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justleaveatnine · 3 days

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pink in the night - matty healy. part four.

you join the 1975 on tour as an actress starring in the narrative portion of at their very best alongside the lead singer, matty healy. he’s got big ideas and wants to redefine what a concert is, blurring the lines between fiction and reality. on stage together each night, it starts to feel less and less like acting. but is it the same for him?

masterlist.

cw: drug use, smoking, blood

wc: 4.6k

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Boston

“This is a good one." George pops a candy into his mouth before continuing.

"Do not go with your dad to the 1975’s new tour I repeat do not go with your dad Matty pulls on a girls hair and kisses her all weird IT WILL BE VERY AWKWARD.” He's laughing so hard he struggles to get the sentence out as he reads it off his phone.

“Hey, I do not kiss weird! Gimme that-“ Matty reaches across the tour bus to try and pull the phone out of George’s hand, who swats him away.

Ross finds another tweet while Matty is distracted. “No, no, this one is even better: Matty I know you made this show to prove you know what you’re doing but it won’t work I see you for the virgin that you are." He laughs, shaking his head. "They keep you so humble.”

“What is this, The Bully Matty Show? Jesus Christ." Matty scoffs to an audience of laughter.

He turns around to you, eyes wide. "You gonna defend our show to these knobs, or what?"

You smile, lips pursed and shaking your head. "Nah, I'm good. This is too entertaining." He scoffs, and turns around.

"They aren't saying anything bad about her, you know. Just you," George snickers, pointing towards him with his thumb.

"Well deserved," Adam quips from the corner.

"Oh fuck off, Hann!" Matty says to a round of laughter.

Ross pipes up again. "Wait, wait, wait, this one's the best: I found the girl's height online, has to be inaccurate because we know Matty is 5'7", she can't be shorter,"

"5'7"?" Matty nearly shouts, incredulous. He crosses his hands and sits back on the couch beside you. "They keep bloody lowering it," he grumbles.

You nudge him with your elbow and he turns to face you. "Should I tweet that I'm actually 5'0 tall in real life? Then they'll say you're, what, 5'4"?" you ask with a cheeky smile on your face.

"Don't you even dare." His grimness makes you laugh, bringing your hand to your face to muffle it.

New York City

You’ve never experienced anything like this before. As you walk through the club with Polly, people come up to you left and right, complimenting your performance and asking for photos. Your mind is a blur as you push through the crowd, moving against the unidentifiable bodies. A voice you can’t locate the body of shouts, “Amazing show!” along with your name. Your on a high, the alcohol, adrenaline, and compliments mixing through your veins and puppetering you through the club as your mind gets hazy. The music is just a blur in the back of your mind as you round a corner too get off the dance floor.

You reach the stage from the side, where one of the Ion Pack guys whose name you feel bad about not remembering gives you a hug. You can’t really hear what he is saying over the pounding bass, but you nod. You're drunk and overwhelmed, you can't bring yourself to do much more. It seems to suffice as he continues past you, patting you on the back with a smile.

You walk towards George and Matty, the former of which is operating the DJ booth as the latter dances and shouts something in the others ear. George laughs as Matty continues to dance, and fiddles with some of the knobs in front of him.

When Matty notices you, he pulls you into a hug that subsequently causes the audience to cheer. The reaction makes your head spin a little, your stomach churn. These people know you now. This is just another part of the show for them, more content.

“How do you handle this?” you ask into his ear.

He pulls back. “Handle what, the club?” he asks, confused.

“All the attention. Just tonight alone has made me go a bit mental.” You rub at your eyes. "I don't really know how to think about all of it, all of this," you gesture to the crowd, many of whom are watching to two of you speak, wishing they could hear the words exchanged.

He thinks for a moment. “It never gets easy, I’ll say. But you get used to it. Besides, it was just a long time coming for you, I’ll tell you that much. Well deserved. And you've got me with you the whole time, darling. I promise.” He has to shout to have it heard over the music, but the sentiment rings softly within you.

How does he always manage to do this, make you unravel with just a few unsuspecting words? He stares at you as you continue to think, overwhelmed by his presence combined with everything in the club. You’re not sure how he’s not sweating under the leather jacket he’s got on. You realize he’s started talking again, the overstimulation warping your senses.

He rubs your arm, a comforting smile on his face. "Don’t stress yourself out, love. I can practically hear you thinking.” You hope to god that he can’t. All your thoughts lead back to him, anyways.

Camden

Matty makes you promise to a signal.

"I won't deviate from the script if you won't agree to this. You won't win, love." He says, sipping his pint.

You know he would never do something that would cross your lines, make you uncomfortable. Whether that is on or off stage. He's staring at you from his position across the table, fingers rattling against the surface. The whole band is at a bar, enjoying the calmer night before the show tomorrow. The afterparties have been fun, sure, letting off the adrenaline in a blur of alcohol and dancing against bodies you can't place the identity of. But sitting with everyone in a bar not too far from your hotel and yelling over the music at each other until your voices go hoarse is your favourite way to spend the downtime.

You sigh, thinking. "Fine. I'll, uh, I'll blink three times rapidly if I want you to stop something. That good?" you acquiesce.

Matty's pleased. The alcohol inflates the level of victory, you can see it in his eyes. You can't let the feeling last too long. The shots you did affect you too, loosening the filter between your mind and your mouth. An idea floats through your tipsy head, and against your better judgement, you begin to speak.

"There's nothing you could do that would rattle me though, so don't be looking to hard for it."

"Is that right?" he takes another sip, smirk appearing.

"I think I'd be able to make you flinch before I do up there." You say, cockily. You're not sure if you'll ever be able to affect him the way he does to you, but your mouth is moving of its own volition. The words are creating themselves. Even though you know this isn't the smartest conversation to have with your employer that you have a crush on, growing stronger with each touch and glance. (You try to remind yourself that its just the performance, but your heart never seems to get the message).

"Is that a challenge, love?" He's entertained, smile growing.

"If you want it to be," you shoot back, quick. A smarter woman wouldn't do this. She wouldn't meddle with her career like this, her one shot at her dream. But right now all you can think about is the man across from you, smiling cheekily, curls bouncing with each movement of his head. You can't be bothered to think too rationally. You're greedy. You just want to keep him like this, staring at you so intently.

"Don't set yourself up for a game you're bound to lose, even with your plays you know I've spent way more time becoming comfortable in front of the crowds." He's self-assured.

"Winner buys drinks for the rest of the tour?" You can't stop yourself. You're not even sure if you'd win this challenge you've built. You just want to see it play out. You've started the game, but all you really care about are his moves.

"You've got yourself a deal," he shakes his head with a smile. You tap your drinks together in agreement. What are you doing.

Washington D.C.

You exhale, letting out the smoke from the cigarette. Your attempts to quit before the tour have been unsuccessful, and the long day made you itch for a moment of reprieve, the nicotine rushing through your brain.

The cold air stings your arms, goosebumps forming as you slightly shiver. You went on a walk along the Potomac, people watching and chain-smoking. Now you're leant against the tour bus, waiting to finish the cigarette that you've sworn to yourself will be your last for the night.

Your peace is disturbed by the tour bus door swinging open, and Matty walking down the steps. He's on his phone, and doesn't notice you until he gets completely out of the bus, looking around. His eyes immediately land on the cigarette in your hand, and his mouth opens in slight shock.

"Why didn’t you tell me you actually smoked?" he asks, incredulously, while pointing towards your hand. "I went through all the effort of getting sets of fake cigarettes for the show!"

You sigh, taking another drag. "I'm sorry. I was trying to quit then, but evidently I have not been too successful." you gesture into the air with it between your fingers.

He walks towards you, and you wordlessly pass the cigarette to him. He takes a puff before handing back it back to you. You can see a ever-so-faint tinge of your dark lipstick on his lips, transferred from the cigarette. You force the thought to not linger, taking another drag.

Matty hums. "Does that mean I can use a real one in the scene? The bit in Robbers?"

You tsk, putting on an air of disappointment. "Wow, promoting and encouraging addiction? Not very PC of you, Matty. Whatever will Twitter say?"

"Fuck off. Give me the cig," he says, smiling. The two of you smoke the small bit it has left in comfortable silence, the chill from the river rippling around you.

Atlanta

The bus is driving down a seemingly endless highway, the surroundings staying identical now matter how far you drive. Your holding a book in your lap, but you're barely reading it. Your eyes keep flicking up to Matty.

He's sat at one of the seating booths, hastily writing in a notebook. It's moleskin, and from your vantage point you can see what appears to be small drawings, almost doodles, alongside lines of indecipherable prose.

You wonder if he's writing a song, ideas for another leg of the show. More fantasies for you to act out. In this one, will he be cruel, acting out a performance of hatred? Maybe he'll be ambivalent, using you as simply an object in the narrative. Your mind spirals through possibilities, and the reality of the situation is long gone to your imagination.

You return to focusing on him. His hair is dangling over his forehead, dark curls framing his face so beautifully. You want to run your fingers through them, ruin the tightly coiled ringlets and tug on them until he gasps. You make a mental note to do it during the show tonight, the one time you're allowed to act on your desires for him.

He’s wearing a blue sweatshirt, and grey sweatpants that look so good it should be illegal. Your mouth runs dry as you continue to stare at his body, tracing him with your eyes. He lets out a small sigh, which causes your eyes to flick up to his face. He's frowning slightly, shaking his head as he erases a line. He runs a hand through his hair, pulling on it as you imagined yourself doing.

Your eyes dart back down to your book before he can catch you watching. You stare at the page for minutes, but your eyes don't read a single word.

Nashville

"Excuse me, uhm, are you the girl in The 1975 show?"

You turn around. You're in a corner shop, grabbing some snacks before the bus leaves. There's a girl who can't be more than sixteen wearing an At Their Very Best shirt, holding several magazines and a pint of ice cream. She looks almost awestruck.

You smile, excited. You're getting recognized. By fans. This is insane. "Yeah, that's me. You're actually the first person to come up to me, this is kind of crazy."

"Crazy for you? Oh my gosh, this is insane for me! I've been a fan of the band for ages, and I couldn't stop watching you up there! I've never seen an actor in a tour before, you are so cool!" She's speaking at the speed of light. You don't even have a moment to speak before she continues.

