#BUT IT WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE TO HAVE NO ZITS

[rosamundpkes]

i wore a mask all last week until yesterday bc i was sick and now i’ve got a huge zit developing on my face :(

[waitimcomingtoo]

I’ll Cry If I Want To

Pairing: enemies to lovers!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Synopsis: you get stood up on your birthday and Peter attempts to cheer you up despite your feud

Masterlist

Peter walked into the kitchen in the tower and was immediately greeted by a confetti popper exploding in his face followed by a tender kiss on the forehead from Tony.

“Oh, my. Good morning to me.” Peter smiled at the greeting.

“Damn it, Parker.” Tony groaned. “I thought you were my little girl.”

“Don’t feel bad, daddy. A lot of people confuse Peter for a little girl.” You said as you walked into the kitchen behind Peter. The two of you made eye contact and you gave him an innocent smile while he rolled his eyes at you.

“Ha ha.“ He said sarcastically and then hissed at you like a cat. You gave him a look as you walked over to your dad.

“Happy birthday, baby girl.” Tony said and pulled you into a long hug.

“Thank you, daddy.” You smiled and hugged him back.

“Thank you, daddy.” Peter said in a high pitched voice to mock you. You and Tony looked at him and he quickly cleared his throat.

“Sorry. What I meant to say was, happy birthday. I didn’t know that was today. I mean, I’d been wondering why you looked so old but I assumed it was from your lack of sunscreen use.”

“Nice try. I wear sunscreen everyday.” You replied.

“Really?” He gasped. “Might want to up that SPF a few. You look like a crumbled piece of paper and not in a fun Taylor Swift way.”

“Don’t talk to me about skincare, Rudolf.” You snapped and tapped your nose twice to point out the zit on the tip of Peter nose. He covered it with his hand and narrowed his eyes at you.

“Children, please. No fighting. It stops my moisturizer from sinking in.” Tony sighed and rubbed circles into his skin.

“Sorry, daddy. I just wanted to make sure Peter knew about the giant pimple on his nose in case he was going to see anyone today.” You said as you smiled sweetly at Peter. He discreetly flipped you off by scratching his cheek with his middle finger.

“Any plans for the night, jelly bean?” Tony asked you.

“Nothing crazy. My friends are coming over later for a sleepover.”

“Oh God. Is this gonna be one of those crazy parties where you all get drunk and things get out of hand and you accidentally kill someone and have to dispose of the body together while hijixs ensues?” Peter. whined.

“No, because this isn’t one of the pornos you watch.” You scoffed.

“Pfft. That is not what I watch.” He insisted. “Where would I even find something like that? What would I even type? I’m open to suggestions.”

“Shut up.” You laughed. “You’re such a weirdo. And don’t be hanging around when my friends are here. I already told them you’re a pervert and on the FBI watch list so you don’t have a chance with any of them.”

“I don’t want to date your freakbob friends anyway.” He scoffed. “And to keep it down tonight, will you? I already wake up the birds chirping every morning. I don’t want to hear you birds all night too.”

“I actually came up with a solution for that. What if you killed yourself?” You asked through a smile.

“That’s a great idea. I might give that a whirl today if I’m not busy.” He replied and matched your smile.

“You? Busy?” You laughed. “Please. Busy doing what?”

“Peter and I are gonna be in the lab doing boring stuff with the suits. Adjustments, additions, and what have you.” Tony answered you.

“Oh. Okay. Do you need any help?” You asked.

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that on your birthday, baby girl. Peters got it.” Tony replied, making your smile falter a little.

“Yeah. I’ve got it.” Peter boasted and gave you a smug look. You glared at him for a moment before looking back at your dad.

“I’ll catch you later for some cake, okay honey bun?” Tony told you before kissing your forehead.

“Okay. Bye. Have fun.” You smiled sadly as he left the room.

“You look greasy, by the way.” Peter said once you were alone.

“Like I care what you think. Even your hairline won’t stay with you.” You scoffed and nodded towards his forehead.

“It’s not actually receding, is it?” He asked and touched his hair.

“Maybe your forehead is just getting bigger.” You shrugged and popped a grape in your mouth from the bowl on the table.

“Bite me.” He replied and stopped touching his hair.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You chuckled. “Isn’t that how you got your powers, spider boy?”

“Yup. What do you think would happen if you bite me? Would I be able to a do anything a total bitch can?” He wondered, making you pelt a grape at him. He caught it with ease and popped it into his mouth.

“Watch your mouth before I bring out the peppermint essential oils again.” You warned him.

“You wouldn’t.” He said quietly.

“Try me.” You shrugged. You stared at each other across the kitchen for a moment before Peter gave up.

“You win. Here’s your card. Happy birthday, gaylord.” He said as he handed you a homemade birthday card from his jeans pocket before quickly running out of the room. You rolled your eyes at him but smiled once he was gone and read the card. As annoying as you normally found him, you appreciated that he remembered your birthday. Inside the card was a crude drawing of the two of you fighting next to a drawing of a gift card to Planet Fitness.

Peter strolled into your bedroom around 10 pm when he had grown curious as to why your friends weren’t there yet. It was getting kind of late and you had listed many activities that you had planned to do while Peter begrudgingly listened to you talk earlier in the day. You were still in your room by yourself so he went in and knocked on your door to see what was happening.

“Hey dingus. When are your dumb friends getting here? I need to know when I should jam my ears with scissors.” Peter said as he leaned against your doorway. You were sitting on your bed with your knees draw to your chest and your chin resting on top of them as you stared out the window.

“Do that anyway.” You mumbled and didn’t move from your position.

“I’m going to. I can’t listen to you all yap about when Reputation TV is coming all night. And your friend Stacy’s theories are always way off.” He continued. You still didn’t turn to look at him and his smirk dropped when he heard a sniffle. He frowned and took a step into your room.

“Hello? I knew you were dumb but did you forget how to turn your neck or something?” He said to try to make you laugh. You stayed still and he craned his neck to try to see your face.

“Seriously though, when are they coming?”

“They’re not coming.” You said finally in a horse voice.

“Why? What happened? Did they finally realize you’re an annoying brat whose only redeeming quality is access to daddy’s credit card?” Peter teased in another attempt to make you laugh.

“Something like that.” You mumbled. Peter frowned and finally realized that something was actually wrong. He sat down on your bed and reached his hand out.

“Whats going on? Are you okay?” He asked in a soft voice.

“Just go away.” You said sadly and wiped tears from your face. Peter shot a web at a tissue box on your dresser and pulled it over.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what happened.” He said and handed you a tissue. You gave him a skeptical look and he held up one hand in defense while waving the tissue in the other like a white flag. You sighed and took the tissue before wiping your eyes.

“They found out it wasn’t a yacht party or at some fancy restaurant or some elitist club in Tribeca so they all cancelled.“ You said as you nervously ripped the tissue up in your hands.

“They cancelled? Why?”

“Because no one wants to come to my party. They want to come to a Stark Industries party with puppies in the gift bags and acrobats suspended from the ceiling and Avengers walking around like party clowns. Just hanging out with me wasn’t cool enough so they all bailed.” You sniffled and turned back to look out the window. Peter raised his hand to place it on your shoulder but then drew it back. He didn’t know if he was who you’d want to comfort you and he didn’t want to push it.

“I’m sorry.” He said instead.

“Like you care.” You laughed sadly and held your knees tighter to your chest.

“I do care.” He insisted. “And I’m very sorry this happened to you tonight.”

“No you’re not.” You scoffed. “You’re probably thrilled to see me like this. This is probably the greatest moment of your dumb life.”

“It’s not.” He said quietly. You finally whipped around to look at Peter and he saw the pain in your red eyes.

“It’s not? Look at me, Peter. I’m pathetic. I’m alone on my birthday because I wasn’t good enough for anyone to hang out with.” You exclaimed. Peter went quiet as you slowly caught your breath. You teased each other all the time but you’d never actually yelled at him before. You wiped your eyes with the tissue before staring at your hands.

“You were right.” You said quietly. “I am just a spoiled brat who people only like because of my connections. And I’m sure you’re anxiously waiting for me to shut up so you can say “I told you so” and prove to me once again that I’m always wrong.”

You and Peter sat in silence for a minute without looking at each other. Peter felt guilty that you were expecting him to kick you while you were down. You were feeling your own guilt for snapping at him when he was trying to be nice.

“I’m not gonna say that.” He said after a beat.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Just go away.” You said miserably and turned back to the window. Peter opened his mouth to say something but shut it when he couldn’t find the words. He patted your shoulder twice before getting up and leaving your room. You turned to look at the door once he was gone and felt yourself missing his presence. You turned back to the window and stared out at the night sky through your teary eyes and let time pass.

After a while, you started to smell something. You sniffed the air until you recognized it as the scent of a something burning. Out of sheer curiosity, you wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and padded into the kitchen. You found Peter in the kitchen with a lace trimmed pink apron tied around his waist and flour smeared on his cheek. You smiled in surprise and leaned against the wall to watch him for a minute. He was humming to himself a song you didn’t recognize while scrapping a burnt black lump of something into the trash can. When he finally turned around, he jumped when he saw you.

“Jesus. You scared me. But I guess I should’ve known the smell of something baking would have your big back running to the kitchen like I hit the bat signal.”

“Shut up.” You chuckled. “What are you doing in here?”

“Well, your parents went to a movie since they thought your friends would be here. That means no ones home.” Peter began.

“And?” You asked.

“And so I thought we could fulfill a lifelong fantasy of mine and making sweet love to you on the kitchen counter.” He smiled suavely and raised his eyebrows at you.

“Excuse me?” Your jaw dropped as he drummed his fingertips on the counter.

“I’m joking. I’m clearly baking a bake. Or, I tried. I guess 500 degrees was too hot.” He said and looked at the burnt cake in the trash.

“Yeah, that’s a few hundred above what it should be. But why are you baking? We have a chef for that.”

“Because it’s your birthday you miserable bitch. And everyone deserves a cake baked with love. Now do you prefer chocolate or vanilla frosting on your burnt cake?” He asked and held up two cans of frosting. You looked between the two before your eyes settled on him. You hugged your blanket tighter around yourself and shook your head.

“I don’t want your pity.” You said quietly.

“You don’t have it so shut up and grab a spatula before I rescind your choice in the matter and funfetti the fuck out of this cake.” He replied and held out a spatula. You stared at it and felt compelled to take it and join him, but you were still throwing yourself a pity party.

“No.”

“No? Look, I’m trying to cheer your dumb ass up so can you please work with me here?” Peter sighed and looked at you. You stared at him for a while before cracking the slightest smile. He noticed the smile and knew he had succeeded in his plan to cheer you up.

“Fine. But I’m not eating that. That’s what Santa puts in the bad kids stockings. We’ll make a new one. But I’m not touching raw eggs.” You told him and grabbed your dad’s matching pink apron from the drawer.

“I wouldn’t expect you to, Princess.” Peter mumbled under his breath. You glared at him through your lashes as you threw some flour and sugar into a bowl. Peter went to put the butter in but you pushed his hand away.

“It can’t be cold butter or it won’t mix properly. It has to be room temperature.” You explained as you filled a measuring cup with water.

“Oh. Let’s pop it in the microwave then.”

“We can’t do that either. Then the hot butter will scramble the eggs. Do you want little egg bits in your cake?” You asked him as you microwaved the cup of water for a minute.

“Maybe just a little.” Peter replied as he watched you put the butter into a small bowl and then place the bowl on top of the microwaved water.

“There. This will soften the butter without making it hot enough to scramble the eggs.” You explained. He looked between your little invention and you for a minute before smiling.

“Wow. That was really smart.” He said genuinely. “Women really do belong in the kitchen.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes as you set the temperature to the correct heat on the oven. Peter couldn’t help but watch you over his shoulder as you combined the rest of the dry ingredients and expertly cracked an egg in one hand. He rarely got to see you like this, no makeup and in lounge clothes. And he definitely never saw you upset before. He was used to the perfectly groomed and standoffish version of yourself so this change of pace brought him unexpected joy.

“Move over. That’s not how you mix batter. You need to fold it.” You told him and reminded him of the you he knew. You bumped him with your hip and put your hands over his to help him fold the batter.

“Like laundry?” He asked as his cheeks heated up.

“Like you know what laundry is, Pigpen. And no. A different folding. Like this.” You said and helped him mix the batter until it was the desired consistency.

“Oh wow. That worked really well. I usually just go sicko mode until it turns into goop.” He confessed.

“And how does that work out for you?” You asked him.

“Look in the trash and you’ll find out.” Peter replied and eyed the burnt cake in the garbage can. You playfully rolled your eyes at him and kept helping him fold the batter. Everytime he tried to stir the batter, you gently corrected his hands to fold it instead.

“Why don’t you just do it?” He asked when he started getting frustrated with himself.

“Because you won’t learn if I do it.” You replied in a softer tone. Peter went quiet since you were being unexpectedly nice to him. You let the batter sit for minute once you were satisfied and then poured in into a cake pan.

“There. Thats gonna take about 30 minutes to bake and then it needs to cool before we frost it.” You told him as you shut the oven door.

“Oh, so we have 30 minutes? Then circling back to that making love on the counter idea-“

“Shut it.” You warned him. Peter pretended to zipper his lips and throw away the key. You cracked a smile before starting to clean up the kitchen. Peter wordlessly helped you tidy up and you exchanged a soft smile with each other in the silence of the kitchen.

“What was your worst birthday?” You asked after a long beat of silence.

“Are you talking to me?” Peter asked after looking around.

“Peter, we’re the only ones in the room.”

