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libraryofgage · 10 months

Note

Please write for 42. Maybe it could be something dealing with Steve overhearing something he shouldn't have,maybe something the kids say, or Eddie says to someone. Whatever it is it makes him feel like shit. He talks to Eddie, or Robin (or both!) about how much he's changed over the past few years and how he didn't end up being the person everyone thought he'd be, but after what hes overheard he's crying because even though he did all he could he feels lonelier than ever.

Anon, I love you

Prompt 42 for this prompt list!

“Who’s laughing now?”

“…Clearly not you. You’re crying, dear God.”

I didn't use these quotes exactly, but I came close. It still fits them, though lmao

---

"I should be right back," Steve says, throwing open the van door before hopping out. The moment it closes, Eddie blasts the heavy metal he usually can't because of Steve's sensitive ears. Steve snorts with amusement and heads towards the diner, the smell of fried food and grilling beef overwhelming him the moment he opens the door.

Steve heads up to the counter, flashing a charming smile at Paula, a woman who's been working at the diner longer than Steve has been alive. "We got your usual almost ready, sugar," she tells him, returning the smile as she grabs a receipt from the turning rack and leads him over to the register.

It's a Friday night, which means the diner is bursting with teenagers hanging out in groups or trying to have a romantic date. Steve doesn't usually see anyone he feels like greeting when he picks up food, but a quick sweep this time reveals a table where Jonathan, Argyle, Nancy, Mike, and Will are sitting. Their table is close to the bar, but none of them seem to have noticed Steve because of their conversation, which is just fine with him.

If he gets dragged into a conversation, he might take too long and make Eddie worry. And if Eddie worries, he'll come bursting into the diner, and there are too many people in here that still blame him for...well, everything, for that to be safe.

"Your total is gonna be $12.93," Paula says, watching as Steve distractedly pulls a twenty from his wallet.

"Keep the change. I'll be waiting over there," he says, nodding to a bar stool somewhat close to where his friends are sitting. He then slides into said stool, leaning on the counter and trying to ignore how sticky it is.

He's close enough now to hear the tail-end of Argyle saying, "--eems like such a nice dude, though."

Mike snorts at him. "You didn't know Steve when he was dating Nancy," he points out.

Oh. They're...talking about him. Steve gets the feeling he should walk away, but he also feels stuck in the stool.

"He wasn't that bad," Nancy says. Silence follows her words, and Steve can imagine the looks she's getting. "Okay, yeah, he was an asshole."

"He smashed my camera," Jonathan says, and Steve wonders if he's imagining a trace of bitterness in his voice.

Here's the thing: Steve apologized for smashing the camera (though, he feels it was still justified) and got Jonathan a new one. A fancy, new one. But it doesn't sound like Jonathan is going to include that detail, too.

"He's a lot better now, though," Will says, and Steve wants to get him a new set of dice for trying to stick up for him.

He then wants to cry and maybe break something when he hears Jonathan and Mike snort and bark out a short laugh.

Steve feels himself grow tense as Nancy and Jonathan regale Argyle with how shitty he was in high school. He keeps waiting for one of the kids to refute or bring up how he's changed, but Mike only adds to it all while Will stays quiet, probably unwilling to get himself laughed at again (not that Steve blames him, honestly).

None of them actually point out how Steve's changed. They laugh at how much of a douchebag he was in high school, and Jonathan tells Argyle to "watch out for King Steve coming through" now that nothing is trying to kill them again.

And Steve feels sick to his stomach. Has...has he not actually changed? Is he really the same King Steve he was in high school? Is he still that asshole who didn't give a shit about others because he was just trying to survive himself, no matter who it hurt? Is this how everyone sees him?

"All right, sugar. Here's your cheeseburgers," Paula says, placing a bag in front of him and jerking him out of his thoughts. "One without tomato but with extra ketchup, and the other with grilled onions."

Steve blinks and smiles at Paula again. "Thanks. Same time next week?"

He waits to see Paula's amused smile and playfully dismissive wave before grabbing the bag and practically running out of the restaurant. He doesn't know if it's good or bad that nobody at the table seems to have noticed his presence or departure.

Steve jerks the door to the van open, not waiting for Eddie to turn the music down before hopping in and slamming it shut. He silently pulls on his seatbelt, holds the food in his lap, and stares at the glove compartment.

"Uh, you okay, Stevie?" Eddie asks, his hand lingering on the volume dial.

"I don't wanna talk about it here," Steve says. Because he's going to talk about it with Eddie, the only other person he trusts to be honest with him is Robin. But this is date night for him and Eddie, and even when he's drowning in self-doubt, Steve doesn't want anyone else to interrupt their date night.

Thankfully, Eddie just nods. "Okay, sweetheart," he says, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road.

Steve doesn't say a word the whole drive, too consumed by forcing himself to focus on Eddie's hand on his thigh. There's a warmth that he feels through the fabric, grounding him and keeping his brain from spiraling too far.

When they finally park (a secluded area close enough to the local make-out spot to still see the romantic stars in the sky without getting caught by anyone else) Eddie turns to Steve and softly asks, "Wanna move to the back, sweetheart?"

Steve grips the bag in his lap tighter, takes a deep breath, and looks at Eddie. He feels a little bad for ignoring the question, but he can't help his worries and fears bubbling out now that they've stopped driving. "I've changed, right? Since high school?"

Eddie blinks, caught off guard by the sudden question. But then he nods. "Yeah, Stevie, you've definitely changed."

"Jonathan and Nancy were in the diner with Argyle, Mike, and Will," Steve says, trying and failing to seem more nonchalant by unbuckling himself and moving to the couch that barely fits in the back of the van. Eddie follows, sitting closer than necessary to eat the burger Steve hands to him. "They were...talking about me. High school me. King Steve. And Jonathan told Argyle to be wary of me. Do they really think I'm the same person?"

"Stevie-"

Steve doesn't let Eddie get far. He's too wrapped up in what happened, too consumed by self-doubt and guilt and the wish that he'd said something to them. His chest feels tight, he feels like the world is going to cave in on him, and the only thing keeping him steady is the way Eddie puts down his burger and pulls Steve into his lap. "And the worst part is that they were laughing. Will tried saying that I was better now, and they fucking laughed. Like it was ridiculous. Like I could never change.

"And I just....I wish I'd said something. I could have ruined their night so fucking easily, Eds. I could have turned around and asked if they always talked shit behind the backs of people who saved them. I could have asked if Jonathan didn't like the replacement camera I got him, or if he still used it to sneak photos of Nancy."

"Is that why you broke his camera? Fuck, I don't blame you."

Steve manages a slight smile for Eddie. "Thanks. I...I don't know. For all I've changed, it would have been so easy to just turn around and be who they thought I still was. And then I would've torn them down to the size of ants. And...and...I wish I had but I don't but I do, so I could've ended it with who's laughing now?"

Steve's chest feels a little looser, and that's a fucking relief, but then he feels Eddie's hand cradling his cheek. "Well, it's definitely not you, sweetheart. Your crying."

Oh. Eddie is right. He is crying. Steve hastily wipes at the tears before just giving up and leaning into Eddie's touch. "Sorry," he mumbles.

"Don't apologize. I almost wish you had done it. And that I'd been there to see it."

"No, you don’t."

Eddie grins, pulling Steve closer so they're chest-to-chest, heart-to-heart. "Yeah, I do. I love when you get bitchy, sweetheart. Especially when it means we can be bitchy together."

Steve blinks, and he can't help laughing. The words were simple, but they still managed to erase all the doubt and some of the hurt. He still probably needs a few days before he can actually look at Jonathan or Nancy or Mike again, but he doesn't feel so immediately devastated.

"Somehow, that was the perfect thing to say," he tells Eddie, closing the distance between them to kiss his lips, getting a hint of ketchup on his tongue.

"Perfect enough to earn me some fun?" Eddie asks, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

Steve sighs dramatically, pretends to think about it as he actually laments that their burgers will get cold, and then pushes Eddie down on the couch.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington angst #steddie fluff #established steddie #prompt list #my writing #i hope you like it anon!

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starsurface · 3 months

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Hi sorry for requesting again but I was wondering you had CG Headcannons for Mk 11 Johnny Cage ? He's a comfort character at the moment and I'm happy to see you do content for MK 10,11 and 1 :) sorry again for being awkward in my first ask I've been off tumblr for a while and recently came back ...

MK11 Johnny Cage!!! <3

And your fine, don't worry one bit!!

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

CG Johnny Cage MK11 Hcs

💫 Depending on where we are on the timeline depends on how ‘good’ on a CG he is (all CGs are good, they're trying their best <3)

💫 Younger Johnny is more of a babysitter or older brother figure, but still a pretty good CG

💫 Older Johnny takes on a more stable CG role (we're gonna focus on him)

💫 You have so much Johnny Cage merch!!!!