"I just think the show's so amazing, what you guys are doing is so cool, oh my gosh, I can't believe this is happening, this is so-"

You put your hands on her shoulders. She's so excited, you're worried she'll faint from the lack of air.

"Please breathe, I don't need you to pass out on me," you say through a concerned laugh.

She takes a deep breath, and you match her. You stand in the aisle for a moment, breathing with her. It's a little ridiculous, but you couldn't be happier. "God, this is so embarrassing," she says, face cringing.

"Hey, hey, no need to be embarrassed. This is actually really cool for me, too. Big milestone. Do you, uh, want a picture or anything? Can I give you something?"

You take a picture with her, and give her a big hug before she leaves. She tells you she will be in GA again at a later date, and you promise her you'll look for her in the audience. As she walks away, a big smile grows on your face. You're getting recognized. Not getting hollered at by an old man at the bus stop asking if you're the girl from that one commercial, or accepting the mild reactions from acquaintances you show the few bits of recorded work you've done. But someone telling you they loved something you're in, something that you're so so proud of. You walk back to the tour bus, humming and elated.

Grand Prairie

"You're telling me, the man who constantly is taking about his love for Cronenberg and hired me to act out a creepy love fantasy every night hasn't watched Bones and All yet?" you ask while laughing, aghast. The two of you are sat on the couch of the tour bus, killing time while the crew is setting up. George went to workout in temporary gym that has been constructed in the backstage area, and Adam is lying in his bunk with headphones on.

"I've been a little focused on making and album and writing this show that you're in, thank you very much. And it's not that creepy."

"You pull my hair and stroke my face while you sing about smashing my head open," you say, straight-faced.

He sighs, exasperated. "It's a metaphor," he practically whines.

"And so is Bones and All. We're doing a movie night, pass me the remote." You get the TV set up while Matty makes a bowl of popcorn in the microwave, and brings it back to the couch as the movie begins.

Ross walks out of the main suite during one of the more particularly gruesome scenes. "Jesus, guys, could't put this on a laptop or something?" he says, shielding his eyes. "The hell even is this?"

"Shhhhh!" Matty hisses at him, and you snort.

Houston

You're on stage, and he's singing Inside Your Mind. You're sat frozen on the chair, as you always are. His hand is stroking your face, fingers dancing down your temple to your jawline, tracing the shape of you as if to memorize it.

His hand moves to the side, his thumb leaving whispers of touches on your cheek. It keeps moving, further and further until his thumb reaches your mouth. Slowly, he runs his thumb across your top lip, tracing your cupids bow. You choke internally. You know what he's doing. He's trying to get you to flinch, give him a victory. You've set up this situation where he seeks to touch you of his own volition solely for chance to win a childish bet, but so be it if it means he'll touch you. You'd let him treat you as a game because at least it means he'll treat you somehow.

His thumb moves down to your bottom lip. You need to regain your footing, distract the racing thoughts in your mind. An idea slithers from the back of your mind, the one that screams for him constantly over the sirens of sanity that try to drown it out. At least now you can lean into that for the sake of this bet you constructed. You act before you can think too hard about it.

You move ever so slightly forward, small enough so that the audience won't be able to see, and you take his thumb into your mouth.

It's never been harder to hold your position. You so desperately want to see his face, see the truth in his reaction. You're in far too deep at this point, might as well win the bet now.

You close your lips around his thumb, and suck.

He stops singing, ever so momentarily. Clears his throat. Continues on. You know you've won, and the grin radiating from inside of you is almost too difficult to withhold. You got physical proof that you have at least some effect on him. (Far more important to you than any drinks, but you won't be telling him that)

After the show, he doesn't say a word about it. But when he returns from the bar that night at the club you're gathered at, he places a vodka cranberry in your hands before sitting back in his seat with a small grin.

Austin

"Crazy idea."

"Hmm?"

You're stoned out of your minds, lying down on the bed of George’s hotel room. The man in question is lying on the floor, long passed out.

“You know how…” you trail off. It’s so hard to think. Your mind is hazy, thoughts swirling around in pretty patterns you can’t quite see.

“I do!” Matty sits up, in shock. You kick him, pushing his chest back down with your foot.

“I haven’t even said it yet, idiot,” you scoff, exaggeratedly offended. You take a deep breath to clear the haze in your mind.

“When you’re running your finger down my face. I’ve had dreams where there’s blood on you.” you sing the part you’re referring to lightly. “What if… there actually was blood on me?”

You barely let it sit for a second before bursting into laughter, unable to contain yourself. “Ugh, I always have the weirdest ideas when I’m high,” you groan into your pillow. “How would we even do that?” you slur, face smushed.

“We could put it behind the chair. I put my hand in it… put it on your face…” Matty contemplates it.

“I think you liked Bones and All a little too much, I didn’t actually-”

“No, no, this is good. It’s creepy, and it further shows that that scene isn’t real, just, uh, in my imagination.” He gasps dramatically. “You’re a genius!” he shouts, comically excited.

“Oh, no!” You shout, realization dawning on your intoxicated mind.

“What, what, what?” Matty looks alarmed. You take his hands on yours.

“We are going to ruin so many dresses,” you say, grim. The two of you burst into laughter immediately.

“Oi, quit it!” George groans from the floor. It only causes your laughter to grow.

Mexico City

On the stage two hours prior, Matty stuck his tongue down your throat.

He kissed you so forcefully, eagerly. You felt like you were burning alive as you cupped his face, and kissed him just as passionately in return. Matty kissed you like he wanted to consume you, taking each and every part of you for himself. You’d give at all, open and willing. You licked into his mouth, letting the moment continue far longer than prescribed. You ran a hand through his curls, and you felt a small moan vibrate in your mouth as your nails scratched on his scalp. He met your gaze after and carefully brushed a piece of hair out of your face. Your heart felt as if it was going to tear out of your throat, pounding and bloody. Here I am, can’t you see this is all real?, it would say to him, pounding violently and gruesomely in his arms. Can't you see all that you do?

Matty practically lives on the dance floor of the after parties. He never spends much time at the bar, grabbing drinks before heading either to the DJ booth to pester George or smack dab in the center of the dance floor.

You’re standing at the bar, nursing a drink. Polly left you to go to the bathroom and you’re watching the members of band scattered throughout the club. George is DJing, as per usual, with Ross dancing against some girl near the edge of the dance floor. Adam is sat at a booth not too far from you with Carly, and you give them a smile as you sip into your cup. Matty wanders over, empty-handed and seemingly bone-tired, but the drunken grin on his face is apparent. “Seems I’ve lost my drink.”

You’re not really sure what he means with this. You speak anyways. “You know, the bets over and done. You’re not getting any drinks even if you make me flinch up there.”

He raises his eyebrows and smiles, cheeky and withholding. “I know.” You don’t know what to do with that. The music changes. You don’t recognize it, but Matty clearly does, his drunken face exploding with joy.

“I love this song, come dance!” he shouts over the music, dragging you, laughing, onto the floor to dance with him. He puts his hands on your hips as you dance, and you can’t be bothered to let any modicum of rationality left in you stop you from indulging in it.

Phoenix

You're sat on the tour bus couch, scribbling in your notebook.

I glow pink in the night in my room I've been blossoming alone over you And I hear my heart breaking tonight

I could stare at your back all day And I know I've kissed you before, but I didn't do it right

It’s missing something, but you can’t figure out what. You tap your pencil against the page, creating little stabs of grey.

You feel a brush of something against your head and turn to the side, seeing Matty leaning over you. You practically jump out of your skin.

“Jesus Christ, Matty! What are you, a fucking ghost?”

He laughs a little. “Sorry, sorry. Just you were so focused, I didn’t wanna disturb you. Let me see that, actually.”

Before you can protest, he reaches over your shoulder, rips the notebook out of your hands, and tumbles around the couch to sit beside you.

“Matty-” you try to lean and reach it out of his hands, but he rotates his body as to keep it out of your reach. You pray he doesn’t think too hard about the words, weave the meaning together that in your mind is displayed so, so obviously. He’s quiet, and it’s making you nervous. You bite one of your nails, unsure what to do.

He looks over at you, eyes wide. “This is what you’ve been writing this whole time?”

You scratch the back of your neck. “Well, not like that specific one this entire tour. But yeah, poems and stuff. It’s not meant to be something though, give it back,” you say as you reach across him.

He pulls it out of your reach again. He says your name so focused, so earnestly, you stop in your tracks.

“That poem is amazing.”

You sigh. “Matty, I’m really not in the mood for-“

“I’m not taking the piss, love! This is…” He taps the poem with his finger. “This is really something. You’re really something.” He looks back at you, so earnest it makes your head dizzy.

He fumbles in his pockets pulling out his phone. He looks back at you. “Can I?” he asks. You’re not 100% sure what he’s asking, but really, you’d agree to anything he asked of you. You nod. He takes a picture of the page and hands you back your notebook, standing up.

"C'mon, soundcheck is about to start," he smiles, waving you to follow him.

Las Vegas

There's a container fixed to the back of the chair. Its flat and wide, perfect for placing a hand into. It's filled with fake blood that is about to be spread all over your face. Matty talked to Tobias and Patricia, convinced there was a way to make the blood your intoxicated mind suggested work, and now here you are.

He's approaching the line. You count your breaths. One two, one two. You wore one in-ear out of anticipation for the audience's reaction, and the music pounds into your ears. You wanna hear the screams that you know will come.

You see Matty carefully place his hand in the dish, and he brings it to your cheek. The blood is cold, jarring against your cheek. He keeps his hand still for a moment, letting it sit. He smears it with his thumb across your upper cheek, digging slightly against the bone.

The crowd is screaming. You can feel the blood dripping onto your thigh, staining the stark white of your dress. He drags his thumb towards your lips, staining them red as it traces their outline, pressing against them.

You can't help yourself. You've been so still every show, keeping your gaze locked in the distance. The perfect actress he wanted. But you're not a perfect actress. You're selfish. You're a girl whose falling so hard it makes you exhilarated, chasing the all-consuming feeling of him every moment you can. You're so consumed by him it terrifies you. You want to see him, gaze piercing and blood dripping. Your eyes flick to meet his, breaking the stillness.

