#*the fact it's for Gween. . .*

[thatweirddolldude]

That's weird! Why did Alice and Lena bring up Gwen's money?

Does she brag about having money??? Does she brag about being a Bouchard??????? Are the Bouchards *that* famous??????? WHAT WAS THE NEPO BABY LINE ABOUT? Is she like an anti-nepo babie? Is her family hated??????????

The Bouchards are going to end up being a cult or smth. . .

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

Well well, this is interesting.

Now, correct me if I am wrong, but I had rewatched this part and I can't heard Gween saying that Pavitr is wrong. (Which makes sense because let's face it, she doesn't believe, neither does Pavitr, or the audience for that matter.)

But-

That line was added.

Now, I did an analysis about this scene ages ago, I will not repeat what I said there because is long but let's say the fact that they did those changes pleases me. It doesn't mean I am right but still.

(If you want to block this chain of posts, block the hashtag #screenplay react.)

[bunniesnuggie]

modern cg! ellie headcanons!!!!

ellie williams x fem little!reader

summary: just some quick long thoughts thrown together about my fav fictional lesbian as a (first time) caregiver, a little bit halloween themed

♡ ok so first of all, she had to be told, very directly matter of fact. she could literally find an adult pacifier and would think nothing of it, she wouldn’t question any gear or “strange” behaviour

ellie was frantically looking for her phone charger, she swore it was plugged in by the nightstand. she huffs looking under the wood not seeing the cord, so she starts pulling stuff out from under the bed. pulling out a box with stickers all over it and your name in puffy paint, she smiles at the cute box but continues on her search. opening the nightstand drawers she pulls out everything inside. she groans, still not finding it, you walk in just in time to hear her aggressive groan and see her gripping your favorite paci. you blankly stare not knowing what to say, but she just turns and asks “have you seen my charger? i cant find it anywhere” as she tosses the plastic guard back in and closes the drawer.

♡ so yeah, bby girl literally would not bat an eye at you if your regressed in front of her. you would have to tell her what’s happening and why if you want her involved more than just being there watching joining you color

“why are we watching this again? didn’t we just watch it like yesterday” ellie teases you about the cartoon you put on again, pulling out your favorite coloring book for you, you blush and ask if she wants it off. “i’m just teasing baby, i love hotel transylvania” she say’s seriously, poking your side to make you giggle. she hands you you’re coloring book and you sit watching the colorful but spooky cartoon. you start getting deep into your headspace, coloring with breaks to giggle at what’s on the tv. “mama hand me the gween pease” you ask, ellie immediately handing you the requested crayon without even looking up from her face page “here baby”

♡ neither of you notice the slip up right away, you realize once the crayon is in your hand. immediately freezing up, not daring to look at her. she notices your silence when you don’t laugh at a part that normally kills you

“you ok sweetheart?” she asks, putting her hand to your cheek, worried you don’t feel good. your face is solemn and you cheeks are hot. “do you not feel good?”, she makes you look at her, your teary eyes meeting her worried green ones. you sniffle and shake your head, “i called you…mama…” you trail looking away, murmuring towards the end, embarrassed and ashamed. “so?” she shrugs not understanding the problem “you can call me whatever you want, it don’t bug me none….” she tries to smile at you, not getting why you’re so upset. it’s definitely something you kind of have to spell out

♡but once she knows, she KNOWS, i’m talking child development books and parenting books. mama is ready for her role, even strongly encourages that you make a space in the house that’s little friendly. insisting you keep out your gear rather than hide it in the box under the bed

she watches you pulls out the box, sliding it across the floor and on front of the two of you. “this is my little box, it’s where i hide my gear, we’ll that’s not like my stuffies and stuff.. “ you say nervously, eyeing her and the box, waiting for her move. but she waits, smiling at you, “wanna show me your stuff bubs?” she asks excitedly, genuinely wanting to see. she decided that one little box is not enough and constantly buys you new gear, she even asks where your favorite shops are so she can order from them, asking if there’s anything you want in particular.

♡ she’s not super strict, she’s like a fun older sister. like she lets you eat candy and sweets with meals, stay up late to watch tv with her, rarely days no to you. only when it bites her im the butt does she go into mama mode. so if you get grumpy or snappy from lack of sleep and too ouch sugar, she starts to put limits on things

“baby” she sighs a bit, watching the goosebumps rise on your arms. she has you’re sweater in her hand and has been trying to get you to put it on, “please bun, can you put on your jacket? your gonna catch a cold” she begs, watching you scoop the guts from your pumpkin, the sticky orange goop up to your arms. your shake your head frowning, “gonna get da guts on it ..” you pout. ellie smiles and gestures to let her show you something. you put down the big metal spoon you’ve been using to scoop out the guts, letting ellie wipe your hands with baby wipes she the puts on your sweater. she rolls the baggy sleeves up past your elbow, leaving your arms exposed but zipping up the front. you grin, feeling warm and cozy and not having to worry about making a mess on your clothes.

♡ she loves being a caregiver, it have her a sense and of purpose. makes her feel important and needed, she thrives knowing that you trust her and only her in this special mind set and she will protect and cherish it with her life

you and ellie’s are sitting at the table; crayons, markers, glue sticks, scarp pieces of gelt scatter the surface. ellie is using the saftey scissors to cut out little white ghosts for you, the two of you doing little halloween crafts all day. there’s a knock on the door that interrupts us, ellie telling you to stay out while she answers it. she pulls open the heavy wood to reveal dina, our neighbor, who stands with a plate of cookies. she smiles and greets ellie, going to walk inside, being close enough with you two to be comfortable to invite herself in. normally this is fine, but ellie stops her, looking back at you at the table. biting her lip she shakes her head, “i’m sorry dina now’s not really a good time” she presses, lips tight, not letting anyone see you in your regressed state. she takes the cookies and thanks her before sending her off, bringing you the plate with a smile. “look baby, dina bright pumpkin cookies” you clap and squeal “yay cookie! mama tan i have one pease?” how could she ever say no?

a/n: hello everyone i am back, it took me like a week to finish this and it’s not even proofed lol. but anyways i’m glad to be back, i went through a pretty invasive surgery recently and it took a large toll on my life and daily routine but everything went well and all it fine :D anyway i hope to be posting more, i have a couple new characters i want to write about and some fun ideas. i’ll probably go through and do some requests soon though bc there’s a lot 🫠

tag list/

@bootlegmothman420 @angelbaby-fics @lil-baby-bat @stardancerluv @lulubooboo @albino-otaku @xxghostie-ghoulxx @stuckysgirl27 @sunshinee-bear

let me know if you want to be added/removed from my tag list ♡

[quinnysnursery]

"which one yous wan Nate?"

"owange!"

"...I wan owange :(("

"gween?"

"Matt playin wif dat one"

"I NO WAN PLAY." (he in fact dose wanna play."

HELPP😭😭 i feel like eventually their cg would set colors for them so if something is automatically green it’s nates, orange chris, etcetc

[blackcatarts]

can you vibe check assign me a cca character please 🥺

i think u would like luke :> not exclusively because gween but partially gween

my favorite fact abt him is that when he came out he picked the name luke EXCLUSIVELY because of star wars. he loves his boyfriend so much and he has gotten a total of 5 hours of sleep in the past year

[thewcllingtons]

Gwen is relieved knowing that he wasn;t upset with her over her fears. It would make any woman nervous if someone alluded that the man they've been with for half a decade wasn't in love with them or had doubts about them. Lincoln is the only person she wanted. If it didn't work out with him, it's safe to say that she would be at a loss. She wouldn't know what to do next. It's good she didn't have to go down that road. The fact that there would be a proposal at some point allowed her to relax a bit. ❝ Well, there's this unspoken rule for most women... If a man takes more than 2-3 years to propose, he's probably looking for someone else or waiting for his dream girl. I can sort of see it. I guess Amelia was under that impression and why she tried to use it against me. ❞ The explanation should further go to explain her panic. Gween put the ring on her finger. Looking at how the diamond would shine in the light. Lincoln must've spent a good chunk of money on this which was nice. She would've hated a cheap ring after all this time. ❝ Is this why you were working so hard for Silas? ❞ The idea of him working hard to buy this ring melted her heart. // @kiillerqueen

❝ Gwen , I promise that it is fine and that I don't hold anything against you. I can understand where your possible doubt could have set in. ❞ There is no denying that it is going to be on Lincoln's mind for awhile that he had ever allowed any possibly doubt of his love and life plan to be together. Yet he isn't going to take the complete blame when he knows that Amelia had something to do with planting the little seeds of doubt into Gwen's mind. From this moment on he knows that he is going to make sure that he makes it very well known not only to Gwen but everyone that the fem standing before him is the woman that he is going to end up spending the rest of his life with. Lincoln felt like he knew Gwen enough to know when she was in need of physical comfort from something that had been upsetting her. Her sobbing and grip that she had on him only proved his point to be correct. Glad that he had made the right call by bringing her body into his so that he could comfort her to the best of his ability. ❝ The first part of us being perfect for one another I can agree with , but the part about about me taking my sweet time doesn't sit right with me. I don't understand why everyone has to think there needs to be an exact certain amount of time to propose. I would much rather have taken my time to plan everything out to be perfect for you than to do something half ass like I just did. ❞ Lincoln can only hope that Gwen can understand where he is coming from with the reasoning of how long it has taken him if he hadn't just done what he did because he felt like it was what he needed to do in the moment. Lincoln can't help but laugh at Gwen's request , ❝ I mean the ring is your's baby. So of course you can wear it for as long as you want. ❞ Part of him had wanted to say that he hopes she never takes it off. //@thewcllingtons

[hell-is-a-place-on-moon]

SPIDERMAN NO WAY HOME SPOILERS

Probrably

A rant on Andrew garfield, cause yesterday I rambled for like a good half an hour at 2am so I think I have enough material to make a decent sized rant. Maybe

People are calling this new era the Andrew garfield Renaissance and I'm here for it.

However, one of my irl friends made the mistake of saying "oh, I dont understand why people are suddenly obcessed with him" and that prompted me, cause I got offended how dare he?