💫 Any kind of doll or stuffie made of him, you've already got it!!

💫 You've even got some shirts with his old movie designs

💫 Mostly you have these because he gets a copy of almost anything ever made of him (and he likes to spoil you <3)

💫 Older Johnny has kinda left his old Hollywood life behind, joining the military and doing some movies here or there

💫 He's settled down, more to Earth than his other selves

💫 That will not stop him from buying anything you want, no matter the price

💫 You want a yummy treat? What kind? He's already got his wallet put

💫 He knows you have a thousand and one plushies . . . But a few more can't reeeeeeally hurt anyone

💫 You are his baby and nothing is allowed to harm a hair on your head

💫 You think your clingy? Psh, you haven't seen Cage Clingy

💫 Constantly wants to hold or coddle you, your just so cute!!

💫 But like, he guesses he can let you go run off, but he has to be nearby and you have to be in eye distant!!!

💫 Matching Johnny Cage inspired jammies (he happened to have them already)

💫 He has a habit of babying you even if you regress older

💫 If you like being treated like a princess/prince/royalty? Brilliant!! He's got you covered!!

💫 If you want more independence, he's decent with it, and will treat you more your age

💫 Finds middlespace regresses entertaining (mostly if your an emo regressor)

💫 Loves making bracelets and drama when your bigger

💫 Drama can be almost anything, including this dramatic thing that happened in your favorite TV show

💫 Babble encourager!!!

💫 Full blown conversations with babblers, he thinks they're adorable

💫 If you want to have him dress up and have a tea party, he's so for it

💫 Make him wear a tiara and tutu, he'll do it with pride

💫 Will also let you paint his nails any color you want

💫 While he loves and babies you, he also puts his foot down >:(

💫 If your a rule breaker, prepare for a bunch of timeout time, because there's almost not changing his mind (unless you regress really small)

💫 Won't punish you if it was an accident though, he's not terribly mean

💫 If you ever offer to spar or wrestle him while your tiny, he'll generally laugh

💫 Not at you!! Well, kinda

💫 It's just, your so cute!! Thinking you could beat him up, that's so adorable 🥺

💫 He'll let you fight him though (and probably let you win, but you don't reeeeally gotta know that)

💫 He'll treat you with ice cream when you ‘win’

💫 He's getting old, but he's got the energy he had when he was in his 20s (y'all he's like almost 60 in MK11 can you believe that??)

💫 If you regress as base, your either right by his side holding his hand, or your always in reach just in case

💫 There is a not touching rule on everything if your small on base, there's a lot of dangerous stuff and Johnny's not having you get hurt

💫 He'll do his little “Here's Johnny!!” while playing peek-a-boo

💫 Sometimes he'll egg you on to do naughty things he finds funny (like prank Sonya by putting a bit of salt in her coffee)

💫 Will also take the blow when Sonya starts getting pissy because someone (👀) ruined her coffee

💫 Your naptime? Nuh-uh. Our naptime 😎

💫 Man's old, he'd love to just laze around and cuddle

💫 But he's also got the spirit of a child, and would love to run around with you

💫 If your small while he's working out, he'll laugh as you try to pick up his weight

💫 He'll probably give you one of those workout balls or some super light weights so you can be just like Daddy :D

💫 . . . Dad jokes 😒

💫 And sometimes they're not even good!! Most times they're just to poke or annoy you!! >:(

💫 Most times they're actually really funny though

💫 Favorite CG nicknames are Daddy, Dada, Papa, Bubba, and literally anything you wanna call him

💫 Your go-to babysitters are Sonya and Cassie

💫 (Maybe also Jax and Kenshi)

💫 Cassie and Sonya both love you, you've got the whole Cage family behind your back

💫 Favorite little nicknames to call you are Princess, Baby Girl/Boy, Little One, Sweetiepie, Honey, Little Star

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

I hope they're more MK11 Johnny and not MK1 Johnny, and I can always do more or something like that. <3

#age regression #agere #sfw age regression #age regression headcanons #mortal kombat agere #sfw agere #mk agere #mk11 headcanons #mk11 #mortal kombat 11 headcanons #mortal kombat 11 #mortal kombat x #mkx #Johnny cage x reader #mk11 johnny cage #mk11 Johnny cage x reader #mkx johnny cage x reader #cg johnny cage #caregiver Johnny cage

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urlocalnonbinarybastardwrites · 28 days

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How would the gang react to a m!soc reader that honest to god courts Pony?? Like, the whole package.

I know it’s not very realistic considering their time period, but let’s just say that m!soc isn’t very up to date on the way most Tulsa teens date. Instead of calling Pony or taking him out to the movies, m!soc does things like writing Pony literal pages of heartfelt letters, kissing Pony’s hand, buying Pony lots of genuinely thought-out gifts, etc.

M!soc comes from a very traditional and Catholic family - but despite his upbringing, m!soc constantly reassures Pony he is not ashamed of their relationship and wants to give Pony the absolute world. He says the most poetic shit abt Pony’s personality and looks and sees genuine beauty in Pony’s life, even though it’s so different from his

M!soc is lowkey a rlly quiet and sullen person. If resting sad face was a thing, he’d have it and it’d be absolutely heartbreaking. The way he looks at Pony is the way jewelers handle a diamond- with pure admiration, unadulterated care and painful consideration. M!soc knows that within seconds he could give Pony anything and everything, but he knows Pony hates charity and he completely respects it, never daring to cross any of Pony’s boundaries in case he loses the one good thing he knows

Sure pookie I love this

Gang Reacts to Pony with M!Conservative!Down Bad! Soc

Ponyboy Curtis

-he’s so flattered he doesn’t really know what to do

-feels like he doesn’t deserve the attention

-he keeps all the gifts and feels like he’s in a story

-like you’re the Romeo to his Juliet my man

-I mean he literally feels like he’s in a fairytale

-and has never met anyone who can make him feel like that

-he loves it so much and loves you back too

-he admires you so much and doesn’t judge you for being a Soc

-loves everything about you, your soft sullen eyes

-your thoughtful heart

-you both go on the most fantastic well thought out dates

-he feels like he isn’t good enough for you and needs constant reassurance

Johnny Cade

-he really likes you

-he thinks you’re amazing for Pony

-he looks upon the piles and piles of gifts in awe and wonder

Sodapop Curtis

-it’s hard for him to wrap his mind around the fact you actually exist

-you just seem so.. almost mystical

-with your eyes and wallets and old fashioned behavior

-he is kinda playful skeptical of your relationship at first

-but grows more comfortable with you over time when he sees you happy you make Ponyboy

-and how heartfelt you are

Darry Curtis

-doesn’t like you one bit at first

-judges you for being a Soc

-which

-slowly starts to change when he sees how amazingly seem to improve pony’s mood

-he gets into fights with him less, even

-he’s really happy that pony has someone like you

-lowkey asks you to pay for pony’s college 😭

Dallas Winston

-he doesn’t know how the shit pony got so lucky

-he finds you a bit off at first but I mean hey

-Pony’s got himself a sugar daddy/j he would say that tho 💀

Two Bit Mathews

-he is actually so happy and supportive

-he makes teasing quips about how pony’s lover is stuck in the 19th century

-but that’s about it

-genuinely gets excited whenever pony talks about you

Steve Randle

-he definitely teases Pony about it

-eh fuck it he can be happy for sodapops kid brother just this once

-he does secretly really ship you both

-he and soda both talk about how cute you both are together

#urlocalnonbinarybastardwritesanswers #the outsiders hcs #the outsiders headcanons #two bit mathews #johnny cade #the outsiders #dallas winston #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #steve randle #ponyboy curtis

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kissesinelevators · 9 months

Text

After Dark Pt. 1

Synopsis: What do you do when there’s a man with fangs lurking in the shadows, swearing he can keep you safe but ever since he’s popped up in your life things just get worse? Change is weird and very permanent.

Pairing: Spider-Man 2099 x female reader

Word Count: 5,761

Genre and Warnings: Romance, Angst, Smut (eventually), Obsession, Violence, Stalking, Slow Burn (kind of)

18 + Part 2 3

Changes happen every day here. New York was called the Big Apple, you wasn’t sure why. You had never really seen an apple tree here. Things just don’t make sense. They never do.

“That will be $75.35.” You hand the invoice over the the shorter balding gentleman who had a mustache so great it looked like he was a bounty hunter.

“No, I was told over the phone it would be $20.” You turn around and grab his hung up coat that was neatly pressed and washed. You behind to unwrapped it from the plastic bag and presented it to him.

“Sir, there were a lot of bodily fluids along with other things.” A hint of disdain was clear in your voice. “We charge extra for that. Usually I can give you an accurate quote over the phone but sometimes I’m not told exactly what the issue is unto it gets here.” The older man shook his head and angrily took his card out of his wallet.