You stare into each others eyes. You're covered in the blood. Nothing feels real. The only thing grounding you is his hand on your cheek, cold and bloody but far more a comfort than anything else could possibly be. The crowd goes wild as the blood drips on your dress, staining you with him, seeping into your skin, your bones. Skin and bones, that's all you are. But not here with him. You feel alive, heart racing and endorphins shooting into your mind, loosening it with desire and adrenaline. The blood trails down your neck, cold and sticky. You want it to stain you just as he does to all of your thoughts, your poems, your breaths, your everything. The blood drips lower and lower down your neck, cold against your skin.

The song ends. You get up, and leave the stage as you always do, covered in him so completely. The blood leaves a trail.

—

a/n: pleaaaaaaase let me know what you guys think i love hearing from you <33333 poem is pink in the night by mitski 🫶

#matty healy #pitn #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfic #matty healy writing #matty #healy #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic

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vbecker10 · 1 day

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Talk to Me (Part 3)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 (in progress)

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: Your mind is racing in too many directions and you have no answers. Are your nightmares are returning? Will Loki pull away now that you saw his Jotun form? Will you ever get the courage to tell him you love him?

Meanwhile, Loki battles with similar concerns. What can he do to ensure you feel safe and keep away your nightmares? How will he explain his Jotun form to you without you thinking he's a monster? Will you ever love him the way he loves you?

Warnings: anxiety, feeling of being alone, fear of running a friendship, Loki being insecure about being a frost giant... soooo much angst I'm sorry lol

A/N: Don't worry, Part 4 is the last part and I'm going to post it a day or so after I post this so you won't have to wait too long 💚

His smile vanishes and he immediately shifts back into his Asgardian form, pulling his fingers free from your other hand. "I'm sorry," he says nervously as he gets up and walks away from you.

"For what?" you ask getting up but he ignores you. "Wait, Loki," you call as he heads towards his bedroom and pauses under the door frame. You walk towards him and say, "Please don't do that. Don't shut me out." You slip your hand into his and he looks at you. "You promised you would talk to me, remember?"

He sighs, "I did promise that, didn't I?"

You nod and try to smile, hoping he will open up to you. You are always worried Loki will retreat behind the walls you've worked so hard to break down.

A small smile tugs at his lips and he says, "I don't know what I did to deserve such a fiercely devoted friend."

You shrug and hold your forced smile as you feel a twinge of pain in your chest when he refers to you simply as his friend.

"We will talk in the morning, I promise," he says as he moves to pull you into a hug. "You need to rest."

You nod and let go of his hand, turning towards the living area. Your heart sinks and you feel a wave of a guilt and concern when you see the state of the couch for the first time. The blanket Loki had given you is in a pile on the floor but you can see several large holes burned into it. The fabric of the cushions are singed far worse than you thought and the wall behind the couch is lightly coated in ash and smoke.

"I didn't realize it was this bad," you say in a stunned voice. You cover your mouth in shock as you realize how close you had come to making your nightmare a reality. Looking at Loki, you lower your hand, "I'm so sorry." You begin the fight to hold back the tears that swiftly push their way to the surface.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," he puts his arms around you, turning you away from the couch. "It is just a piece of furniture," he waves one hand towards the couch. With a light green glow, the blanket vanishes from sight, both the couch and wall return to their previous, un-burnt state. Loki rubs your back in a soothing manner and you lift your head to look up at him. A single tear escapes and he wipes it away before you can hide it from him. "The important thing is that you are okay," he tells you with a caring look.

Loki offers to walk you back to your room and you quickly agree, still feeling the lingering nervousness from your panic attack and nightmare, you are not ready to be alone yet.

As you walk down the hall quietly, his fingers brush against the back of your hand lightly. You want to take his hand but you are unsure how he will react. Would he squeeze your hand as your ever supportive friend then let go as he had done many times before? Would he pull away from you with the forced, polite smile you've seen him use in dozens of interviews? He still seems a bit distant after you had seen his Jotun form, what if he didn't want to be close to you now?

Loki looks down at how closely your hands are and wishes he could reach out for yours. He tries to picture the smile that would light up your face if he was to take your hand and bring it to his lips, kissing your soft skin lightly.

When you reach your door, you pause briefly before opening it.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"I'm afraid to go back to sleep," you admit. "I haven't been in so long but I just... what if it happens again? What if the nightmares are coming back? I don't want to go back to the way it was."

"I'm sure it was just a one time thing. You were over tired from your mission and we both know you have been under a lot of stress lately," Loki tries to reassure you but he can tell it does nothing to ease your fear. He understands better than anyone in the Tower how your nightmares had affected you.

You would stay awake for days at a time when he first met you, fearful that if you closed your eyes for even a second the dreams would return. Loki had helped you discover that your nightmares were triggered by your anxiety, stress and exhaustion. Unfortunately, this meant the more tired or worried you were, the more likely it would be that your sleep would be interrupted.

"Last time they started it was just like this," you tell him. You begin to fear that you were wrong to think your issues sleeping were truly behind you.

Loki is quiet for a moment, one of his hands settles on your lower back gently and he moves it up and down slowly while he thinks. "Would you feel more comfortable if I stayed?" he offers for the first time since your nightmares subsided months ago.

"Yes," you answer without thinking. "I mean... if you don't mind, I know my couch isn't really that great. You're way too tall for it," you hold back a smile remembering the last time Loki feel asleep there, his long legs hanging off the end of what was more of a love seat than a couch.

Loki takes a step towards you, his fingers touching your chin to gently raise your eyes to meet his, "Have you ever known me to offer to do something if i didn't want to do it?"

"No," you smile, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at how close he is standing to you. You hope he doesn't notice but the way his eyes flicker to your cheeks you know he did.

You open your door and he takes your hand as if it was the most natural thing he has ever done. It is hard to focus on anything other than the feeling of his thumb running slowly along your knuckles. You follow him into your apartment without another word.

You tell him you will find him an extra pillow but as soon as the words leave your lips he smirks and you remember who you are talking to. "Don't worry, I've got them," he responds as he conjures a pillow and blanket to place on the couch.

"Right," you smile awkwardly. You wait a moment but when he sits on the couch you realize he isn't planning on giving you a hug before you leave him for the night. You always need just one more hug but you can't bring yourself to ask for one right now.

"Sleep well, Y/N," he tells you.

"Goodnight Loki," you lift your hand to give him a small wave before disappearing into your room.

You lay on your bed and pull the sheets tightly around yourself but you couldn't feel any more awake. The second you close your eyes, your heart races as the faded memories of your nightmare flash across your mind. You open them quickly and look up at the bare ceiling with a groan. You try to push aside your fear that the nightmares are returning, hoping that Loki is right.

Loki... your thoughts stray to the God curled up in your living room. Why had he been so upset when you saw his Jotun form? That's who he truly is, isn't it? He shouldn't be ashamed of that or try to hide it from everyone, you think. But even if he doesn't want the whole world to see him, that shouldn't include you, should it? You weren't just anyone, you were his friend, his best friend. The person he had promised to share everything with. Maybe you aren't as close as you think, maybe that is a part of himself he will never share with you. Or maybe he is waiting to share it with someone he loves and trusts but that person isn't you, you think as you roll over, clinging to your pillow.

Loki conjures a book and lays on your couch with one arm behind his head. He is comfortable enough with his legs bent to fit better on the small piece of furniture but he feels as if something is missing. He realizes he is missing how it felt to have his arms around you, he hadn't hugged you goodnight as he typically would and it left a hollow feeling in his chest. He didn't want to add any more fuel to your already fearful mind and he is unsure how you will truly feel about his Jotun form once you are more rested and able to absorb what you saw.

He closes his book and places it on your coffee table, knowing he will be unable to focus on reading tonight. He is too angry with himself for slipping and revealing his Jotun form. Loki wants nothing more than to have you feel comfortable with him, how could have risked everything like that? How could he have been so stupid and reckless? You were at your most vulnerable and you needed him but he turned into a monster, he scolds himself. What if the sight of him had scared you? You could have hurt yourself with your powers and he knows he would never have been able to forgive himself for that.

He looks up, his attention pulled towards the sound of your bedroom door opening. Sitting up, Loki asks, "Are you okay?"

You shrug and put your arms around yourself. You aren't sure how to explain to Loki how lonely and anxious you feel.

"Do you want to sit out here with me for a bit?" he asks, patting the cushion next to him invitingly.

You nod and sit next to him, he moves the blanket to cover both of your laps and he puts his arm around your shoulders. Instantly, you feel some of the tension begin to leave your body as you relax a bit. "I know I need to sleep but I just can't," you tell him. "It's like my mind won't shut off. I feel bad keeping you awake like this, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," he tells you sincerely. "You stayed awake with me plenty of times when we were working through my nightmares. You are the only reason I am able to sleep now," he reminds you. "What kind of friend would I be if I didn't do the same for you?"

"Thank you Loki," you look up at him with a small, forced smile.

"That is not all that is wrong though, is it?" he asks but you shake your head. "I know you Y/N," he touches your cheek. "I know there is something aren't saying."

You look down, fidgeting with your fingers, you can't help but hate and love how well he knows you. You know you need to tell him something or he will keep asking what is wrong. How are you supposed to tell him your smile faltered because you dislike being reminded that you are nothing more than his friend?

"I was wondering..." you pause as your mind tries to work quickly, "Since neither of us are going to sleep any time soon, maybe we could have that talk now? About what happened with your Jotun form?"

His body tenses and you worry you have made a mistake. Maybe you should have tried to lie about something else or just gone back to your room. After a long stretch of silence he finally nods.

"I never meant for you to see me that way, ever," he says as he shakes his head. Loki shifts, leaving an empty space between you both on the couch. It is only a few inches but it feels like he is miles away. "I wasn't thinking," he continues. "When I saw you surrounded by the flames I knew I needed to help you, to make sure you were safe and the fire was out but I hadn't intended to let... that out." He flinches when he refers to his Jotun form.

"I guess maybe I just don't understand why you want to keep that part of you locked away," you move closer to him.

"The Jotun are monsters, Y/N," he states. "I'm a monster. My father- Odin," he quickly corrects himself, "Made that perfectly clear to Thor and me when we were growing up. He used to tell us stories about them, the same way humans tell their children ghost stories. Jotuns are too be feared and hated and I never wanted you to know that side of me. I don't want you to be afraid of me."

"I admit, I don't know the first thing about Jotuns," you reach for his hand. "But I know you." He looks at you, his eyes are full of pain. "I have never been afraid of you Loki, you know that. Even the first time we met... when you kinda threw me through a wall," you try to joke.