Now, have I watched the amazing Spiderman movies? Not yet. (I will tho)

Am I extremly biased on Andrew garfield cause i very much like remus lupin and have heard 30/90 probrably a bit too many times? Absolutly yes.

But here is my take on why we are in an Andrew garfield renaissance.

The man just fucking deserves it. He owned Spiderman no way home!

Out of the 2 extra Spiderman, I think we can all agree that Andrew was much more iconic in the movie than tobey. Now, I'm not hating on tobey, absolute legend, but he was just.... kinda there? I mean I love him for it but Andrew did such a great job!

He was the first out of the 2 to appear, he had that whole interaction with mj, the crawling on the ceiling thing, honestly in the lab he didn't do much but he wore a lab coat for absolutely no apparent reason (his suit gets trashed all the time he didn't need to wear the coat. But he did. And I love him for it), and then he cracked tobeys back, he had that whole "i love you guys" moment, the "I always wanted brothers", THE SAVING MJ, the apologizing for being black, THE PEACE SIGN!

Now tobey did have some moments, but he was just kinda there? He stopped Peter from killing the green goblin... he got stabbed... and thats as much of iconic that he did that I remember.

(Please take into consideration that I am increadibly biased on the matter, however in my 30min rant to my irl friend he did agree that tobey was just kinda there, not thats bad, slay king love u for it its more than enough)

So, we have that Andrew was really fucking iconic in the movie, so of course he'll get a lot of attention, now pair that with the fact that he never got a third movie with the amount of potential his Peter has? He could have a third movie and find his mj, he could be Eddie's venom Spiderman, he could be with Deadpool, the possibilities are endless, + the dude is just really attractive and from the clips I have seen from the amazing Spiderman? The man is just, 10/10 chefs kiss

Like, I've seen one clip where he's kissing gween and then a ball gets tossed in their direction. He catches the ball, fucking YEETS IT and then keeps kissing gween like nothing happened?? MAN? HOW CAN U NOT APPRECIATE THAT?

And there's also the fact that the actor is just really charming and charismatic and boom, Andrew garfield renaissance.

I rambled about this for like half an hour

Disclaimers:

- i had to Google renaissance and copy pasted it every time, I have no clue how to write that word alone, I tried

- if u caught any grammar errors? No u didn't, English isn't my first language fuck off

- i wanted to do the thing to like, not show the entire post but idk how to do that so if it didn't happen im sorry I tried

Have a nice day

[iflostreturntosteverogers]

I Promise

Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam, John, Azazel, Bobby (Mentioned), Callum (OMC Mentioned), Grace (OFC Mentioned)

Warnings: Weechesters, John’s an ass, Fluff, Angst, Character Death

A/N: Sam is about 3-4 years old and Dean around 7-8 years old in this. This is the longest fic I’ve ever written with 2,454 words. 

Header by: @sorenmarie87​

Beta’d by: @cloverhighfive and @mariekoukie6661

      No one raised your blood pressure like John Winchester. He was always such an arrogant prick when he dropped his boys off at your house. You kept Dean and Sam as a favor to Bobby, so he could keep John from doing something stupid and because you loved them. They needed some normalcy and love in their chaotic lives.

You had been mentally preparing yourself to deal with him after Bobby had called to tell you the boys were coming your way and just be ready because John was already in a mood. “A mood,” You snorted. “When isn’t he in a mood?” You made one last pass through the house, double-checking you had removed anything the boys could get in. You’d have to go to the store for food, but you didn’t mind taking them with you. They were good kids. 

John’s Impala rumbled down your street, making you groan. Here we go. You give him a moment to park before you open the door in and lean on the frame. “Hi, boys!” You smile and wave at Sam and Dean, climbing out of the car. Sam grins, and all but tackles your legs. “Hi, Ms. Y/N.” Dean smiles as he walks up with his bag over his shoulder. He grabs Sam’s hand and goes inside. You watch them race up the stairs to your bedroom. Probably to jump on your bed. You think to yourself. The trunk of the impala slams, startling you. 

“Princess.” John nods at you, a smirk on his lips. 

“Winchester.” 

“What? I don’t get a smile and peppy hello like my boys do?” He tosses Sam’s bag at you, chuckling as you almost miss it. 

“I like your children, you not so much,” you quip, pulling the strap over your shoulder. 

“I’m hurt, princess,” he says, placing his hand over his heart. “And here I thought you loved me. You’re always so warm and friendly.” You roll your eyes and flip him off. 

“Not your princess, Winchester.” 

“You sure do act like one.” John crosses his arms and leans against the impala, a smug look on his face.

“Excuse me?! What is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means you sit here in your cushy little house, living off your dead husband’s money and letting Bobby do all the dirty work in finding who killed him and your kid.” You push off the doorframe and stomp down the porch stairs to be face to face with the man. Without thinking, you slap him as hard as you can, the sound echoing. 

“First off, get your fucking facts straight! I never asked Bobby to do that. Second, I work my ass off to pay for my shit. I don’t need to forge credit cards or have aliases. Third, don’t you ever mention Callum and Grace. Ever. At least I learned to cope and live a normal life instead of dragging two young boys into the hunting business on a revenge mission. Get the hell off my property.” You don’t look at him as you turn and walk back into your house. Closing the door, you sink to the floor.

      “Having fun?” You grin as Sam and Dean freeze, pillows poised to hit each other. 

“We’re playing pirates,” Dean tells you, climbing down from your bed. “These are our swords!” His eyes are bright as he explains their game. The boys giggle when you tell them you’ll be the beautiful princess they’re fighting over. 

“You need a cwown, Pwincess Y/N,” Sam tells you. 

“You’re absolutely right, Captain Smelly Feet, and I think I have just the thing!” You walk over to your dresser, opening the locked jewelry box on top and revealing a sparkling tiara. You place it on your head and turn towards the boys. “What do you think?” Dean’s mouth drops open in shock. 

“Where did you get that?” 

“I got to be a princess for a day a long time ago, and they let me keep my crown.” 

“Cool!” Dean jumps back up on the bed. “The princess is mine, Smelly Feet! You can’t have her!” Sam screwed his face up into something that was probably supposed to be mean and scary but just looked adorable to you.

“Noooo! I’ll save you from Captain Gween Toes, Pwincess!” Sam wails Dean with a pillow. Dean pretends to fall on the mattress, holding his side.

“You’ve won this time, Smelly Feet. Remember me, Princess. Bleh.” You giggle at his fake death sound and turn to the 4-year-old standing proudly above his brother.

“You did it, Captain Smelly Feet. You defeated Green Toes and saved me. However, will I repay you?” Sam grins as you pick him up and swing him around. “Oh, I know! How about a kiss?” He squeals when you blow a raspberry against his cheek.

“‘Top! ‘Top!” Sam pushes your face away from his, giggling. 

“Well, I hate to stop all the fun, but we have to go to the store or we’re gonna starve to death.” You gently put Sam down and fall to the floor with your hand on your forehead. “So hungry, not gonna make it.” Dean laughs at your dramatics and whispers something to Sam. Sam nods with a mischievous grin on his face. 

“I’ll save you!” Sam yells, before jumping on top of you. 

      Sam tugs at your sleeve from the seat in the shopping cart, pulling you down to his level. “Bean likes bacon and eggs and waffles for bweakfast, but Dad never makes them for us. He just buys ceweal because it doesn’t have to be cooked.” You fight the urge to roll your eyes and say something nasty about their father. 

“You know what? I think eggs, bacon, and waffles are great for breakfast.” You right yourself and smile at the small boy. “What do we want for dinner? Dean, what’s something you want?” Dean looks a little startled at your question. Of course, John never asks what the boys want. It’s always a matter of convenience. 

“Can we do burgers?” His eyes light up when you nod your head, and he hugs your waist. “You’re the best.” 

       Sam sits on the counter, watching you teach Dean how to make burgers. “The first rule of cooking, wash your hands. Did you wash your hands?” 

“Yep, smell.” Dean smiles and holds his hands up to you. You lean in and sniff, the smell of Irish Spring prevalent on his hands. 

“Good job. Sammy, what about you?” Sam smiles and nods his head.

“I helped him,” Dean says proudly. 

“Okay, we’re going to make the sauce before we cook the burgers. I laid everything out for you while you washed your hands. The little cup is mayo and the measuring spoons have sriracha, honey, lemon juice, and garlic in them. Dump all that in and stir it up.” Stepping back, you watch as Dean dumps everything into the glass bowl you had set out before handing Sam the spoon to stir it up. 

“All done!” Sam shouts, tipping the bowl forward for you to inspect their work.

“That’s perfect! You can set that to the side until we finish the rest of it.” You bend down and pull a cast-iron skillet out of the cold oven. “This is your new best friend for cooking, boys. A cast-iron skillet. They’re heavy, and you have to take good care of them, but they will last a long time and give your food good flavor.” 

“And you can hit monsters with it and hurt them!” Dean pipes up, a proud smile on his face. 

“That’s right,” you return his smile, but the fact that he has to know that breaks your heart. Dean hops up onto the counter on your right, and Sam scoots closer on your left to watch. You turn the stove eye on medium-low heat and pour a small amount of oil into the pan. “We have to let the pan and oil heat up before we can start cooking.”  

      Dean’s eyes are huge as he watches you plate burgers. “They’re beautiful,” he mumbles. 

The boys hop off the counter and help you carry the plates to the table. Sam takes small, careful steps, his little tongue poking out as he concentrates. 

“As much as you love food, Dean, you should be a chef when you grow up.” Dean looks up at you curiously, like the thought had never crossed his mind. It probably hadn’t, all the kid knew was hunting. Damn John. 

“Do you really think I could be a chef?” 

“Of course, I do! You can be anything you want. You’re a smart little boy.” Dean blushes and takes a bite of his burger.

“This is so good! You were right; the fried egg and bacon make it even better than regular burgers!” 

“After we eat, do you guys wanna watch a movie? I have Scooby-Doo.” 

