed to make you feel. Instead, Minerva felt… raw. Sticky. Like the truth she’d tried to ‘set free’ had just come back to cling to her.

She was too emotionally exhausted to try and parse that. Better to get some sleep, if she could.

Minerva unzipped her suitcase, flipping it open on the bed. Her suitcase, that she’d checked so many times over. The suitcase with all of her clothing and things in perfect organization, untouched.

And a postcard sitting loose on top of them.

It had to have been custom-made. There was no stamp, for one thing, no actual postal markings. Just the same shape and size, with the same stylized ‘Wish you were here’ emblazoned across a picture… a picture of Synovus. On the beach. In full costume. With the necessary additions of a woven wide-brim hat and loose Hawaiian floral shirt left unbuttoned, on top of the helmet and body armor. They were holding a glass of juice with a little umbrella and a silly straw.

Alone in this bedroom that wasn’t hers, but might’ve been, Minerva burst out laughing.

#Synoverse #Siren Call #Naiad #Synovus #tw abuse mention #Did I sit on this for an absurdly long time? #Yes #Did I know immediately that I wanted that fucking postcard to be in this piece? #Also yes

[ryuichirou]

Replies

More replies~

Anonymous asked:

Do you watch other adult swim cartons like moral orel or the venture bros?

Not really, sorry :( Nothing against these shows, I guess we just don’t gravitate towards them. Venture Bros was recommended to us though.

Anonymous asked:

"Nooo Ortho wanted to slurp this one" not a problem at all, i don't mind sharing uwu uhuhuhuh sorry for cursing the askbox so soon too XDDD i couldn't help it

Ah it’s so nice when people share… uwu

No worries btw, every single thing in this blog is cursed one way or another, so it really fits xD

Anonymous asked:

No bc the way your fem idia is just insanely body goals

Omg Anon, thank you?? I don’t think if she should be body goals though, she’s kind of too skinny for her height… she just has a high metabolism genetically I guess, I’m pretty sure any other means of achieving her appearance would be unhealthy...

Anonymous asked:

I never thought about ADeuce in the future, but the idea of them being together without really committing to a relationship makes a lot of sense.

I imagine a similar scenario for Ruggie/Leona. They wouldn't even see eachother that frequently, but they still keep in touch and hook up whenever they do meet. They are not just keeping this up because it's beneficial to them, they actually seem to enjoy eachother's company. It's not anything close to dating, and they would never call it love, but I feel like that's the highest level of commitment you can get from either of them. Also Ruggie would probably spend a lot of time working, leaving the Sunset Savanna quite often. If he sees a chance to bag some extra cash he is not going to let a little distance stop him! Meanwhile Leona is just hanging around the royal court. Has he given up on his plan to help the poor people of his country or is he cooking something? Honestly not even Ruggie knows...

(this is related to the 6th reply from this post)

ADeuce really are a bit annoying like that, but I love them for it. Everyone knows you want to be together, guys. You’re just being stubborn for the sake of being stubborn, because you’re too afraid the other party is going to ridicule you for expressing your feelings that both of you are already aware of, because you’ve been sleeping together for years, COME! ON!

Also everything you said about Ruggie/Leona makes sense! Ruggie is too busy and focused on his job(s) to start a family, and Leona is either plotting something or just doing nothing being unmotivated… so whenever they have an opportunity to do so, hooking up sounds logical: why not? It’s definitely not love and not a romantic relationship, but it is a relationship nonetheless… a mutually beneficial one, but also a surprisingly “comfortable” one because both of them are so used to this dynamic that doesn’t require any emotional effort. They’re surprisingly on the same page.

Anonymous asked:

i might have written an OC spanking Riddle once :eyes: usually i just see characters and readers or OCs being spanked by Riddle, but he would be so cute being spanked! teary eyed, confused and flustered, his ass clearly needs attention

(this is related to the 2nd reply from this post)

I know right? For some reason it just works. Maybe it’s because of his backstory and him being so very serious but also so immature, but if you imagine a spanking scenario with Riddle, it’s like… he belongs there lol

Anonymous asked:

About how young was Silver when he and Lilia first started fuckin 🤔 honestly I'm super interested in what those early days would have looked like, and how their first few times would go

Honestly, it depends on whatever route you want to take for any specific post/art/comic/etc, and I feel like with us it’s always a very vague and implied “kind of young”.

We explain it with Lilia having uhh alternative views on parenting, it’s like a mix of him being a fae (turns out, this doesn’t excuse him 😔), him not knowing how children work and him adoring Silver way too much and having too much fun with him. He’s not the best person lol So yeah, Silver was probably way too young to figure out what’s going on, but also this whole thing was a “norm” to him, because it also happened very gradually: the goodnight kisses became more mature, the way they cuddle changed; and with Silver absolutely adoring Lilia, trusting him so much and believing that Lilia only wants what’s best for him, he never had a problem with any of it. Even the first times weren’t too much of a shock to him, especially since Silver considered it to be some special type of training that he really wanted to get good at as soon as possible.

The Zigvolts would’ve been terrified if they found out…….

#replies #lilisil

[teamrocketmemes]

[ TOTAL DRAMA WORLD TOUR SONGS ] — PART 1

A lyric starter call from the songs heard in the third season of Total Drama. Feel free to change pronouns when necessary to fit your needs.

Come Fly With Us

“We're flying and we're singing!”

“We've got a lot 'o crazy tunes to bust!”

“What did you expect? [Name] is freaking insane.”

“Come fly with us! Come die with us!”

“All contestants must sing in each show!”

Lovin’ Time

“No need to get crazy. It's lovin' time at last!”

“We're mostly full of gas. No, no!”

“And make out till the break of dawn!”

“Scarab mating season.”

“Lovin' time, lovin' time…”

Rowin Time

“Crocodile amigos, what'cha swarmin' for?”

“These crocs are getting killy!”

“Just bop 'em on the nose! I learned that in Muskrat Boys, it vanquishes all foes!”

“All of us are sinkin'!”

“It's rowin' time!”

Before We Die

“We're singing as we're falling!”

“Our lives begin to flash before our eyes!”

“'Cept there's tons we wanna do before we die!”

“But first we must cease dropping, our goal here would be stopping!”

“Pizza! No! Chips and some dip will do!”

Stuck to a Pole

“The strings of my heart are a tangled mess!”

“I ended up stuck to a pole!”

“I fell for every little thing that he said!”

“He's moved on, I'm still stuck in this place!”

“Stuck, stuck, stuck to a pole!”

What’s Not To Love

“The crime is high! The pigeons fly!”

“The dirt and grime make every alley shine!”

“What's not to love about New York?”

“It's crazy, 'cause the city never sleeps!”

“And pretzel stands for all us pretzel fans!”

Baby

“I'm just that brainiac guy left alone to sit and cry.”

“Quench my thirst... for knowledge.”

“I just gotta know… How'd you get so hot?”

“Cause when you walk in the room, nobody lookin' the same!”

“I swear you're changing my molecular structure.”

I’m Sorry

“And I'm sorry, like a mitten that's been dropped and feels so lost.”

“Sorry like a surfer who's busted her board!”

“International TV, huh? In front of all my friends!”

“And if you give me one more chance… I'll do my happy, happy dance!”

“I'm so incredibly, wildly, madly, crazily… Oh, so completely, infinitely, beyond… Sorry.”

Eine Kleine

“Keep it down, so I can win the loot!”

“Toot on, but you're still out of luck.”

“When you don't hold back and lead the pack, truly there is nothing stopping you.”

“Swimming in your eyes, it's butterflies.”

“Wait, something's itching in my brain!”

The Amazon Rap

“We should have just gone left.”

“Now if he gets bitten…”

“Tied up, rope is no joke!”

“Ain't having the luck that I anticipated.”

“Probably means I'm eliminated.”

Paris in the Springtime

“It's the city of love in the summer!”

“[Name] broke my heart and chewed it up and spit it out and then, stepped on it and threw it down a sewer and called it names and then laughed!”

“Oui, my friends! You must never trust a boy!”

“Um, non, my friend. That thing just burned off my shoe.”

“And the boy won't even take you outside-eee!”

Sea Shanty Mix

“I'll have the shrimp, mussels, cod, and the lobster thermidor!”

“I can't get a thing to bite, so we better get there first!”

“It's a sea shanty, and it's darn catchy!”

“[Name], you're a nut-bar, but you sure can catch a fish!”

“No, you can't catch me, with a sea shanty!”

Oh My Izzy

“I miss the way Izzy said hello.”

“Actually, she kinda dumped you.”

“I miss her smile and the way she liked to bite.”

“Oh, I miss the way, she'd always say goodnight.”

“Why'd I ever let you go?”

Save This Show

“Jamaica, they can't even Ja-party.”

“You've gotta help now, we're on the brink.”

“Give us cash or this show dies!”

“So call the numbah!”

“Give it some love and some dough.”

Sisters

“You think you rule the game, I guess.”

“But you don't rule a thing, 'cause baby, you're a squid!”

“You lied right to my face, and messed up my head!”

“And ain't that just the way with men?”

“Sisters, come together now and take him down!”

#★ mod james. #★ our memes. #sentence starters #rp meme #ask meme #inbox meme #musical memes #cartoon memes

[bonesandthebees]

I am fighting my bias to go straight for the Wilbur-Phil conversation so hard right now. Anyway, remember a while back, and I have no idea how long, I made the comparison for Wilbur without Niki vs. Wilbur without Tommy. Well, I did not think I would get the see both of them, yet here we are.

I think I said something along the lines of, without Niki, Wilbur is only functioning at half capacity because everything takes extra energy without his support system. Meanwhile, without Tommy, Wilbur isn’t really functioning at all. Tommy is his sense of purpose in life. His entire life has been based around him. It’s his lighthouse, his guiding light. But now he is underwater and he can’t see the light anymore and he is so so lost.

It feels like he is dying. He feels like he is dying. Yet he’s still alive. It’s harder to breathe, but he’s not drowning. There’s a going hole in his chest and he’s bleeding out but he’s not dead. Also, can I just say that the transition from the metaphor and Wilbur walking around like a shell of himself to Techno was so damn cool? I loved that bit.

Anyway, as has been established, Tommy is Wilbur’s entire world and an entire life of brotherhood can’t just be erased. So, Wilbur still cares, he cares so damn much. So every chance he gets, he asks how Tommy is doing. He even eavesdrops on Ranboo and Aimesy to see what he can learn about Tommy. He made the conscious decision to leave the door open.

And he’s angry at Tommy, he’s so so mad, but he’s no longer in the heat of the moment. He’s no longer lashing out like a hurt/cornered animal, so he does not want to hurt his brother. Not even indirectly. And when he finds out that he is, even though none of it is whitin his control (well, most of it, he can’t exactly ask Phil to give him a different room, like he could, but he had no part in the decision to be in the personal wing so why would he get any choice in getting out?)

1/2

-🌲

OKAY SPRUCE you sent a lot of asks lol so I'm gonna slowly work through them over the next few days. but I'll start with a few rn! as always tysm i love seeing all your thoughts

yup :) without tommy, wilbur is completely lost for what to do. it's not just that he can't hold himself up, it's that he literally doesn't know how to function. if he's not there for tommy, what is he supposed to be doing? what's his goal? he doesn't have anything to guide him, so he's just lost under the waves swimming blindly

aaa thank you! I was proud of that transition bit I thought it was very fun to write

no matter how angry you are at your sibling you can't just cut yourself off from caring about them and thinking about them because of a single bad argument. wilbur is going to care about his brother no matter what. it's what he's done his entire life. he wants to know how tommy's doing, if he's okay, what's going on with him. he's furious with tommy still, but he doesn't want to hurt him anymore because he knows they've both been hurt. but he still doesn't feel bad enough to apologize. to try and make things right.

technically, wilbur could 100% ask to be moved out of the personal wing. there's no reason he can't. the only reason he didn't get a say was because he literally just passed out on the floor of phil's office and phil needed somewhere to put him while he slept. but he hasn't. the thought of asking to be moved hasn't even crossed his mind.

(newsflash: it's because wilbur wants to be there even if he doesn't realize it consciously)

#ask #spruce anon #the stars and their children

[alwaysaskerurihan]

Would you rather be turned into a duck or a wolf?

"An excellent question!" Hange beams as they chop vegetables in the kitchen. Next to them, Erwin is peeling potatoes and Levi is cleaning up around them and preparing the plates and cutlery. Hange's beam grows, their eyes flashing behind their glasses in a maniacal way. "That would be such different experiences, each equally interesting."

"Tch, what's so interesting about being a duck?" Levi argues as he scrubs at a counter, "apart from potentially being mauled or hunted."