“Fine, but don’t charge me the card fee.” You take his card.

“I’m sorry sir but you know it’s .50 cents.” He grumbled under his breath as he gets charged out. You put the coat back in the plastic bag and hand it to him along with his card and receipt. “Have a wonderful day.” He takes the items from your hands and walked out.

You sigh and sit down at the counter of your store. You look around, and start thinking about how maybe you should really clean out the cobwebs in the upper corners of the store. Not that it was difficult but it was much higher up than you could reach even with the broom. You wonder if the spider living there would ever come by and say hi, or at least help you scare away the people who come by to hit up your store for free cash.

Your dry cleaners store wasn’t successful so to say, you couldn’t hire anyone else to help you. You practically lived here, might as well since there wasn’t enough to afford rent in New York as it was. The shop was passed down to you through generations of family members. Your parents decided to migrate back to their home country as the sentiment towards immigrants wasn’t exactly kind and they realised just how much they missed home. You had only ever known New York so that was your only sense of home so despite missing your parents terribly, you stayed behind. And now here you were, 7 years later. You swivel around in the chair of your countertop waiting for new customers. Not that there ever was any.

However, someone did come in after 45 minutes.

“Hello.” You look up from your phone and see a younger man. He looked like he was a teenager.

“Hello.” You reply, putting your phone away back into your pocket. “How can I help you?” The boy grabs his backpack and opens it, pulling out what appears to be a soccer jersey.

“My sibling accidentally spilled wine on my jersey and I have a scrimmage this weekend. I was hoping you were able to help me? I only have $40, will that be enough?” He nervously shifts under your eyes. You smile.

“$20 is more than okay.” He proceeds to hands you his jersey. “It will be finished by Thursday, tomorrow. Is that okay? Like around 11 am?” You take the jersey and hand him a number back as he gives you the crumpled up $20 bill.

“I get off school at like 3, can I pick it up afterwards?” You nod and put the cash in the register. “Great! I’ll see you tomorrow after school!”

“You’re welcome.” You smile warmly at him as he walks out. You start to hang up the jersey behind you, putting on gloves to inspect the stain. Sure enough, it was a bright purple red maybe a few days old. It wasn’t going to easy as it had time to seep and stay there but you would try your best. As you started to make your way further to the back to grab some items to help facilitate the cleaning process, you hear a ring up to the front of your store. “I’ll be right there!” You call out and you grab your white vinegar.

No one responds.

Panic quickly enters your body like cold water shocking the system. You know who it might be.

Recently there had been an influx of robberies around the neighbourhood, armed. Usually though Spider-Man always seemed to be there right in time, conveniently you thought but he was never there when you would get hit. It made you feel uneasy about him. Like something was clearly wrong. The police was basically nonexistent in the part of New York. After all, he was here to protect, why didn’t he protect you?

You hear something heavy fall and you run out towards the front of your store. Sure enough, there was two guys in black baklavas who had knocked over your cash register.

“Hey stranger,” the taller one said with a smile in his voice. “Lou sends his regards. Also, he wants to know what’s going on with this week’s payment? It’s a bit late.” You walk over to the counter and look over, seeing the banged up register.

“I don’t understand why I’m paying weekly if I still get hit. Plus, this place doesn’t make much money, I’m going to lose the place soon.” You plead with the two men, tears clouding up your vision. You try your best to keep it in and stay calm but this wasn’t the first time they do this.

“You know the rules.” The other man speaks softly, more kindly. He kneels down and begins to pry open the register with a screwdriver.

You watch helplessly, allowing the tears to slip out. They don’t look at you while the register is opened forcefully and start counting the cash.

“There’s only like $120 in here.” The taller man points out angrily.

“I told you I don’t make much and you didn’t listen.” Thank god they were always after cash because otherwise you would truly be out on the streets.

“Boss won’t like it.”

You angrily wipe your face clean from the hot tears. “Well I don’t like it either so what can we do?” The other nicer man places your register back on the counter and puts the cash in his pockets.

“You have until Saturday.” He turns away to leave and pulls the taller guy away with him. As they exit the shop you see a shadow on the side of the buildings as it swims by.

Spider-Man.

But surprise surprise, the men who just robbed you don’t even flinch and walk out like nothing is wrong and you know that the tall bulky man cosplaying as some spider hero didn’t even bother to look. What else was new? You roll your eyes as you head to the door behind them and start locking the doors.

You begin to make your way towards the back again when you hear an aggressively loud knocking back in the front of your store against the glass windows. It honestly scares you.

You look back and see an older older, the same one from earlier that didn’t want to pay for his dry cleaning. The choice was to open the door and see what was wrong or walk away.

Why didn’t you just walk away?

You quickly run to the door and unlock it as he quickly slides himself in and shuts the door.

“Lock it please, LOCK IT!” The panic in his voice sends your heart in a frenzy and causes you to fumble with the locks.

“W-what’s wrong?” You almost scream at him in terror. He looks white, lacking of any colour and it’s almost scary because you can see the green and purple hues of his veins through his delicate aging skin of his face. You start to pull the curtains around the windows of the front of your store, your back turned to him when suddenly you hear a clicking sound behind your head.

Time stops, your hands feel numb as they stay in place, twisted in the curtains trying to pull them to the other side of the store to shield the view from within. Your breath hitches in your throat before it makes its way to your lungs. Your brain goes blank.

Things just don’t make sense.

You open your eyes, unaware of how or when you closed them. Something feels wet, your hair is the first thing you see as it is covering your face. But your vision blurs. There’s this pressure in your ears, a muffled like sound. But it starts to irritate you, as if a fly was stuck in there buzzing. You open your mouth and feel your jaw sore, extremely sore as you try to flex it. You suddenly feel liquid on your hands but you can’t yet see what it is. It feels warm but thick. Your knees then start to come into the picture of senses, you feel them raw almost, they’re against something that feels hard as if you were stuck in a box and couldn’t get up from it. Your back is rolled, almost like you’re a rollie pollie. What did you do this morning? What about later during the day? Wasn’t it almost 1 pm? The little boy’s jersey. You have to clean it. It was due tomorrow morning. No, he said he would be there by 3 pm tomorrow. Good, it gives you time to start it.

Ow, what was that?

The awful buzzing in your ears starts to get sharper and the pressure in your head starts to almost seep out through them. Suddenly you hear clearly, the pressure is gone and your eyes roll back into your head from the crash of it.

“Okay, pretty girl. Okay.” A male voice soothes you as a warm large hand makes its way up and down your back, caressing you. You instinctively push up against the hand, you didn’t know whether it was because you were trying to throw them off or leaning into it.

“Ow,” you inaudible gasp out, choking. You start to cough violently, the hand starts to rub circles into your back as you feel the roughness of the cough almost rip through your chest.

“Breathe.” The voice orders, firmly now. You try your best to breathe but your head is pounding more and more intensely.

You let out a pained whimper.

“Please.” The voice leaving you sounds almost inhumane.

“I know. I’m here.” The male voice gets closer to you. “I need to take you somewhere safe. May I?” You nod ever so slowly, fearing that even that movement will rip your brain out through your eyes. “Okay, I need you to hold onto me. You’re bleeding a lot.” The man puts his arms now under you, starts to carry you and puts you over his shoulder. The angle makes your brain scream. “Please knock out, please knock out.” You hear him pleas desperately under his voice. The screaming worsens and you sound realise it’s actually you, your mouth screaming. Eventually everything fades to black as you look at red and blue colours.

“Hey.” The male voice is back. You see darkness. Did you close your eyes again? When did you do that? “Shh, it’s okay.” A large warm hand comes into contact with your skin. “You’re okay.” Part of you wishes that was true. “Can you open your eyes for me, pretty girl?”

You suddenly remember that you can in fact just tell your brain to open your eyes and you do. You see a tall figure in the dimness of wherever it is that you are. Your eyes adjust to the lack of brightness and see a masked figure towering over you. Red and blue.

“You’re Spider-Man.” You manage to cough out.

“Yes I am. Okay so you’re kind of okay.”

“What happened to me?” You then realise you’re in a hospital bed. Why had you not noticed the beeping of the machine next to you?

“A man came into the store you were working at and decided to rob you at gun point. It seems like this was his first time ever because he attacked you first before anything.” Your hands quickly make their way to your head. “No, he didn’t shot you.” You feel bandages on the back of your head, feeling your stomach sink. “It seems like he first cocked his gun and then pistol whipped you but the idiot shot up into the building and scared himself. Your injuries are light despite how much blood appeared. Head wounds bleed more as you have many more vessels there.” He explains as you finger into the bandages terrified that the hospital staff had to shave your head to put these bandages on you. You couldn’t have bald spots! Not now! “You’ll be okay.”

You scoff.