"I have apologized for that," he says defensively.

"I know, I was kidding," you try to explain but you obviously missed the mark. You sigh, "Loki, listen to me. You are not a monster, I don't care what that ass Odin said when you were a kid. You are the most caring person I have ever met. No one has ever treated me this kindly or has put so much effort into trying to understand me."

He smiles as you talk and you can see in his eyes he believes you. "I have met monsters, Loki," you remind him. "We both have fought them on our missions and you are nothing like them. You care too deeply to ever become anything like them."

You put your arms around him and rest your head against his chest. He hugs you back and quietly says, "Thank you, Y/N."

Loki closes his eyes, feeling himself relax for the first time since your nightmare. He takes a deep breath, fighting the urge to tilt your head up so he can press his lips to yours. He wants to be closer to you but instead he places a soft kiss on the top of your head. He cannot risk your friendship, especially not in this moment so he settles for any affection he can as you hug him tighter, your body pressed so perfectly against his.

"You are without a doubt, the best thing that has ever happened to me and I do know what I would do without you in my life," he says, meaning every word.

You smile, knowing how much Loki appreciates you and you feel guilty wishing for more. You want him to say that he loves you, that he wants you in his life as more than his friend but he doesn't and he won't. You push down the torn feelings you have and tell him, "I will always be here for you."

"And I will always be here for you, Y/N," he responds. His body aches to shift forward and seal your promises with a kiss but he still doesn't move.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence he says, "You need to get some rest. You've had a long night."

"We both have," your agree but you still aren't sure you will be able to sleep. You get up from the couch and walk back towards your room but you stop after only a few steps. You turn to look back at Loki and tell him, "I don't want to be alone."

"I'm here," he promises as he sits on your couch.

You bite your lip, holding back the words you want to say. You want to ask him to hold you while you sleep. He had made you feel so protected and safe after your panic attack and you need to feel like that again.

He gets up from the couch and walks towards you when you don't say anything in response. "Would you feel better if I slept in your room tonight?" he asks and you hear a hint of nervousness in his voice, not something you are used to with Loki.

The answer leaves your mouth before you even realize it, "Yes."

You take Loki's hand and lead him into your room. Pulling back the covers you make eye contact with him and realize he looks almost as anxious as you feel. You lay on your side near the edge of the bed, facing away from Loki quietly as he gets in on the other side.

Loki's heart skips a beat with nervous excitement, he truthfully hadn't thought you would accept his offer. As much as he wants to hold you all night he is worried about what will happen after. He fears this will be the only time you allow him into your bed and he knows it will not be enough for him. One night spent near you could never be enough but he will savor every second.

An empty space forms between you and Loki for a few moments then you feel the mattress dip as he rolls over towards you. Without thinking, you shift closer to him and your breath catches when you feel his chest flush to your back. He drapes his arm over you, pulling you flush to his body.

"Is this okay?" he asks quietly in your ear, he hopes you can't feel how quickly his heart is beating.

"It's perfect," you smile, keeping your eyes closed tight, trying to etch this feeling into your mind. You lay completely still, feeling the way his legs tangle with yours loosely, feeling his chest rise and fall as he breaths slowly, your hand covers his which rests lightly on your stomach. You could stay cuddled in his arms forever but you know it won't last. Come morning, he will release you and you will return to sleeping alone.

"Can I ask you something?" you say a few minutes later in a low voice.

"You can ask me anything," he promises.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

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khaire-traveler · 7 hours

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While I was walking in the parade, I saw a man giving out free hugs. I pointed and said, "That's awesome!" "Do you want one?" I walked over, and he gave me the tightest hug I've ever had. As he hugged me, he said, "I'm so glad you're here, kiddo." Let me just say, it was incredibly hard not to cry when I walked away. Even as I type this, I'm crying. In a world filled with such hatred for transfolk right now, it meant the entire world to me to hear that.

To all my fellow LGBTQ+ who don't have a supportive parent or family, I want you to know that you are so, so very loved, even by strangers you've never met. Your life matters, and the world is a better place with you in it. I'm so, so proud of you for being who you are, for wearing your colors with pride, inside or out. You belong here, on this earth, and it's such a blessing that you are here. When you don't feel supported, know that somewhere, there is someone in the world who wishes to lift you up. Someone who would cheer you on. Someone who would give you a free hug. This pride month, remember how wonderful you are. How valid and lovely and special and important you are. You deserve to be here, you deserve to be proud, and most of all, you deserve to be happy. Happy pride month to us all. 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

#pride month #lgbt #lgbt pride #trans pride #pride parade #pride #lgbt ally #← (I'm not the ally but this was a lovely ally experience)#trans #trans support #lgbt support

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abadbitchblogs · 2 days

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SOS

Part 1

Pairing: Jey Uso x OC x Damian Priest

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.6k

a/n: Ya girl is alive y’all! I wanted to revamp this because I felt like y'all deserved more! Thank you to everyone who has supported me and my work. I love y'all! All likes, comments, reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated!

-divider by @cafekitsune

Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion as the entire roster hooped and hollered in celebration of Trin’s return at the Royal Rumble. While shots, champagne and cocktails were being thrown back, all Amirah could do was watch the way her best friend humbly received the love she deserved with tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. It was such a full circle moment for her; comforting Trinity when leaving the company broke her, supporting her decision to join Impact! Wrestling, then experiencing the reception of her homecoming. Watching her fall back into the swing of things like she never left felt so satisfying. Before she could spiral into an emotional breakdown, a large hand waving in her face snapped her out of her thoughts making her scrunch her nose in confusion. “Aye, girl! You good?” Jimmy’s furrowed brows and jutted out bottom lip came into focus, immediately coaxing a laugh out of her. Jimmy was one person that you could count on to lift your spirits without even trying- he was the textbook definition of goofy.

“I'm good, promise!” If he doubted she was telling the truth, the content glimmer in her eyes deterred him from pressing the matter any further. Instead, she looped her arm with his and dragged him back over to their friends where they could enjoy their night out. Plopping down on the sectional next to Trinity, the group of superstars fell into easy conversation catching up with those who are on a different brand as they only see each other during the major PLEs. Somehow the chat turned into the couples pestering the single people; i.e Bayley and Amirah. Bay may have fought to defend herself, but she just found their concern amusing. “Listen. I don't treat being single like a punishment. I love being by myself. I aint gotta worry about nobody cheating on me, nobody resenting me for my career or trying to police my body.” No lies were detected as they all had no choice but to agree. Relationships in their business were hard whether you were with a fellow pro wrestler or a regular person. “Besides, the chances of finding real love like y’all are slim as hell!”

“I know that's right!” Bianca gloated; her and Montez’s reality show was doing so well that they were WWE’s IT couple. Mirah playfully chucked a straw at their girlfriend while Trin, Bay, and Jade were too busy laughing at her EST antics surfacing outside of the ring. “ What about you and Damian? I be seeing y’all posted up looking cozy?” The question got a chorus of ‘oooohs’ from the women, but Bayley made a face of disgust at her friends’ insinuation. “Girl no. We're just good friends. That man doesn't have a committal bone in his body.” Amirah hummed in affirmation having heard the rumors about Damian Priest and his revolving door of women. “I'm honestly surprised that the two of you aren’t close. He's from New York, you're from New York. He's single and you've sworn off relationships. And I know you like them a little older.” The woman’s jaw dropped at Bayley’s insane attempt at matchmaking. “Girl are you trying to set me up with a sneaky link?” That sent all of the women into another uncontrollable fit of laughter. “You do need some dick.” Trin wheezed out, furthering Amirah’s appalled facial expression before she swatted her best friend’s arm. “You know what? I’m out of here.” A laugh bubbled out of her as she stood dramatically from their huddle only to turn and lock eyes with Jey Uso.

There he was hugging his twin with his chocolate orbs boring into her chestnut ones. Spinning on her heel, she suggested the girls go down to the dance floor for a song or two. “Come on y'all. We can't let this night pass without shaking a lil something.” Clasping Trinity’s hands, she pulled her to her feet then tugged her towards the stairs with a “We’re going downstairs to dance for a little bit, Jim,” thrown over her shoulder. They scurried by without waiting for a response although she knew Jimmy and Montez were going to follow them anyway to keep an eye on the group. One of the things that Amirah and Trinity bonded over was their love of music and dance with both of them being former dancers. As much as Jimmy hated it when Trin showed her ass, he was going to have to suck it up tonight because they were owed some time to let loose. All that is holy must've been on their side because as soon as they made it to the center of the dancefloor, Twerk by the City Girls and Cardi B blared on the speakers. “Come on, Trin! Lemme see something!” It was always fun to get Trin and Bianca to cut up because Trin was going to kill it every time but Bianca had no damn rhythm. The club was playing banger after banger after banger after banger. If they weren't professional athletes, their feet and edges would be shot to hell. Amirah was throwing her ass back on Trinity, both of them cackling at Jade and Bayley trying to show B how to catch the beat when the tempo slowed to a ballad. Of course it was a song that a nigga always dedicated to her to make her feel special and now it pissed her off.

This is for you, you, my number one This is for you, you, my number one Oh, yeah, yeah-yeah This is for you, you, my number one

Sucking her teeth as Jimmy giddily cut in for a slow dance with his wife, Mirah cut through the crowd to head back to their section for another drink when she bumped into the only person she did not want to see. His grills seemed to glow in the low light of the club but before he could get a word out, she took a sharp left in search of the restroom. A wave of nausea crawled through her body and she needed to gather herself after coming in contact with that parasite. Just when her hand grasped the doorknob of the ladies room for a moment of solitude, a large hand engulfed her other wrist pausing her movements. “Mirah…” She didn’t even need to turn around to know who the trifling ass voice belonged to. Calmly snatching her wrist from his hold, she shifted her weight to one foot with a snarl etched on her gloss coated lips. “I’m sorry. Do we know each other?” Jey’s eyes softened at her faux confusion as he took a step toward her and her, taking a step back to keep space between them. “Mirah, come on. I just wanna talk to you. I wanna explain myself.” His pleading only made the bile in her throat rise, making her face twist in disgust.