"Seriously, Levi?" Hange asks, planting their knife on the chopping board and gripping the counter. "Do you really have to ask? Aside from the fact they can fly, and swim beautifully? Life at that height must be so interesting. What do we look like to them? What do they think about us?" Hange cackles a little. "I know you have a better idea of their perspective height-wise Levi but even so-" they tease.

"Shut it, Shitty glasses. Like hell I'd want to be a duck. A wolf has the greater chance of survival out of the two creatures." Levi argued.

Erwin pours himself a glass of wine. "It's an interesting question and you both make interesting points. What we're being asked, essentially, is what position in life do we take? And in turn, what kind of existence do we value? The wolf is a hunter. Yes, they have their family and their pack but they represent survival in challenging times. Ducks represent a much more laid back, but no less meaningful form of living, going along with every day life in a much less dangerous setting." He sips from his glass. "Such a question requires some thought, I would say, were it not for the titans."

"We can't afford to be ducks," Levi agrees, returning to scrubbing down one counter and moving onto another. "Four-eyes," he suddenly says, crossing over to where Hange is chopping vegetables again. "Try getting them on the board and not the floor." He puts his hands over theirs and moves them further onto the board, rolling his eyes when they giggle. He pecks them on the lips and moves away.

"Thank you," Hange grins and then leans towards Erwin who meets them halfway to bestow a more lingering kiss.

"You know," they continue after a few seconds, "when you think about our situation and the world we live in, it absolutely makes sense that none of us should choose wolves." They begin to slice more thinly. "We don't have the luxury of that kind of safety in this world but if we can imagine one where we're not living on the constant threat of danger," they continue. "What would you choose then? If we lived in safety?" They grab their own glass of wine and down it slowly. "I think I'd like to experience life as a duck. It's not like I'd be completely defenceless with my wings. The possibilities outweigh the dangers."

Levi puts down his cloth and turns to lean back on the counter, arms folded. "If you say so, Hange. But there's always danger about. People can be shit just as much as titans. There isn't a scenario in which I wouldn't choose to be a wolf over a duck."

"I'm inclined to agree with Levi on some of that," Erwin says as he tosses another spud into the pot. "Although ducks do possess a level of freedom and exploration that would be appealing to explore, wolves have strength and the resilience to move long distances on their side. That makes them more suited to my goals," he finished.

Hange laughs loudly. "A very diplomatic answer, Erwin. Maybe you should have gone into politics."

Erwin smiles. "Makes a change from you calling me a square for something like that.

"I thought I'd change it up a bit."

"I have a question," Levi, arms folded, eyes them both. "Who the fuck came up with a question like that?"

#ask erurihan #attack on titan #attack on titan ask #attack on titan rp #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin ask #shingeki no kyojin rp #erurihan #erurihan ask #erurihan rp #erwin smith #erwin smith ask #erwin smith rp #levi ackerman #levi ackerman ask #levi ackerman rp #hange zoe #hange zoe ask #hange zoe rp #would you rather?

[wham-bam-thank-you-jam-wrestling]

What a time to be a wrestling fan!

It's the biggest non-Wrestlamania wrestling weekend of the year, with 3 major shows and a ton of intrigue surrounding the main events of at least 2 of those shoes. As such I thought I might do a little preview for all three shows, attempting to predict what's going to happen in every match in as economical a fashion as I can.

I'll preview these events in chronological order and the matches on each card in the order they were listed on Wikipedia. Full disclosure, I think that Clash at the Castle had already got underway before I started transcribing these predictions (that I recorded on my mobile phone as I was out and about on Friday) into this blog.

WWE Clash at the Castle

Bailey, Dakota Kai & Io Sky vs. Bianca Belair, Asuka & Alexa Bliss

The heels need to go over here. It could have gone the other way had Sky and Kai won the Women's Tag Team Titles on RAW, but they didn't and this group still doesn't have a big win to hang their hats on. Belair hasn't taken an L since Extreme Rules 2021 as far as I'm aware, and she didn't take the pin in that match, so she can be on the losing side here,. Asuka or Bliss can take the pin. One of those two should also turn heel (I'm getting soon-to-be-heel vibes from Asuka right now) once they've distanced themselves a little from this programme.

Sheamus vs. Gunther

A Sheamus W wouldn't be the worst, but Gunther is the right call. Conventional logic suggests that either Sheamus or Drew needs to win in order to truly satisfy fans in attendance. Sheamus deserves something for the effort he has put into elevating middle material for who knows how long, but Gunther needs another big scalp. A W for Gunther does more for him and the IC Title than it does for Sheamus. Craft stories, not just moments. Even a quick hot shotting of the belt onto Sheamus and then back to Gunther would damage the effort that has been put into restoring the perceived prestige that has been built over the past couple of months.

The Judgement Day vs. Edge & Rey Mysterio

Finn Balor and Damien Priest should get the W because this stable is only now, FINALLY starting to get some momentum. They lost their last high-profile match - Edge over Priest in Toronto - so they come out on top here. Dominic costing Edge the victory ahead of an eventual full heel turn on his old man is a good way to go about this. The Dom tun feels both inevitable and hopeless, so you may as well roll the dice at this stage. You can't read water forever. It's sink or swim time, Dom.

Shayna Baszler vs. Liv Morgan

This one sucks either way. Liv wins clean and you're immediately undercutting Shayna's recent positive character development. Liv wins dirty and she looses the fans. Shayna wins clean and you've given up on Liv entirely, for now. Shayna wins dirty and both women look a little weaker or stupider but the story suffers. The best way to go is to rip off the band-aid as quickly as possible. Liv is young, give her a little break from the main event and rebuild her over the next 6-8 months. Just don't fumble at the goal line this time. This could be the last chance for a Shayna monster heel run and a big time feud with Ronda Rousey while they're both hot. Shayna wins, clean.

Matt Riddle vs. Seth Rollins

Give this one to Seth. His last win at a major show was the DQ win over Roman Reigns at the Royal Rumble in January and yet he hasn't lost any heat. Watching that one recently, the way it played out didn't put him over as much as I remember. The man is pretty much Teflon. You need to keep him at the top of the card because he is just that good. He can slide into the main event picture for a PLE or 3 when you need him to, or help elevate the tier below. This should be a luxury for WWE but feels more like a necessity at this point. Riddle can take an L here, particularly given this rivalry will likely continue into Extreme Rules.

Drew McIntyre vs. Roman Reigns

Roman has to win. Sorry, Wales (Scotland?). Roman's Title reign has to end in a way that makes someone new, not someone who has been hovering around the mid-card for almost 2 years, pinch-hitting in the main event. Drew deserves another reign at some point, just not now. The build over the last month or so has papered over the fact that there was almost no build at all up until then. The U.K. crowd will get over the "disappointing" end to the show. There are more fans out there than the ones in attendance and more fans will engage if the story is told properly. Besides, WWE aren't in Wales every week, they have more than enough time to reheat the crowd to ensure they sell out their next major event in that part of the world.

NXT World's Collide

Ricochet vs. Carmelo Hayes

Theoretically, this should be a banger. It's a strange use of Ricochet given the mini push he's had on Smackdown recently, but maybe that was more about the 2nd downfall of Happy Corbin? An L for either man isn't a great look. Hayes is brilliant but isn't quite ready for a move to the main roster; what would he do there? Ricochet can get his heat back on Smackdown with another W or 2, or by hanging out with Pat McAfee some more. Ricochet endorsing Carmello post-match could be on the cards.

Pretty Deadly vs. Gallus vs. Brooks Jensen & Josh Briggs vs. The Creed Brothers

Least enticing match of the entire weekend? Although there is that mixed tag on All Out. NXT might want Gallus to win here, so as to put The Creeds back in that chasing position. A better option is to keep the Creeds as the top dogs in the division. Throw a new challenge their way every week and when the time comes, make a new team by knocking them off. Schism are next on the dance card, right? This division is pretty weak right now.

Katana Chance & Kayden Carter vs. Doudrop & Nikki A.S.H

The main roster team should lose and then revert to their actual names before being given a better showing on RAW or Smackdown. Chance and Carter are fine here. Their promo saying how they had beaten all challengers on NXT lacked credulity but also spoke to the lack of thought put into this division. They're going to face Toxic Attraction once again after this. NXT need to build up some new teams while that feud plays out.

Blair Davenport vs. Meiko Satomura vs. Mandy Rose

Mandy is main roster-bound, surely. All three of Toxic Attraction will probably be on RAW or Smackdown by the end of the year. If Meiko is also headed in that direction then Davenport wins by default. It's not a bad outcome; there are plenty of good challengers lining up. Mandy should get a one-on-one rematch before she leaves. If Meiko is sticking around in non-developmental developmental, put the belts on her and let her do her thing for the next year or until she decides to hang up the boots really.

Tyler Bate vs. Bron Breakker

Bron wins. He is much further away from being main roster ready than most people realise. Also, he's going to look small when he gets there so will need to add some more interesting aspects to his character first. The incoming NXT UK talent should give him a handful more options to feud with over the next 6-8 months. Also, Apollo Crewes and Giovanni Vinci. Not sure where Tyler Bate goes after this. His character is interesting but doesn't scream "future face of the industry". Bate would make a good opponent for Carmelo Hayes, JD McDonagh or Tony D (conspicuous by his absence on this card), or an interesting foil for Grayson Waller. The NXT pecking order is hard to gauge.

AEW All Out

Tomohiro Ishii vs. Eddie Kingston

The brief history/hype package on Rampage was really good. Great match. Eddie wins.

Kip Sabian vs. Pac

A loss on return isn't a great look for Sabian but it's too early fo a title change. The match should be good. Hopefully it is competitive and both.

Angelo Parker vs. Hook

A really fun squash. Hook wins, obviously.

Tay Melo & Sami Guevara vs. Ruby Soho & Ortiz

Why? Intergender Titles are silly and not good silly. It's great that the talent gets a PPV payday but do we really need 15 matches on a single night show?

Bryan Danielson vs. Chris Jericho

It's pro wrestling blasphemy but I generally really like rather than love Danielson matches. Jericho matches have over delivered in 2022, Eddie Kingston and barbed wire aside. This one will be better than solid but has a ceiling. Danielson gets the win and moves back in the World Title picture. I'll explain further in a later prediction but AEW has made it really difficult for themselves with regards to that picture. It will be interesting to see how the Daniel Garcia piece of the puzzle fits here. He should side with Jericho for now, tease out the face turn a little longer. Jericho vs. Garcia at Full Gear?

Dr. Britt Baker D.M.D. vs. Hakaru Shida vs. Jamie Hayter vs. Toni Storm

I like this match. It's a bit of a no can't lose situation and a chance at a soft reset of the AEW Women's division, which has been a bit of a disaster, to be honest. Baker is a safe choice and is an all-around excellent performer. Shida is great and it would be fun if she swept in and won the (interim) Title after the other 3 and Thunder Rosa have spent so much time feuding amongst themselves in recent months. Toni Storm is slowly building a potential face-of-the-company type skillset. Hayter is the most interesting choice and the direction they should go. She'd be the least stale opponent for the returning Rosa. She should win that unification bout too.

House of Black vs. Miro, Darby Allin & Sting

Malakai Black and co. can't just keep losing and still be considered a threat to anyone. Sting can lose and still be Sting. Allin can cop a loss without losing too much heat. Miro shouldn't lose right now, but what can you do? Buddy Matthews will probably end up taking the pin and the feud will continue as HOB feuds tend to do. The match will be fantastic but I want more for everyone involved.

Athena vs. Jade Cargill

Cargill's run has been approximately 70% of what it could have been given some more competent booking. The lack of a compelling feud has been the main issue. This Athena programme threatened being that feud for "that bitch", but alas. Cargill should retain until (a) they build up the right succesor and (b) they know what she is going to do next.

Jungle Boy vs. Christian Cage

Or is it Jack Perry vs. Christian Cage? This hasn't landed as it should have despite solid work from all involved. The Luchasaurus stuff has been strange. If they think they can get more from the programme and want another go at getting Jungle Boy proper over they should extend the feud. Maybe have the big dinosaur man turn on Jungle Jack for real? Otherwise, put Jack Perry over and get him into a programme with another established heel. Jericho vs. Jungle Boys anyone?

Jay Lethal & The Motor Coty Machine Guns vs. Wardlow & FTR

The good guys obviously go over here. MCMG should probably turn on Jay and friends post-match. It's a shame they lost faith in Satnam Singh, or lost faith in Wardlow's ability to powerbomb Singh, because that was the hook for this match. The FTR and MCMG exchanges will be the highlight but I'm not sure where everyone goes after this. It's a shame MJF ruined the conclusion of Wardlow's last extended programme, but please give the big man something to sink his teeth into.

Casino Ladder Match

We've seen almost every combination of these performers in either singles or tag team action over the past 3 months, so it's difficult to get excited about yet another ladder match. It will be fun, no doubt, and the joker gimmick always holds some intrigue. It will probably be W.Morrisey and he will be the odds on favourite to win. Dante Martin getting a W because he's taken more than his share of Ls recently would be a plesant surprise. Whoever wins isn't winning the title.

