#Been catching up on some web comics today

[grassbreads]

Y'all should read Ingress Adventuring Co

Genuinely one of the most fun and charming web comics I've ever read.

[green-kat331]

My Friend Spider-man

Pt 1 : Friendly Neighborhood Reporter

(Non-specific! spider-man x reader)

A/N: This is a spider-man from no specific universe, game, comic, or movie, so let me clear some stuff up about Peter. He's a college student (about 18-19 y/o), and He's an intern at the Daily Bugle. You have been his friend since high school and are also in college and working at The Bugle.

warning: Gun, Swearing?

Walking through the streets of Queens New York is no easy task. 

Your satchel bounced on your hip with each quick step. Today, you had to bring in your most recent reports to The Bugle. Something about a recent sports award or a shiny prize of some sort, you were practically asleep writing the damn thing. Judging by the busy crowd, you weren't gonna make it to save yourself from Jameson's lecture. Although the only thing he ever seems to talk about recently is Spider-man. 

The web-slinging hero has been on everyone's mind recently since yet another save from a superbad villain. You can still see caution tape on a few buildings if you just walk a few blocks. 

Now you're waiting towards the crosswalk when suddenly your arm is harshly pulled into an ally, and a gun is held to your stomach. A man cornered you and demanded your bag. 

"Hand it over, and I won't have to use this one you." 

"I- I swear I don't have anything very valuable in here for you to take. I have reports for my job that's it- I don't even carry a lot of cash on me—" you stutter through your stunned state trying to negotiate your way out of it, even though you know it's pointless 

"I said hand it over!" He demands a little louder now. 

Then another man runs into the alley, about the same age as the first man "Yo hurry up, we gotta get outta here," he whispered 

"Alright! I got it," the first man answers and starts to forcibly pull your bag off your shoulder, but you held on tight. The shaking forced the latch to release, and most of your reports spilled out of the bag. At the same time, the man shot the gun into the air, forcing you to let go and cover your ears. The two men ran out of the alley and into the city streets. 

You're left now alone with no choice but to salvage the papers you could. You held up the report by its edge. Now stained due to water and mud, the text was barely visible and the color was an ugly shade of brown. 

"Ugh...Dammit, " you mumble. To be frank, your pride was more hurt than anything. They were clearly disorganized and young. It felt like you got robbed by a couple of teenagers. 

You look around for any way to hold or dry the pages without damaging them. 

Suddenly, a loud scream catches your attention, then a loud bang makes you jump, and you see the guys that just robbed you wrapped in webs and stuck on a dumpster. Staring in confusion, you wonder where the hero that dropped the men off might be. 

Your question was soon answered. 

"This belong to you?" A voice says now behind you. 

The suddenness of the voice made you jump and turn around. you see the web-slinging vigilante hanging upside-down holding your satchel. You take a step back and stare at the masked hero. He tilts his head in wonder, then comes down from his web and hands you the bag properly. 

"Uh... thank you, Spider-man" A smile couldn’t help but appear on your face

"What this? Oh, it's no problem. Just doing what any good ol' Samaritan woulda done." He expressed even waving his hands in the air and leaning on the alley wall.

You chuckled a bit at his casualness. He spoke as though he'd known you forever. Guess they don't call him 'Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man' for nothing.

3 years he's been at this. For the entirety of your senior year, you've been invested in the good deeds he has committed. Whether it's helping an old woman or keeping the green goblin from blowing up the entire city. 

"So you, Report for the Bugle?" He asks, pointing at the papers. Coming out of your own thoughts. You see the muddy report with the mentioned newspaper logo in bold.

"yeah.. Yeah!.. Don't worry about Jameson. Trust me, not everyone there thinks he's right 100% of the time, especially about you. I don't read his blocks about you anyways," you ramble, kneeling down and picking up the rest of the reports.

"You a word-of-mouth type of person?" 

"... yeah... you could say that..."You respond 

Awkward silence

"...sorry... it's my first time getting robbed, Soo… Y' know I'm still...processing... Well maybe you don't actually know what it's like cuz- y'know-- you're spider-man.. i mean have you ever been robbed? sorry! That''s a stupid question. of course not" You ramble nervously tucking hair behind your ear and rubbing the back of your neck.

He chuckles. Then kneels down, and takes the papers from your arms, also doing his best to shake them dry. He puts them back into your bag, then shoots a web out of the ally "Next time you need my help, be sure to holler and I'll come swinging for you." he says with a wave and swings away. 

You wave back, staring at where he disappeared from, calmly you walk out of the ally preparing yourself for Jameson's lecture, but little does he know a spark of inspiration appeared from that brief encounter. 

Hopefully, today will be your day. 

---

You walk into The Bugle, moving past all the other reporters and editors running around the room. The sound of printers and typing almost made you walk right back out of the door, but you pushed through. 

"Hey,(____)." You hear Peter say. 

If you had to pick the most likable person in the office, Peter Parker would take the #1 spot every time. While people gave you sly looks for being a 'kid' in the work place. He never failed to greet you each morning occasionally with a coffee if you're lucky. 

You quickly greet him back, then immediately go into Jameson's office. 

"You're late." He states, not even bothering to look up at you. You rested the urge to choke him. 

"I know - I uhh I ran into an issue on my way -" 

"Put them on my desk then get working on the other files. They're on your desk. I want these all done by the end of the day" 

As you begin to take the files out, you try to talk, "I was actually thinking of asking if I could -"

"Jesus, they're filthy. Print out more and—" 

"I WAS ROBBED!" You finally shout, interrupting the prideful man "on the way here, that's why I'm late and why the papers are.. like that..." You finished now calmly.

He pauses 

"Well you’re alive arent you? Did they take anything?" He asks. You sigh. Finally, he listened. "No. That's what I wanted to talk about. My stuff was given back because Spiderman caught them and returned my items. I want to do a report on him and all the great things he's done. ," 

"The great things!? He is a menace! We shouldn't be celebrating his crimes -" 

"—I won't even ask for payment on this report. Come on, Mr. Jameson, why spend the entirety of your career shouting in papers and broadcasts about something you don't even like? For a few months is all I ask, I'll shine a different light on the vigilante while also doing my usual reports. 

The older man thinks for a moment. "Think of your blood pressure," you quickly add-in. He glares at you, knowing the numerous lectures he receives from his wife about it. You were right, and he gives up after taking another puff of his cigar he turns his chair towards you "fine you'll be put on reports about Spiderman and current events. Your first print is at the end of the week, and I want the ones on your desk printed by the end of the day." You nod and turn to walk out of his office. Looking out the glass panel, you make eye contact with Peter, who was messing with his camera. You look back at Jameson who was angrily scribbling on his notepad almost ripping the pages. 

"You're wrong about him, Jameson. He's good for this city." 

"You're lucky. You're a good reporter. I don't pay you to be biased and sentimental. Just get the job done." 

"... you don't pay me much of anything anyway." 

"I decided to give the kiddies a chance. I've been feeling generous this year. Don't make me regret it. Now go and get those reports PRINTED!" 

Quickly, you run out of his office, avoiding yet another burst eardrum. you slam the door and rush towards Peter with a giddy feeling in your stomach. You grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to your desk. 

"Peter Parker, you are not going to believe what gold I have struck today!" 

He stared at you with wondering eyes. "What- what? why? What happened just now?" 

"I got put on the Spiderman reports" 

"...the what now?" 

"I'm doing reports on Spiderman! Isn't that exciting? My days won't be filled with just writing about middle school basketball and what ducks are fed at the parks. This is something real, something new, something exciting, and you're going to help me!" You state. He still looks at you bewildered. Leaning in close you grab his hands in between yours.

"Peter Parker, you are the best photographer I know. You have captured numerous and damn near impossibly close images of Spiderman swinging around and in some of the most perfect poses ever." His eyes avert yours for a split second as he blushed, clearly flattered by your praises

"Now I'm relying on your skills to get pictures of him in action, I wanna see him being the hero we know he is. Defeating bad guys and saving civilians! They need to know that he's actually helping people. Like you, like me." 

Peter thinks for a moment, then looks into his camera. "You really think he's doing good?" 

"I think he's doing great. Nothing like what Jamison makes him out to be." 

He gives a quick smile, then walks over to his desk and grabs his bag. "So what are you gonna be doing?" He asks 

Before taking a seat, you grin at your friend.

"I'm going to get whatever little piece of info I can get on the guy."

You smirk and turned back to your desk, you can't think too far ahead now all you need to focus on was getting these reports out of your way. although you couldn't help but wonder about Peters's nervous expression.

shrugging your shoulders you pull open your first file.

Hours Later….

You drag yourself and your bag into your apartment doors nearly collapsing in the hallway, your roommate peaked out of his room.

“Damn, you look like shit,” he says laughing at your misery.

You glared at him putting down your bag and keys. The journey to your bedroom was torturous, your back ached and your eyes felt like they were about to fall out of your head. Staying till the end of the day to finish reports made you want to abandon The Bugle altogether. even though it isn't the latest you've come home due to the heavy amounts of work Jameson decided to give you. But still, who would've thought a rookie like yourself would be placed on a task so much larger than you really knew what to do with. It made you kick your feet into your mattress as your eyes slowly succumbed to exhaustion.

Tomorrow you were gonna do whatever you need to. You were gonna get an interview with Spiderman. 

____________________________________________

Also on AO3 in case you prefer to read fics there

[elizabethplaid]

daily notes - overview of oct 5, 2023

omfg, I'm so tired. Like, we got home before 4pm, and I've been resting these last few hours. It was cool but humid, and I was just a sweaty mess when I got home. Hopped in the shower, then laid on my bed in front of the fan, and caught up on my web comic reading.

This will be the text overview of everything we did. When I get other posts up with images, I will edit and link to those.

First, we stopped by the local bakery I had mentioned on Monday. They probably had less-than-half of their inventory left. I got the very last blueberry-almond "scone", a couple other cookies for me, and some bits for LL-K. (K couldn't make the trip today, because she's busy with work.)

Second, we visited Rooster Brother, a store for cooks and those who love them, as they say. Lots of fun kitchen items, though they were more pricey than I'd prefer. Fun things, but nothing that screamed "must buy!". I did browse some chopsticks, though I was torn between using them as hair sticks or as chopsticks. (One was more decorative, but the other was cute enough for either use.)

There was a whole display of mushroom-themed items, too. The opposite side of that display had other woodland creatures, including deer and owls. They had the very same glass xmas ornament that @vintage-tech once sent me, several years ago - a little fawn, curled up and sleeping.

Next, we visited Riverside Cafe in Ellsworth for lunch. Very tasty, but neither of us could finish everything. (I only had fries left, but LL-J had 1-4th of her sandwich and fries leftover.) The music playlist was very good, though slightly biased towards my high school years. I can only remember 5 of the songs

Jack Johnson - "Sitting, Waiting, Wishing"

Weezer - "Island in the Sun"

Counting Crows - "Long December"

Blues Traveler - "Runaround"

Counting Crows - "Round Here" (I think? It was another CC song, at least)

It was tough to hear the music, so I'm sure there were other songs playing, and I just didn't catch them.

We walked down the road, ducking in The Dream Catcher antique shop next. Lots of pretty visuals, though the aisles were crowded and some display cases didn't show prices well. (There was such cool jewelry!) Because it was a cold and humid day, and they left the doors open, we felt very uncomfortable in that stuffy place. Both of us were tired, so we decided to call it quits when we saw there were another 2 floors to the place.

I bought 3 small dolls and a snake-shaped pendant. They're all cheaply made items, with discoloring and no easy way to remove the clothes. One is an Irish (I assume) souveneir doll, who came with a stand - $12. Then I found a dandy, dapper Rococo man. A little more digging, and I found his lady. Both have sleep eyes and painted feet/legs. They didn't have tags, so the clerk said $10 for the pair. Fine by me!

The snake pendant was $1. It's shape to curl around a marble or gem stone, and even has prongs to help hold it in place. It was empty, found in a dish of tiny pewter figures glued to flattened marbles. So so soooo tiny!

When we left, we both felt awful and tired. We visited a kids' book-and-toy store very quickly, didn't buy anything, then browsed the store windows of some other shops. The two I liked both looked very elaborate and fun. We'll hit one of those first on our next trip, when I have more energy again.