“Nigga, you should’ve thought about talking to me before you just cut me off like I was some random bitch.” Her words dripped with malice in hope of it being enough to get him to leave her alone. “We ain’t got shit to talk about as far as I’m concerned.” Shoulder checking him as she walked by, not even wanting to be in the same building as him, Jey fought the urge to reach out to her again. He knew getting her to talk to him would be near impossible, but he was determined. Amirah was worth taking accountability and uncomfortable conversations.

Amirah shuffled through the sea of bodies on the dance floor to find her friends and wish them a goodnight. Trinity spotted the agitated look on her best friend’s face immediately even though she tried to plaster a smile over it. “What happened, boo?” Trin’s brows furrowed in worry only to have Mirah wave it off. “Nothing! I’m good. I’m just going to call it night. That liquor ain’t sitting right in my stomach.” The lie came out faster than she could even register, but it wasn’t a total lie. That bastard did indeed make her sick to her stomach. “Oh okay! We’ll go back with you. I wanna make sure you’re okay.” Gesturing for Jimmy to come over to the two of them, Amirah shook her head in protest. “Hell no. You stay and keep celebrating. You deserve it! I’ll be fine! I already called an Uber and I’ll text you when I’m back in my room.” Pulling her bestie into a tight embrace, she gave her a fat kiss on the cheek before moving to hug their group of friends goodbye. Much to her delight, no one questioned her sudden decline of health too much, just the request of a text message to let them know when she got back to the hotel. With a promise that she would text them as soon as she got in, Mirah flew to the exit of the club like a bat out of hell.

Sucking in a breath of fresh air, the feeling of relief washed over her soothing the queasiness that plagued her. The Florida streets were surprisingly peaceful at night, allowing her to fully collect herself and actually call an Uber so she just wasn’t standing outside of the club like a lame. As she pulled her phone out of her black purse, the club’s doors opened once more flooding the silence with music. A tap on her shoulder made her slap a friendly smile on her face in case it was a fan wanting an autograph or a picture. But, it was neither and her smile morphed into one of shock when she came face to face with Señor Money in the Bank. Damian was dark and broody so she did not expect to see him at a nightclub, but if his reputation precedes him then he was here for a woman- or two. “Señor Money in the Bank. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Wiping the shock off her face, she mirrored his playful and dare she say- flirty smirk. “Well I was by the bar when I saw you rush out so I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Feigning surprise, Amirah placed a hand over her heart and cooed at his sweet gesture. “Wait until everyone finds out that Señor Playboy is a gentleman.”

Her teasing pulled a chuckle out of him as he cocked a brow in question. “Playboy huh?” “Mhmm I’ve heard about you.” Laughing once more, Damian accepted defeat but pushed for info on his supposed playboy reputation. “So you’ve been asking about me?” Zeroing in on Amirah’s smaller frame with his almost charcoal gaze, it was her turn to laugh. “You wish.” His smile broadened at her bratty comeback before he very noticeably gave her a once over. “¡Te ves hermosa.” Damian’s eyes met hers again with his gravelly voice scratching her brain deliciously. Maybe Bayley was right; he was fun. “Oh I know.” Mirah shot down his suave Spanish approach smugly, crossing her arms over her chest. “¿Hablas español?” “No, but you pick up a few things when you live in Harlem for a while.”

Both intrigued and amused by the other superstar’s answer, Damian vowed to get to know her better in any capacity. “You know I was actually heading back to the hotel myself. Why don’t we share a ride? Uber is already on the way.” After contemplating getting in a car with him, Amirah pointed an accusatory finger at him. “If you insist, BUT no funny business.” Raising his hands in mock surrender, he flashed another cheek numbing smile at her. “Promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.” Slapping his chest for his dramatics, she couldn’t help her own snicker which he ate all the way up.

Their Uber pulled up two minutes later and like the gentleman he was, Damian had helped her climb into the truck before getting in after she was comfortable. “So do you still live in New York?” He pried quietly while they enjoyed their ride back to the hotel. “Sure do.” She replied proudly, watching the palm trees go by as the car rolled on. “Me too. Maybe we could be travel partners.” Humming in thought, she turned to him with a soft smile. “Yeah maybe. I don’t know how often I can be seen with you in public though before people start talking.” He chortled at the woman’s response before giving his own, “Fair enough.” The rest of their car ride was occupied with a game of 21 questions about themselves and their interests outside of wrestling. Coming to a stop outside of the hotel, the pair thanked the driver for his service and Damian exited the car first on the other side to come around and help her out. She could only laugh to herself about him turning on the charm heavily. When they entered the elevator, Mirah noticed that the taller man didn’t press a button for his floor so she shot him a quizzical look. “What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t walk you to your door?”

With a playful eyeroll she muttered a ‘whatever’ and let the space fill with a comfortable silence. At least she’d be able to get up early for a workout and the night turned out… interesting. A ding broke both of them out of their thoughts as they shuffled off the elevator on the 14th floor. Amirah could feel his eyes studying the swing of her hips while she led him to her room. Abruptly stopping at her door, Damian almost crashed into the back of her too focused on how she managed to walk in those killer shoes effortlessly. “This is me.” She stated, leaning against her door curious to see how the night would end. “Well I think my job here is done. You have arrived safely.” “That reminds me.” Before her friends put out an APB for her, she texted in their group chat that she had mad it back to her room. “Thank you for the escort. I appreciate it.” “It was my pleasure and if you don’t mind,” Damian carefully slid her phone into his hand and input his number. “You know in case I can be of service to you again.” Peering at him through squinted eyes she gave him a drawn out nod. “Riiiiiiiiight.”

Smirking down at her for the last time, he gently took her hand and raised it to his lips for a kiss on her knuckles while gazing into her cocoa colored eyes. “M’lady, I bid you farewell.” And with that, he turned on his heel and disappeared down the hall in long strides. Entering her hotel room and shutting the door behind her, Amirah collapsed against the door like women in romcoms. Girl what the fuck just happened. Taking in another deep breath, she headed to the bathroom for a much needed shower and to wring her damn panties out. Wait until she tells the girls about what just happened. Before she climbed into the shower to wash off the scent of booze, lust and worn leather, she shot the mysterious man a text of what she meant to say before he left her utterly speechless.

{Princesa: Goodnight 🖤}

{Papi Chulo: Buenas noches hermosa 🖤}

mirrormirah

mirrormirah Your favorite athlete's favorite athlete 🖤

Liked by archerofinfamy, trinity_fatu and 482,719 others

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trinity_fatu THAT'S MY FRIEND 🥳

⤿ mirrormirah BEST FRIEND!!!! get it right!

biancabelairwwe the finEST

⤿ mirrormirah That's all you bby ❤️

theyluvjeannie80 I know that's right !!!!!

⤿ mirrormirah I luv you boo 😘

archerofinfamy 😈

⤿ mirrormirah 🥰

⤿ bossglowstandard oop 👀👀

jadecargill sexy af 🥵

⤿ mirrormirah trying to get like you 😋

Taglist:

@empressdede @wrestlingprincess80 @whatdoeseverybodywant @alichesmi @reci1996 @2-muchsauce @cyberdejos2 @southerngirl41 @brie-mode-activated @piinklemonad3 @lucidddreamerrr

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cvnt4him · 15 hours

Text

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

It doesn't make any sense to him, really.

How did you, the same person he, not that'd it even come up in conversation, helplessly.... 'massaged' himself a little too 'roughly' until he blew his load, how did you have him like this? You were towering over him on his bed as he held your hips, bucking into you, god he needs you so bad. You felt that and you ate it up. You loved the fact he needed you.

The room was filled with hot breaths and moans accompanied by groans and whines occasionally, it was a little misunderstanding really, you had never intended to get the #1 hero all hot and bothered while spending the day with him for your little vlog.

"SPENDING THE DAY WITH THE #1 HERO!!!"

The title of your YouTube video, you just wanted to meet him is all, and when he dm'd YOU, for a colab? You were over the moon!! You'd wanted to meet him for so long!! Maybe at a meet n greet, or some kind of convention, or anything else but no, he wanted to colab with you.

You were in another state at the time, filming in case you have some kind of posting material, when he told you you'd be flying in his very own private jet??? Yeah what kind of Wattpad fanfic is this?? This doesn't just happen in real life, and yet it did, to you.

The way he hugged you for the first time like he loved the warmth you aid to him, like your body was just what he needed, craved. God if only you knew what slutty dirty things he did to himself thinking of you that night, you'd be so disgusted in him!!

Or would you?

That question was all that clouded poor zuzus thoughts as he studied and observed you very closely as you spent your time together.

"we'll be staying in my penthouse! It's pretty big so you can have your own room until I fly you back out to New York!! If that's alright with you, of course."

He spoke to you in the sweetest, calmest, voice ever, his words so hypnotic, he hadn't realized you'd practically been under his spell for so long, this really was the dream, meeting your celebrity crush, STAYING WITH HIM?? You're sleeping, in his very own house. penthouse, that is.

You two played games, watched movies, and you asked him questions his very own fans would've loved to have known. And he shared every detail with you, with pure utter truth laced in his words. Everything he told you was true, because he felt he couldn't lie to you. You were so pure!! Such an angel! You didn't deserve to be lied to or harmed, ever!

"and that was 'spending the day with izuku midoriya'!!' you say as you end your video with your normal 'like n subscribe' shit and turn your camera off sighing at how much footage you'll have to edit and keep to yourself, but hey at least you got a day with your husband out of it!!

He looked at you, observingly, as you sigh and out your hand in the back of your neck in a tired sense.

"man you don't know how tiring it really is being an influencer, haha!" You joke.

He chuckled lightly, gaze still locked on you, your hands, how much smaller they are in comparison to his, how soft they are, how well you'd please him with them.

He really didn't want his mind going there with you, honest! It was never his intentions!! But how could he help himself? You were just so mesmerizing, corrupting. Izuku had never been such a pervert before he'd looked at your beautiful face!

So really, these thoughts, his growing erection that painfully twitches behind his zipper, the amount of precum leaking from his already needy and ready cock, it's your fault. All your fault.

If you hadn't looked so good, spoke to him with a honey like voice, with such a sultry tone, he wouldn't have gotten these thoughts! He wouldn't have gotten this hard.

So yeah, when he stood and glided behind you and put his hands on your shoulder, rubbing and massaging the tense area, causing a low moan to rip right out of you, which he heard and accepted, there was no way, in any way, any if this could even remotely be his fault!

