#what we not going to do is hate on my boys | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

muchlovekatia · 2 days

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✧ ˚ · . "𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔." — theodore nott

. . theodore nott x

reader ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

SYNOPSIS: you are a good friend. it is just a favor that you need. if only theodore weren't so uncooperative.

⋆·˚ ༘ * 🫐

warnings! :

smut!! ,, mdni ,, oral sex ,, fingering dead dove don't eat ,, swearing .

"do you think it would work.. if i touched her like this?"

.ೃ࿐ 🎞️

〰️

THEODORE NOTT'S dormitory smells of cigarette smoke and light citrus. the scent he wears on his clothes, his skin, his gaze, his breath, as you've always observed. it's the first thing you notice when you invite yourself in without bothering to knock, without even pausing outside of his door, the first thing that has never failed to make you question whether you truly hate him or not.

but the boy sitting at his desk chair, toying with a pen that he lightly touches to his lip, reminds you just why you do. theodore's back is to you, therefore you cannot actually see him, his long legs spread and his eyes directed out the slightly-open window. he quickly looks to the door at the first creak in it's swing, quickly relaxes when he realizes it's you. but you are just as tense as you were walking up. he wears a navy blue shirt, buttons at the top undone, face contorting from question, to neutrality. slightly unfazed, he turns back to the window. "change your mind about that offer, l/n?" the offer was a quickie. yes, this is why you hate him.

keeping your face void of emotion even in your state of mixed annoyance and trepidation, you clear your throat, walking fully in and shutting the door lightly behind you, but staying shy against it still. you are hesitating to say the words. to stall would be to show your utter nervousness, but you also can't just dive into the topic all together, right? at the same time, you know what you need to do. if it's to be a good friend, you will face the reprimand, the teasing. "that will remain a no, nott."

you hear him huff a small laugh, the clicking of his pen against his desk pausing for a few moments, before he swivels his turning chair and faces you. like some king on a throne, addressing a peasant. you keep your irritation at a minimum, making sure you look just as cool and collected as he does. "well? are you going to tell me why you're here, then? i was under the impression you hated me. showing up at my dorm says otherwise."

he holds a look of mischief on his face you want so badly to slap right off. instead, you dig your nails into the meat of your palms, inhale. "trust me, this is the last thing i want. but.."

his brows raise.

"i... i'm here—" stuttering. big no, "—because.. i am in need.. of something... rather specific."

"are you?" his lips quirk up into the grin you know oh so well. "you have me intrigued."

don't shift. don't breathe. don't move. you have the authority here. right? don't you? force the words out, if worst comes to worst, even when your brain is screaming at you to run, even when you know what this will come to. "i need.. a favor, if you may." this has that stupid grin spreading even more, a huffed laugh escaping his lips. you grit your teeth. no, this is you being a good person. don't get mad. "my friend... she seems to have taken a.. liking to you. alexia. the blonde one. i'm sure you know her."

"has she?" he says humorously, tilting his head slightly back. and fuck, you just shifted. focus on the citrus.

"don't act oblivious to it, nott. i think we both know—"

"choose your words carefully, l/n. you want my help, don't you?"

yes, you do. automatically, your mouth closes. maybe he's the one with the authority here. the spread of his legs, the way he loosely holds his arms, the smile on his lips says so anyway.

swallowing and pausing a moment, you make yourself calm down before starting up again. "she.. hasn't told me explicitly, of course. but as her friend, i'm obligated to know these sorts of things. so i know she at least.. likes you. a little. so, i think it would do you both quite well if you gave her what she wants."

theodore, of course plays the role of oblivious so well. he looks more engaged by the syllable you form, more convinced with each breath you take. to you, he looks his usual self. "and what might that be?"

how annoying can he get? you bite the inside of your cheek, shifting on your feet. "i don't know. maybe.. show a bit of interest in her yourself? or even just... smile at her? compliment her? anything that doesn't involve mocking her to get back at me right in front of her." yes, he'd approached you and her a week before, and already, you knew something would go down. laughing at her for screwing up her potion in class, though? that wasn't what you expected at all. you were witness to the look of utter devastation on her face immediately after. "i think it would be in both of your best interests to just give her what she wants."

nott's brows raise slightly. he tilts his head to the side—such a small gesture, but speaking such measures—and leans forward, pen still in his hand, resting his elbows on his knees. "us both?"

and if you weren't nervous then, you are now. the topic... of sex.. or, rather, romantic intentions... with your enemy? it has your legs itching to run far far far from this room, has your hands begging to fidget and twist and turn. but no, you keep them steady, look at him with those cool eyes. "it's no secret, nott, your body count. at least, the girls you fuck don't keep it one."

now, he has the audacity to smile. his lips pull over his teeth in a full blown grin, and he runs his tongue over them, so perfectly handsome in the incandescent glow of his lamp. your thighs squeeze together unintentionally.

"ah, yes. i suppose you're right." he leans back again, lifting his pen back to his lip. "okay, in that case, that task doesn't seem that bad.. but.." he pauses. for effects, you assume, "i wonder.. how should this concern me, if you hate me as much as you claim?"

and he has a point.

theodore is amused by your jitteriness, you know, having to even dabble in the romance topic with him, your enemy, and for some reason, it's not making you angry. but you don't want to discuss that, even. it is not helping your case at all. "look, i ask of you this small favor, just once. you don't even have to like her, go out with her.. if you could just— be nice, at least? for merlin's sake, you made fun of her clumsiness right in front of her just to get on my nerves last week. you know how much she likes you, theodore." you exhale deeply. "so just give her what you both want. for me."

this seems to amuse him further. nott sure does like to toy with you. he stares at you a moment. "is that a command?"

you inhale sharply, tensing. "no."

theodore squints his eyes slightly at you, his head cocking to the right. "mhm.. and if i... help you... do i get something in return?"

oh lord. you grit your teeth. "of course not. i am not going to pay you to lead my friend on. if you are going to do it, if you are going to be kind, you need to want to. that's the whole point. know, though, if you keep up the teasing act around her, or to her, i swear on all that is good that i will never speak to you again. not even to yell or shout or fight you. you'll just look stupid, following after me, mocking me, knowing you won't get an answer."

his lips part into a more toothy smile, and he breathes a short laugh. "not a command. a threat."

confidence restored, you straighten and push back your shoulders, pride gleaming in your eyes. the last thing you expect is theodore drawing himself out of his seat, into a stand, and staying by the desk. "well, surely, i don't want that, do i?" he quips, shaking his head. "to look stupid?"

when he takes a step forward, you feel everything in you halt. your blood, your heart, your thoughts..

"okay, so say i did help you. you think this would work? this.. flirting? you think i'll sympathize with your case just this once, don't you, y/n?" he's drawing nearer. with each step, you feel your skin tighten around your body more and more. "so tell me, what could i do to help, hm? what could you possibly want me to do with your dear friend, y/n? touch her? kiss her, maybe? fuck her? is that what you want from me?" you refuse to budge. well, your body refuses, paralyzed with fear and trepidation.

your stomach is twisting and turning, and the evidence of your nerves are shown through the red on your cheeks. everything in you tells you to run as he stops a few inches before you, reaching out and skimming his knuckles across your arm. your skin ignites beneath his touch, butterflies dancing merrily in your stomach. "would this work, y/n? touching her like this?" he asks, his eyes rising from his hand, to your own.

in your hazy, slightly horrified state, you stammer out, "probably." the last jab at him using the last of your confidence. your cool demeanor is completely gone now. "whatever you usually do works— works a charm."

your whole body is alert yet relaxed at the same time, sick, horrendous desire coursing coursing coursing through you. theodore voices a short chuckle, and in his proximity, you feel it fan out across your face. the smell of cigarette smoke rides his tongue. "oh, but i'm sure you know exactly what this.. alexia would want from me. at least give me the benefit of your advice.."

now, his hand rises to your face, fingers brushing against skin so sweetly it would pass as the caress of a lover. but nott is no romantic. this is horrible, twisted lust. not attraction. surely, right? "tell me, y/n. is this how i should handle her? so gently? should i look into her eyes as i do you? should i hold her face in the way i hold yours?"

your throat is constricting and contracting, heat is gathering in the spots of flesh he grazes with his nimble fingers. you are utterly ruined, unraveled, ravished before him, but there is still some left of you. could he undo the rest? "i don't know," you somehow manage to choke out, eyes darting to his lips, because as you speak, his dart to yours. there is something wrong with your voice. it's high, and pitchy, and so obviously laced with want you don't know how you're holding up. theodore seems to be thinking the same thing.

he does not care.

he leans in, down, his hand slipping to your ear and tucking away your hair, and his lips press oh so benignly to your lobe, that you almost don't feel it at all. you do feel the words he says next though. they are life and death and reincarnation against your skin. "do you think it would work.." he kisses you there again. "...if i touched her like this? do you think it would seduce her?"

all of you is alight. yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes. yes. it would. because it's working right now. "theodore," you say strictly, almost pulling away. you can't. you don't want to.

"y/n. give me an answer."

and is this how all the woman he beds feels? in the moments leading up to the shedding of clothing? do they also feel this alive, but also so dead? and even the thought of the other girls he's fucked cannot stop you from wanting this want to because something more. you can't remember to hate him, even when it's so obviously there in your mind. your desire is blaring brighter and stronger. it is much more tempting. it always has been, hasn't it?

"if i touched her like i touch you, do you think she'd like it?"

so you say what you know you shouldn't. "yes."

and what a word. what a fucking word. because it is one syllable, and three letters, and it doesn't even mean a lot at all. but it is what has theodore pulling away from the whispers of your hair, staring into your eyes like you just harnessed the stars and offered it up as a christmas present. it is what, in mere seconds, has his lips on yours, and his body against your own, and his hands shoved into your hair, and your back against the door.

your body moves on command. theodore's mouth is soft, supple, but he uses it in such a harsh way. this. this this this this this.

his hands roam everywhere all at once, as if they can't feel enough of you. they skim your waist, up your torso, fly to your jaw... there is a slight furrow in his brow. you are his muse. you are the concentration of his force.

and his tongue is prodding your lips, and prying open your mouth, and exploring exploring exploring exploring. fuck you're wet. have you ever been this damn wet? heat is pooling in your core, aching to be touched by the same fingers he's used to mock you. you're moaning into his mouth, muffled by his sweet movements, and the door you're pressed against is no match for his intensity.

"theodore..." you sigh when he pulls away, hastily admiring the mess he's made of your lipgloss. he tilts his head and licks the remnants off, and it's the hottest fucking thing you've ever experienced. you can't help but move yourself against him in your desire.

at that, he lets out a low groan, throwing his head slightly back. "fuc— tell me again— what you always say. say— it again," he whispers breathily, his words short and stammered.

brow furrowed and eyes closed, you don't even think to try and guess. "w— what?"

"that you hate me." his voice is perfectly hoarse. "tell me that you hate me again."

you're pulled slightly from your pleasure, forcing your gaze on him. god, he's so beautiful, your lip product smudged on his face, his hair mussed. when has he ever been this beautiful? or has he always been? why have you never really noticed? he's kissing your neck, your jaw, sucking at your skin, and you say the words with such disregard, but such intensity, you know they aren't real. "i hate you."

and he's kissing your lips again. harder. harder and harder. so fucking hard, you're scared your lips and tongue will be bruised by the morning. "i hate you i hate you i hate you i hate you—" you repeat over and over again into his hair as he nips and licks, hands tangled in his hair, as if reciting a spell, a mockery of the school work long forgotten. he makes a sound like a grunt, and suddenly, he's pulling you off the door by the waist and pushing you onto his bed, crawling over you, his lips never once leaving your body. "i hate you so much, it's all i can think about sometimes."

and his grip on your hips tighten until it's painful in that sick, pleasurable way. then, he's kissing down your jaw, sucking and nipping the whole way, like he can't get enough. because he can't. your hands find themselves in his hair, pulling, tangling, squeezing, as you moan out into the warm, citrusy air. "this is a bad idea..." his lips end up on your collarbone, biting into the bone. you arch your back into his touch, wanting more.

"i know." his hand trails down your torso, then under your tank top, feeling the cloth of your bra underneath. and his voice is so raspy and breathy, you question if you ever truly hated him at all, like you always liked to say you do. this doesn't feel much like hate. this doesn't even feel like dislike. "fuck, y/n."

and it's all too fucking much. "theodore— fu— please.."

he's running his hands along the plains of your breasts through your bra, and it's everything all at once. he looks up at you with those dead eyes, studies your face. "yea? you want this? you want my cock?" and he presses a kiss to your collarbone.

when your only answer is a moan, though, he's leaning back up to your face and retracting his touch from beneath your shirt, grabbing your jaw and forcing your eyes on his. his thumb presses against your lips, forcing your mouth open, and hooking on your teeth. "use your words, y/n."

in your haze, you nod at the same time you breathe, "yes, please, theodore. want it— s— so bad.."

at that, he's smiling, straightening, pushing your shirt over your head and throwing it who knows where. he leans back into a kneel to admire your breasts, before sinking back down and trailing sloppy kisses from your neck, to the hem of your bra. you mewl and whimper, hands gripping his hair, as his hand explores, sinking to the clasp and quickly undoing it. when he's pulled off the skimpy cloth, he wastes no time latching his lips to the peaked bud of your nipple, licking and nipping gently. you arch your breasts into his face, crying out as a new wave of pleasure hits. his hand gently travels to your other boob and pinches your nipple, palming the soft flesh.

"so fucking beautiful—" he whispers softly, pulling back to admire you again. with your head thrown back and your brows furrowed, such a look of pure desire twisted into your face, you might just be the most beautiful thing on earth. he can't help but lean forward and kiss you messily again. "god, y/n."

and you can't remember a time where your name on his tongue was anything close to annoying or irritating. he pulls away. "fuck me, theo—" you stammer out, looking at him with such lust, voice almost like a whine, and perhaps it's the nickname, that has him halting slightly, that has him hovering silently over you, searching your eyes, like he might need to hear the words again to confirm, before reaching down and quickly unbuttoning your pants, shoving his hand inside without even bothering to pull them down a bit. either way, you're not complaining. you throw your head back when his finger circles your clit through your panties, pressing ever so slightly yet eliciting moan after moan from you.

"so wet.. you're fucking soaking. is all this for me, baby?" he whispers, watching your face as his fingers toy and play, pulling the fabric aside and teasing teasing teasing. you buck against his hand, desperate for pleasure.

"y— yes! mhmm— fuck—" you choke out, nodding your head rapidly and stupidly along. a smile ghosts across his lips, and the look on his face—if you could see it—would tell you he's feeling like the luckiest man alive. he looks down at where his hand is touching you, retracting it and studying the glistening liquid on his fingers.

"shit," you hear him utter, forcing your eyes to where he's assessing, and the sight has you mewling for more. when his gaze meets yours, he looks utterly lost in desire. "you're driving me crazy, l/n." he drops his hand to the hem of your pants, stare still fixated on your eyes, and drags your jeans and panties down down down your legs.

watching it feels like reading a poem. you throw your head back as cold air hits your soaking pussy, whining shamefully. but his eyes are still on yours, watching, as his finger lightly begins tracing the line of your slit. a gasp, your body tensing. the "theo.." that falls from your lips has him growing harder than he's ever been, and yet, he quietly just teases your entrance, running his digit up and down until you're begging, clenching around open air.

"please, theo.." you plead, meeting his eyes. they look up at you from between your legs, and it is a sight that could make you release then and there. you squirm, a mewl leaving your lips.

and that is his cue. he shoves two fingers inside you without warning, curling them and pumping then in and out of your soaking pussy faster than your brain can comprehend what's happening, while his thumb traces your slit. you choke on a moan, your back beaming off the bed, your mouth falling open. "shit—! theo— oh god—!"

his fingers working at you, theodore gives a curse, studying your pretty pussy. "so tight.. how m'i gonna fit, hm?" he mutters to himself, looking back at you and almost bucking against the bed at the sight. damn, you're so fucking beautiful. he leans back up, kissing and biting down your body as his fingers abuse your cervix. your slick wets his hand, running down his palm, and you moan and mewl and beg, breathing heavily, while he murmurs and blows against your skin.

