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hotheadedhero · 21 days

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Ok question how would the tmnt bros (all 4) react to someone having a crush on them, and they confess, but the turtle rejects at time... but later on he realizes no wait I actually do like them!

But theres already been like a good month or more since the confession and their crush has been sorta avoiding them by hanging out with the other turtle bros and though still being polite, they avoid like being alone with their turtle crush and try to act like they don't have a crush still(but they do)

Sorry if I didn't write the request right! and thanks for your writing I love how you write the turtles!

Frothing at the mouth. No words. Speechless. Thank you so much anon! This request is absolutely amazing and tugged at my heart in all the good ways, you beauty. So glad you like my writing tyty <3 Apologies for the wait btw :] I might have meddled with the idea a bit depending on the turtle but I hope this is the kind of thing you were hoping for! May even make a part 2 continuation because there was just so much to write, this was really a lot of fun so thank you again :P I let fate decide which version to base this on and we got Bayverse!

Rejection, Realisation, and Regret

Warnings: bad language, grovelling turtles for their idiocy, angst with this in mind, oh these boys are some real idiots

Bay Turtles x Reader

Leonardo

Turns you down as gently as he can but it still feels like a sucker punch to the gut. It may sound calloused but he's a ninja, a mutant, a protector before anything else and that includes being someone's boyfriend. With a constructive discussion on the matter, he can only hope that you understand his position. You assured him that you did.

So, then, how is it that he barely gets a conversation in with you these days? And why does that fact burn a hole in his stomach? This pit, although metaphorical, weighs down heavily on him. Assumably, he’s missing one-on-one with a friend until it truly occurs to him just what exactly is going on. There's a lesson to be learned here, he's sure - a saying that goes around as if taken from an ancient script: you don't realise how good you have it until it's gone. You're not gone perse but you make a point of avoiding him individually. As well-mannered as you try to be, he's noticed and he's noticed the hurt in his belly that comes alongside it.

He thought things were okay, that despite the rejection, you would still be able to comfortably continue your friendship without any issues. It seems he managed even to fool himself. Being so caught up in what it means to be one of New York's self-acclaimed protectors, he was completely absentminded to the feelings that had been bubbling up inside him all along. No wonder he's been losing focus on his training as of late. He has attempted to try and talk to you about it but to no avail. Has your heart really been that broken?

For once, he doesn’t know what to do, or what decision should be made. He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place right now. Who's the one person he can turn to at a time like this? Come on. Who else would it be?

"Sensei, you know better than anyone that our position comes with complications. That we as ninjas are sworn to certain oaths.”

"Yes, the duty of yourself and your brothers is indeed a heavy burden. Responsibility comes with risk and consequence as I am sure you are well aware of by now.” Splinter watches his son bow down as he thoughtfully strokes his beard. "However, sensei, rat, master; alongside all of these things, I am foremost a father who wishes to see his sons be happy. You're in love, are you not?"

Leo’s attention quickly turns up from the floor to his master. How had he figured it out? Must be that parental instinct. Either way, he’s thankful for that in some respect. It makes this easier. Less complicated.

The turtle nods and breathes out, "I am, Sensei."

"That's what I thought." His father lays a hand over Leo’s shoulder before it taps him against the side of his head. "Now, what are you waiting for? Talking to me isn't going to change the situation."

Splinter is right. It's high time for him to get out of his funk and strategise the best way to make amends. He can only hope he isn’t too late.

Raphael

Rejects you thinking it was some sick prank curated by his youngest brother or something. There's no way you have a thing for him. He's a mutant and you're a human. How could someone actually be in love with a freak like himself? That's why he blows up in your face when you attempt to pour your heart out to him. Whatever joke you thought would be funny, isn't.

He may have taken things out of proportion. This much is made obvious enough by the poorly thought-out excuses you make just to avoid being alone with him. Yeah, that's right, he thinks. You should feel ashamed for trying to pull a stupid stunt like that, for trying to mess with him. He's standing firm on his self-assurance. Don't think for a second that he's going to lose sleep over what he said that day.

However, life has a very funny way of playing its own game. It all comes to fruition when you're laughing with the leader of the brothers. When your hand landed on his forearm, Raphael was struck with something fierce. The shot of jealousy to his heart almost takes him for a wild spin but he disregards it for typical Leo/Raph rivalry. Until that night, anyway. This man is tossing and turning in bed, ruminating on that sickly feeling in his chest; losing sleep over it. No. Surely not. He isn't in love with you. This isn't something that's been in the making for however long now. So what if you managed to calm him down quicker than anyone else he's ever known? Big whoop if you used to make a point of checking up on him when no one dared to go near him. It’s no big deal that you’d hype him up and cheer him on before each mission.

Fuck. He's been in love with you this whole time, hasn't he? Oh, you have got to be kidding. This was probably the only chance he had at something close to normal in his life and he trampled over it like it was nothing. That's assuming it was even genuinely meant from your end to begin with. He still has his doubts all things considered. Either way, he can’t just sit in bed and wallow in his head all night. He needs some air.

"What crawled up your shell and died?"

Great. He had hoped to get some peace and quiet. Not that this city knows the definition of either word but that isn’t the point.

"Not now, Jones. I ain't in the mood."

Casey's head rolls against his shoulders and he sighs, "Hey, if this is to do with (Y/n) ignoring you, what do you expect? 'Can't just make someone cry and expect things to be okay after without an apology."

Raph's mask slowly descends and hoods over his eyes, those of which are now staring down the detective.

"Oh, shit. You didn't know?"

No. No, he did not. He really made you cry? Why would you-? Ah. Two things smack him up the head at this moment: you meant every word of what you admitted a month ago and he is an absolute asshole. Despite already living in the sewers, he feels like the scum of the Earth.

That's it. No more holding back. No more being chicken. He might have ruined his chance but he can at least try and make things right by you.

Donatello

Aloof. Absolutely aloof and utterly clueless to the fact that you were even trying to admit your feelings for him. Yet, the way that the whole situation plays out makes it seem as though he had denied you. His head is usually stuck in a book or on one of the many screens that litter his quarters. What can you really expect of him? Unfortunately, this isn’t something that comes to mind nor is taken into consideration when you attempt your casual proclamation. With his eyes glued to his computer, his inattentiveness could only be read as uninterest to which you find it’s probably best to withdraw yourself.

In the weeks to come, it still doesn't even occur to him that you were confessing. The only thing that dawns on him from your weirdly abrupt absence is how strange it feels without you around. You still engage in your regular visits to the lair but are always elusive to his corner. Had he missed a memo? He can't quite place a finger on your change in behaviour. Then he realises just how much he enjoys and misses your presence. Even just how you'd pass by his little section of the lair and do something as small as asking him what he's working on. The small details should always get their chance in the spotlight but he managed to miss them when they were right there in front of him. When you were in front of him.

Subsequent to this steady progression of fluttering heart palpitations upon the thought of you and his drying throat when he tries to speak your way, he decides to take some action. At least, that’s the plan he has in his head. You hardly look his way, so he needs to find a way to gain your attention. There must be some way. With somewhat of an idea in mind, he dials a number through his computer and lets it ring.

The other side of the line picks up and there’s a voice. “If this has anything to do with goons, aliens or whatever trouble you guys have gotten yourselves into, I don’t want any part of it.”

“Relax, Vern. This is something that entirely requires your expertise without life endangerment. I need to ask about women,” Donnie confirms, cutting right to the chase.

There’s a pause. "What-?” Another longer pause and then an inhale. “Can't you just ask one of your brothers or something?"

Yeah, right, because his family of sewer dwellers are so well-equipped for this matter. Even asking for Vern's aid is pushing the boat a little but it's better than nothing - a baseline structure of what to expect is all he needs. The internet would probably be more reliable but it doesn’t include that vital real-world experience.

"You engage in frequent courting. By all accounts, you're the only person I know who has enough field experience to give advice."

This might be giving Vern too much credit but this is a surefire way to get what he wants. Feeding a man's ego can accomplish many things. Call it manipulation of the circumstances if you will but no harm done.

"You know what?” There’s a brightness in his tone, an uptilted cadence in Vern’s rhetorical question. Bingo. “You being the smart one has never been more accurate, Don. Alright, I'll help you."

The notes he takes are unfathomable but he wants to make sure that everything is thought out with careful precision. That's not even taking into account that he needs to muster the courage to ask you out in the first place.

Michelangelo

One would think that this guy would be jumping with unparalleled joy to have someone confess their feelings for him but he's got eyes for someone else. April O'Neil is his one true babycake, his angel face, the first love he had ever known. He turns you down in the friendly way one would expect him to if not a little cocky. Who wouldn't want a piece of the MC Mikey? There aren’t any hard feelings though, right?

Well, no but the sting that follows is still too much for you to handle. Too much in fact that you decide it's best to recoil into a shell of your own and spend less time with the loveable terrapin. Such a shame as well considering you're missing out on your regular gaming sessions together. It probably sucks big time to be rejected but he meant no harm by it. He thought you could still hang out as you normally would. Perhaps you just needed some time. That’s what he reckoned until the days turned to weeks and those weeks to almost two months.

He’s subjected to playing bystander when you hang out with his family, barely getting a chance to have a word with you alone. If this treatment is good for anything, it gives him a chance to spectate and watch how you interact with those around you rather than directly with him. He recognises how much he adores that sparkle in your eyes, the playfulness of your tone when you crack out jokes with his brothers, how you light up the entire lair when you make your presence known. There is this unshakable spirit within you that he somehow never noticed until a few days prior when you took the liberty of playing an incredibly bold practical joke at Casey's expense. Man, this turtle's heart sored higher than it ever has before, which is saying something considering he had to jump out of a plane once.

Well, colour him surprised. He was so sure of himself that New York's favourite journalist was the only one for him but it seems he was wrong. Oh, man. He's feeling pretty bad now. He can surely make up for what happened though, right? Hopefully. There's only one way of finding out but he has one thing he needs to do first before talking to you.

"I'm sorry, angel face. My sights have been led astray. My loyalty shouldn’t be doubted but it’s for someone else now.”

The way Mikey is knelt down, head lowered with April’s hands in his own is a perplexing sight if not curiously amusing. His feelings and the pronounced “dibs” on the reporter have been no secret but his recent infatuation with you hasn’t been much of a secret either. Not to her anyway but she likes to think she’s good at picking up on these things.

“Just know that you'll always have a special place in my heart,” he finishes, ending the overly dramatised display by holding a fist to his chest.

"Considerate as always." Her expression is somewhere between humoured and endeared, fighting the shake of her head at how adorably ridiculous this turtle can be. "Thanks, Mikey."

Now that's out of the way, he can go into this with a clear head. Although, the only thing really going into this is going to be all of his heart.

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certainlynotasimp · 10 months

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Hii, i think a good idea for a one shot could be that there's a canon event where the spiderperson!reader have to do the iconic Spiderman kiss in their universe, like Spiderman 3 (toby's one) with Gwen stacy or whoever you want, but they are in a relationship with Miguel LMAOOO btw im sorry if there's something wrong with the grammar, english is not my first language <3

Rewrite the Stars

((Miguel O’Hara x Female! Reader))

A/N: A non Sunny x Miggy post? How odd for me lol. I’m so sorry this is super late and to everyone whose requested, I’m working slowly but surely on y’all’s stuff. If you wanna read some stuff in the meantime, here’s the Masterlist and feel free to join my discord.

A/N: I tried doing the you/yours pronoun thing because this isn’t a Sunny fanfic but I really don’t like it lol.

Warnings: Jealous Miguel?, Unrequited/Forbidden? Love, Female Reader/Female Pronouns, Barely use of Y/N, and no Spanish this time ((I’m trying to find a new translator and hopefully an editor))

The universe.

One of life’s greatest mysteries. A mass of stars and galaxies that housed so many lives within its many pockets. The lives of so many people whose lives were already written within its cloudy arms and their ends cemented in its pools of nothingness.

A beautiful cycle of cruelty and destiny.

A cycle that was the reason for your utter misery as you sat at a bar listening to your dimension’s Ben Riley blabber on about some football game you cared nothing about.

His oblivious brown eyes sparkled at the fascination with the game as his dimpled smile accentuates his sharp jawline. The warm lights from above caused a healthy glow to bounce off of his shaggy blonde hair, almost making him look like an angel. You can see why Spiderverse assigned him as your love interest.

In your earth’s canon, you were a typical woman who had gotten bit by a radioactive spider during a high school field trip and you spent your entire high school experience thrashing goons instead of chasing boys. Even helped take down some aliens with the Fantastic Four and the Avengers at times before college finals. Spiderwoman was New York’s beloved hero and the cockiness of being its one and only SpiderWoman quickly got into her head.

That was until six months ago.

Six months ago, you were fighting the Vulture over the Empire State Building when another, more mutated version of the same villain appeared. They both decided in your state of delirium over the doubles that you would be a good plaything.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, I didn’t ask for a combo with my chicken!” A feminine spider’s voice screeches as she avoids the hooked talons of the erratic variant.

The two villains took turns flying menacingly around the scope of buildings to throw the hero off of their location while the other swooped in and tries to rip her throat out.

As she attempts to escape the feathered monster, its companion would come and slice away the web of salvation, continuing the vicious cycle.

Blood blinded her vision as the loud ringing at the base of her skull grew louder. The causes of that annoying alarm grasp their razor claws into her shoulders before sweeping her exhausted body into the air with a victorious snarl.

‘I guess this is the end…’

As the heavens draw closer to her doom, her life hanging up by the slicing of her muscles and bones, a glimmer of fate happens. The warmth of a flash barely registers as the first ache disappears with a startled squeak and a burly force. The sudden change in feeling takes her breath away as she suddenly begins to plummet below.

Her eyes quickly adjusting to the suffocating drop, she can see that one of the Vultures was now fighting an even more prominent blue figure, his howls of pain and unintelligible cursing heard from the stumbling brawl.

As the flash from her familiar foe reaches around the building, she shoots her web at him and used him as a glider.

“Time to ground you, birdie!” She yells as she throws the villain through a window. Catching her grip on the building, she looks at her new foe in the sky and the wind is knocked out of her from the sight.

The man who saved her was in a futuristic spider suit with his mask now off. His dark hair flutters in the wind as the setting sun makes his tanned skin glow. His red eyes glare at the wiggling mutant as his full lips pull back into a snarl. His jaws open revealing a set of large fans before he plunged them into the mutant.

Who the hell is that?

~~~~~~~~~

“(Y/N)?…” Ben frowns as he realizes his date was lost in her thoughts.

You snapped out of your head and fake an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I was remembering something….”

That wasn’t a complete lie. You remembered the day you met Miguel O’Hara. The Spiderman of the year 2099 and the leader of the inter-dimensional Spider Society. The anomaly that had come into your world had brought the two together and you were recruited due to your stubbornness, much to Miguel’s annoyance.

~~~~~~~~~

“No.” His annoyance dripped from these words as he glares down at you. You were caught in wonder at the idea of there being other Spidermen and that they worked together to stop the collapse of the entire universe. The thought seemed too good to be true that you just had to ask if you could join until those red eyes shot your dream through the heart.

“What do you mean ‘No’?” You ask in disbelief. Your own eyes glared deep into his soul as your hands balled into fists. “I’m a Spiderman just like you! How could you-!”

“You are not like me.” He coldly snaps at you, your ranting briefly interrupted as the man towers over you. His clawed hand grasps your face as his glare sets a spark of fury down in your chest.

“You will never be like me and you will never-!” “Is that our new recruit?” A smooth British accent appears behind Miguel as a spiked-headed Spiderman peeks around his bulking figure.

“No, she’s-” The tall punk pulls you away from Miguel with a mischievous laugh as he introduces himself. “Ello, love, my name is Hobie. Hobie Brown.” He leans down with a sly smirk as his mischievous attitude infests your being like a plague. “Just play along, mate. Let’s riffle this wanker’s undies.” He whispers as you giggle.

“Nice to meet you, Hobie.” I allow a sly smirk to slide onto my face as I look back at the now very annoyed Miguel. “My name is (Y/N) and I’m happy to join.”

~~~~~~~~

The distant sound of screams filters through the bar as the distinct sound of a car being tossed into another building.

Looking at my gizmo disguised as a watch, you realized that the canon event was starting.

~~~~~~~~

“You did well today,” Miguel admits under his breath. Looking at him in shock, you realize that he wasn’t scowling like he normally was. He had a softer expression, his eyes shining with approval as his lips quirked into a mimic of a smile.

The mission had almost gone rouge with the escape of a prowler and him hiding low in a crowded dimension. Despite the obvious danger, Miguel opted to go alone like usual, but his lack of spider sense caused him to get caught up in a trap. Talons and Fangs don’t really help if you can’t exactly move around to use them, so he ended up taking serious blows.

Luckily, you managed to get there and tumble with the villain long enough for the others to rescue Miguel, and the team managed to recapture the prowler. Of course all of them looked pretty bad injuries wise, but the look Miguel had as you sat there bandaging up his wounds made it worth it for some odd reason.

“Thanks Boss.”

~~~~~~~~

June 27th : SpiderWoman of Earth 648 will rescue love interest, Ben Riley, from an attack against The Rhino….

The roaring of the mechanical beast fills the panicked screams of the patrons as the sinking feeling falls in your chest. Ben is quick to play the hero like any guy would as he grabs your arm and drags you out towards the emergency exit. Just like the timeline said it would.

You use the chaos to your advantage as you pretend to trip and get lost in the crowd of people struggling to escape from the emergency exit.

~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean by that?!” I snapped at an irritated Miguel.

Lyla was surprisingly quiet as she watched the duo argue. Miguel whips around at you as his ruby eyes scorched into yours. His talons point at you accusingly as he reiterates your next canon event.

“On June 27th, you are going to be out on a date with Ben Riley. The Rhino is gonna attack that street and you’re gonna save everyone, and afterwards you’re gonna have to kiss him.” His frustration evident as his permanent frown creases.

You stare into his eyes in defiance as you coldly utter, “No. I’m not gonna kiss Ben Riley.”

“And why not? He’s your love interest!” Miguel exclaims, obviously more furious than before. “You’re the Peter to his MJ. You gotta kiss him because you’re destined to be.”

“I don’t love him! I don’t even like his whiny ass!” You snap as you felt your frustrated tears roll down your face.

It’s true. Before you joined this team, you would have been thrilled that you were destined to be with Campus Hunk Ben Riley. He was everything you could ever want from a guy. He was good looking, sensitive, athletic, and social able. The all around good guy you would be proud to bring home to your folks.

But…

Sharp grasp on your shoulder alerts your attention back to Miguel as he slams you back against the desk. His eyes burning embers as he glares down at you.

~~~~~~~~~~

Changing into your spidersuit, you began to fight The Rhino with a distracted daze in your movements.

The memory from a week prior burning in your mind as you sloppily avoided cars and harsh blows. After a few well timed flips and back kicks, the brute decides to throw a large street cleaning truck towards the alleyway. Just like Lyla predicted when she handed you the file.