He was just giving you what he knew you needed, a nice relaxing massage. Like the one he gave himself 2 weeks ago listening to the sound of your drunken voice and slurred words as you fan girls over meeting him, how much you loved his suit and how sexy you really thought he was, it's a shame you hadn't actually gotten to see him in his hero suit much today, maybe some other time!

He continued to massage you little whimpers escaping you from the rough yet gentle motions of his heavy, warm, hands, the way his hands trailed up to your neck then back down to your shoulders, it felt so amazing, you couldn't help but close your eyes and let him control you.

You hadn't realized it at first, but this slut really was pressing his oh so hard cock right up against your back, and he.. was he moaning?

The sounds of this grown adult man, whimpering lightly above you, grinding his weeping cock, against your back like some teenaged virgin, made your eyes shoot wide open, you didn't move, you say there, listening and being patient to assure this was what was actually happening.

Once you were sure, you quickly whipped your body around to look at him with a smirk, he jumped in confusion and terror, he was so afraid that you had caught onto what he was doing, and you did.

You scoffed, and looked him up and down, eyes trailing back down to his hard on them widening at the heavy amount of precum that left his still twitching cock.

Damn, well at least you knew his cock was thick and strong enough to make his pants move along with his cock.

"had you really thought I didn't notice the way you were grinding against me like a slut?"

He whimpered opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish. It was never his intentions!!! Honest!! Why won't you believe him! This is your fault anyways!! Take responsibility!

He thought of what he wanted to say, opening his mouth before being completely shut down by you, as you laughed out loud at the sight in front of you, his eyes were glossy, his cock was still twitching, and his hair was slightly messy, was he really gonna cum against your back?

"wow, I idolized a hero, a man known for his big bright smile, a smile that could save a man's life. And yet, here he is, rubbing his disgusting cock against his acquaintance, not even, technically a business partner. I never knew you were such a dirty, pathetic, slut."

He looked at you in horror, fuck. He really was a slut. And damn did it get him so hot and bothered when you called him one, the way you spat venom with each word that left your beautifully glossed lips, a smirk still painted upon your features, and you scoff once more.

He looked as if he was gonna cry, really he did, you laughed at that.

"are you really gonna cry because I caught you, being a dirty whore? God, you really are pathetic."

You laughed again, but you hadn't known, the real reason he was gonna cry was because, yeah sure, he was humiliated and embarrassed, but he was teary eyed because he was enjoying it. He knew he was a slut, only slits enjoy being degraded in such ways, with such hurtful names, he enjoyed it so much his cock started leaking again.

You wiped a tear that left your eye from the belly laugh you just had, as you sigh with a smile still on your face, you look at him in his eyes as he instantly looked away, covering his face with his arm.

"This is your fault.."

He said to you, in the softest, sluttiest, shakiest voice he could muster up.

It really was pathetic you almost busted out laughing again, but you'd thought you'd spare him the extra embarrassment.

You were curious on what he meant by 'your fault'.

"whatever do you mean, midoriya?"

You ask blessing him with the beautiful sound of you calling him by his last name.

He couldn't even look at you, let alone speak. He sighed, arm still covering his red, sweaty, freckled face.

So he asks himself again, how did you, manage to get on top of him, stroking his leaky, dribbling cock as he moans and writhes underneath you, you had demanded he tie himself up with black whip and he obeyed without a word. He needed this and you loved that.

You had been edging him for an hour now, he hadn't came but he felt like he could, all he wanted to do was cum for you, all he wanted was to please you, be inside of you!

You were really bullying and torturing him for basically defending himself against your forceful will. You were the one who started rubbing your neck as your shirt draped off of your shoulder.

You did this to him, and yet he's being punished? It wasn't fair! He didn't deserve to be edged and tortured by your, just as predicted, soft, smaller than, hands, the way you held his thick cock with both of your hands, your fingers not being able to touch around his slightly veined length, he loved how much you enjoyed getting him off like this, hell just blatantly torturing him, so you endured it for a little while longer, for you.

His pants and boxers had been ruined with his precum, you had discarded them long ago, you rub your hands up and down his cock in painfully fast strokes, it hurt so bad all he could do was sob underneath you and arch up into your touch.

His leaky cock just wouldn't stop leaking, giving you more precum every time you gave his pretty glossed cock a full stroke, you rubbed the tip of his cock repeatedly, rubbing and smearing his sticky precum around the head of his cock, earning a loud whine from him, he was putty in your pretty, manicured hands.

"do you want it, big boy? Does my big strong man need it? Need to cum?~" you tease and coo to him in a baby like voice, with pouty lips, laughing at his reactions to this, he nodded eagerly with little 'yes please's and 'mhm!'s leaving his plump lips that had been chewed to the point its practically numb.

You continued your fast strokes before pulling both your hands away laughing at his body leaning forward for your touch, the sobs and heavy tears that leave his body are genuinely so cute.

He wanted to cum so badly, he needed it! How could you be so cruel!

"please.. please! Let me.. make me cum!! Mommy~..."

He whined with a string of pleas leaving his mouth as he sobs helplessly begging for the release he needed, he could taste, he just needed you to get him there.

Oh?

That's new? And actually, oddly fucking hot, you'd never been called mommy before, you actually fucking liked it.

"what's that, pretty boy?"

He hadn't meant for it to slip! It just did! He felt far too good in the given moment and had to beg for his release which you still haven't graced upon him.

He whined and looked away, you scoff and think, how will you get him to call you mommy again?

Oh, that's right, bargaining!

"alright, midoriya, let's make a deal. You call me mommy again, no, beg for me, whilst calling me mommy, and I'll let you come, promise."

He listened, he liked the way that sounded.

He gulped down hard, look at you with those big die eyes of his, batting away tears threatening to spill from him, as he sighed shakily.

"please... mommy?" Was all he gave, his voice whispered as he looked up at you with tired pleading eyes,he sighed frowning deeply as he was sticky in sweat and his own pre, his cock still twitching and aching, he needed it but he wasn't going to make you give it to him, he truly was a good boy!!

You sighed, satisfied with what he'd given you, and you finally, granted him with the sweet relief of cumming his brains out, which he did, beautifully as he shook and turned and sobbed begging for the sweet release while you stroked his cock in a hurried pace, you were glad you'd given him the sweet and savory release he needed.

"good boy."

Was all you said as he rolled his eyes back and shot thick, white, planks of his hot white cum all over your hands, shirt, and all over his own chest, he always came a lot, so this was expected from him, however you, you hadn't expected there to be this much, and hell he was stilk cumming, little drips of his white seed still spilling from his overstimulated, twitching, cock now softening in you palm as you petted his thick girth it lying limp in your hand.

He sighed in relief, he'd finally cum and was spent, all he wanted now was to cuddle the cause of his explosion of an orgasm.

Which you granted, you hadn't expected to start dating after this, but you'd better believe you'd be meeting like this again. He vowed that he'd bend you over every surface he had to, to get you obsessed and brain dead with his cock, it belonged to you.

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

AN; I feel like this is pretty good, now that I'm for the most part well rested and not in a mood, I think I wrote this well enough! Enjoy babes<33

Taggies!!; @lovelykil, @heromissy, @v3n7s, @lily-sinclair-2006

#deku smut #deku x reader #izuku is so girlie pop #izuku x reader #boku no hero academia #mha #zuzubear #ph!deku #pro hero deku #my hero #mha x reader #cvnts-post

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koolades-world · 16 hours

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Heyy happy 2k followers man! Well deserved 🎉🎉

Can I request Asmodeus with prompt number 7? Thank you and congratulations on 2k once again!

thank you! of course i can!

you guys obviously haven't seen the rest of the requests yet but this event is telling me you guys really love asmo. i did not anticipate him being the most requested, but i don't mind writing more for him outside of this event if that's what the people want :)

enjoy <3

prompt 7 w/ Asmo

"Mc? Where are you? It's almost time to go! You know the party doesn't start until we get there." Asmo yelled out, searching the halls of the HoL looking for you. He'd checked your room and didn't find you, so instead, he decided to check the bathroom. He'd told you you could get ready in his bathroom, but you'd insisted you wanted your outfit to be a surprise.

"Asmo. I'm in here!" He was surprised to hear your voice coming from Mammon's room. That disheartened him a little, but he entered nonetheless. Mammon was actually nowhere to be found, but you were seated at his vanity, all your things scattered around on the table.

"What're you doing in here, you cutie? You look fabulous." He gave you a side hug, scanning your face.

"Thank you! I thought really hard about how to match this necklace." You placed a hand on your neck, showing off the centerpiece of your outfit. "Mammon wanted to go shower, so I just offered we swap places since all I needed was a mirror to do my hair." You resumed what you were doing before he walked in.

Asmo studied your outfit, admiring the color coordination and the way you used what you had available, but he eventually just started admiring you. You were more focused on what you were doing, but he was enthralled with you. The way you squinted a little when you focused and the way you unconsciously furrowed your eyebrows was endearing to him. He enjoyed these moments of peace with you before going out. While he lovingly stared at you, he realized the odd familiarity your outfit brough him.

"Is that my shirt?" He had given you free access to his closet, but this would be the first time you'd actually taken him up on that offer.

"It is! It was the last piece to my perfect outfit. Hope you don't mind." You beamed at him. He couldn't have been more happy.

"Do I! Of course I don't. You look absolutely darling in that shirt. In fact, I'm tempted to let you keep it, because you wear it better," he squealed. He plopped down in your lap and set his head on your shoulder. You looped one arm around him as best as you could to hold him in place. He loved the way you looked when you laughed.

"No, you should keep it so I always have an excuse to slip into your room." You continued fixing your hair as the two of you chatted.

"You're always welcome in my room silly." He wouldn't lie, he wanted you in his room every chance he got so he got all the time he wanted with you for himself.

"That's true. Still, keep the shirt. I think it looks cuter on you. Nobody can wear anything better than you." The way you smiled at him made him feel like he was the only demon in the Devildom.

"You know the way right to my heart! As long as you promise to come borrow it frequently." He conceded to you. He always caved to your demands.

"Cross my heart and hope to die." He knew that that was a human saying. He still didn't full understand it, but he recognized the emotion infused within in it. The way you said the words was more than enough for him to know what you wanted to convey to him.