"i know, i know, baby," he whispers into your neck, trailing sloppy bites over your body until he meets your clit. he retracts his finger, and you whine desperately, thinking he's teasing you, but then, his tongue is licking a stripe up your pussy and his thumb, spreading you open. you cry out all over again, throwing your head back, your fingers finding his hair and tangling themselves in, pushing his face closer. your thighs wrap around his head as he spears his tongue inside you, lapping at your wetness like it's his last meal on earth. "taste— so good, baby.." he speaks between licks.

the sound of your cries and wet licking is all you know right now. your back is arching off the bed over and over again with each delve inside you. all while he stares straight at the glistening plains of your face, screwed in desire, mouth open around all your moans. he keeps a hand on one hip to hold you steady, and one above your pussy, his thumb toying with your clit.

"theo theo theo theo," you repeat in the same way you promised falsely that you hated him moments earlier, grinding yourself on his face. he hums as he licks, and it sends vibrations through your core, his name growing louder and louder with each passing second. "fuck, theo! fuc— ahh—!"

and this should last forever, his tongue lapping and lapping and spearing inside you, his eyes on your face as you take it like he always dreamed you would. his lips latch around the bud at the top of your clit, and it has your legs shaking around his ears, a curse choking out of your throat as you realize you're almost at that edge. almost. there. "i'm gonna— fuck— theo— cumming—!"

and he pulls away.

almost immediately, your pleasure halts. without his tongue, your orgasm is failed, nothing. your movements still. you go quiet. everything goes quiet. confused, frustrated, angry. that's what you are. the magic is gone. you're back to earth, and it is much bleaker than you remember. "what the fuck—?" and when you look down, theodore is standing up, wiping your juices from his face and licking them clean off his fingers. "theo—"

and you think maybe he's going to start again, when he climbs back over you, kissing his way from your collarbone, to your jaw, your fingers confusedly tangling into his hair again. his teeth latch onto the lobe of your ear, tug, and let go, and then.. "tell me, y/n, do you think your dear alexia would like that?"

and quiet ensues, and shock mars onto your face, your lips parting, your eyes going wide, and your blood goes dead cold. nott, with a couple of words, has just ripped a rug from beneath your feet. and you're left on the cold, hard ground, searching for words. and he hovers over your ear like that a moment, all lost, shivers running down your bare spine that was once bounding off this very bed, his bed, and then he's pulling off of you and standing at the edge of the mattress, staring at you with that smug fucking look on his face.

"we'd better hope, hm?" are his last words. and he's gone.

for my book girlys, yes, this was inspired by THAT scene in the wicked king (holly black) because CARDAN AND JUDE ARE SOSOSOOSDBDHHEBE 😻😻

go read the cruel prince if you haven't yet!!

208 notes · View notes

chernabogs · 3 days

Note

Belladonna, Forget-me-not, Hyssop, dwarf sunflower 🌻

ouagh thank you for sending a request <3 check out the list here! <3

Inc: Lilia (both present and general), Reader, Silver, Sebek mention WC: 3.5k Warnings: War mention, arson, crimes committed during war time (all my homies hate Silver Owls). Lilia cussing, as he should. Flowers: Belladonna (a confession given without words aka we are pining mentally in the club), Forget me not (the one thing I remembered and how it brought me back to you), Hyssop (one last walk through a house—sort of), Sunflower, dwarf (how many ways do I have to confess for you to believe me?). Some flexibility with these. Summary: A trinket he had forgotten pulls him down a path of memories that he wishes he could forget.

There’s a sunflower in the garden this year.

He thinks it’s quite curious when he first sees the bud, its petals still closed tight as though afraid to enter the world. He’s standing outside of the front door of his cottage with a mug in hand as he gives it a scrutinizing look. The silence of the forest surrounding his home lets him focus ample attention on how this oddity came to be. Silver has run to town and won’t be back until the evening, aiding Sebek in purchasing school supplies for the coming year, and Malleus is likely packing in his eagerness to get out of the palace for another ten months.

It’s just Lilia, his mug, and the sunflower.

“Shy, are we?” He murmurs in amusement as he raises the mug to his lips before they twist to a wry grimace. Perhaps being alone is not good for him—he’s beginning to speak to his gardens like an old man already.

He wisely turns heel and re-enters the cottage as he downs the bitter coffee before discarding the mug in the sink. He’ll wash the dishes before Silver gets home, only because he knows the boy will do it all himself if he doesn’t, which would do nothing but make Lilia feel guilty. Silver insists it’s fine, he’s happy to help his father—but it shouldn’t be that way. His brow furrows in dissatisfaction as he weaves through the cottage's halls to arrive at his bedroom.

Contrary to his room at NRC, this one is so barren it looks downright unoccupied, like no one has ever lived in it to begin with. Lilia had moved most of his valuables with him when he had received notice of his pending enrolment alongside Malleus. This at least makes sorting out what he’s to wear today much easier as he pulls open the closet to peer inside. His fingers dance along the various fabrics as he hums, and haws, and already knows he’s going to wear the same outfit he wears essentially every day.

Lilia Vanrouge has become a man of consistency—another factor that serves to paint him as ‘old’.

“Decrepit, even,” he grumbles to himself as he tosses his clothes onto the bed. Perhaps he can spice it up a bit to combat these self-perpetuated accusations through the application of an accessory. The thought pleases him enough to make him reach for the top shelf of his closet, his hand hitting against objects and shoving things around in his bid to grab something useful. Maybe he would have benefited from just floating up to see what he needed to get, because his hand soon hits an item that topples off the shelf and nearly clocks him in the face.

“Shit!” He snarls as he moves back. The box clatters to the floor by his foot with a loud rattle, causing him to glare down at it accusingly. His eyes narrow as another low curse slips out and he fumbles to pick the box up.

It’s made of carved wood—oak, by the weight of it. Each etching along the sides paints a tale that draws Lilia to a stop as he turns it over in his hands. A figure perched on a tree branch with another sitting beneath, a blade and wood in hand. The two figures are next in a home, with a few flowers hanging to dry from a window. Then they are standing beside each other by a body of water; the carving here is detailed enough that he can see apprehension in one’s gaze and sternness in the others.

The final carving is incomplete, only because a blackened char mark has burnt the wood to an unusable state.

Ah.

He remembers why he didn’t take this to NRC. He remembers why he had it shoved in the back of the closet like something rotten, something meant to be concealed. He feels his mood darken as he turns the box over again. Each nick, each mark, tells a tale of something that stirs a burning shame in his gut. His hands tighten enough that he hears the wood creaking under his strength before they relax once more.

Then, he pauses. Silver won’t be back until far later in the day. He has nothing to do but wash a mug that now sits fermenting in his sink. Beyond this, he’ll simply be wandering from room to room in his cottage like a ghost, perhaps cutting some firewood, perhaps seeing if the bloody quails that have been tormenting his vegetable gardens are back.

Lilia moves until the back of his knees hit his bed and he sits down, cradling the box more gently now. A sudden urge—a bit of masochistic curiosity—tugs at his heart as his lips curl into a sneer. His thumb brushes against the carving of the figure crouching in the tree.

Well, if he needs a good way to kill an hour or so.

“All is as if it were days long past. No matter where it takes us, it will all be over in the blink of an eye. Far cry cradle.”

_________________________________________________________

The memory begins as it always did any time that he did this. He’s just over 300 years old, his hair long and his body perched on the branches of a tree. He forgot that if he’s personally in the memory, his magic has a habit of tossing him headfirst directly into his body again. The scent of pine overwhelms him as he looks across a Briar Valley that once was just as full of life as he. Green, as far as the eye can see, and the songs of birds that have since gone extinct filling the warm air.

He shifts on the branch and closes his eyes for a moment as he drinks it all in. Things long since gone, things he wishes he could experience just one more time in his current life. He almost loses himself in the memory—a dangerous risk—before he hears the faint sound of scraping from beneath where he’s perched.

Lilia’s eyes snap open and his gaze travels down to see a figure with a cloak sitting against the pine tree, their hood pulled up as their hands expertly carve a piece of wood with their blade. He can’t quite tell what it is they’re making—and truthfully, he’s long since forgotten.

But the sound of their voice as they hum an old folk song he hasn’t heard since the war times makes him tense all the same.

You.

Fuck.

The uncomfortableness of the situation, the realization that perhaps doing this was a mistake on his part, makes him shift back on the branch. This is enough to make a few twigs snap and force your attention to jerk upwards to where he lay. His red gaze locks onto yours as every sound in the forest falls silent and all he knows is the confusion in your eyes.

“How long have you been up there?” You blurt out, your voice sounding exactly how he hears it in his dreams for the past four hundred years. A strangled sound leaves his throat, and with all of the energy he can muster, Lilia jerks himself free of the memory.

_________________________________________________________

He stutters for air as his eyes open once more and he grips the box tight. The carving of his body on the branch overlooking yours at the base is now just a mockery for things he foolishly lost. The only way he can know you now is through the use of magic, and even that cannot return you entirely.

He shouldn’t be doing this. A glance at the clock on the wall tells him he was in the memory for fifteen minutes, despite it feeling only like mere seconds.

He shouldn’t be doing this. He turns the box over in his hand to look at the next carving. The two figures in a home, with a few flowers hanging to dry from a window. He notes with a bitter amusement that they’re all sunflowers.

The box should go back on the top shelf. He should lock it away again and forget it, leave it for Silver to find only once his father is dead and rotting under the earth. Perhaps the boy can finish what the humans started—burning it to nothing but cinders.

He shouldn’t be doing this to himself, and yet…

“All is as if it were days long past. No matter where it takes us, it will all be over in the blink of an eye. Far cry cradle.”

_________________________________________________________

Lilia finds himself standing in a small cottage eerily reminiscent of his own. He knows a few months have passed since the first encounter by the way there’s snow falling heavily from the skies outside. Briar Valley’s winters are vicious—as untamed as the land itself once had been before metal teeth had torn it apart and left the fae to clean its viscera. His gaze travels to the window nearby to look out at the landscape before it’s drawn upwards to the flowers hanging down from the sill.

Sunflowers, which look as fresh as the day they were likely picked, paint a cheery picture against the bleak backdrop beyond.

“I am afraid it isn’t quite perfect, but it should do the trick to warm you up.” Your voice's soft cadence causes his shoulders to tense as he doesn’t turn around to face you. He can hear you humming, the sound of a bowl being set on a nearby table, and the aroma of something so intoxicating it makes his stomach twist in phantom hunger. “Why were you rushing through this blizzard to begin with?”

Lilia blinks as silence falls. You’re waiting for his response. This likely won’t play out unless he gives it.

“Her majesty bid me to deliver a missive to Princess Meleanor.” He murmurs, eyes still fixated on the sunflower. They almost look real to him despite the knowledge that this is nothing but an illusion. He hears you hum in disapproval. You often did that—hummed a lot, laughed a lot.

“Terrible weather to be doing so, but I suppose if it’s urgent, you can’t sit on it. At least have something to eat before you go braving Briar Nation once more.”

His head turns slightly so that he can catch a glimpse of you in his peripheral vision. Your back is to him as you scoop more food into a second bowl. You’re not unique—just another fae in a nation of many—but you stand out to him. Four hundred years later, he still struggles to rationalize why.

“You must like sunflowers a lot.” He comments abruptly. He didn’t say this in the memory, and he can tell by the way it seems to stutter around him. You still turn and look at him in confusion, however. “You only have sunflowers hanging on your window.”

“Oh!” You seem surprised, and then delighted as a smile graces your face. He wishes he had never seen that again. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

He wants to say something, perhaps ‘I know’, but the memory melts away before the words can leave his tongue.

_________________________________________________________

Lilia tastes copper when his eyes snap to the clock on the wall. Thirty minutes have gone by now—another fifteen in the previous memory. His hands shake slightly as he turns the box over like a man under a compulsion. The carving of two figures by the water seems to be taunting him as his thumb traces across your body.

He doesn’t even bother speaking the phrase clearly this time. It comes as a mumble, and suddenly he’s falling into darkness again.

_________________________________________________________

Tension is palpable when Lilia opens his eyes. Although it’s spring, the warmth seems nonexistent in the air as deafening silence fills where he stands. You’re by his side, your arms crossed tight over your chest as you stare at the pond beyond. By your feet, a patch of sunflowers smiles up at the bright skies above.

“How much longer do you think it will last before they wipe it clean?” You ask, your voice containing barely concealed rage as your nails dig into your sleeves. His jaw clenches as he shrugs one shoulder.

“A week. A month. A year. It could be any amount of time. They have new machines that they’ve been using—new means to rip open our nation to reach its heart.” He scoffs and turns sharply. “Fucking humans. Why did they need to come here to begin with? We were fine before they came crawling onto our shores, with their bitching, and moaning, and noxious fucking machines!”

“Lilia.” Your voice is calmer as he feels your hand touch his arm. His fury simmers slightly under this action. “At least we’re gaining some ground against them, right? And they haven’t reached all of Briar Nation yet. I can still provide game and herbs to the neighbouring villages—there’s an abundance surrounding my cottage.”

Lilia wants to say that’s because all of the animals are being driven deeper into the woods, but he holds his tongue as he meets your steadfast gaze. In the period of time since he’s come to know you, he’s also realized that your stubbornness will have you refuting every claim with an optimistic one of your own. Already you had staunchly refused to leave your cottage despite the looming threat drawing ever so nearby.

“I need to go soon.” He finally sighs as he tears his gaze away from you to the pond again. He hasn’t seen this pond since the war era simply because he knows it was drained for the Silver Owls' use. He hears your own sigh slip out as you remove your hand. The skin that you touched aches in its absence.

He steals a glance at you and tries to preserve your side-profile in his mind. If he could, he would carve it onto every surface he possessed, marking every line and bump that comprised the masterpiece that is you to his liking. He has already devoted himself by this point to mapping these curves with his fingers under the shadow of Briar Nations endless nights. He has memorized every sound you make, as sweet as any song can be, and which places on your body elicit such music. You had both entered this dance as a means to release stress—but now, four hundred years later, he knows it meant so much more.

He wants to sweep you in his arms. He wants to pull you to safety, to silence your protests with hushed whispers and utterances of his devotion. He wants to pour his heart into your hands until he’s empty and belonging entirely to you. He is a man who, once he devotes himself to something, gives endlessly until he remains a ghost of who he once was.

He loves you in this moment, where the sun dapples your skin, and he can pretend he’s still in the Briar Nation he knew. So, he breaks conduct again.

“You should leave.” The memory wavers at his words. In the past, he had simply turned at this point to begin returning to your cottage so that he could ready his travel pack. “You should go to the next village over. Go somewhere safe.”

The memory wavers again, fraying along the edges, and yet still Lilia finds himself persevering. “Please. I don’t want to see what’s going to happen next.”

You turn to look at him as his vision begins to darken. Your brow furrows, confusion etching your face as the last words you speak feel like a nail in his own coffin.

“Lilia, this is my home.”

_________________________________________________________

He doesn’t immediately speak as he comes back again. The clock shows forty-five minutes have passed now, and the lighting in the bedroom he sits in has altered to reflect this. A numbness has crept into his body and settled just below his skin. It fluctuates and writhes like an insect and causes him to shiver as he rotates the box once more.

The last carving is incomplete. The black marks that mar its surface guarantee this. Faintly, he can smell smoke on both the box and his hands as he traces his thumb across this, as well.

It comes back filthy.

Lilia’s expression schools itself to a blank look as the silence of the empty cottage perpetuates. Only his breathing breaks the still air, stuttering slightly as his lips part.

“... far cry cradle.”

_________________________________________________________

Lilia can smell it before he sees it. Wood, smouldering in the unforgiving winter sun, accompanied by something more pungent and feral. He’s already running by the time he snaps into the memory, his feet dragging through heavy snow as he fights against the elements to reach the treeline. He can see dark smoke pluming upwards.

It’s always too late by the time he arrives.

His steps slow, his feet drawing to a stop as cold snow soaks through his pants. Before him lays a painting of carnage, crafted by human hands, and displayed for the eyes of any fae passing by. Footsteps trample in the aged snow that surrounds the smouldering husk of the structure. Your words regarding your cottage being in a hot spot for game and herbs ring as a mockery now in his ears as he slowly, slowly, inches closer.

“Hello?” His voice cracks as the words leave him. The forest echoes them back—hello? Hello? Hello?

