Summary: Desperately needing a relaxation day, the Reader is faced with her biggest fear, but don’t fret! Peter is there to save the day.
Word Count: 913 (sorry, it’s short)
Warnings: language, fears, spiders, razors, spa day, tears, fluff, and fluff, caring Peter, more fluff. (Let me know if I missed any).
A/N: Here’s part 2 of my Fears Series! I whipped this out so fast, I surprised myself. These fics are flying out left and right, guys. I cannot stop myself. I know this is short, but I didn’t really know how to make this very long, so hopefully this fulfills your Peter lovin’ needs! Enjoy reading and as always, feedback is appreciated. (p.s. can I have someone to kiss my nose like that pls holy frick ??)
At least once a week you’d try and dedicate a relaxation day for yourself after a hard week of being an Avenger and all.
This week, that day landed on Friday.
During this time, you usually wait to get home from school, a mission, or some other nonsense, to you begin your ritual.
After eating some delicious dinner Vision and Wanda had made for the whole team, you say your goodnights and headed off towards your quarters in the tower.
Making sure you prepared beforehand, you reach your bathroom with everything you needed sprawled out.
Face masks, body scrubs, hair masks, tweezers, nail polish, you name it.
By golly, you’ve been waiting for this day all week and you were definitely going to treat yourself, no matter what got in your way.
It’s selfish to want them both, Percy tells himself, in the thin hours of morning when he can’t sleep and sits at his work-table, taking his gun apart over and over as if he’s looking for secrets in its metal guts. It’s selfish, and it’s wrong, and they’re twins – tall and identical and perfect, all dark elegance and long, silky hair and a razor’s-edge of something feral and hungry and angry just beneath the surface.
He’s always liked sharp things, hungry things, things with teeth – and the twins are sharp all over, lined with teeth, in their own unique ways. He wants to stick his hand into the steel trap of their souls, just to see what it would feel like when they slammed shut around his wrist, what it would be like to be caught there. Trapped. A wild animal wounded by the bladed edges and honed points of their love, bleeding out in their arms.
The smoke curls around the soft insides of his chest, an over-affectionate cat, crawls up his throat until it chokes him, and he digs a thumbnail into the soft meat of his palm until it bleeds. Another mark to add to his collection. It’s selfish, and it’s wrong, and he knows that him and his guns and his smoke are bad news of the worst kind. They don’t need that in their lives, don’t want that in their lives – don’t deserve that in their lives. Don’t deserve him.
You’ve probably all heard about the awful shit that Tumblr user @sixpenceee has done, been doing, and will likely continue to do by now. If you haven’t, then I’ve created a small masterlist of awful things she has done.
Scenario: A chance encounter with a handsome stranger at a bar turns your life around in more ways than you could’ve imagined. A man with a dark past was always a dangerous thing. Jungkook!Fighter AU A/N: I was debating on whether or not I wanted to post this, but I figured I would. Maybe someone else out there might enjoy this too. Please send me a case of holy water for this shit I wrote. Genre: Jungkook x Reader Words:4883 Disclaimer: As always, the gifs used are not mine and belong to their rightful owners! Warnings: Mentions of violence. Smut.
The first night you’d met, you didn’t know what to think of him.
Jeon Jungkook was rough edges and feral. When he’d walked into the bar everyone, literally everyone, had stopped to watch his entrance. Captivated by the presence that left a promise of violence if anyone invaded his space without warrant. He was an electrical current that made the lonesome women in the bar swim to him; begging for him to be their shore.
Things I am 100000% not interested in right now: Discourse™ about how Elie Wiesel’s positions on Israel make his death Not Sad and True Progressives Can’t Be Sad Or Even Have Conflicting Feelings, courtesy of people who think regularly downplaying the Holocaust and/or making shitty anti-Semitic comparisons to it is Good Productive Activism.