The Acclaimed vs. Swerve In Our Glory

One of if not the weakest AEW Tag Team Title PPV matches ever. I feel bad for all 4 men; the booking of this division has become an afterthought. Swerve and Lee to win. Not enthused about whatever angle develops on the back of this.

Ricky Starks vs. Powerhouse Hobbs

I'm getting The Rock vs. Ken Shamrock circa 1998 vibes about this feud. Hobbs to win this match and potentially the feud but Ricky to be the breakout star. Starks looked strong on Rampage dispatching the entire Factory with ease. Hobbs is a beast and so much fun to watch. The feud should continue because there isn't enough space up the card for either man at the moment.

The Elite vs. Hangman Page & The Dark Order

The Elite are brilliant. Hangman is eternally endearing. The Dark Order are fun. Kenny and The Young Bucks will and it will be a great match. The Hangman interactions with Omega and Matt Jackson will be hot. The Elite melodrama will continue after this, which will be interesting because the Trios Titles will still need to be defended. Who will challenge for those belts? Do they get their own rankings? DO rankings still matter? Surely Adam Cole will be involved somehow, though he no longer has a team with him.

CM Punk vs. Jon Moxley

The first match was so unnecessary. You could have gotten to the exact same spot, with the exact same story beats without that match. now, if Moxley wins the Punk, arguably the biggest draw in the company, is ruined for the foreseeable future. If Punk wins clean then Moxley's first win means nothing. Also, it recontextualises all Mox's recent promos as the nonsense talk of a blowhard. Moxley won't cheat to win, so the best bet is to have Punk cheat or take shortcuts. Basically, Punk needs to turn heel. That's a tougher sell than it would be if the event weren't Chicago, but Mox and Punk can make it work. An MJF appearance is likely, in what capacity remains to be seen. MJF as a face doesn't really work long-term.

Finally, contemplating the immediate future of the AEW World Title picture, do they build Bryan Danielson vs. CM Punk for Full Gear? Danielson really needs to win the title on his next attempt, but that would make for another short AEW World Title reign; another reason they shouldn't have done the first Mox vs. Punk match.

Cheers.

#wwe #aew #nxt #roman reigns #drew mcintyre #clash at the castle #all out #cm punk #professional wrestling #bianca belair #wrestling #the usos #jon moxely #chris jericho #bryan danielson #mjf #bron breakker #sting #ronda rousey #shayna baszler #liv morgan #seth rollins

[yllowpages]

❝ It’s a maze. ❞

❝ Yeah. ❞ He exhales the word, still catching up in every sense. His breath, his thoughts ... His mind totally awash — he's been pulled under its waves again : Cauldron Lake ( not that he had ever surfaced ) . He could swim upward as much as he wanted, the water would always weigh him back down to the lakebed. Even while his mind still searches for clarity, he can see how ' what is this place? ' had maybe been a less-than-pertinent question in the passing moment. ( It's coming back to me now ... The words on the page from all those years ago ... But why is it so hard to recall the details? What is this fog doing to my head? )

Alan glances around their surroundings. The trees looked as though they reached taller than the sky and the grass was coarse and thick around their feet. All while black fog seeps in around them at every angle. It was eerie. Almost more than anything else the Dark Place had shown him. ( A maze of nature's own creation, designed to madden and entrap. ) He nods lightly at the woman in front of him — the woman who may have just saved him : ❝ I can see that. ❞ ( A maze ... Brings back memories ... )

Is this how it went? The episode? I don't ... I can't remember. The longer I spend here, the more the Dark Place takes. My time, memories ... How long have I ... ? — This all feels so familiar but ... I'm missing something. Some vital piece of information the story needs to move forward. Without it ... Well, I'll just keep going in circles. But I have to keep moving. The story beats are all here — hidden, somewhere in the maze. The loop. I have to believe living through this nightmare — my own creation — will get me out. Get me back to Alice.

The heartbeat that had been pounding in his ears — his heartbeat — has faded into the background. He can breathe. He can think. ( It's the best he can do when there's no relaxation in a place like this. ) When his vision is no longer blurred by the fear and adrenaline, he can get a better look at her. And it was her. One of the episode's protagonists. He doesn't remember if it was him or someone else who named her : Jill. ( Horror is only victims and monsters, but ' Night Springs ' allowed their characters a chance — even in the darkest nights, there were still lights at the end of the tunnel. ) But it wasn’t just her. There were ... others. It was an ensemble story, he recalls. A group of unlikely survivors fighting against the night to make it to dawn … That's how he wrote it. ( Wh—where … ? Where are the others? )

And as if written on cue, a scream in the distance. It echoes, bounces against trees and escapes into the nothingness of the night sky. His heart jumps with a gasp, but he silences himself quickly. ( The monster ... The killer ... It's out there. It's ... hunting. That was its goal. Hunt and kill. That was the story. ) Sweat beads on his forehead, at his temples. The only way out is through, he remembers. ( But — how? What was the ending?! ) The tension and frustration shows on his face, in his darting eyes and furrowed brow. As Alan looks back up at Jill, he says : ❝ Fl—flashlight. I need a flashlight — we need flashlights. They'll help — with the darkness. ❞

@soulcost / jill valentine.

#soulcost #test muse. interaction / alan wake. #red forest setting bc it was the only realm that popped into my head #verse. alan wake / dead of night. #anyway IM SCARED #IDK HOW TO WRITE HIM

[autimind]

I'm the anon who sent the "interesting message" and I just want to say thank you. To start, yes, I'm a cis-male living in the US (also securely aroace) When I wrote out that (admittedly messy) message I had just seen your post from 2-3 days ago and it was almost like a dam burst. Most of what I typed I hadn't really thought about before (not that I find it to be untrue; just that none of it became a conscious thought) and it put into perspective how much I could benefit from just talking about it. Your response helped, and I agree that I haven't given up yet, it just feels like I'm just flailing while most have learned to float. Ironically, one of the few things I am confident in is my determination, even if it seems like blind insistence at times (and its tendency to get me stuck on certain thoughts/ideas).

This got rambly so I'll state it again. Thank you. And, in case you're wondering, I do plan on pursuing help from a mental health professional and my rant (sorry about that by the way) helped me realize I needed it more than I thought I might.

You are quite welcome, anon. It was my pleasure.

I had to look up 'aroace' but never mind that. You apparently know your own internal config. Well done.

As a quick segue: I like to ask people what they are adding, what kind of positivity they are injecting into the future. I ask it of myself often enough. Well, my blog is one thing and one thing only: giving what I have learnt to people out there. You said it was almost lik a dam had burst. Good! At least my post reached one person that needed that message. That is why I do it. I am not a spiritual teacher by far but I do know some things. I try to think what things I would have wanted to hear, or read, at age 16 or age 20. I am very glad that my post as well as my response helped.

By all means keep flailing. It does keep you above the waterline. You will have noticed by now that flailing is excessively tiring, though. It sucks up any and all available energy. It would be wonderful if you managed to float or even swim. By the way, a message isn't 'rambly' just because it doesn't look like an A+ high school essay. You are allowed to write naturally.

You have determination in spades, apparently. So use it. Set yourself some goal and get at it. Never apologize for being in need. You may rant at me all you want. I am happy to learn that you will pursue professional help and I wish you best luck in that endaevour.

It is exceedingly hard to help someone whom you don't know. Still.. from my (volunteer) work with other autistic people, I have learnt that rebuilding self-confidence and trust is best done in tiny steps. If you keep failing then the steps are too big. Make them smaller. B.J. Fogg, in his wonderful book Tiny Habits, uses the example of someone who is convinced they need to run 10 kilometers, or some such distance. They can't. Everything is too hard. So he sets the task of at least dressing for running and putting on running shoes, then stepping outside for a minute. If that is all you can give and you give it… you have given 100%. And so on and so forth, you can safely build on your tiny successes and eventually run that distance.

Sometimes self-care is hard. I make a point of making my bed every single morning, immediately after getting up. At the very least, I have done one thing and done it well. I find it gets me in the mental mode of action, doing one thing after another. Perhaps you can decide to spend at least a couple of minutes on clean clothing and personal grooming? That is a very positive and self-caring act. It has the added benefit that it fits the expectations of society and if you do decide to go out of the house, you'll feel stronger.

Again, you are welcome. I hope you have had a chance to read my post on (probably) not being awesome.

Kind regards,

Ṭhitadhammo

#autistic spectrum #actually autistic #autistic feels

[foldingpaperflowers]

Hi, I also have Epilepsy. How have you been dealing with it ? Are you struggling emotionally?

Hii hii I'm really sorry for not getting back to this right away, I've been super busy the last few days and wanted to make sure I was able to give you like a real answer. I'm answering this publicly because it's kinda a complex question that other people may like to see an answer for (I know theres points I defs would have) but if you want to talk about more personal stuff PLEASE feel free to DM me.

I've actually rewritten an answer for this like 10 times because I end up over sharing too much ahaha the short answer is yes and no.

I used to struggle A LOT I mean, I had been super independent before my seizures I worked 56 hours a week, I had raised my one sib from the time I was 10, had plans to be a sfx makeup artist, it was great! Then all of a sudden I couldn't leave my house alone. I was having seizures daily, I couldn't work, college had to be put on hold (4x before I told them I'd email them if I was ever able to start) I kept trying to find different jobs but that was difficult with how often my meds were changing, and how bad my seizures would get when I switched pills. I lost friends because I kept canceling last minute (which i do understand)

Movies and shows started adding more strobes in too, like I'm positive that's a thing. I have a much easier time with movies/shows pre-2014ish because they have less strobes. Video games stopped being a thing too, idk if they really got worse or new ones finally started affecting me. Like man it sucked. I didnt have any hope in my life improving.

When I started college that made it a lot better. I went for graphic design at a fast tracked college (that has a pretty okaay reputation with everyone but the past students lmao) I lived with my mom during it, for a while my meds were working, I tried working again but my seizures increased doing school + work. And my seizures made school a fucking nightmare. But, I also found I was actually like, happy for a while. Sure there was the whole emotional rollercoaster of not feeling good enough/frustration at yourself when I had seizures, but it wasn't the worst?

Until I wasn't able to handle school they weren't able to offer online classes and I ended up switching meds again a year after college, so of course I had more seizures. Lost over 30k in loans, probably could have fought it bcuz covid made them switch to online classes 3 days later. I tried a bit but with covid, there wasn't really anyone offering free legal services and i didn't know what to do.

It was like a lot of work to get over that, and if it wasn't for my bf being literally amazing I probably wouldn't have. Like, I can't go on disability because my bf makes a bit over the line for household income. It's less than a dual income household still, but my bf has been very insistent that I don't go back to retail, and just try to do what I can from home. That gave me the chance to start developing something of my own and try to create my own stationary business. And basically doing this I've been able to actually like, feel happy about life again?? Like I'm not saying that working is the way to fix your emotional problems because that's fucking bullshit.

But, like, when I was constantly shitty feeling, it was partially because I didn't have any end in sight to my problems, and nothing to look forward to with the future. All my goals had been squished by my brain deciding I need to have seizures, and it wasn't good for me at all.

What first started helping was finding hobbies that didn't include screens since too much time on a computer triggers my seizure auras (I knit, paint, and play ukulele now! Plus I try to go swimming at least once every 2 weeks) If I was doing something fun that was unlikely to trigger my seizures, I found it would make me feel bad that I couldn't do the other types of hobbies as often (video games, digital art, general screen time) plus if a bad seizure threw me off for a few days I didn't have to be bored out of my fucking mind (note: don't try to knit after a seizure unless you're doing just a basic stitch. You may cry. I do. A lot.)

The other thing was just trying to accept it as part of my life. This is harder to explain (Apparently most people don't seem to get it??) But I changed meds 9x between 2016-2019. The doctors keep telling me that they can fix my seizures but when I get my hopes up, I'm an emotional wreck when it doesn't work. Instead of putting hope into it I just kinda pretend I have hope (drs don't like it if you don't pretend) it's like, when a 4 year old is playing dress up gives you a skittle and say "heres your medicine!" You just go along with it, and pretend it will help cure whatever ailment the child is saying. That's basically the way I am about my treatment, and I don't feel as sad about it anymore lmaooo

That being said, my emotions still exist, they just don't come up as often. I used to be able to articulate my thoughts better, but now I can't (especially when speaking) and I fucking hate it. On a regular basis I read academic papers (usually focusing on neurology or something related to history) I fully understand them and have had theories on multiple occasions that I later find a paper proving, so it's frustrating as hell that I can't ever actually talk about this shit because It comes out as "oh you know how that one thingy is like super relevant to how things were done in like 1892 in reference to farming??" And neither myself or anyone else can figure out the words I mean to use -.-

This has become long and complainy again, so I'm going to cut it off now but uh yeah suffice to say I sure have a few emotions lmaoo

#infinite-dreamer3 #asks #epilepsy #actual epileptic

[fireflykaizoku]

Ace x Reader | Young Love

i'm sorry it's so long, but i wanted this to be an one shot 😭

ღ

You were back from a mission, greeting the crew and your father, Edward Newgate. You were updating them about what happened, the places you visited and people you met, when you noticed a raven haired boy, around your age, wearing a yellow blouse, shorts and a hat. Looking closely, you noticed he was Fire Fist Ace. His wanted posters were everywhere, and some said he was offered a position as a shichibukai, which he declined. Your father talked about him once after seeing the young man on the newspaper.