Stone dust scatters across the white earth as his hand comes to touch the frame you had been so proud of when you had first shown it off. Burnt, with embers still smouldering in the wood. He feels afraid to step further, but he knows that if he doesn’t then he’ll never get the satisfaction of knowing whether you may have survived it or not.

Lilia passes through the door frame. He looks up to what remains of your roof, to the space where sunflowers once hung, and then just beyond the large wooden table you had carved for yourself as well. A small box sits perfectly on its blackened surface, like it had been placed on display intentionally for his discovery.

The memory begins to blur at this point. Things that should be there soon bleed into black outlines, dripping down onto the floor with a rhythmic thump. He can see static in what looks like the shape of an arm peeking out from behind the table leg as his stomach twists, and rage begins to flood through his veins in place of blood. A stuttering breath leaves him as the static arm remains still.

He is General Lilia Vanrouge. He is a soldier. He is meant to protect his people, and yet, and yet—

_________________________________________________________

Lilia snaps out of this memory by throwing the box to the floor. It clatters at his outburst before he kicks it viciously into the closet, his breath leaving him in ragged gasps as he does. His mind is a blur as his one hand grips the sheets beneath him and the other grabs his collar, trying to ground him in the moment before the whole world spins out of proportion.

He is not General Lilia Vanrouge. He is not a soldier. He is not walking into the home of the person he thought he loved, forced to bury what was left of them in a pauper's grave—just another loss in the wartime.

He is a man, sitting in his cottage, with a son who will be home by evening and a school he needs to pack for.

“Fuck,” he groans, pressing his face into his hands as he shakes himself free of the thoughts. “Fuck... fuck!”

A brief glance at the clock shows an hour has passed by now. His chest feels heavy, and his mind full of cotton as he dresses in a mechanical manner before going about his chores for the day.

By the time Silver returns, he’s fought off the quails, weeded the garden, cut firewood, and cleared the gutters. What he hasn’t done is clean the mug that’s been sitting in the sink since the morning—a task that Silver happily takes on after Lilia looks close to losing it.

If his son notices anything else off about his father, he says nothing about it, but Lilia does note the way Silver seems a bit more talkative than usual this evening. Lilia’s mind continues to replay the memories he experienced in a macabre theatrical viewing as he tries hard to listen to what Silver is saying. Eventually, they both fall silent as Silver washes the mug, along with the dishes from dinner in addition. The sun is beginning to set when he pauses to peer out the window with a curious expression.

“Did you see the sunflower in the garden?” Silver asks, his voice soft as he finishes drying off the mug. Lilia raises an eyebrow as he looks up again.

“What about it?”

“It opened up.” Silver looks surprised, and then delighted as a smile graces his face. Lilia’s eyes widen as he notes the similarities between the childish joy on his son's face, and that which he once saw on your own.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

#lilia vanrouge #lilia x reader #(ish)#twst #twst x reader #twst fanfiction #twst spoilers #yeah #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst lilia #phew ok girlies i think that hits it #anyway went off kinda... oop

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imagining-in-the-margins · 17 hours

Text

🌈CM Pride Challenge🏳️‍⚧️

Hey everyone, I’m back with another monthly challenge! For the months of May AND June, I am formally challenging any willing writer to take a stab at writing fanfiction including LGBTQA+ PRIDE using their choice of Criminal Minds characters! Reader, Original Character, Character/Character ships, Gen/Platonic fics are allowed!Please check out the Rules below the Keep Reading.

There are a LOT of prompts below the cut, so keep going!

(**This is NOT a request list for me—this is a prompt list of other writers! Feel free to request from someone else, and be sure to let them know about the challenge!)

General Prompts 🏳️‍🌈

Coming out is so much harder the second time

Describe Character’s first kiss with the same gender

Describe Character(s) spending a day at a Pride parade

The team realizes that A&B were more than roommates

Penelope goes a little overboard on rainbow decorations at Characters’ wedding

Character's marriage mutually comes to an end when they come out... now what?

Character comes out at the same time they announce their new relationship to the team

Character A fears it’s too late for them to live authentically, and B assures them that’s not true

Character A gifts B something colored like their pride flag because “the colors reminded me of you”

Child realizes that not every kid has two moms/two dads and they have a lot of questions about it

Queer characters have a hard time deciding what their child should call them and come up with fun ideas

Character A goes to a LGBT bar with B as a wingperson (or maybe they want them, themselves?)

Anything else you can think of!

More prompts (transgender, assorted, dialogue) below!

Transgender Prompts 🏳️‍⚧️

Character A helps B get their first tailored dress/suit

Character A helps B shave and/or put on makeup

The couple is looking for gender neutral nicknames

Character A buys B specialty gender affirming lingerie

Character is casually referred to with an appropriately gendered nickname for the first time

Characters are renewing their vows and redoing their wedding photos following a coming out

Character A walks in on B wearing a new gender-affirming outfit and surprises them with an enthusiastic compliment

The team throws Character an impromptu first birthday party following their coming out (how did they get a banner so fast?!)

Character A buys B a gender affirming but stereotypical gift (sports jersey, neon pink purse, etc.) that they would otherwise hate (but find absolutely hilarious)

Specific Prompts 💝

[Bisexual] Character gets irritated when people reduce their sexuality to their current partner

[Bisexual] Character A is in a M/F relationship with B and worries that their queer identity will become invisible dating them

[Asexual] Characters explore different forms of non-sexual intimacy

[Asexual] Characters are both asexual but too nervous to tell one another. They awkwardly attempt to have sex but end up laughing at how ridiculous they feel.

Dialogue Prompts 💐

“Are they… flirting?” “Big time.”

“I got to fall in love with you twice.”

“To be seen is to be loved." "I see you.”

“Be gay, do crimes.” “Aren’t you a cop?”

“There is no heterosexual explanation for that.”

“Life is very different once you find your people.”

“Cardinals and hydrangeas can change. Why not you?”

“You're still the person I love. Nothing will change that.”

“We both wear pants. Makes it easier to kick your ass.”

“It’s never felt like this before. I've never felt like this before.”

“I guess it makes sense now why it never worked out with my exes.”

Am I allowed to look at her like that? Could it be wrong when she's just so nice to look at? ("She" by Dodie)

“You can kiss a hundred boys in bars, shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling ... Well, good luck, babe. You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling.” ("Good Luck, Babe!" by Chappell Roan)

Rules ❤️🧡💚💙💜🖤🤎

The fic can be a Reader insert, an Original Character, a character/character ship, a platonic ship, or a Gen fic. It can feature any Criminal Minds character. AUs and crossovers are more than welcome.

Tag me in the fic, or send the link to me in a Direct Message. It can be already written, or you can write it for the challenge - I’m collecting both! You can also tag it “#mentioningmargins” which is a tag I track.

The fic can be any genre, but ONLY send me smut if your bio states you are 18+. I DO NOT WANT smut written by minors. Ever. At all. I will check.Platonic ships and pure, fluffy fics are 100% allowed.

Please include Content Warnings and a one-sentence Summary of the fic in your post.

Have fun!

The Masterlist of fics will be posted around June 30. If you finish after that, no problem - just send me the fic once you’re done and I’ll add it after-the-fact!

Feel free to message me if you want help developing a plot, have any questions, or just want to gush about your fic. I’m happy to help, and I’m happy you’re here ❤️

🌈Happy writing! 🏳️‍⚧️

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lovifie · 13 hours

Note

Hey there Lovifie.

I hate to bother you but can I ask for a request?

You see the thing is that I’ve been having a few bad weeks lately and the news I got today just really pushed me to the point that I can’t stop crying now.

Long story short, I’ve applied again for another promotion within my department for my job; this would be the third time I’ve tried for one and for the third time I was passed over for someone else. I honestly don’t know what I’m doing wrong; why they're not choosing me. I’m doing everything they’re asking for, going above & beyond for them and more but apparently it’s just not good enough for them. I just don’t know what else I can do.

Now I feel like I’m not good enough for anything; I'm confused and it hurts. Can I please request a comfort fic of John Price or Poly141 comforting a curvy, Mexican female reader who just feels like she's not good? Please? 🙏🏽 💔

My dear, you are never ever a bother. I’m really sorry to hear you have been having the last couple of shitty weeks, I sent you a message before and I hope this cheers you up a bit and everyone that may be having a rough time 🩷

I did it with poly141 because if we are looking for comfort we are going all out!!

The boys are back home and you know it, they got home last week, spending most of the time together, bathing in each other comforting proximity, helping them decompress after their deployment.

You didn't tell them about what was troubling your mind, they already have enough on their plate and you didn't want to bother them. Or that's what you thought it would be, a bother.

That's why you are standing before the door, knowing you have to enter but trying to recollect your feelings to be able to portray a happy face when you finally open the door.

But the door opens before you want it to, Simon's brown eyes staring at you. “What are you doing, lovie? The motion camera is going nuts…” he trails off, looking at how you try your hardest to look fine. “Everything alright?”

You quickly nod, walking past him, kissing his cheek standing on your tip toes. “Yeah, all good. Was trying to remember where I put my keys.” You laugh, thinking that it is believable as you enter. He doesn't buy it but chooses to stay quiet. You will talk when you need it.

You leave your bag on the floor next to the door, taking off your shoes and Simon helps you take off your jacket, hanging it on the hook next to Johnny's. “How was work?”

“Horrible.” You think, but instead, you sight and murmur. “Tiring.”

“Did I hear somebody say they are tired?” Johnny's voice beams in the room when he walks to you like a happy puppy, hugging you from behind and hiding his face on your neck. You move your hand back to pet the back of his head. “You tired, mami?”

You nod, with a smile on your face. Closing your eyes when he kisses your cheek squishing your face with his. “Then eat dinner and straight to bed.”

“No shower?” You ask with a raised eyebrow.

“Nah, you are still clean for a couple more days. Right. Or are you stinky?” He says, moving his head back with a confused expression on his face, only for him to hide his face again in your neck making you chuckle when he sniffs your smell dramatically hard. “Yeah, not stinky.”

He pats your butt, as in signing the deal that you don't need to shower and you smile shaking your head.

His silliness is almost enough to make you forget the hardness of your day. Almost.

“Is she home?!” Kyle's voice sounds from the kitchen and you follow his voice like a moth to the light. Hearing Simon tell Johnny to go shower his stinky self, making him whine.

“Hi, Riri.” You say, using the nickname he hates so much.

He groans, scrunching his face at you making you laugh. “I'm not Rihanna, love.”

“Hm, but you sound just like her when you shower.” You say hugging him from behind, he is standing in front of the stove, taking care of dinner. Some kind of pasta getting boiled while he works on the sauce on the pan right in front of you.

So close to it, that when Kyle moves, threatening to tickle you for teasing him, you move your arm to shield yourself. But your forearm crashes with the pan, making it fall and burning you in the process.

Kyle manages to catch it by the handle just in time before burning himself or spilling it all over the floor. He turns off both of the stoves, to make sure nothing burns while he checks on you.

“You alright, love? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stood so close.” He says, but your eyes are glued to the spot of sauce on the ground. Almost nothing fell from the pan, barely enough to fill half a glass.

But the thought in your mind makes you write it at the top of the list of things you have fuck up. And it makes your eyes tear up with the feeling of simply not being good enough.

“Sunshine.” Kyle calls you, cupping your face so you will look at him but his eyes follow you, seeing the sauce on the ground. “Hey, hey, it's okay.”

“I'm sorry.” Your voice cracks making you inhale to try and calm yourself down. “I'm sorry, Kyle.”

“Hey, what happened to Riri?” He asks with a kind smile on his face. “Don't apologise, love. It's okay, there is more sauce stuck to the spoon than on the floor, love. No problem, alright? Everything is fi- you are burnt!”

He cuts himself off when he sees your skin red with the burnt, he grabs your wrist pulling you to the sink to move your arm under running cold water. “I'm sorry, love. Poor baby…”

“Hi, mami.” Price says entering the kitchen, he must have just come out of the bathroom. Possibly kicked out by Johnny, because he enters the kitchen only wearing his pyjama pants, hair still moist. You look at him, eyes wet with tears making him furrow his eyebrows in worry. “What happened?”

“Little cooking accident, nothing to worry about.” Kyle answers, rubbing circles on your hand still under the water with his thumb. “Can you pass the mop, please?” Kyle asks, pointing with his face to the sauce on the floor.

“I'll do it.” You say, trying to pull your hand from Kyle's grasp. “I spilt it, I'll clean it.”

“Nonsense, you and I are bothering Johnny to grab the burns cream from the bathroom. Let's go, we might see his bubble butt if we are lucky.” Kyle jokes, winking at you, trying to get you to smile.

But you are already too deep in your own thoughts to do so, you sigh, rubbing your eyes at the sting of your tears and shaking your head. “I'm fine, I'm just… I'm just going to go to bed.”

“Without eating?” Simon walks into the doorframe, handing the mop to Price who cleans the floor keeping an eye on you. “Are you grounding yourself or what, love?”

And you try your best to not cry, to hold it in, at least until you are in your room, with your privacy to cry yourself to sleep. But then Johnny also walks in, talking about if anyone knows where his towel is; and his blue eyes catch yours, shining with worry when he sees your tears.

“What happened?” He asks, repeating Price's words without knowing it.

You look at them, the four pairs of eyes looking at you, expecting an explanation, worry and curiosity clear on them. And it only makes your eyes sting more with a new batch of tears that easily roll down your cheeks.

It makes you cover your face with your hands, sobbing softly against your palm. One of them hugs you, pressing you against his body and you know it's Price for the warmth emanating from his naked torso.

“Let's go to the living room, the kitchen is too small for five people.” Simon comments, his hand resting on the small of your back, caressing comforting circles on it.

When you don't move, Price moves his hands under your armpits, raising you to hold onto him like a koala. Crying on his strong shoulder like a baby, a big baby.

He sits down on the sofa, moving you so you are sitting on his lap sideways, your face still hidden on his neck. You feel everyone else find their place around the two of you. Kyle is sitting next to Price on the sofa, your feet resting on his lap, his warm hand resting on your calf under your trouser warming you up. Johnny is sitting on the armrest of the sofa, his hand resting on your ribs, moving up and down as well, moving slowly to help you breathe slower. And Simon is kneeling on the floor behind the sofa, one arm bendt on the backrest of the sofa to lean his head on it and the other hand petting your head, brushing your hair.

But no matter how comforting his touches are at the moment, the door holding the tears in has been opened and they are rolling freely down your face into Price's exposed shoulder.

It's long after that, that you manage to breathe normally again. Still hiccuping but now oxygen getting to your lungs.

Simon is the first that you look up, moving your hand from Price's shoulder to grab Simon's finger, the man curling his finger pulling your hand to his. A soft smile on his face. “Hey, pretty girl.”

Price looks over your shoulder, using his thumbs to dry the tears from your face, kissing your cheek. “Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks, the only answer he gets from you is in the way of shrugged shoulders.

Simon stands behind you, letting your hand fall onto Kyle's and groaning when his knees pop as he stands up. He sits on the opposite armrest from Johnny, next to Kyle and looks at your face when Price moves you lower so you are resting your face on his chest.

“What's wrong, love?” Price asks looking at you, his hand petting your thigh.

“I… I just keep fucking everything up…” You admit, voice tiny, afraid that if you speak any louder the tears will return. “I ruined dinner, I ruined tonight, I ruined everything…”

“What are you talking about?” Johnny asks behind you. “You haven't ruined anything, lass. Everything is right.”

“Surprisingly, Johnny's right, love.” Gaz says, Johnny making an offended noise behind you. “Nothing is ruined, love…”

“Did something happen at work today?” Simon asks, regretting the moment you lock eyes with him and your eyes glisten with tears.

You nod again, melting into Price's arms. “We are proud of you, you know that right?” Price says, making you sob again. “We were proud before today, we will be proud tomorrow, we were proud of you weeks ago and we will be even more proud of you in the future.”

“You don't even know what happened…” you sniffle, wiping your nose with the back of your hand.

“We don't need to.” Johnny says. “We know you. And we know that you always try your best, that you work your ass off and that you are a bloody good worker, love.”

“Yeah, I just need to make my boss see it too.” You mumble, sadness being replaced by annoyance.

“We can always murder him.” Simon says, earning himself a group groan of his name. “I'm just saying.”