“Wait so when did you get there?” You feel skin and immediately feel nauseous.

“I got there a few seconds afterwards, I heard the gunshot from a few miles away and got there as fast as I could.” You feel light as you pull your fingers out of the bandages around your head. Thank god he didn’t crack your skull.

“That’s a first.” You reply bothered.

He look down at you, a quick squint of his eyes takes place and disappears almost immediately causing you to wonder if you just made that up. Probably did since your brain wasn’t okay at the moment.

“What makes you say that?” You look out of the corner of your eye and see that the curtains are slightly drawn messily but it’s pretty dark outside. The kid’s jersey needed to be done.

“I’ve gotten robbed at my store more times than I can count. I have to pay someone else to supposedly protect my store but he steals from me too. I see you constantly helping everyone but you don’t help me.” You quickly look back at him and sign. “Didn’t. You didn’t help me. Thank you.” You push your hair out of your eyes. “I really appreciate it.” You try your best to sound genuine but you’re angry with him. It’s not his fault, he has a whole city to help, like over millions of people and you’re throwing a tantrum? “Hey I gotta go.” You start trying to get up from the hospital bed, the spill of the moonlight emitting from the poorly drawn curtains make the soft cream colour of the hospital sheets glow as you try your best to swing your legs out to the side of the bed. Spider-Man suddenly leans down and holds your nude legs in his hands, keeping you in place gently. The texture of his suit is almost silicone like, sticky. But the body heat emitting from his hands that engulf your claves feels good.

“No,” he whispers as he leans down closer to you, his towering figure now almost on top of you. With his other free hand he puts his fingers under your chin and directs you to look at him. “You need to stay here.” His breath smells of blueberries and honey for some reason. You close your eyes, inhaling. This was the first time a man had touched you in so long. How could you have forgotten how good it felt?

“But there’s a child’s soccer jersey that I need to fix. He needs it for his um-“ You rattle your brain, flustered and tripping over your words trying your best to concentrate but it’s proving to be difficult because this muscular man who smelled of musk, sweat, blood, and a hint of a certain cologne that induced butterflies in your stomach made it difficult for you to prioritise. “-his un, soccer thing.” The last words come out breathy.

Get a grip! You didn’t even know what he looked like!

The man’s glowing navy blue eye like part of his mask seemed to be staring deeply into your eyes. You felt strangely naked, all your expressions were out for him to see and you couldn’t even tell what he was thinking or feeling. You had to guess off his body language.

“I’ll get it for you if you truly want it that badly.” He almost hisses at you. You’re confused. Why was he angry all of a sudden?

“Oh, oh okay.” You meekly reply. He gently pushes your legs back onto the bed and lets go of you entirely, making you feel heavy on the bed.

“What does it look like?” He calls out as he starts to walk towards the window of your hospital. You doubt it opens.

“It’s red and white, it belongs to a teenager so it’s teenager sized?” You watch as he opens the window with ease. The realisation suddenly hits you.

Why was the curtain of the hospital room so messily closed? Did he bring you to the hospital and then sneak back in through the window to stay with you? The thought sent the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. But that couldn’t be it. Why would Spider-Man do that? That made no sense at all.

He swung out without saying a word, leaving you there in a now darker room with the window open, fresh air filled the room in his absence.

You stayed up, waiting for him to come back. The minutes turned to hours. A nurse came by to check on you and saw the window opened. She looked at the tablet in her hands and made an o shape with her mouth. She went over the window and closed it only slightly.

“We don’t want your friend to not be able to come back.” She says to you, who’s halfway between asleep and awake. She holds the tablet close to her chest and sighs. “You should have seen the way he fought to be with you through everything. But it was difficult since he is Spider-Man. Everyone wanted to come by and say hi.” She shook her head and made her way over to the machine next to you. “How do you feel, love?” You nod, unable to talk. “Do you feel any pain? Just give me a thumbs up if you do.” You don’t and she puts the tablet down by your legs. “Okay, that’s good. I’m going to just quickly run a few tests and then I’ll be out of here.” She takes a pen out of her pockets and clicks it causing it to shine. “I’m going to point it towards your eyes and I need you to follow it, I know you’re sleepy waiting for your friend to come back but I want to make sure there’s no concussion. Is it okay if I touch your face a bit?” You nod and she proceeds to put a hand under your chin and with her other hand, brings the pen flashlight up to each eye. “Okay, follow the light.” You do as she says, almost enjoying the soft touch from her, the whispers, the light of the pen dilating your eyes making them even more tired. After she’s done with the eye exam she moves onto another test. “I’m going to move you a bit so I can check your breathing. Is that o-“ suddenly the window is opened from outside.

You both look towards the window and in comes in your knight in shining armour with a jersey in his hand. The nurse looks back at you, ignoring him as he closes the window shut and messily half shuts the curtains allowing the moonlight to be the only light source in the room besides the soft glow of the beeping machine next to you. It’s not dark though, it’s just oddly comforting.

“Okay, is it okay if I place my hands on your back and chest?” The nurse goes right back to her professional self as if the most famous hero didn’t just come in through the window. You like her.

“Yes.” You manage to say. She listens for your breathing and your heart beat.

“I think we can do more later on, I’ll let you sleep.” She turns to your guest who’s now made his way to the foot of your bed. “Reminder that we don’t allow family members or guests in the hospital floors after 8 pm. Sir, it is almost 1 am.”

Spider-Man shrugs.

“I just want to make sure she’s fine.”

She looks at him, then at you.

“Do you want him here?”

You nod.

“I won’t cause any problems.” He says as she picks up the tablet and walks out of the room, closing the door behind her quickly. “I like her.” You roll your eyes at him.

“Did you get it?” He walks up to you and holds up the jersey proudly.

“I did better than that, I got the stain out myself.” His voice is dry but it’s clear he was proud to show his work. Your eyes soften and you are taken aback by his action.

“Wow, thank you. I don’t know what to say.” He noticed you starting to reach your hands out so he places the shirt by you for you to inspect.

“Yeah well, thank you was more than enough.” He clears his throat as you grab the shirt and touch it, looking at it to see any imperfections left behind. “I know a bit about chemicals and whatnot so I did my best.” He sounded pretty cocky to you but he was genuinely trying to make it seem like it wasn’t anything to him which okay, maybe was pretty cocky of him.

“Wow, maybe I should hire you.” Your voice is flat.

“Hey so I never got your name and unfortunately the doctors and nurses didn’t want to tell me much about you or your condition since we aren’t related or married. Your nurse was kind enough to look the other way when I came by afterwards looking for you and even now she’s being kind.”

“My name is (Y/N). What’s yours?” Spider-Man starts to sit down next to you in your hospital bed. Your cheeks start to burn. Here you were, technically in bed with a superhero but you were wearing what appeared to be a medical gown which meant that your ass was probably out. You cringe mentally at the thought.

“Spider-Man or you can call me friend as the nurse keeps receding to me. YOUR friend that is.” He chuckles as he tries to not take up much space next to you but fails. You didn’t know what he was thinking by trying to squeeze his big hunky self into this tiny hospital bed with you. He quickly got off and instead sat by your feet. “I should probably let you sleep though. It’s really late and I wouldn’t feel okay with myself if I left you here alone awake anyways. I’ll be back tomorrow before you wake up.” Why was he allowing himself to get involved with you? Was it the fact that you basically insulted his ego earlier about how he didn’t actually help people like he thought since you went by unhelped and alone for so long before he took notice? It had actually weighed down on him heavily. Usually he wasn’t one to let things get to him personally because he wasn’t a teenager anymore much less a 20 something year old doing this for a few years. He has been at the superhero business for a long time now actually but it still bothered him that you thought so lowly of him. Yes, he did deserve it but why was he trying to go above and beyond to make you believe otherwise?

“Oh, you’re leaving?” He puts a hand on your shin and nods. “But you’ll be back? Why?” He feels annoyed now. Did you not want him to come back? Should he just fuck off and never return? But he kept his composure.

“Yeah, I doubt you have family members here who will pick you up from the hospital. It looked like you’re living at the dry cleaners so I want to make sure you’re good. You know, to make up for my lack of protection for all of New York’s citizens.” The last part came out a bit sarcastic but he didn’t care anymore.

“Oh.” You quietly say as you look away. “Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow then, Spider-Man.” He nods and gets up. He starts to make his way to the window when he decides to look back at you for a moment. A ghost like tear makes its way down the side of your cheek, translucent to the human eye but not to his. He wants to stay and comfort you strangely enough but he decides it’s better not. Just because he couldn’t save you before doesn’t mean he had to make it up to you. He had other responsibilities, many!

He opens the window quietly and swings out again.