Thatch explained everything. Him wanting to defeat your father even though he wasn’t strong enough for that yet, and how he kept trying to kill Whitebeard ever since he arrived. Everyone was expecting Ace to just give up and behave since he was already part of the crew. Even before he agreed, Newgate already considered him one of his sons.

He was powerful, but not as powerful as your dad. But he kept trying anyway. So you became responsible for cleaning his wounds and bringing him back to the ship whenever your dad threw him into the ocean. Since he was an Akuma No Mi user and couldn’t swim, you had to go save him. It didn’t happen only once or twice. Everyone actually lost the count.

ꟷ I admire your persistence, though. ꟷ you laughed, throwing him a towel to dry himself. ꟷ Why do you want to kill my dad anyways?

ꟷ Because I want the world to know how powerful and strong I really am, and for that I need to defeat the most powerful man alive, Whitebeard. ꟷ he said, still feeling confident, even though he was wrapped around some bandages, and was weak due the seawater.

ꟷ Well, good luck with that. ꟷ you checked his wounds to make sure none were infected. ꟷ But you won’t be able to keep doing that forever.

You left the room, leaving the man alone. He was grumpy ever since he arrived on the Moby Dick, so a time away from the crew would be good so he could think.

Later that day, Marco approached Ace, giving a bowl with his lunch.

ꟷ Hey… ꟷ he said, not making eye contact, but getting the blonde’s attention. ꟷ Why does everyone here call him “pops”?

Marco smiled.

ꟷ Because he calls us sons. We have nowhere to go, no family, and everyone hates us, so it’s nice. ꟷ he paused. ꟷ I know it’s just a word, but it makes us happy.

Ace didn’t reply, turning his head to look somewhere else.

ꟷ You’ll need to decide. ꟷ Marco continued. ꟷ You can either get off this ship, or stay and wear the mark of Whitebeard on your back.

A few days after the conversation, you noticed how the new guy changed his behavior. He wasn’t trying to attack your father anymore. Apparently, he really decided to be part of the crew, and to celebrate everyone decided to throw a party. It was actually just an excuse to have a feast, music and lots of beer.

ꟷ Hey. ꟷ you approached Ace, handling him a glass of beer, while drinking yours. ꟷ Welcome to our crew, officially I mean.

ꟷ Thank you. ꟷ he smiled. It was actually the first time you saw his smile, and damn, it was beautiful. ꟷ I guess I never got to know your name.

ꟷ I’m (Y/N). We didn’t talk much, even though I spent much time with you, patching you up and dragging you out of the ocean.

ꟷ And thank you for that too. That was very nice of you.

ꟷ Nah, it’s almost my job here. I help taking care of the ones who are injured or sick. But you were my most stubborn patient ever.

The night was pleasant, you two spent the whole night away from the others just talking and looking at the ocean.

You had the chance to know about Ace’s past, about his brothers and his goals. The way his eyes started shining when he talked about his goals, how he wanted to be free, explore the world, and be the Pirate King.

The morning after, you saved a seat next to you for Ace, not just for that breakfast, but for every meal now. You two became close, drinking together, spending nights talking, and every time the ship stopped at a new island, you both used to go explore and have lunch together.

It was late at night and you were already asleep next to your dad. He was caring and overprotective at times, but he also understood you were old enough go on missions alone if you wanted to, as long they weren’t too dangerous, and live your own life when you wanted to. As long as you’re happy, he was happy too.

Some members of the crew were also asleep, or were passed out drunk somewhere on the ship.

Ace approached Thatch in the kitchen.

ꟷ Hey, can you tell more about (Y/N)? We spend much time together, but I don’t know her well enough. She’s so nice, I wish I could know her better. ꟷ he whispered, looking over his shoulder to be sure no one could hear, especially you.

ꟷ She is nice, yes. ꟷ he laughed. ꟷ But are you sure you want to take this risk? Do you really want to mess with Whitebeard’s daughter?

ꟷ Daughter? ꟷ the freckled boy gasped. ꟷ She’s his daughter?

ꟷ How did you not notice? She calls him dad all the time, and he even pats her head whenever they’re near each other! Are you that oblivious?

ꟷ You all call him pops or something, I thought it was just something like that. And I thought he was nicer and protective since she’s surrounded by man. ꟷ he stopped and started thinking. ꟷ Oh, now it makes sense why she’s the only girl on the ship.

ꟷ Well, it was just an advice. Pops is nice, but be careful, I don’t know what he would do if someone did any harm to his little girl. But if you want to know her better, I can tell you some stuff I know…

The months passed quickly, and eventually Ace became the Second Division commander. He deserved it. After all, he was strong and put effort in whatever he did. No wonder why the government wanted his head.

Soon enough your father found a way to send both of you to missions together very often. Maybe he knew something was going on, or just because you two worked well together. Anyway, it was a proof that Newgate trusted Fire Fist enough to take care of you. That could be a good sign.

In fact, the first kiss happened during a mission.

It was night, the sky was full of stars, the breeze was nice and the sound of the waves was soothing. Your eyes were closed, just enjoying the weather, when you felt someone sit next to you, and placing his hat on your head. You used to “steal” it from him all the time, which resulted on Ace chasing you around the ship, even though he found you even more beautiful when you were wearing it.

You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling the pleasant sensation of his warm skin. It just happened, naturally like that. He gently held your chin to look at you in the eyes, his face was mere inches from yours, and after taking all his courage, he stole a kiss. It was a chaste and soft kiss, and the moment was so pure.

From that moment on, the mission started to feel like a romantic trip sometimes, and wasn’t long until both of you decided to actually call whatever you had a “relationship”. He was respectful, kind, and protective. Even though he knew you were strong and capable of taking care of yourself, he never left you alone, especially during fights or at a bar. He used to steal a flower and give it to you, and always held your hand while walking.

After months, the mission had ended, and it has been a few days since you came back to the ship. Now both you and your new boyfriend were worried. Not worried about you, but worried about him.

Your father loved you more than everything, so you would be fine. But what about Ace? Is he going to throw him at the ocean again or kick him out of the crew? Or maybe not, he wouldn’t find someone so reliable to be his second commander.

Well, you couldn’t hide it forever.

ꟷ Are you going to tell about us to your dad? ꟷ Ace whispered, sitting on your bed while you get your stuff to have a shower. ꟷ Every time I look at him, I feel like he knows.

ꟷ We. ꟷ you said. ꟷ We are going to tell him. Don’t worry, he doesn’t know yet. You’re just being paranoid. Or maybe because you accidentally left a goddamn hickey on my neck and it’s hard to hide it!

ꟷ I’m sorry, I forgot about it. I got too excited because I was finally kissing you. ꟷ he pouted and gave his puppy eyes.

Before you could grab your towel and head to the showers, Marco knocked on your door, opening before you could answer. He wasn’t surprised when he saw Ace with you, maybe he already knew this was going to happen.

In fact, the half of the crew felt the tension between both of you. It was that obvious.

ꟷ Pops wants to talk to you two yoi.

ꟷ Is it because of the mission? ꟷ you asked. ꟷ But everything went according to the plan, right?

ꟷ I doubt it’s about the mission. ꟷ he giggled and left, closing the door behind him. You didn’t need to wonder what he meant with that, you already knew. Whitebeard knew about their relationship for sure.

You headed to where your father was sitting. Fire Fist Ace, the man with the bounty of 550 million berries was hiding behind you, and he was so nervous the only reason why his hands weren’t cold was because of his devil fruit.

ꟷ Hi, dad! ꟷ you smiled, making him smile as well. ꟷ Marco said you wanted to talk to us?

ꟷ Yes, my princess, I do. ꟷ he looked at the scared man behind you. ꟷ Ace, son, why are you hiding behind my daughter?

ꟷ Sorry, pops. ꟷ he instantly stood next to you, taking a deep breath.

ꟷ (Y/N), you more than everyone should know that I’m very aware of things that happen on my ship, right? ꟷ he started. You gulped and nodded. ꟷ And if something goes unnoticed, my sons tell me. I’m not talking only about things related to piracy, but about personal matters as well.

You knew the rant would be long. But so far, he didn’t seem mad or even displeased, so that was a relief. But the raven haired boy was almost shaking.

ꟷ So, I’ll ask: am I just hearing false rumors or is there anything you two might want to share with me? ꟷ he asked.

You thought for a while, wondering how to break the news. A part of you just didn’t understand why you were making a big deal out of it, maybe it was because you never introduced a boyfriend to your dad before, and never even showed interest in any boy. So obviously, you’ve never touched this subject before. In the end, there was no way to guess how his reaction would be.

ꟷ Yes, we do. ꟷ you broke the silence. ꟷ During the trip, Ace and I got closer… Way closer. We realized we like each other so much and now we are together. It’s not that we were trying to keep a secret, we just were thinking of how to tell you since we came back.

Whitebeard turned to look at Ace, expecting the boy to say something as well. After all, you were the only one doing all the talking so far.

ꟷ I... I promise I would never hurt (Y/N). I like her very much, and I’ll treat her like she deserves to be treated. I won’t do any harm to your princess, Pops. ꟷ was all he could say, so quick that Newgate could barely understand, but you heard it perfectly, and blushed at his words.

ꟷ Son, I already trust you enough, you’re my second commander after all. But with my daughter, it’s different. I’d give my life for her. Can I trust you with my most important treasure?

ꟷ Yes, of course! I’ll protect her, love and take care of her.

When your father smiled, you already knew he approved this relationship.

And that night, the crew threw a party, not only to celebrate you coming back from the mission, but also to congratulate the new couple. After all, everything was a reason to celebrate on that ship.

ღ

tag list: @flowersgirl02 - @pure-kirarin - @lofi-coffee - @vemuabhi

#portgas d ace #ace x reader #one piece scenario #one piece imagine #one piece #one piece x reader #portgas d ace x reader

[blindingdutchy]

lamentation | ONE

{peter parker x fem!reader AU}

based on All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven

SERIES MASTERLIST

word count: 2,725

warnings: thoughts of suicide! unsuccessful attempt! depression, grief, angst

18+!!! minors stay away! TRIGGER WARNING.

Nothing made sense anymore. The world was upside down, all messed up, and you were hanging by a thread. How could it have been a year since the incident? How could you be okay with being older than her now?

Grief is something that nobody expects to be easy, but you never expected it to be quite so hard. Every day people promised that tomorrow would be better, but it never was. It never got better. It never got easier. You were fairly sure it never would, because if it still hurt this bad after thirteen months, twenty-two days, and six hours, how could one more hour, day, month, or year bring any sort of respite?

It couldn't. It wouldn't. Sometimes you wondered if this was your punishment. Maybe you felt this way because you deserved to, because you had earned a life time of suffering when you let her die. Sure, big sisters are supposed to look out for little sisters, but at the cost of their life? That couldn't go unpunished.

Every day was the same since she died. Wake up, wish you hadn't, feel everything and nothing all at once, and go to sleep. It was a strange and horrible existence; people weren't meant to feel so many big things at the same time. The guilt, the shame, the anguish, the longing... it consumed every part of you like a black hole until you were left with nothing. Until you felt nothing, thought nothing, you were nothing.

They were all the same until today. It was your birthday, your eighteenth birthday to be exact, and for once that ever present black hole in your chest was gone. Instead of waking up to the constant weight of all those heavy emotions on your shoulders, you woke up with the familiar numb emptiness you felt at the end of every day.

There weren't words to describe how much that terrified you. Every single day since your sister died, you'd wished endlessly for those painful feelings to go away. You'd begged for relief, for peace, and you'd taken solace in the hollow of the evenings. Waking up already vacant and listless did not bring the comfort you dreamed of.

You were officially older than her. You'd finally reached that first milestone she'd never reach, and the thought of it punched a hole in your chest so large you wondered if there was anything left of you at all. It wasn't fair--how could you celebrate the big ticket birthday she'd yearned for so anxiously? You couldn't.

You didn't deserve to celebrate. You didn't deserve to achieve all those goals she never had the chance to. You didn't deserve to live through all the years, experiences, moments that she never would. You didn't deserve to live.