If you can’t take five seconds to think about how you write about the death of a Holocaust survivor whose main historical legacy is “making people aware of just how awful the Holocaust was” and who is hugely important to Jewish communities, your activism is terrible. Any truly productive Palestine-liberation activism, anything that would actually change anything, would need to take into account Jewish people’s feelings and you are blatantly not doing it here.
Alot of littles get sweeped up by these cute, rich doms and think life is so great and wonderful……until they stop answering because the little stopped sending nudes.. Yeah FAKE DOMS we all have delt with some one time or another. Fake doms are dominates that say things to get with a little even if they arent true. so here are some tips to find out if you have a FAKE DOM.
1. If the dom is only interested in seeing your body aka nudes and throws a fit when you dont send them (threating to break up, saying your shit or calling you awful names) or begs when you say no. Its probably a fake dom
2. If they say their ‘rich’ right off from the start and start saying they’ll by you everything you want life gifts, big house ect. Its probably a fake dom
3. If alot of littles have said that they’ve been with them. its probably a fake dom.
4. If they start saying ‘i love you’ two days into the conversion probably a fake dom.
5. If they are to sexual. Such as telling you they want to bend you over and ect.. One day into talking. they’re probably a fake dom.
Well thats it for this post. Now im not saying all doms that do this are fake but here are some tail tell signs. Remember stay away from fake doms and look out for other littles. Also beware some doms who have multiple littles but thats a different post.
[Summary: The start of something new. When Commander Shrike Shepard was brought back from the dead by Cerberus, she shouldn’t have been woken so soon. Her healing isn’t complete, her body still struggling to knit bits and pieces back. Thrust back into the line of duty, how can she fill a gap of two years and reconcile her own mortality? And how can she even contemplate her own feelings for Garrus Vakarian at the same time? Comments/feedback GREATLY appreciated!
Though her world was one riddled with pain and exhaustion, Commander Shrike Shepard was unquestionably, brilliantly alive. Coming awake with a gasp, she felt every breath, a crackle in her lungs, but it was air and it was more than she had expected to feel again. Stumbling out of bed, she pulled on a tunic and pants and collapsed into her chair in front of her computer, scrolling through her emails with increasingly desperate clicks. So many cries for help, a few people reaching out to say they were glad she was alive, but none holding the message she wanted to see. No update on Garrus Vakarian, stuck in the Medbay. No word whatsoever.
“Commander Shepard, Jacob requests your presence for a meeting.” EDI was another thing for her to get used to. With a start, Shepard stood up and stretched. The pain might go away, Chakwas said, but it might not. They could only wait and see. Cerberus had never intended for Shepard to wake up so early, and definitely hadn’t intended for her to be up and running before some rigorous physical therapy. Everything that could have gone wrong did, but what choice did she have? Her whole life had been running and there wasn’t any time to stop now. Death had just been a roadblock and not a stopping point.
Rubbing an ache that had set deep into her neck and didn’t seem inclined to leave, Shepard stood again with a sigh. “EDI, if I knew coming back from the dead would mean so much paperwork, I never would have bothered.” A beat, a heavy silence, and “that was a joke, EDI.”
Leaving the safety of her cabin behind, she contemplated the meeting ahead of her. Jacob was affable, even likable, but he was Cerberus and she needed to remind herself of that. Something had driven him to join the organization in the first place, and given their often virulently pro-human leanings, she couldn’t trust him with the rest of her crew just yet, not when she had already brought together a couple of aliens and planned on bringing many more on board. Until she figured out what Jacob’s angle was, it was best to keep her distance.
At the same time, she owed Cerberus her life, such as it was. Broken, shattered, and brought back to soon, but it was life. Patting her customary bun to make sure it was still in place, Shepard entered the meeting room, still marveling how much the new Normandy felt like home already. All of this was incredibly dangerous, and she needed to keep on her toes, but it was so damn hard when all she wanted to do was take a long nap and hope to wake up to a world that made sense.