“Sorry. It’s not like you’ve ever asked me a personal question before. It’s usually “are you stupid?” or “can you go away?” or “do you need a tampon cry baby?” He recalled, making you feel bad for always being so mean to him.

“Oh. Sorry about that.” You said quietly. “I sound a lot meaner than I thought I was.”

“I’m mean too.” Peter shrugged.

“You tease me.” You shook your head. “I’m just cruel.”

“I think we are an equal amount of mean to each other. Don’t let it keep you up at night. I’m sure your chronic yeast infections do that enough.” Peter tried to lighten the mood, but you didn’t crack a smile. You seemed faraway in thought and he was curious as to why.

“Do you think I’m hard to be around?” You asked after a minute. Peter was about to crack another joke until he saw the look on your face. He could tell you needed a friend right now and was filled with determination to be one.

“No. I think those girls you called your “friends” are hard to be around.” He said seriously. “I’ve seen you with them. They’re the mean ones. Them bailing tonight has nothing to do with you. They’re a bunch of shallow jerks who only care about the material things in life. They don’t care about having deep connections with people. They only care about deep pockets on people. I know this isn’t the first time they’ve ditched you. And I know you feel alone even when they are here because you’re never fully included. You think no one notices because you tell stories about your charming adventures together but I see it in your eyes. They make you feel like an afterthought. You act tough and pretend it doesn’t bother you but I know that it does. You shouldn’t hang out with them anymore.”

“Then who am I going to hang out with?” You shrugged sadly. “Without them, I don’t have any friends.”

“Sitting alone is better than sitting at a table where you’re the topic of conversation when you get up.” Peter said simply. You stared at him for a moment before your eyes fell to the floor.

“I just don’t want to be alone.” You said quietly. Peter nodded his head in understanding and let a silence fall between the two of for a while. He was going to say that you wouldn’t be alone because you’d have him, but he didn’t know if you wanted to hear that.

“Can I ask you something?” He asked.

“No.” You said immediately. You made eye contact and you let out a sigh.

“Okay. Go ahead.”

“Why don’t you like me?” He asked without looking into our eyes. You saw that coming and stared at him to try and get a sense of what was going on in his head. He slowly looked back up at you and gave you a weak smile.

“Do you remember that time the power went out in the city due to that Max guy or whatever and we all lit candles and hung out in the tower?”

“Uh oh.” Peter gulped. “You answered my question with another question. That can’t be good.”

“Shut up. Do you remember or not?” You asked and gently kicked his foot with your foot.

“I remember that.” He told you and held your gaze.

“You were new around here. You had just gotten your powers that year so I didn’t really know you yet. I had gone to look for more candles and found you crying on the floor of the linen closet.

“I remember that.” He nodded. “It was all so overwhelming to be here with the whole team. I had never felt so small.”

“I know. I told you I felt like that too sometimes. And then we stayed up for hours talking about every stupid thing we ever worried about and gave each other advice. I think at one point I gave you advice on how much conditioner to use.” You said as you replayed the night in your memory. You had a look on your face that Peter had never seen on you before. It was natural and relaxed and playful, all things he knew to be the opposite of you. It was so rare that the two of you were getting along and he didn’t want to do anything to ruin in.

“A dime sized amount and not on the roots. I still use that advice.” He chuckled. “You were so nice to me that night. You came in and pretended I wasn’t crying so that I wouldn’t be embarrassed. You just sat down with me and started talking ad if we’d always been friends. You quieted all my fears that night. I was initially so embarrassed about it but then I felt a lot better knowing someone had my back no matter how bad I messed up.”

“I always had your back.” You insisted. “Even when I was mean to you. If you were in trouble with my dad, I was always here talking him down and trying to get him to see your side. He sees you through the lense of his child that he doesn’t want hurt but I’ve always seen you as a hero who wants to help. I even got him to give you the suit back when you were 15. And it was my idea to put the warmers in because you told me you’re always cold.”

“Really? You were rooting for me this whole time?” He cracked a smile in surprise.

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “Always.”

“Then how come you act like…” Peter trailed off in fear of insulting you.

“Like what?” You asked, sounding like you already knew what was coming.

“Like you hate me.” He admitted. You felt your face burn in embarrassment and shook your head.

“I don’t hate you.” You said sheepishly.

“You don’t?” He asked in genuine surprise. You looked at him and he could see the guilt in your eyes even in the dim light of the kitchen.

“No. I don’t. I never did.”

“Then how come we don’t get along anymore?” He asked. He had only gone along with all the teasing since you began it, but he had always wondered why it started.

“One of the things we had talked about that night was how my one regret about being homeschooled was never getting to experience a prom. I told you had dreamed of it since I was a little girl and it broke my heart to know I’d never have one. So then you said…” You trailed off, thinking he’d remember what he told you. His face showed no sign of remembering it but he racked his brain anyway.

“I said what?” He asked, breaking your heart just a little more.

“You promised to take me. To yours.” You told him. You and Peter stood in silence for a moment before he burst out laughing. Your sadness immediately hardened into anger at the sound of him laughing at you.

“Wait, you’ve been pissy towards me for the last few years because I broke a promise I made at 15 years old and didn’t take you to a stupid school dance?” Peter asked through a laugh. You glared at him for his reaction and he immediately stopped when he noticed you weren’t laughing too.

“Oh. We’re not laughing?” He asked.

“Why is that funny to you?” You snapped. Peter saw the moment slipping away from him and started to panic.

“Well I was- I was a kid.” He said simply. “I had a huge crush on this girl Liz and we were finally becoming friends so I asked her and she said yes. That was years after I promised you that. I’m sorry but I didn’t remember.”

Peter thought you were going to yell at him and hurl a parade of insults his way, but you just nodded your head and looked down at the ground.

“You’re right. We were just kids. Forget I said anything.” You mumbled and started walking towards the door to leave. Peter knew he had messed up big time and possibly just killed any and all chances of the two of you becoming friends.

“Wait.” He said desperately just as the kitchen timer went off. You stopped walking and watched him haphazardly take the cake out of the oven and throw it in the stove top as he blew on it.

“You should stay. We have to frost it.” He said with a weak smile and an even weaker attempt for you for stay.

“You can’t frost it while it’s hot. It’ll slip right off.” You said without looking at him.

“Oh. I didn’t know that. Well then do you want to talk some more or-“

“I have to go.” You cut him off and swiftly left the kitchen.

You went back to your room to resume the pouting you had started earlier. You felt guilty about walking out on Peter but it had hurt you to know that a promise that had meant a lot to you didn’t even stay in his memory. You stared out the window and sulked as you thought yourself into a deep rut. It didn’t take long for Peter to start making noise in the kitchen, interrupting your thought spiral. You heard things falling out of cabinets followed by Peter swearing. He bumbled around for a while and slowly drove you crazy with all the noise he was making until you couldn’t take it anymore. Just when you were about to text him and tell him the knock it off, you heard the dulcet sounds of “The Dancing Queen” coming from downstairs. You groaned in frustration and got out of bed to go downstairs and see what was happening.

When you got to the living room, Peter was standing there in one of your dad’s suits that hugged him a little too tightly around his muscles. The room looked like it had been decorated by a child with poorly hung streamers, ripped up construction paper to act as confetti, and bunches of webs that Peter had tried to shape into stars and moons. He had dimmed the lights and put a single bowl of chips on the counter, which he proudly stood beside.

“What the hell is this?” You asked him.

“Will you go to prom with me?” He asked with a huge smile.

“No.” You said immediately. “Please kill yourself.”

“I will.” He promised. “After one dance.”

“I’m not dancing with you. I’m not doing any of this.” You told him and turned to leave. You heard a “pst” right before feeling a web hit your back. Before you knew it, Peter tugged on the web and sent you stumbling back into Peter’s arms. He caught you with ease and winked when you landed in his arms. You rolled your eyes at him but felt a smile tugged at your lips.

“Please? Just one dance? Then I’ll let you go and hate me for the rest of your life.” He pleaded as he stared into your eyes. He looked so desperate that you found yourself nodding before you knew what you were agreeing to. He smiled in excitement and twirled you around before slowly swaying to the beat. You begrudgingly sighed and wrapped your arms around his neck while his stayed in a respectable place on your hips. You could feel his eyes on you but you kept yours on the ceiling.

“You can look at me, you know.” He teased, making you begrudgingly look him in the eyes.

“Oh. I almost forgot.” He smiled and pulled something out of his pocket. You looked down and saw a few poorly drawn flowers webbed to a rubber band.

“Your corsage, my lady.” He said as he slipped it onto your wrist.

“This is so stupid.” You laughed but secretly loved the thought he put into everything.

“It’s about to get even more stupid. Wait here.” He asked and quickly ran into the kitchen. He returned with one of Morgan’s plastic tiaras with a big fake gem in the center.

“Every prom needs its queen.” He said as he placed the crown on your head. You made eye contact as he stepped forward to adjust it and you felt your breath catch in your throat from how close he was.

“You didn’t have to do this.” You said quietly.

“Yes I did. I owed you a prom experience. I’m sorry I didn’t take you the first time. And I’m sorry for laughing at you. You just caught me off guard. I have spent many nights thinking of all the things I could have done to make you hate me. I genuinely forgot about that promise. I had no idea this entire time that you hated me because of prom.” He said as the two of you started swaying to the music again. You felt a feeling rise up in your chest, a feeling you hadn’t felt for Peter in many years.

“It wasn’t just the prom.” You admitted before you could think about it.

“It wasn’t? What else did I do? Did I hotbox the elevator with you in it or something?” He asked. “I did that to Wanda once and now she’ll show up in my dreams sometimes and make me pee the bed.”

“That’s disgusting.” You said flatly. “But no. It wasn’t that.”

“Then what?” He wondered.

“It’s stupid. You’ll just laugh again.”

“No I won’t.” He assured you. “Probably. I’ll definitely try really hard not to.

“Come on. Please tell me.” He pleaded and gave your hip a gentle squeeze. “You have to tell me now or I’ll become so annoying so quickly. I’ll be worse than those people who try to describe SNL skits to you and keep explaining even when it’s clearly only funny if you’re watching it.”

“I can’t tell you. It’s dumb anyway. Forget I said anything.” You said and hoped he’d drop it.

“It can’t be that dumb if it stood between us all these years. What, did you have a crush on me or something?” He laughed through his question. You went quiet and Peters eyes went wide.

“Oh shit. Did you have a crush on me?” He asked in a soft voice. You looked down at the ground to avoid having to look him in the eyes now that you were caught.

“I don’t know.” You sighed. “You were my age and had these cool powers and muscles and unexpected sense of humor. I was homeschooled and had swiped to the end of Tinder. You were my only option.”

“Oh. I see. So you only liked me because I was the only choice?” He said through a laugh but it hurt him. You could sense in his voice that you had just hurt his feelings and for once, that wasn’t what you wanted.

“I mean, not the only choice.” You added. “Cap used to hang around a lot more and he’s not the worst looking. But he’s like 500 so I never really had a chance.”

“Why me, then?” He wondered. You finally looked in to his eyes and shrugged a little.

“Because you were kind.” You admitted. “You didn’t need to take on as much as what you did at such a young age but you refused to do the easy stuff. You used to drive my dad crazy with how for you begged for assignments. You were so determined to get out there and save people, it was almost obnoxious. You were never content getting back stolen bikes. You always wanted to protect people from the big things. Even when you were just a kid. I liked that about you. I still do.”

“Still?” He gulped. “Even now?”

Before you could respond, the slow music that was playing ended and “Munch” started to blast from Peter phone. He scrambled to change the song but the moment had already been ruined.

“Sorry about that. I don’t know who put that on my playlist.” He quickly lied.

“It was you.”

“It was me, yeah.” He admitted and hung his head in shame. You stopped dancing and slowly withdrew your arms from him, making his heart sink.

“This was really sweet. Thank you, Peter.” You said genuinely. “I should probably get to bed now. I just want this day to end.”

“But we haven’t frosted the cake yet. It’s still your birthday. You can’t go to bed without any cake.” He said in a desperate attempt to get you to stay.

“I don’t know. It’s late.”

“Come on. It’ll be fast. That’s one of my powers. Spider can frost cake really fast and so can I.” He said and rushed over to the cake. He held it up and gave you a lopsided smile, convincing you to stay.

“Fine. Let’s make it fast.” You agreed and walked over to him. He smiled at you joining him and got out the frosting. He handed you a spatula and you started to frost the cake.

“You don’t have to keep wearing that if you don’t want.” Peter chuckled and went to take your crown off. You quickly swatted his hand and adjusted your crown.

“Back off. It’s mine.” You said and stepped away from him. He chuckled again and you laughed too.

“I really do appreciate everything you did for me tonight. I hope I can make it up to you one day.” You told him.

“You can make it up to me right now if we clear off this counter top and-“

“No.” You cut him off.

“Worth a try.” He mumbled.

“Really, though. You cheered me up tonight and I didn’t think that was possible.”

“In a way, I’m glad your stupid friends cancelled on you. It gave us an opportunity to spend time together. And this was the least I could do for not taking you to my real prom. Which was total buns, by the way. I missed most of it because I was putting my dates dad in jail.”

“Well I’m glad that didn’t happen tonight.” You laughed softly.

“Me either. I wish I took you to the first one. We could have been friends this whole time if I had just remembered my promise.” He sighed.

“It’s fine. It was a long time ago. I’m done moping about it. I’m ready to eat this cake and be friends from now on.”

“I’m ready for that too.” He smiled at you. “Especially the part about us being friends. But also for this cake because it’s kinda giving me a boner from how good it smells.”

“It does smell really good. I can’t even blame your boner. But if that thing even looks at me you’re getting impromptu gender reassignment surgery with this spatula.”