“What Simon's trying to say.” Price says, turning to you again. “Is that if all four of us can see it… he will eventually see it too.”

“Yeah, it's his fault he is so stupid it's taking him so long.” Gaz says, smile on his face.

“But I'm tired of it…” You admit, pout on your face as you lean your head back onto Johnny, the man resting his hand on your face, caressing your cheek.

“That's normal, love… How about we take care of you, him?” Johnny asks, making you look at him. “Let's have dinner, then you and I take a stinky bath, and then… a movie? Some cuddles? Sounds good?”

You nod before answering. “Yeah… sounds really good.”

All of them but Price stand up at your words. “Dinner time it is, boys.” Gaz says, walking into the kitchen as Johnny and Simon set up the table.

“Should we help them?” You ask Price, looking over his shoulder.

“Nah, they can themselves.” He answers, cupping your face to give you a peck on your lips. “You are amazing, love… don't forget it, alright? You are more important than your job, a promotion or anything going on, alright? We love you, cariño.” He says, accentuating the “r” to make you smile.

And later, when you are sitting down with the four of them at the table, the only thing you can think about is about how lucky you are.

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msvanillalatte · 2 days

Text

Studying and...? Pt. 1

SUGGESTIVE CONTENT! YOU'VE BEEN WARNED

Having to do a project with Mattheo Riddle was a living hell. And not just because you hated him with every inch of your soul, but also because everything had to be his way. You had to meet up with him according to his schedule, write the way he wanted to, and basically, do whatever he told you to. Absolute hell.

You couldn't stand his stupid comments nor the annoying smirk that appeared on his face every time your face went red because of your anger.

"You know, maybe you shouldn't be so sour all the time. Just relax, we've already finished the work." Mattheo said with a cheeky tone, watching you re-reading all the pages and changing stuff.

"Will you please shut up? The last thing I want to do is relax with you." You fired back and sat on your bed to get as much distance as you could from him.

Mattheo's smirk only grew after hearing you. He wouldn't admit it, but secretly, he loved your attitude and the way you didn't care about what he thought of you, and that was something unique.

"Calm down princess, no need to be so rude, you really hurt my feelings." The boy put his hand on his heart and acted offended while smiling from ear to ear.

"Don't call me that." You said, but you knew that deep down, that nickname did sinful things to you. Your thighs instantly closed and your cheeks flushed pink.

Mattheo watched you intensely, and for the love of god, he couldn't stop. You looked like a stressed mess, but really hot. He felt the pressure on his jeans and a smirk appeared on his face when he saw you looking at him in a way you've never looked at him before. With lust.

Slowly, the boy in front of you made his way towards you, and even if you wanted to feel him everywhere, that would be against your principles. Mattheo Riddle was the boy you despised the most, with his snarky remarks and mean comments. But you couldn't stop looking at him. He was handsome, you've always known, but didn't pay much attention to it until now. The way his hair was perfectly fine and his posture radiated confidence had you at his feet.

"Don't come near me, Riddle. Stay over there until we finish going through this papers and then you can leave." The words rushed out of your mouth, desperate to get him as far from you as you could.

"You sure about that? It doesn't seem like you don't want me near you." Mattheo said while pointing with his sight at your clenching thighs...

IM BACKKKKKK. Should I continue this? It's based on a prompt I got, but please let me know if you'd like to keep reading this!!!

SORRY IF I MADE ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKE, ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!

-MsVanillaLatte

#mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #matt riddle #matt riddle smut #harry potter #writing #fanfic #slytherin smut #slytherin boys #golden trio slytherin #golden trio era #slytherin #slytherin boys fic #slytherin boys react

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turquoisenintendo64 · 15 hours

Text

Love Comes to Everyone !

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂

in which: a daughter of aphrodite is camp half-blood’s matchmaker, but can’t seem to find someone for herself.

percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite!reader

inspired by “Love Comes to Everyone” by George Harrison :)

warnings: use of y/n, there is no such thing as forbidden children, percy has a little half-sister, pipabeth implied

a/n: part 1 of the song inspired blurbs!! i’ll make more for my babies ehehehe, will probably make this a two shot. also this is terrible but anyway kinda cute

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂

“the date went fantastic!” daliah, a girl from the demeter cabin, told you, while you were eating some strawberries she brought you.

“i’m glad,” you smiled.

before the end of the week, you have set up two couples: daliah and fred, a boy from the hephaestus cabin, and emma and sasha, two unclaimed girls.

you really hoped emma and sasha weren’t sisters, that would be quite unfortunate.

“i’m sure all of your relationships went really well.”

and here we go again.

since you are a daughter of the goddess of love, people tend to assume you are a heartbreaker, maneater, and many other words not as friendly.

but the truth is you aren’t. in fact, you’ve never had a real boyfriend.

only boys who had invited you to their cabins to hangout, but you never ended up liking them enough to date them.

“oh, yeah! super well,” you lied.

you hated to admit it, but there was nothing you wanted more than to be loved. to have someone to be completely enamoured by you, admire you, listen to you, be someone’s priority. but you could never seem to find it.

some of your sisters tell you to just charm-speak your way into some boy’s heart, but that’s not real love, and you want real love.

you had love in your life, though. you loved your friends, and they loved you just as much.

“it takes time,” you heard a masculine voice next to you.

you snapped back to reality and found percy sitting next to you. when did daliah leave?

“what?”

“love,” he said.

to be honest, you were a little bit surprised by him talking to you all of a sudden.

you and percy aren’t exactly friends; he is best friends with annabeth, and you are too, sonit was inevitable for you two to meet and have a conversation once or twice.

“yeah, i know.” you nodded. “it sucks though, being able to set up a lot of people but not being able to do that for myself.”

“we all have someone, you just have to find it,” he got up, and after a sigh, he said “and who knows? maybe he is closer than you think.” and walked away.

trust me, if he was close, i’d know, you thought, but… maybe you wouldn’t know.

you knocked the door of the athena cabin, being greeted by a smiling annabeth.

then her smile faded.

“you are late, miss y/l/n.”

you asked her for help with something, yet you were late.

“i know, i know, i’m sorry. i got distracted.” you said, walking inside.

“by what?” she asked, sitting crisscrossed in her bed.

“daliah,” you said, sitting in her bed. “oh and percy.”

she smiled.

“percy?”

“mhm.”

“interesting…” she narrowed her eyes, with her smile still intact.

“interesting? why would it be interesting?”

“nothing. he just never talks to you.” she opened her ancient greek book you asked for, still smiling.

she was an incredibly bad liar, but you decided to ignore that and move on to your study session.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂

“so you got sick in the matter of… three hours?” you asked annabeth.

“yes, and it’s” cough cough “really bad.”

you crossed your arms.

will had called you after your study session with annabeth, telling you she went to the infirmary claiming to have the flu.

“if you have it, i probably have it too, then.”

“no. you are totally fine.” she said. you raised an eyebrow.

“right… i will go help my sisters with the decorations in case the new camper is a daughter of aphrodite.”

“wait!” she called. “i promised percy to help him show the new camper around camp.” she explained.

“well if you have the flu, you can’t do that.”

“i know. could you do it for me?” she asked you, with a grin.

you stayed silent for a few seconds. as you weren’t answering, she faked a cough to make her indisposition more believable.

“sure, i’ll help percy.” her grin widened even more.

“thank you so much,” she kissed you in the cheek.

“if i get sick because of you, i will haunt you in your sleep.”

“yeah, yeah, now leave.” she pushed you out of the bed.

you walked out of the infirmary, not before telling will to call you at any minor inconvenience. you didn’t believe annabeth had the flu, but just in case it was true, you wanted to be with her if she got worse.

you saw percy with a little girl holding his hand.

she looked scared, and he was knelt next to her, whispering in her ear.

the little girl smiled and giggled.

“hey,” you greeted.

“hey. mary, this is y/n,” percy introduced you to the little girl, who shyly waved to you. she looked seven or so.

“hello mary, how are you?” you asked, kneeling in front of her, just like percy.

“i miss my mommy,” she confessed, tear stains on her cheeks.

“don’t worry, we’ll take care of you,” percy said, stroking her back.

percy got on his feet again, still holding mary’s hand.

he sounded like a tour guide, explaining everything as you walked around camp, adding anecdotes to entertain mary.

“that is the ares cabin,” he pointed to cabin 5, “but don’t get too close; they might bite you.” mary chuckled as percy tickled her.

he was good with kids.

gods, he was good with kids.

this guy was perfect and you didn’t even notice.

“this is y/n’s cabin, the aphrodite cabin,” he explained. he glanced at you before speaking again. “goddess of love and beauty. it’s not hard to believe she is y/n’s mom, right?”

you blushed. he was good with kids and lowkey bad at flirting. all you could ever ask for in a man.

“your mom is the goddess of beauty?” mary asked you, eyes shining with curiosity and innocence.

you nodded, “you can come to my cabin whenever you want, and i can dress you like a princess.” you told her, smiling.

“yes! i want to be a princess!”

you and percy laughed. he looked at you, but you didn’t notice.

now, he explained the hardest part. the whole ‘you could wait your whole life to be claimed’ thing. mary’s lower lip shivered, and it made you want to cry in the spot.

“so you don’t know who my dad is?” she asked. you and percy shared a concerned look.

“no. but i’m sure he will claim you soon, and when he does, we will introduce you to your brothers and sisters, okay?” you told her, reassuringly caressing her cheek.

“okay,” she said, smiling again, “you are my new best friends.”

you walked her to the hermes cabin, and stayed with her until she was comfortable with the other campers that resided there.

it was quite late, almost dinner time, exactly.

percy walked you to your cabin, and you stayed in the doorway a few minutes talking about mary.

“maybe she’s a daughter of apollo,” he suggested. “she’s really energetic.”

“well, duh, we all are. ADHD.”

“right,” he chuckled. “demeter, maybe? she seemed really interested in the strawberry fields.”

“well, she screamed when she saw a ladybug so i don’t think so.”

you heard someone calling for percy, and you cursed mentally.

“i have to… uh… leave.” he said, almost hesitantly.

he walked down the stairs of the cabin’s porch, facing you.

“i’ll see you at the campfire,” he said, with an awkward smile.

you smiled and waved. for some reason, you couldn’t let out any words.

you walked in your cabin, and threw yourself in your bed.

you didn’t notice annabeth and your sister piper in piper’s bed next to yours.

“how was your night, lovergirl?” annabeth asked you.

“didn’t you have the flu?” you asked, face buried in your pillows.

“i’m better.”

“i hope will gave you the plague,” she rolled her eyes.

you sat down in your bed, looking at them.

“percy is a good friend.”

“we know.”

“he’s kind.”

“we know.”

“he’s funny.”

“we know.”

“he’s kinda smart.”

“kinda. we know.”

“super bad at flirting.”

“we know.”

“good with kids.”

“we know.”

“and handsome. dare i say hot.”

“we prefer women, but we know,” annabeth said. piper giggled.

“do you guys think he could-“

“he does like you, y/n.” piper said.

“don’t know,” you turned around, laying down.

you heard annabeth and piper’s giggles, then, you heard a whisper.

“i think our lovergirl has found her loverboy.”

“shut up!” you whispered back.

and they laughed harder.

but maybe, just maybe, they were right.

#percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #pjo #pipabeth #piper mclean #annabeth chase #chb #camp half blood #riordanverse #rick riordan

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d3adlyromb3ar · 2 days

Text

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。devil, meet angel

— pairing. choso x fem!reader

— synopsis. you were sent to exorcize him. upon meeting him, you can’t bring yourself to go through with it.

— word count. 2.2k

— warnings. angst, self hate, mental health issues, mentions of death, fluff, hurt/comfort, jjk violence, injuries, slight gore, suicidal ideation, choso just being a sweet boy we love him

main masterlist

You didn’t know what to think of him as he sat from afar, playing checkers with himself. It was both confusing and intriguing, and it pulled you closer towards him. Footsteps quiet and calculated.

If you were anything— it was stealthy. You could come and go as if you were never there, undetected like a ghost. Perhaps that’s how you got the nickname.

The Ghost.

His pale skin glowed, the porcelain like surface perfect— no flaws to be seen. The intricate markings among his face, complimenting the dark purple bags under his eyes. In an odd way— he was quite beautiful. Too beautiful to be a curse.

Almost as if he sensed you, his head slowly raised from the board and his eyes locked with yours.

The sudden realization that you had been caught watching— you felt glued to your spot. Staying as incredibly still— hoping you’d blend in with your environment. But at last, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes squinted upon your watchful gaze.

You were prepared to exorcize him, energy pulsing beneath your palms— the buzzing sensation itching to release. With calculated steps, you inched closer to the man.

Your first step had his eyes squinting even more, his expression mostly unchanging.

Why was I approaching this curse? I should exorcize it immediately— no questions. You thought.

Keeping your steps even and slow— you had made it closer to him. Standing a good ten feet away. Looking into his eyes, now that you were closer— you were shocked to find such emotion within them.

You weren’t even sure if he knew how expressive his eyes were.

Swallowing nervously all of a sudden, you raised your chin— false confidence.

“You know why I’m here.” You started.

Somewhere in the back of your mind wondered why you were creating small talk with something you were meant to exorcize. Maybe it was simply a way to make exorcising curses more interesting— or perhaps it was the way he didn’t show any signs to fight.

The man looked you up and down, his face stuck on a neutral— almost bored expression. But his eyes, they spoke for him.

“Guess I do.” He responded, his voice low and gravelly.

You felt an awkward tug at your chest— unsure of what more to say. Unsure if you should exorcize him without another word.

“Just like that? Thought you’d at least put up a fight.” You wondered out loud.

Your words had the man tilting his head, the checkers forgotten below him as he stood suddenly. His height making itself know, the distinct difference— that if he were to approach you now— he’d be towering over you.

“Why bother… at last I’ll be with my brothers.” He revealed.

His words were shocking, very human of him. It had your chest aching with hurt. Hurt for him.

“Your… your brothers?” You wondered, already having a suspicion.

The man closed his eyes for a moment before opening them to stare you down. His jaw set, his eyes furious but broken.

“They’re dead, because of your friends.” He spoke carefully.

Your heart throbbed painfully in your chest, the shame filling your body as you began to beat yourself up for something you didn’t do. But you couldn’t help but feel at fault.

The man noticed the twitch in her brow, the way her mouth turned down from his words. Her reaction was intriguing to him— wondering why she was taking so long to end him once and for all.

Loss was something you knew well— an unfortunate feeling that lingered amongst your entire life. It was only natural to feel for others that had to experience it as well. Which was why you found yourself speaking your next words to him.

“I’m sorry.”

The man stared at you in confusion, studying your expression. He was slightly disgusted to find your reaction genuine. But why?

“Wh-what…” He trailed off.

You closed your hands into fists, trying to restrain the energy you had previously built up. Desperate to bury it within you until it deem useful.

“Your brothers. I’m sorry you had to lose them.” You spoke quietly, unsure if you had a place to be sorry for him.

His eyes narrowed at you, his own hands tightening into fists now. But as you gazed upon him, and took in his body language— you still could not find any aggression.

Meanwhile, the man was confused why you— a sorcerer— was sending him your condolences. Was it confusion he felt within him, or was it appreciation?

That would be twisted— apologizing for something your friends were at fault of. He wanted to think, but couldn’t find it in himself to.

He could only nod in thanks, choosing he to stay silent as he got lost in his own thoughts. All surrounding you.

Suddenly, the guilt sensation began to wash over you in such a way you felt physically dirty. Your skin itched— your hands clammy as you kept them squeezed tight. The realization of what you were about to do— to someone who was mourning. Someone who clearly wasn’t exactly a curse. It was only the same reminder you’d get after every mission.

Who was the real monster?

You shivered with the thought that echoed loudly within you, and you held an opened hand to your chest. In hopes your heart would slow.

The man just watched, his eyes drinking in the scene before him. Wondering why you were in such a distraught state all of a sudden. It was the concern that bubbled within him, that had him clenching his jaw.

You turned and began to walk away, not uttering another word as you just needed to escape to hiding.

“Where are you going…” He muttered, loud enough for you to hear.

He knew you did, with how your body tensed and slowed their steps. Luckily, you turned to the side, able to look him in the eye.

“Forget that this ever happened. I never saw you, you never saw me.” You explained, voice shaky.