“YES!” The boys both yell excitement, making you laugh.

      You walk through the house, checking that everything is turned off and locked up. Sam had fallen asleep during their movie, and Dean hadn’t been far behind. You hadn’t wanted to disturb them when they looked so peaceful, so you let them stay in your bed for the night. 

As you make your way back upstairs, you hear glass shattering. “Shit,” you whisper, hurrying to the boys. They’re both still sound asleep. You shake Dean awake and pick Sam up from the bed. “Dean, listen to me, baby. You gotta come with me and be quiet, okay?” He nods, still rubbing at his eyes and trying to wake up. You can hear loud voices and footsteps coming from downstairs. You have to hurry. 

Leading Dean into the spare bedroom you pull a panel away from the wall of the closet. “Dean, go in there.” He follows your orders and you lay Sam down next to him, stroking his hair before you lean over and kiss Dean on the forehead. “You’ll be safe, I promise.”

“Don’t go, Y/N. Hide with us.” Dean’s eyes shine, his little voice trembling. It breaks your heart. 

“Baby, I can’t, that space is too small. Everything’s going to be okay. I love you, Dean and I love Sammy, too. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

Dean watches as you close the panel, leaving him and Sam in darkness. He can hear the voices coming from downstairs and each banging footstep sends a shiver through him. “Please be safe. Please be safe.” He whispers to himself over and over, a silent prayer for you. You hadn’t told him to watch out for Sammy, hadn’t ordered him to be brave. You told him how much you loved him and that everything would be okay. A tear slips down Dean’s cheek as he lays down next to Sam and closes his eyes tightly. 

      “Wanna tell me why you’re in my house?” You swing your arm around the first man you see, holding a knife to his throat. He freezes, calculating his next move. 

He slams all of his weight backward into a wall, knocking the breath out of you but you hang onto the knife. “Stupid bitch,” he spits at you and reaches up to wipe at a trickle of blood on his face. You must have cut him when you hit the wall. You take advantage of him being distracted and launch yourself into him. He stumbles back and falls on his ass, his head bouncing off the floor. You move past him only to be met with a gun to your face. 

“I don’t think so,” a familiar voice says, coming from around the corner. Your stomach drops when yellow eyes meet yours.

“Azazel.” 

“The one and only. It’s been a while, Y/N.” His smile is arrogant, taunting. “Look, I’m sorry about your old man and kid. More so about the kid. I needed her.” You ball your fists at your side, anger rippling through you. “I’m here because a little demon told me you had the Winchester brats.” 

“You’re too late actually. I put them on a bus to Sioux Falls a few hours ago.” You willed yourself to stay calm, to look him in the eyes, and give no indication of a lie. He growls and wraps his hand around your throat. 

“What a pity.” You scream as pain erupts through your body. Blood trickles down the side of your mouth. You defiantly spit in Azazel’s face. 

“Fuck you.”

       Dean hears your scream and slams his hands against his ears. “No, please no.” Sam rouses and mumbles your name. Dean pulls him into his lap. “Shh, we have to be quiet. Okay, Sammy? It’s going to be okay.” Sam whimpers but nods his head. 

They stay that way for a while, waiting for you to come back for them. Dean silently rocks Sam in his lap, occasionally humming a song to him in the dark crawl space. “You stay here. I’m going to look around.”

“No, Bean, don’t go!” Sam grabs onto Dean’s sleeve. 

“Sammy, stay here. I’ll be back. I swear.” Dean moves the heavy panel and crawls out, the light coming from the window making him squint. He listens at the top of the steps for the voice and footsteps from earlier, but all he hears is silence. The silence scares him more. 

He tiptoes down the stairs, peeking around the corner into the kitchen. You’re there on the floor, not moving. “Y/N?!” Dean shouts and races to you. His hands hover over you, unsure of what to do. “Y/N, please. You promised,” he chokes on the last word, a sob bubbling up. 

“Dean?” You rasp out his name and reach a weak hand up to his face. “It’s okay, baby.” 

“It’s not okay!” He shouts. You guide his head down to lay on your stomach and run your fingers through his hair. 

“You’re gonna grow up and do amazing things, Dean. You are so smart and so good. I love you so much.”  You wince as you try to breathe. Dean can hear how faint your pulse is becoming, how shallow your breaths are. 

“Please, don’t leave me, Y/N. Please,” Dean cries.

“Shh, baby, listen to me. Go in the library, the number for your dad’s motel is there. Call him and then take Sammy to my room and watch Scooby-Doo until he comes. I love you both, Dean so very much. Now go.” He crawls up and kisses your cheek. 

“We love you, too.” He does as he’s told, trying his best to get himself together. 

He dials the number you had written down in a notebook on your desk.

“Hello?”

“Dad? Something’s happened.”

Tags: @fictionalabyss, @leave-me-2-rot-among-the-flowers, @hobby27

[warriorlid14]

And the Dragon Goes Rawr

Summary:  Percy Weasley is six years old and ready to take care of his baby brother Ron. Molly disagrees.

Words: 2,789

You can also find it on AO3 and FFN.

Percy Weasley was a very smart and mature boy for his age. Which is why his big brother Charlie had entrusted him, and only him, with his favorite book about dragons: The Tales of the Dragon. And it was why he couldn’t let Ronnie get his hands on it. He was only two, after all, and even though he wouldn’t try to purposely destroy his brother’s prized possession, he was little and bound to accidentally rip it. Or so Percy thought, anyway. So he scooched all the way against the wall where Ronnie couldn’t reach him, as he was too small to climb onto the bed with him… Unless, of course, he pushed the chair against the bed and climbed onto that first, which he had been able to do for a month now. But Percy forgot about this as he turned page after page, each one containing an even bigger and more beautiful dragon than the last. Along with three facts about each dragon, which Percy was diligently memorizing, as it was sure to impress Charlie when he returned home.

“Perce,” a little voice called up to him (which sounded more like a combination of “purse” and “puss” than “Percy”), followed by tugging on his sheets.

“Go back to coloring, Ronnie,” he called back. Ronnie had almost burst into tears the third time Percy told him he couldn’t borrow Charlie’s book, but Percy had lent him a coloring book, and he had quickly become entertained (after Percy dutifully explained that he had color inside the lines, of course). 

Ronnie presumably did as he was told, but then two minutes later was tugging on his sheets once more. “Perce,” he said, more urgently this time. 

Percy, however, was too enthralled on the page about Hungarian horn-tailed dragons to notice. So he said, “I told you this is Charlie’s book. Go play with something else.”

“I gotta- I gotta-”

But whatever Ronnie had to do would remain unknown as he ran off to the other side of the room. Percy re-read the page about Hungarian horn-tails. They were Charlie’s favorite, after all. It was on his third re-read, however, that he noticed an all too familiar and not at all pleasant smell in the air. He immediately put his book down, and asked, “Ronnie, did you poop!?”

Little Ronnie was at the door and reaching up on his tippy toes to try to reach the door handle, to no avail. At his big brother’s question, he turned around and nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had to go potty?” Percy exclaimed. 

But Ronnie turned back to the door. “I want Mummy!” he exclaimed as he reached for the handle one more time.

Percy frowned. His mum would surely scold him. He was supposed to be watching over his little brother, and everyone knew that Ronnie was in the midst of potty training. But well… He looked guiltily at his book, then pouted. He was sure that it was not his fault; Ronnie should have told him he wanted to poop.

“Perce, help!” His baby brother sounded like he was close to tears, and Percy quickly stood up to help him. He grabbed his hand, and opened the door.

“Come on, Ronnie. Let’s go see Mummy.”

Molly, as it turned out, was hastily preparing dinner and finishing up their laundry before Arthur, Bill, and the twins came back from their trip to Diagon Alley, and before Charlie came back from his play date. It had taken longer to put little Ginny down than usual, as she had insisted on playing with her bottle and giggling at her mother’s attempts to feed her instead of drinking her bottle and going to sleep. And odds were that she would wake up at her usual time regardless.

So when Percy came into the kitchen and said, “Mummy, can you come with me?”, she barely looked up before saying “Mummy’s a little busy, dear. Is it an emergency?”

Percy opened his mouth to say yes, before taking in his mother’s frazzled appearance. He looked back at the living room where he had left Ronnie, who was on the floor, giggling at something he couldn’t see. He was suddenly hit with what he thought was his most genius idea all week and smiled. He was a big boy, after all. He was six and a half. He could help Ronnie and his mum.

“No, I got it,” he said quickly, then turned back to Ronnie.

“That’s nice, dear. Take Ron with you,” Molly called after him, clearly not having registered his response.

Little Ron was partaking in his favorite pastime: running into the magical barrier that led to the stairwell as fast as his little legs would let him, and then laughing hysterically as it caught him and gently pushed him back to the floor. The barrier had been put up for all of the children. It didn’t allow them to go up or down the stairwell on their own before a certain age, lest they hurt themselves or try to wander around the house in the middle of the night. That age was typically four, but Molly and Arthur had decided to keep the charm on for the twins for another year. Maybe two. 

“Come on, Ronnie,” Percy said, grabbing onto his little hand again.

“No!” Ron exclaimed, and he immediately tried to pull away. It seemed he wasn’t done playing with the magical barrier. Left to his own devices, Ronnie could play with that barrier for hours (a fact that his parents would capitalize on more often than they’d like to admit). It was a protective, magical barrier after all, and no matter how hard he ran towards it, it wouldn’t hurt him. 

“C’mon, Ronnie. We have to change your nappy.”

At the reminder that his nappy was currently uncomfortably full, Ron once again took his older brother’s hand who then led him through the barrier and up the stairs to his parents’ room. Percy immediately headed towards the drawer where his mum kept the nappies and wipes. He’d seen her change his siblings nappies’ plenty of times, and had even assisted sometimes. And she had even let Bill change a nappy on his own. He was sure he could manage all on his own. He was a big boy after all, and he was very mature for his age.

“Okay, Ronnie, you have to get onto the bed,” Percy said in a commanding voice.