“Ouch.” He chuckled and looked over at you. He didn’t stop looking at you until you felt his eyes on you.

“What?” You laughed shyly.

“I can’t believe you ever liked me. And that this whole time, I had no idea. I am so not cool enough for a girl like you to like.”

“Yeah, well. It wasn’t like I dropped any hints.”

“Maybe not. It just doesn’t feel real. I wouldn’t believe it even if you weren’t always mean to me. You reciprocating my feelings was not something I ever thought would happen.”

“Reciprocating? You liked me too?” You asked as your mouth went dry.

“Are you kidding? You’re my mentors insanely hot and totally off limits daughter. Of course I liked you. Not to mention you’re funny, smart, good with a screwdriver and the apparently my biggest supporter. Though you did it in secret. Make no mistake, birthday girl. I had the biggest crush on you for years. Even when you were being mean to me.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.” You said quietly. You had your back to him as you washed your hands but you could feel his eyes on you. You peaked over your shoulder and sure enough, Peter’s eyes were locked on you. You gulped and turned back around when you heard him walking over to you.

“You know, as mean as your insults were, they were always clever. And you always looked good saying them. How could I not fall for you?” He said as he came up behind you. He was close enough that you could smell his cologne, along with a scent that was just distinctly Peter, making your heart pound in your ears. You turned around and leaned against the counter as you looked into his eyes.

“Well how do you feel now?” You asked with unwavering eye contact.

“I feel like those feelings never left.” He admitted. You had never heard such confidence in his voice and it was just the thing to tip the scales back in his favor.

“Hm. Interesting.” You shrugged and turned back around. It was almost like you could hear the disappointment in the air once you had your back to him again. You decided not to torture him forever and give in to what you both wanted.

“Peter?” You asked and looked over your shoulder at him.

“Yeah?”

“Clear the countertop.”

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

 @officialsimppage @itsemohours

@tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison  

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

[r4fe-cam3ron]

Ok, a request for something angsty with Eddie:

You're Eddie's best friend, you have a lot in common with him, you like the same things, you're a nerd metalhead girl, and you want to invite him to prom and confess what you feel for him, but he tells you that he already invited another girl (maybe a kind of popular girl?) who was his lab partner. You choose the ending 👀

an; hi okay hello thank you for this. you’re the best. but also …. are you in my mind. i live for these type of angsty, lovesick, teenage years. w; doesn’t follow st timeline.

you’d met eddie in middle school — a skinny boy who had a buzzcut. sort of weird, you’d watched him many, many times during lunch, his laugh all but crazy as he and his friends made…slop from the cafeteria food.

mashed potatoes turned into a marsh with chocolate milk poured on top, the chicken nuggets that tasted stale and told served as ‘dinosaurs’ and the broccoli was propped into the mashed potato marsh as trees.

again, eddie munson was anything but normal — he was strange, funny, and smart (when he was actually applying himself to his work). a true artist as well — his journal had been filled with monsters from a new game, Dungeons & Dragons is what you’d heard him called it.

you’d made a passing complement on it once. a nice, ‘that’s cool, eddie.’ that passing comment was soon the start of a growing friendship between two kids in seventh grade.

two kids who were growing awkwardly in their uncomfortable bodies, where the mind couldn’t comprehend things at times — like, where did that zit come from? or even why did you suddenly need to keep going to the bathroom after every class once a week every month?

he’d learned quickly why.

but growing together and staying close through high school, you both had begun to understand feelings and thoughts more.

you’d begun to understand why you’d get nervous every time you were alone with eddie, why your hands would get clammy and why your throat would get dry.

you wouldn’t say anything. not yet. maybe not ever.

but you did know one thing; you wanted to go to prom with your best friend. it was something you both had made fun of at the beginning of high school, something for popular kids who only used daddy’s money to get whatever they wanted.

then as you watched eddie grow into himself — a boy who had once a buzzcut had grown his hair out, surprisingly curly. he wasn’t as shy before, but any of the slight hesitation he’d hold before doing something questionable was never there anymore.

like yelling across the cafeteria. cutting class to smoke under the bleachers. selling in the woods behind the school.

eddie munson was different in your eyes.

you’re trying hard to find the courage to ask him to prom. there’s a pizza on the coffee table, a beer bottle in his hand while your bottle of cherry coke leaves behind a wet mark on the table from the small droplets of water that drip down slowly.

clearing your throat, you shift on the couch. eddie’s eyes drift away from the television to you instead, lifting a brow. “you alright over there?”

“hm?” you look at him. oh. he’s so pretty. “oh, yeah. i’m good. just…watching the movie.”

eddie stares at you for a moment longer, letting out a small huff as he places his beer to the side. “oh, i asked vanessa to prom.” he says suddenly.

like it was nothing.

you watch as he reaches for another slice of pizza, blinking, and suddenly he’s already leaning back into the worn cushions of the couch, taking a bite of the pizza.

pinching your brows together, you shake your head. “the…one on the cheerleading team?” the pretty one who was always kind to everyone. the thought has your heart sinking, the feeling of a knot already forming in your throat.

which is stupid of you to already cry over something so small.

“yeah,” he nods. wiping the grease from the corner of his mouth. “we’re lab partners in science. she’s…nice. pretty.” he smiles a bit.

“oh…i thought…” he looks over at you, tilting his head slightly. “well, i just thought we would’ve went together,” his brows lift slightly.

you’re quick to cover yourself. “i mean, we made a pact to go together when we started high school to make fun of everyone who went.”

scoffing out a laugh, he shakes his head. “that was freshman year,” he pushes at your arm. “besides, you wouldn’t want to actually go. even if you did, you wouldn’t want to go with me.”

staying silent, you stare at him, lips pulled into a slight frown. the bite he’s about to take is forgotten when he slowly glances over at you.

lowering his hand, he sits up a bit straighter. “you didn’t want to go, right?”

pursing your lip, your head turns as you shake it. standing from the couch, you reach to grab your coat and bag from the ground. “it’s getting late. i need to get home.”

your quick on your feet as you walk over to the door, shoving your feet into your shoes. the door opens with a creak as you yank it open, quickly walking down the rickety steps.

the porch door creaks and slams shut a minute later. “hey, wait! why are you— let me drive you home at least.”

“no. i want to ride my bike,” you’re struggling with the padlock, a wave of anger and confusion washing over you as you pull at it. “why won’t this thing…”

eddie watches you with a frown. he says your name softly, a hand wrapping around your wrist. “i’m going to drive you home. it too dark and late for you to be riding home by yourself.”

clenching your jaw, you nod once. “i’ll come back and get my bike later.” you pull away from him quickly, walking towards his van.

you’re confused on why you’re feeling so much. confused why something so mundane makes you upset. angry because your confused. angry because he’s acting as if it doesn’t matter.

you don’t spare him a glance when he gets inside the van. you turn towards the door, resting your head against the window.

you’re quick to unbuckle when you see your house, reaching for your bag.

“i didn’t think it meant that much to you,” he suddenly speaks, causing your fingers to grip around the door handle. “the pact, i mean. if i would’ve known i would—”

“it doesn’t matter, eddie,” you shake your head. “it’s something stupid to get upset over anyway.”

“but it’s not. if it’s something that bothers you that much.”

letting out a small scoff with a laugh mingled in between, you shake your head. “that’s not even the reason i’m upset. i thought you and i would’ve went together anyway,” you finally look over at him. “wanting to go and make fun of people at prom isn't something that appeals me anymore. i just…”

pausing, your eyes trace over his features before staring back at his eyes. “i just wanted to go with you. i wanted to be with you.”

opening his mouth, eddie begins to speak. but you’re already opening the door and stepping out of the van, making your way towards the door.

eddie watches quietly, a small frown on his face. the door closes behind yourself, yet he still finds himself sitting outside your home for the next thirty minutes.

—

an old record plays as you read, some candy wrappers on your nightstand, fresh out of the shower in new clothing and a freshly cleaned bedroom.

it’s prom day. and even though you could’ve asked someone, you didn’t.

so, a productive day was in store. cleaning, dancing on small breaks, keeping your mind from wondering on how eddie might’ve looked tonight.

your parents were gone for the night — new shifts being picked up.

it was perfect. maybe.

hearing the doorbell, you perk up suddenly, rolling off the bed to slip on your slippers. the oversized shirt your wear slips off your shoulder slightly as you make your way down the steps.

grabbing the money that had been slipped into the bowl by the door for you, you open the door. “hi. it was—”

you pause when you see eddie in front of you. a pressed suit on, his hair in a low bun. he’s clean shaven, some sort of new cologne lingers on him.

“what are you doing here? your supposed to be at prom.”

“i—” eddie stares at you, watching as your brows furrow together slightly. the worry lines on your forehead deepen causes his heart to skip a beat, his chest slightly heaving as his palms grow clammy.

you look almost unreal. the light on the porch shines inside just right, highlighting your face. something catches in his throat as he steps over the threshold, pressing his lips against yours as his hands cradle your face.

your eyes are wide, hands raised in the air. eddie hasn’t pulled away and suddenly, you’re all too aware of what’s happening. the shock slowly settling as your eyes slowly close and hands lower to his shoulders.

he steps closer this time, one of his hands tangling into your hair as his thumb drags slowly across your cheekbone.

pulling away slowly, he watches as your head lowers, his lips grazing against your forehead. “what are you doing?”

“i couldn’t stop thinking about you,” his voice is soft, melted into something sweet. “that’s not anything new. i always think about you,”

you’re quick to look up at him once again. “i just…feelings are something that scares me. and when i realized how i felt about you,” his hand cups your cheek again, shaking his head. “how i truly felt, it scared me. i didn’t…couldn’t want to ruin something good.”

“eddie—”

“no,” he cuts you off. “i should’ve told you. i shouldn’t have kept you wondering for so long, im sorry. i’m so sorry,” he breathes, pressing another kiss to your lips.

your overwhelmed in both a good and bad way. he pulls away quickly, shaking his head again. “i couldn’t stop thinking about you. i love you,” he nods this time, pressing his forehead against your own. “i love you.”

closing your eyes slowly, your hands slide down his arm to wrap around his wrist softly. his nose nudges against yours, his lips grazing yours.

turning your head, your lips press a kiss to his palm softly before opening your eyes slowly. you glance at him, pressing another kiss to his other palm.

“i love you too, eddie,” you nod. “but this isn’t something i want you to be rash about. something that you’re just—”

“i’m not,” he cuts you off quickly. “i’m not being rash just because of the other night. it hurts. i dream about you every night. the home we have. the…” his breath is shaky.

“the kids we have. it feels real to me. it is real,” he nods. “this is real.” he whispers.

you stare at him quietly, before suddenly nodding. cupping his jaw, you press a kiss to his lips, pressing your forehead against his.

“this is real.” you whisper softly.

[5xlwriter]

Feedist Kinktober: Magic Mirror

Intended to be part of a series of one-shots in response to @fatguarddog’s Feedist Kinktober 2024 prompts, but I loved the prompt and it became a much bigger story than I expected. The prompt was Magic Mirror.

I had mixed feelings about Theo moving in with me. We’d met several years ago through a friend of a friend, and he and his boyfriend Luca were invited to a lot of the same parties as me. I never really clicked with Luca… He was incredibly good looking and obsessively sculpted his body at the gym, giving him the look of an Adonis. But he knew he was gorgeous and used it as an excuse to treat people poorly.

Theo was different. He was smart, funny and exceptionally kind. For the most part, I was super excited for the memories we’d make together, and it would be great to save some money by splitting rent. But on the other hand, Theo was… kind of needy. He had criminally low self-esteem, and needed constant reassurance from his friends — especially now that Luca had dumped him. That was the reason he was now living in my spare room.

He’d moved in several weeks ago, and it was largely going well. I loved our daily movie nights and it was nice to share meals with someone. Theo was just as much of a neat freak as me, so it really didn’t feel like a burden having him around. If anything, the apartment was cleaner than ever… But his constant self-doubt was really driving me insane.

“Are you sure the food tastes OK?”, he’d ask after cooking our dinner. “We can turn this movie off if you’re not enjoying it,” he’d apologise just ten minutes into a film. Worst of all was the daily routine of having to reassure him that he looked good before he left the house. “Does my hair look weird?” he’d ask, fretting in the mirror as he adjusted his perfectly coiffed dark hair. “Is this zit noticeable?” he’d press, drawing my attention to a perfectly clear patch of skin. And most infuriating of all: “Do these pants make me look fat?”

Theo was thin as a rail. He was just one of those guys who were blessed with a superhuman metabolism as well as the self-discipline to be really careful about what he ate. Here he was, pushing 30, with not an ounce of fat on his frame. I envied him - I was fit myself, but I had to work really hard in the gym for it. My work as a personal trainer helped with that.

I was being harsh. Theo was a great roommate and an even better friend. I just wished he liked what he saw when he looked in the mirror.

And that’s exactly what I told the old lady behind the counter at Miss Mabel’s Curios & Antiques, a dusty little store downtown that I’d passed by a billion times. I wasn’t sure why I was here - I’d been ranting to a friend about my predicament with Theo, and she’d said that Miss Mabel would know what to do. At my whit’s end, I trusted her recommendation.

“Oh, that’s easy my boy,” she said in a creaky little voice as she jumped down from her stool. She was a small lady, wearing what looked like at least ten cardigans and her messy grey hair tied in a bun atop her head. She had a warm and eccentric charm about her; not quite like a grandma, but moreso like a distant elderly aunt who you saw at the occasional family function.

She tottered off down one of the store’s aisles, before looking back over her shoulder expectantly. “Well, come on then!” she beckoned, and I quickly followed her. We soon stopped in front of a large rectangular object, as tall as I was and concealed under a dust sheet which Miss Mabel promptly whipped off.