From there, we went to LL Bean's outlet store. They had a big sale on women's pants, so I grabbed a couple pairs. One's like... lounge or athletic wear? The other seemed like casual drawstring pants. I can't describe the texture. Omg, the textures for most of the pants were so bad in that section. So 60% off, I only paid about $35 after taxes for 2 pairs, yay.

Hit up Dunkin's drive-thru on the way out of town. LL-J now knows the glory of the "frozen hot chocolate" - basically a chocolate milk slushy.

We stopped by LL-K's house once we got back in town, to drop off the cookies. She gave me 2 containers of chicken stock that she had made. A couple weeks ago, she had asked where she could find chicken feet, so I helped source some from Neighbor-J and -S's chickens. (They were the couple that ran a general store for a few years. S used to sew cloth diapers as a business, too.) ----------

I hopped in the shower once I got home. Very very tired. Laid in front of the fan for a couple hours, and now I've been typing for like 20 minutes. We left at 10:15am and got home before 4pm. If the weather wasn't so clammy, I think we would've done far better. BUT I still did very good, considering how cheerful and happy this day has been.

Will work on posting photos in multiple posts next. Some stuff at the antique store is worthy of shiftythrifting, but some is not. One item is even from the "we see this too often, so don't submit it anymore" list. My first time seeing one in the wild!

[measuringbliss]

Spider-Man Read-Through 074 Octopus and Owl (SSM 72-77)

MASTERPOST

I'm gonna watch TASM 2 in theaters later today and I'm excited. I've never seen it on the big screen!

Anyway.

Today, we get to see more of Doc Ock (?), the Owl (who even is that?) and some much-needed conclusion to the soap side of things.

A long-time coming indeed!

The first issue of this post has a really cool cover.

So our story begins at a super-villain fan-club. *snickers* They mention that Doc Ock broke out of prison, and the Ock wannabe wants to party to celebrate. Frustrated by his friend's mockery of Ock, the Ock wannabe, Ollie, goes out in the night to join his idol. Methinks the kid has a crush.

Meanwhile, Peter goes home and finds that he's been robbed! He quickly catches up to the robbers, but then a police alarm leads him to another robbery. What an eventful night! Turns out the Ock wannabe stole comics. He later breaks in a toy store and accidentally knocks out the guard. Frightened, he calls for his mom.

A thought comes to me. This issue's called "Waiting for Octopus". It's a reference to "Waiting for Godot"... so I'll assume Octopus won't actually appear in this issue.

Anyway, Spidey stumbles upon the Ock wannabe and they "fight".

This is wild, but I like it! It leads to creative panels, just like when Mysterio gets involved. Then Spidey acts overdramatic.

Yeah, sure, you almost killed him... when you dodged dumbbells?

Ollie goes back to his parents and seems like a changed man. In secret, he's working on another project... web fluid! Oh boy.

Ock does appear (on the first page too, but I'd forgotten about that). He's a bit confused, but oh well.

Meanwhile, Debra's at her therapist and says she can't distinguish dreams from reality. Alright... sure.

Same.

I wish Ollie had met Ock, it could have been interesting.

#73 time!

Okay, this is a good start.

That guy is Bailey Kuklin, Debra's psychiatrist who appeared last issue. Finally, FINALLY, someone confronts Peter about his treatment of Debra.

I'd argue he's more than "partially responsible".

So Bailey suggests that Peter fakes being Spider-Man to convince Debra that she's delulu.

Look, Peter, this is your opportunity to stop acting like a jerkass.

Robbie calls Peter at that moment and says Boomerang comes up before the grand jury today (see, uh, whatever previous post Boomerang was in). Would be nice to have some pictures. Peter's very happy to have a reason not to think about Debra.

The one constant is that Peter's always fine as fuck.

Boomerang tries to leave his trial but Spidey quickly intervenes. He notices that three men tried to make Boomerang escape, and puts a tracer on them.

So... the Owl and Ock are at a meeting. The Owl wanted to free Boomerang to get his intel on the Kingpin. He wants to take over New York City! Ock doesn't want a partner though. And then Spidey gets there as well, and a fight starts, because when Spidey gets there, his ennemies usually agree to fight together to get rid of him.

(Give me the soap! Where's the soap?!)

Them being in a science museum gives way to a nice fight, some panels are really beautiful.

Ock leaves, because he really can't be bothered to deal with our two idiots.

The Owl gets away too, and for Peter, there's only one thing left to do...

So... 74 time!

Peter listens in on Debra's session with her psychiatrist, then is upset when the latter asks him again to act as Spider-Man.

SEE, THIS IS YOUR ISSUE RIGHT THERE!

Spider-Man IS a soap opera. It is! And that component has been missing ever since Conway left. Dear Lord, Bill Mantlo, don't think yourself so above this!

Now, Peter's right in that Debra doesn't need to be gaslit further, but still.

Leaving the office, Spidey doesn't notice a shadowy lady following him... No, his attention is turned toward Ock and the Owl's goons fighting each other. The Owl flies away with a plot-relevant object.

At ESU, Peter asks the dean about Debra. The dean tells him he actually hired Debra right after she left the hospital, and suggests Peter asks Biff Rifkin about his time with Debra in college.

Meanwhile, Ock and the Kingpin are having a tête-à-tête.

For a moment, the Kingpin laughs. He'd planned this already and replaced that thing with a fake. Then someone else snatches it hahaha.

At the health spa where Biff works, Peter talks to him to show how masculine and straight he is in this hormone-fueled environment.

So turns out Debra was abused by her ex-husband, Mark Whitman. Biff rescued her!

I need to see the real Biff, because that character is increasingly interesting. (And that pose is very gay.)

Finally, we get backstory. See what that gave us? I'm already much more interested in Biff and Debra!

Ock and the Owl briefly fight but we don't care about that. I'm getting my soap fix, and I'm enjoying it!

Debra's at home, "talking to her stuffed animal", which is supposed to be weird, but that doesn't strike me as particularly scary.

She has a Snoopy and a teddy bear, she's alright in my book!

Spidey gives his true identity to Debra...

This is a beautiful panel, I love it.

Debra's in shock, then she starts to laugh. She thanks Peter for putting on this masquerade for her.

HAHAHAHA OH GOD. There's absolutely nothing good in this panel. Too many issues! Oh Lord. No, Debra, no! The best friend you've ever had?!

The next day, Debra leaves for the Midwest to resolve her past, before she can move on.

I can't with these two (but Peter looks very comfy, I love that outfit).

And with Debra out of the picture (until, at least, a quick apparition during Civil War that will vindicate her), Black Cat comes back.

On one hand, I really enjoyed this issue for the amount of soap it provided me, but on the other hand, that resolution absolutely stunk.

Our friend Bell Lectar is oddly more enthuastic than me:

I feel like Peter does have good development in this issue, but it comes crashing down near the end when he just lets her believe that he masqueraded.

Anyway, it's a few days later, I watched TASM2 in theaters, it was great, now let's finish this and then meet the Hobgoblin next post.

SSM 75!

Spidey's relieved that Black Cat's alive, and he immediately kisses her, like, the same day he kissed Debra. Our man gets around!

Felicia asks for another kiss but Spidey's immediately like "Hey, i'm still shocked you're alive, give me a break". Weird timing, but sure!

So how did Felicia survive?

HAHAHAHAHAHA. Sorry, I actually burst out laughing when I saw her removing the web to show her underwear to the reader.

I can imagine Roger Stern turning a wheel for each step: "So Black Cat... got naked... but people caught her... and she met... Doc Ock!"

At least it's a fun way to tie her return to the ongoing arc.

So of course, Felicia reveals she stole the real device that can destroy the city, and Spidey's like, "Well, I've got no other lady so YOLO" (sure, Debra literally left hours ago, but it's not like she mattered very much, did she?) even though he takes the time to remind us for the umpteenth time that he has exams and should study and that this time, really, he'll be in trouble if he doesn't succeed.

I don't think we've seen Peter succeed at a single exam, folks.

She's hilarious. And I love their relationship, I love me some angst men.

They're about to get to some sexy times when Ock barges him, captures Felicia and offers an ultimatum to Spidey: the activator to get her back! Ock's particularly pissed that Felicia "abused his hospitality" hahaha

He becomes even more pissed when Spidey calls Felicia "my lady", but Felicia loves that so much she slips from Ock's tentacles.

There's a really great fight scene, but Ock escapes with Felicia. Spidey then barges in on the Kingpin, who accepts to answer Spidey's questions because he's afraid of Octopus. Surprising, but nice!

He notably says that he's already reallocating his resources. He's terrified!

Really cool panel.

In the end, Spidey saves the day. It's a really cool fight, and a really cool issue. Also, it's almost 40 pages, which is insane.

In #76, peace, uh, doesn't last long.

At all.

I really like her expression on the right, in the penultimate panel. This is really good. I love this. Oof. It's painful.

But Black Cat also cheated death many times already.

Spidey throws Doc Ock (who's responsible)'s arms in the ocean and takes BC to a hospital.

When the sun rises, it seems like BC will be alright, but then Spidey remembers he has EXAMS. He's almost late at it, and it's clear once again that Peter has ADHD. Issues with discipline, you say? Yup.

Look, it's time for the side character's cameo of the week! Isn't that nice?

As soon as he finishes the exam, Peter rushes back to the hospital, where he sees... Captain DeWolff. She's bringing amnesty papers for Felicia, yay!

And Felicia wakes up.

Doc Ock too, and he's determined to make her and Spidey pay.

In #77, Ock goes to the hospital and warns Spidey that they'll die 24 hours later. Okay dude. The Captain's still here and insists that Spidey should call her Jean. That's lovely, I'm just getting worried because I know her name thanks to a popular storyline, and I don't doubt that it's coming soon...

I expected the Doc Ock storyline to conclude there, but instead, Spidey stumbles upon thieves and the Gladiator. They have a really cool interaction that, while it's definitely here to stall for time, makes for a solid issue. I loved it.

If you're curious, Bell Lectar is overjoyed at Peter's recent development and has regained faith in the magazine, yay!

Now: let's see the famed Hobgoblin!

[kianbe]

𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆.

𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒑, 𝒆𝒗𝒆. undisclosed date & time. 𝒕𝒍𝒅𝒓.  kian avoids working and bothers mimi during closing.

a long, heavy sigh flutters from between kian's lips, his eyes gaze out of the window at the soft rainfall that ricochets off of the pavement. the door to shop is locked, the drawer's been counted, and now, all that's left to do is some light cleaning. however, while he's supposed to be wiping down the countertops, he's caught daydreaming—as per usual. today was a slow day, and though he usually appreciates that, as it allows him time to work on music without distraction, it's been inconvenient for the last few hours because of the weather. whenever it's stormy outside, all he wants to do is lie in bed and use the ceiling above as a canvas to create many stories. he doesn't need netflix, or web-comics, or even his guitar. the thing he loves the most in this world is being able to flee reality for awhile and exist in a land of his own.

that's where he's at now, and what wakes him from his daze is a loud crack of thunder, and a blinding flare of lightning. startled, he blinks a few times and reenters his body; clearing his throat. turning his head, he catches a sight of mimi actually doing his job. not wanting to seem like too much of a slacker, he pretends as if he was wiping down the cash register before striking up a conversation.

"did you bring an umbrella?" he asks, licking over his lips.

"i didn't think it would rain today, so i forgot mine at home. if you do, and if it stays bad outside, will you walk me home so we can share?"

[whatanoof]

A Push in the Right Direction

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Cal Kestis x Reader

Word Count: ~7.6k

Warnings: fluff, smut, swearing, sexual tension, rough sex, sex pollen so by default it's dubcon, pining

Summary: Healing injured patients? Psh, easy stuff. Force healing? A little more tricky. Confessing your crush to your very close friend? Damn near impossible until a flower bush shoves you in the right direction.

A/N: Happy birthday my friend @marvelassassin221b!! I hope you are staying safe, and that your birthday will bring happiness and wisdom to your life. It's been a blessing talking to you and laughing at memes together <3 Thank you for giving me the push to get this fic done and posted, I couldn't have done it without you. Enjoy some of our favorite redhead Jedi ;)

You’ve always been terrible with directions. Like, it’s a miracle you haven’t gotten lost in more dangerous settings, but even your Jedi Master used to shake their head when you had survival exercises in your Padawan years. Greez too, makes comments about how atrocious you are at navigation. You hadn’t been allowed back to the holomap since a disastrous set of directions landed the Mantis on the more unfriendly side of the Outer Rim.