It was all your fault, after all. It was your fault that she was there that day, it was your fault she lingered behind, and it was your fault she died. If you'd just gone shopping like she'd asked instead of insisting on going to the park, she'd still be here. If you hadn't frozen like an idiot, she'd still be here.

With a mind swimming with all the reasons everything would be better if you just weren't around anymore, you snuck out of your bedroom window. It was finally dark outside; you'd managed to make it through the day for your parents. But, with the day over, you couldn't hold on any longer.

The letter you'd written for your parents to find was tucked under your pillow, and with one final glance around the bedroom you used to share with your sister, you made peace with your life. This was for the best. Everyone would be so much better off if it had been you instead of her, and now you were going to make things right. It wouldn't bring her back, but at least you wouldn't be there as a reminder of what should have been.

As ready as you were, you didn't really have a plan. There were a million possibilities as far as how you could execute your desires, but none of them seemed right. It had to be fast, though, and something that didn't require much work. If it took effort, conscious thought and execution, you wouldn't follow through. You'd learned that the last time.

That was how you ended up on the roof of one of the more swanky apartment complexes. It was a tall building, taller than those surrounding it, and a fall from that height would surely do the trick. Strangely, the moment your feet dangled over the ledge with your bottom firmly planted in place, your mind went blank.

All those thoughts of the stress and pain you caused went silent, and you finally could breathe. With a deep exhale, your body relaxed for the first time since the incident; you didn't feel any of the bad things anymore. There was no pain, no grief, no sadness, nor were there any of those empty or numb feelings. You just felt peace.

The peace was short lived as you looked down to the street far below, though. This was it, this was the end, and suddenly your mind was racing with all the what if's. What if it could get better? What if it didn't work? What if this made everything worse? What if this was a mistake?

What if, what if, what if, "Whatever, just shut up." you gasped, clutching your head in your hands to keep it from spinning. "Get it together, (Y/N), this is the right thing to do."

Pulling out the letter you'd written to your sister, you opened it and cried for the first time in months. You'd long ago stopped crying; despite how many horrible things you'd been feeling, the tears just never came. But reading the words you'd written to her, thinking of her as you came to terms with your decision to join her, it was as if a metaphorical flood gate opened.

Thirteen months, twenty-two days, and seven hours. You couldn't wait any longer. You couldn't do it, do anything, anymore; you just needed to rest. The clock was running out, and your time was up.

"You can do this." you whispered, "For once in your life, do something right."

With shaky hands and weak knees, you scrambled up onto your feet and stood atop the ledge. You weren't that tall, but somehow the new perspective made the drop look so much longer and your stomach heaved with fright. Sobbing, you stumbled back to your knees and threw up the little bit of cake you'd forced yourself to eat earlier that evening.

You wiped the sick from your mouth and stood up again, this time with panting gasps for air and knees that shook so violently you feared you might fall before you were ready to. Maybe that would have been for the best, though, because the longer you looked down the more doubts you had. No one would ever know it was an accident if that were the case.

A sudden noise behind you startled you, and your heart seized in your chest as your knees gave out and you tipped dangerously over the edge. You didn't fall, though, because a sticky substance latched around your arm and dragged you back over until you were laying on the roof. For a moment you just laid there, staring up at the empty sky where the stars were all drowned out by the city lights, and you tried hard to figure out what had just happened.

"Are you okay? Oh--oh my god, are you hurt? What were you thinking? Shit, oh shit, Karen, what do I do?" A masked head leaned over your face, blocking the starless sky from your view, and all the feelings came flooding back like a tsunami. "Um, can you hear me?"

One feeling stood out against the current, and your body tensed as you were overcome with seething, white hot rage. An anger like you'd never felt before; you were furious. How dare he stop you? How dare he ruin everything?

It was Spiderman, the friendly neighborhood hero who'd been gallivanting around Queens for some time now, and that made you even angrier. Spiderman was one of them, one of the ridiculous superheroes who'd killed your sister without a single care in the world. He was one of them, and he'd just stopped you from finally fixing everything they had ruined.

You stood so fast you nearly threw up again, but you swallowed the bile down and hissed, "You should have let me fall. I wanted to fall."

Spiderman pulled you back with a firm grip on the web that was still wrapped around your arm, stopping you in your tracks as you stomped back toward the ledge. "Hey, stop! I'm not going to let you do this." he shouted, but his voice was more nervous than commanding.

"Get out of here, Spiderman. You're not saving the day by stopping me, okay?" you snapped fiercely. No matter how hard you pulled against the webbing holding you back, you couldn't break free. It didn't budge when you pulled at it, clawed at it, or even pried it. "What the hell is this shit?"

He pulled you in further, and you stumbled over your feet as you tried to keep your distance. "I'm not going to let you do this. You don't need to do this." he repeated, this time more firmly.

For a moment you were silent, studying the masked hero as he stared back at you with a hidden face. "You don't even know me. Why do you care?" you tried again, but your voice was softer, more fragile. The numbness was creeping back in again and you knew that you wouldn't be able to follow through anymore, even if he let you go.

"I do know you, (Y/N), and you don't need to do this. We can--I can help you. Let me help you."

Your eyebrows furrowed as you narrowed your eyes suspiciously. How the hell did he know your name? Did you know him? Even though your mind was running wild with unanswered questions, you seethed, "You can't help me. Unless you can go back in time and kill me instead of my sister, you can't fucking help me."

The eyes of his mask widened at your shout, and he stammered, "I--no, I can't do that, but I can help you. I can be your friend, you... you can talk to me. I know what it's like to lose someone, (Y/N)."

You scoffed, "Do you know what it's like to watch a family member die right in front of you? Do you know what it's like to see someone get killed, and it's all your fault? You can't help me!"

"I do, actually." he stated.

Your entire body slumped at the revelation, the anger leaving you as the numbness finally took over completely. It was silent for a few long moments as you cried noiselessly, the only sounds being those of your still frantic breathing and the bustling traffic far below. "If you know, then you know why I have to do it." you whimpered.

Spiderman dropped the web keeping you in place as you collapsed onto your butt, your legs too weak to support you anymore from exhaustion. "I know why you think you have to, but I also know why you're wrong. This isn't the answer." he responded, tentatively taking a few steps closer to you.

You didn't respond, looking up at him as you wiped your cheeks and nose weakly, and he took the chance to continue, "I'm going to make you a deal. I'm going to take my mask off and show you who I am. If you still want to do it after, fine, but at least you'll know who will be blaming themselves afterwards."

True to his word, his fingers creeped under the edge of his mask as he stared you down intensely. Your breath faltered as you watched, completely still as you realized he was serious. Spiderman was going to reveal his identity to you, and you knew that once he did it was game over. As much as you felt the world would be better off without you, you couldn't bare the thought of leaving someone behind to feel the way that you did.

So, stubbornly, you squeezed your eyes shut tightly and refused to look. "I'll wait here all night if I have to. Besides, I could just say my name, you know. I'm pretty sure you know me too."

"Don't." you pleaded.

"Open your eyes, (Y/N). You want this, right? Knowing who I am shouldn't change anything, then." he urged, his tone soft despite his harsh words. "It's Peter. Peter Parker. I've sat behind you in at least two classes since freshman year, and I've lent you pencils before. You always give them back, and you always let Flash copy your homework even though he's a total dick to you. You--"

Your eyes snapped open as you cut him off, "Stop! Just because you know things about me doesn't mean you know me."

It really was Peter Parker, and the numbness faded a little to make room for anxiety and guilt. You knew Peter had lost too much in his life; his parents and his uncle, too. Could you add your name to that list? Could you jump when you knew he'd blame himself for the rest of his life?

You couldn't. You wouldn't. Peter's brown eyes were filled with worry and sadness as he studied you, his mask clutched tightly in his fist. When you remained silent, he sat down and spoke quietly, "I know enough to know the world would suck without you. I could be your friend, you know, you don't have to do this alone."

"I don't need friends." you huffed.

Peter frowned briefly, before rubbing his nose and hiding it again. "I did just tell you my biggest secret, (Y/N), so I think we kind of have to be friends now." he finally rebutted, a faint twinge of humor in his voice, "You might not want friends, but you do need one. I'll be your friend."

You stared back at Peter blankly, uncaring as he shifted uncomfortably in your silence. Why did he want to be your friend? He already got what he wanted. You weren't going to go through with your plan, and he wouldn't have to live with guilt like you did every day. So, why was he still here?

Part of you wanted to believe he really cared, because he seemed to pay a lot of attention to you to notice the little things you did, but you knew better. He didn't really care about you. He only cared that you knew his secret and now you had leverage over him. You could out him if you wanted to, and that meant he had to keep tabs on you.

"I don't need friends." you repeated stiffly, "Don't worry, Parker. Your secret is safe with me."

His eyes widened as he stammered, "That's not--"

"Save it, Peter. Can you please just get this shit off of me so I can go home? I want to go to bed." you cut him off with a deep sigh, gesturing to the web that was still hanging from your arm.

He looked like he wanted to argue, to further plead his case, but after a few moments he visibly wilted and gave in. "It'll dissolve in two hours. I'll... I'll see you at school, (Y/N)."

It was a statement, but it sounded more like a question. You knew he was still hesitant to let you out of his sight, fearful that you'd go back on your word and follow through, and this was his way of confirming you wouldn't do just that. Achingly stretching up off the ground, you muttered, "Yeah. Bye, Peter."

Peter tugged his mask back over his head, but didn't make any move to leave until you were opening the door that lead back into the building. As you stepped through the threshold he gave a forlorn wave, before jumping over the ledge and swinging away. The door shut behind you as the weight of the world settled on your shoulders once again. You'd failed, like always.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker imagine #peter parker series #spiderman #marvel #mcu #peter parker x fem #peter parker x you #peter parker au #peter parker angst #peter parker moodboard #spiderman imagine #spiderman x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland series #tom holland fanfiction #spiderman mcu #peter parker mcu #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker oneshot

[yarbz]

cowardly game of rival — n.jaemin ( f )

synopsis!

 ━ as the girl’s football team captain, you were used to the endless derogatory taunts, the wolf-whistling, the attempts at romance being boys telling you what they thought of barcelona’s starting XII. na jaemin fell into all those catergories, a detestable flea in your hair. as sworn enemies, there was not even an inkling of romance, and you were convinced that your attraction to him was ONLY physical. weren’t you?

pairing ━ na jaemin x female!reader

word count ━ 6k

genres ━ fluff, rival!au, football!au, comedy, romance, very little of the football game is described in detail.

warnings ━ profanity, football terms, dirty jokes, y/n and jaemin are literally just cowards

( author's note! )

this one came to mind when i thought of how i love female footballers and decided that jaemin would be the idiot in question to chicken out of confessing to their crush by being an ass instead. i really hope you like it !! other notes are sissoko is the name of like three different players and a cracker is slang for a really good goal.

Football.

A sport of creatively insane wits, fancy footwork and incoherent celebrations. Those were all the things you loved about it, along with the ridiculously cute uniform.

It provided you an escape from the man's world, a chance to carve out your own story, free from the shackles of stereotypes. At least, that's what you'd initially thought.

Unfortunately, the boy's football team made it their sole objective in life to demean you. As captain, you took on the strenuous task of refusing to resort to physical violence when a stupid comment about your short length was made or when boys assumed you couldn't tell your Sissoko's apart (you could, quite well actually).

You had taken it as a sign of war, and refused to comment on their pathetic sneers. You did, however, feel as if Na Jaemin made a blood pact or something to be a parasite towards you.

He stood at the cusp of six foot, towering over you like an evergreen beanstalk, cheshire-cat like smile taunting you. Chocolate colour tresses fell over his eyes in straight lines, shielding his forehead.

It's not like you paid attention to his visage, but even you had to admit in your spite that he was attractive. And horribly so.

Today started like every other, going to your locker before heading to your homeroom. Luckily, you'd managed to get there before the freshmen started to pile in. Being a senior had its positives along with its various faults, one of them being the early access you got to the school.

You jammed your key in the lock, flinging open the locker door, making quick work of exchanging your books. In your fast-paced stupor, you didn't notice the figure leaning behind the door. You slammed the door shut, nail catching an patch of skin, scraping it.

"If you wanted me to leave, you could've been less catty." The voice wheedled, throwing a withering glare in your direction. You rolled your eyes, annoyed, arms crossed across your chest.

"Jaemin." You sighed, rubbing your temples. "Why are you hiding behind my locker? Are you looking for a death wish?"

He sat up slowly, soothing his reddening nose, suddenly regaining his smile as he leaned closer towards your face. "If I was looking for a death wish, I'd eat whatever food you just stuffed in there."

"Fuck off. Don't see you making any gourmet meals."