Ronnie nodded and immediately jumped towards the bed. He put his little hands at the edge of the bed and tried and failed to hoist his little body up onto the bed. “Help, please,” he said, looking up at Percy.

Percy picked up his legs with a grunt and pushed him onto the bed. “You’re heavy,” he complained. 

But Ron paid him no mind, instead glancing at the door with a confused expression. “Mum-”

“I’m going to change your nappy right now,” Percy interrupted. Ronnie didn’t look convinced, though, and looked back at the door with a concerned expression. “And then we can go back to my room and color your dragon, okay?”

That caught Ronnie’s attention, and he immediately laid back obediently while Percy determinately set to work. He took out one Ron’s nappies from the drawer and a packet of wipes. He thought to himself that his mum would be very proud of him, taking care of Ronnie all on his own. She’d probably tell him that he was a great big brother, too. And maybe he could go down to the pond on his own now!

All thoughts of his mum, though, were immediately cut short when Percy caught sight of what was inside the nappy. “Ewww, Ronnie you stink!” He pinched his nose and took a step back.

Ronnie, thinking this was hilarious, giggled and said, “No, you stink!”

“No, you stink, Ronnie!” Percy said, taking another step back.

“No, you stink!” Ronnie said with a grin, and began to sit up to look at his brother.

“No, don’t move! You’re going to get everything dirty!” Percy exclaimed. But it was too late, and Percy looked at the mess in horror. “You got poop all over the bed!” 

“No, you poopooed on the bed!”

“No, I didn’t! You’re the one who pooped in your nappy!” Percy cried. 

Ronnie, still thinking they were playing, giggled and said, “No, you poopooed in your nappy!” 

“That’s not true! I don’t wear a nappy!” Percy was growing louder by the minute and his cheeks were turning red. “I’m not a baby! You did it!” 

“No, you poopooed in your nappy! You poopooed in your nappy!” Ron exclaimed excitedly.

But Percy, reminded of the times Fred and George danced around him singing  “poopy-head, poopy-head”, angrily yelled, “That’s not true! Stop lying, Ronnie! I didn’t poop in my nappy! You did! And I’m telling mummy, and I’m not lending you my coloring book anymore!”

Ronnie’s face fell, and his eyes instantly welled up with tears. Percy immediately felt guilty. Ronnie was only two, after all. He was still a baby. He was only playing. And he wasn’t the twins.

“No, don’t cry, Ronnie,” Percy said, and leaned over to pat his little brother on the head. But that only resulted in a loud sniff. 

“I’m sorry. We can go play after we’re done, okay?” Ronnie sniffed again, and tears fell down his cheeks. Percy began to panic.

“We can read Charlie’s book! You wanted to read it! It’s about dragons! You like dragons, right?”

Ronnie nodded slowly. 

“And- and I can show you the pictures of all the dragons. And teach you about the Hungarian horn-tail. And we can draw the dragons afterwards! Do you like that?”

“Yes,” Ronnie said, but there were still tears in his eyes. 

“And um- um-” Percy tried to remember what his parents said to make Ronnie laugh. “What color are dragons, Ronnie?”

“Gween,” Ronnie said.

“That’s right!” Percy explained. “And how do dragons go?”

“Raaaaawr!” Ronnie said with a smile.

“Yes!” Percy said proudly. “I’m going to clean you up now, okay?”

“‘Kay.”

Percy pulled out six wipes to clean his little brother up and bunched them up in a ball. He determinately set to work. All the while he kept asking him questions to cheer him up.

“What color is the sky, Ron?” Percy asked while he grabbed another two wipes.

“Blue!”

“And what color are the clouds?” Percy asked while he grabbed another two wipes.

“White!”

“Yes, but sometimes they’re also grey. Like when they’re cumulon- cumuloni- When they have a lot of rain in them, they’re grey. And what color is Gryffindor?” Percy asked while he grabbed another two wipes.

“Wed!”

“And?”

“Jello!”

“Well, it’s actually gold. And how does the Gryffindor lion go?” Percy asked as he threw the dirty wipes in the trash can.

“Raaaaawr!” Little Ron clapped as Percy finished up changing his nappy.

“That’s right! We’re all done!” Percy exclaimed, and helped Ronnie off the bed. Then he proceeded to use ten wipes to clean the mess that had been left on the bed. “Let’s go back to my room. Do you still want to read Charlie’s book?”

“Yes!” Ronnie exclaimed, grabbing Percy from the hand and pulling him towards the door.

And that’s how Molly found them. Sitting on Percy’s bed, with Percy holding the book in front of them. Molly smiled at the serious expression on Percy’s face as he loudly read from the book, and at Ronnie’s look of wonder as he stared in rapt attention at the pictures in front of him. Her smile grew when she noticed that Percy had one arm wrapped around his baby brother in a protective hug. It was times like these she regretted not having a camera on her at all times.

“How are my boys doing?” she asked fondly. 

“Good! I’m teaching Ronnie about dragons!” Percy exclaimed excitedly.

“You are? And are you learning a lot, Ronnie?”

Her baby boy beamed up at her in a way that caused her heart to melt and nodded furiously. “Look at the dwagons, Mummy!”

“Yes, I see them on the cover. And what color are the dragons, baby?”

“Gween!” he said excitedly.

“That’s right!” she said proudly. “You’re so smart. And how do dragons go?”

He took a deep breath, presumably to let out the deepest growl he could, and yelled “Raaaaaawr!”

… And immediately a small stream of fire erupted from his mouth, and the book caught on fire. 

Percy let out a screech and threw the book to the other side of the bed. Molly reacted instantly, whipping out her wand and casting a silent aguameni before the sheets caught on fire. Ron, completely unaware of the dangerous situation he had unintentionally caused, laughed wildly, yelling, “I’m a dwagon!”

Molly rushed to her boys, and swept them up in her arms, pulling them off the bed and away from the still-smoking book. “Are you boys okay?” she yelled as she put them down, frantically looking them over and checking for any burn marks, thankfully finding none.

“Ronnie breathed fire!” Percy yelled in an accusatory tone, pointing at his little brother. Ronnie, finally catching the tone in the room and at the expression on his mother and brother’s faces, immediately looked frightened.

A small part of her, the part that was still running on adrenaline and frightened and still tired from the day’s work, wanted to yell at Ron to never do that again. But one look at her baby’s tear-filled eyes, and that instinct washed away. Instead she pulled them both against her in a hug.

“It was an accident, love,” she said. “It’s accidental magic. Like when you turned Scabbers yellow without meaning to, remember?” Though it had been a while since such magic had frightened her as much. The last time was when the twins were three and apparated themselves onto the roof of the house (and then ran all over it, trying to evade capture). It was just their luck that little Ron might share their love for chaos. 

Percy nodded. “But Charlie’s book is ruined now!”

“It’s okay. We can get him another one.” Though she thought that it would probably have to wait until Arthur’s next paycheck. It was amazing how fast two babies could eat up their finances. Hopefully Charlie wouldn’t be too upset.

“But I don’t have a book to read now,” Percy said with a pout. 

“Well, we can read another one. I have a few up in my room. You can choose one, Percy.”

“About dwagons?” Ron asked hopefully.

“No more dragons,” Molly snapped. Then her voice softened, and she said, “I think I have the one about fairies. Come on, boys. Let’s go up to my room.”

She picked Ronnie up to carry him up the stairs, and stopped when she caught a whiff of a familiar odor. “Ronnie, did you poop?” she said, turning him around to check his nappy.

“Again?” Percy exclaimed. “Ronnie, you poop a lot!”

Molly stopped and looked at Percy. “What do you mean again?”

Percy’s face broke into a wide smile. “He pooped earlier, and I changed his nappy, Mummy! I did it all on my own! Like a big boy!”

She lifted Ronnie’s shirt up and checked his nappy dreading what she’d find. Sure enough, it was obvious a six year-old had changed her baby.

She closed her eyes to calm herself. She was not going to yell. She was absolutely not going to yell. Instead, she was going to be glad that she raised a wonderful boy who loved to help his younger siblings. 

In that moment, she truly envied her husband’s calm demeanor and seemingly endless patience.

“Well, it looks like he pooped again,” she lied. “Do you want to help me change him?”

Percy nodded and raced up the stairs to her room. She followed behind, dreading the mess she would find, and knowing that she’d have to wash her sheets. Sure enough, when she got to her room, she was met with funky smelling sheets and a trash bin overflowing with what looked to be an entire packet of wipes. 

A successful nappy change and change of sheets later, she tiredly suggested a nap instead of story time. Thankfully, the boys were worn out by the day’s events and they didn’t put up much of a fuss. Molly laid down next to them with a sigh, and hoped that she could get at least half an hour’s worth of sleep before Arthur and the boys returned.

Ten minutes later, Ginny woke up with a large cry, announcing to the world that she was in urgent need of attention.

[zarinaa113]

DT Ficlet- Big Brother

Daycare ended at three. The toddlers were picked up by their parents by three thirty. It was four and Uncle Donald hadn't come back.