Miguel feels lost in his head as he webs his way through the night between buildings. You had reopened a very old wound for him. When he first started off as Spider-Man, there was no one there for him. It felt like that city hated him at first for being such a nusciance to it. He messed up a lot. Like a lot. He would not help right the people at first, he didn’t know exactly how to train himself or limit himself with his new found strength. It was quite difficult. With time, he found himself doing better but again, it took time. And he overcame that part of his ice so many years ago, so why was he feeling like the lost dumb teenager he once was?

Miguel snarled almost in frustration and before webbing onto another building, he reach out with his claws and started to climb up further up. He clawed his way all the way to the top of the brick building, pieces coming off. He had to stop doing that, the city was bound to invoice him for the damages at some point. He shook his head as he quickly scaled further up. He finally stopped at the top and sat there.

A hand came up and ripped his mask off him, he angrily sighed as he crumpled up the mask in his hands. He leaned his head down and closed his eyes. There was no need for her to be so, so ungrateful! He felt the emotional turmoil in his chest, he could see behind his eyelids the electricity of his suit getting stronger.

“Calm down.” He lowly says to himself as he tries to take deeper breaths in. This wasn’t even his original dimension, he only came to the one because there was no Spider-Man in it. No one else wanted to do it because they were too busy which was his fault. He didn’t give any time to spare to the other Spider-Men in his group. Why would he? There was a teenager causing issues through the multiverse, how was he suppose to let anyone relax and take time off?

You woke up with a start. Anxiety filled you quickly, your breathing became labores, the machines around you started going off like crazy and the incessant buzzing triggered you worse.

A nurse came running in and immediately came over you.

“What’s wrong? You can’t breathe?” He quickly adjusts the bed to lay down as you look at him with panic eyes, your hands make their way to his and you hold his wrists, begging him to look at you. Where were you? What happened? He stops what he’s doing and the look in his eyes melts into understanding. “Oh, you’re here in the hospital.” He holds your hands in his and lifts them to his chest and gives you a squeeze. “You’re safe.” You start to relax, he starts to loudly breathe and you follow suite.

“I’m-im sorry,” your voice a mere whisper. He smiles softly at you and shakes his head.

“It’s okay. You’re safe here.” He turns around slightly to look around the room as if he were looking for someone. “Your friend left?”

“Who?” You close your eyes and shake your head slightly.

“Mr. Spider-Man?” You open your eyes and remember. He in fact did come back last night after you had cried. He didn’t make a noise but the window made a creek which woke you up but you didn’t move. But when did he leave? Had you fallen asleep again afterwards?

“I don’t know.” The nurse gave your hands a final squeeze and set them down onto your lap. He began to adjust your bed into a sitting position.

“You know, he’s like a runaway right now.” He quietly tells you, almost like he’s gossiping. “He is not allowed to be here at all, goes against all laws and hospital policies but he saved my dad when he suffered a heart attack, he brought him here just in time and it saved him. He’s a good friend to us all.” He smiles. You look at him and see just how happy he seems telling that story, as if it were the best thing in the world which it is, his dad is alive and well. But you can’t help but feel a bit of a childish envy crack in you. You couldn’t even look at the police because it was their job first to help and they never did. But Spider-Man? Whatever. You give him a small smile.

“I’m glad your dad is here with us still. But he’s not my friend. When can I go home?” The nurse raises his eyes brows.

“Today, later on in the afternoon. We just need to make sure you’re okay. It was a bit of a nasty hit to the back of your head.” He motions for you to lean forward and starts to remove the bandages. “It looks fine, no more bleeding. I’m going to apply new bandages okay? I’ll be back.” You nod as he walks out and closes the door behind him. However as he closes the door, you see your familiar so called friend standing there.

“Were you there behind the door this whole time?” He give a nod. “Okay, why did you hide?” Spider-Man starts to slowly make his way towards you, his tall built figure makes you almost shrink back into bed, he looks almost animal like the way he stalks over to you with his massive size.

“I didn’t hide.” He states coldly. “I merely let your nurse give you the attention you deserve.” His eye lenses on the mask slightly close as if he were squinting at you and crosses his arms. “Can’t be taking all the attention away from you, princess.” He lets out a deep chuckle.

“I guess not. You’re so kind.” The sarcasm in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by him as his fingers slightly twitch from your tone. Keep it together, he thinks to himself. “Look, can you just swing me out of here so I can go home and do what I need to do? I have a business to run, it’s my only livelihood and I promise a boy his jersey.” You starts to pull yourself up and move to get out of the bed. Within seconds with what seems to be inhumane speeds, Spider-Man is right next to you holding your legs in his hands. He turns his head to you.

“I can have my friend give it to him.” Why would you say that?! He thinks to himself angrily. “You take the day off, I’ll have him open shop for you so your clients can at least pick up their stuff.” Now who was he suppose to assign to this? It’s not like he could tell anyone to do it because then they would know he was doing something he wasn’t suppose to, the only person who knew was his assistant, Layla. And she was forbidden to come through when he was in this dimension.

Seems like his friend was going to have to be him.

“Why would you do that?” You pull your legs from out of his hands and move away to come off the bed on the other side. You finally stand up and immediately stretch. He watches you from behind, admiring how catlike you were during your stretches. Suddenly he sees a bit of skin peeking though from behind. “Like what you see?” He immediately looks away and you smile. You knew he was watching, not that it mattered.

“Because I’m your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, that’s why I would do that. Plus he kind of owes me.” He did in fact own himself this, he didn’t want to destroy yet another dimension but he quickly began to talk to occupy himself from thinking of the other one. “You know, if you really want to leave, you can right? No one is holding you here against your will.” It came out a bit harsher than he intended. You turn back to look at him over your shoulder and roll your eyes. What a dumb boy.

“Look, Spider-Man,” you turn to face him now. “You need to realise that it’s not usual for a man, idk who you are because I don’t know you, a strange man to be in another woman’s hospital room. I’m basically naked.” You start to tie the cords of the hospital gown tighter. However he doesn’t move or make any indication of it bothering him.

“If that’s how you feel, that’s your right. I’ll leave you alone and have my friend at your place soon. I still have your keys, but your clothes and other personal items are over there.” He jerks his head towards the direction of a table in the room where there’s a bag. “I’ll be on my way now. I’ll catch you around.”

“Do you even know my name?” He was in mid turn away from you when you asked which stopped him. He thinks for a second. “It’s (Y/N). Thank you for everything. I truly mean it.” He nods once and turns to the window, opening it. He begins to slid out when he stops again.

“The name of the guy who will be at your store is Miguel. He’s a friend.” And with that, Spider-Man leaps out.

(A.N., so my boyfriend is our beta reader, lmk if he caught all the grammar problems lol and this is my first fanfic so please be gentle with me. I just couldn’t find any fanfics that were story based off Miguel and I couldn’t help but make one, I just love that man and I love being hurt by love lol)

#miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara fanfiction

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jokeringcutio · 9 months

Note

helloo, hope this return means things are looking up <3

reader on a blind date with arthur fleck imagine ? it could happen by gary speaking to arthur during work and they'd get onto the topic of women and gary would suggest arthur going out with a female friend (reader) of his who is currently looking for someone. the reader then gets a bit concerned for arthur (his weight, illness, how little money he has and age gap between the two) and starts to stick around him to make sure he's alright. could end with smut or fluff, whichever you prefer. sorry if this is asking for a lot, you could take your time or ignore it if you think its too much! no pressure

Nothing's too much! ♥ Here's a little imagine I just wrote for you. Enjoy:

(Story under cut)

Reader's Gary's friend and Arthur's Blind Date Imagine

Fandom: Joker (2019)

Reader x Arthur Fleck

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Mention of age difference, medicine, health issues, worries, smut.

When Gary comes to him to tell him he knows this sweet girl, Arthur thinks his colleague is just teasing him. Why would anyone try and set him up with a date? No one had cared about him being lonely before, least of all his day-to-day colleagues. But Gary was different, it seemed. He was the only one at work who didn’t seem eager to joke about all of Arthur’s shortcomings. So when he told Arthur that he had a friend and that the two of you should definitely meet, he accepted.

The little café where you are to meet is small and cheap. But it has a pleasant décor and atmosphere. Arthur’s leg jitters nervously, and then you come inside. At first, he thinks you made a mistake, and he says so.

“Excuse me, miss, but this seat is taken.”

“I know,” you say, looking intently at the man you knew had to be your blind date. He looks cute, your type, you realize. Where had Gary been hiding this man all this time, you wondered? You try to sit down but Arthur stops you again.

“No, I mean, I am waiting for someone.”

“Mind it if I were to be that someone?”

Arthur is left dumbfounded for quite a few minutes, merely capable of blabbering apologizes as you sit down, and staring at you as if he can’t believe his eyes. “So you are my blind date?” he eventually asks. “Gary-?”

“Yes,” you confirm, taking away all his doubt and fears. “Gary is a good friend of mine.”