"I'm the gourmet meal." He slithered, breath fanning your nose. From this distance, you could see the wonder swimming within his eyes, breath caught in your throat.

Damn, he was too fine.

You tore your gaze from his eyes, "And yet, I don't feel inclined to taste it." He jumped back in surprise, eyes widening, giving you an opening to dash. Chuffed that you left him speechless, you walked towards your next class, resisting the urge to turn back to revel in his awe-struck face.

Jaemin's eyebrow quirked in curiosity, crooked smirk hanging from his lips. He watched you stalk away, cursing underneath his breath softly. You carried a fiery aura around you, burning him with every snarky remark — even though it beat him bruised ghastly lavenders, he could bear to play with fire if it meant you would pay him attention.

You see, Jaemin did not hate you as per say. The 'hate' which you believed in was merely his inability to profess his affections towards you. For lack of a better word, he was a coward.

A dashingly handsome one, but a fragile, chicken-legged coward all the same.

You'd made it to class in record time, ego bared boldly on your shoulders, attracting the curious eyes of your best friends Yangyang and Donghyuck. Both were terrorists in their own right, but you couldn't help loving them all the same. Sure, they came as a dreadful pair, but love had decided to shackle your heart to them.

"What's got you so happy? Jaemin finally drop dead?" Yangyang joked, shifting to make space for you. Headband strapped to the pinnacle of his forehead, he grinned at you from beneath the base of stretchy ebony material.

"No..not yet." You hummed, sad lilt to your tone.

"Awh, didn't kill him yet?" Donghyuck teased, nudging Yangyang in their laughter. "I think it must be love stopping you from committing the crime yourself." You shoved both, peals of laughter tickling your throat at their whines of pain.

"If you don't shut up, I'll be killing you two instead, never mind Jaemin." You snapped. "Love is what I feel when I score a cracker from the halfway line. Seeing Jaemin makes me want to jump out of the nearest window."

"Are you sure it's not just unresolved sexual tension? I, too get antsy when I haven't jacked off—"

"Finish that sentence and you'll have no arms."

"I'm flexible enough to suck myself off." Yangyang mused, "You'll never stop my libido."

"You're disgusting." You and Donghyuck said in sync, swatting his grabby hands from flying at your shoulders. Quite frankly, you didn't want to hear about his freakishly boneless limbs, or his untameable sex drive, nor hear anything about his genitals at all.

"Does that count as self—"

"Yes, it does. Please don't be telling people that I'm your friend, or that you can do that. It's not a little icebreaker."

Friendship with these two had crossed all sorts of personal boundaries you didn't know existed, and it was starting to decompose you, like a rotting piece of cabbage infested by slugs, yet still hanging on for the glimpse of sunlight to regenerate.

Okay, so you were being dramatic. But, that didn't explain their dire need to over share certain aspects of their lives with you.

"Doesn't change the topic at hand —Did you get my pun?" He asked, looking for Donghyuck's reaction.

"I did. Not going to comment on it before she breaks my arms. Just know I enjoyed it very much."

"If I wanted to mess around with Jaemin, I'd put my hand in a beehive. It'd sting less." You snarled, slamming down your books. They winced comically, faces alert as the teacher walked into the class.

Apart from football, you enjoyed learning — how to make things, break things, self defense, people skills, and education fell not too far from that. Classes like biology interested you greatly, which is why you found yourself fully immersed in the process of respiration.

Your mind drifted for a second, thinking back to what he'd said. Was it actually sexual tension? Did you actually bare an emotion other than loathing towards him? Then, you thought of that face and how you'd want to do nothing more than break his pretty little nose—

Yeah. There it was. You were normal after all.

School had come to her daily dreadful end, and you were happily striding into the ladies' changing rooms for football training. Nobody had gotten here yet, luckily.

You glanced over into the full body mirror, tugging at your shorts until they fell just above the bump of your knee, pulling your sock midway at your calf. Lean abs shone underneath the dim light, and you proudly paraded around the room, happy to be alone.

A knock on the door came, and you swung the door open with a feverish excitement. "Who is it?"

"Didn't take me as a bra kinda girl. Was thinking more spandex or a binder." Jaemin seethed, hands on hips, azure jersey hanging off his lithe frame.

"You're insufferable. Why are you here?" You groaned, choosing to ignore his taunt at your breast size. His eyes crinkled into upside down crescents, wandering lower to the dip of your frilly black bra.

"To see my favourite girl, of course." He whistled, eyes still glued to your unmarked expanse of skin. "I think those need a new owner." He pointed towards your chest.

"Preferably one whose face I can stand to look at."

"I'm roaring with laughter." You snarked, voice dripping with sarcasm, making no attempt to cover yourself up. Jaemin was still staring, face flushed a flaming cerise. "You gonna keep staring or are you gonna leave me alone?"

"I'm not staring. Why are you staring at me?" He shot defensively. Your eyes narrowed at him, watching his cheeks darken with every lingering stare.

"You're in the girl's changing room, drooling over two lumps of fat on the body of a girl that you hate. The real inquisition here is your lack of sensibility to stop thirsting after anything with a vagina."

Jaemin stayed silent, eyes boring holes into your full lips, tongue instinctively darting out to wet his own nimble, chapped ones. Rolling your eyes, you lead him to the door, hand clasped against the door handle.

Then, you heard loud footsteps approaching the room, incoherent rambling increasing in clarity. You began to conjure up a plan, wondering how on Earth you'd be able to kick Jaemin out without the girls knowing.

With the shouts of the team gradually getting closer, you panicked, chucking Jaemin into a locker.

"Fine, I'll leave! Lemme out!" He squirmed, trying to come out of the metal confines.

"You can't leave now, they're literally outside. Do you want to be stomped to death by Nike Mercurials?" You hissed, closing the door over, much to his protests.

"Don't wanna die with the last image being your breasts."

"If you survive this, I'll gladly provide you a new image."

He shut up at that, and you straightened, reaching for your jersey in a false calmness. The girls burst in, squeals of various greetings being thrown across the room.

You smiled gently at them, encouraging them to get changed, joining in to laugh at their jokes. The topic kept shifting from manicures to new boots before finally settling on Na Jaemin.

"Cap'n, what's going on with you and Jaemin?" One of the girls asked, batting her eyelashes softly. "A boy on the football team told me that you guys are dating."

Dating..that devil? A sin punishable by death! You repelled all instinct to shudder in disgust, instead choosing to maintain a neutral expression.

"I am absolutely not dating Na Jaemin. He's a despicable little mongrel and I'd rather eat my shoe—"

"Mon bébé chérie, why do you curse me like this?" Jaemin squeezed from the locker, voice like a wounded puppy.

"Did you hear that? I think it was—"

"No! It's my Jaemin impression. Isn't it so good?" You spluttered, voice rising in volume. You were sure that your face was a painful beetroot, breathing crazily as you over-exerted yourself.

"Cap'n, it was so good I almost thought Jaemin was in here with us!" She gushed, hands clasped. "You guys would be so cute together. Even if you don't like him, I think he most definitely has feelings for you."

The rest of the girls joined in at this, shouts of 'you should take a chance!' resounding in the hollow room. You'd already ruled out that as a possibility, chalking it down to his uncontrollable thirst for being a pest. Na Jaemin was your rival, the utter bane of your existence, a rodent that fed on robbing your spirits dry of any positivity.

"He'll get a chance when pigs fly." You muttered, noticing their eyes staring at you inquisitively, as if they knew something you didn't. Awkwardly, you smiled at the girls, ushering them towards the door, scanning the hallway after the last one had skipped out.

Jaemin untangled himself from the locker, straightening his limbs, pulling at his calves in a stretch. You peered over your shoulder, frown deepening at him.

"Did you mean what you said?" Jaemin breathed, walking into your personal bubble. He was way too close. His breath tickled your forehead, eyes dark with something you couldn't decipher.

He felt his heart pound against his chest, resisting the urge to pick the stray hair in your eye to the side. You were looking at him with a confused expression, nose scrunched, eyebrows furrowed. You were going to be the death of him. Devastated, he broke eye contact, feeling all forms of fight seep from his bones.

"You don't like me." You whispered, wincing at the wobble in your voice. "Everyone's just saying that....right?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"No. I want you to say no."

"I can't do that."

"Well, you have to say no. I don't want to hear the rest of your sentence — keep us as just this." You softly yelled, pointing between the pair of you. "Don't change anything."

"Okay. I'll leave, but only because you want me to. But, before I go..you've gotta start being more observant." He sighed, ruffling your hair before making his way out.

"I’m plenty observant. Wouldn’t be a good player if I wasn’t.”

"I’ll see it when I believe it. Oh, and the thing you said about pigs flying..”

“What about it?”

“Renjun’s working on it.”

You laughed heartily, locking the door behind you. So, Jaemin did in fact think of you as his Aphrodite — all those nicknames were genuinely created out of affections. 'Mon bébé chérie' held a lot more emotional weight than it did twenty minutes ago, and you had to breathe before your eyes prickled with saltine tears.

Fresh air hit you like a loaded delivery truck, Mother Nature delicately wiping the tears from your eyes, shaking you with a cold flourish, roaring your cheeks to life. The team had already started their warm-up drills, as opposed to the boys' football team who were cooling down from their jog.

You ran over, tightening your ponytail, shifting into 'Captain' mode. The coach pushed you into the circle, encouraging you to take the reins. "Team, we've been doing nothing but straight work. Let's make this session count before the match tomorrow." You shouted, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline.

The team chanted back, settling into their positions for the first drill — a penalty shoot out. You stepped to the ball, striding back to gain a better angle, socks hugging your knees.

Giving yourself a five second countdown, you charged at the ball, foot pointed, kicking it with a passion that rivalled Lionel Messi. It rolled in the back of the net, flying past Hyejoo, who could barely even process it.

"Still got those fire feet, I see, Cap'n!"

"Lady Luck gave them to me for a reason." You boasted, smugness slapped all over your face.

From the corner of your eye, Jaemin snickered, winking at you when you turned to make eye contact. At least he had the audacity to keep up appearances in front of everyone, even if you had probably made everything awkward.

"My granny could kick better than that, babes!" He boomed from across the pitch, teasing smirk on his lips.

"Your granny lives in a retirement home and still calls on you 'Nana Banana'..it's not very nice to lie." You retorted, eyes narrowed, nearing his hunched form.

"Doesn't mean she can't kick your ass. Granny was a little Aguero back in the day."

"She can't if I'm the Manè, can she?"

"But I'm a Modric. I'll beat your ass, any day, any time." He grinned, leaning in to you. "In any way you want."

You heard blood pumping in your ears, your cheeks filling with immense heat. He grabbed your cheeks softly, grinning even wider when you flushed even warmer, a human sauna. Pushing a lock out of your eyes, he searched your eyes for any sense of rage, face softening at your lack of that emotion.

"Any..way..I want?" You mouthed silently, innuendo catching your attention again as you mulled over the words. "Na Jaemin, you're a dirty boy."

"I think you're the dirty girl." He hummed, saying the next sentence in an octave that made your head spin, quietly enough that only the two of you could hear. "Sauntering around in your little Victoria's Secret bra, cozying up to me without even batting an eyelash or covering up."

"These boobs are mine. I'm allowed to show them to anyone I want."

"So you admit to showing them to me? You admit that you were trying to put on a show for me?" He pressed, purposely craning his neck over you.

"I was trying to change. If you didn't come into the room like a little pervert, you'd never have gotten a visual of these."

"And yet I know how they look now. There's nothing that can erase that image."

"Fuck you, Na Jaemin."

"I think you meant to say fuck me, but I'll allow the slip-up just because I'm so nice." You squirmed under his predatory gaze, heat in your cheeks akin to a fever. "Better get back to training, Cap. Your team's got a match tomorrow."

You hissed at him weakly, choosing to walk away from his provocation, going back to the team, who were all smiling at you with a glint in their eye. By the looks on their faces, they'd definitely taken that exchange as a form of flirting.

Not that you were disputing it, of course.

The coach rounded the girls up, calling them to grab bibs. You relaxed, running over to take the last bib once you'd calmed down. Na Jaemin was a little toe-sucking, filthy mongrel who only knew how to charm his way out of everything — totally not your ideal type or anything.

His penance for being blunt coupled with that honeyed voice was what was throwing you off. Not your physical attraction to him. At least, you hoped so.

The shrill shriek of the whistle behind you shook you out of your mind, bringing your attention back to the practice game. With every shot at the goal, you could see Jaemin taunting you, making kissy faces.

After the first half, you weren't sure if it was real or if you were hallucinating — almost like a mirage, he was wearing that stupid little smirk and there was nothing more you wanted than to slap those lips clean off his face.

Soon enough, you clocked that it wasn't just an illusion, as he'd shifted to the opposite end of the pitch, the other boys from the football team watching from the stands.