Nodding at her, Jacob launched right into his briefing, mostly concerned with the events on Omega and what they had learned. Most of the intel concerned the gangs that ran rampant, now much diminished and lacking firm leadership. It wasn’t the last of them though- not by a longshot. They would be back sooner or later, this just a temporary stopgap in their battle to continue ruling Omega as much as Aria allowed.
“Commander, we’ve done what we could for Garrus, but he took a bad hit.” It wasn’t exactly what she wanted to hear, though the sheer depth of how much it hurt to hear it surprised even Shepard. As far as she knew, she and Garrus were just friends- they had been close, before she had died, but this felt like something more, another complication that she didn’t have the time or the energy to deal with. She needed to focus on getting her own body to behave and heal without getting distracted, but something deep inside felt tight.
“The docs corrected with surgical procedures and some cybernetics,” Jacob continued, “Best we can tell, he’ll have some full functionality, but…” His voice trailed off, leaving her to fill in the gaps. Cerberus could work miracles for her, but they could only go so far for a turian.
Her face hurt; whether it was the scars or simply the effort of holding back emotion Shepard didn’t know. Rubbing the spot between her eyes, she was interrupted by a new voice joining their conversation, one flanged and deceptively casual. “Shepard.”
Garrus stood in the doorway, half of the upper part of his armor scorched and destroyed, his face held together with bandages and medigel, lending a sharp, astringent smell to the small room.
“You tough son of a bitch.” Jacob’s words reflected her own thoughts exactly, but she shot him a look. This was between her and Garrus now.
“Nobody would give me a mirror. How bad was it?” Was honesty always the best policy? With Garrus, it probably was, and shit, he looked awful. Probably not any better than she looked, but at least she didn’t have an obvious bits being held together.
Two truths and a lie. “Hell, Garrus. You were always ugly. Slap some face paint on there and no one will notice.”
He laughed, noise cut off with a choke of pain. “Damn it, don’t make me laugh. My face is barely holding together as it is.” A legitimate concern- how much muscle and skin connected a turian mandible to the rest of his face?
Their banter continued back and forth for a few minutes more. The scars wouldn’t be a bad look for him when he healed, but hell if she was going to admit that. Instead, she settled on, “If I’m walking into hell, I want someone I trust by my side.” There were things she found herself wanting to aside, quips and asides, but none of them were appropriate for the situation and for their relationship. Two years apart and she was expecting it to pick back up where it had left off, maybe even take that momentum to keep moving forward.
“So, uh… How was dying, Shepard?” His tone was falsely bright, arms crossed across his chest. A slow ooze of red had started across his bandages just from talking, his jaw moving too much.
“I say this with all due respect, but shut up, Garrus. That’s an order. Your face needs to heal.” She contemplated it for a moment; it was familiar, but now the entire topography had changed so much when he angled it even slightly. “There was nothing there. Just black. I don’t remember any of it. No bright light, no tunnel. Nothing.” It was like she had been asleep and then had come back awake, but… not the same at all. There were no dreams in death.
Garrus gave a lazy salute and nodded. “That’s a relief to hear, strange as it sounds. When I was bleeding out there, I expected more.” Shit, she really had nearly lost him.
“I gave an order, Vakarian.” Shaking his head at her, Garrus turned and left her alone with her thoughts.
Death, it seemed, couldn’t hold either of them back permanently.
btw Zelda is allowed to be emotional. She’s allowed to cry. Her and Link are scuffed up and dirty and look like they’ve been through hell in that crying scene. Think of nintendo’s track record; Zelda’s NEVER been portrayed as whiny. They very rarely utilize crying in LOZ–only heavy scenes, like Zelda sealing herself or Midna leaving. So if she’s reacting that way, some AWFUL shit has probably happened, and the proof of that is in her and Link’s condition.
she is NOT a wimp or whiny or a bad character for being emotional (like her country is literally falling apart is she supposed to look upon that with a smile or a straight face?? lol k). At the VERY LEAST wait until the game is out and you can see the context of that scene before making a judgement about her personality. Like damn.