The Rhino is gonna throw a street cleaner towards the alleyway where Ben is. SpiderWoman will stop the truck before impact and sling it back towards The Rhino ending the fight.

~~~~~~~

“And why is it that you are being so difficult?!” He snaps as his fangs glimmer from his scowl. A cute trait you used to love about him until it was pointed at you. “You are no better than a spoiled child with how you are acting so you better have a good fucking reason!”

You growl back at him with a tear rolling down your enraged face.

He had no right to argue with you about your life, not when he’s the one making it difficult.

~~~~~~~

Shooting a web out towards the buildings, you catapulted yourself into the air and landed in front of the truck. Quickly reusing the web with some enforcements, the truck was bounced back to the The Rhino. The enormous foe gets trampled by the machinery as the crowd cheers for SpiderWoman’s dreaded victory.

“Way to go SpiderWoman!!” A familiar voice joins the crowd as I see Ben on the ground, obviously he either tripped or fell back to avoid the truck. You offer a hand towards him as you thank him softly.

“Thank you.” I faked the smile in my voice as the crowd disappears, leaving the two of you in the alley way.

~~~~~

Finally snapping at him, you yell out in fury,

“BECAUSE HE’S NOT YOU!”

With a frustrated slap to Miguel’s face, you run past him and escaped back to your dimension, heartbroken over how the events to come and what just happened that despite everything you couldn’t change fate.

No matter how many times you fell asleep during long nights talking on his observation deck. No matter how many playful sparring matches turn into flirty comments. Not even the little gestures of bringing the grumpy spider his coffee and him bringing you some sweets during meetings could change that the star already written your path.

You fell in love with a man who isn’t meant to be yours.

~~~~~

It’s been a week since that fight and you still haven’t seen or heard from him. It hurt to know that your confession was brushed aside while you had to continue the continuity. You half at least expected him to be here to make sure you at least followed through with the canon event.

“Would you like a swing home?” I offer just like I’m supposed to. The moment that was meant to be a nervous beginning to a love story felt like the beginning of heartache as I watched a blush form on his face.

“Sure,” he answered before a flash of realization that his date was suddenly not with him. Another trait you wouldn’t have noticed if you were as in love with him as you were suppose to be.

“Hey my date isn’t here…I think she got hurt or lost during the panic.” His concern caused a pang of guilt to stab her in the chest.

Recovering quickly, you shoot out some webbing and playfully hang upside down infront of him. “Well I guess that swinging date will have to be postponed.”

“Wait it was gonna be a-!”

Quickly, you pulled down the mask enough to deliver a quick peck to his rambling mouth. You force out a giggle as he stood looking at you flabbergasted.

“See ya, Riley.” You swing off as the man bumbled to even ask how you knew his name.

Lyla just said it was a kiss, not a what kind of kiss.

With a heavy heart, you swing back home as you tried to remember that this was all for the sake of the canon. That Miguel didn’t care for you the way you did for him. You tried your hardest to tell your aching heart that those past few months were you just making too much out of nothing.

You mournfully entered your apartment through the bathroom window you normally kept unlocked . You stripped away the skin tight fabric before wrapping yourself in the familiar comfort of your robe as you exited the room into a dim lit living room.

You heart stick in your chest as you see Miguel standing there in your living room in his bright blue spider suit and a beautiful spring lily in his hand.

“Miguel? What are you doing here?…” You ask as yoy warily approach him, scared he’s gonna do something to you.

He shakes his head, refusing to answer as he hands you the flower. It’s soft white petals shining in the pale moonlight as you smile fondly at it. They were your favorite flower. Something you told Miguel a million times before.

Before you could thank him for the kind gesture, a soft thump above you alrets you to look up. A spindle of glowing webbing cascaded down the ceiling with the large spiderman now suspended upside down from it. His free hand caresses the side of your face as his eyes stared softly into yours.

“I can’t change the canon, mi amor…” he whispers sadly before mischief lights up his molten gaze. “But we certainly can try to rewrite the stars for us.”

An excited nod from you causes his chest to rumble as he pulls you into a slow passionate kiss.

You were glad this is a canon event for spider men despite it not going as planned.

#miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman into the spiderverse #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara #across the spiderverse #fanfic

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graceofagodswrath · 6 months

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Ok ok ok your "Humans of Transformers franchise are space orcs" rant is out of this world.

I detest with passion when humans are reduced to pets and plot devices when instead the story could be about two alien species finding one another equally amazing/terrifying for their own respective reasons.

Here is my question: do humans and Cybertronians see how eerily similar they are? They have love of music, familial relationships, similar urban infrastructure, societal structure, financial systems, competitive entertainment, organized societies and war, colonialism, recreational intercourse, marriage...

Not to mention, why was it never addressed how similar both species look: bipedal, waists, noses, cheekbones, 5 fingers, chins, facial expressions and sense of aesthetics and beauty? Sure, humans have hair but in rather strategic places.

Veins and wires, blood and energon, metal and flesh, nanobytes and blood cells, Sparks and brain impulses, sexual organs...

Imagine Autobots arrive on Earth for the first time expecting some primitive cave-dwellers, only to encounter a less advanced mini-version of Cybertronian cities (New York, Singapore, London, Rome, Tokyo, Rio, Dubai...) and societies running on scientific, artistic and philosophical development which has no right existing on the ruthless, all-organic planet such as Earth is. Societes run by creatures who 4.000.000 (the duration of their war) years ago were hanging from the trees btw.

Autobots would be terrified.

Lemme make sure this response saves this time, cause it took me a minute to answer cause my first deleted and I had so much written I got unbelievably angry and refused to even look at the tumblr app.

But here we are.

So, this is EXACTLY what I have been thinking about for who k owe how long. It’s also the intro to this wack as fuck universe idea I’ve had in my head a while, and have kinda hinted at in my other works, but I’ve never gone into detail about.

And I still won’t.

Anyways, yes. It’s crazy that we backlit humans so much when any other sentient species is about. Transformers, TMNT, etc (I’m on a one track mind, feel free to jot down any other fandoms I can’t think of). The main theme of these stories? HUMANS SUCK. And that is severely unfair. People want to cry about how much our generation doesn’t give a shit anymore. Have you SEEN the media we feed kids???

That’s why I live Humans are Space Orcs so much. It really puts into perspective how unique and batshit our species is.

So, onto the Transformers vs humans concepts. The ONLY reason (forgoing technoism and general hate towards organics) cybertronians don’t see humanity as an imminent threat, or one in general, is because of size. WE BE SMALL AF. Can’t blame them, I get it. We do the same. Insects? Fuck them mfs.

But have you seen a botfly or tick burrow into your skin? The infection that comes form that? Have you seen ants jump a small animal as a colony and absolutely shred it? Or a spider only biting you, and the horror the venom causes (recluses and huntsman’s specifically). We have a good fucking reason for disliking these mfs.

But transformers? These are organic experiences. Worst they go through are rust infections, spark death, the works. They are not at risk the same way we are. That is why they view organics as small and inconsequential. They have no idea how hard we fight to simply stay alive.

And now the similarities. It’s understandable that they wouldn’t immediately recognize the physical, cultural, and psychological similarities between our species. Transformers are an incredibly diverse race, like any other. But specifically in physical form. Your average cybertronian holds a similar appearance to your average human. We tend to have the same features, just with different names. Eyes, noses, faceplates, ears, two arms, two legs. Sure that’s average for them too. But they are unique because of the fact that they have two forms. Vehicle mode. Their mode decides what they’re second mode looks like, which can create extreme diversity is appearance. Small, large, many limbed or not.

So the immediate similarities probably wouldn’t jump out to them in an odd way. There’s also the idea that because they’re so spread out in the universe, they’ve seen other organic races that are also similar. Pairs of every body part could be the common denominator among species.

That goes culturally too. War, love, music, government, politics, it’s all a natural form of sentient evolution. Another common denominator. It’s how it’s done that makes it unique. And the similarities between human and cybertronian culture is uncomfortably familiar.

I think that’s why cybertronians are seen being closest with humans rather than other species in the shows and comics (obviously because the audience is human and they need relation to characters but shhhh forget that for a sec). This is where the theories start.

Let’s say cybertronians begin to recognize the weird similarities between our species. The really, really weird stuff. The itty bitty details. Like:

- how we also mainstream kissing on the lips as the top tier romantic gesture.

- use verbal tone and cues for our language.

- have intensely complicated interpersonal relationships in the exact same manner.

- suffer from extreme mental health issues like depression, anxiety, PTSD (I totally headcannon that forms of adhd, autism, and ocd exist in cybertronian society, have y’all not seen my boy rodimus prime??)

- will also destroy each other in the name of our gods, until we have a common enemy.

That’s just the basics I could come up with. The only time I actually saw a moment where a transformer genuinely take a moment to realize that humans can be a threat, was in transformers prime. Episode 6 of beast wars (I think, correct me if wrong), where Miko beats the ever loving fuck out of an insecticon (I think) and upon Megatron hearing this, just goes blank Kubrick stare for a hot second. Man had an ugly realization that did not fit in with anything he had experienced his whole life.

AND THEY NEVER FUCKING ADDRESSED IT EVER AGAIN. Sick of this shit. Could’ve had the most badass character development, where the humans actually proved useful and did something (it would have fit Milo’s character so perfectly too) and scared the utter shit out of the transformers. BUT NO. They continue to be annoying as fuck.

One thing I loved about TF Prime was that it canonically turned Unicron into Earth. And humans came from the earth. Which relates humans beings and cybertronians so hard. Cousins Fr. We are the cybertronian equivalent of organics, and transformers the inorganic equivalent of humans. The individuality, the chaos, the culture, it clicks. There is so much material to really go into it.

But they never do. Don’t get me wrong, I love Transformers lord and just discovering more without humans being involved. We’re just annoying af at this point. But there is so much u tapped potential in transformers actually taking the chance to LEARN about us. But we’re just friends (pets) to these mfs.

That’s why I love TF Earthspark so far. Transformers ingrained into human culture because they’re not from Cybertron, and cybertronians having to adapt to human culture because they have no where else to go. Granted, it’s a kids show. There’s only so much they can do. But I’m excited for where it’ll lead. It really shows how much of threat and ally humans are, and how we are just as diverse as cybertronians.

I need to write another fic about cybertronians meeting humans their size from our world tho. Need to continue my old piece. Would give me so much life. Y’all help motivate me, college draining my ass.

#shower thoughts #humans are crazy #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are deathworlders #humans are weird #Transformers #transformers prime #transformers earthspark #rant

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chvoswxtch · 1 year

Text

it's like that

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: after taking on a new project at work, a figure from your past makes an appearance that doesn't sit well with frank.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of violence

word count: 8k

a/n: buckle up, sluts (I say with all the love in my heart). this part 4 & it is long (about 25 pages) so grab a snack, a drink, & get comfy. thank you to @imalittleanon for being my lovely beta reader, & thank all of you for continuing to enjoy reading this series as much as I love writing it. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

btw there's a few easter eggs from season 1 of the punisher in this. enjoy 🖤

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F. Castle

Those black letters had been staring up at you for over an hour. When you walked into your office this morning, the manila folder with Frank’s name on it was waiting on your desk. A furrow formed between your brows as you quickly looked around your office, not catching anyone’s eyes when you looked out into the hallway. You cautiously walked over towards your desk, fingertips barely tracing over the label with his name on it, as you tried to figure out who might have left it.

Your fingers paused when a name suddenly popped into your head.

Billy.

»»———　　———««

“Where the hell’s he goin’?”

Billy stared down at you curiously, eyes continuously darting back and forth between Frank’s ghost and your stunned expression. You hadn’t realized that you’d still been standing in the exact spot that Frank left you in, completely oblivious of all the other couples dancing around your statue. Billy gently grabbed onto your shoulder, dark brows pulling together towards the center of his forehead as he bent down slightly to reach your eye level.

“Y/N?”

“I wanna go home.”

Billy’s face immediately morphed into a more serious expression, and he transitioned into full on bodyguard mode. Wrapping his arm around your waist to lead you towards the hall with the elevators, he pulled an ear piece out of his pocket to slip in and brought his wrist up to his mouth to speak into his comms.

“Bring the car around front, now.”

Pressing the call button for one of the elevators, Billy turned his attention fully on your silent form.

“What happened?”

All you could think about was Frank’s words, echoing in your ears over and over and over as his vengeful glare bore into your eyes.

She died.

Billy grasped onto your shoulders a little firmer to capture your attention, bending down again to be level with your eyesight as he kept his voice calm.

“Y/N, I need you to tell me if this is an emotional thing, or a threat thing, so I know how to direct my guys. Because I’ve got no fuckin’ idea why Frank just took off like that, and the look on your face is makin’ me nervous. Talk to me, Y/N/N.”

“I just wanna go home, Billy.”

Billy’s stare was unwavering, even as the metal doors of the elevator parted with a ding. His dark eyes scanned over your face and entire body before he gave a slight nod of his head and ushered you into the elevator, pulling his comms up to his mouth again.

“Everyone report to your vehicles. We’re headed to the lobby. I’m takin’ Y/L/N home.”

The glass of the window was cool against your temple when you rested your head against it, closing your eyes for a moment as you let out a shuddering breath. All you could see flashing behind your eyelids was Frank’s face.

Billy pulled his ear piece out as he eyed you, tucking it back into his jacket pocket.

“What happened with Frank?”

“I shouldn’t have asked him.”

“Asked him what?”

The busy streets of New York passed by in a blur as you watched out the window, but you couldn’t see any of it. All you could see was his face.

“I thought…when I saw the ring around his neck…I thought he was getting divorced. I didn’t know that…that his wife…”

You couldn’t even finish that sentence. Your brain was still trying to process the way Frank had said it. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Billy immediately stiffen, and his facial features became darker as you looked over at him.

“Did you know her?”

Billy clenched his jaw tightly as he stared straight ahead, only giving a slight nod of his head.

“She was like family. She was family.”

“What hap-”

“Not my place to say.”

Billy’s voice was stern, with a slight edge to it, and you immediately let the endless questions bubbling in your throat die on your tongue. The rest of the ride was completely silent as you tried to wrap your brain around all of this new information. You knew that Billy and Frank had known each other for a long time, but you didn’t realize just how close they were. Your heart felt heavy in your chest, overflowing with guilt for ripping open a wound not just for Frank, but for Billy too.

“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…I wasn’t trying to…I’m-”

“You didn’t know.”

“It’s not my business.”

Billy’s eyes were a little more sympathetic than the rest of his features as he looked at you. As soon as his car pulled up outside your home, you rushed to unbuckle yourself, wanting to put as much distance between yourself and the mess you had made as possible.

“Thank you…for everything, tonight. I’m just gonna-”

“I’ll walk you.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I’m still on the clock.”

Billy didn’t give you another chance to protest as he opened his door to get out, coming around to meet you on your side so that he could walk you up to your door. Whatever nerve you had struck with him had completely evaporated the playful mood he was usually in, and you found yourself missing that version of him in place of this one. Your fingers trembled as you pulled your keys from your purse, and your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you both stood in front of your door.

“Billy…I’m so sorry-”

“You can’t help it. It’s the investigative journalist in you.”

Billy attempted to give you a reassuring smile, but it never made it to the edges of his mouth. He let out a deep exhale through his nose, adjusting his tie as he glanced around silently for a moment.

“Give him time. Frankie’s kinda like a cat. You gotta let him come to you.”

Letting out a shaky breath, you traced your thumb over your key, staring down at it for a moment as you tried to figure out what to say. You didn’t want to see the hurt and disappointment in Billy’s eyes.

“Thank you…for coming with me tonight. And…for everything. I really appreciate it.”

“If you wanted to go on a date with me so bad, all you had to do was ask, doll.”

When your eyes snapped up, Billy’s signature cocky smirk was back on his lips, and his eyes were softer and shining with mischief. A little bit of the weight from earlier felt like it had been lifted off your shoulders, and you rolled your eyes as you tried to fight the smile that tugged at the corner of your mouth.

“I’d never give you the satisfaction, Russo.”

»»———　　———««

Billy had to have been the one that left it. But why? What did he want you to know?

You had spent the past hour waging an internal war with yourself over it. Part of you desperately wanted to know what was inside, especially if it had answers about Frank and his wife. A bigger part of you felt guilty at the idea of invading his privacy like that. If he wanted you to know, he would tell you.

Why would Frank want you to know? Why had he even brought it up at the gala? He could’ve lied. He could’ve said anything but that.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, you grabbed the folder and shoved it into your bag, deciding it was a problem for later since you had a staff meeting in five minutes. Grabbing your notebook and pen in one hand and your coffee in the other, you made your way to the large meeting room where everyone was gathering around, taking a seat towards the front of the long table. Your editor adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose as he clasped his hands together.

“Alright, I’m sure most of you heard by now, but there was another bomb attack this morning right in front of the Royal Hospitality hotel. We don’t have a lot of details right now, but we do know a car parked out front was rigged to explode. This was most likely directed at senatorial candidate Stan Ori. He was supposed to deliver a speech there for his campaign about gun control this morning. We don’t have confirmation on the number of injuries or deaths yet. Ground team, I want you as close to the scene as possible. Get me everything you can: eye witness statements, pictures, anything. Internal team, I want you contacting all our sources at NYPD and Metro General for anything we can use. We need to run something today, the sooner the better. We clear? Alright, get to work. Y/L/N, stay back a minute.”

Confusion settled over your features as you stared up at your editor, watching as everyone quickly scattered out of the room. Once the two of you were alone, he let out a deep sigh and settled his hands on his hips while giving you a pointed look.

“I don’t want you touching this.”

Fury instantly spread through your bloodstream as you abruptly stood up from your chair.

“You can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack.”

“Ellison-”

“You are already too close to this. Do I need to remind you why you’re walking around with a shadow?”

“This is my job-”

“Your job is to write what I tell you, and I am telling you this is off limits.”

“Ellison, I was with Stan when they called into that radio interview. I can get an exclusive with him-”

“So they can threaten you?”

“They’ve already threatened me!”

“Which is exactly why you aren’t going anywhere near this, Y/N. I am not making the same mistake with you that I made with Ben. Do you understand?”

All the fire raging within you suddenly fizzled out at the mention of Ben’s name, and you slowly deflated. Ben Urich had been somewhat of a mentor to you when you started at the Bulletin. He had been an incredible writer that published some of the most groundbreaking stories the paper had ever seen, and he had begrudgingly taken you under his wing once he realized you weren’t going to give him an option not to. The office you worked out of now had once been his, and you hadn’t changed a single thing about it.

Ben had gotten too close to Wilson Fisk in the process of writing an article to expose him for what he really was, and while it was never proven in court, you knew Fisk had been the one that murdered him.

“Yeah…I understand.”

“I know you hate this shit. Okay, I do too. But pride is not worth losing your life over.”

“It’s not pride, Ellison. It’s…anger. I’m tired and angry.”

“Kind of a shame your beloved Punisher was gunned down. If there was ever a time I wished that guy was still alive, it’s now. Never thought I would ever say that, but…he probably would’ve had these assholes taken care of after the first attack. He was efficient, I’ll give him that.”

Shooting a glare in Ellison’s direction, you crossed your arms defiantly over your chest as you shook your head.

“He wasn’t-I never said he was…shut up.”

You knew Ellison was right to forbid you from covering the attacks. You had already put yourself at risk too much already. But it didn’t make it any less infuriating.