They'd started jeering at every pass, exaggerating their reactions, commentary toeing the border of sexual harassment. You volleyed the ball on your foot, battering it into the stands, grinning widely as it hit one of the boys in the face, leaving his nose lopsided.

"If you're gonna be a sexist piece of shit, just fuck off. My team doesn't deserve to hear your brain-dead commentary, nor see your fuck face." You smiled, bite in your voice. "Kindly take the opinion that nobody asked for and shove it up your ass."

Jaemin's eyes twinkled with respect, breath caught in his throat at the dark look in your eyes. He felt his chest warm in adoration, heart doubling in size. "You heard the lady."

"Includes you too, Jaemin. Better get home before Granny Na starts missing her little boy."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Fuck off." You said playfully, recovering the ball. He waved you bye, lugging his bag over his shoulder, fixing the collar of his jersey. A beam touched your lips, face lighting up.

Jaemin smirked back at you, taking his leave. He dragged the remnants away with him, leaving the girl's football team alone in the cooling dwindle of Autumn light.

"Nice shorts." A tug.

"Oh? Na Jaemin complimenting me?" You mused in surprise, arms folded across your chest.

"You didn't let me finish." Jaemin whispered, standing on the sidelines of the pitch, pulling at the hem of your shorts. "Ooh, I can see your stubble. Better bring out the razor."

Your jaw tightened, feeling that rush of annoyance fill your veins again. The nerve.

"More stubble than you'll ever grow on that chin."

"At least I'm not a human Sasquatch."

"I've got hair in the right places—" You started, catching the innuendo, glaring at Jaemin's raised eyebrows. "—I know what I meant. Don't be such a dirty boy."

"Say it again. Love the way it rolls off your tongue."

You gaped at him, whole body blowing a fuse, skin reddening at his tone. Sweltering heat danced atop each fingertip, each muscle, making you jolt. His gaze was still glued to your face, relishing the quickly dilating pupils in your eyes.

"I—"

"—Would rather have you speechless after our first time, not for your championship final. When you win, I'll buy you fucking adorable ice cream with the little star sprinkles that you like."

"Going to ignore you on that first statement, but the second one sounds like a motive."

"Win the match, and I'll ask you out. Properly."

You saw his eyes flash with something passionate, flakes of gooey molasses swirling behind the irises. Before you opened your mouth to reply to him, he pleaded silently for you to just take it as it was. "Gimme a chance. Who knows you better than your enemy? Nobody."

"I mean..."

"Only you know that my grandma calls me those corny names or that I see her all the time."

"Or that you lose every game that's not football because you're too lazy to pay attention." You added.

"And I know that you broke a guy's jaw because he was bothering Yangyang." He continued. "And I also know that you know one thing I've never told anyone."

"Ooh, what's that?"

"That I like you."

You looked away from him sheepishly, goosebumps popping up on your skin, and whether it was from the cold or from his words, you didn't know. He was looking down at you tenderly, ruffling your bed of hair, pressing a small, wet kiss to your forehead as the whistle blew.

"Don't play with fire, Na."

"You're more like a carpet burn."

You sighed, defeated. "Fine. I'll give you an answer when we win. If you're playing me, I'll break your arms."

"Okay. Go get 'em, Lady Luck." He smiled, waving you off as you scurried onto the pitch, face glowing under the fluorescent lights. Jaemin felt his chest tighten with pride, jaw aching from all the strenuous smiling.

With that absurdly contented face, you reminded him of a cross between a kid at a carnival and a man about to kill another. Your hair gathered wildly atop your head, a wicked glare painting your face.

This was you at peace, he deduced. Even with the gruesome of expressions, you looked calm. The pitch was truly your home away from home.

Two minutes into the second half saw you being carried off on a stretcher with a torn hamstring. You'd fallen to the grass, no sounds coming from your limp body. Jaemin swore he felt his heart plunge into his ass, and with a frantic flourish, he was coddling your head into his chest.

"Luck, don't die on me. I'm supposed to take you out for ice cream after this, and I stole Renjun's Baskin Robbins loyalty card to cut costs so if we don't go, I'll be getting beat up without having kissed your stupid face." He babbled, slapping your cheeks, scared that you'd genuinely lost your life.

You groaned, rolling slowly in the elastic. "Stop touching my face, I'll get acne." Mildly concussed, you soothed your throbbing headache, registering Jaemin's face looming over you. "Jaemin?"

"Oh, thank God. Thought I'd never see that unruly sparkle in your eyes again."

"Fuck off. My hamstring feels like a fried chicken mukbang and you're talking about my eyes."

"I can't cry before our first date. You'll think I'm a wimp."

"Already think that."

He hit your arm lightly, beaming at your focus on his face, meeting your eyes. You were glaring at him with a kissable pout on your lips, eyebrows furrowed — he wanted to pepper your face in balmy kisses.

The paramedic pushed him away, leading you to the ambulance. You flipped him off, yelling loudly as they wheeled you in, "Make sure you win! Won't forgive you if you don't."

The girl's football team had gathered around the door, all tight-lipped smiles and crumpled faces. They visibly brightened at your declaration, huddling together to recalibrate — the ref blew her whistle to call them back, summoning them back into position.

Yangyang and Donghyuck left the stands, rushing into the ambulance alongside you, closing the door behind them. Jaemin could faintly hear your loud curses, and sighed in relief, knowing that you'd be fine.

With two goals up, the team were at optimum working speed, playing loyally for your honour. Jaemin stood at the sidelines, holding your jacket in his hands as he recorded the match on his phone, wanting to send it to you later.

At 90 minutes, the girl's team had become the winner of the Division One Seoul Inter-district championship, and Jaemin was content. Not because it meant you'd go on that date with him, but because he could feel how much it meant to them.

Everyone around him was cheering madly, chanting and spraying assorted drinks in each other's faces, an infectious joy lingering in his veins. Amongst all the commotion, he'd somehow been pushed into the middle of the team, feeling their gazes boring into his frame.

"You like Cap'n, right?" The brunette said, eyes bright.

"No. I don't like her. She's my rival." Jaemin lied pathetically, trying to escape their judgement.

"Why were you in the locker room then?"

"Damn. How do you know that?"

"Cap'n is horrible at lying, so she's always upfront. She also cannot do an impression so she never attempts it."

"Wow, you guys sure know your stuff. Bet she's glad to have a team like you. I know I'm feeling a little jealous."

"Cut the smooth talk. If you like Cap'n, just be straightforward. She's more innocent than she seems, and can get her heart broken easily."

"Got it." He nodded, "Well...ladies, I have to thank you for the advice."

"No problem, but if you break her heart.." They chorused, "We'll break that pretty little nose." Fifteen studded feet swung at his face, narrowly skimming the bridge of his nose.

He flinched, caught off guard, grin bared. "Now, I definitely got that message. I'll be going to check up on her, what do you want me to say?"

"We've already called her and shown her the trophy, so we have nothing left to say, you, however...take all the time you need."

"Since I have your blessing, am I allowed to—"

"Don't finish that sentence. Keep in your lane."

Jaemin promptly closed his mouth, and bid them a goodbye, dashing into his car towards the hospital, stopping at Baskin Robbins to buy the ice cream he promised. He hoped you’d at least be able to eat the sprinkles (the ones you liked were expensive, and if you didn’t eat them, he’d just wasted an extra 2,500 won.)

In the hospital, you were now dressed in a medical gown, surrounded by the two idiots. It smelt like an experiment lab, and the spotless shades of ivory splashed on the walls made you feel a tad bit overwhelmed.

Your leg had already undergone the MRSI scan, and the nurses had told you that you’d definitely tore your hamstring, but surgery would fix it right up along with natural healing.

Of course, all those details lacked in comparison to your team finally winning the trophy you’d worked so hard towards — that excitement numbed the pain considerably.

“We thought you’d somehow died.” Yangyang confessed, grasping your hands in his clammy ones.

“You did.” Donghyuck sneered, pointing at him, continuing when he saw your face change in confusion. “Yang was convinced that you were invincible like Superman or something. He started blubbering about how you could definitely defeat the grim reaper in close contact and that should be enough to steal back your soul or whatever—”

“I’m just never going to ask questions again.”

“Jaemin was on the verge of a breakdown when he saw you fall. Never have I ever seen him run so fast towards a girl.” Donghyuck said, hand on chin in mock thought.

You blushed, remembering your promise about the ice cream and falling back into the bed in distress.

“What’s going on with you? I saw you two all friendly at the sidelines.” Yangyang murmured, eyes squinting in judgement. “Don’t tell me...you guys fucked before the game?”

Suddenly it was too hot in the room. You fanned yourself to cool down, slapping your own cheeks before pulling Yangyang’s ears. “Yeah, because I have the guts to just have my first time in a school setting.” You deadpanned.

“Naughty girl.” Both boys swooned, unable to note your sarcasm.

“Just because my leg is gone doesn’t mean I can’t harm you anymore. I’ll break your kneecaps.”

In the midst of your fight with your best friends, you spotted Jaemin opening the door, wearing that greasy smirk that made butterflies tickle your throat.

“I see a broken leg isn’t enough to stop you, is it?” Jaemin drawled from the door, hands behind his back. “Still threatening people?”

“It’s not threatening if they deserve it.” You mumbled, suddenly shy. Jaemin maintained his distance from you, arm outstretched, ice cream tub in hand. He was looking away from you, faint blush tinting his cheeks, lips squeezed in a puffy ‘o’.

“Not that I remembered or anything, but you did say something about liking these sprinkles.” He said, eyes darting around to focus on anything but you.

“I do...like these sprinkles..how did you know?”

“Everyone calls you star, and you’re cute. It’s your personality in an edible sugar shape.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, forgetting both Donghyuck and Yangyang were seated in the room. It felt like the two of you were just stuck in your own world, glaring at each other like a pair of lovers.

Unfortunately, that moment was cut short by your ungracious best friends, cooing annoyingly. They were squealing like little girls, incomprehensible screams of ‘our girl’s grown up!’ scraping your eardrums.

“Leave me alone!” You whined, face scrunched in discomfort, making futile attempts to push them away. “Jaemin...please get these two off me.”

“Asking your boyfriend to get rid of us? Already?” Yangyang hollered, one of Jaemin’s arms stopping him from jumping on you again.

“He’s not my boyfriend. As of now, he’s the only sensible one who isn’t mauling the girl with a broken leg, and that’s why I’m asking him for help.”

“Should I throw them out?”

“Yes —actually, do whatever. Let them go terrorise someone that isn’t me.”

“Your wish is my command.”

On that, Jaemin escorted both boys outside, shutting the door on them, cutting off the beginning to their long-winded rant with a smile. That left the two of you alone.

Oddly enough, the silence wasn’t stifling but rather a conversation of the mind — you were able to see what he wanted to say by looking into those mocha coloured eyes. You threw the ice cream tub in the bin, reaching for Jaemin’s hands shyly.

He’d sat down beside you on the bed, just staring at you like you were an abstract painting, a mosaic of a splendid array, unable to take his eyes off you. He took your hand warmly, running his fingers over your calloused knuckles, sharing his heat with you.

“Jaemin.” You yawned, head falling onto his shoulder. “I’m saying yes to your date. If I didn’t get injured, you could’ve taken me out today, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry. Being with you is enough for me, even if I do want to comment on your horrible tackles during the match.” Jaemin teased, grabbing your hand a little tighter.

“Haha...I’m dying of laughter.”

“Hey! None of that here.”

“Sorry. I’m just happy. My team won our first championship, which we’ve been trying to do for three years, and I feel on top of the world. All those years of boys being absolute dickheads to us about our abilities, trying to put us down have amounted to this moment. I’m at peace right now.”

“Don’t apologise. I should be sorry instead. It was easier to talk to you if I pretended I hated you. I shouldn’t have been like that.”

“I accept your apology. But..I think it was cute you couldn’t tell me you liked me! That’s so endearing.”

“Fuck off.”

“That’s my line! Well, you were always attractive to me, even when you were being a dickhead. Now that I think about it, you’re at your hottest when you’re being mean.”

“Is that so?” Jaemin mused, rolling onto his hands, dangling over you, lips eerily close to your own. “Do you want me to treat you mean, keep you keen?”

“Firstly, don’t ever say that again.” You stopped him, hand placed on his chest to push him away lightly. “Secondly, I’ve never had a boyfriend or my first kiss. That means no experience.” You slurred that last part, rushing the words so he wouldn’t be able to hear.

“Cap’n, you’re telling me that I’ll be your first?”

“Not if you don’t ask me out.”

Jaemin sat back beside you, looking up to the ceiling. This was the moment. He took a deep breath, standing up before you, hands rubbing his stomach softly to calm down.