The teacher let the boys play with toy cars on a mat while she cleaned the playground out the door, reasonably sure they wouldn't cause much trouble that way. Dewey and Louie were running green and blue cars in circles, Huey preferred to put the other cars in piles according to color. Every few seconds Dewey would make exploding sounds with his mouth, par for the course for him. Huey was so used to it that he didn't notice when it stopped. He did notice when be heard sniffling. Concern worrying his brow, he crawled to his brothers, both sitting on the ground trying not to cry loudly. "Wa's wong, Dewey? Wa's wong Louie?" "I-I mm-iss Unca-a Donald!" "I wan Uncaa!" "Unca!" Tears unleashed, the boys cried hard. At such a young age, none of them had yet to fully grasp time's passage. Unca hadn't come when the others left, that meant they must've been left here for hours. Suddenly made aware of this development, Huey felt a lump hurting his throat, but his heart hurt more. Reaching for his brothers shoulders he tried to pat them like how Unca did when they were sad. "'Is okay." He tried to be reassuring. "Is not!" "Unca's gone!" "We awone!" They cried harder. Huey couldn't argue with the facts. This wasn't working, he pulled his hands back. Dewey kicked at the mat, hitting a toy car, causing it to roll into Louie's green blankey. Without thinking, Huey grabbed it and wrapped it over Louie's shoulders, keeping his arms there. "We're no awone. We've got me and you and you." He gave each brother a pat. Louie grabbed Huey's shirt in a damp fist. "Don' go way, Huwey." Dewey reached around Huey in a hug, grabbing a corner of the blankey. "I don' wanna be awone." Huey protectively wrapped his brothers in his tiny arms. "I'm no going way. Ever. I pwomise. I love yous." "I love you Huwey." "I love you too, Huey." Squeezing tight, he gave his brothers kisses on their heads, feeling them shake with tears. His own slid out, cool and calming. It felt good and bad to have his brothers clinging to him. Huddled tightly they didn't notice that someone had entered the room. Not until they were all picked up at once in a hug no one else could give. "UNCA!!!" In unison their crying ceased, they wiggled in his arms, hugging him with tiny hands, smiling and nuzzling his bowtie. "Hi boys! Everything okay?" "We missed you!" "Why you go?" "Wha' happen?" Wiping away their tears with Louie's blanket, Donald smiled. "I had to go to the store first to get you new car seats, remember?" "Oh, yeah." "We so big!" "That's right. You don't fit in the old ones anymore cause you got so big!" "We super big!" "Super. It took a while cause I had to get the right colors." Existing the daycare, he set the boys down, unlocking the car door they scrambled to see their new seats. "I wan da blue one!" "I wan red! "Gween! Gween!" "Good choices." Scooping up Dewey, he was placed in the blue middle car seat, bouncing excitedly. "Hold still please Dewey, you can bounce when I'm done." Dewey giggled as he was tickled, calming down for as long as it took the buttons to click. He buckled Louie in then Huey. And on their way home they started. "You like your new car seats boys?" "Yes Unca Donald." They chorused. "Good. Now, why were you crying when I came in to daycare? Did Dewey kick one of you again?" "Uh-uh." Dewey shook his head vehemently. "We were sad." Huey clarified. "We missed you. You didn't come." Louie said from under his blanky, wrapped around his head. "Aw, I'm sorry boys. I wasn't supposed to be late. But it's okay, I'm here now. We're going home." "'Is was okay." Huey shrugged. "Huey helped us." Dewey kicked his legs out. "Huey made us better." Louie looked past Dewey at Huey. “He gave us hugs.”

"Aw, that's sweet. You were a good big brother?" Donald looked at Huey in the rearview mirror. "Yeah!" "That's so nice. I always try to be a good big brother to your mommy. I made sure she didn't get sad or mad or...hurt." Huey smiled. "I wanna be wike you Unca. I wanna be a good big brother. The best big brother!" "You already are the best big brother."

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

@hueyweek2020

My fisrt time finishing a ficlet in a single day! First time finishing something I wrote the same day I started it actually. I hope its good as I wrote it while on break in the daycare I just started work in. I was inspired as you can see. Which means you’ll be getting a lot more DT Toddler fics from me. Oh the agony.

[bluefire12348]

Jen 10 au

(this is a small scenario in my Jen 10 Dimension) (in this world Kevin and the rooters are still bad guys who have been going after Jen since she was 10, Gwen and Jen are plumber partners and are good friends. yes Gwevin is still going to happen in this Dimension,  This is just going to give you guys a view of Jen’s dimension. I might write some more, depends on what you guys think)

  It was supposed to be a nice quiet day. Jen was on her way to work at Mr.Smoothies. She parked her car on the sidewalk trying to make sure she doesn’t take up to much space. When she was satisfied with her parking she stepped out of the car then grabbed her Mr. Smoothies apron and hat. 

  Closing the door, she walked up to the back door of the building. “Jen!” before she could step into the building she heard a familiar voice from behind her. Turning around, she spots her partner and good friend Gwen running up behind her. Gwen reaches up to her panting. “The Rooters are after you” she said panting.  Jen gave her a puzzling look, “umm yeah they have been since i was ten”. She gave Gwen a deadpan look. Gwen grabbed her shoulder “They are sending Kevin and the Amalgam kids.” Jen still didn’t look worried.

 She moves Gwen’s hands off her shoulders, “Gwen it’s fine, i can handle Kevin and his gang”. She said while holding up her Omnitrix and opening up the back door to the building. Gwen glares at her and sighs “fine, but I’m going to stay close in case you run into trouble” Gwen says while putting her hands on her hips. Jen rolls her eyes and walks inside the building.

  Gwen groans and walks to Jen’s car. She unlocks the front door with her spare key Jen gave her. She climbs in the front seat and shuts the door. She opens up the glove compartment and pulls out an old spell book she stole from Hex. As soon she opens they book she doesn’t notice a blue car pulling up in front of Jen’s car. 

 In the front seats was Kevin and Pierce, and in the back was Alan and Helen. Kevin pulls out an ID mask and puts it on his face. His skin turns into a light tan and his hair turns short blonde while his eyes become a dark blue. He looks into his rear view mirror and sees Gwen in the driver seat of the car behind them reading a book. Alan looks behind in the back window and notices what Kevin is looking at. “Hey, Kevin it’s your girlfriend” He mocked. Kevin turns his head and gives Alan a cold glare. “she is not my girlfriend” Kevin said in a dark tone. Alan chuckles a bit “I’m sorry Kev, but I can’t take you seriously when you look like that.” Helen joins in on Alan’s chuckling. 

 Kevin groans and looks back into the rear view mirror staring at the unknowing plumber. “Keep an eye on her while I go capture Jen” Kevin said while turning off his car and unlocking his door. “if she notices something or tries anything, you know what to do” He said while climbing out “Don’t worry Kevin, we’ll keep a good eye on your girlfriend” Helen teased while Alan tried to keep in his laughter. Kevin groaned and rolled his eyes “she is not my girlfriend” The he shut the door. He glanced back at Gwen one more time before walking towards the Mr. Smoothies building.

 Jen hands the Customers drink and food to them “have a great day”. Jen sighs as the customer leaves. She looks outside at the window were Gwen was reader her magic book. Somebody walks up to the her and she puts on her best fake happy face. “Hi, Welcome to Mr.Smoothies, Would you like to try our Blue-Strawberry Special. We have for only a limited time. How can I Help you today?” she said in a very cheerful voice. She looks at the face that she has never seen before. She notice the stranger gave a weird smile that almost seemed familiar. “Yeah, I would like to take your Omnittrix to go please”. Jen stares at the stranger in confusion and narrows her eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t Quite get that, would you say that again?” she said notice the strangers hand started to become the same matter as the table. “Sure, I said i would like to have your Omnitrix to go please” He said now staring into her eyes. “and i would also like for you to give up to the rooters.” As soon as he said that Jen presses the button under the table, making an alarm go off so that the people would get out in time.

 Gwen hears the Alarms and so did the Amalgam kids. Gwen puts down her book and jumps out of Jen’s car. She start to run to the building till she feels a fast force push her down and land on her. “Sorry Gwen,it’s nothing personal, but can’t let you ruin this mission” Helen said while pinning Gwen’s arms behind her back. Gwen blast a ball on energy at Helen, pushing her off. Gwen gets up and runs shouting at Helen “Sorry, nothing personal” and runs off to help Jen.

 Kevin burst through the wall, almost landing on Gwen, his ID mask broke. Jen steps out in her luchadora tetramand form.”esto está saliendo de mi cheque de pago” She said in Spanish, which in her tetramand form she can only speak spanish. Glaceing at Gwen she notice Manny charging at them. “Gwen mira!” she said while punching the small tetramand hybrid in the face. Manny Tries to punch back but Jen catches all four of them and throws him through the whole in the wall.

“escucha, no estoy de humor para ser secuestrado hoy Kevin“ Jen said while lifting Kevin up and dropping him down, “golpear a alguien a través de la pared podría hacer que me despidan“ she continued. Kevin looked up at her in confusion “you know when your in that form I don’t understand a word you say” he explained hoping to get her guard down. Jen hits the omnitrix on her chess making her transform back into her original form. “I said, punching someone through the wall could get me fired”. she explained again but this time in English. Kevin smirked and looked up at her (he was sitting on the ground) “well you wont have to worry about that pretty soon” Kevin said while glancing behind her. Jen has a look of confusion on her face till she turned around to see what Kevin was looking at, But it was too late, when she turned around pierce shot a quill at her arm, knocking her out instantly. She falls into Manny’s arms and he holds her up.

 “JEN” Gwen yells as she sees them capture her partner. When Jen was busy dealing with Kevin, Manny, and Pierce. She was fighting Helen and Alan. Gwen put a force field between her, Helen and Alan then pushed them away from her. She turned to the other three keeping a knocked out Jen hostage. “let her go” Gwen said in a dark tone. Kevin smirked “Sorry, but kinda need her” he said walking up to Gwen. 

The piles of bricks and other stuff from the wreckage started to float around Gwen, “Let. Her. Go. Kevin” She said through gritted teeth. Kevin started to notice the floating objects but decided to ignore. Gwen’s eyes glow pink. 

“Kevin i am giving one last warning, let her go” 

Kevin and Gwen both stand still. Suddenly Kevin absorbed the concrete from he ground and started to charge after her. Gwen changed into her anodite form and used a force field to push Kevin back. Kevin lands on his back. Gwen flys down to him and puts her face inches in front of his “LET. HER.GO” Gwen shouts in his face. Kevin has a slght look of fear till it was replaced by anger. he glares at Gwen the snaps his figures. 

Manny and Pietce look at each other then Manny gently puts down a now waking up Jen. Jen sits up “What happened?” she asked looking around. Now noticing an Anodite Gwen hovering over Kevin. She soon starts to remember what is happening and quickly get up and backs away from Manny and Pierce. 