As you stormed back into your office, you slammed your door shut so hard, it rattled the hinges. A frustrated groan fell from your lips as you tiredly rubbed your palms down your face.

“That good, huh?”

Jumping at the sound of Frank’s deep voice cutting through the silence of your office, you quickly spun around to see him sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he stared over at you, and you swore you saw the faintest of smiles threatening to spill over his lips.

“What…where did you come from?”

“You want the long answer, or the short one?”

You stared at him in complete disbelief. Frank was sitting calmly in the corner of your office, giving you sass like he hadn’t just told you an Earth-shattering revelation no more than seventy-two hours ago before completely disappearing again. He cocked his head to the side as he stared over at you, arching one of his dark brows quizzically.

“Ya’know, as your keeper, it’s pretty concernin’ how little regard you have for your own safety.”

“What?”

“I coulda shot you, or came up behind you with a knife. You wouldn’t have even known I was in here. You really gotta start checkin’ rooms before you enter ‘em, and lockin’ your goddamn door. You even got anythin’ in here to protect yourself with?”

“Yeah, you.”

Frank’s eyes narrowed at your response, and you crossed your arms over your chest as you arched one of your brows in return. If he wanted to do sassy today, you could do sassy, and you could do it better.

“I meant a weapon, smartass.”

“Again, you. Isn’t that what they’re paying you for?”

“How ‘bout when I’m not here?”

“Then I get your replacement. At least, that’s what I’ve been getting every time you’ve gone MIA lately.”

Frank’s jaw instantly tensed at your snappy reply, and you didn’t miss the way he sat up a little straighter in the chair. Lightly scoffing, you rolled your eyes as you stalked over to your desk to sit down, tossing your notebook and pen carelessly onto it.

“Should I sign up for self defense classes? Or just skip straight to buying a gun, Frank? What’s your professional recommendation?”

Were you being bitchy? Absolutely. Did Frank deserve it? Abso-fucking-lutey. You were not in the mood to deal with his emotional whiplash today.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?”

“Just seems to be National Asshole Day, and lucky me. I get to deal with all the biggest contenders.”

Frank grunted in annoyance as a sharp exhale left his nose, and you could feel his eyes staring daggers into the side of your face.

“Whenever you’re done throwin’ your fuckin’ tantrum and can talk to me like an adult, let me know. Yeah?”

You swiftly whipped your head in Frank’s direction, eyes wild with rancor and bewilderment at the audacity for him to say that to you when he was the one that consistently vanished instead of communicating. Frank’s lips were pursed in almost a pout, and there was a clear challenge shining in his eyes as he stared you down. Both of you refused to look away, or blink, like you were having a fucking staring contest. But Frank clearly hadn’t learned by now that you were just as stubborn as he was.

“I’ll start when you start.”

A muscle feathered in Frank’s strong jaw, and he nodded his head slowly as he leaned back in the chair, spreading his legs a little wider as he calmly crossed his arms over his chest.

“So it’s like that, then?”

“Yeah, Frank. It’s like that.”

Frank stared you down silently as you narrowed your eyes in dissent, a look of irritation and complete exasperation etched onto his features. Shaking his head with a scoff, he slapped his hands on his thighs before suddenly standing, his boots thudding heavily against the floor as he marched over towards your door.

“Where are you going?”

“To find somethin’ to fix that fuckin’ attitude of yours.”

A scornful laugh slipped past your lips as Frank spoke to you over his shoulder, shutting your door far less than gently as he disappeared down the hallway. You slipped your fingers into your hair and ran them through to the ends in frustration, angrily unlocking your computer as you swore under your breath.

“Asshole.”

Twenty minutes later, Frank reappeared in your office, slamming a very large iced coffee along with a small brown paper bag down on your desk. A crease formed between your brows when you noticed the name of your favorite cafe on the cup, and you tilted your head back to look up at Frank in complete perplexity.

“What’s this?��

“Knowin’ you, you ain’t ate nothin’ today, and you’re particular ‘bout your coffee. Figured between bein’ hangry and drinkin’ that shit they pass off as coffee in your breakroom, this would take care of at least two reasons you’re such a ray of fuckin’ sunshine today.”

You’d been so wrapped up in watching the news coverage of the attack this morning, you had almost forgotten about your little spat with Frank earlier. You followed his large frame with your eyes as he plopped back down into the chair he had claimed as his, grunting as he stared out your window with a broody look on his face while sipping his own coffee.

Frank didn’t normally sit in your office. He usually sat outside to get a better vantage point of all the exits, and to keep an eye on who was coming through the building. There were usually two other guards with Frank that stayed outside in a car, and you knew they were there because you had seen them on your way in. Even though you were still a little upset with him about his behavior at the gala, it was comforting having him to keep you company. Even if you two were in the middle of an argument.

Reaching for the cup, you closed your eyes and let out a quiet hum of approval as the familiar taste of blonde espresso and sweet cream cold foam hit your taste buds. Frank had a point. The coffee in your break room was terrible, but you’d been in a rush this morning and hadn’t had time to make any of your own or stop by your favorite place. You had been forcing yourself to drink the break room coffee because you desperately needed the caffeine.

You had guzzled nearly a fourth of the cup when you finally opened your eyes, noticing that Frank was staring at you with a mixture of incredulity and entertainment on his face. He shook his head slowly as a deep chuckle sounded in his chest, lifting his own cup to take a sip as a delighted grin threatened to take over the corner of his mouth. A layer of blush instantly coated your cheeks at his reaction.

“What are you laughing at?”

“You.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you’re so fuckin’ easy to please.”

For some reason that made you blush even harder, and your mouth snapped shut as you looked away to find your computer screen suddenly very interesting.

“Eat that damn muffin so we can call a truce.”

As nice as it was having Frank’s company, it was also pretty unnerving. You had to be hyper aware of everything you did knowing that he was watching you, which made you nervous considering you had a lot of weird fucking habits you mostly did subconsciously. Once you had sucked down half your coffee and eaten a good portion of the muffin, you looked over to find Frank already staring at you, arching one of his dark brows in question.

“You good now?”

Capturing your bottom lip between your teeth, you glanced down at your computer screen and nodded, too embarrassed to even look at him. Now that all your anger from earlier had vaporized, you felt bad about the way you had spoken to him. You had no idea what it was like to lose someone close to you like that. You had no knowledge of how something like that could change a person.

Ever since Frank had told you about his wife’s death, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You wondered how long it had been since he’d lost her, and how. You wondered if he got to say goodbye. You kept thinking about how you weren’t sure if you would have the strength to go on after losing the person you loved most. To try and find another purpose in life, a reason to get out of bed in the morning, any semblance of meaning again.

Frank stood up and came over to sit in the chair directly in front of your desk, setting his coffee cup down on the edge of it. You lifted your gaze to meet his, noting the softer look in his eyes and watching as he nodded in your direction with his chin.

“You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on, now?”

A soft sigh slipped past your lips as you tucked your hair behind your ears, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your desk and hold onto the back of your neck with your hands.

“There was another attack this morning.”

“I heard.”

“Fifteen people were injured. Four of them…they aren’t sure if they’re gonna make it through the night. Three were killed. Ellison doesn’t want me anywhere near it. He told me to stay away, said it was too dangerous.”

“He’s right.”

Frank let out a sigh when you looked at him, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he glanced around your office.

“The more you antagonize ‘em, the harder they’re gonna come for you.”

“So I don’t get to do my job because they don’t like what I have to say.”

“If it keeps you safe, yeah.”

Letting out a heavy exhale, you sank back into your chair as you crossed your arms over your chest. Frank moved his chair closer to your desk so he could place his arms on it, leaning in closer as he looked at you with sympathy.

“I know it ain’t fair-”

“No, it isn’t. It’s frustrating. This whole thing is so…fucked. They’re hurting and…murdering innocent people, and for what? To terrorize people into agreeing with them? I just…I don’t understand how they haven’t been caught yet. How much longer do they get away with this?”

“They’re not gettin’ away with it.”

“I don’t know, Frank. It seems like they are. No one knows who these people are. There’s no leads, no solid evidence, nothing. And now, I’m not allowed to do my job. I don’t want them to take my silence as compliance, or fear. I don’t want them to think they got to me, and they won. And I realize that is a stupid thing to think right now, but this whole thing just…pisses me off. I just want this shit to be over. I mean, who the fuck just goes around blowing shit up like that?”

“There’s nothin’ in this world I hate as much as a goddamn bomb. Goddamn cowards. They think they’re gonna scare people into doin’ what they want. They’re wrong. It just pisses people off, ya’know, brings ‘em together, makes ‘em stronger. New York doesn’t forget. Whoever this is, they’re in for a world of shit.”

Rubbing your palms tiredly down your face, you let out another frustrated sigh.

“Hey, I know this shit sucks right now. But it ain’t gonna last forever. These fuckers are gonna get what’s comin’ to ‘em. Then you can go back to callin’ people pussies on the radio.”

A tiny smirk curled at the edge of your mouth as you looked across your desk at Frank.

“I wasn’t allowed to use that word.”

“I know. But I also know it’s the one you wanted to use.”

A knowing smirk ghosted over Frank’s lips, and it only made your smile stretch further. You tilted your head to the side as you looked over at him curiously.

“You listened to it?”

“Course. Read your articles too.”

“I didn’t know you were a fan, Frank.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, sweetheart. I was debriefed on you and why I was havin’ to follow your trouble makin’ ass around. It was part of my homework.”

“Whatever you say, Castle. Just let me know if you want me to sign something, or you know, a picture.”

Frank rolled his eyes as a chuckle slipped past his lips, leaning back into the chair as he folded his arms behind his head.

“Think I liked you better when you were mad at me.”

»»———　　———««

Frank tugged at the tie around his neck with a grunt, staring up at the looming courthouse in complete disdain.

“Don’t see why I gotta get all dressed up for this shit.”

“Frank, you’re wearing jeans. I’d hardly say you’re dressed up.”

“You said I gotta wear a tie.”

“Because there’s a dress code.”

“I don’t work here. The hell that gotta do with me?”

“Because I’m the press, and you’re with me.”

Frank let out another irritated grunt as he followed close behind you up the numerous sets of steps.

“I tell you lately I really don’t like your fuckin’ job?”

A loud laugh slipped past your lips at the annoyed look on Frank’s face, placing your hand on his shoulder when he opened the door for you.

“Sorry Castle, but since you and Ellison both seem to agree that I can’t do my normal job, I’m being forced to take the ones I’m given, which apparently includes interviewing politicians.”

Frank stared down at you in contempt as he rolled his eyes, motioning for you to go inside.

“Fuckin’ hate politics.”

Giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze, you flashed him a grin.

“You and me both. I’ll try to make this as quick as humanly possible.”

As the elevator brought you and Frank up to the fourth floor, you took a moment to gloss over the interview questions Ellison had sent you. It was a last minute favor to him since the journalist originally doing this piece had called out sick, and you hadn’t had a chance to prep like you normally do.

“Who is it?”

“I’m not sure, one of the candidates running for District Attorney. I don’t normally cover this stuff.”

The elevator doors parted with a ding, and Frank followed close behind you as you made your way over towards the receptionist’s desk. There was an older redheaded woman at the desk in the center of the lobby that greeted you with a smile.

“Hi there. How can I help you?”

“Hi, my name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m here for a meeting with a-”

Glancing down at the paper in your hand, your eyes searched for the name of who you were interviewing, when suddenly a familiar voice rang in your ears.

“Well well well, if it isn’t the prettiest girl in all of New York.”

As you turned your head in the direction of the voice, you instantly stilled, and your eyes nearly doubled in size.

“Steven?”

“Hey beautiful.”

“What…what are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.”

“What?”

Flashing you a grin he thought came off as charming, Steven motioned towards the paper in your hand with his finger as he walked over towards you.

“You’re interviewing me.”

Blinking a few times in dumbfoundment, your lips parted in almost shock as you stared down at the paper in your hands.

District Attorney Candidate: Steven Price.

No fucking way. There was no fucking way this was happening right now.

Twisting your face up in confusion, you cocked your head to the side as you stared at him in complete disbelief.

“Wait, you’re running for District Attorney?”

“You sound surprised.”

“Considering you would have a wrap sheet the length of my arm if your father wasn’t who he was, yeah. I am.”

Slipping his hands into his pockets, Steven’s lips parted into a wide grin as he let his eyes shamelessly wander over your body.

“Aww, you remember. That’s cute. C’mon, we can keep reminiscing in my office.”

Steven’s smile fell immediately when his gaze finally landed on Frank, as if he suddenly noticed his presence. How the hell he managed to miss the walking brick wall behind you that was Frank Castle, you weren’t sure, but Steven was nothing if not self-involved.

“You can wait out here.”

“The hell I can.”

Frank’s voice was rougher than usual when it came out, and you didn’t miss the way it made the Adam's apple in Steven’s throat bob. You fought the smirk that threatened to curl at the edge of your mouth as you took a step closer towards Frank and gently rested your hand on his arm.

“This is Frank. He’s with me.”

Steven’s blue eyes darted back and forth between yours and Frank’s, standing up a little straighter as he squared his shoulders in an attempt to make himself look bigger.

“Does he have to be?”

“I go where she goes.”

As he looked at you for confirmation, you lightly shrugged your shoulders in Steven’s direction with a playful smile.

“I wouldn’t bother arguing with him.”

Flashing Frank a look of complete dissatisfaction, Steven quickly tried to recompose himself as he plastered a tight lipped smile on his mouth.

“Alright then. This way.”

Interviewing your ex-boyfriend from college was certainly not on your agenda for today, and you were already rehearsing all of the creative ways you were going to cuss out Ellison when you got back to your office. Frank stood stoically by the door, hand over his wrist, with his intimidating gaze focused solely on Steven.

“So, how you been? You look great by the way. Better than great, actually. Somehow you’ve gotten even prettier.”

Backhanded compliments. Classic Steven Price.

Clearing your throat, you pulled out your notebook and a pen from your bag, keeping your eyes on the interview guide that Ellison had given you. Unlocking your phone, you searched for your voice notes app.

“You mind if I record this?”

“You can do whatever the hell you want with me princess, you know that.”

Glancing up briefly to meet his eyes, you were met with a cocky smirk that you were all too familiar with. You always hated when he called you that, and you were certain you told him that every time he had. Completely ignoring his question, you pressed record and set your phone on his desk.

“Mr. Price-”

“Babe, c’mon. That sounds so formal. You know me. You can call me Steven.”

You wanted to gag at the way he made it sound like a privilege to use his first name.

“Alright, Steven. What made you want to run for District Attorney?”

“Seemed like a great gig.”

“That…that’s it?”

Steven pursed his lips as he gave a light shrug, crossing his fingers together as he laid his hands on his chest and aimlessly swiveled his chair from left to right.

“Um…okay. What do you feel is most important-”

“You been to that place in uptown? New one that just opened?”

“What?”

“It’s a high end sushi place. You know, your favorite. Anyway, I own it-”

Narrowing your eyes slightly, you pursed your lips and gave a light shake of your head.

“That was your favorite, actually.”

A huge grin broke out across Steven’s face as he sank his top teeth into his bottom lip.

“You remember.”

“I was very good at remembering things, Steven. Can we focus?”

“We should go.”

“Go where?”

“To my restaurant.”

“I hate sushi.”

“No you don’t, we used to go all the time.”

“Because you wanted to go all the time. Can we please get back to the interview?”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you willed your eyes to focus on the next question while tucking your hair behind your ears.

“What has been the greatest reward of running your campaign?”

“Getting to see you again.”

Slamming your notebook shut, you pressed the button on your phone to stop recording and stared over at him sharply.

“Are you going to answer any of these questions seriously? This article is about you and you’re giving me nothing to work with.”

Steven rolled his eyes as he sat up straighter, leaning his elbows on his desk as he looked over at you with another ingenuine smirk.

“Why don’t we discuss them over dinner?”

“Why don’t you answer them now so I can do my job? I have a deadline.”

“Tell you what, I’ll have my assistant email those answers over by the end of the day, and I’ll send a car for you Friday. Where do you live now?”

You couldn’t help but gawk at the audacity flowing from his privileged mouth.

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“Of course not. I’ll come pick you up Friday, alone, and we can catch up.”

Steven glared over in Frank’s direction as he emphasized the word ‘alone’, and before you could respond, Frank’s hardened voice boomed throughout the office.

“Yeah, that ain’t happenin’.”

Frank had been so quiet, you almost forgot that he was there. You were suddenly nervous to turn around and see what his face looked like. Steven glowered over at him, clearly feeling emboldened behind the “safety” of his fancy desk.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t talking to you…John, was it? You know this really isn’t necessary, you being here. I’d actually prefer it if you waited outside.”

“And I’d prefer if you answered her fuckin’ questions so we could be on our way.”

Steven chuckled humorlessly as he ran a hand through his neatly cropped blonde hair, looking over at you while gesturing towards Frank.

“Who is this guy? A little old for an intern, isn’t he?”

“He’s my bodyguard, and his name is Frank.”

Steven stared at you silently for a moment before his eyes trailed over to Frank, the confidence in them dissipating slowly. It seemed like he was really looking at Frank for the first time, like he was finally paying attention to him since the first encounter in the lobby, and you noticed the way he visibly tensed when his eyes wandered over his large form.

“What do you need a bodyguard for?”

“Pissed some people off I shouldn’t have.”

“Yeah, well…you were always good at that.”

“The fuck is that s’posed to mean?”

Steven rolled his eyes as an irritated expression took over his features, pointing his finger towards the door.

“Could you just wait outside, man? She’s safe with me, alright.”

“That ain’t for you to decide.”

“Oh? And who needs to sign my permission slip?”

You heard the thunder of Frank’s boots crossing the short distance on the floor, and you instantly reached out to grab onto his wrist once he reached you to halt his angry movements. Steven scrambled all the way back in his chair, pushing away from his desk as he stared up at Frank with wide eyes.

“Frank-”

“Me. And as far as I can tell, your candyass would be fuckin’ worthless if it came down to it. Pretty sure if I came behind that fuckin’ desk right now, the only goddamn thing you would know how to do is call daddy for help, yeah?”

Rising up from your chair, you gripped onto Frank’s wrist a little tighter and moved to stand in front of him to put some distance between him and Steven. You placed your palm flat against his broad chest to capture his attention, momentarily stunned by the anger that was burning in his eyes once they snapped down to you. As your lips parted slightly, you pleaded with your eyes for him to calm down as you whispered quietly.

“Easy, big guy. He’s not worth the trouble. He’s just being a dick, alright?”

Frank clenched his jaw as he looked over your head at Steven, his nostrils flaring slightly as he gave him an unimpressed once over.

“Asshole’s gonna be eatin’ out of a fuckin’ straw the next couple months if he don’t cut the shit.”

Sinking your teeth down into your bottom lip to stifle the giggles that threatened to slip, you gave a slight nod of your head.

“If he acts up again, you have my full permission. But for now, please don’t mangle him. We are in a courthouse.”

Frank glanced down at you, his dark eyes slightly softer as he grunted lowly, giving Steven one more angry glare before he let out a heavy exhale and took four steps back to stand directly behind your chair. It took every ounce of self control not to smirk as you turned around to face Steven, gesturing to him with the paper in your hand containing the interview questions.