It was a mirror - and an old one at that. The glass was in reasonably good condition but the frame - decorated with intricate carvings of daffodils - was in a sorry state, with chunks of wood missing and deep scars across the surface. What on earth did Miss Mabel think I could achieve with this?

“Don’t be so dense, dearie,” she teased, tapping me on the forehead. “This is a magic mirror. Give it to your friend, it’ll sort him right out.”

I had more than a few reservations, most of them related to the small fact that I didn’t believe in magic mirrors - or any kind of magic, actually. And yet, Miss Mabel seemed very certain and there was no hint of trickery in her kind eyes. Plus, when I noticed the £10 price tag on the mirror, it dissolved any concerns I had that this could be a con. That was an absolute steal, even if the mirror had seen better days. I paid her the money and headed for the door, before Miss Mabel called after me.

“Just a wee warning, dearie,” she said hesitantly. “Magic, especially old magic like that, can be unpredictable. Keep an eye on your friend, hm?”

I nodded, and made my way home.

Theo was delighted with the mirror, which I thought was an odd response to something that looked like I’d rescued it from a dump. He might have been unsure at first, raising an eyebrow when I revealed its new location hung in our hallway, but as soon as he looked into it I watched his face change. There was a light in his eyes as they lingered longer than normal on his reflection, and I saw his mouth curl into a smile. That never happened. Maybe the mirror really was magic… In any case, it seemed to do the trick, and I went to bed that evening quietly confident that Theo was going to be a little softer on himself.

When I woke up the following morning, it was to the smell of bacon. Weird, I thought. We usually just had toast for breakfast, or maybe a smoothie. But I certainly wasn’t going to complain! God, Theo was the best roommate I’d ever had…

As I walked out into the hallway, Theo was looking at himself in the mirror and flexing his non-existent muscles. I raised an eyebrow but said nothing, heading through to the kitchen. The bacon was looking very dark in the pan, much crispier than I liked it, and none of the bread for our sandwiches had been buttered.

“Theo, this bacon is looking very done,” I called out to him. He didn’t answer. “Theo?” I called again.

“Ugh, what?” he snapped back in a tone I’d never heard him use before, though he quickly seemed to catch his rude behaviour. “Oh, um, I’m sorry,” he said, scrambling for words but not taking his eyes off his reflection. “Would you mind finishing off breakfast for me?” He asked. “I’m kinda busy.”

He was acting strange, but I tried my best not to overthink it and did as I was asked, slathering some butter on the four slices of bread and transferring the bacon into two sandwiches.

“It’s ready,” I said, and headed to the fridge. That’s weird, I thought. There was no milk left to make our coffees, even though I’d bought some yesterday. And why had Theo put the empty carton back in the fridge? I poured us two glasses of orange juice instead.

At that moment, Theo walked into the kitchen without saying a word, and then left again with the bacon sandwiches. Both of them. And when I gave chase to confront him about it, expecting to find him sat in the living room, I was stopped dead in my tracks. He was stood in the hallway, stuffing the sandwiches into his mouth with eyes fixed on the mirror, like he was watching TV.

I heard Miss Mabel’s warning in my head. Keep an eye on your friend… Something was wrong.

Later that day, I’d rushed over to Miss Mabel’s shop to get her advice - but when I arrived, the lights were off and the door was locked. That’s when I noticed the sign, handwritten in spidery penmanship: “ON VACATION! SIX WEEKS IN EGYPT! SEE YOU SOON DEARIES. MMx”. There was a little drawing of some pyramids in the bottom corner. Fuck.

I didn’t want to mess with the mirror, since I figured if it really was magic then I had no clue how it might affect Theo. Just a glance had changed his behaviour dramatically, who knew what else it could do? And so I reasoned that the best thing to do would be to wait for Miss Mabel to return, and in the meantime to follow her advice and keep an eye on him. After all, he wasn’t exactly a danger or in any pain - he was just acting… different. Little did I know, he’d soon be looking different too…

***

It had started after a few days. The novelty of the mirror seemed to have worn off for Theo, and he no longer spent all day in front of it like he did that first day. But he was still acting differently, and I’d still catch him checking himself out in it multiple times a day. This particular evening, we were sat in front of the TV while Theo ate dinner. Since buying the mirror, Theo only prepared food for himself, but I’d planned to heat up my leftovers from yesterday so that we could eat together. I was feeling distant from him and thought it would be a good chance to chat. Except, when I opened the fridge, I found they were gone, no doubt eaten by my strange new roommate. So I reluctantly ordered a pizza, and sat with Theo as I waited for it to arrive.

Theo didn’t appear to be in the mood for a chat, his eyes glued to the TV while he shovelled heaping forkfuls of creamy pasta into his mouth, chewing loudly. It was like someone else had taken over his body. Most weird of all was his choice of programming - usually, we might watch a documentary together, or catch up on one of our regular dramas. And he’d always ask what I wanted to watch. But today we were watching a home shopping network, with a musclebound (and very attractive) jock demonstrating some workout equipment.

“Oh come on Theo,” I teased, trying to make conversation. “He’s hot, sure, but surely there’s something else we can watch?”

Theo looked at me with a look of utter incomprehension, even pausing his feeding frenzy to process what I’d just said. I felt like I’d offended him. He shoved another fork in his mouth and finally spoke as he chewed.

“That man ain’t hot,” he said, spraying me with flecks of cream before swallowing. “He’s got nothing on me. And look at all the exercise he’s gotta do just to have those puny muscles. Mine are twice as big and are all natural.”

Now it was my turn to look confused. Surely Theo was joking? He had no muscle whatsoever… He was practically a skeleton. Except… Now that I looked at him, I mean really looked at him, that wasn’t quite true…

He was… Not “bigger”, per se… he certainly didn’t look like he’d gained any muscle. But he was… softer, somehow. It was almost imperceptible, a thin coating over his whole body, a slight puffiness… But now that I’d noticed it, there was no denying it. For a moment, I reasoned that it was natural for someone so thin to put on a couple of pounds, considering how much Theo had been stuffing his face these last few days. But then, as he finished his huge bowl of pasta and made his way over to the mirror for his routine post-meal quality time with his reflection, curiosity got the better of me and I peeked into the hallway to watch.

He stood tall and proud, flexing non-existent muscles as though he were a world-champion body builder. And then, most alarmingly of all, I saw him grow.

It happened so slowly I couldn’t even be sure it was really happening, but as I fixed my eyes on his form there was no denying it. His arms were thickening and filling out his sleeves a little more, while the slight softness at his waist began to press against his shirt. Within a few minutes he looked to be about 5lbs heavier - not a big deal for most people, but certainly noticeable on Theo’s lithe frame. My mouth was wide open in shock. This just wasn’t possible. It had to be my eyes playing tricks on me, my imagination getting the better of me… I was just stressed out by Theo’s personality transplant… I…

The doorbell rang, and Theo ignored it, too preoccupied with his reflection. “That’ll be my pizza,” I said, getting to my feet. No sooner had I said it, Theo eagerly answered the door and brought in the pizza, setting it down in before me on the coffee table. I felt an odd sense of relief - this was the kind of attentive behaviour I was used to from Theo. Maybe the magic was wearing off… Maybe my old roommate wasn’t gone after all.

I went to the kitchen to get some drinks (water for me, a glass of milk for Theo) and returned to the living room, where I found Theo already halfway through devouring my pizza.

***

It had been a week since I brought home the mirror, and I was pretty adjusted now to Theo’s newfound greed and selfishness. I found it difficult to get angry with him when I discovered the fridge cleared out or a stack of dirty dishes in the sink - I was the one who had brought the mirror into our home; I was the one who’d meddled because I couldn’t deal with Theo needing a little extra encouragement.

When I got home from work each day, I would typically find Theo in one of two places: sat on the couch stuffing his face, or flexing and pouting in the dreaded mirror. This time, it was the latter.

God, he’d really blown up now. It was all happening so quickly and every time I saw him he looked to be bigger than the time before. I had accepted the impossible fact that the mirror was piling the pounds onto my friend; even now, as I watched him admiring himself, I watched in real time as Theo’s new soft underbelly slowly inched out the bottom of his shirt. He’d always dressed in oversized clothing, but now everything he owned was starting to get very snug on his oversized body.

“My god, I’m gorgeous,” he said aloud. “Luca doesn’t know what he’s missing.” he said, kissing his own soft bicep. “I haven’t been to the gym all week and my guns are looking better than ever!”

I smiled politely, but I was worried. Miss Mabel was still out of town for another five weeks, and I guessed that Theo must have already stacked on about 50lbs. You didn’t need to be a maths genius to figure out that he risked ending up over 400lbs by the time she was able to help us break the spell. If she was able to help us. Theo still stood a chance of working this off now, but if things got that far… he’d be changed forever.

“Theo, can we talk?” I asked. He huffed a little, clearly annoyed to be pulled away from the mirror, but reluctantly followed me into the living room.

***

It had been two weeks since my conversation with Theo, and things were still intensely frosty between us. I’d asked him if he was OK, and he’d insisted he was never better. I’d asked him if he’d noticed any changes in his behaviour, and he’d said he’d just realised that he needed to put himself first. I’d asked him if he’d noticed any changes in his body, and he agreed that yes, he’d been growing lately - that his muscles were inexplicably growing. He couldn’t explain it, he said, but he was happy with the results.

I gently tried to explain that it didn’t look that way to me, that I thought he might have been bulking with how much he’d been eating, but with the right cut he’d be looking awesome in no time… That sent him into a rage. We had a huge argument. He’d screamed at me - was I fucking blind? Did I not see how perfect his body was? I was just jealous - and then he stormed out, softer ass bouncing behind him in too-tight shorts. Since then, we hadn’t really spoken, and things were getting so much worse…

He was really big now. Like, he was a certified fat guy, a fully fledged 300 pounder - or maybe more? It was difficult to tell. Every time I saw him, I had to do a double take: firstly, because my brain wasn’t quite catching up with his skyrocketing weight and was failing to register this figure as my roommate. And secondly, because he’d outgrown all his clothes and taken to wandering the apartment in just a pair of boxer briefs. They were so tight on him that the elastic waistbands had all developed wide holes.

His choice of dress meant that all his fresh fat was on full display, a constant reminder of what I’d brought upon him by bringing home the mirror. His face was round and bloated, making his eyes look beady and piggish above two puffed-out cheeks. Beneath it was a thick ring of fat, a double chin that was exaggerated when he looked down at his phone. His shoulders had become strikingly broad, though not with the muscle he was still convinced he possessed; they rounded out and sloped like big hills, bunching up behind his neck in another wedge of fat that gave him the look of a hunchbacked office worker. Further down, two plump tits hung from his chest, pooling under his armpits and gathering in thick rolls on his back. They were so distracting; jiggling wildly with every slight movement he made, it was impossible to look away. And beneath them sat the main event: a big, soft belly that had started to hang down over his crotch like a flabby apron. Whilst not as jiggly as his tits (perhaps because it was always full of food), it still looked soft and plush, wobbling as he waddled around the apartment. He’d even started to walk like a fat guy, I noticed, swinging his fat arms side to side to offset his sudden weight gain.

I felt terrible. And as I watched him posing yet again in the mirror, having just demolished a family-sized tray of pasta as a snack between meals, I felt even more terrible. The mirror would be working its sinister magic on him and turning all that food into fat. Sure enough, as if to prove a point, I heard a ripping sound and noticed one of the holes in his underwear growing beneath his widening hips. I had to do something.

***

I resolved to get rid of the mirror. I’d known all along it was the right thing to do, but I was scared of Theo’s reaction. He was so volatile. Part of me was also scared of how it might affect him - had he and the mirror formed some kind of magic bond? What would happen if that was severed? But as my friend’s weight inched closer to 400lbs with each day, I knew I had to do something. But the issue was now pressing, as I was due to leave on a trip I’d booked myself months ago. I was going to be gone for two weeks, and while I certainly wasn’t in the mood to go now, I’d already paid a lot of money and it wasn’t exactly like I could wave a wand and stop all this. What good could I possibly do here? In fact, Theo seemed to resent me the more I tried to help. But I could still hear Miss Mabel’s warning that I ought to keep an eye on him, ringing around my head. I reasoned that if I could get the mirror out of the way and then disappear myself for a couple of weeks, maybe that would at least slow whatever was happening to my friend.

And so, when Theo was out getting food, I made my move, carefully taking the mirror off the wall and making my way to the door. Before I could reach it, it opened of its own accord… and there in the doorway was Theo. Fuck. He was so big now that it was impossible not to be intimidated by him, even if he did look ridiculous squeezed into clothes that he was 150lbs too big for. He was visibly uncomfortable, all the fabric digging into his fat, which burst unflatteringly out of every opening. His belly was barely covered by the material, making it look like he was wearing a crop top, and several inches of his ass crack were visible, not able to be contained by the sweatpants that were painted onto his thick, gelatinous thighs. I couldn’t believe he’d left the house like this, but I suppose it was better that than parading around in his underwear. Anyone who saw him must have thought he was totally unaware of his weight, or that he had suddenly ballooned overnight. They would have had no idea how close to the truth they were…

“What the fuck are you doing with that?” he snarled, snatching the mirror off me with one meaty, fat-fingered hand while the other shoved the remaining half of a burger into his mouth. He seemed to swallow it in one gulp. A thick blob of ketchup dripped onto his stretched and strained t-shirt.

I was still frozen, unable to say or do anything. He barged past me, making his way to his bedroom. He re-emerged a few seconds later, no longer carrying the mirror. It would seem he would be keeping it in there from now on. “Don’t touch my shit,” he warned in a terrifyingly severe tone and then tipped a container of fries into his mouth, dropping the empty packet on the floor. I nodded emphatically.