But even with all of your shortcomings at mapping, you have a solid crisis mode. You need to have one as a medic. It’s not a good idea to freeze when a patient is bleeding out on the ground in front of you, there is only one way that is going to end, and it’s not going to be a happy ending. Under pressure, all of the unsureness that surfaces during your attempts at navigation vanishes, and your body is moving before your mind even consciously thinks to. It’s your zen mode, almost your place of meditation, where you give into the inner instinct and allow the Force to guide you through the process. Too bad you can’t reach that state in any situation other than emergencies, maybe you would be able to navigate your moves in confessing a crush.

You had met Cal Kestis on Bracca. He’d cut his hand open on a jagged edge of wall paneling, and Prauf brought him to you, one of the few healers among the scrappers. You couldn’t tell what exactly it was that gave him away to you, but the instant his eyes met yours, you knew where he had come from.

Of course, you waited until Prauf had gone back to work to reveal yourself. Healing through the Force decreases the chance of infection, is painless, and is essentially instantaneous. While your normal supplies would have done the trick, the drama queen in you realized this would be the perfect way to show Cal he wasn’t alone. Force healing is tricky, but you’d had a surprising knack for it ever since your youngling years. The Order had trained you up in the way of Force healing and given you the tools to take advantage of your aptitudes. Cal’s face had been priceless when you simply waved your hand over his, and the wound closed within seconds.

There was a certain comfort in knowing you weren’t alone. Admittedly, in the long years after the Purge, you’d toyed with the idea that you had been the only Jedi to escape. Those had been dark days, where you could barely scrape together the energy to forage for food and water, laughing that the Jedi Order would die with a single Padawan who had lost her lightsaber along with everything she had known.

But then Cal stumbled into your little cordoned off area. You’d become close friends from that moment to the day Prauf died and the Ninth Sister shoved you both off of the cliff and onto the freight train below. The Mantis crew was surprised, to say the least. They had gotten reports of a single Jedi wreaking havoc on Bracca. But they welcomed you aboard and you had become the team medic, patching up Cal when he got back from missions and finding time in between to try and recover the Force abilities you had lost to time.

---

“Hey.” You look up from your work. Medical supplies lie strewn across the floor of your part of the room, bandages unwound and your meager supply of medication stacked methodically in the corner.

Cal looks down at you from the doorway, a streak of something across his cheekbone. You want to wipe it off, but you just smile back, “Welcome back. Find anything cool?”

His happy grin only widens, “You’ll have to come and find out.”

“What?”

He beckons you towards the main hull, “Come on!”

Cere and Greez are already there and seated around the meal table, and BD is perched on the table, chirruping animatedly as if talking to Cere. You take your place with them, noting the empty chair to your right. Merrin is back on Dathomir, searching for ancient texts about Nightsister magic and rituals. She’s been gone for several days, but you still find yourself seeking out her snarky comments and cool confidence.

“Okay.” Cal stands at the head of the table, rubbing his hands together in a way that makes him seem as if he is playing the adult. “I’m willing to bet you're all wondering why I’ve called you here today…”

“Spit it out Cal, you woke me up from a nap for this.” Greez eyes the redhead grumpily, and you fight to hide a grin. Cere also looks mildly amused, if slightly impatient.

Cal rolls his eyes, but continues, “Cordova left a message, saying something very valuable to our quest is locked in a vault in the Zeffo caves. I found the vault today and it matches Cordova’s description, but we need two Force users to access it.” He nudges BD, and the little droid projects an image of the vault door. It’s massive, with gold decorations swirling across it, and two obvious indents in the ground on either side for said Force users.

Everyone’s gazes flit to Merrin’s empty chair. It’s without question she would have been the best fit for this mission. Her combat style complements Cal’s perfectly, and Cere is still hesitant to use the Force.

Realization strikes you, and you glance up to see everyone’s eyes are now trained on you. You begin to shake your head. “That’s a bad idea--”

“We’ll be fine. I’ll lead us directly to the vault. I have my saber, and you have your Force healing. Worst case scenario, you have to patch me up in the field.” That is definitely not the worst case scenario, but there are no other options. This mission is time-sensitive, and you can’t wait for Merrin to get back from Dathomir.

You fix him with a stern glare. “I will come. But--” You hold up a hand when Cal opens his mouth. “You have to stick with me. No disappearing and popping out to scare me, because I will get lost We go in, and we get out.“

“I wouldn--” Cal protests.

“You would.” You snap.

“Yeah, he would.” Cere agrees.

“Sounds like something you would do.” Greez nods.

BD beeps cheerily from its place in the center of the table, clearly in agreement with you.

Cal shuts his mouth with an audible pop, and you cross your arms while staring him down. Yes he would.

“I need BD back here on the ship. I’m running diagnostics on the navigation programming, and I can’t do it alone.” Cere speaks up.

Cal hesitates. You understand; he never goes on missions without BD. The two are a package deal, but everything needs to be running at peak efficiency before you go to the Fort Inquisitorius. And there’s no way you’re willing to deal with a navigation error en route.

You speak up, “Yeah, it will be fine.”

Cal looks at you, “We need BD to unlock a shortcut. What happened to in and out?”

You wave him off, “We’ll take the scenic route. Cere needs BD back here, and we can manage without. We’ll have our comm units, it will be fine.”

---

Do you know that saying, “Famous last words?”

Yeah. You hadn’t realized just how famous those last words could be. It started when Cal realized he’d left his comm unit on the ship in the charging port. But it was fine, because you had yours. Until you dropped it into a puddle after tripping over a tree root.

The scenic route involved passing through the outskirts of a forest, and the terrain was a little trickier than you had been prepared to handle, obviously. So, commless and armed with a single lightsaber and two shared brain cells, you travel towards the entrance to the Zeffo caves.

A flower bush catches your eye. Its leaves are a shocking shade of red, with gorgeous blue flowers that seem to call you over to them. Cal keeps walking even as you stop and reach for the bush. You pluck the flower in the fullest bloom and turn it over in your hand, admiring the veins of deeper azure spider webbing across the petals.

Cal says your name behind you, “We have to keep moving if we’re going to get back before dark.”

Turning to face your companion, you tuck the blossom behind his ear and step back to admire how the blue contrasts against his hair. The word slips out almost without you noticing. “Cute.”

It’s almost comical how quickly his face blooms red. “Guh--”

“It’s a good look.” You reassure him quickly. “Adorable. Pretty. Cute.”

“--Thanks!” He ducks past you to the bush. “I’m just going to grab a seedling for Greez. He’ll like this one.” Cal grabs one of the large pods and breaks it open, removing a seed and sticking it into the pouch on his harness. “Okay, ready.”

But you’re distracted by the red pollen that explodes in a cloud around his head, dusting him with a fine mist that leaves scarlet traces on his face and shoulders. “What’s that?” You step forward and run a finger across Cal’s poncho, collecting the dust and rubbing it between your fingertips. You hesitate, then raise your hand to your face to smell the substance. The sickly sweet scent and underlying current of spicy musk sticks in your lungs. The back of your throat tickles, and you sneeze.

An echoing sneeze draws your attention. Cal leans against the flowering bush, one arm clamped over his nose as he sneezes over and over again. He glances up at you, coughing with watery eyes, “Wha--”

A spike of dread pierces through you. ‘Stars, was it poison?’ He won’t stop coughing, a dry rattle as his body tries in vain to purge the intruding red dust. You fall to your knees beside him. Panic fills your mind, blotting out logic and reason and you place your hands on his body, intent on Force healing him even though you don’t know what is wrong with him. Then, just as suddenly as the coughing started, it stops and silence rings through the trees.

“Cal!”

You're shoving your hand underneath his poncho in an instant to feel for his heartbeat. You hold your breath. You can’t feel a pulse. You scramble to rip his poncho off completely, dragging it over his limp shoulders and head. You shove your fingers against his throat again. There!

His heartbeat flutters delicately, beating a rapid tattoo against your fingertips. You allow yourself to breath. He’s alive. But his pulse is fast, too fast. You rip open his tunic, though you’re not entirely certain what it is you’re searching for.

Just as your fingers brush over his skin, Cal bolts upright with a gasp. “Wh-- where...?”

You swear you almost pass out from the relief that slaps you across the face. “Stars, I thought you were dead. I’m so sorry about the flower bu-- mmm!”

Cal smashes his lips onto yours, pushing you onto your back with the sheer force of the kiss. His tongue dips into your mouth, searching and probing and damnit you can’t breathe when he’s this close to you, this desperate. His hips jerk against yours with an unpracticed, aborted motion, dragging a very prominent erection against your body that makes you jerk back in surprise.

You push him away from him for a second, propping yourself up on your elbows as you search his face for some indication of… you don’t know what. But this isn’t like him. “Cal, what--?”

“Need you.” He groans, his hands roaming over your body without fear or shame and inspiring a wave of pleasure as he squeezes your breasts. “Maker, you feel so good. Smell so good.” You bite back a moan. This really isn’t the time, not in the middle of an Imperial occupied forest. But to be completely honest, he feels really good too.

You’d imagined this before. Well, not these exact circumstances, but the idea of being under Cal. You’d imagined the feeling of his hands scraping over your skin and squeezing your body wherever he would like. You’d imagined his lips on yours, and other places for sure. But you’d really only ever been able to envision Cal as a gentle lover, all quiet moans and hesitant movements and unsure expressions. But this rougher side? You moan raggedly against Cal’s mouth as he shoves a thigh between your legs, rubbing up against your clothed sex. This is amazing.

Streaks of heat flash through your body, converging between your legs. Everything is amplified, the sounds around you, the grass beneath your knees, the blueness of the sky overhead. But it all seems to pale when your attention lands on Cal, who’s more flushed than earlier. You feel the heat beneath your skin too, but he’s got to have it worse right now, because you’re not the one sweating like you’re stranded on a desert planet. Maker, the pollen was some kind of--

His name escapes your lips in a tiny whisper that morphs into a moan halfway through. You allow your head to fall back, and it thunks against the spongy moss across the ground, knocking you back to the present. Cal’s lost in you, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as he ruts weakly against your thigh.

You shake off the haze clouding your mind, crisis mode kicking into full gear. You have no comms, one horny Jedi, and a completely hopeless sense of direction. “Cal. We have to move.”

He whines high in the back of his throat. “No.” It’s almost pleading, but there is an undercurrent of steel that makes you pause.

“Cal. We’re out in the open. Troopers co-- could--” Stars, you can feel the lust pumping under your skin, so close to the surface that it could burst out at any second. But fear hovers on the edge of your mind, pressing in and suppressing the need to jump Cal and reminding you of the certain torture and death that would occur if you were caught.

Cal doesn’t seem to have any of the same restraints as you. His fingers are carding through your hair, “Just wanna feel you. Maybe more.” His teeth latch into your neck, and the dull pain pierces through the haze more firmly.

He got dosed more heavily with the pollen. You resist the urge to curse as you gently detangle from Cal and sit up, biting back a sigh of relief as his teeth leave your skin. “We have to find shelter.” You begin to look around, but all you can see is the forest. You need something better, a place where you can figure out what exactly is wrong with Cal. You try to stand.

“Noooo…” This isn’t going to work. You actually do curse this time. How are you supposed to find effective shelter while dragging a full grown man around hostile territory without compromising stealth, all while your libido is cottoning to the edge of your mind, clouding your judgment?

“Come here…” Cal’s arm wraps around your neck, dragging you back down to the ground even as you try to stand. Okay that’s enough.

“You’ll forgive me later, Cal.” You press your thumb to his forehead and concentrate. His skin is dry and burning to your touch, and your brow scrunches. That’s going to be an issue. You reach to tap into the Force, but you pause. Your Force connection is… foggy. That’s the only way you can describe it in words, but it’s muted and dimmer than usual.

Your Jedi Master taught you a metaphor for using the Force: a barrier exists between you and access to the Force. It’s a wall, and your mind must become like a sharpened sword to pierce through and reach the Force. You can feel the barrier, just as always, but it’s like a second layer exists around it. If the normal barrier is made of thin glass, the new layer is crafted from paper; it’s strange, and thicker than usual, but still easily pierced with extra… force if you can say that without making yourself laugh at the pun. You summon the strength and press your mental sword forward through the barrier.