“Look, I think we should just call it a day. I’m not even supposed to be writing this article. I’ll tell my boss you couldn’t make it, and the guy that was supposed to be writing this can deal with you.”

Steven suddenly shot up as you reached for your bag and held his hand out.

“Wait, no. Don’t…c’mon, don’t go. I don’t want someone else writing it. I want you to. You actually know me, you can make me look good-”

“That’s not what I’m here to do, Steven. I came here to ask questions and get answers, and write an article based on those answers. How the article reflects you is solely up to you.”

Steven let out a displeased sigh as he settled his hands on his hips, lightly nodding his head in your direction.

“Alright. Alright, no more bullshit.”

Steven refused to look at Frank as he sat back down, his cerulean eyes nervously watching you as he flashed you a timid smile. Letting out a heavy sigh, you slowly sat back down and started recording again, clicking the top of your pen as you looked at him.

“Why do you really want to be District Attorney?”

“It’s the next step in my career.”

“And what makes you think you’ll be good at it?”

“I come from a long line of successful politicians that made it their life’s work to give back to the city and make it a better place.”

“That’s not what I asked. What makes you think you will be good at it?”

“Well clearly you haven’t done your homework, or you’d know I’m a pretty damn good attorney. Never lost a case.”

Steven’s wink simultaneously made you nauseous and also lit a fire within you. Cocking your head to the side lightly, you narrowed your eyes and smacked your lips together.

“I got handed this piece this morning, so no, I didn’t have time to prep. You still haven’t answered my question.”

“I don’t understand?”

“Of course you don’t. Okay um…what’s the most important issue to you? What’s the priority for your campaign?”

“Vigilantes.”

Your eyes immediately flew up from the paper at that word, and you found yourself sitting up a little straighter as you stared over at him.

“What about them?”

“Well, they’re a problem. I mean…isn’t that why you need him?”

Steven chuckled lightly as he looked up at Frank, abruptly switching his attention back to you as he clamped his mouth shut.

“No. I need Frank because a bunch of cowards think they’re making a difference by blowing up New York, and I told them how I really felt about them.”

Steven rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, chuckling with a shake of his head.

“That’s because you always have to be difficult. Always have to have the last word. You can’t ever let anything go, Y/N. It’s always a fight with you. You know, people would respect you more and like you more if you weren’t always so combative. You know if you were…softer…not so loud-”

“You keep runnin’ your goddamn mouth like that, I’m really gonna enjoy puttin’ my foot up your ass. Watch how you fuckin’ talk to her.”

Dismissing Frank with a wave of your hand behind you, an incredulous scoff left your mouth as you stared at Steven with narrowed eyes.

“So you think it’s okay for a group of terrorists to threaten me because I hurt their feelings?”

“What? No, of course not. I just…I mean you kinda brought it on yourself. Look, these guys, these…’Defenders of Freedom’, they’re a problem, and one I personally plan to take care of as DA. Especially if you’re involved. But vigilantes are a bigger problem.”

A look of complete incredulity covered your features as you scoffed, digging your nails so hard into your palm, you thought you might bleed.

“How are vigilantes a bigger problem than terrorists-”

“Because they think they’re above the law.”

“And these people don’t? At least vigilantes are actually trying to help people. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen put Wilson Fisk away, and brought down a lot of corrupt cops and politicians, some of which worked for your father, I might add. Jessica Jones brought down not one, but two powered killers. Luke Cage saved Harlem-”

“What about the Punisher?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Frank stiffen, but you were so enraged you couldn’t hardly think straight. You dug further crescent shaped indentations into your palm, sitting up even straighter as you tilted your chin up in a sign of defiance.

“What about him?”

“That psycho killed over 60 people, that we know of. He turned New York into a fucking war zone, Y/N.”

“He wiped out three of the most dangerous gangs in the city. As far as some officers were concerned, he did them a favor.”

“He shot up a hospital-”

“No one got hurt-”

“You aren’t seriously defending that lunatic. A killer is a killer, Y/N. He thought he was doing the city a favor, just like these guys are. Anyone can decide that they’re the good guy that knows what’s best. That’s the problem with vigilantes. There is a reason we have a justice system-”

“You of all people know how easily that justice gets manipulated.”

Steven set his lips in a firm line as he stared at you, eyeing you silently before shaking his head adamantly.

“There is a system, I never said it was perfect, but we have laws in place, and people to uphold them. Daredevil goes around beating the shit out of people and committing felonies every night and calls it justice. Jessica Jones has committed murder more than once, and it was excused as justice. Luke Cage is an ex-convict that notoriously assaults police officers, and calls it justice. You see the pattern here?”

Clenching your fists tightly, you tried to contain how they trembled with rage.

“I think we’re done here. Thank you for your time, Mr. Price.”

Turning off the recording, you vexingly shoved everything into your bag, abruptly standing up to pull it over your shoulder. Steven shot up from his chair to rush over towards you.

“Y/N-”

Frank swiftly placed his body between yours and Steven’s, completely blocking your view of him.

“You take one step closer, I’m gonna make good on my promise.”

An exhausted sigh slipped past your lips as you lightly grasped at the back of Frank’s shirt.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Another sigh fell from your mouth when he didn’t budge, and you tugged at his shirt harder.

“Let’s go, Frank.”

The second the elevator doors shut, Frank turned to face you, arching one of his dark brows in question as he gave you a pointed look. You rolled your eyes and leaned your head against the wall with a quiet groan.

“Don’t start.”

“How the hell do you know that asshole?”

“I said don’t start.”

“That’s too damn bad. I need to know.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s my goddamn job, that’s why.”

Rubbing at your temples as you closed your eyes, you practically sprinted out of the elevator once the doors opened.

“Your job is to protect me, Frank. Not to be in my business.”

“Sorry to break it to ya, sweetheart, but your business is my business now. I gotta know who you’re gonna be around so I can-”

“I’m not gonna be around him. I had to interview him to cover someone’s article. That’s it. This is a one time thing-”

“He asked you on a date.”

“So?”

Frank grabbed your wrist to stop you from rushing down the steps, and the force nearly pulled you directly back into his chest. You tilted your head back to look up at him in puzzlement.

“You goin’?”

“What?”

“With him, on a date.”

“Are you seriously asking me that-”

“Yes I’m fuckin’ serious. I gotta know who you’re around. We need to know who to keep tabs on. Anyone could try to-”

“He’s my ex-boyfriend from college, Frank. He’s not a threat. And no, I’m not going on a date with him. Happy?”

Frank’s jaw immediately tensed, and his eyes narrowed as he stared down at you in very clear disappointment. Letting out a dry scoff, he shook his head in disbelief before looking down at you again with an emotion in his eyes that almost looked like disgust.

“The hell did you see in him?”

You had always known that Steven was a shitty boyfriend. That was never something you questioned. But sometimes you forgot just how shitty he was towards you. As you stared up into Frank’s deep brown eyes, Steven’s words echoed around in your head, and it made your heart sink with dejection.

You always have to be difficult.

You brought this on yourself.

People would respect you more if you weren’t always so combative.

People would like you more if you were softer, not so loud.

Steven never supported you. He never took the time to read something you wrote, even when you begged. He spoke over you when you were talking, constantly dismissed your feelings, and made it his personal mission to make you feel small. He never wanted you to shine brighter than him. He never wanted you to disagree with him. He tried to fit you into a locket of his liking and wear you around his neck like a prize. He never loved you. He loved the idea of you he had crafted in his head. And when you shattered that illusion, he despised you and tore you down with his words.

Frank would never treat you that way.

Frank never once made a negative comment about why he ended up being your protection. Hell, even Billy hadn’t. Ellison had encouraged you to write the article. He gave the approval.

Frank read your work. Frank listened to your interview. Frank came to your defense every single time.

He treated you better than anyone ever had. Even when you were in the wrong, and you antagonized him, he was still so gentle with you in his own way. He remembered little things about you. He apologized when he raised his voice or lost his temper. He offered comfort when you needed it. He listened to you.

And now as he stood in front of you, you couldn’t answer him.

“I…I don’t know.”

Frank’s face all of a sudden softened at the somber tone of your voice and the downcast look in your eyes. For a moment, the two of you stood there on the steps, silently staring into each other’s eyes.

Clearing his throat, Frank looked away and nodded with his head in an aimless direction.

“We uh…should get goin’.”

Glancing down at your feet, you closed your eyes for a moment as you tried to compose yourself, giving a slight nod of your head as you turned around to descend the steps.

“Yeah, we should.”

tags: @hopeful-evermore @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @ferns-fics @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @neverlandcity @charmedkim

#frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle series #bodyguard!frank castle fic #bodyguard!frank castle series #bodyguard!frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher fic #the punisher series

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whorergal · 1 year

Text

SURPRISED?

summary: you're ghostface instead of ethan…

warnings: descriptions of blood & murder. overall really gory. language (cussing).

pairings: ethan landry x fem!reader, platonic sam carpenter x fem!reader, enemies quinn bailey x fem!reader

authors note: ethan and quinn aren't related in this one btw!! i really liked this idea so here's me trying my best to write it to the best of my ability 😭 also anika lives bc she's my pookie <3

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You sat in Quinn's room, making sure to stay clear from the windows she had purposely left open. Messages from Ethan and your friends in general went crazy as they wondered where you were and why you weren't answering. You rolled your eyes, understanding their worry but seeing as you were the cause behind their constant paranoia, you found it annoying to be bothered.

Quinn had left her room, saying she needed to not act suspicious. Her hookup would be making his grand reveal in a couple of minutes where you would be hiding in the closet, hoping to not be forced to witness something that would physically make you ill.

Noises outside the room got louder as you heard everyone laughing. It brought a smile to your face until you forced yourself to drop it.

Yes, you loved your friends. You had known Tara, Chad, Mindy and Sam your whole life—how could you not grow to love them? But, then again, you weren't planning their demise half the time you spent with them until last year when you grew vengeful.

Ethan was just an fortunate bonus you collected once moving to New York that happened to please Quinn, her being the mastermind and all. She liked the idea of getting someone like him to trust you just like how her brother Richie did with Sam.

Although, you did end up falling for Ethan and not just for the act. It was never in your head to make him love you just to hurt him in the end until Quinn meddled into your life and found out about you two. Then, the thought of your reveal and how he would react never left your mind. For some reason, it never crossed your thoughts that you would eventually have to face him seeing as you were too in love with him to kill him.

Your phone screen lit up, a picture of Ethan you took when he was studying popped up. You sighed, making sure to keep your voice low as you answered. "Hey, E."

"Y/N/N, where are you? I thought you said you'd be coming over tonight?" Ethan's worried voice caused your heart to swell. God, you hated lying to him.

"Yeah, I know but I'm still stuck in class," you lied very effortlessly. "My teacher offered to give us extra time to prepare for our next exam so I decided to stay. I might be around in an hour or two."

"Why didn't you tell me? I would've stayed with you," he immediately told you. "I hate knowing you're alone."

"E, I'm fine. I'm in a class full of thirty other people plus my professor," you reassured him, staring into the ceiling.

"Doesn't matter, Y/N/N. What if Ghostface attacks you on your way over? Or what if he's there at—"

"Hey, hey," you interrupted his rambling. "Look, I've done this once before, he'll have to try a lot harder then sneak attacking me while I'm in an Econ class."

"Y/N, I'm being serious," Ethan said sternly.

"So am I," you countered with a breathless chuckle. "How about this? I'll call you when I'm on my way over and we can facetime so you can make sure I'm okay."

The line was quiet until you heard a soft, "okay."

"I love you, E," you told him sadly, hoping he couldn't tell as you continued. "Please be safe. If anything happens, don't play the hero, okay? I can't lose you."

You were saying that mostly for yourself. You'd be the one behind the mask and if he did get in the way, you'd be forced to do something you didn't want to do. You had managed to steer Quinn clear from him until tonight and the last thing you wanted to do was cause him any ounce of pain.

"I should be telling you that," he told you with a smile, you could hear it through his voice. "I'll try not to, alright. Just…I love you. If anything does happen tonight and I can't say it again, just know that I really love you, Y/N."

"Don't say that, E," you interrupted. Your heart felt like it was stuck in your throat. "I won't let anything happen to you."

"You can't control it, Y/N/N," he let out weakly. "But I'm sure nothing's gonna happen, okay? So just worry about your exam and call me later. I love you."

"I love you too, E," you mumbled sadly.

"Get a room!" you heard Mindy yell in the background.

"Minds, stop. It's cute," Sam defended you two.

"Bye, E." You laughed; you couldn't help it.

You hung up the phone, staring down at his contact picture for a second longer. For some reason, that one conversation alone had you rethinking your choices. Would it be so bad to back out of the plan now? Quinn and her dad can take care of the rest—you only had to do with those two college nerds deaths and another guy who you'd seen bothering Ethan on campus, but that was it. The rest was Wayne, which was only the bodega and Sam's therapist.

The thought of even having to possibly kill Sam, especially Sam, because of how close you were with her made you sick to your stomach. So, why were you still apart of a plan that ensured her death along with your friends?

Your second thoughts were interrupted by the swift open of Quinn's door. The redhead came barging in, wearing her pink silk nightgown that barely reached her thighs.

"Nice conversation with your boyfriend," she told you with a certain distaste in her tone.

"Had to make sure I didn't sound suspicious," you defended yourself, getting up from the floor but staying in the corner of the room. You were lying.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "How long are you going to string him along? He's going to hate you when he finds out what you've done…that's if he survives that long."

"He stays out of our plan, remember?"

"Where's the fun in that?" she whined, walking over to mess with your black robe. "He takes you away from me all the time."

You shoved her away. "I told you, Quinn; you and your dad don't touch him. That was our only agreement."

"Yeah, it was when you realized you loved him," she had to point out. "He's turning you against us. Before you met him, you were excited to get revenge just like us."

"No, he's not but is it bad for me to not want to see the one person I actually care about harmed? It's not my fault that the only person you cared about was murdered."

"Just because you're apart of this plan doesn't mean I won't kill you," Quinn threatened as your words fell loosely from your mouth. You just couldn't stand when she badmouthed Ethan in front of you.

"Oh, shut up," you replied annoyedly. "Your dad won't even let you get behind the mask."

Quinn got quiet because it was true until she spoke, having to have the final word. "Fine, you got kills but do you really think Ethan would date a murderer? What're going to do when we complete act three? You think he's going to want to be with you after you helped kill his friends?"

"Fuck off," you snapped, letting her words get under your skin which you shouldn't have.

Quinn was going to continue bothering you but her phone went off. Her current boyfriend of the month was on his way up, forcing you to put the mask over your head and hide inside the closet.

Surprisingly, she didn't do much with him. You were sure she wouldn't pass up the opportunity to make you watch her but it seemed she was excited to get on with the plan. It only made up of occasional frisky touching, some things that were still counted as sexual activities that did make you look away but nothing too extravagant.

He ended up leaving to her connected bathroom to take a shower, saying how he felt dirty. Quinn then started to call her dad, basically filling him in and then she turned to you, gesturing for you to make your grand appearance as she saw Danny standing by his window just like planned.

Your boots helped make you seem taller as you stalked toward her very slowly. Her back was facing you as she rambled on the call about something. Your hand gripped your knife as the thought of actually killing her surfaced in your head. No, you couldn't do that.

Noises coming from across the window caught your attention as you looked up, seeing Danny pointing at you while yelling words you couldn't hear. You tilted your head at him, walking away inside the bathroom.

Killing her boyfriend wasn't too hard as you caught him off guard but the scene had become gory. You'd taken your pent up anger on the poor guy, his blood covering the entire room that you didn't notice until you backed away from where he laid lifelessly in the tub, naked.

You grimaced at yourself and what you had done.

Walking back into the room, you decided to start the act earlier than Quinn wanted, knowing it would piss her off. You rose your knife and planted it straight into the mattress, startling her as she let out an authentic gasp.

She began to scream, making sure to keep it leveled so it didn't sound too suspicious to everyone outside her room. She needed them to believe she was having sex so they wouldn't interrupt before she could get in her costume, which was just covering her entire body with fake blood and a few slashes from your knife to make it even more realistic.

You pulled her up, wrapping your arm around her neck just as you saw Danny take a picture. Then you tossed her to the floor where she crawled to the fake blood and splattered it all over herself and her room.

A couple more seconds, she continued to scream until she stopped and you heard the group outside running toward the door until the silence made them halt.

"Showtime," Quinn whispered proudly.

It made you sick to your stomach.

You held her up, taking a second to let her collect herself before you threw the door open and charged her body at them. Quinn fell on Anika, taking her and Mindy down as the girl screamed at Quinn's "dead" body.

Then, everyone scattered. You saw Chad pull Ethan and Tara toward the direction of the door and you decided to let them go on the account it would mean Ethan was safe. You headed straight toward Mindy, slashing her in the arm, knowing it would be enough to make her weak as blood always made her squeamish to the point she would pass out at times.

Your goal was to get Mindy. That was the plan Quinn had created for you to do but you couldn't. The rush of it all hit you once you saw her hunch over to hold her wound, trying not to vomit at the sight of the blood.

Anika was about to attack you for what you had done to her girlfriend but you got smacked in the face but a large object, sending you flying against the TV. When you peered through your mask, you saw Ethan's familiar light blue shirt and his curly hair, reaching down to help Mindy and Anika. Fuck, you thought. You should've known.

"Come on," he urged them both up.

You collected yourself quickly, slicing him in the arm and throwing him and Mindy against the table. The sound of his wince caused your heart to break but at least he wasn't in your way anymore.

Turning, you gripped Anika and pulled her up by the throat, which wasn't that hard at how light she was to carry. You slammed her against the wall and drove the knife in her gut. She let out a scream that actually made you sad. You could feel yourself losing grip on your knife. Thankfully, you were hit in the head again, causing you to fall to the floor and drop Anika.

Sam dropped the knife dispenser and went reaching for Anika as she carried her inside Quinn's bedroom. Ethan and Mindy were following closely behind. You got up and slammed against the door, causing Sam and Ethan to push against you even harder.

You stopped, remembering the second entrance to Quinn's room. You ran around and almost got through until you saw Ethan immediately run to slam the door in your face. Without thinking, you slipped through the crack and swung your knife around which sliced his skin again, making him even more annoyed, putting full force in his last push. You fell back just as you heard Sam and Mindy put a dresser against it so you couldn't enter.

Would it be so bad to let them go? You were about to give up until you looked behind at where Quinn was playing dead and she gave you a head gesture, as if telling you to get through that door and do something.

You started to kick it, slam your body against it, and slowly but surely the door started to crack. You could finally see in and you saw that they were trying to leave through the window on a ladder, thanks to Danny. You rolled your eyes, growing psychically exhausted but you continued to push against the door, the dresser beginning to shake.

Purposely, you didn't use your strength. You wanted them to survive. Poor Anika made you see that once you saw the gutted look on her face. You weren't close with her but she was a nice girl and she deserved to live. So did Sam and Mindy. Especially so did Ethan.