Without hesitation, he tried to peel off his t-shirt but found himself met with great difficulty. He squirmed and writhed his fat body, trying to manoeuvre himself out of the fabric, but it was simply too tight. I had no idea how he’d even got it on… perhaps he’d grown in the time since? Without warning, he let out a yell of frustration and then tore the entire thing off him in one furious motion. “And another thing,” he spat, turning his broad back to me and making his way back into his room. “Stop washing my clothes, I’m sick of you fucking shrinking everything.”

***

The two weeks away had been a complete waste. I was barely able to relax or take in any of the culture, constantly worried about my friend back home. In truth, I wanted to disconnect from Theo. I’d tried to help him change course and he was treating me so terribly… It was hard to care about him. But I couldn’t shake the guilt - it was me that had caused this, and I owed it to Theo to make it right. Besides, this wasn’t really Theo who was acting this way. It had to be something or someone else… Perhaps he was possessed, or hypnotised, or… It couldn’t have changed him, could it? And certainly not so dramatically? But then I remembered the giant, flabby ass that he was no doubt sat on back home, stuffing his fat face, and I knew that it could… I just hoped there was some kind of counter-magic that Miss Mabel could use to undo all this, to make it like it never happened. It was magic after all, right? I’d learned that anything was possible…

After pausing a while outside the apartment door, unsure of the reception I’d receive from my roommate upon my return, I finally pushed it open. One thing I was sure of was the condition I’d find Theo in. I had no doubt in my mind that he would be weighing in another 100lbs heavier than when I’d left, and I’d braced myself for the sight of him. I assumed he’d be sat in the living room, shovelling food into his growing gut - and this suspicion was supported by the volume of fast food wrappers strewn through the hallway. It was disgusting, looking and smelling like a back alley in the city. I couldn’t believe this was my home. But when I peered into the living room, I found nothing there other than more mess. The TV was off and Theo was nowhere to be seen. Hmm… strange… I glanced to where the mirror used to hang, and then to his bedroom. Perhaps he was holed up in there, checking himself out?

Morbid curiosity got the better of me, and I cautiously approached the door, knocking gingerly and calling out his name. “Theo?”

He didn’t respond, but I could hear strange noises coming from within. It sounded like laboured, heavy breathing. Was Theo fucking someone? Or getting himself off? I listened closer - no, it wasn’t that, the breathing was so erratic, gasping for air… He sounded like he was in trouble. I became alarmed. “Theo, are you OK?”

I flung the door open and my world ground to a halt. Theo was not OK.

Theo’s room was a complete pig sty, piled high with empty pizza boxes and food containers. It stank of sweat and grease and god knows what else, the stench so thick in the air I had to cover my nose. He’d propped up the mirror at the end of his bed, presumably so he could lay in it and admire himself… And the consequences of that decision were enormous.

Literally enormous. Theo was totally unrecognisable, his pale pink flesh filling the entire double bed. He was the fattest man I’d ever seen - perhaps the fattest man that had ever been? His facial features were buried under fat; just two beady eyes and a pair of puckered, sauce-stained lips. If I wasn’t aware of all that had passed in the last few weeks, I would never be able to identify this person as Theo. He was completely transformed. His whole body was splattered with various sauces that he had clearly dribbled on mid-feast… which made sense. He was clearly too big to move and showering would have been impossible.

The blob of a man that lay gasping for air in Theo’s bed was almost as wide as he was tall. It’s difficult to describe any part of him in detail, as all his body parts sort of squished together and melded into one another, fat jostling for space. His tits were each bigger than my head, and there were bits of food wedged in his deep cleavage. His arms were so pumped full of fat that I think they were bigger than my waist. I couldn’t see much of his legs as they were covered by his gargantuan belly, rolling and rocking like jelly with each pained breath, but even his feet were swollen with fat, threatening to be swallowed up into his legs. Fuck, I thought to myself. How could someone have fat toes?

I wanted to say something but my brain was completely fried. What the fuck do you say to a whale who was thin as a beanpole little more than a month ago? Theo looked like a fucking sideshow attraction. Fortunately, he spoke first.

“Dude, thank god — you’re here—“ he wheezed. What? Was he actually happy to see me? Maybe the magic had worn off! My hopes were short lived... “Nobody— wants— to deliver— my food,” he confessed. “Bunch of— fucking— assholes…”

I could see why minimum wage delivery drivers would want to avoid this cesspit. Something told me the new Theo was not a generous tipper. But this was my fault after all, and I couldn’t let him starve. Reluctantly I agreed to go pick him something up - if nothing else it would give me time to think over what to do next. I watched him with pity as he placed the pickup order on his phone, his fat sausage fingers mashing things he didn’t mean to press. He didn’t seem to be removing any of those items from his basket, though…

Soon enough I was back at the apartment with ten paper bags full to the brim with junk. They were as fit to burst as he was, and after handing them over I sat on the edge of the bed (squeezing myself onto the only unoccupied corner I could find) and buried my head in my hands. What was I going to do?

He made short work of the meal and half an hour later he was burping, rubbing his giant gut, and admiring himself in the mirror. “Fuck— I’m so— sexy,” he moaned. “Why— did I ever— settle— for Luca? I’m so— out— of his— league… Gotta find— me someone— as hot— I am…”

I snapped. “Theo, how the fuck are you gonna do that?! You’re as big as a fucking house! You can’t even get out of bed!” I wanted to smack him out of his delusional daydream. But it wasn’t fair to take my frustration out on him, and I tried to calm myself. This wasn’t his fault.

“Yes I— fucking— can,” he gasped. “I’m just— resting— so my— muscles— can grow…”

There was silence between us for a moment. I had no idea what to say, and Theo was too distracted by caressing his own lard in the mirror for a conversation. But as he groped himself, his moaning got louder and more… sensual… I was no longer certain that it was just a symptom of discomfort from his overindulgence. He seemed to be enjoying himself…

“Please— man—“ he begged, looking at me with pleading eyes. “Help— me— out— here… I— know— you— can’t— resist— me…”

Fortunately, I didn’t have time to take him up on his perverted offer. There was an almighty crash, and the room seemed to lift up into the air as I felt myself fall downwards. It took me a few seconds to realise what had happened: the cursed mirror had fattened Theo up so big that the bed could no longer support him, and now he and I sat on the floor, surrounded by its broken pieces. His whole body was wobbling from the impact and he looked like a giant, melted marshmallow. I was surprised he didn’t fall straight through the floor and into the apartment below.

I spotted something shiny by my hand, and on closer examination I saw it was a shard of glass. The mirror. I noticed it had fallen over face-down, and when I nervously lifted its side to inspect the damage I saw that the whole thing was shattered. Oh god, I worried to myself. How was Theo going to react?

“What— just— happened—,” Theo grunted to himself as I got to my feet and stood the mirror up. He seemed lost and confused, a softness in his voice that I recognised from before all this mess began. His eyes seemed to adjust to the room, taking in his surroundings as though he’d just woken up from a dream. “What’s— going— on—,” he gasped, shaking his head in confusion (though the fat in his neck limited his movement). Still, his cheeks jiggled as he did so. “Am— I— sick..? I— can’t— breathe…” I barely registered what he was saying, too worried about his response to finding out the mirror was broken.

“Theo,” I said, trying to steady my voice. “I’m really sorry… I’ll buy you a new one right away, but… Ugh. I don’t know how to say this, but…” I gulped. “Your mirror is broken.”

I turned the mirror around to face him, so he could see the damage for himself. For a moment he didn’t really react at all, furrowing his brow in confusion. He didn’t seem at all sure why he should care about a broken mirror, despite the fact he’d done little else for the past five weeks than stare in it and feed himself. But as he looked harder, as he really focussed his eyes on the mountain of flesh looking back at him, something seemed to click in his mind… A moment of world-shattering realisation...

He recognised himself, and his eyes went wide in horror. He screamed.

[formerlympp]

Unhappy Hour

Lily was starting to detest happy hours.

Inaptly named things they were, she’d privately started calling them misery hours. She’d have to make it her New Year’s resolution to grow a backbone and start declining the invitations. That, or stop drinking, which might be easier than saying no to kindly Muriel, her generally reserved coworker who turned into a sailor after a couple of G&Ts. After all, her inability to say no to Muriel was precisely what landed her in her current predicament.

“Why don’t you just beg off?” Mary, her roommate, called from the corner of their cramped kitchen. Lily had long thought that her backbone had been imparted to Mary, who had no qualms about shutting people down over the slightest menial transgression.

“Can’t,” Lily called back, the best she could manage without toothpaste slipping down her chin.

“Can’t or won’t? No, don’t bother answering that.” A threatening pause came next, quickly followed by the crinkling sound of paper that Lily knew meant Mary was stuffing a sweet into her mouth. “Oo’ zit, gin?”

“Muriel’s sister-in-law’s cousin’s best friend’s son. Jeff something-or-other.”

“’O no-un.”

“He’s someone surely.”

“No one to you,” Mary clarified in a slightly less muffled voice. “He’s probably no keener to meet than you are.”

“Well thanks for the vote of confidence, Mare.”

Mary appeared in the doorway just as Lily slipped her toothbrush back in its holder. The pair of friends caught each other’s eye in the mirror as Lily started unpinning the rollers from her hair.

“C’mon, since when does anyone look forward to a blind date? Speaking of, you’ve put in a fair bit of effort for this Muriel’s… sister’s… er… whoever’s son. More effort than I’d expect for someone apparently dreading her evening.”

Lily merely shrugged as a reply, uninterested in justifying her pre-date ritual. It was a good ritual, and besides, she deserved to feel like the best version of herself whenever she wanted to.

“Shit,” she exhaled, after catching a look at her watch, “I’m going to be late.”

**

Shockingly, Lily arrived at The Shack, a hip, low-lit bar—“frequented by the young people,” Muriel had told her—ten minutes earlier than the agreed-upon time. She couldn’t stop herself from studying her reflection in the dark glass windows; she brushed her fingers through the mess of curls her hair had become in transit. Breathing deeply and squaring her shoulders, she pushed her way into the bar.

Clusters of people stood every few feet, making the pathway between the tables and chairs into a labyrinth. She wove her way through, an odd determination in her step that clashed with her internal desire to walk right back out the front door. She was supposed to meet Jeff at the bar for drinks and starters and hopefully riveting conversation (Lily wasn’t holding her breath). The semi-circle bartop stretched along a large expanse of the room, barely inhabited at this time of a Friday evening, and Lily couldn’t help herself from admiring the rather nice-looking man tending the bar at the far end.

Eventually, she rounded the bar in search of Jeff, who had been described to her as: tall and handsome. (She didn’t mind a cliché now and again.) Scholarly, and a sharp dresser, if not a bit disheveled. (Whatever that meant.) Dark hair and framed glasses. (She did not mind a nice set of specs to be sure.)

Then she spotted him, sitting across from a stretch of beer taps, shoulders bowed slightly as he studied his phone. As Lily drew closer she watched him press his glasses back up his nose. Even from the admittedly shrinking distance, she could tell he would give the bartender a run for his money. For a moment, a brief, unrelenting irrational moment, excitement flooded her system; it burned in her veins, sent bubbles straight to the logical part of her brain, then—

“Hi, you must be J—” A set of hazel eyes locked with hers and her jaw dipped lower, all the buzz of excitement leaving her. “You’re not…” Jeff.

Oh no.

Oh—but, wait had it been Jeff? Maybe she had heard the wrong name—

“Oh Christ, you are the Lily that Auntie Mabel… I had no idea, Evans, I assure you.”

Of that she was fairly certain he was telling the truth. He was many things, but a liar was not among them. Besides, only an evil force in the universe could explain why out of the billions of people on this planet, Lily had been set up on a blind date with her ex-boyfriend, James Potter.

[scythegameing]

Conflicting Lives Characters as Incorrect Quotes (because why the hell not)

All quotes generated randomly from this site. also some funny characters that haven't been introduced yet :)

Joel: Having two partners is both amazing and complicated. But all our problems are solved with communication. Etho: It’s my turn to cuddle Lizzie. Joel: FIVE MORE MINUTES DAMMIT!

Joel: Aww, what's your dog's name? Scythe: Spartacus. Joel, yelling to Scar: TRY SPARTACUS! Scar, on the computer: DIDN'T WORK! Scythe: … Joel: What's your favorite number?

Scar: Are you a painting? Grian: What-? Scar: Because I want to pin you to a wall. Joel: OH GOD I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY YOU WANTED TO HANG HIMOR SOMETHING-

Scythe, talking about Ella: I would never say that my partner is a bitch and I don’t don’t like them. That’s not true… My partner is a bitch and I like them so much!

Scott: Yeah, a partner sounds nice, but a supreme enemy you can make out with in secret sometimes sounds a lot more hardcore.

*in the ZITS group chat* Tango: First one to reply is gat. Tango: *gay Tango: Wait...

*after discussing the plan in ch.2* Voidling: Does anyone have any questions? Xelqua: Is this legal? Voidling: …Does anyone have any relevant questions?

I plan on getting out a list of all the ships I have in this AU, but feel free to ask about anything in the meantime!