Arthur had been scared to hope that you could be there for him. Scared that he would be disappointed to find out that you were here to meet someone else, afraid of getting his hopes up. But the moment you say Gary is a good friend of yours, his fears quiet down and his shoulders sag as his body starts to relax.

His whole demeanor changes. He becomes more confident, all smiles. He talks like a proper man on a date, moves the coaster around the table as he speaks. His leg still jitters somewhat, but it is no longer due to fear. It is excitement.

His attention is fully upon you. His green eyes follow your face all the time. He takes you in, the way you smile, the little crinkles near your eyes, the small lines, the imperfections. It is all perfect to him.

Nightmares come true. Not dreams. So how can you be real then?

It’s near the end of the date when it is time to pay that you ask Arthur if he really had enough. He hardly drank and didn’t eat at all. You figure he is just being polite, but wonder if he enjoyed the time he had spent with you. Had he just been sticking around so as not to offend you? Would there be a second date? You worry, internally, until the bill comes and Arthur insists he shall pay for you.

You see the contents of his wallet. It is nearly empty.

With a gasp, you offer to pay for him, but he refuses no matter what you try, even gets offended for trying to take this away from him. So chivalry isn’t dead yet.

You tell him you admire him.

The date ends with the two of you walking down the promenade. Talking. Arthur smiles sweetly at you. He tells you not to worry about him, and the two of you set up another date.

You know he has been lying to you. That he doesn’t have the money he claims he has or a nice apartment of his own. Gary tells you all about him. A forty-year-something-old man still living with his deranged mom. Gary tells you about the medicines he saw Arthur take and of the card that describes his ailment. Of how he never eats during the job – too busy, he said. He always said that according to Gary. And Gary's worried about him. But also about you. Should you truly continue dating this man, he wonders?

Gary is worried, but you are even more so. Arthur is your dream man. It becomes quite clear to you rather quickly, and as such, you can’t let his situation go. You worry about him. You care about him.

During your second date, Arthur has fully emerged in a tale of his own devising when you suddenly interrupt him by placing a gentle hand on his wrist. He looks shaken, green eyes upon you questioningly.

All you do is whisper he doesn’t need to hide.

“Don’t pretend, sweetheart, I am here for you. The real you.”

A soft breath leaves his lips, stuttering, shaking.

Then he places his warm hand upon yours, hot palm lightly resting against your skin. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze. And then a smile tugs the corner of his lips. Just a tiny one, like a hidden gem.

He shows you his apartment after. You meet his mom and examine his empty fridge. Determination fills your being.

The next time you are invited to come over to his place, you take along some home-cooked meal which you share with Arthur and his mom. He is reluctant to eat, as he isn’t hungry, but under the scrutinizing eyes of his mom, he knows it is the only polite thing to do. And so he tastes it. That night. And the night after. And all the nights that follow when you visit him and bring another home-cooked meal. He can’t refuse them, so he won’t.

Now that you have gotten him to eat, you start helping him do some chores around his house. You help his mother dress, clean the rooms, get rid of some of the mess. You sort through his medicines and get rid of the ones that have passed their dates. You bring in flowers and different drinks for Arthur to taste. His life quickly becomes less bland.

He’s a different man at work. More confident. Less caring about what others think of him.

This lasts for several weeks until one of his colleagues remarks that you are too young for him. Then Arthur breaks down.

You meet Arthur at his house but find him a wreck. Things had been looking up lately, so to find him in a mood is a surprise to you. Even more so when you see how he is chain-smoking, and how he sent his mom to her chamber.

He then tries to send you away.

“They’re right. Why would you stick with an old man like me, anyway? I am no good, can’t do anything good. No money, not a stable mind. Did you come here only out of pity?”

When he says it, he looks up at you with watery green eyes and you can’t help it. Your hands are upon his cheeks within an instant, his lips pressed against yours. You taste the nicotine on his tongue and allow it to sweep through your mouth. He eats you, ravishes you, his lithe body presses firmly against you and you can feel how eager he is for you.

You take the initiative, show him the ropes. He is hot and hard and eager for it. Every taste is a reminder that it isn’t enough, and his lips hungrily seek out yours. You guide him inside but he sets the pace. You moan his name, but he paints you white and claims you as his.

In his arms you shudder with the last of your orgasm. Against his chest, you come down from your high.

And by his teasing nimble fingers, you are teased into another round until your body is clamping down on his cock, hard. He groans in your ear and bestows you with another round of his cum. His heavy sack empties for a second time after having been denied the release so often before. It is like heaven to him, and he can’t get enough.

And you let him. Because you enjoy it.

You love him.

Next time he appears at work and someone comments about you being too young or too pretty for him, he retreats into his mind and feels you there, around his shaft, pulsing. Too young, perhaps. Too pretty, definitely. But you’re willing and you want him.

No one will be able to take you away from him.

~ FIN ~

AN: Hope you enjoyed it. I'm ready to receive more prompts again as you can see.

#arthur fleck x reader #romance #feelgood #joker 2019 #anon answered #prompt fill #reader x arthur fleck #arthur fleck x you #joker 2019 x you #older man x younger woman

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drawingdroid · 6 months

Text

Melting Point: Prologue

A Sculptor Din Djarin x Art PhD Reader Series

Prologue: Malleable/The merchant

Summary: You're a first-year PhD at The University of Nevarro specialising in Mandalorian Art. When your favourite sculptor, the mysterious Mando, opens an art exhibition in the city, you're the first one to enrol. Unexpectedly, attending to that opening would end up changing your life forever.

Words: 1060

Warnings: This is a slow burn, you've been warned!; a lot of talking about Art and PhD life; Reader is not Grogu's nanny but this is very Grogucentric if that makes sense; And Reader is Din's employee too; Very grumpy and antisocial Mando; Grogu is human but the only thing described are his eyes; Reader appearance is left blank except from the outfits; Age gap of 10-15 years; Fluff fluff fluff

A/N: Hi tin can man lovers! I finally put my Arts degree to some use to write this. What can I say? I hope you enjoy this little AU!

“No.”

“Din, you have to come.”

Greef Karga was looking at the sculptor with his hands on his hips, visibly annoyed. He had been trying to convince him for an hour already, and Din hadn’t stopped welding the piece he was working on during the entire conversation.

“I hate those things.”

“Those things pay for your son’s food, school and therapy.”

Even though Din was wearing his welding mask, Karga knew a death stare when he saw it. At least, he had achieved getting the sculpture’s attention for once, even though it had been throwing a low hit. Karga huffed in tired indignation.

“I don’t even ask you to make a public appearance, you just drop by with Grogu like a regular visitor…” Din rolled his eyes behind the mask, although Karga couldn’t notice, and resumed with the soldering.

“What would attending to the opening change?” He asked after a while, his voice a bit hesitant. Karga thought he was finally cracking.

“You’re so far from your public, you should know what they think about you.”

“I read the articles on the papers.” Karga rubbed his face, exasperated.

“I mean real people, not only the art critics. The public loves you, Din. They love Mando.”

The sculptor stopped again and let the soldering gun rest in the anvil by the forge.

“They don’t know me.” His voice sounded less assured, more vulnerable now.

“But they think they do, and that’s what matters.”

“I don’t know Karga…” Din started fidgeting with his orange-fingered gloves, the sculpture finally forgotten.

“Look, all the mystery thing has been a great strategy until now, but the times change and people now like to feel close to their idols.” Din snickered, now looking at Karga in the eyes, mask still on.

“I don’t want to be anyone’s idol.”

“The thing is you already are.” A long silence followed and the Din sighed.

“If I agree to this, you’ll start asking me to give more and more.” Din had caught him. That was Karga’s strategy, and he couldn’t deny it. He’d want the sculptor to engage more with the world, of course. Maybe even granting interviews one day. That would make wonders to his career. And to Greef’s wallet.

“Contemporary artists have to engage with the public Din, be present on social media…” The sculptor grunted, very displeased.

“You want me to become an influencer.” Karga let out a burst of laughter, not expecting Din to even know the neologism. But the artist was dead serious and he was lifting a brow under the welding mask in exasperation.

“Not at all, I just want you to become a little more approachable, more…human,” Karga said when he finally recuperated from the belly laughing.

“You’ve been years playing the mystery card in my marketing. Why now?” Din was pretty comfortable to be the anonymous artist under the pseudonym, it fitted his nature as he was severely uncomfortable with fame. And to be honest, with human relationships in general.

“Look, in the times of AI art, people are looking more a more after the person behind the art, it’s just…natural” Din tilted his head, not at all convinced by the argument.

“Look me on my face and tell me this is not because every time gossip about me leaks you sell 10 times more.” Karga swallowed and a sheer sheet of sweat covered his forehead. He shrugged, defeated and having no more energy for this discussion.