Sam went first, you caught sight of her hair just as she made it through. Then, Ethan of course had to make sure one of the girls went before him. Mindy gave Anika a kiss, thinking it'd be their last as she shakily made it on the ladder and got through. You continued to slam against the door as you watched Ethan pick Anika up from the bed, walking her toward the window where he helped her get on the ladder and kept it stable for her.

She took awhile to get through that you unfortunately made it inside just as Ethan was barely exiting the window. You stalked toward it slowly because you knew you weren't going to let him die.

"Ethan, you have to hurry!" Sam and Mindy screamed.

He turned around and the scared look on his face could've been enough to kill you. You slammed your knife on the window sill and grabbed the ladder.

They all were expecting some foul play on your end, encouraging him to be quicker but you didn't. Instead, you held the ladder down and stabilized it for him. Sam watched in shock. She was the only one who noticed your action that had been completely out of character.

Ethan made it inside Danny's apartment a second after and they all looked at you. You tilted your head at them, pulling your knife out. Then, you were gone. You didn't even wait for Quinn because you needed to get out of that costume and in Ethan's arms as quick as possible.

#ethan landry #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #jack champion #scream imagine #scream vi imagine

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sgiandubh · 7 months

Text

When clueless, silence is golden

I was just browsing around while looking for something completely different and stumbled upon this quintessential Mordorian POV:

Disclosing a username is crass and I usually never do this, unless really necessary and relevant. So spare me the ad hominem argument you usually fumble around with, Disgruntled Tumblrettes. Yet, for all its intellectual paucity, this is interesting dissection material, since clearly this person hasn't got the slightest idea of what she is so confidently talking about.

First scenario at play: The Tasting Alliance, 'a company no one has ever heard of', booked and paid for the suite.

Not necessarily booked, nor necessarily paid, madam. In the real business world you are so clueless about, these arrangements are seldom - if ever - monetized. It's rather all about barter.

That company no one ever heard about - except, perhaps, #silly and totally irrelevant Forbes (https://www.forbes.com/sites/joemicallef/2023/04/13/the-tasting-alliance-and-reserve-bar-are-set-to-launch-top-shelf/?sh=b45f7085f6f1) - is the parent company of the San Francisco World Spirits Competition (SFWSC), largely acknowledged as at least one of, if not the world's leading spirits award contest. Google is your friend, you should try it some time:

The operative info here is that this evaluation comes from the Beverage Trade Network, a professional portal for spirit dealers. Having determined this, Tasting Alliance's IG number of followers is completely irrelevant, since we are talking about two very different targets, here. Its real leverage and weight on the global market does not really need the boost of an aggressive social media presence and the kind of events it hosts are not your favorite junior hockey league or elementary school cake and bake sale.

Let's look a bit further. It takes one click to get on the Tasting Alliance's website (https://thetastingalliance.com/). Granted, not all the information you need to understand its business model is right there and I had to go dig a bit (not without some help - merci encore!) to even get a grip on how these wheels are really turning.

The way they sell themselves is sober and confident. And completely disinterested in social media impact, to be honest:

So, in lieu of glitz and sequined bras, we have a success story in its own right, which started in Frisco in 1980, then continued in 2000, with the addition of the San Francisco World Spirits Competition. Further expansion followed in 2018, with the New York World Wine & Spirits Competition and 2019, when Dias Blue set a firm foot on the emerging Asian market, with the Singapore World Spirits Competition.

I doubt an explanatory drawing is needed as to the why of this expansion choice: it's all about baijiu, the old/new Chinese sorghum spirit and the everlasting love of the Far East for anything fermented. Lao-lao, the unspeakable Laotian homemade rice whisky, comes immediately to the mind of this blogger: the last bottle I saw, somewhere along the unexploded ordnance ridden Route 13, had a plump snake inside, as a naïve Viagra of sorts. Took a mouthful and thought I was going to die - but when spending the night in a longhouse with the Tai Lü people, you can't afford a faux-pas, can you? /end of travel memories intermezzo

By all my estimations, The Tasting Alliance is very profitable business. Let's unpack ( for current fees, see source: https://callingallcontestants.com/contest/2023-san-francisco-world-spirits-competition/):

Considering the 500 USD fee /entry (550, in 2023) in the competition and the fact that in 2022 there were approximately 5000 entries in the Frisco spirits' competition, we have a very rough turnover estimation of 500x5000= 2.5 million USD. That figure is just for one of the spirits competitions, mind you, and does not take into account what the winners probably pay for the right to mention their medals on their bottles (I am yet to see them on the SS gin bottles, btw), nor the multiple sidekick profit (e-shop sales, consulting and/or other distribution deals, etc). So, at the end of the day, I would comfortably multiply that base by 4, assuming a similar scale for all the other events they organize, which takes the yearly turnover at around 10 million USD and keeping in mind this is very probably a conservative estimation. I also assume costs are negligible, taking into account the discretion with which major players traditionally operate on that particular niche. Real expenses are probably limited to the activity of a handful of offices, sparingly and intelligently staffed. Advertisement is probably bartered and social media, well... you just saw the effort, haven't you?

But then there's the brand's real power on that market and this is the right time to talk about influence and impact. Perhaps this recent (2021) Men's Journal article will help us see better: https://www.mensjournal.com/food-drink/inside-the-san-francisco-world-spirits-competition

With a bit of luck, this could happen:

Sounds familiar? Of course and I bet that was S's strategy. If you imagined him doing the same exhausting booze tour every year (groping on top and seriously cringe on the sides), I think you might want to reconsider. I told you Sassenach Summer was a sandbox for more serious things to come and until now I have no reasons to change my mind. He did it for a reason and, mind you, that reason is not that the booze did or does not sell. It does. Restaurants start to feature it. Podcasts are being produced. The press starts to mention it (that recent New York Times article is evidence enough). This is not Lucky Luciano dealing in bootleg alcohol during the Prohibition and making obscene money over a fortnight. This is a serious business project that was delayed by COVID. That's all. And it takes time and patience and consistence. We know he has all those aplenty.

We also have the totally inane take on production costs for that podcast. It suddenly made me remember again my media expert past. It is with complete and educated confidence that I tell you: a potential 5K USD extra cost for renting that damn suite for the day is peanuts, even for a two-minute clip (let alone, in reality, a podcast interview, and I stand corrected if wrong), if such costs are covered by The Tasting Alliance. But my money is on a barter with The Shutters on the Beach, which would be, again, common business practice.

Second scenario: 'Shutters comped the room for free promo (...) for an actor most people haven't heard of.' You can throw timelines down my throat as many times as you wish and tell me he already stayed there several times and yell and screech, but here is what I think. Shutters didn't comp that suite for S, an actor most people haven't heard of, a decent, hard working start-up entrepreneur. If so (I doubt it), it would be logical to think Shutters comped that suite for The Tasting Alliance, which has a long documented history of partnerships with hotels that host their competitions:

So Shutters might have comped that room for a major player of the alcohol lobby world, happy that S, a returning client, picked them out of several possible options, because it was convenient. I don't believe for a second he stayed there.

This guy knows what he's doing and C's gin success completely depends and I bet will rely on that relentless networking effort. If anything, the Keepers of the Quaich recent development is only confirmation of all the above. But that's another story - very soon on this page.

IYKYK. The rest is uneducated cackle. But Mordor people were never the brightest bulbs in the fandom's chandelier, were they?

#BoozeWars

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madisonshoneybun · 9 months

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Hello! I was wondering if you still are continuing to take fanfic request if you could possibly do one where newt and the reader are childhood friends and newt really likes the reader and is going to their house to confess his feeling to them but he is sad because they moved to New York to find a Job and after a few years newt sees the reader sitting on a bench at a park in New York but doesn’t know if that’s them because they are sitting with their back away from him so he isn’t sure if that’s really them, and they finally reunited and he confesses his feeling when the reading is working a late night shift at the department store in the first film and is about to go home oh btw if you could possibly add a bit of jealous Tina let’s say newt has kept the same necklace which he wanted to give to the reader when he wanted to confess his feeling to them when he was younger and then Tina goes into Newt’s case and finds the necklace and assumes Newt wants to give it to her so she puts it on anyway and Newt says it is not for her and she has to give the necklace back to him but at the end when she sees how happy Newt and the reader are together she is happy and accepts the fact that newt likes someone else and finds someone else to love. Omg if you do this I will be so so so happy I have just had this idea for a really long time now but honestly probably couldn’t actually write it thank you so much!

Found

Warning - none

Pairing - Newt Scamander x Reader

Summary - Newt left you and you had no idea why. He was someone you could never stop thinking about but as luck would have it, he found you. Will he leave you again? Will he be honest about how he truly feels? Or will he hurt you all over again?

A/N - Jezz it's been a long time. I remember when I was in high school, and my only hobby was writing fanfiction. I never told a soul. But here I am, now 22 and still wanting to come back and write from time to time. Though I didn't start this Tumblr account when I was in high school. I hope you like what I've written and keep sending requests and I just might write some. Might even right a few then hop off the face of the planet again. I don't know, but enjoy :)

Words - 3555

______________________________________________________________

Your most fond memories were running round the halls of Hogwarts with Newt not far behind. Sometimes you were skipping class to be with his creatures, sometimes one would escape, and you were both trying to catch it and other times, your favorite times, it was just so you could both be alone. There was a spot, under the east stairwell, where you'd hide. Newt was never one for affection but for some reason, here, with you, he'd hold your hand. Tracing his fingers over the lines on your palm almost like he was trying to read your future. You always hoped he'd be reading them to see if your futures aligned. Maybe if the maps on your palm were identical to his, it meant you were meant to be together. Like it was destiny. He'd never let you read his though, only allowing you to wrap your fingers together, intertwining them like perfect puzzle pieces. You'd lean you head on his shoulder, and he'd mumble creature facts to you, describe their beauty with hints of passion. Unicorns and fairies were in muggle stories, always the good guys and the most beautiful creatures to them. But Newt could tell you anything about any creature in the world, and you'd fall for them without caring what they looked like. Newt loved magical beasts and you loved them too.

You sat on a bench, the cold New York air biting at your skin. You didn't mind though. It reminded you of home. You'd picked up knitting a few years after graduating from Hogwarts. Both your muggle and wizard friends teased you, saying it was so boring and it was something only old people did. You liked it though, and it was always a high when you finished a piece, whether it be gloves, a hat or a scarf, it always made you so happy. Right now you were working on a scarf. You'd come up with idea of making your own version of the house scarfs at Hogwarts. You had started with your house, seeing as it was obviously superior, and worked your way through the others. Right now, you were working on the finally one. Hufflepuff. It was bittersweet. It was almost like you were pushing it off as much as you could. Every time you saw that shade of yellow, you'd be brought back to Hogwarts. To that boy with the most beautiful green eyes. To his crocked smile and its cute fluffy hair.

You smiled gently at the half-made scarf. God did you miss him. You wondered what he was doing, if he was okay, and if he still loved beast. You laughed quietly and shook your head. Of course, he does, dead or alive, he would never not love them. Even if one were to kill him, he wouldn't blame them. You heard someone chuckled behind you. It made you jump to your feet, dropping everything you were doing on the ground. Your hand flew to your back pocket, where you keep your wand, as you spun around.

Your hands fell to my sides upon seeing him. Both beautiful eyes and that fluffy hair. "Newt?"

He looked just as surprised to see you as you were of seeing him. Almost like he wasn't expecting it at all. What did he expect laughing at a random woman in the cold? A heavy sigh left your lips. "Were you just laughing at me Mr. Scamander?" You thought, seeing as you were both adults, it might be better to address him properly. You didn't have any idea on how he felt about you, if he had moved on from your friendship from school. It only felt polite to call him by his last name. He stilled and opened his mouth to speak. You could almost visually see the sweat form on his face and the color leave his eyes. "Uh no- I wasn't" He stuttered, waving his hands in the air.

You put your hands on your hips and titled your head to the side. "I jumped so hard cause I heard you laugh. Don't try to fool me." The flustered look on his face was so cute, you almost felt bad for teasing him. You weren't the same girl you were back then, growing more confident as the days went by. You wouldn't be so easily flustered by him like when you were little, but you doubt he'd even remember though moments. Or tell you about them at that. He looked just as flustered, maybe even more as he listened to you speak. It started to make you laugh and you waved a hand at him. "It's alright Scamander, I'm just teasing you. Can't handle a bit of teasing from an old friend?" His shoulders dropped, relaxing finally. For a moment, he still said nothing. Looking you up and down for a moment before finally opening his mouth to speak properly to you. "I heard you laugh and I couldn't help it. Yours is contagious." A blush crept up your neck.

He looked the same but also so different. He was taller than you now, more built, leaner. His jaw sharp, a bit longer hair, and this aura about him. He still felt a bit shy but exuded this confidence that you've never seen in him before. What had changed? How did he still feel like that kid from so long ago but I feel so mature? How stupid could I be? He's a grown man. You looked down at your items on the floor and crouched to get them. He crouched too but soon stood back up. "What are you doing here?" You sat back down, and he took a seat next to you. "I'm passing through. On my way to Arizona to release a Thunderbird I rescued from Egypt... though..." He looked down at his hands like he was ashamed. "It appears some other creatures escaped my case, so I have to find them before anything bad happens to them."

You could feel his sadness wrap around you. It felt cold and seeing him after not seeing him so long didn't erase your memories of him. His love for all magical creatures. You took his hand, like he had done to you all those times under that stairwell, and squeezed tightly. "Let me help you." His eyes moved to yours and for a moment they looked like there were stars in them. Like hearing you say that made him the happiest in the world. Like you weren't afraid or anger at him for leaving all those years ago but it soon faded. Knowing what little he knew about what was going on in this city, he never wanted to put you in danger so, like all those years ago. He pushed you away. He pulled his hand away and rose to his feet. He refused to look at you as he picked up his case. "I've got it. I know these creatures like the back of hand. Don't worry yourself with it." and without giving you even a second to respond, he began to walk away.

Seeing his back to you, slowly getting farther and farther away, you had no idea what to do. When he left you tried to stop him, but he wouldn't open up to you about why. You could never understand it all. But you did understand was how much he hurt you. How much it hurt to have him lie to your face. And how much it hurt begging him to be honest with you, begging you to stay, and having him still leave you behind. You weren't going to do again. Not this time. You were going to let him go.

____________________

Newt had been keeping himself occupied in his case all night. The others had no idea what to do. Something must've happened but none of them were close enough to him to ask. Jacob was the first to try, but all he got was one-word responses. Queenie tried to but Newt didn't even bare her a glance. Tina was the only one absent from this whole ordeal. She was inside the shed, while Newt was taking care of his creatures and Jacob followed him like a lost puppy. She was looking through his things, trying to find anything about him. They had gotten close, and had bonded through this while ordeal, even though it wasn't entirely over yet. She could feel her feelings growing for him the more they interacted with him. When Newt saved her, looked her in the eyes and promised her that'd he'd catch her, she felt something. She had felt so safe and cared for. She had a slight worry that he might leave her. Save himself and then go save his case. But he stayed and the look in his eyes felt like a silent promise that he wasn't going to leave her.

She opened up drawer after drawer. Not really rummaging through, just moving a few things around. She eventually came across and small velvet box. It was a beautiful royal blue. It was so soft and light. When she opened it, a soft glow illuminated her face. She took it out of the box, setting it aside and hold a beautiful silver necklace. It was short, like it would rest perfectly in-between a person's collarbones. These last few days, maybe he felt the same way? It felt too soon for something like this but everyone knew how awkward, yet charming Newt was. He was never very good with words. There was this tiny whisper in the back of her mind that said to ask him who this was for. Confirm with him first before she thought it belonged to her but the love she felt for him drowned out that voice. Slowly, as to not make a sound, she put it around her neck. Clasping it in place. She felt silly for being so quiet. No human on this ear could hear the sound if a necklace clamping in place but her nerves got the better of her. She closed the box, setting it back inside the drawer, and left the shed.

_____________________

You couldn't believe your boss called you in so late. You weren't a security guard; this wasn't in your job description. You were reading about everything going on, and you can't lie and say it didn't make you nervous. There was no denying it wasn't something more than normal muggle things. It had to be something you'd read about in school. Or some witch or wizard who was after something. You knew all this but could do nothing. You weren't with the Macusa, like you'd ever want to do anything like that, you were just a normal witch. The best you were good at was making positions and remembering wizard history. And of course, a butt load of creature facts. You also felt confident that the Macusa were handling it.

Never mind that. You had to be "keeping an eye out" as your boss had told you to do. This store had never been broken into at night, you never understood why. Shoplifters though? That has happened a few times. Since you didn't think anyone would dare try to break in, you brought you scarf to finish. It was almost done. Just a few more rows to go. Glancing down at the fabric in your hands, you remembered the park. How you were literally just looking at this stupid thing and thinking about him. Then he popped into thin air. Almost like you were granted a wish from the gods but now? Just looking at it stung. What did you do to deserve this treatment from him? Did he figure out your feelings and just had no clue on how to turn you down? If he didn't like you back you would've respected that decision, but he didn't even respect you enough to tell you why he was leaving. Before you could get too into your head you heard something fall to the ground. Luck truly wasn't on your side huh? First you wished for him and now you somehow jinxed this whole break in thing.

You stood, making slow, gentle movements around the front desk. Making your way over to what had dropped, you felt like there were eyes on you. And in an instant, you were grabbed from behind, a hand over your mouth. You went to scream but once your back met the person's chest you stared ahead. You saw Newt, holding a finger to his lips. Just looking at him made you anger. How could he treat you the way he did and then randomly show up here and have whoever was holding you touch you like this? What would he even need here? Then it hit you. His creatures.

You nodded and the person behind you let you go. You turned to face them and saw a man, he quickly whispered an apology to you, and two women. Then women were like polar opposites of each other, visually speaking. Nothing to do with their beauty, no, they were both probably the prettiest women you had ever met. They just looked different. Once blonde wearing pinks and a cute face of makeup, the other a brunette wearing darker clothes. After scanning the group your eyes fall back to Newt. "What's here?" he pointed past me, a floating purse making its way through the store. "Dougal, my Demiguise." You nodded slowly. You've heard a lot about those creatures. Newt always thought they were the most difficult to catch, or save even.

"Demiguise are fundamentally peaceful, but-" "they can give a nasty nip though." You shrugged. The room fell silent. You looked up at the other, who you still hadn't gotten the name of. They looked at you like you were crazy but Newt had this slight smirk on his face. "I learned from the master himself." You whispered and gently nudged Newts arm. After the interruption Newt was giving out orders. "You two, head that way. And try very hard not to be predictable. Y/n?" You hummed softly. "Stay with them?" You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was worried for them. These people obviously knew little to nothing. But you knew everything, you knew what to do and what not to do. You keep these people safe. And Newt trusted you so deeply with that task. You smiled and nodded, leading the way.

We were in some kind of attic and Newt was describing the beast to everyone in the room. Once you realized it was babysitting and that Newt "must have miscounted" you knew we were in for it. A huge and beautiful Occamy came forward. Staring straight into Newt's eyes. You felt a smile creep onto your face, you'd never seen one before but like you'd always thought, no matter the creature, it was a wonderful thing to see. Seeing how gently Newt was, you thought for sure he had it, that was until the blonde walked forward, almost like she was in awe, and accidently kicked a Christmas ordainment. It rang and the poor thing got spooked. Its body got moved around the room, almost snake like. Your first immediate thought was to get Dougal, something so big could easily kill him while it was startled like this. But once you made your way towards him, he made his way towards the other man and blondie. Now in the center of the room, Newt was gone, riding on top of it. Before you could even think to start looking around for something small or an insect, one of its wings came flying towards you. Hitting you square in the chest and making you slam into the floor. You head hurt the most, and you blacked out while gasping for air.