"Ah, I just adore you. We're late to that party by now, but that's fine. We're fashionably late, and besides, I'd skip any party to spend time with you." He began to play with the baby hairs at the back of your neck, sighing contently. He hoped you understood the meaning behind his words. He was far too scared to say the L word, afraid of scaring you off, but he always tried his best in his actions to help you understand his words unspoken.

As if you heard what he was thinking, you said, "I feel the same. If you wouldn't mind, do you think we could just sit like this for a little bit longer? I love us time." Asmo felt his heart catch in this throat at the mention of the very word he was petrified of using.

"Yes, but not too long. I don't want Mammon to ruin this moment. We can canoodle at the party too, you know." He remembered at some point that they were in Mammon's room, and that he could be back at any moment. He'd for sure break up the fun they were having.

"I have an idea, then. Hang on tight." The last thing he was expecting was for you to get a tighter grip on him and stand up with him in your arms. He playfully shrieked and used that excuse to huddle closer to you. He loved you, in a way he'd never knew he could love before. He just never anticipated it would be a human that made him feel the way he did. It didn't matter to him though. Perhaps someday he could muster up the courage to utter those three simple words to you.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date #obey me! shall we date?

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greetingfromthedead · 3 days

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Five Hugs (Vash x GN!Reader)

Plot: Five occasions, worthy of a hug. (5 drabbles)

Series: A Set of Five [more coming soon]

Pairing: Vash x GN!Reader

Raiting: Everyone

Tags: fluff, no use of "y/n", a touch of angst, cozy, cuddles, dancing, Vash being a hero as usual, affirmation, Vash just deserves a hug in general

Word count: 2k

Author's Note: I've been torturing Vash a lot lately so I decided to give him five hugs. Probably five kisses soon too and if there is something else you want to see, let me know.

You had to run again. Chased out of town for something as little as showing your face at the saloon. Or rather, it was Vash's face that sparked the whole ordeal. The bounty on his head doesn't make it easy to take life slowly and enjoy it. But you refuse to leave his side.

You slide down along the smooth surface of the rock. The suns beating down on you as you grip the water bottle tightly in your hand. Your heart beats ferociously in your throat, and you wait for it to calm down to take a sip. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, trying to focus on the sound of your tomas rattling her gear.

"Well, where should we go now then?" Vash's calm voice asks, breaking the tension in the air.

You don't answer him, instead leaning your head back against the hard rock. The fear finally leaves your bones, as you know you are far enough away from the town to be safe. It still stings to be treated this way, to constantly have to be on edge and alert.

"We could head more east; we should come across a small village before nightfall. Maybe we can camp in someone's attic. Hopefully we can stock up on water too." He sounds so lighthearted and carefree as he starts formulating a plan in his head.

You watch him with curiosity after drinking from your flask. He turns his head from side to side while looking into the distance before taking off his glasses and inspecting them. He seems to find a spot on them as he grabs the lower edge of his black turtleneck. He pulls it up to rub the lenses with it. The small action reveals a bit of his scarred skin on his stomach, which he usually carefully hides under fabric. This simple act reminds you just how much he trusts you. He wouldn't willingly show his old wounds to just anyone.

"Are you okay?" you ask quietly, but just enough for him to hear you.

"Mh?? Ah, yeah, I am fine." Vash straightens his shirt again and puts the glasses back on. "Eehh, I don't really care if they chase me and try to capture me for the bounty. They have their own problems, and I'm sure that money would help them. I'm just worried I will drag you into the crossfire."

You noticed the change in his carefree tone towards the end. He does worry about you a lot. Despite what he says, you know that the truth is a whole lot more complicated. He holds no grudges against anyone, but you doubt that he doesn't care. A man who loves humanity so deeply is bound to have his heart broken when he is forced away from what he holds so dear. You can see the pain in his eyes, despite his attempts to hide it.

Words don't come easy in this situation. What could you even say to that? Instead, you push yourself up again, slide the flask into the saddlebag, and walk up to Vash. You glance at his curious eyes, but you can't force your gaze to stay on them. You approach him decisively and only stop once your arms wrap around his torso. The moment your head rests against his chest, you squeeze him tighter.

He stands there with surprise for a moment before putting his arms around you too, his gaze softening as he holds you close. You don't say anything; instead, you just bury your face in his black shirt and hug him as tight as you can. He has been through so much in his long life, and you can't change the past. You are powerless against the present, and perhaps there is nothing you can do about the future. All you can do is hold him close and show him that you care. That you believe in him.

"Thank you." Vash speaks softly, his large hand stroking your head.

A loud bang echoes through the town square just as the grip of your captor loosens around your neck. A collective gasp echoes through the crowd of onlookers, and you push yourself free, running towards the source of the noise.

"Son of a…!" The enraged voice of the bandit leader calls out, but you keep sprinting without looking back. You hear the slightest thump behind you as his gun hits the ground, but you don't care anymore. It's like you can still feel the barrel pressed against your temple, the tears of fear turning into ones of relief in your eyes.

You jump into Vash's arms, knowing that you are finally safe. He catches you with his left arm, the prosthesis wrapping tightly around your back as your feet lift off the ground. His right hand still holds his gun, ready to take another shot as needed. You bury your face in his shoulder, feeling grateful and protected. He turns his whole body and sets you back on the ground, positioning himself between you and the bandit that held you captive. You hear him whisper, "I've got you now."

Even as your grasp on him loosens, his stays firmly around your shoulders, pressing you more into him. He's not letting go. Your vision is obscured by his large coat, and you don't see as the large man is being cuffed and dragged away by the others. Only then dares Vash to put away his weapon into its holster and release his tight grip on you. He grabs your upper arms and leans back as he looks you over.

"Are you alright?" he asks with a tremor in his voice. He notices the redness on your throat, and his fingers gently touch the bruising skin. "I am so sorry!"

"I'm okay! I'm okay!" you say frantically as you nod, your breath escaping you in short gasps.

"Thank goodness!" he exclaims, relief washing over him. He grabs you into a tight hug again, his cheek pressing against the top of your head.

"Would you do me the honor of joining me for a dance?" Vash says with a crooked smile as he offers you his hand. You blush a bit at his public tomfoolery and down the rest of your drink before leaving the empty glass at the bar. You take his hand with a smile.

"Gladly," you reply softly as his fingers grip yours. You feel a rush of excitement as he leads you onto the dance floor. The saloon is filled with lively music and people dancing to the beat. The liquid courage definitely helps you in this situation and gives you the confidence to let go and enjoy the moment. Vash's hands rest on your hips, and yours find his shoulders. A goofy smile is plastered on his face as he starts to lead you in a twirl. He does not mind that he occasionally bumps into someone else or that a few people start laughing at his exaggerated style. He is just too excited to have you in his arms, dancing with him. Their laughter is drowned out by the music and the joy in his heart. The giggle that escapes you as he sweeps you around only encourages him further, making him take longer steps and turn you faster. He chuckles at your expression, and one dance turns into many.

You have no hope of keeping up with his long strides, and as you get more and more tired, you end up stumbling over them a few times. His arms keep you steady, and your clumsiness only makes his smile wider. The looks of others do not matter; all you see is Vash's enchanting face, and all he sees is you. In that moment, you realize that you are exactly where you are meant to be, no matter how ridiculous you might feel.

As you gaze into his eyes, your foot gets stuck behind his again, but instead of just keeping you steady, Vash pulls you up and wraps his arms around you, right under your butt, to keep your feet off the ground. You grab him into a hug, giggling by his ear as you hold on to him. Vash twirls you about and continues to dance around the room as you embrace each other.

Vash lays halfway on top of you, his head resting on your chest, his arms wrapped around you. It is a peaceful night as you've settled into an abandoned house in an empty village. The room is dusty, but it is cozy and filled with a sense of safety and warmth. Your fingers brush through his hair as you listen to the sound of his steady breathing. You know he isn't asleep yet, but there is no need to fill the quiet of twilight with words. You both find refuge in the peaceful silence that envelops you.

Vash is curled up against you, his legs somewhat entangled with yours. The tall and surprisingly burly man seems almost tiny as he enjoys your touch, your other hand resting on his back. He takes comfort from your heartbeats under his ear and the feeling of your touch. Anywhere is home if you're by his side. Your hug is all he needs to feel safe; your love gives him the strength to face anything.

You let your nails run over his scalp, and you feel a slight shudder move through him, a little moan escaping his lips, a sign of pure contentment. You wish you could wrap him up more, keep him even closer, and protect him like he protects you. You want to keep him in your heart, protected from all harm. But the best you can do is this. Having him hold on to you, your arms around him, as he snuggles close all night, or at least until you need to settle into a position more suitable for sleeping the night away, but even then, he enjoys your cuddles and doesn't want to let go.

"Are you sure about this?" you ask as you look up at him, pain reflecting on your face.

"Yes. I have to. I am the only one who can put an end to this," he says, but his eyes are down turned and mournful.

"Then let me come with you!" you insist, grabbing hold of his right sleeve.

"Please…" he says with a sigh, his tone pleading, "I need you to evacuate as many people as you can, even if it is only yourself."

You look at him dumbfounded and then turn your head to look at the streets of July. The town is massive; how can he expect you to make any difference here in getting people out? Wouldn't you be better off with him, trying to prevent the thing that could put people in danger?

"I need you to be safe," he murmurs, his voice full of concern as he takes your hand into his, squeezing your fingers gently. You can feel his worry radiating off of him. He has so much on his mind; you know he doesn't want to be worrying over you too. He wanted to leave you at Home, but you refused. You need him on his A-game for this, you have realized just how dangerous the situation really is.

"That goes for you too!" You press, "You have to come back to me! You understand? You have to! So promise me!"

"I promise, I will come back to you!" He says resolutely and releases your hand, instead pulling you into a hug, and you melt into his embrace, your arms securely around him.

"Can we wrap this up already?" the dark haired man asks, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth.

Vash holds you tight for a moment longer, ignoring Wolfwood as he leans closer to your ear.

"I love you," he whispers, his breath tingling your skin.

He lets go, and you take a step back, looking at him with determination. You will both get out of this alive.

Did you like this? Go check out my MASTERLIST and drop a follow for any and all future projects!