The man looked at you in confusion, in disbelief that you were sparing him— letting him live another day. That same foreign feeling washes through him, and suddenly his gaze was softening.

“I don’t understand.” He wondered out loud again.

You shook your head, forcing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.

“You don’t need to.” You said lately, before turning away from him again.

This time you didn’t turn back around, and you kept walking with hurried steps until you found yourself crouched in a dark alley. Allowing the guilt to finally begin to eat away at you.

A part of you enjoyed this hell— a part of you feeling like you deserved such pain.

Meanwhile, Choso was trying to understand your reaction. He was hellbent on figuring out why you left, allowing him to live.

What a strange girl you are. He thought.

The small interaction between you and the man replayed in your mind. Causing you to be more distracted than usual, causing you to doubt your abilities— your purpose as a sorcerer. As of lately, it didn’t feel right. Exorcising curses didn’t feel satisfying.

Your mind wasn’t in the right place, and that’s how you ended up crawling away from the destruction of the battle. Bleeding out as you had let the curse you just exorcised, get the jump on you.

With agonizing pain, you eventually crawled your way far enough from the damage. Letting your form lean back against a brick wall. It was then you could assess yourself.

The open wound on your side was the most painful, the harsh throbbing— the sensation of the blood oozing out. It had you sweating, chest rising and falling quickly in attempts to stay conscious. You could feel the left side of your face start to burn, raising fingers to trace the outline of a cut. Starting from just above your eyebrow, dipping straight through the hairs and stopping just near your eye.

You hissed as your fingers pressed too hard on a tender spot.

Your body felt weak, exhausted as it racked up all the minor cuts and bruises— the weight of your injuries causing your eyes to droop.

This was it? Where was my phone? I should probably call for help. You thought helplessly.

Through all the pain, the questions that flew through your mind— one thought stuck out the most.

Maybe I deserved to die.

It was a sick way to be thinking, knowing how selfish it would be to give up now. People needed saving, they needed your help. But it felt impossible to find strength— any strength to keep your eyes open.

Your hand stayed tightly pressed against the wound on your side, desperate to keep the blood from oozing for however long you could. Your eyes were unfocused and staring at the ground.

There was no worse way to die, than dying alone.

Before you could drown in that thought, footsteps were heard approaching. Immediately you tensed up, glancing up quickly at your attacker.

Your breath got caught in your throat at the sight of… him again.

The same man who had taken up your headspace.

During your shock at seeing him, Choso gave himself a moment to study you. You were obviously hurt and in pain, your body battered to a pulp. He couldn’t understand why he felt so bad for you— someone who almost killed him.

You couldn’t help but stay tense, feeling like a cornered animal— waiting for your predator to attack. But as before, the man made no indication that he was going to hurt you. Instead, he squatted down in front of you— not missing the way you flinched back at his sudden closeness.

“You’re hurt.” He stated, as if it wasn’t obvious.

You couldn’t find it in yourself for a snarky comeback, not when you felt this defeated.

“W-why? What are yo- I—”

“You’re hurt, allow me to help you.” He interrupted your babbling.

Your eyes were painted in confusion, your features twisting into uncertainty. Everything about this didn’t feel right, you should’ve pushed him away and allow yourself to die instead. But you couldn’t control the way your body relaxed, your head bowing in submission.

“My name is Choso. What’s yours?” He asked, his hands ripping a part of your jacket off, creating a long bandage like strand.

You swallowed, taking a deep breath in before responding.

“I-It’s (Y/n).” You rasped out, the taste of iron coating your tongue suddenly.

Choso snuck a quick glance to you at the reveal of your name. (Y/n)… he quickly realized he liked it.

He gently snuck the jacket strand behind the dip of your lower back, tying it tightly around your wound. The sensation had you whining, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you tried to conceal your cries. The pain had washed over your body with such intensity, you felt like you were going to faint.

“Please, keep your eyes open.” He instructed, moving his attention from your side to the cut on your face.

Without realizing it, he was letting his fingers caress around the wound. You gasped at the feeling, the pads of his fingers rough in texture— but he brushed over your skin with such delicacy.

“Why are you helping m-me?” You rasped out, coughing from the tightness of your lungs.

Choso let his eyes drop from your cut to your eyes, gazing into yours with confusion. Mainly because he wasn’t quite sure why he was helping you— he just knew he had to.

“I don’t know.” He answered truthfully.

You furrowed your brows, but couldn’t dwell on his words too long— not when your body seized and twitched for a moment. This particular wave of pain hitting you harder than the rest.

Choso watched you with an intensity in his eyes, and he almost grew distracted by another unfamiliar sensation in his chest. Concern? For this sorcerer?

“I don’t deserve your help… but thank you.” You whispered, body slowly relaxing after the pain subsided for now.

“You spared me. Call this me, returning the favor.” He stated.

Although, he wasn’t sure if that was the main reason why he was saving you.

You attempted to shoot him a weak smile, but when he noticed a drop of blood escaping from the corner of your lips— he couldn’t find it in himself to return the gesture.

“Well… I appreciate it.” You mumbled out.

Choso could sense you losing consciousness, and he knew he had to get you more medical attention. He wasn’t going to let you die here— not today.

As your eyes finally dropped, your body slumping with fatigue— Choso didn’t waste another second. He scooped up your fragile form, carrying you bridal style to find some help.

His steps were quick and rushed, the sight of you laying in his arms causing another sensation to bloom in his chest. You looked so peaceful. So… pretty— like an angel. He found it odd for him to think such things.

All he knew was that the next thought he had, was leaving him the most confused he’d ever been.

He never wanted to let you out of his sight again.

— ending notes. this was in my drafts for awhile, and it’s just something random i wrote. had a dream similar to this 😇☁️ also apologies for any spelling mistakes!

#jjk #anime #jujutsu kaisen #angst with a happy ending #fic rec #choso #choso my beloved #choso kamo #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso fluff #choso x female reader #hurt/comfort #jjk x reader

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writtenbymoonflower · 5 hours

Note

evening!!! i was wondering if you could write something for polymarauders w autistic reader? lavayou 💗💗💗🧁

thank you for requesting, lovely! sorry it took so long :(

cw: description of sensory overload/sensory issues. mentions of masking

465 words

Your shoulders slumped the minute you shut the door, held down from the weight of everything around you. The waist of your pants dug uncomfortably into your middle, discomfort increased by the scratch of your sweater. The buzzing from the fluorescent lights at work still rang in your ears like a sickening symphony.

“Is that you, babydoll?” You winced at the sharp sting that wracked your body, every nerve ending firing unpleasantly. It’s not that you don’t love Sirius (or all the boys) voice, but on days like these, every new sensation can be too much. Especially when you’ve been keeping your pain hidden all day. Despite this, you made sure to put on your practiced expression, and walked to the kitchen.

“It’s me.” You said quietly, hoping your low volume would catch on. Remus turned around from the stove, eyeing you inquisitively.

“How was work, sweetness?” James questioned. You stifled another grimace. You had to get out of these constricting clothes, that would help.

“It was okay. Long.” You were too exhausted to successfully add levity to your tone.

“Yeah?” Now Sirius was inspecting you. You squirmed under his gaze. You just nodded. James seemed to also catch on. You hated admitting when you felt like this, burnt out from daily life. No matter how sweet or understanding the boys were, you still saw your struggles as an inconvenience to others, more than yourself.

“Anything we can do to help, angel?” James looked terribly sympathetic. A denial started on your tongue, but you were cut off.

“Fair warning, we are going to try to help no matter what you say. Might as well help by telling us what would be best.” Remus mused in his tone that leaves no room for argument. You sighed, fully relaxing your face into its natural expression.

“I don’t know. Everything’s just a lot I guess.” You fiddled with your hands.

“That’s okay, why don’t we try to make things a bit less?” James flicked the lights off, leaving just the gentle light from the window streaming it. That immediately eased some of the tension in your head.

“Thank you. Siri, do you think you could get my comfy clothes for me? They’re on the desk chair.”

“Course, baby.” You noticed he didn’t touch you as you left, knowing it would likely be too much. You kicked off your shoes as Remus handed you a bowl of cereal.

“Here you go, dovey. ‘S your favorite.” He smiled sweetly at you, honey eyes searching for discomfort. Sirius returned with your clothes.

“Thank you.” You mumbled. “Jamie, could you turn my show on please?” You made puppy eyes at him.

“Already on it.” He grinned at you. You smiled unashamedly.

“Alright, dollface.” Sirius drawled. “Let me help you with these clothes.”

#marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders #poly marauders #poly!marauders hurt/comfort #marauders era #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader #fluff #marauders fluff #hurt/comfort

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mrsparrasblog · 3 days

Text

The selection pt.1

Unable to feel emotions, a deadly weapon, unable to empathize with the enemy, a calculated killer. It was as if you were listening to a presentation about yourself. So this was your new place now, musty, dirty, and you needed to work with men. Unbelievable. You were so much better alone, so why send you with a team? But order is order.

Your new boss was like every other boss you had in the past fourteen years: white, old, and unable to protect himself. He relied on you, didn’t trust his allies, closest friends, and sometimes not even himself. But it was easy to trust a mindless creation, someone who shouldn’t be able to feel or think—at least that's what he says. Did he really think you hadn’t got a voice in your head? You had it—it wasn’t always there, but it was sometimes. You weren’t dumb.

"Welcome to the Team," Price said, extending his hand to you. Shepard introduced you to him and his team of barbaric monkeys. You didn’t bother to shake his hand; you hated fake niceties. Was he your boss too? You hoped not. There were already enough useless men in charge of you.

"Shake your superior's hand," he grunted out, not amused by your behavior. Superior—only more men in power. How usual. You ignored him, only rolling your eyes and looking at Shepard, your real boss. If he said shake this man's hand, you do; if not, you don’t.

"John, she doesn’t work with ranks," Shepard tried to explain. I’m an assassin, not a soldier, you thought. Soldiers weren’t something you were particularly fond of, nor were your teachers. Well, if you don’t count him, but that’s not important right now anyway.

"Well, bad for her. I don’t need someone on my team who can't show me a tad of respect," he snorted, glaring at you like he wanted to kill you—sweet, you thought, how naive he was. He really didn’t know what you were capable of.

"There is no discussion. She is on the team as long as I need her, understood?"

"Understood, General."

The boss left, telling you to try to listen to John but always listen to him first. Reasonable. You’d heard weirder requests.

"So, we're stuck with her now," the boy called Gaz, what a stupid name, asked.

"Yes."

"At least you aren’t hard on the eyes, lass," Soap joked. The man with the stupid name and the worst haircut chuckled while his hand touched your shoulder in an attempt to tease you and soften the tension between you and the new team.

By instinct, your hand grabbed his, putting it in a position where it would be so easy to break his hand. "Прикоснись ко мне снова, и я убью тебя!" you hissed, and the men only looked stupidly at you.

"Ah, she just doesn’t understand English, poor lass."

"I understand English perfectly fine. I said if you touch me again, I’m going to kill you!" The monotonous look in your eyes sent shivers down Soap's spine. He knew you weren’t playing; crazy, that’s what you were to him, and you didn’t mind, as long as he didn’t touch you again.

"Okay, why don’t we all calm down?"

"Great, Cap."

"Tell us your callsign or something about you," the older man said, and you asked yourself what would happen if you just stood up and left. But the mission was more important than your ego or annoyance for all of them. Well, except the ridiculous masked man; at least he knew how to keep his mouth shut.

"Love, 19," was all you said. The truth was, you didn’t remember your name anymore. It was all gone, buried deep between all the sessions you needed to endure until the final selection. You knew that you were called 0694 most of your life, until the accident which made them call you Love.

"You don’t seem like someone with the callsign 'Love,' more like Medusa."

"Gaz, stop!" the old man scolded. You could see the wrinkles on his face. He was at least 40, you thought. Was he more like Shepard, or Durinov? Well, he wasn’t a good guy, that's what you knew about him. But who is a good guy after all?

"Okay, Love, the Lieutenant will show you your room."

"Хорошо" You bark at him, getting ready to follow the Ghost masked guy to your new room.

"Speak English, Love."

"Fine, Captain," you scoffed at him. You were sure you wouldn’t like it here. Why couldn’t a better boss get you someone who just gave you orders? You were good at following orders: Kill him—done, torture him—done, make him pay—easy. Just this American sitcom family situation was too nauseating for you. Your thoughts went away to the prospect of skinning some of them alive, but not allowed.

You walked with Ghost to your new place. He was taller than you and bulkier, but that didn’t mean he was stronger. You fought a lot against guys like him—brutes—and they always lost. Strength isn’t enough without a brain, but he seemed smarter than the other ones; he didn’t talk, and you could appreciate that.

"This is it," he gestured to a single room with white walls and a twin-sized bed in the middle. It was one of the better places you’d slept in, if you forget Budapest, Moscow, and Prague. Stupid girl, you thought to yourself. Don’t dwell on your memories; they're gone, gone, gone.

"Okay."

"You don’t talk much," he observed.

You only nodded firmly, not bothering to use your lips to form words.

"Good," he said before walking away.

You threw your bag into the corner. You didn’t have much besides your uniform, weapons, and that washed-out picture of him, which you should have thrown out a long time ago. But it's like a warning for you, you thought. Maybe it was indeed sentiment, which you wouldn’t admit—not after that day.

In search of the training room, you walked past the meeting room where the men still sat as if time stood still.

"Shouldn’t the TF 141 have just four of us, Cap?" the man with the cap asked. If you remembered right, he was called Gaz or something like that.

"Shepard only approved of this task force if she would join, so it's off the table."

"She is crazy," Mohawk guy stated.

"Maybe so, but she's great in the field."

"How do you know, Ghost?"

"Met her in Lisbon four years ago, but as an enemy."

"Four years ago, she was 15."

"Indeed."

"This can't be true."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lisbon, March 2018

The storm howled through the gloomy streets of Lisbon. It was one of your first solo missions: just kill the target and finish. Nothing special, but lying on the rooftop with your sniper gun was more uncomfortable than you had originally imagined. Of course, you were used to discomfort, but the missions were always your safe space. Sleeping outside was easy—safer than there.

But now you were soaked through to your underwear, and the damn target was taking his sweet time. You were trained to lie here on the rooftop for several days, and you won't mess up your first mission; it all factors into the evaluation. And you already messed up that hard. You needed to improve before the grand selection.

Footsteps echoed behind you. You had the choice to turn around and fight off the intruder or to keep focusing on your mission. If he caught you turning around, you would fail, and you really didn’t need this. You decided to foolishly turn around, aiming your gun at him. He was tall, bulky, with blonde hair and several scars on his face—a soldier. Probably, your survival rate was around 75%.

Of course, he pointed his gun at you too, making this even more annoying than it already was. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” He had a British accent, probably SAS, judging by his uniform.

“I’m a NATO soldier just keeping watch. No one shoots the governor,” you tried hard to speak with an American accent, maybe he was a brute and not a brain. The uniform you wore didn’t have any flags, atypical for NATO.

“Don’t bullshit me, tell me the truth before I put a hole through your head,” he barked at you, at least only half an idiot, you guessed.

“Bold of you to assume that I won’t put a hole through your head first.”

“As if you were able, little girl.” Before you could form a cocky remark, you already had a bullet in your shoulder. He thought you would leave your position because of the bullet, but you stayed put; you needed to finish the mission. He hunched over to you, turning you around while drawing his knife out.

“Блядь, неужели ты не можешь просто позволить мне быть,” you cursed under your breath, drawing your knife too, standing up without a hint of pain in your eyes, making him wonder how this was possible.

“NATO, huh?”

He tried to bring you down with his pure brute strength, but as always, he forgot that strength isn’t everything. “You shouldn’t have such a bad stance,” you smirked before he could defend his technique; you already put a knife inside his hip.

The big, incapable soldier winced on the ground as if a knife wound hurt that bad. Before he could reach for something, you were already on your way to your rope, grabbing it to jump from the rooftop.

“By the way, never disturb my work again, сука,” and with that, you shot him in the shoulder, eye for an eye, and jumped from the rooftop.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

"That's how the governor died?" Price asked, and Ghost only nodded. It wasn't one of his proudest moments; he would have won if he hadn’t been so unfocused. Since then, his missions were always about constant focus and never underestimating an enemy.