_____________________

We had just gotten the Occamy in the tea pot and for a spilt second everything left so calm. It felt like the weight he had been keeping on his shoulders had vanished, but it all faded when he saw you, the literal light of his light, laid limp on the floor. Tina had both hands on the tea pot and the lip so Newt ran to your side. "Y/n? Hey, wake up!" He shook you gently and then realized that was probably the worst thing he could be doing to you right now. His only other thought in mind was to take you into his arms and bring you into his case. He had put a cot in the shed, right by the entrance. Sometimes he just preferred to be asleep near his creatures. The sounds they made throughout the night were like little lullabies. He brought you down, the other following close behind, and laid you gently on it. Taking off his coat and laying that on top of you too. It was particularly cold but he still worried.

"Can you put my Occamy back and Dougal on his tree?" He didn't spare anyone a glance. But Jacob nodded, leading Queenie out of the room. But Tina stayed. She took a seat next to you, looking you over. It seemed she didn't snoop enough, or she was just blind as a bat because once she looked up towards Newt, she was a photo. A moving picture, of you, smiling so bright. Her hand slowly went to the necklace. She felt this ping in her chest. Over these past few days she thought her and Newt were becoming closer. Like they could be something more. Maybe not this soon, but over time, maybe something. It genuinely hurt more than she thought it would. While Newt was still distracted, making something to help you, she took off the necklace and gently placed it around your neck. Seeing it on you, it felt like it just belonged there.

She stood to her feet and gave Newt a gently pat on the back and left the room. Leaving the two of you alone.

______________________________

You slowly opened your eyes, your head heavy and throbbing. Your back also just completely bruised. You sat up slowly, touching your hand to your head. It was wrapped in gauze and a foreign cream over your collarbones, along with a necklace. You knew you weren't wearing it before but besides that, you were in so much pain. You glanced around the room and saw Newt, setting on the floor beside you, holding your free hand. You squeezed it and he opened his eyes, standing so quickly to his feet that he fell back a bit, leaning fully on the work bench behind him. "Are you alright?" you asked him with a chuckled. "Are you alright?" he made his way back to your side. His hand finding its way to the back of your head. He leaned down a bit, giving you a once over. You nodded. "I'm fine, though I will say that hurt more than when we tried to ride that Hippogriff we found in the forest." He moved away and went back to his work bench, grabbing something that must've been sitting there, waiting for you. He handed it to you and drank it without a second thought. Your body felt cool all of a sudden and like the pain was fading away.

He sat beside you, fiddling with his fingers. You grabbed his hands, like you'd done all those years ago but for the first time, he flipped his hand, allowing you to see the maps on his palm. He glanced at him, but his eyes were laser focused on your fingers as you ran them over the lines. Your eyes went back to his hands, much larger than yours. As you traced the lines they felt familiar. It felt like the same pattern he would trace onto you. Your heart was beating so fast. All this time you wondered why he was so fascinated by it, but he knew all along that you futures were aligned. You continued to stare and trace with a smile permanently etched on your face. "I love you."

Your eyes shot up. "I love you, y/n. I've loved you for so long and I've been terrified to tell you but..." He clenched his jaw. "When I saw you there, I was more terrified than ever. The thought of you not loving me back couldn't compare to the thought of you dying. So I knew I had to tell you. I'm sorry I never told you, and I'm sorry I left." Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. His beautiful green meeting your calm (y/e/c). His hand went to your cheek, thumbing rubbing your tears away. You hand went over his, and gently rubbed your thumb over his knuckles. A chuckle left your lips as the tears fell completely. "I love you too. I always have."

He smirked and you could see his shoulders relax. He was looking at you so intently and then down at your lips. Your eyes met again and he leaned forward, ever so slightly, then stopped. It was a silent way to ask permission. Then you leaned forward to, inviting him in. He took the invitation and slowly kissed you. It was soft, gentle and the best thing you've ever felt in your life. The happiness you both felt filled the room. This might be your new, fondest, moment.

Masterlist

#fantastic beasts and where to find them #fbawtft #newt scamander #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander x y/n #newt scamander x you #queenie goldstein #tina goldstein #jacob kowalski

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lurkingshan · 6 months

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Once again I'm here because I'm angry. There's been a lot of talk about Boston and what Jojo wanted or not to say about sluts and whatever. I, and other people I think, were struggling with the idea that Jojo would actually want that message out. So I went to see some interviews. And got kinda shocked about one thing that he said. (btw this is an actual quote.) He was talking about Boston reasons for his behaviour Jojo: Bad people don't need to have a backstory. They are just born sluts. A bad character doesn't need... (and then the interviewer says - he doesn't need tragedy to be bad) Exactly. And then he gets asked if he thinks Boston needs redemption and he emphatically says NO. And then talking about how much fun is writing the character he says this: Boston is such a fun character to write. yeah unpredictable he's like, he doesn't care. he doesn't have morals so we just like goes with the flow. bad people? no morals? humm... i don't know... So yeah, now I don't really know what to think about it. I was wondering what are your thoughts about this. I'm still gonna watch some more of this, because I'm a masochist that needs all the information, but yeah, I thought I would share. Thanks for the space

Yiiiiiikes. Okay, first let me preface this by saying that whenever I am reading/watching something that was either translated to English or spoken in English by a person with a different first language, I try not to get too hung up on specific word choice. By necessity we tend to go for the simplest possible words to convey meaning in those situations, and thus a lot of nuance gets stripped out.

That said, the sentiment is clear: Jojo saw Boston as a villain character without a moral code that he could deploy to cause chaos wherever he liked in the story. And he is definitely conflating his villainy with sexual promiscuity, which is the worst part of this quote and unfortunately aligns with the way that finale, and ultimately the themes of the show, were written. It definitely makes me side eye Jojo and as I’ve already said, I won’t be so inclined to trust him nearly as much next time.

Only Friends, however, has more than one writer, and I don’t think they all see it this way. If you think Boston is purely an irredeemable slut, you don’t write his breakup and reunion with Nick in the way that this show did. You don’t give depth to his situation with Atom. You don’t show his sincere emotion, his hurt, and his earnest desire to be with Nick while he can. With all the info we have now and in retrospect, it kind of feels like there was a bit of a tug-o-war going on with Boston’s story.

My understanding is that Den Panuwat, one of three writers on the show, is the one who adapted the novel version of the story, and there he changed Boston’s final arc significantly. Rather than Boston fucking Atom, he made his final conflict about his dad’s political career with Boston’s sexuality being used as a weapon against him. He wrote Boston and Nick ending on good terms. And he wrote a final chapter for Boston where he arrives in New York, finds a more accepting society and queer community who accept and understand him, and thrives.

I’m sure there were some non-artistic reasons why we couldn’t get this version of the story in the show (the politics story was likely vetoed for censorship reasons and they probably couldn’t afford to show us Boston in NY, for example), but the fact that Den wrote it signals that his perspective on Boston is not fully aligned with what Jojo said in that quote above. Perhaps we have him to thank for the empathetic portrayal and humanity we did see in Boston despite Jojo’s perspective on him. And Den has another show coming soon, so maybe we’ll see a clearer read of his own perspective on queer sexual politics without the GMMTV restrictions when we watch Playboyy.

#only friends the series #playboyy the series #thai bl #shan answers

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raainy-daze · 1 year

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Could you do a Rise!Donnie x Male!Reader where the reader struggles with feeling like they’re an annoyance and that the turtles don’t actually want him around-but Donnie does his best to try and show or say that he is wanted (and probably struggles to show that because well… he’s Donnie). Thanks!! (Btw I love your writing so much 🥺)

Operation Feel-Welcome

rise!donnie x male!reader

summary: donnie found out about your insecurities in a very not privacy-invading-way at all, and now he’s decided to do something about it.

word count: 2431

a/n: why is this thing so damn long by my standards? GOOD QUESTION.

I HAVE NO CLUE.

yeah i wrote my outline and suddenly it was just. much longer than i usually write?? oh well. sorry for posts being somewhat slowed down recently, i’ve been busy with the holiday season and school! thanks for requesting, i hope you like this!

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

He found out when he was reading your diary.

That sounds bad. It’s not as bad as it sounds, really. You were over for help with homework, and when you went to get something to eat, he picked up what he thought was your notes to get a grasp of the material. Who keeps their diary in a regular old notebook, anyways?

He hadn’t meant to read it, truly. It was just that the entry he’d opened to quite clearly had his name on it, and hey, how is he supposed to not read that?

That entry just so happened to detail all your insecurities about your social life. He was kind of shocked, really. He didn’t examine anyone’s emotions too closely, of course, he could hardly understand them sometimes. He didn’t know why you would feel this way. He loved being around you, even if he could only show it in his typical Donnie way (which is to say, not very well).

So, after briefly panicking when he heard you walking back as he still held your diary in his hands, he scrambled to put it back just the way you’d left it and spent the rest of the day more focused on how to remedy this than on algebra equations. (Granted, you didn’t notice. That guy could do most of these in his sleep.)

As soon as you left, Donnie had already built about a billion schemes in his head. Of course, in pure Donnie fashion, most of them were more than a little over the top and involved some level of explosives… okay, maybe that one was just an excuse to set something on fire, but there were some good ideas in there! Emphasis on idea. Not every idea turns out so great in practice, as Donnie ought to know by now.

•°. *࿐

Operation #1: Hang-Out.

Donnie decided to go with the simplest on his list first: instead of waiting for you to come to the lair, he’d come to you. Logically, if someone wasn’t wanted, they’d be the one initiating everything, right? And if he initiated it instead, that would certainly make you feel more welcome, wouldn’t it?

As always, Donnie’s ‘disguise’ was ridiculously simple. You were never quite sure how he didn’t get caught, but hey, this is New York City - people have seen weirder things, and have other stuff to worry about. So, walking down the street in his purple hoodie (albeit sticking to the emptier streets and the shadows), he went pretty much unnoticed.

Still glowing on his phone screen was your text conversation from about an hour ago.

Hello, (Y/N). What time do you get off school?

three, just like always

how come?

Would you mind if I met you after you get out?

sure??

everything good??

He hadn’t responded to the last text. He’d gotten too caught up in avoiding nosy kids asking about his skin to type anything.

At your school, Donnie found you sitting on the stairs leading up to the building, scrolling on your phone. He dodged around your classmates, apparently trying to go unnoticed. (He did not go unnoticed. You saw each of them give him a look.)

“Psst! (Y/N)! It’s me, Donatello!”

You blinked up at him. “Yeah, I gathered.” You grabbed your backpack and stood up. “Everything okay? Did Leo break an arm or something?”

“Oh, no, no, no, no!” You both began making your way down the sidewalk, going towards neither-of-you-really-knew-where. “I simply thought that…”

Donnie stopped in his tracks. He hadn’t gotten this far in his planning, as evidenced by walking towards he-didn’t-really-know-where. He had gotten to ‘meet up with (Y/N) on the surface’, but he hadn’t gotten to anything after that.

“…What kinds of things do you do for fun up here? We could, uh, do whatever that is?” He racked his brain. “You like that fast food place down the street, right? I’ll pay.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you need from the hardware store?”

“What?”

“When your being really nice to me like this, you’re usually buttering me up to get you something from the hardware store. What is it?”

“No, no, you just haven’t come down to the lair in a while, and-“

“I was at the lair yesterday.”

Crap, were you? He’d been holed up in the lab all day, designing updates for the turtle tank. No one had told him you were there.

“And I saw you the day before.”

Okay, that part he recalled. Bad excuse.

“Well-“

Your phone began ringing. You looked down at the screen, and back up at Donnie. “Crap, sorry, I’ve gotta go. Mom probably wants me back home. Just text me whatever it is you need and I’ll bring it around tomorrow, okay?”

And without even waiting for an answer, you turned on your heel and answered your phone, walking away from him.

Operation Hang-Out: Failed.

•°. *࿐

Operation #2: Arts-N-Crafts.

Donnie wasn’t exactly the best at social interactions, everyone knew that. Yesterday, he’d made the fatal mistake of not planning ahead. He assumed something would come to him, and it didn’t.

So, maybe it would go better with someone who did know how to interact with people.

It was time for Mikey to enter the endeavour.

“Oh, dearest little brother of mine, I have a dilemma of which I need your help to solve!” Donnie found Mikey in the middle of one of his art projects, painting on a bedroom walls again. “How would you like to assist me?”

Mikey looked up from his painting. He had several splotches of paint across his arms, even a bit on his face (was he trying to eat the paint? How did he do that?). “Are you trying to use me as a test subject again?”

“Pft, no, why would I do that?” Donnie laughed a very suspicious laugh. “No, really, this time it’s about (Y/N).”

“What about (Y/N)? Is he okay?” Mikey set his paintbrush down, now curious.

“I read his diary.”

For just a moment of silence, the brothers stared at each other.

“… Wha-“

“IN MY DEFENSE, IT WAS LITERALLY JUST A REGULAR SPIRAL NOTEBOOK, HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?”

Donnie explained the whole thing to Mikey, from the diary entry to yesterday’s failed attempt #1. Mikey agreed to help, and within the hour, attempt #2 was in progress.

This one was all up to Mikey. (Y/N) would be here any time now, and Mikey would insist that he needed your help with an art project. It wasn’t much, but the point was to make you feel included. Donnie smiled to himself when he saw you enter the lair and get dragged away by Mikey. There was no conceivable way this could possibly go wrong.

It went very wrong.

It went very wrong in less than thirty minutes.

To make a long story short, it turns out art supplies in the wider space of the lair combined with Leo trying to perfect a skateboarding move do not mix. Like, at all. Paint was everywhere, including on both you and Mikey. You had to leave and walk home covered in an uncomfortable amount of paint.

Operation Arts-N-Crafts: Failed.

•°. *࿐

Operation #6: Game-Night.

One after another, Donnie’s plans failed, as did the couple that Mikey offered. Eventually, they came to #6 on the list: risky, but promising.

You had never seemed to participate very heavily in game night before. You always seemed to appoint yourself as the score taker, opting to spectate instead. With the added context, Donnie couldn’t help but wonder if you did that to stay ‘out of the way’.

So, he’d test it by preemptively appointing Leo as score taker.

“But why?” Leo whined upon hearing the news that the majority had voted to back up Donnie’s decision.

“Because you spilled all my expensive paint!” Mikey narrowed his eyes at Leo as he carried a concerningly tall stack of board games into the living room.

“But I already cleaned that up!”

“Come on, Leo, it’s not that bad!” Raph pat Leo on the shoulder. “It’s, uh… good for math practice?”

Leo didn’t look very convinced.

Everyone gathered on the floor in front of Splinter’s old chair, making a circle around the board games. Donnie sat down next to you, and April was on your opposite side. You couldn’t help but notice how April was carefully examining the selection today - Donnie and Leo may be the most outwardly competitive, but you’d witnessed enough of these to know April was the real master at most of these games.

You followed her example. One of the first things you noticed was that this month, Uno was missing. You weren’t particularly surprised. Last month, Mikey had threatened to use an Uno card as a knife if anyone else gave him another +2.

It started off just fine. You started with Cards Against Humanity. It was fun. No death threats were made. Clue and Catan went much the same way.

It was Monopoly where it all went to shit.

“WELL, I WANTED TO BE THE STUPID THIMBLE, BUT I LET YOU HAVE IT. AND WHAT DO I GET FOR IT?!”

“IT’S NOT MY FAULT YOU LANDED ON MY SPACE!”

Mikey and Donnie were yelling, Donnie’s stack of money growing steadily smaller. Raph was stuck in jail, and April was quietly scheming. You were about 75% sure Leo, who was now the banker since there were no scores to be taken, was messing with transactions somehow. Honestly, that impressed you more than anything else. Pettiness levels were through the roof.

You pushed yourself backwards a bit as the argument began to escalate. “WELL MAYBE IF YOU DIDN’T TAKE THE THIMBLE EVERY STUPID TIME!”

“SINCE WHEN DO I TAKE IT EVERY TIME?”

“Okay, well, sometimes Leo takes it, but still-“

“Hey, don’t drag me into this!”

“I won’t drag you into this when you give me what I’m actually owed, Leo!”

Leo reached over for an unused piece. He threw it…

And it hit you right in the eye.

“OW-!” Your hand jumped up to where it hit you.

“LEO!”

“CRAP, I’M SORRY, I WAS AIMING FOR DONNIE-“

April was trying to get you to take your hand off your eye so she could check it, but taking the pressure off just hurt more. Thankfully, when she did get to see it, it didn’t look serious. It did certainly put a damper on the rest of the night, though.

Operation Game-Night: Failed.

•°. *࿐

Operation #21: Help-In-The-Lab.

It had been a month and a half since he read the diary entry. Nothing seemed to work. Nothing that he noticed, anyways.

Not all of his plans ended in total disaster, but none ever seemed particularly successful, either. You never seemed particularly happier than usual. He didn’t know what he was doing wrong.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts and his projects that he didn’t even notice you come into the lab. He didn’t notice until you were sitting right next to him. “Hey, Donnie.”

“JEEZ-“ Donnie dropped his screwdriver.

You picked it right back up and handed it back to him. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, you just scared me.”

“No, I mean in general.” You drummed your fingers on the desk. “You’ve been acting weird lately.”

Crap. You’d caught on.

Donnie let out that laugh that very clearly meant he was hiding something. “Oh, no, I’m fine! Weird? What do you mean weird?”

“I mean weird. Like the weird you’ve been since that time after school? You never texted me what it was you wanted, by the way.”

There was a silence as Donnie debated what to say.

“… Working on Sheldon?”

Donnie looked back down at the robot lair across the desk. “Oh, yeah. He ran into a wall a few hours ago, and now I’ve gotta fix him. Robots, amirite?”

You half smiled, but it didn’t look like your heart was in it.

“… Hey, mind passing me those screws?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” You grabbed the nail box he was pointing at on the opposite end of the desk and set them down beside him. “What is it you’re doing, exactly?”

“Oh, well, I’m mostly just fixing some dents. There wasn’t too much internal damage, luckily, I just had to change out a few wires.”

“That’s good.”

It was quiet for a while. The silence was just on that line where Donnie couldn’t decide if it was a comfortable silence, or… well, an uncomfortable one.

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Why was he talking?

“Yeah?”

“Would you be mad if I maybe, oh I don’t know… accidentally read a really personal entry in your diary because I didn’t realize it was your diary?”

“… What?”

Donnie hadn’t planned on owning up to it, but at this rate, he was getting nowhere. Screw it. “Well, you were here for homework, and I just wanted to check your notes, but they weren’t your notes, and I saw my name and I couldn’t stop myself-“

“Wait, what? When did this happen?” You looked more totally confused than anything else. “Which one did you read?”