“I wanted to do a real dramatic confession, but I rushed over here in fear that you wouldn’t be able to hit me again, so I’ll have to stick with my speech.” He cheesed, trying to ease himself of his nerves. You laughed, hissing in mock anger when he wore that stupid grin. “I like you. Like a lot. Sometimes, I come to school with a dirty scowl on my face, but then I see your face and start smiling like a love struck fool. You’re someone that I wouldn’t want to lose.”

“Jaemin, you little mongrel. Come here.” You waved him over, arms outstretched in a hug. “Even though I know your ego won’t let you ask me out properly, I would love to be your girlfriend. However, if my heart is broken..I’ll be stoning your car.”

“Thought you were gonna say that you’d break my face.”

“That too.”

He snuggled closer into you, peering up at you with shining eyes, not wanting to move too much to keep you comfortable. You grinned back at him, placing a soft kiss on his head, running a hand through his hair.

That familiar silence returned, and that’s how you fell asleep with Na Jaemin enveloped in your chest. Although you’d broken a leg, Lady Luck seemed to have twiddled her fingers to send you a ‘get well soon’ present, the ever cunning Na Jaemin.

Five months later had you no longer hobbling around on crutches like a hobbit, but walking proud and tall. Jaemin drove you to school (using the excuse of carpooling) and helped you take your books to first period everyday — the alpha male in him winced seeing you attempt any ‘heavy lifting’, and he’d made it a routine.

“Can you fuck off? I can carry this.” You complained, pinching his side. “Just because I see a physio biweekly doesn’t mean I’m about as able-bodied as a monkey.”

“Got the hair to be a monkey.” He snorted.

“Look who’s talking, Mr.Sasquatch. Bigger feet than his prints, you little scoundrel.”

“Big feet means big—”

“Don’t finish that if you wanna keep the body part in question.”

“—heart. Dirty girl.”

You felt the honey pooling in your stomach, kissing his cheek in haste to escape his relentless teasing. He shut up at that, pulling you back to kiss you properly, attracting the attention of everyone in the hallway.

“Get to class.” He announced as he parted from you, enjoying your petulant face. You hit him softly, flipping him off from behind you, blowing him a kiss.

Ah, Na Jaemin. You still hated him. Just a little less this time.

#na jaemin imagines #jaemin imagines #jaemin scenarios #jaemin fluff #na jaemin scénarios #na jaemin fluff #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct #nct dream #nct2020 #kpop imagines #kpop scénarios #kpop fluff #kpop #nct smut #kpop smut

[instasiswetrust]

In Glory, In Ruin (Part 6)

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---------

Billy wanted to soak in the water until it ran cold. Until his fingers pruned. But he's never been able to sit still and let anything lie. There's just always been too much of him, angry and hungry, itching for action and purposes of his own devising.

So out of the tub, dripping onto the floor, draining the greywater away. There are soft cloths, meant for toweling dry. He's heard stories of these. Thought it was fanciful tales.

They feel as soft and wasteful as they look.

And warm. Very warm.

He can haul more water from the rain well above. Wash his clothes and then dry them by the fire in the main hall. Stay cozy, wrapped in this soft cloth until then. Yes. A plan. Good plan.

Then he'll see about that trellis vine.

----

It took a little more than an hour but at last, Nancy had come back with two bundles of simple clothes that she pushed into his arms. Steve was wise enough not to ask where she had gotten them, thanking her profusely for her help instead.

His conversation with Nancy earlier had left him thinking, working out ways on how he was going to court Billy. It was true he didn't know much about the Omega, his knowledge was entirely extracted from watching him and the way he interacted with his surroundings.

Maybe if they talked more, Steve could fix that.

Once again he knocks on the door, stepping inside when he's got Billy's okay. It's all it takes for his thoughts to screech to a halt.

Billy is sitting by the fire, bundled up in a white fluffy towel that barely covers enough skin to be decent. Next to him, the clothes he was wearing seem to be half dry already. It's difficult not to find the whole scene cute, and Steve has to bite back the instinct to purr.

"Here, I think these should fit you." He sets the bundles of clothes at the foot of the canopy bed, making sure not to overtly stare at the Omega. "I'm gonna wait outside while you get dressed."

---

Steve comes and goes, all in the span of a minute. Doesn't even give Billy the chance to get up - just sets some neatly folded clothes upon the ridiculously lavish bed and sees himself out.

(He doesn't look at Billy. No more than a sparing glance, a second at most, before turning away and moving on. Somehow this hurts worse than any wound he's ever earned.)

Billy still stares at the door for a full minute longer than he ought. It won't open. Steve won't come back in.

(Won't look at you.)

So he lets the towel fall and rises up to pick through the clothing. It's expensive and impossible. Rich satin. Colorful brocade. Beading and embroidery and wealth in every stitch. It feels like he shouldn't be touching them at all, like he's stolen them, and yet -

An outfit suited for activity. An outfit suited for leisure. There's a choice here, and a challenge. No, no a snare. Not one lain by Steve. No, the prince and he shook on this deal. The trap is the nobility as a whole, a united entity.

Billy is here to spite them. Billy's here to ruin the whole mechanism.

He'd be more comfortable in the red outfit, so similar to the fine doublet and pants Steve's garbed in. The one that looks like it's meant for activity. Riding. Hunting. It's what's expected of him to take, he reasons. He's the feral little omega boy, after all, playing rough to mimic alphas. That's what choosing this would say, and the story spun from it would be full of scathing false pity.

He won't be caught in that snare.

He chooses the outfit of leisure, and lets himself swim in soft cotton petticoats and olive silks dripping in seed pearls.

The stupid little shoes are unnecessary - his bare feet are tamed and strong. Needn't bother with flimsy silk protections. But the little clicks of the heels are sorta satisfying, and he needs the whole ensemble if he's to ruin it all later.

The goal is shock and awe. In any order it may come.

That's the deal.

---

As Steve waits outside the door for Billy to finish getting ready, he allows himself to think about what comes next after this.

For one, they would have a month, maybe two, before Court would be assembled and a Royal Ball would be arranged to make the engagement public. That gave them roughly a month to teach Billy the basic rules of etiquette, one or two ballroom dances, and a quick rundown of the noble families that controlled the various sections of the kingdom alongside his parents.

Steve would have to talk with Nancy about drafting up a schedule.

It seemed nearly impossible to accomplish on time but it would work. It had to. He wouldn't allow them to drag Billy down like they had done to him countless times before. He did not deserve that.

At last, Steve's allowed back inside, only to blush at the sight that greets him. Goddess above, it seems like he can't stop becoming a mess when it comes to Billy.

"You look beautiful," It's stated with awe, honesty hanging off every word. Albeit, Steve must admit that the frilly Omega-oriented clothes aren't exactly the reason why he thinks as much. "It's missing something though."

From his pocket, he pulls out an intricately crafted ring made with rose gold and inlaid with sapphires in the shape of a flower.

"For you."

---

Idly, Billy wonders if he should have taken his mask. Let it sit upon his face, bearing the heinous smile and cold eyes. It would be far from proper, being a horrid thing made of grubby porcelain, stained with genuine blood. A lovely contrast with the pretty gown - and a betrayal of what he truly is. Irony, and truth.

(He'd also feel safer with it on. It's uncomfortable, here, without it.)

"Pretty." He takes the ring from the prince's hands. Smiles, half rueful, half in jest, "I take it I can't pawn this one?"

He's not sure if it's a mere trinket or if it's ... it's the symbol of engagement. Only one of these things is meant to be kept, as far as he's concerned.

(All of the seed pearls on this dress will find their way to Max. He swears by it. One by one, if it must come to that.)

"Oh." His voice feels so thin and airy. All he did was slip on the ring, and it fits upon his ring finger all too flawlessly. It's too pretty for his crooked fingers and scarred palms. It's too omega and he's -

He's just a vulture. An opportunist.

"You're right." He says and though his mouth is dry and his throat is tight, he straightens the ring upon his finger and gathers up his skirts. "I'm missing something."

Billy goes back and he grabs his mask.

He won't be allowed to forget what he is once he steps into the court and the halls of endless vipers. He has the choice now to turn that poison into something else if he so chooses. And he does.

He slips back outside his chambers and tucks his arm in Steve's, mask settled happily upon his face once more.

The court will never permit him to forget what he is.

He won't let them ever forget who he is.

From the poison, Billy son of None chooses to forge a knife.

---

"Keep it as a safeguard of sorts for now. And it does give us a few liberties that tradition otherwise wouldn't have permitted." He hums, watching as the ring his mother chose herself settles itself onto crooked fingers. To him, it's not meaningful at all, just another symbol of status thrust upon who would be his mate by parents that never cared enough.

"If you still wish to pawn it once the Court has accepted you, you're free to do as you wish. I'm not exactly fond of the things my mother has picked."

In the safety of his thoughts, he swears to himself that once things have finally settled down he would get Billy something that he had picked by himself. Something that wasn't meant for the sort of Omega his parents wanted for him.

Maybe even something...

Something that would fit the person he had fallen in love with.

At the sight of the familiar mask, a soft laugh bubbles out of his lips. It eases something in his chest that he didn't know was coiled tight in the first place, and it makes him realize that it is this side of Billy that he prefers the most. Sharp like a knife, and rough around all the edges.

It's what had drawn him in, that very first time.

"I believe the kitchen staff will be unnerved by the sight, but I agree this already seems much better."

Even if he will mourn the loss of Billy's eyes behind the porcelain of the mask.

---

"You're an idealist, aren't you?" Billy cocks his head to the side, watching Steve out of the corner of his eye as they walk slow. As he leads them somewhere. Elsewhere. "Believing the Court's gonna accept me, at all."

It makes Billy laugh.

"Cute."

#steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #stranger things #royalty au #fake dating

[sizzlingpatrolfox]

i've been watching a lot of bts content lately and one thing i can't get over is how behind the scenes , jikook are veryy rarely not together? now i have people i'd deadass call soulmate, yet we're not attached to the hip 24/7? and it's not even just me lol , i live in a very multiculti place and i've never seen two people who are always together like that ( that werent partners ofc). i actually didnt really think much of jikook before but now i'm just eh ??

Yes definitely are the two in the group who gravitate towards each other the most. I've always believed and said that, at least within BTS, they are that person for each other. I've no way of knowing if when they have the chance to hang out with other people they still choose to hang out with each other (apart from Jungkook's birthdays), but at least they very obviously have chosen to hang around each other for years while they're working as BTS.

Mmm for me, there's a gender and age element to it. Here where I live, in my culture, women are together all the time. When I was in high school, some of my friends had activities after school (tennis, swimming, that kind of stuff) and I would go with them sometimes and watch them play and wait for them by the side of the court. I had my english lessons and my friends would know exactly what time I went in and got out and they would wait for me outside the school so we'd hang out. When I started college, it was the same but with different friends; girls I would walk to and from class because we wanted to, and then on the weekend we'd go out.

Back in middle school I had a friend who lived a few blocks away from me; I was at her house almost everyday. In high school it was the same, I had a friend who lived two blocks away from me and we would hang out almost every afternoon, ride bikes together, go for runs together, skate together. We weren't even that close at first but like that, doing things together, she became one of my best friends and I even ended up falling in love with her.

In college too I had a friend who lived in the building next to mine and she would randomly text me "come sleep with me" and I'd grab my stuff and walk to her place in my pajamas.

I have my cousins and my sister with whom I spend lotssss and I mean LOTS of time together, doing everything together. I'm not a "distance makes the heart grow fonder" type of person at all lmao, distance means distance. Whoever said that quote in the first place was trying to break ties with someone else if I'm honest.

Anyways, sorry if this is messy.

It's completely "acceptable" and normal for two girls in high school or early college to do all that. As time goes by, you're expected to and also just life happens and by the time you're 30 you don't do as much sleepovers with your girl friends as you did in high school or college. And if you're 30 and sleeping in the same bed with your friend several nights a week, it's not crazy to think you two might be in a relationship. So yeah, even if you're 30 and still want to platonically sleep with your bestie in the same bed, it can come off as... weird, at the least. Because by the time you're 30 you are expected to, and a lot of people actually want to get a steady partner or job or get rich so they're all working towards goals like that. I think that BTS already being settled so early in life, they already have some things crossed off their lists, like steady job, or money, so it's completely normal if they are looking for steady partners. Since their professional careers seem kind of laid out already, if I were them, my next step would be to focus on my love life.

For men, here in my culture, it's not really common to spend that much time together. Like, if two guys in high school or college are that close the same as two women, it's already an extraordinary friendship. If two guys past their 25s are still together 24/7 then idk. I don't think it's that common with korean men either.

So having all that in mind, yeah. If jikook spend as much time together off camera, as they do on camera, then there's something weird about that relationship. Not weird in a bad sense, just weird as in it's not really the norm, considering gender (male) and age (past their mid 20s). They aren't living together right now, but the fact they did live together for a while is definitely interesting, to say the least and it's interesting no matter the culture.