Rest. Cal’s eyes roll back in his head and he falls asleep with a gentle exhale. He relaxes against you, and you relax in turn when you see the pained lines smooth out of his forehead. Jedi healing includes your own personal anesthesia on demand. It will keep him under for a little bit, though you can’t tell what kind of effect the pollen will have on the Force sleep.

Through some feat of the stars themselves, you struggle to your feet. Cal’s arm is looped around your neck, and you want nothing more than to just sink down to the ground again and give into the weakness and lust pulling at your legs, coaxing you to collapse and take your pleasure. And stars, Cal’s heavier than you expected him to be.

But you shake yourself awake. Can’t get distracted. You glance at Cal’s drooping head. He’s been strong for you this entire time. The least you can do is be strong now and find some shelter. But where?

Voices filter through the trees, and your head jerks up towards the sources.

“Yeah, she told me to take the bucket off, or she would charge the full payment and…” Stormtroopers. Kriffing hell.

“Come on.” You hiss underneath your breath. You gather your legs underneath your body and push. Your muscles scream in pain, but they ultimately obey and you stumble to your feet and begin to move away from the approaching voices. Cal is dead weight over your shoulders, pulling and urging you to rest. It would be so easy to give in, to sink back to the ground and let Cal do what he wants.

The trees blur together as you move through the forest. The stormtroopers’ voices are getting louder and you grit your teeth. You don’t know their patrol route. How are you going to avoid them? All you can do is place one foot in front of the other. Then the mossy ground turns to stone underneath your feet, and you slow. Caves. Perfect.

You hurry inside, fatigued legs forgotten in your relief. There’s a bend directly beyond the mouth of the cave, and you gently lay Cal against the wall. You’re completely hidden from anyone looking from the entrance. You sit opposite him, your head falling forward to sag against your chest. Now what?

Your comm unit is busted, and Cal’s is sitting back on the Mantis, so you can’t contact the crew. You hold a hand to Cal’s forehead. His temperature is getting worse. You don’t know what infected him, so your Force healing is out of the question. The only bright spot is you’re pretty sure the stormtroopers won’t find you. They’re not exactly recruited for their brains, and you’ll be able to sense their muted Force signatures if they get close.

Speaking of…

You trail off, contemplating Cal’s unconscious face. His head sags against the rock wall and there’s a line of drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth. His brow is finally relaxed, his breathing deep and even and it strikes you that this is the most peaceful you’ve ever seen him.

You reach out through the Force. It has become a habit for you, Merrin, and Cal to find peace in each others’ Force signature. Whether nightmares or difficult missions, the others would be there as a silent comfort.

Merrin’s is a mixture of whites and creams swirling against a dark maroon background. When she uses her Force magic, there is an unmistakable green tinge through it. Hers is powerful, with a sense of underlying safety in her strength. True to form, Merrin has been a protector figure in the Mantis.

But Cal’s is more diverse, a blend of warm colors against a grey background with blue tinging the edge. But while the colors are chaotic, Cal keeps a firm hold on his Force presence at all times, never allowing it to surge violently from emotion. He does not suppress it completely anymore, but you know he has the ability to make it nearly disappear from the senses of another Force user. You should know, because you can do the same. Merrin grew up without fear of having to hide her Force sensitivity, but you and Cal survived the Purge. You both have firm grasps of your thoughts and emotions projected through the Force. So in Cal, you found a kindred spirit that understands you better than almost any other person in the galaxy could. You’ve become more familiar with his presence than even your Master’s before the Purge.

But now, your brow furrows as you search for his Force presence over and over, pushing into every crevice of the surrounding environment without violating his privacy. You’re not mistaken. It’s gone, almost as if he has been turned into a droid before your eyes. Every living thing has a Force presence, no matter how minute. But Cal’s comforting whirl of light is gone, vanished as though he is no longer connected to the--

Cal’s eyes fly open and he sits forward with a quiet gasp. You jump. It’s worn off then. You secure his body with the Force, holding him loosely so as not to cause any lasting damage. You would have to tackle the Force connection problems later.

“I need you to focus.” He pushes against the bonds with a whimper, and you bite your lip as you struggle to hold him still.

“Cal!” Your Force bind tightens, and he stills with a grunt. “Talk to me. Fight through it.”

He shakes his head, eyes screwed shut. “Hurts.”

“What hurts?”

“Every-- ah! Everything. Can’t-- can’t th-think. Only thing-- makes it better… you.”

What? Your concentration lapses and the bonds loose. He lunges forward and buries his nose into your neck again, inhaling you as his hands scrabble at your clothes. “Hurts less with you. Smell so good--soft. Please?”

Stars, you can’t think straight with him touching you like this. You bite back a moan as his hands roughly squeeze your breasts through your shirt. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt to give in. Just for a little. Indulge, and then you can figure out a way back to the Mantis. Then Cal raises your shirt and licks a long stripe up your neck, and that’s all the convincing you need.

You melt into his mouth, your hands running under his shirt and harness. His chest is just as feverishly hot as his forehead, but you can’t bring yourself to care when he swings a leg over yours so he’s hovering over you, knees planted on either side of your body. His hands shove your shirt over your head before setting to work on the button of your pants. You raise your hips to allow him to pull your pants under your butt. Your own hands yank at his clothes, silently begging him to strip with you.

But he doesn’t. He kneels between your legs and pulls your underwear to the side, exposing your wet folds.

“Cal--!” You’re cut off as he drags his tongue over your pussy, flicking against your clit at the end. Your stomach muscles contract, and it’s all you can do to keep quiet as he licks deep into your core.

---

The world is blurred. It’s like something crawled into his head and messed with his brain, dragging his focus away from more important issues… he can’t seem to remember right now. He can’t even feel the Force. His connection is compromised, the colors of the world are off, and there’s this bone deep ache within his body urging him closer to you. And as he’s drinking in your taste, the pain subsides and he can breathe again.

What is this? What’s happening to him? It has to be the pollen, it has to be its effect on his body, that’s why he’s lost all control over his mind and self. It’s why he can’t hold himself back from your body and you.

You’re all he can focus on; you’re so beautiful writhing under him as he tastes you. He’s never done this before. He can’t figure out why he hasn’t done this sooner, because you taste amazing right now and how you sound as he slides his tongue through your folds is doing things to him that he’s never experienced before.

His hips are dragging against the floor unintentionally. The friction of his dick against the rough material of his pants is a small slice of heaven, and he whimpers at the pure electricity spreading down his spine. He doesn’t want this to end so soon, but his body is shoving him towards the edge of release and the relief he knows is going to come with it.

---

A moan keens high in the back of your throat as Cal’s mouth presses against your soaked core. It’s sloppy and clumsy, but Maker if he doesn’t make up for it with enthusiasm. The only sounds coming from him are tiny moans and grunts and you shudder as his fingers dig into the pillowy flesh of your thighs, leveraging them apart and holding them there firmly. Of their own will, your hips roll up into his face, chasing after his touch.

You’re completely unprepared for Cal to growl when you do so. His grip tightens, and you squeak as your thighs are spread even farther apart and his mouth completely envelopes your clit.

Is this what heaven feels like? You can barely manage coherent thought when his tongue is devastating you like this, but thequestion rotates around your lust dumb brain as your toes curl and your back arches. Your release rushes up and sweeps you away, your core clenching as waves of pleasure wash over your body. You hear Cal whine as you cum, and you hear your own moans as you ride out your orgasm.

---

Stars, why hadn’t he done this sooner? The sounds that he’s pulling out of you right now could make him come in his pants on the spot, and the taste of your release has him rutting against the ground all the more insistently as he chases his own high.

But he doesn’t want to come in his pants, he wants to be inside of you. He wants you, your body squeezing tight around him, to feel the wetness seeping around his tongue rather than tasting it, even if it tastes divine.

He grabs your hips and yanks you down so your crotch is flush to his. He nearly loses his mind when your soaked core meets the bulge in his pants. Fuck, he thought he could wait, but he can’t.

But--something is still off with the world’s coloring. Where is the Force? The comforting pressure is gone from the back of his mind, the constant reminder of balance that keeps him in tune with his emotions and surroundings. Panic edges around the perimeter of his mind. In an act of desperation, he reaches for the Force, searching for the whispers of memories that accompany his world. They’re gone. Where did they go?

You whisper his name again, and this time his eyes meet yours.

---

You watch Cal carefully. He’s flushed, trembling as he hovers over your body, hands bare centimeters away from your skin. His eyes are desperate, and you can feel the pain in them as clearly as if it was your own. A bead of sweat tracks down his temple to soak into the collar of his harness, and he fumbles to rip the rest of his clothing off, discarding it on the floor as though it burned against his flesh.

“Cal.” He looks back at you. “Take what you need.”

It’s all the permission he needs. Relief and something else flashes through his eyes before he looks back down and fumbles with his pants fastening. His cock is flushed dark red, and his hands tremble as he pulls it out of his pants, jaw clenched as he lines up with your entrance. He slides into you with a bone-deep sigh of relief, and you cry out at the stretch. Every inch sparks pure electricity up your spine, and your eyes roll back in your head. He bottoms out, and for a heart stopping moment you feel a connection to him you couldn’t describe in words. Your hips roll against his, grinding the head of his cock up against something heavenly. Light explodes behind your eyes at the movement, arching your back and curling your toes.

Cal chokes, a beautiful sound you’ve only heard a few times before; the one that sounds like its been pulled from the deepest parts of his being, like he’s just ascended to another plane above the physical. It’s gorgeous and so insanely hot you’re completely unprepared for his sudden movement when he lunges forward.

Cal’s hand shoots out and presses against your neck, effectively pinning your upper body to the hard ground. You inhale shakily through your nose, but his grip does nothing more than hold you. You can still breathe, but the pressure on your throat sends a shock of heat between your legs with the reminder of the control you just relinquished.

“Stop that.” His other arm slams onto the stone beside your head, and your eyes lock. Cal’s pupils are blown, so dark you can almost see your reflection in the dim light of the cave as he glares down at you.

He doesn’t give you time to respond before he drags his hips away from yours, inch by painstaking inch and rocks back into your body with an easy roll of his hips. He exhales gently as he bottoms back out inside of you, a low moan rumbling out of his throat when he reaches that same depth within your heat.

It’s the eye of a storm; a hurricane you hadn’t known you’d entered. He rocks back and forth again, only there’s fractionally more force and speed to the motion this time. Again, and your body shakes with the force. Another, and you have to bite your lip to stifle the scream when he slams back into your body. It’s like the tide, coming in gradually, but more and more with each passing moment. The force swells, each thrust pushing into you a little harder and making your body shake a little more with each thrust.

A shuddering groan rumbles out of him as he finds the rhythm. The hand not pressed delicately around your throat slams down on the rock next to your head. When you look up towards the cave ceiling, Cal’s flushed skin and tousled hair fills your vision.

His hair, which is usually swept out of his eyes. Cal’s hair has always been so well cared for, usually brushed and slicked back so it doesn’t dangle in his eyes. Now, it’s soaked with sweat and falling into his face as he stares down at you like you’re the only star in the sky.

---

Take what you need? Holy stars, he can barely think enough to comprehend it, but some inner part of him aches at the sentence.

As soon as he realized his heart jumped every time you smiled at something, or that his brain short circuited at the sound of your laugh, he’d sworn he would keep it under wraps. He’d promised himself he would wait until after the galaxy finishes imploding and collapsing around your heads. The first time he’d jerked off to the idea of your body, he vowed to satisfy himself with his hand until it was safe. He’d wait until after the holocron is safe and there’s nothing to worry about, because relationships are messy and complicated and--

Fuck, he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about that promise, because how can he regret being balls deep in you while you’re whining and squirming underneath him, when you look at him with such trust even as he pins you to the floor by your throat? His eyes gravitate to the mark on your neck, red and irritated with the indent of his teeth, and he feels his cock twitch even as he continues to pound into you. He likes that.

The promise didn’t keep his eyes from wandering to your face at any opportunity. It didn’t prevent the pressure in his chest from growing over the weeks and months. It definitely didn’t keep Cere and Greez from noticing, and that was a conversation he would rather have scrubbed from his mind.