“She is a terrorist, we don’t work with terrorists,”

“Have fun fighting me, you lose, short man—all of you will lose,” you said, showing yourself from the corner where you had been hiding. They needed to tolerate you for their silly little task force.

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thefourthwifeoftengenuzui · 2 days

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Hiiii bonten Rindou hc???? Pleaseee. Love him frr

To be honest, I intended for this to be almost exclusively for haikyuu… BUT FOR YOU MY FRIEND! *pounds chest* I SHALL GIVE YOU THE RINNY OF YOUR DREAMS. Also you didn’t specify what kind you want so ima give you my finest shit, which happens to be my head cannon prowess. (Totally not because I hate writing dialogue, no,no, that’s so stupid 😳) Also important side note: I aint spend days finishing the Tok rev manga not to use it tf outta here. Tokrev and Jjk content is welcomed proudly.

idk if I’ll make a part 2, but on the off chance I do, look foreword to girldad Rinny content.

status: unedited

warnings: cursing, slightly sexual situations (but no smut), mafia bs, blood? Fluffy bullshit, Rindou being a dick hole, the ick, my bad Spanish

💜Bonten Rindou Hataini. Headcannons~💜

The first thing off the bat, I definitely think he is on the demisexual spectrum. I know everyone else be saying that he would be all about just sleeping around like that, but to be honest, I think that that’s more of a Ran thing. I feel like the only reason he would go to strip clubs and shit like that for work, and would actually be really grossed out when people would coddle him. If he was to have a significant other, it would have to be someone he has known for a long time, or from his old delinquent days. My best idea would be a calm friend who would give him the notes from his skipped classes. And in return he’d take them out for food or some shit. Somewhere along the way y’all would just be like, “we’re totally together right?” “Duh, why else would I put up with you.” Yeah he a lil bitch.

Any way, as for him as an adult, all I gotta say is “Mmmm Papí ¿quieres una besito?~”. Like Jesus Christ man has no right being this freaking fine. Sexy Jellyfish ass boy

Yakuza Daddy🥵. This man will spoil the everlasting shit outta you, and go to Walmart for his own shit. But had does it in the most obnoxious way possible. He gets you a necklace? “Hey babe, gotchu this, your old one was musty af, take better care of your shit.” Awww you want a new dress? “Sure babe, but just know that thing barely covers shit, and will be gone by the end of the night.” You want something just random? “Wtf am I a walking ATM? No, pick it tf up, I’m buying it, you can’t stop me. Quit arguing before I buy you 3 more.”

But when it comes to himself? Yeah he only indulges in suits and Jordan’s. Other than that, he has an avengers shirt he had since he was 12 and a pinball machine. That’s the extent of his possessions. Well that and the watch you got him for his birthday, but shhhhh he can’t let you know he cares ewwwww.

Man is literally the biggest (for lack of better word) Tsundere. Like Top three in anime. Like you got 1.Kageyama 2.Sasuke 3. Him. Like manz would rather die than say he cares. His love language is quality time and gift giving, so he’s more show you he loves you, but won’t say it first. The kinda mf that when you say I love you to them say, “Yeah I know, I love me too if only there was someone out there who loved you.” Like manz is so obvious I wanna kiss him to shut him the fuck up. (I think I have a type.) like bro the me love you tf?

In terms of icks there is one thing I no for fact. This mf wears socks to bed. And not the cute fluffy kind. The musty ass crusty socks he wore all day, then stepped in water, and now you gotta deal with it while yall cuddling. I hate this mf.

On a more serious note, because of his Bonten Bs, he doesn’t have a lot of time for us. So we make time. His time. We just barge in during his meetings, lay across his lap, watch TikTok’s, while everyone (him) are just looking like “is this bitch serious!?” >:|

Anyways, because he’s so busy all the time, the majority of what he wants to do when he gets home is just to sprawl out on the couch and just stay there. You can cuddle with him too or whatever he doesn’t mind🙄. But fair warning, he’s the kinda dude who is only ever in the mood for either ww2 documentary’s or like deep sea documentary’s. Like mf has the same movie taste as my dad, I can’t with him. It’s a good day when you can convince him to try something actually entertaining. And you know what he picks? The Fucking exorcist. He’s an asshole. The kinda dude to pretend he’s unfazed, but his left leg physically won’t stop shaking.

speaking of movies, I know I say this every time, but scream Halloween costumes. Yes. Give me Rinny as ghostface please, I’ll freaking sell my soul. Especially if it’s not the robe but one of the like dry fit and leather harness- *incomprehensible pterodactyl noises* 🥵

anyway back to cuddling, his go to position is literally the Hakari and Kirara thing. Like this mf will always have a hand on your ass. He doesn’t like PDA but this? Yeah you can’t stop him. He is an ass guy, it’s just where his hand naturally gravitates.

I cannot explain the urge to play daddies home by usher every time I see him. Like he and my baby daddy Gojo have partial custody over that song. Like bro. Yes.

Tbh I don’t see him having a big wedding. Or any wedding. I think his thing would be just handing you his debit card and saying “pick some shit out. No, don’t worry bout the price I’m rich for a reason.” And after that yall just elope to some tropical place across the planet for like a month.

speaking of travel it’s a pretty common thing for you. Just that it’s always last minute. Like bro don’t even give you time to brag to the your friends. Man just pulls up 10 minutes before y’all need to go to the airport and says, “get ready, we’re going to France. How long? Idk a month? Boo hoo bitch. Stay home then. Mhm that’s wtf k thought”. Manz is such an ass but you gotta love a walking wallet.

My last thought I’m gonna share is how he physically won’t use nicnames. Like babe is the physically most he can bring himself to do. Maybe baby. He gives himself the ick every time he thinks of doing anything else

all in all, he’s the one who is always there for you, and expects the same. He’s a great guy, under all the stress and yakuza bs. Treat him well, or I’ll treat him better😤

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ sorry this took me so long to write, I’m working on another request too, and more importantly, my final exams for collage, love that. But even do, if you liked this, please like and request something, and I will definitely be posting. Love y’all so much, I’ll see yall later.

#tokyo revengers x reader #toko Revengers #tokyo revengers #tokrev timeskip #ran haitani #rindou haitani #Rindou x reader #rindou x you #tokrev rindou #tokrev headcanons #request #haikyuu #tokrev fluff

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hannahssimblr · 23 hours

Text

“Nobody better be kissing in here,” she announces when we meet her at a cafe a stone's throw from Christchurch Cathedral. She arrives after a haircut, short, cut all the way up to her ears and a hand performatively shielding her gaze.

We ignore her. “Jen! Your hair!”

“I hate it,” she announces, “I think I look stupid.”

“No, you don’t,” Michelle insists as she slumps into a seat across from us, “It’s chic.”

“Chic? I don’t think I’m capable of being chic. I feel like I have nothing to hide behind anymore, you know? Now I’m all just face.”

“Well, you have a nice face anyway. Lucky you.”

Jen grunts, “thanks.”

“You know whose hair it’s like?” I say, trying to be helpful, “Emma Watson. You know how she’s done the whole hair-like-a-boy thing ever since she finished up on Harry Potter?”

Michelle frowns at me.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” says Jen, “but this haircut does not make me look like Emma Watson.” she grabs the menu from the table and skims it with disinterest, “I don’t want to talk about hair. It will grow out eventually, please, tell me about your NCAD interviews. How did they go?”

Michelle gets right into it, regaling her with the full story from start to finish, how Ida and Paul looked at her when she came into the room, the manner in which they unzipped her portfolio, the questions they asked, the way they made her feel, while I sit humming along sympathetically, hoping that if I stay invested in what Michelle is saying then I won't be asked to describe my experience.

“And you, Jude?” Jen says, “Did you find them to be dickheads too?”

“Uh, yeah totally,” I say, “it was fairly uncomfortable alright.”

She looks at Michelle, “He’s lying.”

“I’m not!”

“You are! I bet it went so incredibly well that you feel awkward about telling us, look!” she stabs a finger in my direction, “his face, he’s an awful liar, see how his eye twitches like that? It’s his tell. I would know.”

“I’m not-” I grab hold of Michelle’s knee and squeeze it, “I’m not lying, it went the same for me as it did for you.”

I glare at Jen. Can’t she see that I’m just doing damage control? The last thing I want to do is upset my girlfriend. As sensitive as she is already, I feel the knowledge of what happened inside that interview room would send her into a spin for the whole day. Jen wrinkles her nose and sticks her pointy little tongue out at me.

“NCAD isn’t our preference anyway,” I continue insistently, “We’ve done our interviews for Paris, next week is Munich and Berlin, then Amsterdam and London. This is really, like, a last resort, but something will work out for us.”

Jen raises her eyebrows, “Germany? Michelle, you can’t speak German.”

“Yeah but I’d learn.”

“Exactly, and if we end up going to France then I’ll learn French.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of learning on top of what you’re already doing, isn’t it? You sure you’ll be able for all that?”

Michelle clutches hold of my hand, “We’ll make it work no matter what,” she says, and I can't tell if it's a statement, a question, or an order.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2010 #college talk weeeee #Jen is so cute with short hair i missed her like this

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seventh-fantasy · 2 days

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top 5 dihua moments

HELLO ohhh goddd if i really really really have to pick... I'LL TRY (in tears)

in chronological order of the episodes:

(1) “你这个人最大的弱点就是喜欢当英雄。一个剑客不该有弱点。” your greatest weakness is that you like being a hero. a swordsman should be without weaknesses. (ep 1)

i'm as in love with the entire donghai scene as much as the next person but this dialogue is particularly special to me. so it was the first one i pinned down for this list. no hesitation. :)

it's a cornerstone of dihua's relationship; the thesis of lxy/llh's and their joint narrative. it prompts the deconstruction of the staple wuxia ideas of 侠 xia and heroism - which is what i really love lhl for. and dfs being the one to deliver this incredibly crucial and significant line is 10/10. he knew lxy even better than lxy did. he is the bearer and catalyst of lhl's story, lxy/llh's story.

"your greatest weakness is that you like being a hero. a swordsman should be without weaknesses." so what does it even mean to be a hero. is it more important to be a hero than being human. and i will become human. i am human and always have been. and i have weaknesses - i cannot win against fate, i am dying. but what ever is even wrong with being weak? being human is to have weaknesses. so i guess it's no wonder for the narrative to come in a full circle with dfs coming in possession of a weakness and be trapped in it. no longer the killer of di fortress. he's just a human being.

and llh bringing this up again in ep 11 feels to me that he had been carrying these words with him over the past 10 years. bicha and the battle have transformed him physically. but i like to think that dfs's words had an important role to play in an even deeper level of change.

all it took was this one scene to sell to me that this would probably be the kind of narrative i love.

(2) reunion in the woods (ep 8)

it's just so fucking good like literally every dihua scene. who doesn't love a good post-divorce first meeting scene. there's just a lot to chew on. most of all, llh just had to keep reminding dfs how well he knew dfs. we know the moon has always been this bright, alright. AND they were threatening each other. very sexy of them.

(3) whatever the heck was going between them in cailianzhuang arc (ep 11)

truly nothing brings out old married couple + parents vibes better than an inquisitive boy accusing you two of being up to something secretive behind his back. both their guilty expressions. :3 also dfs being the first person huahua goes to when he doesn't want to be alone. huahua being exceptionally chatty around dfs and dfs has no problem entertaining him. :3 they're totally on the same wavelength without having to say anything to each other and this arc brings it out so well.

(4) 腊月二十七 donghai anniversary wedding night (ep 38)

this is the last one i came up for the list after fighting a whole war in my mind over which 5 of the 100000 beloved scenes to pick. hate being predictable but. you just HAVE to give it to it. how do you NOT pick this for a top 5. all the 10 million other top 5 dihua scenes just had to make space for the anniversary scene. :'(

if i had to be even more specific, i think the scene of them in bed most likely takes the cake for me. llh literally saved dfs's life and helped him to become the stronger person he has always wanted to be. and perhaps no other moment exhibits the complementary yin and yang nature of their powers/energies in a more illustrative and palpable way. undershirts in bed just hits different from being fully clothed and one person literally having to keep the other person alive by touch...and this time it's llh for dfs despite the whole time it's dfs who was dedicated to keep llh alive. they have no lack of scenes that exhibit how in sync they are intellectually, and this is peak physical intimacy and tenderness, added with a brush with death/mortality yeah...

(5) llh/lxy's farewell to dfs (ep 40)

playing cheat here by combining two different moments :) but they are essentially connected. llh/lxy had to leave. and since it really had to be that way, i'm glad dfs was on his mind until the very end. what more can one ask for. there is really nothing more dear and tender in the world to be thought of

tl;dr: /blows kisses to every dihua moment

#anon idk why u did this to me but i love you. and thank you for the ask <3 my head exploded from doing the curation exercise <3 #i also have a couple of other specific scenes i wanted to call out but there's just no more room sighs #idk my answers are leaning mostly to the earlier arcs also bc those are the ones ive been rewatching most lately.#come back in 2 months maybe lmao. repeat until every dihua scene is listed lol #莲花楼 #mysterious lotus casebook #lhl #dihua #my posts #asks #anon

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justmeinadaze · 17 hours

Text

Take It Out On Me Part 27 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

Warning: Soft Doms Daddy Steve and Sir Eddie & Sub Fem Plus Size Y/N, SMUT, dirty talk, a bit softer than the norm with these two but she's preggo so lol FLUFF, they love her and the little one. We find out the gender and get a name for da baby.

ANGST, Steve's dad makes an asshole cameo, the three of them confront the other parents to tell them reader is pregnant. Those are the biggies. Not my normal level of angst :)

Word Count: 4696

Series here/ Donate to my Ko-Fi <3

“Hey guys. Thank you for coming and please have a seat.”, Steve instructs your parents as he gestures towards the couch where Wayne was already waiting.

“Okay…is everything alright?”, your mother asks in a worried tone.

“Yeah, everything’s ok, Mrs. Y/L/N.”, Eddie answers as he sits in one of the chairs they placed on either side of yours.

The three of you came up with a game plan since the last time all the parents were addressed it didn’t end well. You were going to do the bulk of the speaking when it came to your parents but if they addressed one of the boys or reacted as they had before, Eddie and Steve would take over to promptly end the conversation. They weren’t going to allow you to be hurt again especially after your hospital visit.

Now they had two lives they needed to look after and protect.

Once your mom and dad were seated, you smiled as you handed your mom a little envelope and back away to take a seat near your protectors.

No one says a word as she opens the paper and pulls out its contents. Your eyes close as you physically prepare for the fallout and you hear your mother heavily exhale.

“You’re pregnant?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“H-How? I don’t…I thought you were on the pill? At least…I mean…you told me you were.”

Your father cringes at your mom’s words as he continues to process what he’s hearing.

“I am…was…Before we went to Italy, we had an incident where they needed to switch the birth control. The nurse told us to wait a week but my doctor said that was wrong.”

“What?!”, your mother and Wayne exclaimed at the same time causing you to recoil a bit.

Steve petted your head to calm you, assuring you everything was still alright.

“That’s more than just being wrong, sweetheart. Jesus, what is your doctor doing? Did she fire that nurse?”, Eddie’s uncle asked with what you could immediately tell was genuine concern.

“She said she was going to talk to her—”

“She needs to more than that! I’ll go down there and talk to them myself—”

As you folded more into yourself, Eddie glanced at Steve ready to jump in; the other boy agreeing.

“Mrs. Y/L/N, please, with all due respect we need everyone here to be calm—”

“And how do we do that, Steven?”, your father asked sharply. “This is a pretty big fucking deal.”

“Well, you better fucking figure it out because we’ve already had one scare that put her in the hospital and it won’t happen again!”, Eddie growled.

“What?! I don’t…what happened…why didn’t anyone call us!? Edward, she’s our daughter!”

“And she’s our wife!” Everyone became silent at the metalhead’s outburst as he blinked realizing what he said. “Girlfriend…she’s our girlfriend…That we have never abandoned but you have. WE needed to make sure she was safe first.”

“Is the baby ok?”, Wayne asked, breathing a sigh of relief when you nodded.

“She panicked and, again, for fear of how people would react tried to break up with us. She was so stressed…she was in pain…”, Steve relays as his jaw tightens hating the memory.

“So, I’m assuming because this was an accident you don’t know who’s the father?”, your dad asked as he stood up and began pacing.