“Who doesn’t love a fistful of shiny credits?”

Din lifted his welding mask and slid his gloved hand across his face. Under his expressive eyes, deep dark circles rested, and his salt-and-pepper facial hair looked more unkempt than ever.

“I’ll think about it,” he said finally, and Karga’s smile went wide and bright.

“Thank you Mando, I knew you were a reasonable man.” Then he palmed the sculptor’s shoulder in a friendly demeanour. Din looked at him sceptical while he started cleaning and putting away his tools. The headache this conversation had provoked had him wanting to wrap it up early today. He nodded and it was clear the conversation was over.

“I’ll say goodbye to Grogu one on my way out if you don’t mind.” Din nodded again, the exhaustion making him less and less prone to words. He just wanted Karga out of his hair, but the thing was that he knew how much the boy loved the older man, and he wouldn’t be the one denying his son that joy because he was exasperated with his agent.

“Send him here when you leave.”

Din had been cleaning up the mess for a while when heard the main door of the studio closing, and immediately after a familiar pair of eyes stuck out of the doorframe of the patio.

“Ah?” The toddler ran clumsily towards Din, who bent to his level to reach for him.

“Hi buddy, did you have fun in the garden?” The little one squeaked in delight while Din picked him up. That happy sound probably meant the frogs in the pond had trouble today. Din laughed softly, forgetting all his preoccupations. The instant Grogu was lifted, his little hands were occupied with removing his dad’s welding mask. “You don’t like this, uh?”

Din then discarded the mask and put it apart, and the next second the toddler had his dirty hands all over his face. The little one was always mesmerized by his moustache and nose especially and traced them in awe. Din couldn’t stop smiling, the little fingers made his skin tickle and the interest of the boy in his face was amusing.

“Let’s get those little claws cleaned and have dinner, shall we?” Grogu cooed, always excited by the prospect of food, and both of them spent the rest of the afternoon cooking together, which meant Grogu trying to eat all the eggs raw and asking Din to put blue colourant inside the broth. When Grogu’s little belly was full enough it meant he would be sleepy soon. They had been playing on the sofa Din had in the studio, and the toddler was now snoring softly over Din’s chest. The sculptor took advantage of the quiet to think about Karga’s idea. If more exposure meant more moments like this with the womp-rat… Dank Farrik, It was worth it. Everything was worthy for the little one.

Next Chapter

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din grogu #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #modern din djarin #modern au din djarin #clan of two #clan of three #din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin x female reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #pedro boys #pedro pascal fanfiction

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ao719 · 9 months

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Thank you for the tag @kristinamae093 💕 I haven’t done one of these in a long time, but I’ve been slacking lately with writing and am hoping this will give me some ✨motivational juju✨

Chapter 18 of Vancross:

When the SUV pulled away from the curb and into the heavy city traffic, the back door of the parked town car flung open, and a pair of booted heels hit the pavement. A woman stood and made her way inside the hotel. Once in the lobby, she spotted a suited man waiting near the elevator, just where she was told he’d be; she approached with a tentative smile. “I take it you’re Jonas?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the guard nodded. “If you’ll follow me,” he gestured to the elevator.

Once inside the car, she watched the guard hit the button to the penthouse. As they ascended to the top floor, she glanced over at the man. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Good things I hope?” Jonas smiled.

“Of course,” she nodded. “I know he wouldn’t trust just anyone with what he’s asked of you.”

“I can say the same for you and what he’s asking now,” Jonas replied, referring to the reason she had come there. The woman offered a subtle smile just as the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. “Follow me.”

•••••••

Chapter 17 of Best Kept Secrets:

Liam cleared his throat and finally broke the silence. “Hi,” he said quietly.

“Hi …” Amara’s voice came out slightly cracked and just above a whisper.

“May I come in?” Liam asked.

Amara bit her lip to keep it from trembling as she slowly nodded and stepped aside. Once he was through the threshold, she softly shut the door; her palm rested against the wood as she closed her eyes, trying to rein in her emotions, but she was failing.

Liam paused at the entryway into the living and kitchen area to wait for her; he glanced over to see her back still to him and her head slightly bowed. “Amara?” She stiffened at the sound of her name from his lips before lifting her head; he watched her raise her hand to her face, seemingly wiping more tears from her cheeks as she let out a breath.

Amara turned, not meeting his eyes as she gestured for him to go ahead.

•••••••

…Sometimes Not (Part 10):

Reyna disappeared down the hall, leaving him flustered on the sofa. As he muddled through the thoughts filling his head, a knock came on the door.

“I’ll get it,” Liam called out, assuming it was the pizza she’d ordered. He rose from the sofa and pulled his wallet from his back pocket, opening it up and fanning through the cash inside; he slipped his thumb between the bills to hold his place as he opened the door.

Liam froze when he saw Luca standing on the other side … holding a bouquet of roses.

•••••••

A little something I’ve had in the back of my head for months … I’m not sure what I’m doing with it yet, if anything at all, but after replaying Guinevere recently, the idea popped back up and I couldn’t stop thinking about it and had to start writing it down:

After changing into the simple linen dress she’d washed in the stream the day before, Guinevere stepped outside; she peered up at the morning sky through the canopy of trees above the hovel she called home. It was a far cry from the palace she’d grown up in and the wonders of Camelot where she was supposed to live out her days at Arthur’s side, but she was hidden and safe there.

“Morning.”

Guinevere turned toward the sound of the voice, offering her companion — her savior — a faint smile. “Good morning, Morgana.”

Morgana took in her pale complexion and the uneasy expression she was trying to hide. “It happened again …”

Guinevere’s smile faded and she nodded slowly.

•••••••

Whatcha working on (no pressure): @charlotteg234 @queenrileyrose @tessa-liam @sfb123 @dcbbw and anyone else that wants to share some snippets 💕

#wip wednesday #wips #current wips

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walkitoffrogers · 10 months

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muse: Steve Rogers limit: 18+ only please, mutuals and non-mutuals set: post-Loki, TFATWS S1E6 open to: Canon MCU/Marvel muses, OCs or fandom crossovers welcome if we've plotted/interacted before (i.e., limited to people he would know, please. New connections welcome in my other Steve starter!) triggers: showers of bitterness over Endgame!Steve and the TVA, may progress to thunderstorms as the barometric angst increases

Steve had a lot of time to mull over his mistakes while he was with the Time Variance Authority. In hindsight, time travel was a mistake. His motivation was clear, but the attempt, he realized, was misguided. He couldn’t knowingly let Bucky be captured by Hydra, or leave Natasha at the nonexistent mercy of The Red Room, or let Thanos snap away half a universe if there was even half a chance he could stop those things from ever happening. Even knowing they were long shots didn’t change his mind. Steve had never been intimidated by long odds.

But as it turned out, the Time Variance Authority didn’t just let people meddle in timelines. It didn’t matter how good his intentions had been when he went back. The Avengers, apparently, were on thin ice with them already. It was always Steve's plan to return to his own time when he was finished. He had people who needed him there, and from what he understood, changing the past created new timelines rather than changing the future. (To be fair, he'd only understood a fraction of Scott, Bruce, and Tony's conversation on it. The mechanics of time travel were well above his paygrade.)

It had taken time to learn the place and its routines, time to figure out a plan. Steve always had a plan, and it didn’t involve sitting in jail for the rest of his life, being retconned from his own timeline, or playing along indefinitely with what was obviously a fascist organization. He'd gone along with Morbius's requests at first to buy himself some time to figure this place out, and every variant's life they destroyed added to the seething anger in him. He didn't know what the ultimate end goal of the place was, or why they considered it a sacred duty to protect the timeline, but Steve did know that people in power almost always thought they were doing good and that they rarely wanted to give it up.

The plan did, unfortunately, involve a time and space jumping god of mischief who also needed to escape. Long story short, Steve hadn't been sorry to help Loki tear the place down, and now he may or may not owe a favor to the trickster Asgardian. As far as he could tell, Steve landed in the same place as when he’d left, but it was immediately obvious that it wasn’t the same time. Nobody was there, for one thing, and the season had changed. He lowered his head and, quietly but with feeling, uttered a word he almost never said.

How much time had passed? If he was lucky, it was the same number of days that had passed while he was with the TVA, which would put him at around four months. He tried not to wince at the idea of leaving Bucky and the others wondering where he was in all that time and why he hadn’t returned. He hated to think what that had done to his friends on the heels of the Battle of Earth and its losses. He didn’t know yet that the TVA had strategies in place to keep anyone from even looking for him. Steve kept his head down on the walk home and tried not to draw attention to himself. He didn’t have keys or a wallet or a phone or even shoes, for that matter, so his apartment was his best idea. If it was even still his apartment.