[dreamboundedstar]

Reaction to Advice Things Are Ad-Nice Spoilers

Okay, I should have realized they wouldn't go there because that would probably been too much of a status quo change (though would it have really been though? Come on, if Disney/Pixar movies can do it then you can too you cowards XD!) but I thought Tina was getting her period for the first time. Turns out it was just a butt zit but I'm pretty sure the fakeout was intentional on their part. Poor form Louise, Tina and me are alike. You don't not mess with us when it comes to food, especially food we specifically asked to be saved! XD I was wondering how Tina would get to be part of an advice column when I read the description for the episode. I should have known it was specifically because she was at the right place at the wrong time (or right depending on the perspective) and Mr. Frond was just done with the whole thing. Unfortunately I should have seen it coming that no one wanted to give it a try which made me really sad for Tina. It also felt a bit real for me because I definitely had a few times when I tried to put myself out there to get feedback from others only to get mostly silence. I also felt so much cringe when Louise and Linda used Tina's journal to give her advice to answer. Like, it was so public and how do you expect Tina is going to feel when her private information is out and about?! It was so amusing Bob making it clear he was not supportive in anyway of what they did and was happy to be confirmed right in his stance. lol It all worked out it in the end though I suppose. Tammy why are you like this? As a giant Zekina shipper, I was very happy for the crumbs this episode! X3 Always happy to see Zeke to be the first one to support Tina after her family. Also when Zeke said Tina was full of surprises or something like that felt like to me was basically his way of saying that she just made him like her more than he already did. XD That last part is just crazy shipper brain though. Still always cute to see Zeke be so supportive of Tina even when he didn't know he was supporting her. XD

[kaxenart]

The Ice Worm-ing

It's gonna be so large. Like I knew, but also having it slowly growing in my room is like.... oooh....

.....also someone on cults3D has a print in place ice worm which would be a lot faster but also smaller.

Decided to reprint the "face" in resin for a smoother look.

The feet definitely look nicer in resin than filament. I know a 0.2 nozzle will look smoother, but it triples the print time so it's easier to make my resin printer do anything the 0.4 nozzle doesn't do pretty enough.

My ABS is printing nicer than the PETG. My PETG is currently in the heat torture box because everyone always suggests drying filament more when it's being annoying. I thought the problem was the spool not rolling nice and tweaking that fixed most of the zits, but not all of them. Most of the errors are small enough to deal with via xacto knife and/or primer.

I also printed the BU-TT sword for Loader 4. Need to load up the clear resin for the laser effect later. I wish extra vats weren't so expensive. Sirayatech Mecha prints really smooth, sands well, and looks less translucent than a lot of other printing resins, but since it's got so much white opaque pigment or whatever, it really coats the bottom of the vat. (also it's fuckin' expensive at $60-$75 per KG ;_;)

I used to never use light supports because they had a high risk of failing, but I guess Chitubox got better at them. I've been having problems with medium supports being way too strong when I use Mecha resin, but it's perfect with light supports and sirayatech's settings for the Saturn 4 Ultra.

[dozing-marshmallow]

Hiii!

Can you maybe do a Chris McLean x male reader, Where the reader is jealous of Lindsay because how Chris reacted for her costume in super hero-id? Where all contestants must dress as superheroes. (And maybe reader is Chris assistant or something?)

Hello! Thanks for the request, enjoy! 💖

CHRIS MCLEAN X MALE! ASSISTANT READER ONE SHOT

Your boss, Chris, was someone you admired. A lot. He was someone you were ashamed to say, was somewhat a second father to you. Embarrassing, but at least there was some reason since you were in proximity with the guy twenty four seven.

He was all you wanted to be by the time you could call yourself a man. Rich, handsome, famous...

Some day, you’d take the mirror out to admire a flawless face, not to keep watch on those zits.

Sigh... Let’s hope that the new skincare routine will do something good.

You observe the contestants showcase their costumes. In total, there was Lumberwoman, Timberman, Captain Alberta, All-Seeing Eye, the Human Cricket, Super Aqua Chick, and Wonder Woman. Any one of those you’ve heard before? Thank Lindsay for that.

Though Chris said all designs had to be original, he simply allowed it and deemed her the winner.

Like that.

With a smile and pleased eyes.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You were over here breaking your back, hands and feet for your boss without a single second look, and here Lindsay was, getting praised by him without trying.

Maybe that was it. She was being herself and not forcing anything...

Yeah well, it’s hard to not force anything when I’m the one who has to heed Chris’ needs.

Not to mention, he can’t replace a contestant as easily as he can an assistant.

If I were a contestant... Would I able to impress him on challenges?

“Boss... Did you really grow up with Wonder Woman?” you needed to know. It was difficult keeping track of when Chris did give the pretty people an advantage solely for...being pretty.

“Sure I did!” he shrugs, blind to your green eye towards the red dressed girl,“Though I might have exaggerated on Lindsay’s costume just to tick off old Courtney.” he then sighs,“Her and her lawyers have been a massive pain in the butt, but at the end of the day, it’s still my show. I won’t let court men threaten my authority.”

You can’t explain the rain of relief you felt when he said that,“Oh so... You weren’t actually all that impressed by her skills? You were pretending?”

“Why? You jealous of Lindsay, (Y/N)?” he smirked, but you were cautious if it was pulled by strings.

“O-Of course not! I mean, sure she is very beautiful...” granted, she was very good at makeup, so maybe she had some concealed flaws,“And...she is talented...” All the more reason to hate yourself.

“If only someone could say the same about you.” hey, your boss wasn’t very well known for being comforting.

“Sir...”

He laughs,“What, like I lied!”

“Maybe...” you hopelessly sigh, feeling how unfair it was that you had to be so ugly. Why couldn’t you have nice hair, nice skin like Lindsay? It’s not fair,“Puberty hasn’t been the kindest to me...” it’s not fair.

“You also?“ Chris looks up at you,“Yeah, back when I was a teen, I always had at least three of those jerks laying around somewhere on my face.”

“And now you are known as one of the spunkiest guys alive.” you take Chris’ anecdote as a chance to ask for expansion on it, a possible cure. The guy did like talking about himself, so maybe he’ll slip it in,“What’s your secret, boss?”

“It’s secret for a reason.” Ah...you underestimated him,“I should have made it part of your uniform to wear make up, but eh, I like looking at your face.”

“You... You do?” that made you happier than it should’ve.

“You know when something is so hideous, it’s handsome?”

Y-Yeah? That’s not what you wanted to hear after, but you’ll take it, I guess?

“That’s the best way to describe it. But of course, good looks aren’t everything. You’ve gotta have something on the inside to make it really alive.” He could be motivational when he wanted to, which was always.

“And Lindsay has that too.” your mind kept wickedly leading you to the apparition of the “Dumb Princess”.

You didn’t notice how creeped out Chris was getting,“You seem to like bringing her up a lot, dude. Do you like her or something?”

You sigh again,“How can’t I? She’s beautiful, popular and a favourite.”

“You could be that too you know.” this was a lot of emotion from an assistant for one day,“I don’t know why you’re acting like you’re permanently disfigured bro.”

“Because that’s how it feels like, boss.” you couldn’t stop your mouth now,“Nothing I do ever works- in fact, it only seems to make my chances of ever feeling good lower. Even you yourself said that I’m only pretty because I’m so hideous. How can someone like that recover?”

Well, this was wrong. The assistant was supposed to be helping him, not the other way ‘round. He’ll stitch the wound this time though,“Dude...remember when I told you I exaggerated on Lindsay’s costume?”

“Yes?”

“I was doing that there as well when I said that. If I really thought that way, I wouldn’t have even listed you for an interview.” Chris hated having to explain his hyperboles, but the cameras weren’t on him so he’d allow it for one time.

You feel stupid,“Really?” How haven’t you installed that sarcasm detector yet?

Your boss nods, more relaxed now that he cleared the misunderstanding,“No kidding. Everyone’s timing is different, so don’t compare yourself so much.” Aw... You needed that confidence boost,“Now do me a favour and get me my usual. Therapy isn’t free and I’m dying for something to drink.”

He really was the greatest,“Right away, Chris.”

[spibberboi]

Espresso - Ch. 2

The Zit

A/N: Thank you so much for those who have been reading! I’m really enjoying writing this story for you guys! And thank you to everyone for showing your love and support! I really appreciate it!

Warnings: character death, death by radiation

Finally it was Friday. Enji closed up shop and beamed as he looked around his shop, searching for a good outfit to wear. Maybe he could wear his favorite outfit.. he had altered it over the years, making sure it would fit him as he carefully removed stitching and resewed it. No, that was too old school.. Enji sighed, walking to the back to look through his clothing wracks.

After a little bit of searching, he smiled and picked out a nice cocktail dress, one that was black, strapless and cut off right at the middle of his thighs. Quickly, the foxtail changed into it and smiled before walking to one of the floor-length mirrors to look at himself. Luckily, this one had a cutout specifically so his tail would be able to be free. “Perfect.. this seems nice for a meeting. At least for where I’m going anyways..” He said to himself, soon walking over to a display of shoes he had at the front of the store. He hummed as he looked over the shoes. Luckily, all of the display shoes were his own, so he could take them as he pleased.

He settled on a pair of black pair of Ellie’s, specifically the Diana Boot style with laces. In just a few moments, he had them on and then walked back to the mirror to look at himself. Enji beamed as he saw himself in the mirror, biting his lip as he turned a bit and looked at himself. “Daayyuuuum~ Maybe you’ll find a date tonight~”

He laughed at himself then and shook his head, rolling his eyes a bit. “Yeah right.. once they know what you are they take off running.. whatever.”

With that being said, Enji collected his truck keys and purse, then he locked all of the doors before he left.

The journey up to the Zit wasn’t too awful, being it was just in downtown Forehead. The drive was peaceful, considering it was Friday. Already though, he could see the traffic lined up by the club. Luckily, he got reserved parking for these kinda pop-up clubs and he parked, then got out and locked his truck before he got out and walked around to go inside. The music was thumping and the atmosphere was lovely. Everyone was just trying to have fun while the club lasted. Enji smiled as he weaved through the crowd, going to the bar and getting himself a drink.

He looked around, then he sighed. But that’s when he spotted one of his friends and smiled. Alejandro La Muerte, a black mold spore who was known for his work on the backstreets and underground. He ran the biggest fight championships in town, with the fighters he trained being the ones to always make it to the top.

Enji smiled as he walked over to the mold spore, punching his arm.

Alejandro gasped and turned, his two eyes looking around before he looked down and saw Enji, then he laughed and threw his arms around the virus. “Enji, my friend! It is so good to see you! Where have you been, amigo?”

Enji laughed some as he wrapped an arm around Alejandro, being careful not to spill his drink in the other. “Oh you know, around. I have a shop to run and orders to fill so you know I don’t really get to do much.”

Alejandro nodded, standing with his arm around Enji as he always did. There were no romantic feelings, but it was so funny watching people around them try and decipher if they were an item. Enji could see it on the group’s faces that had been talking to Alejandro originally, which had earned him some envious stares from some of the girls that were standing there. It just made Enji laugh.

Alejandro then excused himself and they went to a booth off in the corner, sitting down. “So, I’m assuming you’re here for that meeting?” The spore asked, tilting his head some. His cytoplasmic hair moved like a lava lamp around him and glimmered in the dim lights of the club. Enji had always wondered what it was like to be just a spore, it seemed fun. But then his attention went back to the question.

“Yeah, I heard some big shot was hosting it tonight. No one knows his name though except the boys he’s been working with.” Enji said, looking at his drink before taking a sip.

Alejandro nodded a bit and crossed his arms, sitting back in his seat. “Yeah, some of his boys are the ones I trained a few years ago. Their head honcho sits up in a private sweat gland all day, talking about the glory days ‘n shit like that.” Alejandro then leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “And I heard this dude took him out. Sliced him clean up.”

Enji’s eyes widened as he heard that before his ears laid back some. “Sliced him up? With what, a knife? Usually that doesn’t even matter, the bacteria always coagulate and reform.”

“It wasn’t with no knife, amigo.. dude’s got claws, and sharp ones at that.” Alejandro started, “The boys that witnessed it said it smelled like he burned the honcho up as he sliced ‘n diced him.”

The foxtail’s eyes widened again and he looked to his drink, thinking about a few days ago. The claws.. Thrax. An unknown virus, suddenly in the body and causing fucking havoc everywhere he went. Enji sat back and crossed his arms a bit, looking back up to Alejandro. “I think I saw this guy a couple days ago.. he ran into my shop and hid out for a bit from the cops.”

“He what?!” Alejandro exclaimed, standing up and looking at Enji with his two eyes wide. “Dude, you can’t be serious! You’ve already met this guy and he didn’t try to fuckin’ kill you?”

Enji shook his head, “Nah, he was chill. Made off with one of my shirts, but he was chill.”

Alejandro stared in disbelief. Usually viruses killed other viruses when they encounter them, but this.. was so different. The spore then sighed a bit. “Christ man.. you are so lucky. Did he say anything to you? Threaten you any?”

“No, he actually.. was being nice. I know what you’re thinkin’; viruses hate other viruses, but he.. didn’t look at me like he wanted to kill me. He looked scared.. like I was when I first got here.” Enji said, using one of his claws to stir his drink. Alejandro grimaced a bit and shook his head. “Scared? Dude, he was probably playing you. You ain’t like other viruses, you don’t live to kill humans, you never did.”

Enji sighed at that, “Yeah, I know. But he.. I don’t know. It was in the back room, so it was dark.”

The mold spore scoffed and soon stood up, “Well either way, we better hope immunity catches him soon, or we’re all gonna be dead.”

Enji knew Alejandro was right. He knew someone needed to get a hold on this guy, stop him before it was too late. The party thumped on as they talked about more mundane things; dating, social life.. anything else. Enji’s mind kept creeping back to Thrax though, thinking about the virus’ motives, why he lived to kill. He had met plenty of other viruses in his lifetime, all ones that ended up with a vaccine.. but it had been so long since he had seen a new one, one as deadly as Thrax. The more he thought about it, the more his brain started to hurt and he sighed, deciding he needed to stop.