Her hand overs over the omnitrix “back off” she said while choosing an alien. She slams her hand down on the omnitrix and her body streches and morphs into her Kineceleran form. Noticing Kevin was going to grab Gween The screen goes down and she races of to get Gwen. Moving Gwen away from Kevin. “Sorry, but her was going to adsorb your mana” She said in her now scratchy, higher voice. “Thanks” Gwen said looking away. 

Suddenly a fog surrounds them. Jen puts down her face shield then grabs Gwen. Moving them both out of the fog and into clear air. As soon they were in the clear the Amalgam kids were gone. 

The omnitrix times out and Jen transforms back into her normal form. “Were do you think they went?” Jen asked looking at Gwen “I don’t know” Gwen said while turning back into her human form. 

“Thanks for helping me though” Jen looked at Gwen. Gwen doesn’t look back “Your my friend and partner, its my job to look after you” Gwen looks back and smiles. 

“but why were you in your anodite form? I know for a fact you could’ve taken care of them without using your full power-” Jen then suddenly relized something and smirk “or is it only Kevin that can a rise out of you like that” She said teasing Gwen.

Gwen’s face turns red and she pushes Jen away from her “no, i just overreacted was all” She said looking away. Jen shrugs her shoulders and walks away to talk to her boss about the giant whole in the wall.

Translations (please note, I used google translate for these. so they are not exact translations)

“esto está saliendo de mi cheque de pago“

“this is coming off my paycheck“

“Gwen mira”

“Gwen look out”

“escucha, no estoy de humor para ser secuestrado hoy Kevin“

“Listen I'm not in the mood to get kidnapped today Kevin”

“golpear a alguien a través de la pared podría hacer que me despidan“

“hitting someone through the wall could get me fired"

[blooddrinkingbartender]

Of Mer and Men | Elder Scrolls Verse

I finally caved and made an Elder Scrolls verse for my lads on here. You’ll find all their profiles beneath the cut (if there is one.) I took a bit of creative liberty with the vampires in this as well, I hope that’s all right. 

Bilmae ‘Bill’ Golden-Smith 

Name: Bilmae ‘Bill’ Golden-Smith  

Age: Appears 31, but is over 800 in reality  

Birthday: 7th of Evening Star

Gender: Cis Male (he/him/his pronouns) 

Powers and Abilities: Resistance to disease, resistance to poison, harder to detect while sneaking, and illusion spells are more powerful than average, resistance to frost. Shadow abilities; creating tentacles made out of shadows, usually to grab/restrain an opponent, or do things like snap limbs. He can also leap an abnormally long distance and summon an orb of shadow that explodes into spikes. Battle Cry (Nord Ability) and a higher resistance to frost because of his Nord Heritage as well as his vampirism. 

Weaknesses: Fire, sunlight.

Sexual Orientation: Pansexual.

Race: Nord/Vampire

Faction: None (at the moment)

Current Residence: No fixed place of residence, wanders Tamriel. 

Mother: Gweene Golden-Smith (Deceased)

Father: Bilmae Golden-Smith. (Deceased) 

Height: 6’3" 

Weight: 200lbs 

Body Type: Mesomorph/Muscular 

Hair: Red, as is his beard. 

Eyes: Grey.

Skin: White 

Languages: Tamrielic, some of the Dragon Language, and Ayleidoon.

Distinguishing features: He has major burn scars on the right side of his abdomen, chest, part of his right arm, and just above his butt. A hunter managed to set him on fire. Luckily, before it could kill him, he managed to put himself out. That Hunter paid with her life.

If he doesn’t drink blood for a long time, he starts to age and look more monstrous/corpse-like. Drinking blood reverses this effect.

He has three scars on his chest that are either from arrows or crossbow bolts. They’re all under his left pec muscle. 

He has a birthmark on the back of his left hand that’s shaped like a crescent. He often jokes that it’s because one of his ancestors was a werewolf. 

Hobbies and Interests: Dancing, astronomy (might as well enjoy the stars if you’re nocturnal), origami, drawing, mythology (he has met some figures of myth, or so he claims), and smithing. He’s also pretty good at playing the lyre, the ocarina, and the accordion.

Occupation: No set occupation.

Skills: Smithing, Sneak, One-Handed Weapons, Illusion Magic, Light Armour, and Alteration 

Personality: He’s friendly, he’s confident, and he can be rather eccentric at times. He’s far from shy and he enjoys the company of others. He lives to entertain, laugh, spread laughter and merriment, and give and get validation.

However, he can come across as conceited, arrogant, a show-off, a bit of a large ham at times, and/or a little bit too full-on for some people. That said, he honestly doesn’t mean harm (not anymore at least) and if you’re his friend, he will kill for you and do what he can to keep you happy.

He’s usually quite hard to anger. He can laugh off most insults or even attempts to hurt him physically. However, if you do make him mad, it’s your funeral, or at least your mind’s. He does try to keep himself in check however. He has no plans to go back to the sadistic bastard that he used to be.

Basic Backstory: Starting out his life in Skyrim, Lord Bilmae Golden-Smith IV was the only survivor of the eleven children his parents gave birth to. His father was a lord and his mother was a blacksmith’s daughter who was married into the family.

Bilmae lived a fairly easy and unremarkable life with his loving mother, not-so-loving father, and a few servants. His father made sure he worked hard however, not wanting to hand him everything on a silver plate. That said, he was fairly well off, and spent his childhood and adult years getting ready to take on his father’s estate. On finding out his bloodline’s wealth and notoriety was founded on thievery, murder, extortion, and other crimes, he was not so willing to do so, but he was unsure of how to find a way out of it. 

However, at the age of 31 years old, he contracted Sanguinare Vampiris. He was infected on purpose, by a vampire who had lost his family to Bilmae’s legacy. Bilmae managed to hide the condition from his family, and when his parents died, dismissed his servants, left the estate to his distant cousins, and faked his death before going to wander.

He continues to travel around now, learning new things and trying new stuff to keep himself busy. He still drinks blood to sustain himself but he doesn’t kill unless it was someone he felt ‘deserved it’. He also kept up with all the changes in the world. He even adapted his speech as needed, keeping up with slang and staying savvy with the times.

Antonio Lombardi

Name: Antonio Lombardi (formerly Enriquo Giordano, as far as you’re concerned) 

Age: 38

Birthday: 8th of Last Seed 

Gender: Trans Male (he/him/his pronouns) 

Powers and Abilities: .Dragonskin ability to absorb magic. Natural higher resistance to magic. 

Sexual Orientation: Homosexual 

Race: Breton

Faction: College of Winterhold (sort of)

Current Residence: Has a home in High Rock, but travels.

Mother: Gertrude Giordano

Father: Benito Giordano

Siblings: Emily Giordano(Older sister) and Sophia Giordano (Younger sister)

Height: 6’2" 

Weight: 170lbs 

Body Type: Ectomorph

Hair: Black, shoulder-length, and slightly curly 

Eyes: Green.

Skin: Light brown 

Languages: Tamrielic, and some of the dragon language.

Distinguishing features: A benign mole underneath his left eye, and a slash scar across his cheek.

Due to scoliosis, his chest and back are slightly tilted to the side. This isn’t easy to see unless his shirt is off. It does cause him pain and also makes it harder for him to walk longer distances. 

He uses a cane to get around. He actually owns three canes; one has a sword hidden inside of it, another is extendable, and the last is a normal cane. He weaponised them after a bandit attacked him, causing the scar on his face.

He has habits of nodding his head, rhythmically tapping his foot or hand against the floor or the table, blinking at the same time as whoever he is speaking to, and gesturing with his hands while he talks.

He also has synaesthesia, seeing certain colours and shapes whenever he hears certain noises ‘connected’ to them. He also experiences smells on rarer occasions. 

Hobbies and Interests: His magic skills. He has dabbled in sleight of hand, misdirection, and mentalism (including hypnosis, which he uses his magic for), and he is very good at those too. 

He has also dabbled in Escapology, and is able to get out of most rope bindings, straightjackets, and pick locks. He also likes to read, cook, practise his tricks, and tend to plants.

Occupation: An administrator in a library and a stage magician. Currently working in Winterhold. 

Skills: Illusion magic, Speech, One-handed, Lock-picking, Sneak, Destruction Magic, and Conjuration. 

Personality: While he’s on stage, Antonio speaks with confidence, authority, and even some glee. 

Off-stage, he’s quiet, jaded, and very cynical. He prefers to just be left alone for the most part. He doesn’t have much faith in humanity. He also pretends to be a massive sceptic.

That said, he isn’t a complete asshole. He secretly has a lot of compassion and empathy for other people. He performs at orphanages and hospitals for free and donates a portion of his earnings to charity. 

If you can break past the guarded shell, you have someone a bit on the nicer side.

Basic Backstory: Antonio was born in Summerset to Benito and Gertrude.

He often found himself entertaining or at least occupying his own mind with various tasks. He also grew up in a strictly religious household, which he found himself hating as he grew older and it eventually put him off any kind of faith or servitude to the gods. He found himself interested in magic tricks and illusions after one of his neighbours showed him a few.

He started to teach himself when he was in teens and became very good at it, especially as he grew older. He also dabbled more in his Breton magicka, figuring out what else he could do with it. He also realised he was gay, much to his dismay. Even now, he keeps that firmly under wraps.

Eventually, at the age of 17, he had a falling out with his parents over his lack of religious belief. He went on a tirade on how their beliefs (or the fact that they hid behind them) were, in his words ‘a big steaming pile of shit’.

After being told his synaesthesia was a sign that he was being influenced by the daedra and he punched his father for it, he was essentially kicked out. Uncaring about that, he changed his name and went to High Rock to make a name for himself, remembering his mother’s stories of when she lived there. 

He started very small at first. He was able to find a place to stay. He worked as much as he could and performed his magic on the side. He was eventually invited to taverns and inns to perform and that got him attention and more money. He also witnessed a vampire feeding on a person, and this terrified him, but he remained determined to continue going and not let it get to him too much.

When he turned twenty, symptoms of his scoliosis started to become prominent, coming with pain and finding it harder to walk or run for longer distances. Luckily, this didn’t affect his magic shows too badly.