He sighed. “It was talking about how you felt like we didn’t want you around. And that’s not true! It really isn’t. So I’ve been trying to make you feel more welcome. But… yeah, you remember the Monopoly incident.”

“Oh.” You paused. “So that’s what’s been happening.”

“Yeah.” Both of you were quiet. If it wasn’t awkward before, it definitely was now.

“You really aren’t annoying, though.” Donnie broke the silence. “I mean, you’re my favorite person.”

“Your favorite person? What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I like hanging out with you. You’re… im-por-tant to me.” He said it like he’d never even thought of liking people. “And you’re my favorite person.”

He looked up at you again, expecting to have just made things worse. He was surprised to see a smile on your face. Not one that you didn’t seem to mean, like earlier. It looked like you really were happy.

“You’re my favorite person, too. And… thanks for trying.”

“… Did this one work?”

“Excuse me?”

“Did this attempt to make you feel welcome work?”

“I… guess so?”

“OPERATION HELP-IN-THE-LAB: SUCCESSFUL!” Donnie pumped a fist as he cheered. He checked ‘double-success’ in his mind when you laughed.

“Donnie, I literally handed you a few tools.”

“And it led to the success of my project!”

“Making me welcome was a project?”

“(Y/N), everything is a project.”

“Of course it is.”

#tmnt x reader #reader insert #rottmnt x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #donnie x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #male reader #m!reader #donnie x male reader

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theywhoshantbenamed · 1 month

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I feel like Cali would be the type of guy to get insane baby fever at random times and Mass and NY just gotta deal with it

Forewarning I gave myself second-hand embarrassment cause I put too much though in this and now I have a fic WIP for this idea. And then I achieved self-awareness and remembered this is literally all one guy and they are STATES and I’m gonna try not to think too hard about it

Also I wasn’t sure if this implies he can get pregnant or not but I was already leaning into that before I realized adoption might’ve been possible(doesn’t matter either way) so the fic idea also implies that he can have kids ANYWAYS MOVING ON

Yeah California loves kids he wants to have one he wants to raise one so bad and he’ll be walking down the street and see a kid with their parent and it just makes him long for a family like that

Mass would probably cave like “my spitfire is so demanding” but oh yeah he’s planning way ahead he’s looking at baby clothes he’s checking out schools he’s preparing for the day it happens because lord knows if he’s having a kid he’s giving them the best. Btw if you’re wondering why they’re the same height Mass is being lifted in that doodle

New York would be more firm in being like “someday, but let’s actually talk it through before we do all that” but he’s very patient with California and usually manages to get him levelheaded.

California crying like “I WANNA BE A MOTHER PLS PLS PLS”

Thank you for the ask I’m sorry I went crazy with this one 😵‍💫

#why did I use mother you ask because I felt like it #he’d be so concerned about having a kid he wouldn’t think anything of it #asks for ash!!#ash answers!!#wttt #welcome to the table #ben brainard #wttt california #wttt new york #wttt massachusetts #wttt starkins #starkins #wttt caliyork #caliyork #bitter coffee sandwich

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yannaryartside · 8 months

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Carmy and Luca teach the same way

and who may be the reason

Soooo I have this crazy theory, about what made Luca and Carmy teach the way they do in the present.

Luca and Carmy have a lot of things in common, like their passion and drive (and those tattoos omfg) but I want to bring some attention to how they treat the people who work for them, particularly when these people are making mistakes.

There is this scene in s1x02 in the new york flashback, you see a cook struggling with a sauce and asking Carmy for revision, and he just says something like "Not ready chef, again" he doesn't call her stupid or screams at her, he just gives the instruction even when they are in the heat of service, giving her the opportunity to correct her mistake, while the executive chef (a piece of shit) sends her home immediately, and then proceeds to insult Carmen. From what I have heard, the behavior of the executive chef is pretty common in the industry at this level, and Carmy comes from an abusive household, so who tf did he learn patience from?

Luca also has a "Not right chef, again," with Marcus, while practicing decorating a dessert. He gives him the opportunity to try again, he doesn't insult him or screams either.

You may think this can be their respective personalities. We know Carmy is gentle and generous at heart, he really wants to see people around him be well. But it seems tooo intentional to make both of them say pretty much the same line to somebody they are mentoring.

Both Luca and Carmy give compliments when they like something, and give direct instructions and explanations, even to people who are total newbies, like Marcus (Luca) and Tina (Carmy). Even when the norm in this industry is to make people feel bad so (hopefully) they are too afraid to make mistakes again, preserving a cult to toxicity.

SO HOW THE FUCK CARMY AND LUCA LEARNED TO BE BETTER?

I think it may be HER.

Again, it seems too intentional. The only thing in common between Carmy and Luca is working for her, and both preserve the motto: "every second counts", in their respective businesses. Like, It is a nice motto, but it may have some other feelings attached to it.

Why the fuck did they cast Olivia Coleman, one of the most wholesome and funny actresses now, that tends to be cast in "mother" roles, for this? They also gave her a sweet name: Chef Terry.

Just imagine the young and hungry Carmy and Luca working for this sweet pie. The only time we see her in "Forks" she is sharing a personal story with a person she has never seen, Richie, and is dedicating time and diligence to a task that is way below her pay grade. Carmy and Luca were both "comis" in her restaurant, also known as line cooks, and their roles were like a soldier to a general, they were not making orders, just regular-ass cooks in this great place. They probably had the opportunity to see Chef Terry give orders and pep talks. Probably both shocked at her personality and approach to her business.

All of her employees have this "service" mentality, instead of an "I am gonna look good and smoke you" mentality, that Carmy mentioned in his monologue. All of them have this motivation to make others happy, and they support one another, they support new ideas and crack jokes in their spare time. Like, all their scenes with Richie (that, sorry, had no talent or reputation for them, they just wanted to respect another fucking human being that wanted to improve) speak volumes.

Carmy and Luca could have learned from Chef Terry, that you can build people up, instead of tearing them apart. I think that would make sense.

I NEED THIS FASHBACK. A CONVERSATION THEY HAD WITH HER, OR HER JUST TALKING TO THE STAFF.

Man, and if it comes in a time when Carmy needs to remember how to be a good leader, from the most "mother" chef he has ever work under? Like man....

btw I really recommend this page if you are confused on the hierarchy of the kitchen:

Anyway, this may be a little of a stretch, but I just think it may be really wholesome, thank you for reading!

#carmy the bear #carmy berzatto #the bear fx #the bear #luca the bear #jeremy allen white #will poulter #olivia coleman #richie the bear #the bear meta #the bear spoilers

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drunkenbagel · 1 year

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Enchanted to meet you- Part 1 (repost)

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Spanish f!reader Contents: slow burn, strangers to friends to lovers, reader is in her mid-late 20s, sometimes a little strong language, not that many yet. Word count: 1,8k A/N: reposting because apparently I messed with something on my acc and it got deleted :') Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

In days like this, moving to New York seemed like the wrong idea. You were late to one of your deadlines, your boss just yelled at you, you were missing your family an awful lot, and everything seemed like it was against you. That's why you were on your way to the small cafeteria you went regularly. The café/bar almost felt like one of those you had back home, and it made you feel at ease when you felt like everything was falling out of your reach. Walking in, you saw a few people seated on the chairs, and you smiled as you made your way into the counter to the lovely old Spanish man that had become your friend.

“Hola Ernesto. ¿Cómo estás hoy?” you asked him. (Hello Ernesto. How are you today?)

“¡y/n, querida! Bien, ahora que te he visto” he smiled sweetly. “¿Estas bien? Se te ve cansada, cielo” (y/n, dear! Good, now that I've seen you. / Are you alright? You look tired, darling.)

You sighed.

“I'm good. Tired. That's why I came here. You know your café con leche always cheers me up. The best in all the city” you said, taking your jacket off and leaving it one of the tables beside the counter.

„Ah, eres la única que lo aprecia. The others just like the café solo or black coffee, anyways” he chuckled, and started preparing one right away. (Ah, you're the only one that appreciates it.)

The two of you made small talk until another customer came in, and you sat at your usual table. You took out your laptop and started working on that damned deadline you had. After a while, you had finished the work you were behind, and after stretching yourself on the chair, you took the last sip of your coffee.

“Anita! Hola, querida” you heard Ernesto say. You turned around, curious, and you met with a woman that often visited the shop. (Anita! Hello, dear. btw, -ita/-ito is used as a diminutive, in names often lovingly.)

“¡Hola Ernesto! Lo de siempre, para llevar, por favor. And a croissant” she said, smiling. Then when she turned around to reach her purse, she saw you. “Hey, y/n! Long time no see” (Hello Ernesto! The usual, to take away, please)

After paying, she sat next to you on the table while she waited for her order. You knew Ana from a while back, since you first met in Ernesto's shop. It was quite a spot for Hispanic people, honestly, since a lot of them longed for a piece of familiarity in this big city. You two made small talk about your lives, and then Ernesto called her name.

“Well, it's always nice seeing you, y/n, we really have to go out like old times. I miss getting drunk with you!” she laughed.

“I could really use a little fun, honestly. So I might take up on your offer, Ana” you smiled.

“Well, I might be going out this weekend, if I don't end up dead because of workload. I'll text you!” she said while taking her order and heading out. “Bye, cielo. Hasta luego, Ernesto!” (See you later, Ernesto!)

The old man waved her goodbye, and you stood up to take another coffee. Then you sat back and scrolled a little through TikTok. The page was flooding with new Pedro Pascal edits, and you welcomed each and every one of them. How can a man be so fine without even trying?

You heard another person entering the shop, but kept your eyes on yet another video of your 'for you' page.

“Ah, Pedrito! Cuanto tiempo sin verte, mijo” you heard Ernesto say cheerfully. (Ah, Pedrito! It has been a while without seeing you, son.)

You snorted, a bit too loud, and without looking into their direction, you quietly apologized.

“Igualmente, ya sabes que me gusta pasarme a verte cuando estoy en la ciudad” you heard the man say. Funny, because you came a lot, and his voice sounded familiar, but not from hearing it around here. (Same, you know I like to come around and see you when I'm in the city.)

“¿Te pongo lo de siempre?” Ernesto asked. (Do I get you the usual?)

“Sí, por favor. Si tienes, ese café colombiano tan rico” the other man answered, and you almost felt him smile. Oh, that coffee was good. He had a good taste. (Yes, please. If you have some, that tasty Colombian coffee.)

You didn't hear their small talk, but your attention chimed in again when Ernesto talked.

“Aquí tienes, Pedrito. Si quieres algo más ya sabes donde encontrarme.” (Here you go, Pedrito. If you want anything else, you know where to find me.)

“Grac-”

You unconciously snorted again when hearing the nickname, and you felt their eyes on you again.

“Do I know you?”

“No, sorry, I just know someone called like that. I'm really sorry. Promise I'm not laughing at you” you said, again not tearing your eyes from the screen. Funny enough, another Pedro Pascal edit popped up in your phone. You smiled to yourself. After a bit, you saw someone approaching you sideways.

“Can I sit here?”

You stopped the video and looked up to answer.

“Yeah su-”

Your eyes met another coffee coloured ones, and your mouth stopped mid sentence. You blinked. Wait... What? This can't be happening. You frowned and looked down at the paused video on your screen. Then again at his face. The same face.

“Uh...”

“Can I still sit? If you don't mind. I'm a little tired”

“Ye-yeah. Sure” you made a little space on the table by scooting your things to you, still a little dumbfounded.

You watched him as he sat down, took his jacket and scarf off, and put his hands around the cup to warm them. You were at loss of words. Was this a joke? Were you hallucinating from a coffee overdose? Where you the only one seeing Pedro motherfucking Pascal sat in front of you? Your eyes scanned the shop, no one turned around to watch your table or made any move to come to you. You moved your eyes back to him, and he was already looking at you.

“You alright?“

“Yeah”

“I'm guessing you finally recognized me” he said, a small side smirk creeping on his lips.

“Yeah”

“And you're fine?”

“Yeah”

“Do you know more words than that?”

“Yeah” you answered without thinking. He laughed at that. “Wait- I mean-”

“‘S alright. I can leave if I'm making you uncomfortable or something.”

“I should be the one telling you that” you huffed, now smiling a bit.

“Ah, so the lady knows how to speak properly” he said mockingly.

“Oye! You're making it a little hard for me. Just let me process it. I'm having kind of a weird moment now.”

He chuckled, and took a sip of his coffee. You two sat there for a couple minutes, just sipping your coffees and occasionally glancing at each other.

“Are you freaking out?”

“Surprisingly? Not much. I thought it would be different. That you would be different.”

He gasped dramatically, taking a hand to his chest. “Ouch. That offends me. Am I not enough for you?”

“What? I didn't say that! Just- If I ever met you, I thought I would feel different. More excited, I guess? I don't know. Maybe it's just the stress knocking me out.”

“Oof. Know that one. I have just returned from filming, and I finally have some free time in my hands. I'm guessing you know what I do for a living, so... What do you do?”

“I work in an editorial. I'm kind of a translator. And everyone's recadera, honestly” you scoffed. (Gofer? aka basically the person that runs around doing what everyone wants or needs, I think lol)

You both sat there for hours, just talking to each other and enjoying your company. That was until Ernesto came up to you.

“Hey, I don't want to interrupt, parejita, but I already closed for the day. If you don't mind closing up the doors, y/n, you can stay here if you'd like” he said.

You both then looked around and realized that he had, in fact, closed everything and you two were the only ones left.

“You should have said something! No te preocupes, yo cierro. Go rest, I'll see you next day” you said almost lovingly scolding him. When he left, you sighed. “I swear this man reminds me of my grandpa. He goes every day to la huerta. And he's in his 90s!” (Don't worry, I'll close up)

“Damn, that abuelo of yours sounds like he's made of steel” he said chuckling.

“If only you knew” you said, laughing back.

The two of you started picking up your things and putting your jackets and scarfs. Ugh, sometimes you hated New York's cold. When you got out of the shop, you took out your keys and closed the cristal door, and then the blinds. When you turned to Pedro, he was looking at you funny.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just thinking of how a young girl has an old man's keys to his establishment” he said, and you rolled your eyes at the comment.

“I've know Ernesto for years, and sometimes I've helped him with the shop. He's like my grandpa, you idiot! I like older men, but it's not that bad” you laughed, but froze while putting your keys into your bag. You did not just say that to him. Your eyes widened and you felt the heat in your cheeks. “I didn't-”

He was looking at you with a raised brow, smiling. “So you think I'm old, huh?”

“So you think I like you?” you answered him without thinking.

He raised both of his brows, and then laughed. “Fair enough.”

You both stood there, looking at each other, not knowing what to say. You wanted to tell him that you wanted to see him again, but without seeming like a stalker. You genuinely had a good time with him.

“So... I guess this is goodbye. It was nice meeting you, Pedro” you said with a small smile. “I'd say see you around, but New York is big, and I don't think you'd had that good of a time.”

“I actually like to come to Ernesto's a bit often when I'm here, so maybe I will. I mean, if that's okay with you. I wouldn't want to disturb or anything” he said, and you almost forgot he was international celebrity. He stood there, looking like a big cuddly thing with his scarf and beanie, with his hand on his pockets and his adorable little smile.

“Why would you? He seems to like you, and any sale is good for the business anyway” you told him.

“Then I'll come back. Maybe see you around. I had fun today, thanks for the chatting and all.”

Oh god, why was he so adorable? You wanted to squish his face into your hands.

“Yeah... That would be great. See you, Pedro.”

“See ya’, kid.”

With a small wave, he turned around, and you watched him leave. You then started walking your way into your apartment, still not knowing how to process what just happened. You took out your phone and opened your sister's chat.

“Nora, you won't believe what the fuck just happened.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal edit #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal imagine

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iluvlatinos · 1 year

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LUCKY GIRL?

+ 18 content!

a/n: did I deleted my previous posts? yep and I will probably delete this one later. anyways, I was on my way to uni yesterday when I had this idea. enjoy. btw I'm sorry for the bad grammar my english isn't good as I wish, lowkey dyslexic.

pairing: pedro pascal x platonic f!reader. warnings !!! smut. age gap. public masturbation. nicotine addiction?

47.

He's 47 but he's so hot.

I need a cigarette.

"I'm gonna smoke a cig".

"Smoke what?" Lux looked at me with a smirk.

"A cigarette but I have weed if you wanted" I took a plastic bag out of my purse.

"Maybe later" she said quickly trying to rap a nicki song.

I grab my things and go outside, the cold breeze hit my body giving me chills.

Embarrassed.

A young chick obsessed over a charming 47 year old man, my best friend brother and ignoring a conventionally attractive age appropriate man. I wish it was just the alcohol/weed horniness but it wasn't.

The taste of tabaco in my tongue slowly bringing me back to sobriety. I just finished one cig ready to smoke another one when a familiar voice start speaking in my direction.

"Here you are!" Pedro says taking his jacket and putting around my arms instantly.

"Thank you" I look at his eyes. Cognac. "I'm just finishing this one" I whisper with a cigarette between my lips about to light when he stole from my mouth.

"You said you gonna stop".

I said this every single day to myself.

"Well, maybe tomorrow" I said avoiding his gaze and pick up smoke another quickly.

He proximate to my body, his face inches from mine. Pedro hold the cigarette against my to light his. The hot smoke hitting my face and he rolling next to me leaning against the wall.

"Didn't know you smoke".

"When I was your age I used to smoke a lot. Sometimes I do, when I'm anxious".

'At your age' I laugh to myself knowing damn well this was 20 plus years ago. When I was a baby he was fuckin half of New York City.

"Why is it so funny? You gonna make a joke about my age?" laughing once again I don't answer.

"No!" relishing the smoke out of my chest. "Why do you think I was going to do that?"

"I don't know. You always quiet around me. I'm pretty sure everytime I open my mouth you think 'Oh no, this viejo'".

"I never thought about you in that way" sir my thoughts are very obscene "I'm not close to you as I'm with Lux. That's it" I say turning to him finding his body leaning against mine.

But not enough. I need more. I need him inside of me.

"I would love to get to know you better".

And I would love to ride your face.

"Me too" honesty. "I just like to keep a distance from men".

Oh, you sound like a lesbian, great. "Protection, you know" I complete.

"It's a shame woman have to act this way to be barely respected".

Silence hangs over us. Quietly smoking. Both lost in your own thoughts.

"Arca is gonna start her set. We should go" I say as soon as I finish, taking his jacket out of my body and handed to him.

"Actually, I'm leaving" Pedro says looking the jacket at his hands.

"Past bedtime?" I joked, he laughs out loud.

God I wish I could kiss him. Grab his throat running my fingers over his salt and pepper beard.

"My back hurts after twerking so much".

"You twerking?" I said mischievous while he laughs.

"Sounds that bad?"

"No, sounds ... interesting at very least" he stop laughing and look at me, intensely puppy eyes, trying to figure out if I'm saying the truth or not.

"Really?" I agree.

Pedro smiles, with his eyes and lips. Oh, those lips. Fuck me to death.

"It was nice to talk to you viejo". I say already going back inside while Pedro watches me with a curious gaze until I disappear inside of the club.

REALLY? Right now? I can't do this but I need. Restroom! God I'm so horny. I can't believe I'm gonna do this.