“Oi, I think someone germs are heading up to that meeting. You should probably go on,” Alejandro said as he looked over at the stairs leading up to seemingly a conference room. Enji looked up and his ears laid back some. He protected these germs, kept them safe from immunity and FPD. He was.. a leader of sorts, and he took in germs, helped them get back on their feet.

He sighed then and got up, finishing off his drink before he slowly made his way over to the staircase and then up to the conference room. Alejandro was following in tow. Being another major figure in this body, he knew he needed to attend too.

The pair sat down at the far end of the table, Enji immediately crossing his legs and arms as he did so. In just a few moments, he was served drinks and a snack, such as he always was. He thanked the germ that served him and sipped on his drink, looking up just as the door opened again. Enji didn’t notice at first, but there was a certain blue cell harboring one eye that looked.. awfully familiar. Close to a white blood cell that frequented his shop for clothes and the suchlike.

‘Nah, that can’t be Ozzy.. hm.. Whatever.’ Enji thought to himself, continuing to sip his drink.

Then, there he was. The long black coat, the black jeans and boots, and then that damn shirt he took. Thrax walked in with a smile and sunglasses on his face, soon pushing the shades up onto his head as he looked around at the group. “Well, well, well.. this had a better turnout than I thought.”

Everyone looked at Thrax, staying quiet as he stood at the head of the table and started talking. Enji sipped on his drink some, thinking to himself about what this dude may possibly want.

“My plan is simple. Three teams will move through the cranial artery, and one through the nasal passage. We are going to the brain, baby! And we are gonna steal us one of these.” Thrax said, soon holding up a chain that had little, glowing beads in it. Oh shit. Enji knew exactly what that was. “Now this little sucker comes from a place called the hypothalamus gland.”

Then, that blue cell spoke up, “The Hypo-Hoppo-what?” Enji sighed, shaking his head as a collective groan took over the room. Thrax looked up in annoyance, clearly not liking how this cell was acting. “Hypothalamus. Hypo-thal-a-mus. Controls the temperature for the entire body. We are gonna march right in there, and we are going to take the prize. Then my man Frank's gonna heat up like a sidewalk on a summer day.”

Enji quickly looked at Alejandro, who returned the look. This guy was going to kill them all.. Thrax then spoke again, “Now all of this is going down tonight, so I want everyone to be prepared.”

The blue cell piped up once more, and Enji knew this was going to get bad, “Tonight? Uh, can't we do it next week? Me and Madcow got tickets to Wrestlemania.”

Thrax growled once more and walked around the table slowly, holding up each bead as he continued to talk, “Ya see this? This here little DNA bead comes from a little girl in Riverside, California. Didn't like to wash her hands. Took me three whole weeks. And this one. Nice lady in Detroit, Motown. Six days flat. Then there's this old guy in Philly. I killed him in seventy-two hours. Yeah.. I'm getting better as I go along, baby, but the problem is- I never set a record. Until my man Frank, that is. I'm gonna take him down in 48 hours. Get my own chapter in the medical books!”

The foxtail virus groaned and he ran his hand over his face. This dude was going to die, he just knew it.. but then, he felt eyes on him, eyes from everyone at the table. Enji looked up. They were expecting him to say something, something against this. None of them wanted to die, and he had spent so long protecting them. He sighed and finally stood up, downing the rest of his drink.

“And just how do you think this is gonna play out? Sure, it’s not difficult to get to the brain and the hypothalamus, but there’s so many other variables you need to think of here. Obviously, the bodies you’ve downed have had careless cells in them, ones that were either ready to go, or too childish to know what was going on.”

Enji walked around the table then, going to a blackboard that was in the room and starting to write on it. Alejandro grinned as he sat in his seat, knowing that Enji was going to school this Thrax guy.

“We have strict security here. The moment that FPD finds out that something is going on up in the hypothalamus, you gotta run fuckin’ quick, or they will be on you faster than a chicken hawk.” Enji started listing out details about the layout of the brain, labeling connections, areas and the suchlike. “And these immunity cells done play. We have survived the measles, chicken pox, you name it.”

“And like I told you the other day, if this is happening tonight, how the hell are you gonna get out?” He asked, looking at Thrax then. The virus looked like he was about to bust. He obviously didn’t like being talked down to, told why his plan might not work here. Enji sighed, “Look, I’m not saying it ain’t a good plan. What I’m saying is your ass is gonna get caught up in this. I have people I have to protect here, I’ve been doing it for years.”

Thrax just crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes a bit, growling a touch before the foxtail continued, “And I told you the other day, Frank lives out in the countryside. He doesn’t take care of himself and his only options for us to run to is Shane and uncle Bob. So either, you need to cut this shit out, or you need to get out of here the moment you can. I’m not going to let you do this.”

The crimson virus just stared at Enji, those eyes glaring daggers. But.. they were dilated. They were heavy in thought, heavy in function. Enji just looked him over for a moment, crossing his arms. Then the whispering started around them, to which Enji looked away to all of the germs talking. No other body had a virus like Enji to take care of them, no one to ensure safety for after the body is gone.

“Listen.. I know what it’s like to have to live out there without a host, to wonder how you’re gonna survive. I’ve been there. I think we all have. Just.. think about it, okay?” He said, his expression softening a bit before he looked at the germs around the table. Most of us have families and other people we gotta worry about. It ain’t always kill or be killed anymore, man.”

Thrax’s eyes widened a bit as he heard Enji speak. He looked around the room at the wary looks on the germs’ faces. Enji was.. unfortunately right. And that pissed him off. He grew up with that ‘kill or be killed’ mentality, it’s not just something he could shake off. His mama was cruel, his dad was never around. And any of his siblings were the same way with him. Except for his older sister.. Aniya was a total saint, and she taught him some of the good things in life. Even protected him from mama a few times..

Enji reminded him of her, trying to steer him out of the way of trouble, out of the way of for-certain death. He frowned, but his expression softened as he looked down.

Then that damn cell piped up one more time, “Uh, excuse me. Excuse me. I got one more question here. Is there anything that, say, a white blood cell could do to stop this evil plan? You know, hypothetically speaking, that is.”

Everyone turned to look at him again, all clearly annoyed that this guy kept running his mouth. It was starting to get really suspicious.. but Enji’s keen ears finally picked up just who that voice belonged to. The question asked pieced the puzzle together for him and his eyes widened.

“Th-there’s nothing. Because it ain’t happening.” Enji said, quickly looking at Alejandro. ‘Get them out of here’, he signed to him, and the mold spore nodded. “Alright, germs. Meeting’s over. Get out.” Alejandro said, standing up and watching as they all started to file out. Thrax just stared, growling a bit before he grabbed the cell as he walked by. Enji’s breath caught in his throat then and he moved.

“You ain’t no damn germ..” the virus growled, shaking him a bit. That’s when Ozzy’s badge fell, and the whole room gasped.

“That ain’t no germ, that’s a cop!” Yelled one of them, to which Enji moved fast. Just as Ozzy was about to be grabbed, he was tackled and they went out the membrane window to the side, falling down and rolling across the dance floor. Ozzy groaned and he sat up, looking at the virus. “Enji, what the hell?! I had ‘im! You asshole-“

“No the fuck you didn’t, you idiot! You almost got yourself killed! Where the fuck is that pill you’ve been runnin’ ‘round with? You gotta get out of here now!” Enji said, soon standing and then pulling Osmosis up to his feet. He started to shove him along, towards the door.

“Enji, cut it out! We gotta stop him! You heard his plan, he’s gonna kill all of us!” Ozzy yelled over the music, but the foxtail virus didn’t listen.

“Ozzy, go home! If you stick around here, this Zit will go up in flames and you will fucking reap the consequences and you know it! The mayor has already been onto you about shit recently!”

Osmosis just growled and looked around, then yelled for DriX to come on and follow him. The pill snapped out of his dancing stupor and followed behind. It was too late though, the germs came running and Enji gasped, his eyes going wide. “Run! Go, go!”

The trio took off running, and he prayed that Alejandro already got out. He hated that this was going to happen, but in order for everyone to be safe, it needed to be done. While Ozzy and DriX ran out, Enji stopped and turned, looking at the germs that were tailing them through the club. Suddenly, black tendrils rose up from the ground and wrapped around their ankles, starting to penetrate their cytoplasm and burn them up from the inside out.

Thrax watched the reaction from the top of the stairs, his eyes widening as he saw the germs start to have cracks open all over them that glowed a bright green. Enji looked pained as he did his thing, like he hated it.

‘That’s right.. he’s been here a long time. These were probably his friends.’ Thrax thought to himself as he watched the germs deteriorate from the inside out, melting into mush on the floor. The tendrils retracted, and Thrax could see how they swirled back up and around Enji’s legs, returning to looking like markings. And the smell.. god it was familiar.

One guy Thrax had been taking down.. he remembered now. The guy had cancer, and they were using a radiation treatment on him. The smell of radiation poisoning, killing cells and cancer clusters alike was something that Thrax could never forget. Enji was.. something else entirely.

He watched as the foxtail turned and walked out of the club then. This was going to be a lot harder than he anticipated..

[votederpycausemufins]

I have been bitten by the Gemcyt bug caused by @chrisrin

I thus present to you Zedaph as Poudretteite as well as Worm Man as 'Pink Chalcedony' and a fusion of WM with @sweetest-honeybee 's Evil Xisuma design. (Mainly bc i had a better idea of a fusion btwn the two rather than with chrisrin's tango and impulse, but i might figure it out) Thanks for letting me use your design! It let me make Covelite!

And while there's some notes in the drawings, there shall be more below the cut!

Okay so I immediately jumped to Zed being a pink colored gem and stumbled upon a few options. I knew I wanted to pick 2, one to be Zed's gem and the other to be WM's supposed gem, and almost swapped their gem types before learning that there was a chalcedony on the show.

I think it is a fun thing to have Zed and WM insist they are totally not the same person (or gem in this case), and here we see that WM is shapeshifting the gem position around, and that could have worked... if it weren't blatantly obvious that he looks nothing like a chalcedony. I mean look at how close the different colored Pearls look, or Sapphire and Padparacha.

The base form I used for Zed is from a gem silhouette from 'The Answer', which was the only one to have those lil ball hands as the others had at least some semblance of regular hands. So I kept that detail and even made a joke about how Zed can still just pick stuff up, and that even carries over to the fusion

speaking of the fusion.

Other than a ZIT(S) fusion, the most obvious one is w/ Evil X. And I absolutely love Bee's design and brain went nyoom with it, expecially the fact that he's corrupted??? Hello???!??! We saw in the show w/ Jasper and one of the corrupted Jaspers fusing that it left remnants of the other's corruption on Jasper herself. I loved the idea that Zed could get lil sheep like horns post-first fusion with Evil X, so boom, it now exists.

(Also the lil spots carrying over makes it even more obvious Zed/WM are the same gem so haha lol)

As for the fusion itself, I saw that Evil X seemed to have dragon elements, and that fits perfectly w/ my personal headcanons of them being an ender dragon (hybrid), and then we have sheep hybrid zedaph, and what is a fluffy dragon? luck dragon!!!

The front legs are more dragon like, back legs more sheep like (claws and then hooves respectively) and then there is fluffy luck dragon tail! oh! and I had fun with making the mane of hair work as Evil X's fancy collar thing.

Their head is based a lot on Alexandrite's, with the two mouth thing going on. I thought it would go nicely with their concept and i think it works well.

And then other details! I used the distance models style to show off the past reformations of Zed and WM. Also slight drawing mistake, in the lil comic of WM showing off his new corruption marks, he should be in his 'Early s5' design (I'll prolly go back and fix it in the morning fixed 'n added Covelite's colors). I picture the first fusion btwn the two being an adaption of when EX trapped WM in prison, then reappeared being good now to help him escape, but they needed to fuse to do so. (Oh i also used the distance models to do a lil size comparison)

[sporesgalaxy]

you're not on t, right? would you like telling me why? (if you're not), I'm afab and still not sure if I want it or not, if I am fine staying like this for the rest of my life or if change (at some point) is necessary to make me happier.

There's a lot to consider and I doubt I have much more certainty about it than you! I'm happy to answer this though, because honestly I wish I saw more from nonbinary people like me, just because it would be nice to feel I'm not alone.

For many years I was not interested in T because I knew many of the effects (i.e. growing more hair) risked exacerbating my OCD quite a lot. The stress I felt from OCD far outweighed my relatively mild gender discomfort at the time so it was easy to dismiss it.

More recently, now that I'm on anxiety medication, I think in a perfect world I would like to start T now. I don't think the zits would drive me insane anymore, and facial hair even sounds kinda cool even if I probably wouldnt get much. And so on and so forth with the body changes just kinda Sounding Nice. Also hormones effect your brain, and I'm ngl the way I've heard testosterone affects your brain sounds like it would make me require less anxiety medication to function. I could be way wrong but like. It sounds nice. lol.

Oh AND I would benefit from lessened/none periods, because I have really bad menstruation symptoms that, like, severely fuck me up when Im unmedicated. Currently on birth control to deal with this but thats so many birds I could kill with one stone on T damn

It's been a long time since I watched it, but Leadhead's video about her transition really made me less, like...abstractly terrified of the idea of hrt.

But, once again, my gender discomfort is familiar and I have dealt with it for many years, whereas the potential reaction to more visibly transitioning is an unknown to me. Irl, in my immediate area, I don't know any medically transitioned/transitioning people.

So I feel comforted by being a risk-avoidant person. I think I'd be happiER on T, but I'm very happy being read as a 6ft tall woman who's Probably A Lesbian Or Something. "A little butchy," as my grandmother put it on one legendary occassion. I took a lot of baby steps to get even this far. I wasn't brave enough to insist on pants in semiformal settings until, like, this year. Jumping into things quickly has just never been my forte.