“Please don’t call my baby an accident.”, you whimper.

“He’s OURS and we love him.”, Eddie announced making you smile softly.

“Could they get a sex?”

“Oh, no, Wayne, it’s still too early. I’d call that parent’s intuition.”, you mom responds flashing a grin his way.

“Ok, Bev, I’m trying really hard but I need to be the reality check here. She just graduated college, Steve works at a video store, Eddie works at a record store. How are they going to take care of a child?”

“Mr. C offered to let me continue interning for him and then next school year I could teach if the principal still wants to hire me.”

“Robin and I have a plan together for the non-profit. We actually have meetings with investors within these next couple of months.”

“That’s amazing, Steve.”, Eddie’s uncle praises making the boy smile in appreciation. “And you, Ed? Last I spoke with you, you were working to get recording time.”

“Yeah, the guys and I have a lot of money saved. We’re hoping within the next month we can get something out. Funds have slowed a bit since I started putting money aside for Y/N.”

“What about the birth certificate? You both can’t put your names on there.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

“Oh, Steven? Have you already crossed the bridge of your feelings about how this child is going to have one of your genes? How it might cause animosity that this kid looks a bit more like one man than the other? How it could drive you crazy to NOT know.”

Eddie steps forward squaring his shoulder as he comes toe to toe with your father.

“That’s OUR kid. I don’t care if he’s biologically mine or Steve’s. As long as he’s happy and healthy…as long as he knows BOTH his father’s love him…no matter what. I don’t fucking care.”

The other man places his palm on his friend’s chest to calm him, pushing him back towards you.

“Are you going to tell Bill?”, your mom inquires. “With the way he reacted about Y/N, I’m sure he’ll take this well.”, she says sarcastically.

“I wasn’t going to say anything. They haven’t been in my life for over 4 years.”

“I know, baby, but you should give them the chance. At least your mom…”

“I’d go with you but your dad placed a restraining order on me.”, your father sighs as he places his hands on his hips. “Don’t laugh at me, Beverly.”

“I can’t help it, Robert.”

“Are you mad at me?” Your voice cuts through the room as both boys back up so you can see your parents.

“No, honey. We aren’t mad. We’re just concerned but like Mr. Munson here we want our daughter to be happy and healthy.”, your mother coos as she gets up to hug you tightly to her.

############

“Ok, so tell me again what else you need?”, Masie asks as you two browse the baby section of the store you two were walking around.

“The most expensive thing we need is a crib. Besides that, um, a stroller, a car seat…my mom said we can’t have enough bottles.”, you giggle. “I was thinking for the baby’s room, maybe, we could do like a Wizard of Oz thing. Wayne told me a story about how that book always comforted Eddie.”

“I can do that. Did they have a preference or…”

“No, they said I should just do whatever I wanted.”, you giggle.

It had been a couple of months since you guys talked to your parents and the reality of everything was beginning to set in. The first time you felt him move you cried for an hour scaring the boys to death.

“Is…is this normal?”, Steve asked as he petted your head.

“Yeah, I’m just so happy. We’re having a baby.”, you sob.

“Oh, sweetheart.”, Eddie chuckles as he pulls you to his chest.

“What do you think, little dude? Do you want bottles with lions or elephants?”, Masie inquires as she leans down to speak directly to your tummy making you laugh harder. “Both? Sounds good.”

“Maze—”

“Nope. I won’t hear it. I’m buying these for my new little best friend.”

“Your nephew.”, you correct. Your best friend pauses as she straightens up and her eyes meet your own. “Masie, you’ve been with me since kindergarten and through all of my chaos. You’re my sister and I love you.”

She wraps her arms around your neck, kissing your cheek when she finally pulls away.

The sudden sound of glass breaking catches your attention as you both turn towards the noise coming face to face with Mrs. Harrington’s wide-eyed expression. Without addressing you, she abruptly swivels around, dropping everything in her hands as she powerwalks out of the store.

***

Steve was already pacing in the living room mentally preparing himself when the sound of loud banging on the front door echoed through the house.

After kissing his lips, you and Eddie backed away to allow him to take control as he casually began opening the door to his home. Before he could do anything about it, his father burst through uninvited, huffing as his wild eyes landed on you.

“How dare you, you little whore!”

As he began charging your way, the metalhead pushed you behind him as Steve slid between him and his father to cut him off.

“No. If you want to talk we can talk but you will NOT speak to her like that.”

“I’ll speak to her any way I see fit! I’ve put up with this farse long enough, Steven. This is not a relationship, you three aren’t married, and that bastard doesn’t belong to you both!”

Before anyone could do anything about it, the younger Harrington’s fist flew knocking his father to the floor.

“Eddie…”, you whispered in fear, gripping his arm.

He could feel the worry you had for them practically radiating from you and his protective mode instantly kicked in.

“Don’t move.”, he commanded, stepping forward to place himself beside his friend. “Get out.”, Eddie growled as he yanked Mr. Harrington to his feet and shoved him towards the door.

“You’re done, son. I’m cutting you off. No more installments into your account, no more inheritance from me or your mother. Nothing, do you hear me, NOTHING will go to that thing. I don’t care if it is biologically yours.”

“Fine. I don’t need anything from you, Bill. You both weren’t there for the worst moment in my life. What makes you think I’d want you there for the best? I can’t wait to be father so I can be nothing like you. Now…GET…OUT!”

As soon as his father left, you wrapped your arms around Steve’s waist and clung to him as his arms remained at his sides.

“Are you alright, man?”, Eddie asked as he came up beside you both.

You could feel it coming off his agitated frame as your cheek rose and fell with each heavy breath of his chest. He was furious.

He was angry that his father was despicable and continued to hurt him even now. He was pissed that anyone, let alone his own blood called his baby that he already loved so much a ‘bastard’ and a ‘thing’. Steve felt betrayed by his mother who immediately ran to her husband knowing how he’d react without coming to speak with him herself. He wanted to kill him for disrespecting you and even THINKING he could charge at you to lay his hands on you.

But more than anything, he was hurt that both his parents still didn’t seem to give a damn about him or his happiness.

Tilting back, your palms cup his face as he continues to look past you into the void.

“Daddy, baby, look at me.”

It took him a few seconds and some more soft murmurs before his eyes glassy eyes met yours.

“I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve the bullshit he puts you through. I know you’re a good man and I have no doubt you’ll be an amazing father.” When his forehead presses against yours, you feel his breathing begin to calm. “It’s ok, honey. You can still use me.”

Glancing towards Eddie, he waits for his friend to give him a nod letting him know he thought it would be ok. You three were still intimate but it was much softer than before. They didn’t want to trigger another episode or hurt you too much even after getting the ok from your doctor.

Since that point a lot had happened and all of you were just genuinely too exhausted to do anything more than cuddle.

Lifting you into his arms, Steve carried you to the bedroom and laid you on your back horizontally across the mattress. After tearing away your clothes, he opened your legs wide and spit into your cunt before falling onto his side next to you and sliding his arm under your head for you to use as a pillow. On impulse you raised one of your legs in the air and his heavy breathing warmed your cheek as he guided his cock inside of you.

As his fingers dug into your thigh, he set a rough pace as he absorbed the feeling of being inside you like this again. Glancing to your other side, you watched as Eddie came around the bed and knelt down by your head. Your fingers reached for him but he shook his head as he tenderly took hold of both sides of yours and turned it till you were facing the other man.

“He needs you right now, sweetheart.”, he whispered in your ear as he gently played with your hair that hung over the end of the mattress.

“Mmm—feels so good, Sir.”

“Yeah, baby? You’re going to cum already? It’s been a while since we’ve been able to take care of you, huh.”

Steve abruptly pulls out of you and shuffles around till you feel his tongue rapidly flick your clit as two of his fingers thrust in and out of your core.

“Fuck! Daddy, please.”

Placing your hand on the back of his head, you hold him to you as your back arches off the bed and you cum, groaning as he drank you in.

“Color, baby?”

“Green, Sir…Fuck…”

After taping your pussy with his length and making you twitch at the feeling, he slides himself inside of you again, stretching your leg up his chest so he could cling to your thigh for leverage as he pounded into you.

Eddie continued to gently kiss your forehead, cheek, or any other part of your skin he could reach with his lips.

“Right there, Daddy. Just like that. Fuck, I love you so much.”

Steve’s pace suddenly slowed and your eyes locked as he blinked as if coming back into the moment. Dropping your leg to the side, you promptly wrapped it around his waist as he leaned down till his head was by your ear.

“I’m not…too heavy…am I?”, he panted.

“No, Daddy. You feel perfect against me.”

“I love you, Y/N. I’m so s-sorry for how my family treats you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Threading your fingers in his hair, you held him as tightly as you could as you rolled your hips underneath him encouraging him to continue.

“It’s ok, Steve. All—All I care about is how they make you feel. I’m sorry—fuck—I’m sorry they can’t see what an amazing man you are.” Finding his rhythm again, the bed began to subtly shake as his cock abused your g-spot. “Oh my god. Just like that, Daddy.”

With Eddie having long moved out of the way, Steve’s palm clung to the sheets next to your head as he groans.

“Fuck, baby. You wanna cum with Daddy?”

Nodding your head, your nails drag down his back as your pussy quivers around him and the coil snaps. Grunting at the feeling, he slowed his movements but not his intensity as he slammed his seed inside of your cunt.

“Good girl. Shit, you feel so good. Do…Do you need anything?”

“Water.”

“10 steps ahead of you, sweetheart. Here, sit up and drink this.”, Eddie instructs as he hands you a glass that you knock back. “Whoa, whoa. Babe, you’re going to throw up. Slow down.”

“Thirsty.”

“Jesus, Steven. Fucking fucked the vocabulary out of our girl here.”

You and Steve giggle as he takes your cup and leaves to get you more.

“Can we take a bath? I’m a little sore.”

“Yeah, honey, of course.”

Carefully guiding you out of bed, the former jock fills the tub with warm water as the metalhead comes back with more for you to drink.

“Slow, baby. Good girl.”

As soon as everything is ready and the bathroom is smelling like sand on a beach, Steve takes your hand and helps you in, placing himself behind you as he cleans you and gently massages your lower back.

When he abruptly pauses you can’t help but giggle when you take hold of his palm and move it back over your tummy.

“He loves you both. Every time you talk or touch me, he does a little dance.” Eddie sits on the floor outside the tub and places his hand beside Steve’s. “Say something.”

“Listen, little rockstar, I know you’ve heard a lot of craziness out here but I promise it won’t be that chaotic. Whoa.”, he breathes when something pushes up towards them. “We love you, dude.”

##################

“Ok, are we all ready to find out what this baby is?!”, Masie shouts from her spot at the end of the table in your backyard.

Today was the afternoon of the baby shower and you were so grateful for everyone that came. You half expected people to treat you differently but just like your reception you threw for the boys so many people came to celebrate this new milestone with you.

Your family from New York surprised you by coming down to see you, the family, and what the new edition would be. Your uncle loved Masie, helping her get things together for the party and decorating. Your parents and Eddie’s mother came as well with her little ones which the metalhead loved watching you interact with.

As Wayne held the string to lift the pinata that read “The Baby Is…” off the ground, you gave the large bat to one of his half-sisters and spun her around making her giggle. Robin and Mr. C stood as far out of the way as possible enjoying the view but trying not to get whacked in the process.

“Op! You have to swing harder than that!”

With one final hard hit your mouth fell open in shock as pink confetti and candy hit the ground.

While everyone cheered, your eyes met theirs as they smiled and shrugged.

“I guess we’re having a girl!”, Steve beams as he comes around to give you a hug.

***

You giggle from your spot at the sink as you continue to wash some of the dishes from that evening. Steve said he just needed a minute to rest and the next thing you knew, you heard him snoring on the couch with his arm slung over his eyes.

“I’m telling you. Kid sleeps like a rock.”, Eddie grins as he enters the room and tosses some trash into the bag nearby. “Did you have a good day, sweetheart?”

“I did. It was nice to have some fun without all the drama we’ve been dealing with. What about you?”

“Yeah, I had a good day to. My favorite part was watching you with my siblings. You’re going to be an amazing mom.” The way he said that gave you pause as you turned off the facet and dried your hands. “I know we always talk about how Steve and I aren’t going to be like our dads but I hope you know that even though you love your family very much there are some things that will be different and that’s ok, baby.”

Blinking back your emotions, you wrap your arms around him as he lifts you off your feet.

“I don’t want her to ever feel unloved.”, you murmur into his chest making him smile as he tilts back your head to kiss your lips.

“She won’t because her mom and dads already love her so much. I can’t wait to meet her. I’m going to show her Dio and Judas and—ow!”, he teases when you lightly smack his chest. As you turn to head back to the sink, he tugs on your wrist bringing you back in front of him. “We, um, we haven’t talked about it yet but… I know…the titles…you don’t have to use them anymore…”

Taking a hold of his chin, you lift his face till his eyes meet your own and he doesn’t know if you can tell but he appreciates the softness behind them.

“Do you want me to stop using them?”

“I mean…NO but…”, Eddie chuckles nervously. “It’s not like you can call me and him that stuff in front of a kid.”

“Yeah… but I can do it when we’re alone.” Pressing your lips to his, he groans against your kiss as your palm slides down his chest, past his stomach, to the bulge in his jeans. “You’re always going to be my Master and Steve will always be my Daddy. Even when I use your names those titles don’t fade. I’m yours, baby.”

“You are, pretty girl. Fuck.”

“You can use me to, Sir, if you need me. It’s been so long since I felt you inside me.”

“I—mmm—are you sure? You’ve been on your f-feet all day.”

Grinning, you lean forward to trail soft kisses along his chin, jaw, and up to his ear.

“Then sweep me off them.”

That’s all the confirmation he needs as he takes ahold of your head in both hands and crashes his lips back to yours. You have no clue where he’s taking you as he starts walking you backwards till you bump into the table. Hastily, he unbuttons your pants, sliding them down your legs with your panties and kicking them aside.

Eddie effortlessly lifts you onto the flat surface and as he fumbles with his belt you suck that sweet spot on his neck that you know drives him crazy. Giggling as he stumbles out of his jeans, he smiles as he licks his palm and strokes his cock a few times before effortlessly sheathing himself inside you.

Resting his forehead against the nook between your neck and shoulder, you mewled as you felt his jaw fall open and his breathy moans warm your skin. Your hands cupped one of his cheeks just below his ear, pressing him to you while the other clung to his own shoulder as your arm rested behind his neck.

“Just like that. Oh my god.”

“I know, baby. Fuck me. I know exactly where that spot is inside you. Right…here…”

At his last couple of words, Eddie slammed his hips into your own making you cry out as his cock perfectly hit that sensitive spot inside you.

“You’re going to have to learn to be a lot quieter, princess.”, he chuckles as you smirk.

After giving you a quick kiss, he guides you till your back is flat against the table and he takes hold of your legs, pulling you closer to the edge as he holds both limbs up with his strong arms under your knees. When his eyes meet yours, you already know what he wants, even giving you a helping hand as a long line of spit falls from his mouth onto your clit.

As your fingers come down to rub his saliva into your bundle of nerves, Eddie bites his bottom lip to stifle a loud groan of his own as his pace hastens.

“Fuck, Y/N. You look so fucking beautiful like this.”

A string of repetitive uhs fall from your mouth as the surface shakes underneath you.

“Shit. Talk to me, sweetheart. I wanna hear you.”

“God…I’m…you’re gonna make me cum. Please…Please, Sir, cum with me.”

Chasing both your highs, the metalhead pounded into you till he felt you tremble and your pussy squeeze his cock like a vice.

“That’s it, baby! Good girl. F-Fucking good girl.”, he praised as his rhythm faltered and he coated your insides with his release. “Fuck…are you ok, babe?”

Still trying to catch your breath, you nod and give him a thumbs up that makes him laugh through his teeth. Taking hold of your arms, he playfully lifts you up to a sitting position and pulls you into him for a hug.

“What about you, Daddy? You ok?”

Steve chuckles as he sits up and peaks his head over the back of the couch.

“Jesus, woman. I swear you have superhero levels of hearing. Yeah, I’m alright, honey.”

After helping you to the floor, Eddie took off your shirt and started walking you down the hall to the bathroom as Steve followed leaving his pants unbuttoned, holding them up with his hands.