At the age of thirty, he started to wander to other places and live long term and do work. Where he officially became known as Lord Enigma when performing. He’s currently in Winterhold, helping in the Arcanium. 

Leofric Lawford

Name: Leofric Lawford 

Age: 35

Birthday: 10th of Rain’s Fall 

Gender: Cis Male (he/him/his pronouns) 

Powers and Abilities: Immune to Vampirism and most other diseases, Beast Form. Voice of the Emperor, and Imperial Luck. 

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual.

Race: Imperial/Werewolf 

Faction: Companions, also does bounty work and has affiliations with Dawnguard. 

Current Residence: Whiterun. 

Mother: Unknown. 

Father: Unknown.

Height: 6’5" 

Weight: 240lbs 

Body Type: Mesomorph/Muscular 

Hair: Light brown and slightly wavy

Eyes: Dark brown .

Skin: White 

Languages: Tamrielic, and Ayleidoon.

Distinguishing features: He has many many scars from his days of battling. He has a slight beard. It’s not as full as Bill’s, but it’s definitely fuller than basic stubble. 

He doesn’t smile very often. If you see him do it, take a picture; you’ll never see it again in your life otherwise.

He has dyslexia. It hasn’t been identified yet, so he’s been suffering in silence about it. He also has some slight shortsightedness, but makes up for that with his other skills.

Hobbies and Interests: Reading, raising butterflies, plants and botany (he also researches how to better weaponise them (such as by using sachets of herbs to cloak himself, or make oils and decoctions for better damage output) or heal with them, history, boxing, and surprisingly, painting. 

Occupation: Companion

Skills: Alchemy, creating potions and poisons alike, heavy armour, two-handed and one-handed weaponry, which he’s trained himself in since a very young age,blocking, and hand-to-hand combat. 

Personality: He is rather stoic, and guarded, but still kind, brave and benevolent.

Although a werewolf and harsh on criminals and other monsters, he has a soft spot for humans, pacifistic supernatural creatures of other species, and animals, rescuing them and treating them with a distant sort of kindness. He is also incredibly loyal to those he makes friends with. 

He also prefers to be fair in a fight, giving his opponents a fair chance to defend themselves and fight back. That said, he believes underhanded tactics can be a tool to use only when necessary. 

Basic Backstory: Leofric was born in Cyrodiil, and left at an orphanage soon after as a baby. He was looked after by his guardians and taught the skills he needed. It was believed he would simply become a member of the imperial watch when he was older.

However, he became fascinated by stories of the companions and what they did. He left the orphanage at the age of sixteen years old and honed his skills, eventually making his way to Skyrim.

He had already shown a lot of the qualities of the companions during his travels, and he had actually been noticed by some of the travelling ones. He was accepted after some trials and has been with them since. 

He eventually became a werewolf when with them as well, and has not regretted this choice. He sees this as a blessing and a privilege. 

[lukeskywalking]

Rules: Answer twenty questions and then tag twenty bloggers you want to get to know better.

Tagged by: @party-like-a-brockstar thank u 5′10 queen

1. Name: Gwendolyn 

2. Nickname: I mean I go by Gwen. Gwennie is most widely used among family while Gween is most common among my friends 

3. Zodiac Sign: Cancer lol 

4. Height: 5′2″ :(

5. Languages: English, a wee bit of German 

6. Nationality: American

7. Favorite Season: I can find things to love about all the seasons but my favorite is late Spring & Summer.

8. Favorite Flower: I like daisies and stargazer lilies 

9. Favorite Scent: petrichor, coffee, strawberries ! 

10. Favorite Color: the other colors WISH they were as top-tier as pink is

11. Favorite Animal: weirdly specific but I love chickadees. and foxes 

12. Favorite Fictional Characters: Luke Skywalker is my main bitch. Steve Rogers and Peter Parker as well 

13. Coffee, Tea, or Hot Chocolate: Coffee but it has to have something in it, I can’t even drink it if it’s only got cream and sugar. Mocha is my favorite.

14. Average Hours Sleep: bruv......don’t go there

15. Dog or Cat Person: both! I have a dog named Brady and I want a kitty so badly

16. Number of Blankets You Sleep With: 2-3 depending where I am and what season it is 

17. Dream Trip: uh I mean I guess I wanna go to Europe but everybody says that. I wanna go to the village in Italy where my ancestors are from and I wanna go to Ireland as well. 

18. Blog Established: I cannot believe I’ve had this fucking shit account since 2012. I cannot believe it. Why am I still here

19. Follower Count: just recently surpassed 1,000. Take that as you will considering it only took me 8 shitty fucking painstaking years

20. Random Fact: oh shit uh idk I have a coldplay tattoo ig?? 

tagging: uhhhh anyone who wants to !!! 

[rose-the-emo-cryptid]

I used a bunch of extensions on The Twickstew Vowe Fic by @knyight_of_heawt_and_awt (I’ww fix the tag on my phone)

@knight-of-heart-and-art

uh, you'we going tu have so much fun weth this >w<

john gwa🅱️s you and twiis to shuv hes fucking tongue down youw thwuat, and you'we honyestwy too sowpwisid tu stop him. pawt uf it's the fact he's going that—dewk wawnyed you that twickstew mode tends tu have thi effect of making humans weiwg and happy and a🅱️oot six fwavows of howny, 🅱️ut you didn't expect it tu 🅱️i diwected at you—and pawt of it is 🅱️ecaose his kiss actuawwy tastes.......sweet.

wiki, that's nyut a figuwi uf spiech. he tastes sweet, weke mewted 🅱️wue wasp🅱️ewwy popsicwes and thi cwiam fwom the centiw of an ecwaew. it's weiwd as fock, and nyut entiwewy in a good way.

anyway, the com🅱️o of weiwd shet makes you fwieze up wong enyoudh fow juhn tu tondoe-kess yoo, and somewhewe in thewe youw pewception wadecawwy shifts. wike, yoo wewe wowwied, 🅱️ut nyow?

this es fucking amazing >w<

john's diggwing as hi puwws away, dwaggeng you a few feet up in the aiw 🅱️icaose he's fwoating ang wefusend to wit go of yoow awms at the same timi nyowmawwy you'd compwain, ow at wiast use youw own fwoaty powews to get un his wevew, 🅱️ut widht nyow aww you do is waogh and maki a face at hem. fock, he's cute. you want anyuthew kess. weke, wight nyow......

you weach up fow him, vagoewy nyuting that youw nyaews awi 🅱️widht gween and hink nyow, ang he waughs and unciwemonyiouswy gwops yuu...... since you'wi nyot fwuating, this means you hit the dpuung a🅱️oot hawf a second watew, yoow muuth snyappind shut at the impact, 🅱️iting awmost thwoogh yuuw tongue.

"john, yuu tiasind fuck—" ouh, youw mouth is fuww of 🅱️woug. sweet 🅱️wood.... whewi john's kiss tasted wike 🅱️wui wasp🅱️ewwies and sweit cweam, this tastes wike gwein appwe suda and stwaw🅱️ewwy sywup fuckin' awesome, inyough that you automaticawwy swawwow instead of spitting it out.

"daaave, you'we the unye whu doisn't have enyough sense tu fwy ^w^ " he comes duwn to huvw just a🅱️uv yuu, eyes wide and ixcited ang so cwose to youw face. actuawwy, he's cwose enyough that you can just weach up and dwa🅱️ a handfow uf hes haiw, puww him down into anyothew kiss.

damn. can't taste him thwough the appwe🅱️ewwy-sywup tasti of yoow own 🅱️wuod, though.

when he puwws 🅱️ack a second watiw, hi's weckind hes wips, his mooth stainyed the 🅱️wight wed of stwaw🅱️ewwy sywup. is that what cowow youw 🅱️woog es nyow? you wuv that ;;w;;

"yoo taste so good owu " hi squeaws in excitement. "c'mon, give me mowe, i want mowe (・`ω´・) "

"chiww a second, 🅱️a🅱️e," you teww him, wuwwing up to yuow feet. youw tungue's awwiady quit 🅱️weiding; may🅱️e twickstews hiaw fastew than nyuwmaw? nyow, that's annyoying. ow et wuuwd 🅱️i, if you didn't have youw swowd.....

whech john snyatches uot of yuuw hang as soon as yuu uncaptchawogui et, gwa🅱️🅱️ing it 🅱️y the 🅱️wade and cotting his uwn pawm in the pwucess. thi 🅱️woog that cumes out es 🅱️wight 🅱️wue, onye of thuse cowuws that doesn't ivin seem weaw.

you gwa🅱️ thi swowd 🅱️ack fwom john and wun youw tongui awung thi 🅱️wade whewi he's 🅱️weg on et. it tastes good uwu wike kissing him, excipt even 🅱️ettew uwu sweetew uwo swiet enyoogh to gevi you an instant sugaw wush, on top of thi tweckstew wosh ;;w;;

john wicks hes hand, ang hes eyes do imposse🅱️wy wedew as he 🅱️ounces up and down en pwace and makes dwa🅱️🅱️y hands at yoo fuw the swowd. "huwy shit howy shet howy shit, dave, gimme that, i want muwi fwom you, yoo can go mi aftiw i do yuu, okay? it was my idea, c'muoon—"

he's so cuti when hi's 🅱️edging, 🅱️ut you'we excited to sei what he dicides to do to yuu, so you toss him thi swowd and waogh when he cuts himsewf agaen en the pwocess of catchind it. fuck yis; that means mowi sweitnyess fow you to wick uff his skin watiw ;;w;;

it soddenwy occuws to you that you dun't have to stop at wicking. you couwd totawwy 🅱️ite guwn intu his awm, take off chunks of hem and feed them tu him thwuogh muwe kisses. it'd 🅱️e sweet and he'd heaw fwom it pwetty fast; he'd wuv it, wight? wight?

you'we a🅱️out to put that pwan ento actiun when john swings the swuwd in a cwumsy awc, wippind a deep gash into yuuw stumach. pwedicta🅱️wy, thewi's a wot uf 🅱️wood; suwpwisingwy, et goesn't huwt. uw may🅱️i it dois, 🅱️ut the pain feews goud 🅱️ecause evewything feiws good wight nyuw. whichivew it es, john dwops thi swowd and shuvs hes hand into thi wound, cuming uut with a handfuw of something nyeon wed and dwippeng, gwinnying at you as he waises it to his muuth.

yuo wov thi contwast of youw candy-cowowid 🅱️woog against his chawk-white sken, 🅱️ut you king of want to adg some 🅱️woe, so you scoop up the swowd fwom the dwoond. youw stwiki is a wot fastew and mowe pwecesi than his; onye quick vewticaw swash acwoss hes chest, cutting thwough hes shiwt and may🅱️e an inch giep intu hes skin.