Take what you need. That one sentence is spinning his world on its metaphorical finger. Take what you need. As if he didn’t want it, but he needed to do it. In all honesty, it had really felt like he was going to die. The burning in his throat that caused the coughing fit, then the racing heart and the overheating; he thought he wasn’t going to make it unless he--

Well, unless he fucked you.

But even if he needs it, he wants it even more, had wanted it for too long. But everytime an opportunity presented itself, he pulled back. He remembers how he threw away the flowers he gathered on the mission instead of bringing them back to you on the Mantis. He remembers every time he denied spending time with you, because his emotions were too raw and close to the surface, and he couldn’t predict his control over his own tongue. Because he didn’t think he could have handled it if you didn’t want him back.

But you had offered to help. Maybe you’d wanted it too, because the whole galaxy could be shoving you in one direction and you would defy it. Nothing can make you do anything you didn’t want to, and that applies to Cal Kestis too.

---

Your orgasm swells up sharp and sudden, gripping you in its claws and shoving you into the attack of muscle spasms and searing pleasure that punches into your abdomen. Your body arches, accidentally hitting your head against the ground.

Cal’s rhythm stutters and his hips jerk forward. His hand leaves your throat as he drops to his forearms. His head drops down to press against yours gently, even as he whimpers and continues to grind forward into your soaking heat.

“Fuck.” Cal gasps, eyelids fluttering rapidly. “Fuck. ‘M gonna cum.”

There’s no time to respond before he’s drawing up and tensing against you. His hips piston in and out once, then he’s cumming and all you can do is lie there and take it. Fuck that’s hot.

You can feel him spilling into you, every warm spurt of cum and every twitch of his cock as he spends himself. Even better is the drawn out groan that trails into his upper register, ending in a tiny whimper. The tension drains out of his face and he sags down, sweaty skin pressed against yours. His arms wrap around your body and he hoists your limp body up as he rolls over. He sits against the wall of the cave, seating you on his lap, cock still firmly buried inside you.

You allow your head to sag back against his shoulder, relishing in the feeling of his body pressed so closely to yours. His hand paws weakly at the fabric of your shirt, and you raise your arms to slide it off. It’s better like this, skin to skin contact seems to calm him down. He buries his nose into your bare neck and mumbles something you can’t make out.

You nudge your head against his gently, “Hm?”

“Thank you.” His lips ghost over the delicate juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Thank you thank you thank you...” He continues to mutter the phrase into your skin, tickling your skin as he nuzzles closer to you.

You should say something. Confess, maybe, everything you’ve been hiding. “Cal, I--” You shift slightly, and something feels off. You furrow your brow and glance downwards at your joining point, “Cal are you still hard?”

He props his chin on your shoulder. “Uh--” He thrusts shallowly up into you, and you stifle a whimper. “Ye-yeah. Sorry?”

“N--” You gasp as his cock twitches. “No. Don’t be sorry. Do you need to go again?” Arousal stirs in your core again, burning a slow path through your nerves and reigniting the flames that had dulled to embers. Your breath catches in your chest and you grind your hips back into his.

“I--I think so.” His voice is strained and his breath comes in short gasps next to your ear. “Not-- not as-- as bad though.”

“That--ah!” Cal chooses that exact moment to pick a spot on your neck and latch on. He nips at the skin before soothing it with his tongue. His hands, roughened with callouses from his saber, climbing, and tinkering, scrape over your skin with just the right amount of friction. You bite your bottom lip. “That’s fine. Should I move?”

His hands find your hips and hold you firmly in place. That’s a no then. His hips rock up into yours gently, and you feel your cheeks warm at the wet sounds of your combined release. Cal grunts, “Let me.”

So you do. You lie back against his bare chest and just take what he gives you, whimpering whenever he brushes against that spot inside you that sends electricity up your spine. You’re gripping his arms so hard you’re sure he’s going to have bruises in the shape of your fingers.

---

Stars, you’re fucking perfect. Just lying here and giving yourself to him. He can feel the Force dimly, but it’s there. The pollen is leaving his system as he slowly fucks you on a cave floor in the middle of a dense forest while stormtroopers patrol outside.

You cry out with his next thrust, the head of his cock striking something inside of you that must feel good because you clench around him and--

Did you just come again?

The additional lubrication only increases the lewd squelch with every thrust, the mixture of his cum and yours only making sliding in and out of your channel easier. He can still feel the effects of the pollen at the back of his mind, and it keeps him hard and sensitive as he continues to fuck you.

He’s aware he should be at least a little worried about the implications, starting at the top with how he’s going to complete the mission and ending with what exactly fucking on a cave floor means for your relationship. Somewhere in the middle is the stormtroopers and the pollen, and the oath of the Jedi Order forbidding relationships. But he can’t grasp it.

Even if there are more pressing concerns, all he can do right now is continue pushing his hips up into your soaking core painstakingly slowly. He wants to enjoy this while he can, while he’s able to fool himself that you want him back. Unless…

---

The only solace you could find in the situation was that you could have Cal, even for these few short moments. Because as much as you may want to convince yourself, a tiny voice inside your head keeps whispering: it’s all the pollen. That’s the only reason why he wants you. And you force yourself to believe the voice, because it’s easier to block off any chance for pain and rejection.

But you know you’re in trouble the second Cal opens his mouth. The words are a harsh whisper, rasping out of his dry throat into your ear, “Beautiful. So gorgeous, giving me what I need, what I want.”

You arch against him and stifle the whimper rising in the back of your throat. His mouth is right next to your ear, so there isn’t anywhere for you to escape from the words that rumble into your brain; words you try to convince yourself are empty. You shove your hand against your mouth rather than allow any sound to escape.

He moans, “Want to do this again. Don’t want this to be just once.”

“Th--that--that’s the pollen talking.” You gasp when you feel his fingers graze over your clit, your own hand drifting back to latch into his hair.

Cal hisses when you tug with a little more strength than necessary, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. One hand supports your weight as he moves you up and down on his dick, the other rubbing little circles around your clit. His hips make up for the lost strength everytime they drive up into you at the lowest point of the rhythm, squelching with every thrust.

“Not--not the pollen. All you. All me.”

You blink, all temporarily forgotten when the words register in your hazy mind. “...What?”

“Wanted this. Wanted this for a while.” Cal finds your clit with his fingers, and you can’t prevent the way your legs jerk and your body seizes against his.

Fuck you’re going to cum. If the first orgasm was a flashfire, this one is a slowly simmering blaze. It creeps up slowly, burning a hole through your abdomen, curling around your ribs and inching down your legs. Your eyes roll back, and your head falls back against Cal’s shoulder.

“Cal. I--I thi--” You try to warn him, you really do. But words aren’t forming correctly right now, and it’s all you can do to hunker down and try to prepare yourself for this truly devastating crest that’s preparing to launch you over the edge.

If Cal gets your warning, he doesn’t show it. All he does is turn his head to the side, press a light kiss to your cheek, and groan, “I think I love you.”

Oh shit. Cal’s timing couldn’t have been more perfect if he planned it. Before you can respond, hell, before you can even begin to fucking process that last sentence, you’re coming hard. Maybe it’s the whiff of pollen you got earlier, or the fact that Cal is the one fucking you so sweetly and thoroughly, or the thrill of being mere steps away from discovery, or a combination of all of it, but this orgasm certainly feels like the most intense of your life.

Spasms ripple outward through your belly, curling you up in Cal’s lap as you ride out your high. Your legs straighten and your toes curl and you clamp down hard around Cal’s cock.

Cal shouts raggedly in your ear, pulling your body close. But even as you whimper and shake on the end of his cock, you remember that you can’t make too much sound.

As if he heard you, Cal burrows his face into your shoulder, his teeth once again finding a place in your skin to muffle his voice as he cums deep inside you once more. His body shakes as he spends himself again, the spasms slowly subsiding with every jerk of his hips into yours.

‘I did hear you.’ There’s a tinge of amusement to the nonexistent voice that echoes in your mind, and you relax back against Cal.

‘Feeling better?’ You nudge him back through the Force, revelling in the feeling of his colorful presence swirling around you once again. The pollen has worn off.

He doesn’t say anything in response, only pulls you close with his arms around you. His mind pushes at yours, and you let him in. You’ve done this a million times, usually on the tail end of nighttime panic attacks, but this time is different. This is the most loose he has ever been with his Force presence, and you allow it to fill the empty parts of your mind. Wait, he loves you?

He rushes over you in the same way the tide comes back to land, calming your fear at finally understanding the weight of his last confession. He’s relaxed, and the familiar energy has a new angle to it, a new emotion you hadn’t felt before in another’s Force signature. You grasp it gently, turning it over and admiring it in the eye of your mind. What is it?

The answer rushes to you just as Cal mutters against your skin, “Love.” The same thing you’d been feeling in the pit of your heart every time you looked at Cal, everytime he kept you safe from the nightmares in his arms and stayed with you until morning, every time you made him tea and did maintenance on his gear after a tough mission.

“I love you.”

You blink up at the ceiling of the rock cave, mouth open with the words just on the tip of your tongue. But they won’t come. The words are stuck in your throat, and try as you might, you can’t make yourself say them.

“Hey.” Cal whispers in your ear, and you shut your mouth. “You don’t have to say it back. But you know that I do, and I know a little of what’s going on up here.” His finger taps the side of your head lightly. "You don't have to figure out where to go from here. I'll navigate."

‘Thank you.’ You send the words through the Force, and he acknowledges them. Yeah, you're shit at knowing where to go when it comes to feelings. But at least with Cal, you won't have to worry about getting lost alone. You sit in peaceful silence for a few minutes, before a thought occurs to you.

“Cal.” His name is little more than a weak rasp off your tongue. You clear your throat and try again. “Cal.”

He grunts unintelligibly.

“Don’t bring that seed back to the Mantis.”

A/N: I will be the first to admit that this fic was hard, because I wanted to incorporate some previous feelings into this to make it less dubcon, and I didn't feel that all plot holes were filled. But that didn't make this any less enjoyable for me, and it was fun to explore a new facet of Cal's character.

Thanks for everyone who gave me inspiration and motivation to keep pushing this through the old brain up here. Smut isn't the easiest for me:)

Taglist: @alliterative-albatross

[jesslockwood]

Photo Opportunities

Word Count: 2.7k

Pairing(s): Tom Holland x Actress!Reader

Warnings: FLUFF with a slightly (barely) suggestive sentence towards the end 

A/n: damn I can't write anything except actress reader? smh but this is for @londonspidey ‘s sit-com Writing challenge (ik I'm early lol) but I was so excited I wrote the whole thing in one go lmao the prompt is bolded!

Calling yourself a fan was an understatement. You were obsessed with anything and everything marvel. And oddly enough, you could after today say you were in the club. It wasn’t a public fact yet, until later that day actually, at the Marvel panel at comic con that you were being announced as the actress for the character, Felica Hardy and no one else knew except for the people who cast you and your best friend who signed an NDA. You were technically still a known actress for your roles on television mainly as Thalia on the PJO Disney + series and a couple of still decently sized films. 

You were currently wrapping up signing autographs for fans of yours for today. Your team had planned it out so it wasn’t suspicious that you were at the con with a few of your castmates scattered doing other junkets and press so people wouldn’t guess who they were acting as the cast for new marvel projects. 

You had been planning to go meet your best friend, who wasn’t in the industry before getting a text that she bought you both a photo-op with someone and she wouldn’t tell you who. You couldn’t only assume it was a marvel actor that you would indeed, freak out. 

Y/b/n: btw I brought you a mask. I get the wig lol.

You: please tell me it doesn’t cover my full face. Also, how are we posing?

Y/b/n: I bought as many photo ops as I could so a lot of different ones, And if I tell you the poses it’ll spoil it.

You: is this with the money I pay you to be my assistant with? Lol fine I’m omw with security

Y/b/n: maybe… 

Y/b/n: and they’ll need more backup security for who we’re getting a photo op with than you do for your hellfire.

You roll your eyes before taking your stuff and exiting the booth, before heading out the backways with staff security and your detailed security for the day. You only had security because you wanted to explore the con when you weren’t needed.

Your best friend had also been your assistant for the con weekend, but you didn’t want her to be confined to you the whole three days so when she could, you would let her explore it, at least she could experience it as a fan, right?