As soon as I enter, locking the door checkin if someone else is there. Lucky girl. No one around. I wash my hands and desperate rush to do what I want.

A take my soaking wet lace panties. Feeling my dripping cunt sensible as I touch, circling my clit and biting my lips thinking about that man. How he would fuck me.

Moans scape from my mouth as my walls clutch around my fingers. I'm gonna cum. Biting my dress and whispering his name to myself. My fluids dripping my fingers I take to my mouth tasting myself.

Catching my breath for a few seconds and cleaning myself feeling relived and frustrated all at once.

Retouch my hair and make quickly and back to the party.

But my thoughts are about what I'm gonna do soon as I get home.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal smut

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goonflower · 4 months

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my jewish grandma said something interesting to me about why she believes the isreali government/military is going after palestine so hard. she told me post ww2 stemming from the inter-generation trauma of 6 million jewish deaths, there was this idea at least in the jewish community she was in (this was in brooklyn new york a few decades ago at that, she can't speak for all jewish communities ofc) there was this idea that you're either the oppressor or the oppressed. so in order to not be the oppressed, you HAVE to become the oppressor. that the only way to be free of your oppression to become the oppressor.

i don't say this as an excuse obviously but to educate about the possible reasons behind the isreali government's mindset and as warning sign for other future oppressive regimes/propaganda. if someone is saying one group must be exterminated for another to exist, do not trust them. (this goes for hamas too btw, you can understand palestinian civilians are innocent and the state of palestine deserves to exist whilst understanding hamas explicitly calling for the extermination of jews in their manifesto is evil and a reflection on their organization. just like you can/should understand that the oppressive regime of isreal's government does not take away from the innocence of isreali civilians.) black & white thinking is what propaganda feeds off, try to unlearn it.

#free palestine #jumblr #psa #nuance is necessary

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thedevilssinner · 9 months

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The Spider Sleeps Tonight

I got an idea that got out of my hands. This was actually supposed to be an ask for @oharahive (check her page btw, she has amazing Miguel O’Hara fics. I can honestly recommend all of them💖) but I got carried away and it ended up like this so… enjoy.

I’m not a writer in any way. I honestly don’t know what possessed me but I just had to write this. Also, english isn’t my first language so if something is wrong, let me know. The same applies to spanish.

Before you start… let me tell you about the diapause phase to understand what I’m writing about. Diapause is a phase in a spider's life cycle where their development is temporarily paused due to harsh environmental conditions, like winter. During diapause, their metabolism slows down, and their body goes into a kind of "standby" mode. They don't eat much or move around much. Instead, they conserve energy and wait for more favorable conditions to resume their normal activities. It's like they're taking a winter nap to survive the cold.

What if the Spider-reader gained not only spider-like abilities but also this? Not exactly the same as the spiders but some variation of it.

The result is under the cut.

Pairing is Miguel O'Hara x spider!reader. Should be gender neutral if I didn't miss something. No smut, only fluff.

Imagine that your universe has harsher winters. Imagine that the outside temperatures are dropping lower and lower, the nights are getting longer, and you feel like you're not getting enough sleep. Not only are you trying to protect New York in your own universe, but you're also helping Miguel track down anomalies. You were constantly jumping across the multiverse, which confused your body even more, and you tried to brush the feeling off, thinking it was just because you had become so active. But you could sleep as much as you wanted and still feel dead tired. You became sluggish, your limbs felt heavier, and your movements became more thoughtful and deliberate as if your body was adjusting to a new rhythm you didn’t know. Your heart also beat slower and you felt very confused, but your duties as a hero of New York and a member of the Spider-Society kept you busy enough to stop thinking about it.

Other Spider-persons noticed your change, your easy going personality was still there, but your smile got smaller, your voice quieter and you mostly kept to yourself instead of talking to the people around you. But when they asked you, you brushed it off again, and blamed it on the winter blues, not wanting them to worry about you.

When you had time, you would often find a dark and quiet spot in the Spider-HQ, build a makeshift hammock out of your webs and take a nap there, or just lie down while you ate some food, because you were finally hungry. The building with all the spiders felt safer than any other place for some reason. It made you feel better. But as winter progressed in your world, even the Spider-HQ wasn’t enough until you found a safer place within - Miguel’s office. You went in to give him your report, but he wasn’t there, so you put it on the table and were going to leave, but something held you back. You could smell him all over the office, and in your mind you saw his image on the platform, looking at the footage and materials on the screens as usual, his fingers dancing across the keyboards as he quietly argued with Lyla. The image made you smile, because you had experienced this exact scenario countless times before, and it comforted you.

You always felt safe around Miguel and it has nothing to do with your teeny-tiny crush on him. You knew that despite his grumpiness, he was a good person who cared for each Spider-person in his own way. Maybe that’s why you did what you did. Because before you could think about it, you have another one of your web hammocks in between two pillars of Miguel’s office. You quickly crawl into it and fall asleep with a contented sigh.

*******

Miguel, who is always so observant, especially when it comes to you, also notices your behavior. To be honest, he had a soft spot for you. Actually… it was more than that. In almost a year you were in the Spider-Society, you were anything but reliable, your missions usually went smoothly, your reports were always straightforward and to the point, and although you were a gentle person that rarely got angry, you weren’t afraid to stand up to him when he was overly harsh with others – a trait he actually appreciated. At least from you. There was just something about you. Something more that others didn't have. You were also the only person who could successfully calm him down. You even made him smile.

Both of these things surprised him. He did not think he was capable of really smiling or having romantic feelings for anyone after everything he had been through, but your arrival changed everything. You were just so gentle and kind-hearted and always smiling… smiling on him, and that made him feel things he hadn’t expected to feel. Want things he wasn’t supposed to want. It made him terrified, but also desperate to be in your presence every waking moment.

But now you were acting differently and it made him worried. He heard you talking to other spiders and blaming your change on winter depression, but he had a feeling there was more to it than you were letting on. He wanted to talk to you soon to find out what was going on with you, because when he checked on your universe, there was nothing to make you like this.

What he didn’t expect was that one day he would find you asleep in his office. You were in a dark part of the office, curled up on yourself on a hammock made of your own webs, sleeping peacefully. Your breathing was shallow, shallower than it should be, and your heart was also beating slower than is normal for a sleeping person.

“What in the world is happening to you?” he wondered as he watched you sleep, thoughts running wildly through his head. “Lyla, find out if there is another Spider-person who has had or is having symptoms similar to theirs.” Miguel redirected his attention to his AI assistant. Deciding this would be probably the quickest way to figure things out. In fact, he didn't understand why he hadn't thought of it before.

“How about you add the magic word first?” asked the little holographic woman, and Miguel huffed in annoyance.

“Lyla! Find that information…" he ordered, “...please.” he decided to add.

“See, it wasn’t that hard.” replied Lyla, disappearing and working on what Miguel wanted her to do. It only took a few minutes and she reappeared. “So… there are a few Spider-persons who have the same symptoms. Most of them aren’t that known here so no one ever explored it that much but it’s nothing dangerous. It's related to the spider part of her. She’s going through something called diapause. It’s kind of like hibernation, but for insects and she’s still going to be able to function, more or less.” she explained.

Her words reassured Miguel, who was glad that it wasn't something dangerous, as he went through the information she found. He read folders about Spider-persons that had symptoms similar to yours. Everything he read reassured him more and more that you'd be fine, but it also made him not want to take you on any more missions. At least not the bigger ones. He knew you wouldn't like being cut off, and so far you’ve done well on your missions, but he didn’t want to risk it. He cared too much about you to let you continue.

His eyes wandered back to the spot where you were sleeping. You looked so small, snuggled up to yourself, and your breathing was so quiet. His fingers twitched with desire to touch you, and he unconsciously took a few steps toward you before holding back. He didn't want to wake you up. His eyes roamed over your body, listening to the soft sight that escaped your mouth as you wiggled in the hammock, making it sway a little. Your hair fell in your face and you scrunched your nose when it tickled you. Now he really couldn’t hold back. He stepped closer, reached out his hand to your face and brushed the hair out of your face as gently as he could.

*******

You are awakened by a gentle and warm touch on your face. You eagerly grab the hand and snuggle your face against it, enjoying the warmth emanating from it until your sleepy brain finally begins to function properly and you realize that you fell asleep in Miguel’s office and the hand you are snuggling to is probably his. You let go of it and slowly open your eyes, which immediately meet Miguel's maroon ones.

“Hey..." you murmur softly, cheeks slightly red and not knowing what to say. Should you apologize for using his office as your bedroom? Or just… say nothing about it?

“Hey..." Miguel replied, watching you. He didn’t look angry, which was a good sign. “I think it’s time we had a talk,” he continued, and you swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous. Those words almost never meant anything good, but you nodded in agreement and slowly sat up in the hammock, your gaze now fixed on the floor.

“Do you know what’s happening to you?” Miguel asked, getting straight to the point. You wanted to answer that nothing was happening to you, but you held back. You didn’t want to lie, not to him.

“I… no. I don’t.” you admit, still not looking at him. “I just feel… tired and my limbs feel heavy and I feel like my whole body is slowing down, but I…. I swear I’m still able to do my missions. I’m still useful. It’s not that bad, I swear.” you finally look back up at him, your eyes filled with fear. You were afraid that Miguel would tell you that you were done with Spider-Society.

“Calm down, arañita,” Miguel said gently, which surprised you a little. It wasn’t often that he spoke to you like that and gave you a pet name, but it was nice. “Lyla has already found other Spider-Men with similar symptoms. You're in diapause, which is common for spiders. Your metabolism is slowing down because of the winter in your world, but it'll be fine. When spring starts, you should feel normal again,” he assured you, and your body relaxed as you processed his words.

“So, I’m okay and you... you're not kicking me out?” you wanted to make sure you understand correctly.

“Yes and no. I’m not kicking you out, but there will be some changes..."

*******

After the conversation you had with Miguel, few things really changed for you. Miguel no longer let you go on big missions, only smaller ones and only occasionally, even though you protested that you were capable of handling it. The only consolation was that he gave you another task instead, which was to organize his office. Putting all the equipment in its place, cleaning up his tools, and so on. You knew he was doing this to distract you from not being able to go on missions, but you were still grateful for it, and you still had to protect your own version of New York. Patrolling at night and fighting with villains that decided to show even in the freezing temperatures. But whenever you could, you walk through the multidimensional portal into the Spider-Society’s lobby and then right into Miguel's office.

You felt safest when you were with him. Your tired body relaxes and your mind becomes still. Enjoying when you worked silently alongside him. Miguel would fix or update the multiversal gizmo, look at something on the screens, or just do whatever he needed while you organized different parts of the office or handed him the tools he needed. But sometimes you also talked… about everything and nothing. About your lives, about the weather in your universe, the diapause you were going through, the embarrassing moments you both experienced when you started out as Spider-Man and woman and it was just so nice. It introduced you to new sides of Miguel, but unfortunately also deepened your feelings for him.

You already knew that the admiration you had initially felt for him had turned into a bit of a crush, but now that you had spent much more time with him, your feelings had deepened. Every smile you saw before he hid it, every tender word he graced you with, made you fall even more in love with him. Besides, there were times when you fell asleep in the hammock you still had in his office, but you never slept for long because you were always awakened by Miguel's hand in your hair. You didn't understand how he never noticed that you were awake, but his fingers lightly stroking your head was something incredibly pleasant, and you had no intention of ever stopping him, your eyes still closed and enjoying his care until you fell asleep again. It made you hopeful that there could be something more than friendship between the two of you, but Miguel never said anything and you were too afraid of ruining the friendship you had to say anything.

*******

After a month and a half of you spending your time with Miguel, things changed for both of you. He was checking surveillance footage, when you walked into his office. You were a little bit late, usually appearing soon after you're done with the patrol in your universe but he tried to not stress about it.

But when he turned his head to you, he could see that he should have been stressed.

“Mierda..." he gasped “What happened to you? How bad is it?” he asked, quickly jumping to your side and letting his eyes wander over your body to see where you were hurt. You had a busted lip, and your suit was torn in some places, showing your bleeding skin underneath. It looked like someone had tried to shred your suit apart with claws while you were still wearing it.

“I’m… fine. I just met my own version of Prowler, who was actually a younger Hobie. That was really weird, if you ask me,” you replayed tiredly, dropping into your hammock and groaning in pain.

Miguel paused for a moment, but quickly recovered. Your health was much more important to him than Hobie Prowler right now. He shot out one of his webs, which momentarily illuminates your surroundings red, and pulled a nearby first aid kit towards him, rummaging through it.

“I’m sure it was, and we can talk about it later, but for now…. take off your suit so I can treat you.” he finally spoke again and immediately after that, he heard you gasp.

“Um… Miguel, you do realize that I’m only wearing my underwear underneath, right?” you ask him and Miguel stills, lifting his head up and looking at you. He could see your wide eyes and red cheeks. To be honest, he did not realize that, even though he should because no one was wearing much under the suit, your words repeating in his head. The image of you only in underwear flooding his mind. He closed his eyes for a moment and cleared his throat.

“No, I uh… I didn’t realize that. Wait a second,” he said and quickly disappeared into the depths of his office. He knew he had some clothes here, for whatever reason, and quickly found them. “Here, put these on,” he said, handing you a shirt and a pair of shorts. Your hands touched his as you took the clothes from him, and you gave him a grateful smile.

“Thank you,” you murmur, and your soft voice and the touch of your hands make him clear his throat again.

“No problem. I will… leave you alone for a moment. Call for me when you’re done.” replied Miguel, quickly walking away and trying to calm himself down. You’re injured and the only thing he can think about now is your almost naked body? He really should do something about his growing obsession with you.

Seriously, get a grip, Miguel!

He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying not to hear the sound of you changing.

“Miguel? I’m done.” he hears your voice after a minute, quickly returning back to you. Immediately noticing how good you’re looking in his clothes.

This is torture.

"Good… let's get you patched up." he says outloud, kneeling before you and taking the first aid kit again. Pulling out stuff he needs. “Show me your left hand.” he orders while he’s spraying the cotton ball with antiseptic.

*******

When Miguel gave you his clothes and left, your eyes followed him for a few seconds, but then you put the clothes on the hammock, quickly got up, and took off your suit. When you were done, you first took his shorts and pulled them over your legs. Thank goodness the waistband could be tightened with a drawstring, otherwise it would have fallen off for sure. Then you took the shirt and before you put it on, you slowly brought it up to your face and sniffed it. It was a clean shirt, but still…. it smelled like Miguel. You grip the shirt tighter for a moment, take a deep breath, and then finally pull it over your head.

When you were sure that every important part of your body was covered, you called for Miguel and watched him as he came back to you. There was something in his eyes when he saw you in his clothes, but you couldn't put your finger on it. Watching him quietly as he knelt in front of you and rummaged in the first aid kit again until he asked you to show him your hand.

You obediently offered him your left hand, with three angry scratches on your upper arm.

Miguel took you by the wrist, his large, warm hand squeezing gently, pulling you a little closer while he moved his other hand closer to the scratches, running the cotton ball lightly over them. You hissed softly at the burn of the disinfectant, but otherwise held still, feeling his thumb gently stroking your wrist.

When he was finished with the left hand, he immediately took you by the right one and carefully disinfected the wounds there. He patched up deeper wounds with a band-aid and then went to your legs, your breath catching in your throat as his hand grasped the underside of one of your thighs. He pulls your leg closer, foot between his legs, almost pressing in a place you shouldn’t be thinking about. Your heartbeat quickened despite your slowed down body, and you were sure your cheeks were red. The silence between the two of you was heavy, interrupted only by Miguel's apology when he pressed a little too hard on a wound.

You always assured him that it was okay, your voice wavering a little. Obediently lifting your… well, his shirt up,when he wanted you to. Showing the wound on your stomach and feeling his fingers stroking your skin as he was cleaning it. This wasn't supposed to be sexual under any circumstances, so why was it with Miguel?

“There you go, done.” your thoughts were interrupted by Miguel’s voice. You let the shirt fall back down, covering your stomach again. You are glad it’s finally done and look back up into Miguel’s face, ready to thank him but the darkened gaze of his eyes makes you choke on your words. You gulp and instead of just saying thank you, something urges you to say something different.

“I should kiss you,” you whisper, “you know, as a thank you for taking such good care of me.”

You could see Miguel’s Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed, his eyes starting to glow more red. “There… there’s no need.” he replies, his voice sounding deeper than before, but even as he refuses, his hands grab your hips and pull you closer to the edge of the hammock.

“But I want to..." you breathe out, and your hands find their way into his hair. Before he can say anything, you lean closer to him and press your lips to his. You feel his body tense, briefly convinced that you've made a mistake and should pull away, but then he returns your kiss. It’s slow and gentle, both of you feeling each other up. His lips are surprisingly soft and full, making you hum happily and lean into him even more. It's exactly what you've wanted to do for a long time, your fingers gently stroking through his hair.

It took you some time to finally break away from his lips. Both of you are breathing erratically, your cheeks are hot and his hair is disheveled. Honestly, you could kiss Miguel forever and it still wouldn't be enough.

“Cariño..." Miguel sighs and presses his forehead against yours. “What are you doing to me?” He asks, and you can hear the heat in his voice, making you shiver as his hands grip your hips tightly.

“I can ask the same,” you reply, still stroking his hair. “What… What does this kiss… mean to you?” you ask afterwards, still unsure if you both have the same feelings.

“Everything. It means everything to me,” he answers and you give him a soft smile. He looks so vulnerable at this moment. His usual scowling face is gone and all you can see from the color of his eyes is a thin red circle around his dilated pupils and…. are his cheeks pink?

Is the grumpy leader of Spider-Society blushing? Is he blushing because we kissed?

You ask yourself and immediately decide that yes… he is blushing and definitely because of the kiss. It made you unbelievably happy to see him like this.

“I love you,” you say softly and without thinking about it, but still… your words are true.

“I… feel the same.” Says Miguel after a moment of silence. You could hear that he wanted to say something else, but you also knew how hard it was for him to talk about his feelings sometimes, and that was okay. You both had time. There was no need to rush into this.

“I’m glad you do,” you smile again and give him a light kiss on the lips.

“Will you lie down with me now? Please...", you ask him, making a pleading face. You were tired after your fight with Prowler and Miguel’s arms looked so inviting.

Miguel had the audacity to chuckle. Chuckle! But then he nodded.

“Of course,” he replied, rising from his kneeling position and then climbing into the hammock with you. It wasn’t very big, so you had to lie on top of Miguel to fit in, but that didn’t bother you in the least, your head on his chest and his hands around your waist.

A happy sigh escapes your lips and you close your eyes. You have never felt this cozy before, and after a few seconds you started to fall asleep. One of Miguel’s hands slowly traveled up your back and into your hair, gently stroking it as he had done before, and before you fell completely asleep, you heard Miguel’s soft “I love you too.”

The End

(Note: The first Prowler was indeed a teenager Hobie Brown)

(Note 2: The name of the story is a remake of 'The lion sleeps tonight' song, idk why)

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #spider!reader #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x gender neutral reader #miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader #miguel o'hara x spider!reader #spider man across the spider verse #spider man atsv #fanfiction #spider man fanfic #spiderman fanfiction #miguel o'hara fanfiction

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