"daaave, dive me somi wawnying (・`ω´・) " john wowws hes eyes, then sqoeaks as yuu pot 🅱️oth hands un his waist ang wian duwn to won yuuw tungui acwoss the cot you just made....... fuck, it's awweady cwosing—that's nyot dood (・`ω´・)

john squiaws agaen when you 🅱️iti duwn and jiwk yoow head to wip a stwip uf sken off; yoo'we pwitty sowe it's a suund of diwight.... he confiwms that a second watew, when hi yanks you up 🅱️y youw haiw su he can wick his 🅱️widht 🅱️wue 🅱️wood off youw faci.

[baking-with-a-gremlin]

The Non-Fluff Good Stuff

Firstly, I’ve noticed a slight confusion when using the noun macaroon. There is in fact a general consensus that it refers to a French dessert that’s tinted with food colouring, with its key feature being its two cookies being sandwiched with a filling between them. While this is very much true (and my goodness are they delicious), those types of cookies are spelled macarons. When discussing macaroons, they’re actually almost like Hersey kisses but made out of a whipped and hardened coconut substance (also very scrumptious) that’s a golden white and is bite size. However, we’ll be making macaroons that some might know as frogs. These morsels are still made with shredded coconut but instead of heavenly fluffiness, the coconut is within a soft but brittle piece of chocolate.

As I tied Reese’s apple red coloured apron behind her back, her smile lit up and she wanted those bamboo baking utensils from our earlier session. “Sir daddy,” she said. “We have to wait to get the ingredients in the bowl to stir it, you turkey,” I responded as I got some one of our stainless-steel saucepans from under the cupboard. Ever since I showed her my drum skills to the backing of Baby Shark using my worn-down pencils, she now taps longer objects and says, “Daddy doo doo, momma doo doo.” Bouncing my head to her beats and singing along, I grabbed the bright white 2L milk jug and the aluminum foil covered butter. After heating a half cup of butter (I honestly believe the microwave’s her favourite part), that and the bright white 2% milk went into the saucepan. A cup of sugar and 6 tablespoons of cocoa powder. I forgot how richly brown and velvety cocoa powder was. Reese’s nose wrinkled while her upper lip pulled up after tasting the powder off the tip of her tiny, two-year-old index finger. “Daddy!” she said, “It wasn’t me you little goob,” I replied. Reesie stirred it in a fairly uniform way as I turned the dial to activate the burners.

As we waited, for our chocolatey concoction to boil on the glass top, Reese had to try the coconut and the oats that were eventually destined to be added to the mixture. She had mixed feelings with the coconut; absolutely hated the uncooked oats. But I knew everything was better in chocolate. She has a new thing where there’s officially Christmas decorations up and she go around and say all their names. “No-man, rainder, danta, gween [a wreath on the wall],” she went on. Al the first few half-globed brown bubbles came to the surface, the steel cut pale oats went in, followed by the coconut and the dark coloured and vanilla extract. After letting it boil for an additional 60 seconds, I cut a piece of wax paper to place on the grey cookie sheets. I gave her her own tiny spoon to scoop the mixture out and onto the wax paper. Her curiosity got the best of her, and the macaroon covered spoon went into her mouth. “Hot, hot daddy,” she said. “It’s ok little one, it’ll cool down.” It did and it eventually went back into mouth to finish it. It was a hit!  

Upon placing the mixture onto the sheet, I was impressed with the uniformity of the globs; probably 2 to 3 inches from side-to-side with the coconut shreds coming out from every angle. Into the fridge they go. Washing the dishes while the gremlin bathed with her mother’s aid, I took the change to clean up the poor kitchen. Dishes, counters, sinks. There were globs of chocolate covered coconut pieces in the few places, but she’s getting pretty steady. Hearing the gremlin come down the stairs, I prepared the chilled macaroon for us. “Reesie! Come try this with daddy,” I said. She scooped that up like how a cobra dashes towards you if it feels threatened. Jumping up and down, I could tell she was proud of herself.

On to the next!  

[yeahawvampire]

NO BUT REALLY, when you actually SIT to talk to people who hated Andrew's Peter Parker, (or sat before because now everyone and their mom's finally shut up as they should after complaining about Andrew's Peter for almost 10 years until nwh), you can see how their complaints doesn't make any sense.

I can go into heavy detail about that.

And I will.

I will get into the heavy detail.

"Oh, He's too handsome to be Peter Parker"

Tobey Maguire is handsome. Comic Peter Parker is handsome. If you pick almost any Spider-Man comic since the 60s you'll see that Peter Parker was pretty for years. He always has, the thing is that he's also an awkward nerd and a loser (affectionate). And you can say “Oh, but that's after the bite”. When not really, the spider bite never affected Peter physiognomy. He was never ugly in his entire life, he was just scrawny.

Even Gwen Stacy, the most beautiful girl of his school, though he was pretty when she first saw him:

"He's too cool to play Peter Parker!"

This one always gets me like

Im sorry, WHAT??

COOL?????

this mf?

Which part???? When he got his ass beaten in front of the entire school?? Or when the first time he interacted with a girl in the movie, he couldn't even get and entire word out of his mouth just to awkwardly agree to take pictures for the girl's boyfriend??? Or was the part Flash thrown a basketball in is face as a good morning?

The poor guy couldn't even ride his famous cool-guy-skate in school before being cut off by a teacher 💀

And I'm not even gonna talk about the locker scene, that's just sad.

The only times you can see Peter acting more “cool” and “cocky”, are the times when he is with people he knows for a long time and people he is comfortable with.

This people being his aunt, uncle, Harry and Gwen Stacy.

Specially after becoming Spider-Man and getting more comfortable and confident himself.

"But HE HAS A SKATEBOARD 😫"

My brother in Christ comic Peter drove a fucking MOTORCYCLE

AND JUST TO PISS OFF FLASH AND IMPRESS GWEN

He was too selfish to be Peter Parker. The moment he got his power he humiliated Flash, and the real Peter Parker would NEVER do such a thing.

Okay, that's the part that I hate to break it to you.

Because Peter Parker is selfish. And he had selfish tendencies since he was a teenager. Even the Raimiverse Peter (who is the most golden-heart-boy nerdy Peter we all love) was kinda selfish. His first though after getting his powers in the Ramiverse was to get money in a fucking UNDERGROUND WRESTLING MATCH and buy a car with the money just to impress a girl he barely talked before.

The thing with Peter Parker, is that behind that mask, he is as human as everyone. He gets mad, he does dumb shit, and he has selfish tendencies. The beauty about Peter's character is the character development of a selfish kid turning himself in an altruist man, and in the hardest way. And the realism of that is the fact he has both tendencies inside him (the selfishness and the selfless goodwill), and sometimes this gets him in so much internal conflict that almost drives him insane.

Also, as some tend to argue the whole “With great powers come great responsibilities” is so powerful because he saw where the selfishness got him, and decided to change.

Now in a less serious note about the Flash problem. This is how og Peter handled him with his new powers.

Forget Basketball humiliation, my guy knocked out the poor man IN A BOXE RING

(I'm not gonna about the whole Gween and MJ thing because it is pretty well known by now how Peter met and fell in love with both of them in different points of his life.)

But I'm glad @beautyandthepeith bought about his neurotic tendencies and social anxiety through this post. Because that's ALSO a thing.

Peter is always a foot away from having his joker arc, the poor man lives with constant stress all the time, and who can blame him??? The last time he caught a break was probably when he was 10. In many times, you can see him stressing more and more trying to manage his double life and any other shit the universe bought onto him.

We're talking about, a working-class guy living as a student and an all-time superhero since he was 15, right after a major trauma event. He has one of the biggest secrets anyone's can have, and he knows if somehow at any point the wrong people find about it, everything and everyone he loves would be in instantly danger.

Not only that he went through so much, (Uncle Ben, Gwen's father, Gwen, and so, so much more), that this part of him not only makes sense but also makes him relatable.

The problem with the whole backlash that Andrew's Peter received (specially from nerd dudebros who were strangely mad about girls liking Spider-Man for some reason) is that the majority of people who complained about him, liked Raimiverse Spider-Man/Peter Parker, and took as face value that he was comic Peter Parker.

Many of them were nostalgic about the first trilogy, that didn't get a “proper” ending. And look, it's okay to have him as a favorite. There's literally nothing wrong with that. Tobey's Peter is great, the whole Raimiverse trilogy is great (yes, even the 3rd one I'll die on this hill). But the moment people took their love for Raimiverse trilogy as a reason to shit on Andrew's Peter, and worst, used comic accuracy as a “reasonable” justification in doing that, That was bullshit.

Specially because as I said before in this post: Most of this aRE NOT EVEN TRUE.

The more you learn about Peter Parker, specially the new incarnations of him (early 90s to today) the more you can see how Andrew fucking nailed him many times through the movie. And how TASM is an, as much as Raimiverse, a love letter to Spider-Man comics.

Andrew did great. And the movie tried its best (for how crazy this might look).

New Way Home just bought the uncomfortable truth to everyone that Andrew was never as bad as many people tried to make him. And those same people were, not just wrong, but embarrassingly stubborn for 10 years.

how can you say no way home was the best spiderman movie and sony should “give back” the rights to marvel/disney and not be embarrassed 🤡🤡🤡