When you made it to that part of the building, you wanted to wait in line with her, which your security didn’t agree to so she texted you when there were about five people ahead of her. She was one of the last in line, with you asking her to be kind, so others would get their chance to be first with whomever it was. 

When she texted you and your detailed exit, getting a few stares and others taking their phones out to either take photos or tweet, you wave at them before joining your best friend in line.

“Here,” she says before handing you none other than a black cat mask before she puts on a red wig. 

You glare at her slightly trying to not make a scene, before putting it on. 

“I’m assuming you're Mary Jane?” you laugh figuring out that it had to be someone from Spider-Man.

“How’d you- never mind.” She laughs with you.

She then explains how she’s going to pose for your five photo ops, joking in between how she should “get a raise for this”.

You catch sight of him before sucking in your breath. This was either going to go down amazingly or terribly, there was no in-between with you. 

“Excuse Me, are you Y/n Y/l/n?”

You turn around and are met by some fans who were standing in line behind you.

“I am! How’s your con going?” you ask politely to the two of them.

“It's going amazing! We love you as Thalia! Could we maybe get a picture? Only if it’s okay?”

“Of course! Thank you for supporting me!” your best friend grabs their phone to take the photo, before you take off the mask, and stand between the two fans, and your best friend snaps a few photos. 

“Thank you so much! And Are you fans of Tom?”

You start slowly walking back to catch up to the line. 

“Yeah, I love him as Spiderman, but I also enjoy his other roles. He's very talented, I'd love to work with him one day!” 

“Have you seen him in Uncharted?  We love Him as Nathan drake!”

“I have, he was amazing per usual! How are you two posing with him?”

They show you their innovative pose. You laugh and tell them it's great before you have to wish them goodbye before heading up for your turn for the photo op. 

“How do we want to pose- hang on, I recognize you!”

You freeze slightly before your friend mouths for you to flirt. You look down at the mask in your hand before getting into character and saying “Of course you do Spidey, I'm always causing you trouble.” you put on the mask and wink. 

He seems slightly stunned, laughing, feeling like he’s seen you somewhere, not only because he found you extremely gorgeous, while in his peripheral vision he sees his brother/ assistant, Harry waving like a madman on the side. 

Your friend directs you both through the poses, first, one both him putting “webs” onto you as she looks over his shoulder, the second one, both of you kissing his cheeks, the third, all jumping in the air in your best superhero poses, the fourth one she gets a photo op alone and the last one she gives to you,

“Seriously, who are you?”

“Your Wildest dreams, baby,” you say, taking off the mask. 

Your best friend yells “freestyle” from the sidelines before Tom dips you, gently, with you shocked, holding the mask out with your free arm and the photo captures that moment. 

 He gently helps you stand back up fully, not before you drop the mask.

“Nice moves Spider-Man.”

“Not so bad yourself, Black Cat.”

You laugh before, taking off with your best friend, well more her dragging you to the printing station leaving the mask behind. Tom picks it up before shoving it in his back pocket to hopefully give back if he could find you. 

-

`You were sitting in the green room, trending on Twitter before you were actually supposed to be trending on Twitter, and god knows where else.  

Someone had snuck a video of you and Tom, up till him dipping you, and a video of you interacting with the fans in the line.

Your Y/b/n was currently reading off some tweets out loud

“‘A kind queen we stan.’  I agree, I also agree with ‘Date her if you can't date me tom!!!’.

‘THALIA AND PETER PARKER??? My two fandoms have collided.’ same, same. Oo this one says, ‘if she ain’t playing black cat I will sue marvel.’ I'm dying at the reply ‘She needs to post the photos or I'll sue her!’. This one’s funny, ‘she could squash him like a bug in heels but he liked his queen like that.’.”

She pauses watching you texting.

“Y/n? Y/n?”

“What? Sorry I was only half listening. I was texting my publicist. She said to stay on the DL until tonight. 

“Well we should get food, you haven't eaten since this morning.”

“By the way, your show has shot to number one on Disney +. Also, you have like three times the followers you had before, probably cause you're trending on every platform, even Tumblr!”

“Wow you should just become my social media manager now.” you joke trying to ease the joy yet weirded out feeling in your stomach.

“Does that come with a raise? Because after today I've spent way too much of what I'm paid.” she jokes back.

-

After finishing his photo ops Tom asked Harry who she was and to find out. By the time he finished autographs for the day, Tom and Harry walked to the panel room in the back for announcements, one that included him for the new Avengers movie, while Harry gave him the rundown.

“So she’s an actress, she plays Thalia on Disney plus’ Percy Jackson series, and that's her most known project. The other girl with her is her assistant best friend, and now she's trending everywhere. People dug up some old photos of her being a marvel/Spider-Man fan, so there's that. And she's here at the con for the rest of the weekend. She's doing photo ops tomorrow at one, and yes she's single from what I gather since you were looking at her like this.” he makes a weird face before tom smacks him.

“And plus you have time in your schedule to get a photo op with her, that is if you eat lunch quickly.”

That gave Tom an idea. 

“Harry I’m going to need you to book me one, oh and help me find a Spider-Man costume!” He says, before leaving harry to do ‘assistant’ work. entering the green room for the announcements, watching them announce a new movie.

“We are so excited to announce to the Marvel Universe, and spider-verse-” that perked tom’s ears, “-directed by Gina Prince-Bythewood, and today we are announcing our amazing Miss Felicia Hardy, please give a warm welcome to the stage, Your Black Cat!”

You suddenly emerged in an aisle way, dressed in all black with a leather jacket, black ankle boots, and of course black sunglasses indoors.

The music is marvel music until it suddenly changes after a recorded laugh from you into “I can’t be tamed by Miley Cyrus”.

You start owning the music while saying hi and touching fans’ hands. You decide to take off your sunglasses and throwing them to a fan, for them to keep, before getting on stage.

“What a Performance from the one the only Y/n Y/l/n!”

You laugh, being met with the loudest applause you had heard all con before being handed a Mic. 

“Thank you but I'm a terrible dancer.” You Joke.

Tom was staring at the screen stunned. You had been the black cat all along. You were in the marvel universe and spidey one,  so he'd definitely be seeing more of you. The hard part is that you seemed so genuine when you talked, interacted with fans and was no doubt, stunning. 

“Better close your mouth or the flies will get in.” Tom turns around to find the voice of none other than his friend slash bully, Sebastian Stan, along with Anthony Mackie.

“Looks like the kid has a crush!” Anthony laughs, pointing to the screen you were on.

“I-I don’t! I don’t even know her!” Tom tries to come to his own defense, hopelessly.

“She’s got you whipped already don’t even deny it.” Harry comes in, joining the teasing of one, Tom Holland.

“Maybe we can invite her out for drinks tonight, then fanboy over here can meet her, and then probably scare her off!” Anthony mentions.

“You haven’t looked on the internet? They’ve already met.” Seb says, before showing Anthony twitter. 

Anthony stands there slightly shocked before bursting into laughter.

“Well, she’s damn well a keeper for Tom since she obviously likes him.”

A staff member peaks their head in the green room to tell Tom he’s up next.

“Well, that’s my cue to leave you two!”

On the other hand, you were on an adrenaline high from being on stage, and seeing all the fans. You knew tomorrow was going to be crazy, as you expected people to book your photo op left and right since the announcement. 

You had decided to decline an offer from your fellow marvel universe castmates, Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie, which they so graciously told you that whenever you’re free, the offer still stood. 

You had gotten to your hotel room seeing your phone blowing up on the social media apps for the second time that day. 

You responded to the important stuff, before heading to bed, knowing it was going to be hectic.

-

You had been right, it was absolutely insane, the number of people who showed up. You had fully booked all your time slots for photo ops. You had seen so many people dressed up in marvel cosplay, ranging from Loki to Ironman, even some people dressed up as your character, which was wildly insane to see.

You had been nearing the end of the line and had enjoyed every moment with the fans, and you couldn’t wait for your autographing session later that day, to truly get a chance to talk to the fans and connect with them and how they felt about you being their beloved Black Cat. 

After a few more photos, posing how they wanted, you see a fully dressed, head to toe, mask and all, Spider-Man. You had seen some spider-mans but most took off their masks to snap a picture. The person was the last in line. 

“Hey Black Cat.” The southern American accented voice tells you, seeming very familiar. 

“Hey, Spider, what poses do you have up your sleeve?” you ask kindly.

“I bought a few, Cat.” they laugh.

“Okay, You can do whatever a spider can right?” you pull out a line out of the comics jokingly.

“I can do flips if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Is that some kind of nerd pick-up line? Because it’s only kind of working.” you laugh. 

“I really can, but this is one.”

He gets down on one knee, holding a black cat mask instead of a ring. The photographer captures the shocked expression on your face.

“I- Don’t- What- Spider I-” 

“Ow My feelings…” Suddenly their voice changes into a British accent before they pull off the mask to reveal-

“Tom?”

“I guess you don’t have a spidey sense darling?” The photographer captures the moment without warning eating the moment up. 

You laugh at that. 

“I guess you found out my true identity Spider. And it’s nice to officially meet you, Tom.”

He laughs, just as nervous as you, he notices he has gotten closer to you and a strand of hair loosely is blowing in your face, so naturally, he pushes it behind your ear. Another snap of the camera can be heard. 

“NOW KISS!” a voice belonging to your best friend yells from the side, mid-eating a churro.

You both laugh really hard at that.

The both of you calm down, slowly leaning lost in the moment. The camera snaps again. You both look at the photographer weirded out, and they just shrug.

“Wait can you actually do a flip?” you ask, pulling away, not wanting prying eyes aka the photographer, to pry in your business. 

“I can, though I’d show you later, maybe in the greenroom?”

“That sounds naughty, but, sure.” you joke around. 

He laughs before, you both take off from the area going to grab the photos.

-

After spending most of the day together when you could, you get Tom’s number, before heading back to your hotel room. He texts you as soon as you get back. 

Spider: I had fun today, minus finding our assistants making out.

You: we should ‘snog’ too, it’ll gross them out ;)

You: I had fun too btw. Are you leaving tomorrow?

Spider: lol we should. And yeah an early flight, 6 am to be exact. Hbu?

You: Yeah me too... another day another dollar lol

Spider: ill miss you, Cat.

You: stop talking like we’ll never see each other again lol. As a matter of fact, come to my room, we’re watching a movie!

Spider: alright, I’ll order snacks. 

  You sigh smiling at your phone. You haven’t felt this giddy in a long time.

Your phone pings with a few Instagram notifications.

Tomholland2013 has started following you.

Tomholland2013 has tagged you in a photo.

You open Instagram to find the photo of him “proposing” to you posted.

“Ow, my leg, my- feelings...Welcome to the Universe, Cat.” the photo is captioned. You decide to post, the photo of him dipping you.

“So what do you say, Spider? Wanna help me pull off the Heist of the Heist of the Century?” you caption it, Before getting comfortable to watch a movie. 

What an opportunity ;)

Tags:

@lolooo22 @webmeupspiderdaddy @harryhollandsgirlfriend @spideyspeaches @greenorangevioletgrass @queenofthepouges @sheranatic111 @keithseabrook27

[toggle1-mrfipp]

Unexpressed Words

Mrfipp: I decided to write a little something.

Marcy gets closure. Or at least tries to.

000

The last years had bee pretty great for Marcy Wu if she was being honest with herself. She had finally finished up her web comic, the final page posted online and met with much appraisal by her fans, all the words of praise and the fanart had certainly caused her heart to swell. Merchandise was certainly selling well and she was currently in talks to get physical copies of her comic printed, which would become available in the next few months. Her recent dabbling into animation led to her helping a friend with a pilot short for a show they wanted to make, and it got picked up they said there was a spot for a full time animator open for her. Between that, and ideas for a new comic shaking around in her head, she certainly had options where to take her life in the future.

She even managed to get back in touch with Anne and Sasha!

After she moved away, they stayed in contact, constant texts and video chats, her flying back over several times, but the further they got into high school, those contacts became more spaced out, until it reached a point where one day she realized that she hadn’t even talked to either of them in months. It hurt to think their relationship had drifted apart that much, but it wasn’t all bad. Despite her own fears and anxieties, she did make new friends in high school, and they liked the same books and games and anime as she did, and as much as she missed and loved Anne and Sasha, it was honestly refreshing to hang out with people who shared her interests, who would happily talk to her about the things she liked because they liked them too. Even today she’s still friends with some of the. Right now she’s the DM for an online game of Creatures and Caverns that they hold weekly.