#trigun #fanfiction #fanfic #vash the stampede #humanoid typhoon #plant boi #x reader #writing

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kamisama1kiss · 16 hours

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Omg I saw that your requests are open, can I request Asahi Azumane fluffy please? 🥹

I love asahi sm 😭🙏 Never see enough of him when it comes to content on any platform. I Shall serve 🫡

~~~

Asahi Azumane Headcanons { The Giant Lover }

- He'd give the best hugs, with the ultimate comfort factor being 100% the same with cuddling he is like a warm blanket on two legs. He is a huger in private, no doubt that.

- Always asking if you need help with anything, let's say you're short and can't reach something he'd help with no hesitation. Would maybe tease you a little about it, but nothing too major

- Studying would never be the same, he would be the kind to not tell you the answer but help you find it yourself with guidance.

- On every date, he brings either chocolate, a little teddy, flowers, or some small candies. Which ever is your favourite, knowing it makes you smile, then it's enough for him. Truly seeing his love happy makes him the happiest man alive.

- Not into PDA, since he is already insecure, which means he doesn't want to attract any more eyes on him than needed already. Maybe a small cheek peck if he feels confident in the moment.

- He's definitely the kind of guy to admire you from afar when you are doing anything, sleeping? Yup. Playing a sport? 100%. Simply just talking to him about an interest? Is no even a answer?

- After school, it would be routine of walking to the gym together before you left to go home. It would also include a hug and a small kiss if there is time. Of course, he would get teased by Tanaka and Nishinoya all the time if they catch the duo in action.

- Oh, how he adores you. Even a blind man could see that he is head over heels for you and only you.

- Top best support system if you're going through a hard time, holding you, communicating, checking up on you constantly, and most of all, reminding you how proud of you he is. "You're doing amazing, sunshine." And "I am very proud of you, love." More alike.

- Writes poems after poems about his feelings for you, would even sometimes plant one in your locker every now and then with his favourite one.

- You feel uncomfortable in a social situation he will ask if you want to leave or he tries to distract you, keep your eyes and focus on him.

- No matter how sweet he is, we have to come to terms with the fact that he is a busy guy, but nonetheless, he tries to give you a date once every two months.

- Loves bringing you along with him to when he goes to practice or sometimes (not by choice) has you tagging along for a volleyball battle.

- He might be big and scary, but he gets anxious when his order is messed up at a restaurant. Which is why you are so very helpful and take care of it for him, he doesn't want to bother others no matter what.

- Loves you no matter how you look, as long as you've got a nice and sweet personality and treat everyone fairly he has no complaints.

- Feels like he isn't deserving of you since his insecurities bite away at him after all those Name calling and pointing. So please, he needs a lot of reassurance and reminders as well.

#headcanons #haikyuu headcanons #haikyu #asahi azumane #asahi azumane x reader #asahi #Azumane #haikyuu asahi azumane #haikyuu asahi #haikyuu azumane #haikyuu ask #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu request

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unexpectedbrickattack · 1 year

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Drinking Buddies :)

#pizza tower #peppino spaghetti #pizza tower vigilante #gustavo #peppino #vigilante #alcohol #drinking #heehee giggly <3 #assume they were both waiting for their ride home dw <3 #pep can handle hard liquor and vigilante cant u_u #but both of them get so bad and silly as soon as they reach a buzzed state #im thinking of that cute album art for the ost that has peppino doing karaoke #hes just SCREAMING into the mic and vigilante is like waow....this tugs at somethin close in my soul.....#and vigilante just starts monologuing LOUDLY when hes wasted. Peppino is kept entertained by this :)#i forgot i wanted to do catty old men but old men being silly was all i could think of last night #get funky get sillay #also also i am looking back and rereading the comic for mistakes #and pep is just a very silly and affectionate drunk hes like #*crying softly* 'i love you....u deserve good things....*hugs them* *passes out in their arms*#when hes still buzzed but sobering up hes like pleasantly warm and vibin #hes throwing out ilu to anyone who will listen #'i told vigi i love u n g'night and he . and he he made. Cheese Bubble. :)'#'thats really nice peppino :)'#'AND I. gugh. I love u too Gus! and i. uhm *tugs at bricks fur* Brick :) and i love brick!'#'we love you too pep :)'#':) *passes out*'

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bylerisrequited · 11 months

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guys someone pointed out that the painting was probably an early birthday present for mike because will thought he wouldn't see mike on his bday 😭

also they pointed out that will said it was from el instead because he didn't want to draw attention to mike forgetting his birthday ...

#byler #stranger things #i need to be put Down oh god this is so sad #i just want to hug will so hard he deserves it :((#mike wheeler when i find u !$!

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kaiser1ns · 1 month

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I WAS PARTYING HAVING THE TIME OF MY LIFE WHEN KAISER HAD THE FIGHT FOR HIS LIFE

#IM NOT OKAY #PLEASE I EXPECTED EVERYTHING #THAT'S JUST AWFUL #im going to cry so hard #I WANT TO HUG HIM AND KISS HIM AND LOVE HIM #he deserves the world #i listened to barbie girl then one hour later i came home #TEARS BUT FROM PAIN #blue lock manga is going more crazy everyday

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sage-nebula · 6 months

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Martha didn't get a Tennant Doctor because she didn't want a Tennant Doctor. Martha was the only one of RTD's companions who left the Doctor of her own volition, and only ever called him back on her own terms, when she had need of him.

Rose didn't leave the Doctor willingly. Rose was trapped in an alternate universe because it was either that or be stuck in a void with Daleks and Cybermen for the rest of time. And when she returned (primarily to warn the Doctor about the oncoming darkness caused by Davros but also because she wanted to be with him), she left with the Metacrisis Tenth Doctor and their own TARDIS because that was the only way to give her a satisfying ending from the viewpoint of the audience. (And even then, there are some fans who will tell you that nothing short of her being with the Time Lord Doctor in the prime reality is satisfying, but that just couldn't happen for reasons outside the narrative story.)

Donna didn't leave the Doctor willingly. Donna absorbed all of the intelligence of a Time Lord into her human brain, and this was going to kill her. She had to have her memory erased and be kept away from anything alien for presumably forever or else the knowledge would return and literally kill her. Donna begged the Doctor not to wipe her memory anyway, because she would rather have died than give up that life. Just like Rose, Donna had planned on staying with the Doctor for the rest of her life.

This was not the case for Martha. Setting aside the fact that Martha was treated like garbage for the duration of her season from a writing standpoint, by the end of season three Martha has realized two things: 1.) that she is goddamn brilliant and never deserved to feel like she was second best, and 2.) that she doesn't want the Doctor anymore. Unlike Rose, Donna, and Captain Jack, Martha leaves the TARDIS of her own free will, to pursue her own life and career outside the Doctor. Even Sarah-Jane says in "School Reunion" that she waited for the Doctor to come back for her; she didn't want to leave, not permanently! But Martha did. She chose to step away. The only other companion to have done this during RTD's run is Mickey, so I guess Martha wasn't the only one; still, she's the only one of the primary companions, the three women, to want to leave. She made that choice herself.

Now, does that mean everything about Martha's ending was perfect? No. As much as the "Smith and Jones" wordplay of her ending with Mickey is amusing (get it, like her first episode), it makes no sense when you consider that she was engaged when she returned in season four, and yet we never hear of that fiance again. I mean, I guess it's fine since it's not like we ever saw him? But what happened there? Why was no thought given to Martha's story there? What was she doing with Mickey in an active war zone? Why no mention of her in these three specials even though, last we heard of her, she was working with UNIT in a really important position? I like Mel well enough, but why couldn't Martha have been there instead? Especially since Martha and Donna had a preexisting friendship, and would have been delighted to see each other again?

With that said though, she doesn't need a Tennant Doctor. She didn't want a Tennant Doctor. Frankly, Tennant's Doctor doesn't deserve her with the way he acted ("Rose would know" right to her face, like -- dude, I get it, you're grieving, but that's fucking rude and Rose would NOT approve you using her memory to make another woman feel bad about herself). Martha's character arc was about recognizing her own brilliance and her own worth; standing on her own two feet as a PROPER doctor, Doctor Martha Jones, walking the earth and saving the world without a TARDIS or Torchwood or a Time Lord brain. Just her own fucking determination and brilliance.

Rose and Donna got Tennant Doctors because that was the way to make their final send-offs satisfying. Rose and a Tennant Doctor got to be in love and happy together in a parallel world, which is fitting considering that they were in love and never wanted to leave each other. Donna and a Tennant Doctor get to be besties and happy together in this reality, so that RTD has a convenient excuse to pull Tennant back into a story if he ever wants to again (since it'd be hard to explain why Tentoo came over, versus having Fourteen right there) . . . but also because, like Rose, Donna never wanted to leave the Doctor, she wanted to be with him forever.

But Martha didn't want that. Martha left on her own accord. She left with a smile on her face and her cell phone on the TARDIS console, so that when she said "here boy!" the Doctor would listen. She left on her terms, with him at her call, only there when she has use for him.

And honestly? Good for her.

#like it was a fucking waste that we didn't see Martha at all in these specials #or even get a mention of her but like #she wouldn't WANT a Tennant Doctor. she was the only one of the 3 who left willingly!#(and honestly who can blame her like fr . . . the shit she put up with bc of him)#(the shit in the Family of Blood episodes gave her just cause to beat his ass into next week honestly)#(she hugs him at the end but honestly she should have beat his ass. just started swinging)#(how dare he do that to her? honestly?? i'm not talking about the love plot bit bc while that was ugh it's like #small potatoes to making her as a Black woman have to WORK IN SERVITUDE TO WHITE PEOPLE #and like the scene where he grabs her arm and throws her from the room? BITCH?????#GOD i'm mad again just THINKING about it #she should have beat his ass so hard he regenerated right then and there. AGH.#ANYWAY #Martha Jones deserved better but getting a Tennant Doctor is not better #not for her. it would be like a punishment honestly #she walked away from him and then you put his sad boy ass back on her doorstep?? hello??? no thank you #doctor who #martha jones #dw spoilers #this probably sounds like I hate Tennant's Doctor but I don't #I just hate how a lot of season 3 was written wrt how Martha was treated #like Martha having very legitimate concerns in the Shakespeare episode about being a Black woman in that time period #and Ten mocks her for being concerned like ???#ARGGGHGHHGHGHGHG #ABOUT TO FLING MYSELF INTO THE TV TO BEAT HIS ASS MYSELF ISTFG #A N Y W A Y

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