“I heard you trying to hide your moans. I know what you touching yourself sounds like.”

“Witch.”

“I’m not a witch, I’m your wife!”, you laugh as you stick out your tongue. “We should show her that movie all the time…The Princess Bride. It’s so good.”

Something flashes across Eddie’s face only for a moment before he grins at you both and steps into the shower bringing you with him.

“Hey. What was that? What passed through you mind?”

“Nothing, princess. It’s silly.”

After brushing some of his damp hair away from his eyes, you cup his face in your hands.

“Tell me.”

His chocolate eyes flicked to Steve behind you as he stepped into the tub before sighing and shrugging his shoulders.

“I want to refer to you as my wife. OUR wife. Obviously I already feel that way…fucking saying it without even thinking. Add in the fact that you’ve been with us for 5 years, through fucking everything and now you’re about to the mother of our child. I just… I don’t know. Maybe I’m being too sappy or cliché.”

“Eddie, baby. It’s a piece of paper we don’t need—”

“I know. I was just saying.”

“Can I talk?”, you giggle.

“I don’t know. Give it a try.”, he teases making your grin grow.

“I was going to SAY…It’s a piece of paper we don’t need because like you said we’ve been together through everything and we’re adding to our family. Eddie, if you want to tell people I’m your wife…tell them. Fuck what the assholes of this town think.”

Steve’s arms wrap around you from behind as he kisses your shoulder while the metalhead trails small pecks from your forehead down to your lips.

After cleaning you up and drying you off, Eddie curls up against the headboard and fiddles with your hair while the other boy lays on his back in front of you both browsing through a book someone had given as a gift filled with baby names.

“We should name her after one of the elves in Lord of the Rings.”

“No, no. You are not giving our baby a nerdy name like Frido or something.”

At Eddie’s exasperated sigh and Steve’s mispronunciation you spit the water you had been drinking back into your glass as you laugh hard.

“Look what you’ve done now, Steven. You’re killing the woman we love.”

“Shut up. What about you, honey? Any suggestions?”

“Um…”, you hum as you think for a moment before something pops into your head. “What about Molly?”

The pretty boy pouts out his lips in amusement as he and the metalhead nod.

“How’d you come up with that?”

“The Breakfast Club.”, you whine as your voice cracks in embarrassment and you cover your face with your hands.

“No! No, baby, don’t hide. You definitely have to break that down a bit.”, Eddie jests as he pulls at your wrists so they can see you.

“We met in detention… The first time I saw it with Maze it made me think of us. Steve is the jock Emilio Estevez who had problems with his father and being popular. Eddie would be Judd Nelson’s bad boy with an asshole family and a school system that didn’t seem to care. I’d be Ally Sheedy’s weirdo feeling ignored by her family… Molly Ringwald is the princess and since Ed already calls her that…just made me think…Molly.”

Crawling up the length of your body, Steve kisses your lips and then your stomach before falling beside you as Eddie did the same.

“I like that name. Molly.”

“Molly Munson-Harrington.”

#############

@manda-panda-monium @sherrylyn628 @eddiesguitarskills

@needylilgal022 @local-stoner-bitch @katethetank @nailbatanddungeon

@sidthedollface2 @justanotheryn @pedropascalslilbaby

@marsupiooo @mandyjo8719 @bexreadstoomuch

@chelebelletx @perdopascalslilbaby @shayeddie @anaibis

@wroteclassicaly @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

@siriuslysmoking @raptorbait529 @miarosso @micheledawn1975

@paleidiot @mrsjellymunson @dashingdeb16

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egonspenglerishot · 1 day

Note

can i request Egon Spengler x reader where reader is a scientist and has a ghost in their lab? Reader talks very technical (similar to Egon) and maybe the other ghostbusters struggle to understand what they are talking about, but reader ends up correcting Egon on something and he’s just smitten? (i have a head-cannon that Egon loves it when he’s challenged scientifically)

Hehehehehe YES

“What. Just. Happened-“

Egon x scientist!reader

Warnings: eh it gets a bit…suggestive.

A silent groan escaped your lips as you looked up. The phantasm was still persisting with its tricks. You picked up the phone and dialed the Ghostbusters number, answering the receptionists questions. When assured you they were on their way, you put the phone down and took a few samples of the sticky residue that dripped from your book shelf. Maybe this could be useful.

You set the sample in a safe place and straightened your jacket out. Being a Doctor of Parapsychology and Science you knew this was atleast a class 4. You picked up your copy of Tobins Spirit Guide and began looking through, though it seemed the phantasm wasn’t in said Guide. You hummed as a knock on the door grabbed your attention. You opened the door and there they were, The Ghostbusters. You stepped aside to let them in and rolled your eyes at Peter Venkmans poor poor attempt at flirting. You brushed him off and turned to Ray Stantz. You’d seen his work before “The phantasm isn’t in Tobins, I checked. It seems to be a class 4. It has all the traits of a class 4, slightly more aggressive bordering on a class 5”

Ray and Peter looked at eachother with raised eyebrows then back at you. You’d turned your back to them, looking for something in a drawer. You pulled out a Geiger counter and ran if I’ve the slime as Egon Spengler was going over your office with a PKE meter. You hummed and took a mental note of the readings on the Geiger counter. Ray cleared his throat “have you seen the phantasm miss? Could you describe it?” You hummed and looked at him “I have seen it, a large, red mass of ectoplasm and anger. It has no facial features as far i saw, it had no legs but shoe stubby arms and it squealed like a pig” you out the counter down and looked at Egon who was currently scanning you.

“She’s right Ray, if the readings on the PKE are anything to go by, it’s definitely a boarding on being a level 5 phantasm, a nasty one at that” Egon looked at Ray then the others. Peter looked at them confused “Egon…for one moment pretend that I don’t know anything about parapsychology and dumb it down for me?” You rose a brow and snapped Tobins spirit guide shut making all four of them jump. “Well Dr Venkman, as you are so clueless, let me enlightened you. The big red blob is causing havoc in my office. It is disrupting my work and research, now I am a fellow doctor of Parapsychology and Science. So I’m sure you can share the sentiment of hating being disturbed!”

Peter flinched and looked at Winston and Ray before shrugging “we can’t guarantee that your office will still be in one piece when we have caught said phantasm” Ray told you and you rolled your eyes “okay” you grabbed your research and Tobins, leaving the room. A few hours later the boys walked out holding a smoking trap .

“You were right. A level 4 bordering on 5” Egon nodded at you and you didn’t even look up “I know. Is that it? How much did you destroy?” Egon looked at Ray and rolled his eyes “luckily your office is unscathed your coworkers offices however…not so much” you stood up and snapped your book shut. “How much do you want? And make it quick I have research to be doing” Egon looked at Peter and he gave his signature poor flirty smile. “How does 4,000 sound hm?” You pulled out your cheque book and wrote it for 4000 before ripping it out and giving it to Egon. “I was wondering if you would like to work together, you said you’re a Dr of Parapsychology. The ectoplasm is seemingly negatively charged so I would like to run some tests”

You rose a brow and looked at him “Well it’s actually neutral until exposed to outside elements such as my anger toward Dr Venkman and I’m going to suppose Dr Venkmans annoyance at his poor flirting tactics” the room went silent and Egon pushed his glasses up gently. He looked down hiding his bright red face, god you were perfect.

Winston looked between you, Egon and the other two and rose a brow “What. Just. Happened-“

#ghostbusters two #ghostbusters x reader #ghostbusters 1989 #ghostbusters egon spengler #egon spengler headcanon #egon spengler x reader

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incorrect-spideytorch · 3 days

Text

So, I’ve been thinking a lot about spideytorch lately (as I am one to do) and a question popped into my head:

What is the most important spideytorch comic panel?

There’s a ton of great options in my opinion, but I think there also is an answer (at least for me) so now I am going to subject all of you to my thought process. Get ready for a way to long post breaking this down.

The most obvious starting point has to be this classic

Johnny Storm is going full house husband for Peter Parker, I mean c’mon! add in the fact that he’s in his undies and the way that he’s leaning over peter… yeah this is a classic. This might be the most famous spideytorch panel out there, but I don’t think it’s the most important one.

Another classic (but more antagonistic?) one takes place, of course, at the usual place.

To me this is peak identity shenanigans and the stuff that fanfics are made of. The betrayal, the heartbreak, the complications that go into the conflicting way these two view identity, oh boy I could talk about that shit for hours, but as an individual moment, it doesn’t really crack most important for me, it needs a bit more affection (they’re very bad at affection sometimes).

Another panel that came to mind very quickly for me is this set.

Johnny literally only had to say his name and Peter knew exactly what he meant and what he needed. This is top tier levels of communication, both between them and from the creators to us. I think this is another one that I could talk about for hours. That being said, it doesn’t feel important enough to me.

A friend in the spideytorch discord server posed this panel as the most important spideytorch moment in the comics.

I’m just gonna put their quote in cause it’s great. “I think this is one of my favorite panels cause Johnny was just speaking generally and Peter was like ‘oh my god! Actual wise words form johnny’ but also, I love that this was a more important moment for Peter than Johnny.” I must say, this entry is extremely important to spideytorch and gave my choice a run for its money. I don’t have a huge reason for not making this one the most important, other than personal taste. For their relationship, this is a key moment and sets them on the path to actually being friends (at least on Peter’s end), but idk it just wasn’t doing it for me.

Another panel I was reminded of thanks to this submission was this moment.

It’s not quite as impactful as the past one by a long shot but I do think it’s important. After being rivals for so long, to see Johnny give a genuine heartfelt compliment to Peter is fantastic (haha). This feels like the other half of the previous set of panels. There we had Johnny encouraging a stranger and here he’s encouraging his friend.

Some other friends in the discord server suggested the moment that Johnny invites Peter over to watch his sex tape (yes this is canon).

(Not pictured, Peter swinging away and saying he needs to take a cold shower). Now I’m not saying that the most important spideytorch moment needs to be serious, but I think this moment might be too unserious to claim that title. This moment was huge for the fanbase because holy shit did, he actually say that, but for their relationship, I just don’t think it was as important as it was to us.

Now I do want to knock out a few honorable mentions that I would hate to miss.

First, this look given to Spidey by Johnny, I mean yeah, he’s in love.

And to balance the lovesick flirty scales I must expose Peter as well.

Next, this heartbreaking moment that basically admits to the audience that Peter’s world becomes chaos when he loses Johnny. That shit hits.

Of course, the moment that gave us the ship name.

A panel that lives in my head rent-free because honestly marvel what were you attempting to convey here other than the fact that Peter really wants to have hate sex with Johnny Storm?

To take us outside of our duo, this quote from Ben Grimm (EDIT: it’s was Peter’s clone Ben Reilly, which honestly only adds more drama), because honestly same.

And of course, I have to include the panel which showed us the first time (on page) that Peter told Johnny he loved him AND gave us canon proof that these two have “date night,” many a fic writer was fed well.

And how could we forget! THE USUAL PLACE! Literally any panel mentioning this is top tier because its so good, like the core of the fandom honestly.

Lastly, before moving on to my own more serious contenders I have to share this parallel that @sciderman shared because I love it.

Now to my serious contenders for the title of most important spideytorch panel (please remember this is all my opinion and I mean no shade). This will be a top 5, but just know some of these rankings are pretty flexible (even flexible with some panels from the beginning), and this question should not be taken as seriously as I am taking it, I am fully aware of that.

Number 5!

So, I know that I discounted the sex tape scene earlier because I didn’t think it was serious enough and it didn’t do enough for their actual relationship, but I had to include this one I’m sorry. A lot of this is personal taste but the implications here are *chefs kiss* The first time I saw this panel was actually on Pinterest with the caption “wait a second, did spider-man and the human torch have sex?” which says it all for me.

Beyond that, this moment also shows how they reach out to each other when they have problems. Strange children show up in Peter’s life and the first person he calls about it is Johnny. Again, this is not the most serious, but I love it. This moment shows the banter of their relationship, how they care about and rely on each other, and also potentially reveals that they’ve had sex. There’s a lot to take in.

Number 4!

I will be honest with you all, this moment is here almost entirely because Ben’s quote lives in my head rent-free. Everyone around them sees how they feel about each other besides them. When they were rivals others could tell they actually liked each other and when they became friends others could tell that it was deeper than that. I think I especially love this panel because it conforms that we’re not crazy for thinking there’s something there but also because Ben specifically cites the way Johnny looks at peter. That is very specific and says a lot. I can’t imagine Ben would say this if the looks Johnny gave Peter were purely platonic, and just ahhhh, there’s so much said here just in one line from Ben. There was of course the Ben moment earlier, which I also love, but something about this one, the more specific phrasing of it I think just shoots it up my rankings a lot.

Number 3!

If you’ve been following me for a while I don’t think this is a surprise at all, I have already done a very in depth post about this panel so I’ll keep my thoughts brief. Red Skull knows that hurting Johnny will hurt Peter, Peter’s Spidey senses go off FOR JOHNNY, and we are given so much angst potential, I love it.

Number 2!

This one is probably a more popular choice than my number one, and I totally get it. The excitement and joy bursting out of Peter when he finally realizes that Johnny is here, he’s real, and he’s alive really gets me. Plus, the added context to the uniform comment being that Johnny literally left Peter his family and his spot on the team in his will. The amount of pure love in this moment and its larger context is abundant, platonic or romantic, it’s there. I feel like everything I could say about this panel has probably been said before, but it is definitely worthy of being the most important spideytorch moment, even if I have one that beats it for me.

Number 1!

For those of you who don’t know, this panel comes from Peter visiting Gwen’s grave and talking to her. That fact alone breaks me in half but then the things he says to her shatter me. Every spider-man fan knows how much Gwen’s death broke Peter, it destroyed him to lose her. Just the fact that Peter admits Johnny brings part of him back is amazing (haha) because that is a hug feat. But then he shatters me even more with his final sentences. After Gwen’s death, we often get a peter who spends too much time as Spidey in order to avoid having to cope with Gwen’s death as Peter, but also as a way to cope with the loss (he’s a complicate man). Spideypool also gets a lot from that arc because of Wade’s reaction to Spider-Man not holding back as much and becoming less of a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and that’s true. The fact that Peter feels like he’s becoming who Spidey is supposed to be again when he’s around johnny is huge! But then! He corrects himself. He’s not Spidey again, he’s Peter. The real person, the man behind the mask, comes back. And then you get the final correction. He’s not just peter again, he’s *Gwen’s* peter again. He is the him that existed with Gwen when he’s with Johnny. That speaks volumes and breaks whatever parts of me are left. How am I expected to read this and not think that Johnny and Peter are soulmates?

Now, I will acknowledge that this is much more of a peter moment than a joint spideytorch moment, much like the moment suggested by discord friend earlier. If that disqualifies it for you as the most important spideytorch panel, I get it. However, for me that doesn’t matter mainly for one key reason. So many classic spideytorch moments show a lot of Johnny having feelings for Peter or making a move on Peter. There have been a lot of times when I’m trying to get a friend into spideytorch, and I feel like I have to clarify that its not as one sided as it seems. Johnny is much more out there with who he is and doesn’t hide his feelings very well (except maybe from himself). So, when we get any spideytorch moment that hones in on peter’s feelings and love for Johnny, that feels so huge to me. This moment alone proves that it isn’t one sided, Peter has deep feelings for Johnny, even if he’s not sure what they are yet, he knows that what they have is special, he wouldn’t be telling Gwen about it otherwise. While it may not be as famous of a spideytorch moment, its an important one, and for me it’s probably the most important one.

Anyway, this has been a way too long post about this topic but if you made it to the end thank you so much! I would love to hear other people’s thoughts on this topic so feel free to share those. Also, just a reminder that these are my opinions, and I am not in charge at all so don’t take it too seriously (unless you want to).

If you’re interested in hearing me, go more in depth on any of these panels (or any other spideytorch panels) shoot me an ask because I could honestly talk in depth for a while about most of these panels and I would love to do so. Thank you again for reading this way to long post and good night spideytorch nation.

#spideytorch #alt descriptions coming soon!#peter parker #johnny storm #peter x johnny #peter parker x johnny storm #mine :)#fantastic four #spider-man #marvel #comics #spideytorch meta #marvel meta #enjoy my chaos

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