When Sasha contacted her, asking if she wanted to get together for Anne’s twenty-third birthday, it didn’t take much for her to say yes, and when all three of them met up again, for the first time in years,she almost cried. Still, their dynamic was different, she couldn’t really describe it, but there was something different about the way they talked to one another that wasn’t the same when they were children. It wasn’t different bad, just different. It didn’t stop them from laughing and having fun and catching up, and almost feeling like it hadn’t been years since they've done this. Still, they’ve changed, they’re grown women now, so how their friendship forms will reflect that.

So when the time to go home came, she expected them to go their separate ways once more, but on that, she was wrong. They were talking more, they messaged one another and kept each other up to date on their lives and were all too happy to share; like her possibly careers paths, Sasha teaching fencing in her spare time, Anne admitting that her desire to get a doctorate is partially spite-fueled so she can rub it into the faces of the teachers who thought she would go nowhere in life.

It’s been pretty great for her.

Then the portal opened.

The original portal machine that Terri had built could only make a small rift, much to small to let anyone through, and it required an insane amount of power to do just that, only becoming usable when exposed to the power of one of the gems, which was no longer available. As far as anyone assumed, any returns trips to Amphibia were a dream at best.

But after over a decade of work, they managed to make another machine, able to create a stable portal the size of a door to allow easier travel between the worlds.

Of course, the three of them were contacted the instant they were sure it was safe.

Coming back to Amphibia was nearly overwhelming, almost like a dream, but she knew this was real, that she was actually back, and the changes were amazing. A council had taken rise, filled with amphibians from all walks of life, to allow better and more fair ruling over the land. The discovery of a new continent, one populated by reptiles had sparked the beginnings of a new industrial age, one separate from the old technology of Newtopia’s past. There were airships now! How cool was that?!

Then there had been the reunions.

Sasha and Grime had first tried to be stoic and professional, but it didn’t take long before they broke down into tears and they hugged.

There was no hesitation however when Anne met the Plantars, with everyone bawling the moment they one another another. Gosh, Anne looked so happy to see Sprig again.

It was honestly pretty funny to see Anne, the biologist, trying to figure out how a snail and a bird ended up having children.

She herself was happy to see Yunan and Olivia again, the latter having actually become of the more influential members of the council. They even adopted a couple of kids! That was great, and she was happy with them.

Still, there is one thing she had been avoiding since she came back, and with them leaving tomorrow, she knows she needs to do this now.

It’s how she finds herself here, standing in front of this massive tree, deep in a thick forest, with a simple headstone in front of her.

Andrias Leviathan, it read.

Well, she finally worked up the nerve to ask about him, but even as Olivia told her, as she guided her here, still had trouble thinking it was real, but now that she is, she doesn’t know what to think.

It’s small and simple, the morbid thought that comes to her is, it really undersold that the massive body beneath her feet was once a king who sat on the throne for one-thousand years.

“How?” she asked, her voice a bit more quite than she thought it would be.

For a moment, Olivia says nothing, maybe trying to think of the best was to answer, before finally speaking. “It was decided that as penance, he would spend his days replanting the forest he destroyed, and it was a punishment he readily accepted without any trouble. The forest you see around you were not here over a decade ago, so he did his job.”

Marcy looked around to the forest. It was an impressive sight, did he really do al this himself?

“As you recall,” Olivia continued. “That his battle with Anne left him injured and his cybernetics damaged, we offered to repair him, we knew that he had no intention of ever being a danger to anyone again, but he always refused. After four years, he one day just... stopped.”

“...oh.”

There is silence now, neither one of them saying anything. Only the wind and the animals of the woods spoke.

“Marcy,” Olivia said, after a time. “While we knew that your return was an unlikely event, before he died he asked me to give this to you, should you somehow come back.” From somewhere, Marcy didn’t know, Olivia pulled out an envelope, and with hands that suddenly felt too heavy did she take it. “I will give you some time alone now, to make whatever peace you want, but should you need me, just know I won’t be too far off.”

With that, Olivia was away, leaving Marcy alone.

She looks to the grave, and back to the envelope, thumbs tracing the edges of the message, debating what should she do with it. A part of her wants to throw it away, another wants to stick it in her bag and never think about it again. Another...

She opens it.

Dear Marcy, should this letter somehow ever make it too you.

During our time together, I lied to you, manipulated you, turned your fears and anxieties against you and your friends before nearly killing you, and serving you to the Core to be violated in both body and mind. You have every right to hate me, to look up my memory in revulsion, and to curse my very name from the deepest reaches of the earth to the expanses above the stars. You suffered greatly because of me.

Despite this, you still chose to say goodbye to me on that day, despite everything that had happened.

There was so much I wanted to say to you, but I knew that there would be nothing I could say that would right the wrongs I have committed against you. Even now, in this letter, do words fail to completely express how I feel.

Despite everything that followed, I did truly enjoy the time we spent together, you brought a happiness into my life that I had forgotten how to feel, and I wish, more than anything else in this world, that I had the strength and courage to listen to my heart instead of that parasitic amalgamation.

I know I don’t have the right to say this, but thank you Marcy, truly thank you for your kindness, and granting me the honor of being your friend, and how I truly sorry I am.

Sincerely, Andrias

PS This might now be the best time to talk about it, but during the invasion I had sent some frobots to try and collect the rest of the Cynthia Coven series, which they did manage to do so I was able to read the rest of them before my eyesight went. I only have so much paper to write on, so I’ll be brief about it, but I thinking beating the Queen of The Below with the Ring of Sealed Truths at the end was a bit contrived, but I really did enjoy how every characters’ arcs came to a close.

Marcy looked down at the letter, going over it several more times, trying to process how to feel and think about this. Until it suddenly came to her, so suddenly that she was surprised to see herself act like that.

“Really?” she said, a laugh escaping her. “Your last words, your dying words, and you spend them talking about a book?”

She kept laughing, laughing so loud because of how ridicules it was, so hard that she fell to her knees, clutching at her stomach and tears streaming down her face.

At some point, she didn’t know when, but the laughter turns into sobs as she found herself wracked with grief.

It was some time before she calmed down, composed herself enough to trust herself to say anything, before finally looking up at the grave.

“I... I want to forgive you,” she said, her voice hoarse from the laughter and crying. “But I don’t know if I... can? Should? I just, I just don’t know.” When strength finally returned to her legs, she pushed herself up and slowly made her way to the grave. “I get why you did the things you did, having that thing hover over your shoulder like that, I mean, I can relate to that to some degree.” There was a small, tired laugh. “You know, I never told you this, but there was a time where I thought you made a good father figure to me, but I-” She stops, what else could she say? “It’s not an excuse, but I get it, and I guess what I want to say is...”

What did she want to say? She didn’t know, she tried to think of it, but nothing came to. So instead, she didn’t think.

“I just wish things had been different too.”

Feeling drained, Marcy looked back down to the letter, crumpled in her clenched fist, before smoothing it out, before returning it to its envelope and placed it in her bag.

With nothing left, Marcy turned around and walked away, giving on last look over her shoulder.

“Bye,” she said, in a small voice.

[allegra-writes]

"Bad together"

Prologue: Benjamin Reilly

Peter Parker x Reader

General audiences

Warnings: none.

"And if I'm dead to you

Why are you at the wake?

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed"

My tears ricochet - Taylor Swift

"... It's a disaster! Look at her! It's like someone took a look at Black Cat, selected everything that made her sexy and then took it out!"

Black Cat. The name froze the young photographer on his tracks right outside his boss' office. He hadn't heard that name in a long time, the last sighting had been well over a year ago. He would know.  After all, it had been him, the very last person to have seen Felicia Hardy, alive or dead.

"What are you talking about? That looks hot af, not to mention badass!" Jade's persuasive voice reached his ears, making him smirk: It was no secret the chief editor had a soft spot for the young intern. And, on her part, the petite brunette was a firecracker. Poor old Jameson didn't stand a chance. "Come on, dad. Single handedly taking down three of the Kingpin's goons? That's impressive. It deserves to be one of the slides!" 

"Not if we don't get a higher quality picture. That blurry video is good enough for a thumbnail, but not for a slide" Slides were a big deal, they were the Dailybugle.net's equivalent of a front page, and if J. Jonah Jameson took something seriously, it was his web site. He prided himself in the quality of the "receipts" of his "tea", as if that validated the trashiness of the bullshit articles he posted, more fiction from hyper imaginative wannabe writers than serious work from real reporters. 

"Well, then let's get the pictures. Where is that star photographer of yours?" 

The photographer rolled his eyes, typical Jade. As if the queen of cool didn't know his name. As if she hadn't graced his bed a handful of times already. 

"That's a good question. Dolores, get me Reilly!"

"I'm here, Jonah" Ben finally stepped inside the office, throwing an envelope on Jameson's desk before throwing himself on a chair across it. He could feel Jade's eyes on him, almost like a physical caress, trailing from the long, slick back curls on the top of his head, to the muscles of his arms, threatening to rip open the seams at the sleeves of his white t-shirt, to his jean clad thighs. Still, he didn't turn to look at her, refusing to give her the satisfaction. 

"What do you have for me today, boy?"

Ben gesticulated vaguely with his head in the direction of Jade, and Jameson caught the hint. 

"Jade, out!" 

"But, dad, my story!" The petulant reply left her mouth before she could stop it, undoubtedly the product of years of habit. But she had the grace to look embarrassed and leave the office without another word, trying to save whatever professionalism she had left. 

Once she was gone, Jameson opened the envelope, flipping through the various pictures of a masked figure swinging around New York in a black and red suit. 

"Hmmm… these are good" the older man praised, staring at the images of a frustrated robbery at 5th avenue

Ben snifled nocomitically,

"There was a fire at 16th avenue happening at the same time" He offered, "we could use that. Spider-Man forgets his roots and leaves his old neighborhood to fend for itself, running off to save some pretty socialite…"

"Oh, that is excellent! See, this is why I like you, kid. You have initiative. Unlike these snowflakes out there. Oh, but Spider-Man is a hero. Hero, my ass"

"Well, when you watch your so called hero sit back and do nothing as your life gets destroyed" Ben shrugged, "the rose colored glasses tend to fall off…"

Jameson made a face at that,

"Yeah, about that… I'm sorry. For the role the Daily Bugle played on that…"

Ben shook his head, 

"You thought you were getting the truth out there. It's not your fault to have been played, along with half the world. Plus," he added, sounding genuinely enthusiastic, "you gave me this job. And now we can really tell the truth"

"Even when our idea of the truth is somehow different" The older man scoffed, flipping around a picture of Spider-Man sat on what appeared to be a hammock of his own webs, eating a hamburger and reading something that looked suspiciously like a comic book, "Still hung up on that high schooler theory of yours?"

"Well, if it talks like a brat and acts like a brat…" Ben took out another envelope, this time containing a few burger king wrappers and, effectively, a spider-man comic book. 

"Where did you even get these?"

"Harlem" was Ben's curt reply, and Jameson knew that was as exact a location as he was going to get. 

"So you still believe this is a copycat? Some kid playing dress up"

Ben simply shrugged again. 

"Well, there seems to be an epidemic of those lately" Jameson admitted, indicating Ben to come closer, passing a tablet to him, "Jade just handled me this, take a look"

Ben took a deep breath, steeling himself, already knowing what he was going to see in it. Yet, a part of him couldn't help but hope to be wrong. To hope the silver haired figure facing three much bigger, stronger looking ones as he pressed play, wasn't the same one he had spent weeks memorizing last summer. Wasn't the body he had found solace in, when everything fell apart, once again, for the hundredth time in his life. 

To hope it wasn't you. 

But when in his twenty-two or so years of existence, had things ever gone his way? 

Ben felt the screen crack under his fingertips.

"I've heard of her" he lied through his teeth, "didn't even think she was real, to be honest. Extremely elusive, and cunning." That much was true, "I don't understand how something as mundane as a security camera managed to catch her…" 

Unless you wanted to be caught, that was. 