The door was locked, the spare key not in its usual place, so after a quick, silent apology, he broke the lock and stepped inside with the hope that he wasn’t breaking into someone else’s home. It was a relief to see it was mostly as he’d left it, though it was clear someone had been there. He wondered if that person was Bucky. What he wanted more than anything right now was to talk to his best friend, to hear his voice and know he was fine. He briefly scoured the place for his phone and came up empty. He hadn’t had it on him when he went to return the stones, and it wasn’t where he’d left it. He dug out one of the burners from the emergency stuff and plugged it in to charge. Two years of being on the run and being friends with Natasha had left him slightly paranoid but prepared. He could disappear again if he had to, but with as hard as he’d worked to get back here, he hoped he didn’t have to.

Weariness insisted he sit down for a few minutes while he came up with a plan, so he grabbed a tablet off the desk and sank onto the couch to scroll through the recent news feed for information about what he’d missed. The date registered, roughly matching with what he’d expected, and sadness mingled with frustration and relief that it hadn’t been longer. He never wanted to be in another spaceship or another timeline, ever. Some lessons came harder to him than others, but he considered that one learned. The hard way, because apparently that was the only way he knew how to do it, but learned. He didn’t mean to fall asleep, and he jerked awake when the tablet pinged an alert to find that night had fallen. His head was clearer though, and he quickly scanned the update before rising to change his clothes. He pulled on a jacket and as an afterthought grabbed a baseball cap. He wasn’t planning to interfere, and he didn’t want to be noticed. Not tonight when all eyes should be on Captain America.

He did want to be there to see it though. He tucked the phone into his pocket and headed further into the city. There were already crowds of people forming along with the general chaos of news vans and police cars, and it was easy to fade in among them, just one in a faceless crowd. He couldn’t help a smile as he watched Sam’s speech from a distance, pride filling him for both his friends. He’d always known Bucky was a hero; now everyone did, and passing the shield along to Sam before he left, at least, had been the right move. He’d never had a doubt about that. He’d find a way to give his congratulations later though. Tonight wasn’t about him, and he wasn’t going to intrude on the victory. If Steve was lucky, it would never be about him again. He drifted to the edge of the crowd, glancing back once more before he turned and headed for home.

#open starter #mcu rp #indie mcu rp #alt!tfatws #no need to match #idk if this is really a starter #or just a long one-shot intro into this verse #but i just love the idea of him being there for that #feel free to come plot things with me in it #bio

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burnwater13 · 2 months

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Mandalorian, Din Djarin, stands in a room filled with meat (heads) hanging from hooks, with the Darksaber ignited and held in his right hand. Bodies of people are strewn on the floor. Image from The Book of Boba Fett, Episode 5, Return of the Mandalorian. Concept Art by Brain Matyas. Calendar from DataWorks.

Din Djarin had pretended that nothing special had happened while Grogu was away at Luke’s Jedi Sleep Away Camp. Since Grogu had no reason not to believe the Mandalorian, he let it go. Their reunion had been exciting enough and, what with one thing and another, he hadn’t asked the bounty hunter or anyone else what he’d actually done during that time.

Of course that all changed when Grogu agreed to go to the Mos Eisley Food Fair with Peli Motto. His dad had agreed to let Grogu attend the event with Peli, knowing how much they both liked foods, especially foods that no one else would eat, even on a bet. The Mandalorian was going to stay at the garage and work on the N-1. That ship always needed something done to it. It was no where near as resilient as the old Razor Crest had been.

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry ‘bout that kid. I tried to find him one of those old rust buckets, but a lot of them are out of service. Seems like the New Republic is cracking down on ‘em for some reason. Probably yer dad’s fault. Now that Naboo starfighter is a beautiful ship, if a little finicky, but anything this of beauty has the right to be that way. Why I was just tellin’ Majordomo…”

That’s when Grogu tuned Peli out. He’d learned that as soon as she brought up the Twi’lek who worked for Fennec and Boba that she wasn’t going to stop talking about him until he showed up for their next date. Unfortunately, Grogu knew that next date wasn’t taking place for at least two more days. Uff. He was going to hear a lot of stuff about what makes for a good partner that he was sure he was way too young to learn and probably would be his whole life.

He turned his thoughts away from his companion and began to wonder what the best and most interesting foods were at the festival. Frankly, he was somewhat surprised that he hadn’t been asked to be a judge for the event. No one on Tatooine had as diverse a diet as Grogu.

They entered the queue to access the fair grounds and Grogu continued to ignore Peli and focus on the food as they crept forward slowly. He had to admit that he was a bit surprised that she was taking the slow pace of the line well. Usually she bustled ahead of folks, explaining that she was joining another group, was visiting the event organizers, was one of the event organizers and the like in a continuous stream of words that made Grogu wonder how she managed to say so much without passing out.

“It’s all in the rhythm, Kid. Breathe in, talk, breathe out as you talk, breathe in as you talk. I learned it from my old man. Ha! That man could talk ya outta yer own wallet!” At least that’s what she told him the first time he marveled at her super power.

But she wasn’t doing any of that kind of talking while they waited in that line. Instead she had managed to reach a point of describing the people she had bought the N-1 from, knowing that they had no idea what they had and therefore didn’t know it’s value which was just what she liked. Opportunity. Sweet, delicious credit filled opportunity.

“And yer dad almost spoiled it all insisting that he needed something more practical. Can’t imagine why that mattered. Not like he was ever bringin’ anyone in warm. That scar on his leg came from goin’ after that Klatooinian, what’s ‘is name. I guess usin’ that Jedi toy he got isn’t as easy as it looks. Any how, he followed my advice, which is always good advice and you two lucked into that N-1.”

What!

Grogu tugged on Peli’s leg coverings to get her attention as she launched right into a detailed description of the N-1’s engine control system and all the tweaks she had implemented.

“Huh? Whaddaya want kid?”

Grogu coo’d and grumbled his question at her. He knew he couldn’t trust himself to use any Gal Basic to ask his question he was so surprised.

“Whaddaya mean he didn’t tell ‘ya ‘bout it? Uff. Mandos, every one of ‘em filled to the brim with stories and an absolute aversion to sharin’ them.” Peli pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Are ya sure ya wanna hear ‘bout it from me? I don’t have that kind of time kid, if we’re gonna eat our credits’ worth here.” Peli pointed toward the rapidly filling fairgrounds.

Grogu really wanted to scold her about finding the food more important than the story, but considering how often he did that to absolutely everyone else, he put up with it. He pointed to the entrance and sighed.

“Okay, okay. I can see that y’er itchin’ to hear the rest.” Peli dropped her voice down to an almost whisper. “Now, I can’t vouch for all the details. I didn’t go there with him. But I did see that patch on his outer layer and mentioned that if he needed a tailor I knew a good one. He got all crabby with me, nothing new there, and said that if he wanted a tailor he’d bring one in warm. I gotta tell ya kid, I laughed out loud at that. Anyhow, he said it happened when he brought Kaba Baiz in cold. Like ‘head in a bag’ cold. Uff. Glad he didn’t bring that thing back with him. Klatooinian blood is hard to get out of everything. I once dated a Klatooinian…”

Peli stopped talking as soon as Grogu yelped like he’d been stepped on. He hadn’t, but he didn’t want to hear anything about dating Klatooinians. Uff.

“Dank Farrik! Will ya watch where yer walkin’? The kid is delicate and I’m not explainin’ any marks or dents on ‘em. You can explain it to his dad, the Mandalorian.” Peli barked at the stocky person standing just in front of them.

Grogu tried not to giggle as they watched the man quickly leave the line, looking all around for Grogu’s dad.

“I gotta remember to do that more often. Any how… where was I? Oh. Right. Apparently, in order to put together enough credits for the N-1, your dad went back to bounty hunting and collected a real bad actor named Kaba Baiz and he used that crazy Jedi sword to do it. Never could understand why Jedi used ‘em. Nothin’ but trouble. Any how, if you were thinking that delivering a head in a bag was bad, another one of those Klatooinians wasn’t that lucky. Now, that better be enough because I don’t want to ruin my appetite. Have your dad tell you about it. Frankly, I think he was missing you a lot and just wasn’t dealing with it well, but don’t tell him I said that. I don’t want to see him cry again like the last time I said anything about it. Hey! Here we are. Come one let’s eat!”

Apparently the person Peli had threatened told folks to let them through or a Mandalorian would be coming after them. The crowd had been happy to part and let the two of them cut through the line like a lightsaber. Grogu guessed that the rest of them had heard Peli’s story already and didn’t want to wind up cold or in a bag. He supposed that made sense, but he could have told them that he’d never known his dad to carry any bag with him since Grogu returned to Tatooine. Grogu had wondered why, but he was pretty sure he understood it now. Somethings did not need to be reused or recycled.

#calendar prompt a day #din djarin #the mandalorian #grogu #the book of boba fett

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