Lastly, my state is Not friendly to trans people right now, so it would be hard to get T anyways. More trouble than I want to go through right now, as a recent graduate who still doesn't have a long-term job (my current job has an expiration date at the end of the season, with no guarantee of rehire.)

[itsadragonaesthetic]

Below is a post about all of the things I've noticed at 4 months on testosterone. Making this for myself and also anyone who is thinking about starting testosterone. This does get personal and talks about private and sexual stuff, as a warning. I would have loved for people to openly talk about it more when I was still deciding, so I choose to talk about it.

Facial hair grew my peach fuzz 5 times longer and stopped. It makes it easy and natural looking to put mascara or rubbing eyebrow pencil stuff on it tho. No true facial hair as of yet.

My voice FINALLY started to properly drop after 4 actual months of torture. I have had so much mucus in my throat ever since I hit one month but only recently does my voice sound much different. It's genuinely harder to talk higher.

My bumpy skin thing came back after years. As a teen, I had that skin condition that causes excess keratin in the hair follicles on some parts of your body but it went away when I was around 19 or so. Now it's back.

My acne is very much there but it's not too bad. Not nearly as bad as before i started all my meds, I must say. Considering I dropped nearly all of my acne meds shortly before starting T, this isn't that bad. Started as teeny zits and now I get maybe a cyst every week or so.

My skin is extremely oily but not much more than it was before I started taking meds for my original hormone and health problems. I'm just a naturally oily person. Again, my acne is much less than it used to be despite this.

I very much smell different. When I sweat a lot, it's more of a nice musty smell and not so much of that sharp onion smell. My pee smells VERY different. I'm not sure how to describe it.

My discharge is different, but not abnormal. Interestingly, it's more acidic. I thought it would get less acidic but nope it's staining my underwear.

The natural lubricant discharge has not gone away whatsoever. No vaginal atrophy to speak of.

Similarly, i haven't felt any cramping after orgasms. Maybe a teeny bit, but I think it's actually my intestines and this was always a thing before I started T.

I got some proper tummy hairs! I don't think I've gotten hairs anywhere else except my tummy.

My shoulders and back have skyrocketed in size. My muscles aren't more defined but they are bigger.

I haven't gained or lost any weight really.

Appetite has been pretty alright. I occasionally get sudden cravings but they go away once I get some protein in me.

Bottom growth has been slow and steady. I don't really feel it at all like I did in the first two months but it's a teeny bit bigger pretty much every week.

Sexual stuff has changed a surprising amount. Certain kinds of stimulation have totally vanished, and lots of fantasies of mine have become totally uninteresting. It's been like being a little teen again; just making random shit up and trying to find what grinds your gears.

Attraction hasn't changed much. It's perhaps slightly more intense. I get a small crush on at least one girl in every social space I end up in.

My hair is impossible to keep clean and seems thinner. Not in a balding sort of way, more in a general hair quality and volume sort of way. My hair is so oily that it just sits flat on my head. It's honestly only nice for a few hours after showering. And NO I don't wash it every day my hair habits have not changed in years.

I'm more gassy? I'm lactose intolerant and anti depressants mess with ur digestion but it's more noticeable now.

My chest is decently smaller. My chest was SUPER puffy beforehand. Rock solid all the time. Almost constantly in some pain from the swelling. My chest is still more solid than the average tit, but the fact that they're not just overripe grapefruits on my chest and they just feel like fat bags is CRAZY.

This has interestingly not made binding a lot easier. Binding, especially with tape, has always been a challenge for my super titanium tits despite them not being that big. I can't achieve a flatter chest, but it's slightly easier to shape my chest and just make it look like I got decent pecs with some chest fat.

I might add more if I think of it!

My unibrow is now even more unibrow. I would shave it but my hatred of the white patriarchy burns hot within me.

I don't really get cold anymore. I'm slightly tubbier now I guess but I was tubby sometimes as a kid and teen and I hated the cold. I keep thinking about how mild this winter has been but then I check the temperature and it's like 38 degrees F outside with a 35 degree wind chill and I'm like.......... huh...

My family says I've gotten stronger. There's been multiple instances where there will be a bin full of groceries or I have to carry a dog across a street back to his house and someone I know will be like "how did you do that?" I've been conditioned to never question my strength and just do whatever is possible so I don't notice it.

[kalopsia2002]

I think one thing that most women do is compare themselves to others. And i never understood why we compare ourselves to others, failing to understand we're all built differently. And none of us. Will ever be like those around us. What we need to understand as individual women is that we are all a part of ourselves and that we all have something to give to the world and just because you can't do what she does, doesn't make you any less. Your probably giving what she thinks she can't and that something we all need to understand. That we all have a purpose. And comparing will only destroy what ever peace is left in our minds.

I guess as a young teenager i was much stronger then i am today, as an adult. Everything i do is to make myself feel worthy of everything around me. From people to the tiniest things. I don't feel ashamed to say i do alot of people pleasing just to feel known and wanted. Something i wasn't desperate for when i was small. As an adult i wish to have the confidence i had when i was young. The confidence that let no body break me. Walk over me. Or make me feel like I'll never be enough.

The small version of me would have judged me for being so tiny and puny about things like this. I'm more then a zit on my cheek. I'm more then the awkward silence i hold when i meet new people. Im more then the Abaya that covers my body and makes me stand out. I'm more then those hair that aren't groomed well in the beauty parlour. I'm more then my skinny body. I'm more then the dress that won't look nice on me. I'm more then the tanned feet i bear because I'm too lazy to cover them in the sun. I'm more then my pigmented eyes that look like they've never slept. I am me.

And that me is still beautiful. Periodt.

As i was growing up. I think I noticed people noticing my flaws more then they ever saw the good things in me. There's a sense we're all something but i wish it was in terms of good attributes that we have rather then all that we don't have. I've always been a shadow my entire life. It's takes alot of time to notice me from across the classroom. And the most painful part is i was only ever noticed by people when i was pretty. And i think this shit messed me up so bad one tiny ass pimple possesses the power to shatter my confidence.

I stand in front of the mirror today, feeling as though I've lost the power to be noticed again. Or to be wanted again. Pathetic how it scares me that people will never want to unravel my soul because I'm not pretty to look at. Because im not her.

I stand still…not moving an inch from infront of the mirror. I am me. Not her. I am beautiful. I wish that i stop being unkind to myself just because i don't look like them.

My wish for us as for women is to be kind to ourselves no matter what we feel. And i pray that i stop letting these petty things control my life. Cause someone once said. My insecurities are my fears, not my abilities. And I'd hate myself for the entire lifetime if i let my fears run me around.

[gaykarstaagforever]

FREE ON YOUTUBE

Osmosis Jones (2001) is good. Apparently that is an unpopular opinion. Add it to my list of me liking movies "no one else likes."

It's at least the best educational film I've ever seen.

It was a bomb and people don't like the live-action sequences, in which Bill Murray is a disgusting loveable jackass. Those were my favorite parts. There is another universe in which Bill Murray, Molly Shannon and Chris Elliot did a full Farrelly Brothers gross-out comedy, and I'd certainly go there for flies and ice cream.

I wonder if this was a movie that was just ahead of its time. Now, an irreverent mixed-media mashup comedy starring Bill Murray and Chris Rock would probably have a strong opening weekend, at least. I guess in 2001 we were just too busy with Moulin Rouge and Swordfish to fit this into our lives.

No this isn't from the Matrix. But God, did it want to be...

I know Osmosis Jones went through development hell, which never helps any movie, and by the premiere it was way too expensive. And I don't remember any marketing push for it. But I could be wrong about that. I may have been too distracted trying to figure out what the hell Swordfish was supposed to be about.

...I liked the part where Bill Murray chokes out a chimpanzee for an egg. Maybe I'm just old, but that kind of turn-of-the-century slapstick just tickles my funny bone.

There aren't even too many dated scenes here, which is impressive for this era. Exactly one Matrix reference, and Jones is gross to a woman for a bit. Oh, and Kid Rock does a rap. But it is in a party in a zit and then he explodes, so fair enough.

The soundtrack is a nice little pile of 20 year old hiphop and R&B nostalgia. Though it didn't sell well at the time. Probably because we were all busy buying the Swordfish soundtrack produced by Paul Oakenfold.

They also did an Osmosis Jones TV cartoon for a couple of seasons. I've never seen that so I don't know how many Matrix references it included. Probably at least one.

Hey speaking of Matrix references:

[eric-cartman-my-beloved]

Teen Eric headcanons

(Originally I wanted to write an one-shot for Eric’s birthday, but I ended up focusing on a multi-chaptered fic of mine, so I wouldn’t make it on time for the 1st of July. I wrote this instead, because I also had no ideas to draw, and I figured headcanons would be better than nothing.)

Eric never quits his habit of overeating, but grows rather tall regardless, due to the genes from his father’s side of the family. His full height is about 6 feet 1, and he ends up being the tallest out of the main four (and Butters) in high-school and later on in adulthood.

Actually has naturally really nice skin, with no acne or zits and very smooth. Though he does help a bit by putting on some skincare products that he’d never let anyone besides Liane find out that he uses. (Because that’d be “gay”.)

Stops wearing a hat for the most part because it keeps messing up his hair. And he spends quite a bit of time combing it and taking care of it. (Not that he’d tell anyone.)

Has a cute, small, round nose and thin, nicely-shaped eyebrows.

Of course he’s still heavy (over 105kg or 231 pounds), but as he was growing taller the weight has been distributed to his body more gracefully, so he is more bulky than he is “fat”, though his belly is still quite visible and his cheeks are round.

Dresses semi-formally even on regular days at school. Button-up shirts, corduroy pants, suede shoes, trench coats occasionally, things like that. Likes to brag about how expensive the brands are all the time.

His overall situation has not been getting any better with time. On the contrary, the more that time passes, the worse he gets mentally. He lashes out and is rude at innocent people far more easily, gets more irritable and is more prone to anger bursts.

Eric is unbearable to be around to the point their group almost splits up. It becomes a vicious cycle and the less Kyle, Stan and Kenny want to hang out with him, the more he clings to his racist ideals.

The only friend who mostly remains by his side is Butters, whom he often involves in schemes in order to make money.

Like it happened with his therapist’s wife, he has caused more people who irritated him once or twice to commit suicide, as, after that and the incident with Scott, he steadily only becomes bolder with what he can get away with.

His relationship with Liane also worsens over time. After several failed attempts to try and control him, Liane eventually regresses back to her usual ways and tries to give him anything he wants, because of how detrimental and exhausting arguing with him all the time is.

He still experiences hallucinations every now and then. He stopped seeing his stuffed animals around when he was about 15, but Cupid Me persisted.

Liane has tried to take him to therapists (for…everything) but Eric does not believe he needs help, thinks him going there is a violation of his rights and is always hostile to the doctors, therefore, they have to cut ties after less than two months.

He is nearly always unable to sit through an entire period without causing some kind of disturbance in the classroom. Be it bothering his classmates (Kyle especially) or casually pulling his phone out, and expects no repercussions about anything. Hence, he’s always exasperated and irritated when a teacher reprimands him.

It isn’t often that teachers reprimand him, however, because he almost always shouts at them even at a simple “be quiet, Eric”, and given that his worsening mental condition is obvious, they are unsure and/or afraid of what he might do, as he can be unpredictable. So they prefer to return home with a headache, rather than try to get Eric to behave.

He has gotten into trouble with the principal for being caught owning nazi paraphernalia, and Liane was also informed, but Eric never bothered to reconsider about stopping to buy such items.  

For a couple of weeks, he attended the meetings of a far-right organization, but eventually quitted because “they were sitting on their asses all day long”.

Wanted to get a swastika tattoo on his arm, but he chickened out at the last minute because he was scared of the pain.

He ran for president of the student council in 12th grade, but he was elected vice-president, and his pride could not afford Wendy being elected president, so he quitted on his own.

Has managed to teach himself nearly fluent German, semi-fluent Spanish and a bit of French.

Unsurprisingly, he does not do well in school except for German class. His grades in the other subjects are just… tragic. But he doesn’t care because he thinks that studying and getting into college is “overrated anyway”.

Eventually grows out of crossdressing, but still goes through a crisis about his sexuality. Luckily for him, his primary attraction is females, which makes it easier for him to repress the part of his brain that is attracted to males.

They have an on-and-off kind of relationship with Heidi ever since 10th grade. Heidi was understandably reluctant to date him after what she had gone through in 4th grade, but Eric managed to convince her that he has changed, and that he’s a different, better person.

He loves bragging about having a girlfriend, and tells lots of stories about how their relationship progresses (though some are fake, or have a bit of an extra spice to them).

Not all girls find him as intolerable to look at anymore. Though, of course, they still can’t stand his personality, which is why, since Eric really wanted a girlfriend, he chose to go to Heidi, whom he knew he could convince of his change.

He has a small crush on Wendy, but he’d rather give all his progress in a video game up than ever admit it to anyone – even to himself.

He often sleeps over at Heidi’s place without letting Liane know beforehand, and when he returns the next morning, she doesn’t bat an eye. (Heidi’s parents are a different story, however.)

A few months before the end of 12th grade he takes up smoking. At first he just thinks that it looks “kinda cool” but eventually he ends up actually liking it.

He gets warnings about how his habits are going to affect his health badly in the long term, but he always ignores people. Eric always thinks he knows better than anybody else around him.

  Alright, so, that about does it for the headcanons. I’d also like to share a few songs that I personally strongly associate with Eric (even if not all the lyrics fit him perfectly):

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