"Well, I don't care if she's the fucking Loch Ness monster, I want an HD picture of her on my desk tomorrow to go with Jade's article. I already have a headline: New Catastrophe Jen wreaks havoc on Hell's Kitchen" Jameson's eyes lit up with glee as he weaved his hands up in the air, like writing on an invisible marquee. 

Ben snorted

"Don't you mean Calamity Jane?"

Jameson's face fell, the color rising to his cheeks, characteristic vein popping on his forehead. 

"I meant what I meant, boy! Now, what are you still doing here? You have 24 hours to get me that picture"

"I'm going to need 72," came Ben's unphased reply, "and I want twice what you pay me for the spidey pics"

Jameson's vein looked about ready to explode,

"48 hours. And deal."

Ben jumped from his seat and bolted out of the office before his boss could change his mind, not realizing until it was too late that he was on a collision course with a sweet looking short haired blonde girl. 

"Watch where you're going! Jeez!"

"Me? You're the one who crashed against me!" 

Ben rolled his eyes, but crouched next to the girl anyway, helping her gather the papers that had been sent flying on impact back together.

"Peter? Oh my god, is that you?"

Of course. What an idiot, he should had recognized that annoying, shrilly voice the second he heard it. It had caught him off guard, something he knew he couldn't afford. But how could he had ever imagine he could run into Betty fucking Brant, Yale cum laude, in the freaking dailybugle.net headquarters of all places?

"Sorry, sweetheart. You must confuse me with someone else…" He mumbled, lowering his head even more in a vain attempt to hide his face.

"Of course not!" She insisted, "You're Peter, Peter Parker, we went to Midtown together!"

"Miss, I have no idea what you're talking about…"

"Don't be silly, Peter!" She chuckled, completely deft to his tone or the way his whole demeanor had changed the second she had called him by the old name. "How have you been? Oh, just wait until I tell Ned, he's going to be so-"

CRACK.

At last, the tablet that had been in peril ever since Jameson had put it in Ben's hands, the one that contained his assignment, met its demise, both broken halves falling to the ground, along with all the papers he had picked up for Betty. It was several moments before he could get the shaking of his hands under control, before the tar black rage inside him subsided enough for him to be able to move without shifting. But it had.

"Peter Parker is dead." He deadpanned, dark brown eyes finally meeting Betty's stunned blue ones, "Tell Ned that, he'll probably be glad to hear it"

With that, he stood up and walked away, leaving a confused and agitated Betty behind. 

To be continued...

[angel-letters]

snow days

PAIRING: levi ackerman x gender netural reader (can be taken as platonic or romantic)

DISCLAIMER: while not directly stated this story does deal with depression, and i understand that sometimes reading stories such as this one can make your own depression worse, so please feel no obligation to read it. your own mental health should be your priority. it is also important that if you are not feeling well that you reach out those around you, you’re not alone in your battle. there are also curse words, because apparently i can’t go without cursing.

WORD COUNT: 3551

DOLL’S NOTE:  did i project onto this because my own therapy session was cancelled because of the snow and maybe the fact that i just hate the snow in general because it makes me feel crappy? maybe possibly, but what can you expect when i’m supposed to get 4-8 inches when normally we get less than an inch? also, before i got the chance to finish writing this i had to go work and while i was working i was reading the web comic the maid and the vampire, so as i was writing the last part of this i kept thinking of millard, like the feelings i have for that man, oh my. also, once again, a thank you to @setenuma​ for helping me edit this garbage.

The Writing Room!

You hated the snow. You hated the way the cold of it seemed to seep deep into your bones, how it made your limbs feel like lead, and turned your fingers blue. But most of all you hated the burden of memories and feelings that flooded into your mind with each new snow fall.

You still kept up with your duties, completing training drills and paperwork the way you had always done. Appearing perfectly fine and normal to those in the regiment that did not know you as well, but to those that did they noticed plenty the sloppiness that took place during training, noticing how you seemed to not care if you put yourself in a position that on an expedition would have gotten you killed. There was also the new found sense of heaviness in the air around you, like you were Atlas, carrying the world on your shoulders.

Slowly as the days turned colder and colder you found yourself distancing yourself from your comrades even more, opting to spend all your free time in your office alone completing paperwork instead of staying in the dining hall with the other high ranking officers and squad leaders, drinking tea and listening to Hange ramble for hours about new experiments and discussing new training exercises.

Most still tried to interact with you, trying to cheer you up, Hange would come and try and drag you off to help with an experiment, Mike would try and hold idle chit-chat with you, and Erwin would ask for your opinions on new formations in hopes of distracting you. However in the end all of them decided that it was best to leave you be and let you come to them when you were readly. Well everyone except one person.

Levi Ackerman.

The man refused to allow you a minute of solitude. Always finding you wherever you hid, two cups of tea in his hands and a stack of paperwork under his arm. Even if no words were spoken between the two of you, for you, however, it was the most calming part of your day, when it seemed that the bombardment of memories and feelings finally slowed down.

You and Levi had always had a special sort of bond, perhaps that’s why being in his presence had such a calming feeling for you. A bond that had developed when you yelled at Flagen for being much too harsh to them and consistently offered all three of the newcomers help whenever they needed it. Helping Isabel learn to tack up her horse, answering all of Furlan’s questions about the world above, and even sneaking a tin of tea leaves to Levi after hearing about his liking of tea from Isabel. Then when Furlan and Isabel were killed you were the one that took their wings of freedom from their jackets to give Levi. It was a small gesture but it’s one that led to you being the closest person to Levi other than Erwin.

-

It was another one of those days where you had hidden yourself away in your office, busy signing and filling out paperwork when your door was opened, not bothering to look up as a familiar voice rang out into the room.

“Get your ass up brat, Erwins called an emergency meeting for some shitty reason,” the raven haired man grumbled, arms crossed as he leaned his back and right foot up against the door frame, staring across the room at you with steely grey eyes.

He was worried about you, yes, though he would never admit it out loud. Throughout all his time as a scout you had been one of the most consistent people he had ever met. You weren’t the cheeriest person around, but then again not many people in the scouts were (though it wasn’t without reason), but you had a kind soul and a warm smile that helped calm down even the most distressed soldier. The only problem with you was that you were secretive when it came to your own feelings. You would offer an ear and advice to any soldier that asked, but never did you let yourself show vulnerability, instead you hide yourself away until you can put a brave face on and Levi hated it. After everything that the two of you had gone through he felt like you knew more about him then he did you and he had tried everything to get you to open up to him. Asking Erwin to move your squad closer to his in the formations so that two of you could ride together, mixing most of your training exercise together, preparing tea for the two of you during late nights. He had placed himself within nearly every part of your schedule and you in his, but no matter how many inside jokes and late nights it still felt like you had a wall up that you refused to let down, even around him.

Placing the paper you had just finished on a stack to your right you placed the pen in your hand down as you stood up from your desk, and silently joined the shorter man at the door. A feeling like a knife went through Levi’s heart as you said nothing when before you would have come up with some sort of snarky remark to his jab. Instead of saying anything however he pushed himself off of the door frame and started down the hall, with you by his side, to Erwin’s office.

-

You sat at a large wooden table with the other senior officers. Erwin, as the commander, sat at the head of the table discussing the plans for the latest expedition outside of the walls, Mike sat to your left, Hange to your right (being loud as always), and Levi was directly across from you staring at you once again with those steely grey eyes of his. Normally you would have returned his gaze with one of your own, raising a brow and maybe throwing in a wink to make him roll his eyes and turn his gaze back to Erwin, but today you opted to turn your gaze downwards. Glancing at the papers in front of you attempted to read them, though you knew it was pointless, no matter how many times you read them over you never retained any of the information, similar to know matter how hard you tried to listen to what was being said you never seemed to be able to properly comprehend what was being said. It was frustrating to say the least.

“According to the weather experiments that Hange has been performing it appears that there will be a massive storm arriving within the next couple of days. That is why, after careful consideration, it has been decided that should a storm take place that all troops will be given the day, and following days off as it will be near impossible for any training to take place,” It was the last of Erwin’s announcements and though the blond spoke like he doubted the storm would take place, everyone knew that while often extravagant, Hange’s experiments often worked, with their weather experiments becoming fairly accurate in predicting the weather. So with the idea of maybe getting a little more sleep, and being able to escape your mind just a little, in a couple days you left the room with the others, returning to your office.

-

The storm that Hange had predicted did happen, starting with low howls of wind late in the night, as clouds burden with snow covered the sky, sending large flakes of snow down onto the earth. By the time that the sun had risen the next morning, though the winds had not calmed by much and the snow was still falling, large drifts of snow had formed around the scouts headquarters. With the lower ranked soldiers being informed of the day off, most stayed in the mesh hall, playing games of chess and idly chatting, while senior officers went to their offices, attempting to catch up with overdue paperwork now that they had a day not filled with training drills. You however were a different story.

You had woken up just as the sun was rising to be greeted with frosted window panes, and a chill that seemed to speed in from the outside, numbing your body even with the fire that was still going in the fireplace. The fatigue that was filling your mind also did not help the chill that had crept into your body, making you want nothing more than to sleep, and perhaps you could. Erwin had said that when the storm blows in they would all be given the day off, so perhaps, just once, you could give into your mind and just sleep. Yes a part of you screamed that no matter how bad you feel, no matter how hard it is to bury everything you’re feeling, you need to get up, go and eat breakfast and do your work. But the thought of food had your stomach in a knot and the thought of paperwork brought back the image of fog whenever you had been working the past days. So before you could tell yourself no you sank back into your bed and pulled the blanket up and over your head and went back to sleep.

-

Levi was in a panicked mood to say the least, though it did not appear so if anyone were to comment. He had waited for over an hour for you to appear in the mesh hall, and when you hadn’t he had merely shrugged it off as a day that you weren’t hungry (he’ll bring some bread alongside the tea he normally brings later), but slowly as the day went on and as he continually went back and forth between all of the places you went to be alone and his own office, you were nowhere to be found. He had checked the library, Mike, Hange, and Erwin’s offices, the storage closet on the east wing, he had even braved the cold weather and checked the stables. So now with just one place left, if he didn’t find you he was going to raise a high alarm, after all it was already late into the afternoon and not one person had seen you all day, if that wasn’t a reason to worry or panic then he didn’t know what was.

Arriving in front of the room that had you shared with Hange (though it was more of just your room as they tended to sleep in their lab), he tried the handle, finding it unlocked (thankfully he didn’t have to kick the damn thing down, he let himself into the room. Shivering slightly as he walked in, automatically noticing the dying fire in the fireplace, however he quickly turned his gaze to the bundle of blankets on the bed. Pushing the door shut with his hand he quickly turned the lock before he walked slowly towards the bed. Reaching his hand out to grab the blanket, he hesitated, was this the right thing to do? Should he bother you like this? But before he could decide to leave (he doubted that in that state you were that you had even noticed him) he remembered something, a promise the two of you had made.

-

The night sky had shone so bright that night, if felt like it was mocking him, with each night since their passing not even a cloud crossed the night sky. He may have chosen not to regret anything that happened, chosen to follow the man he had been sent to kill, but that didn’t mean grief did not find its way into his heart. As his mind clouded, silent tears falling down his cheeks, the sound of a cup being placed next to him startled him. Jumping to his feet, his hand reaching for the knife in his pocket, he was surprised to find you there, laughing softly as you held a cup out to him. Eyeing you suspiciously he glanced between the cup and you.

“It’s not poisoned if that’s what you’re thinking, I would drink it to prove it to you, but as much of a clean freak you are I don’t think you would appreciate that now would you?” Rolling his eyes he sat back down, (in the same spot he had sat every night he had come up here with Furlan and Isabel) taking the cup gratefully, though still eyeing you as you rested you arms on the way, now holding your own up between your hands, eyes aimed towards the sky.

He couldn’t help but wonder why you went through all the trouble, why you’ve gone out of your way since he first arrived, to try and befriend him (if that’s what you were trying). Even after knowing he had joined the scouts to kill one of your own friends, you had still cared enough to hand him the bloody wings of freedom that had belonged to Furlan and Isabel, and every day you made sure to greet him when passing by, or even dragging him off to train with your squad, because (and he could quote it), ‘Flagen’s an ass and you won’t learn anything from him’. Now even, you had sought him out in the middle of the night, when he was at his lowest, to offer him a cup of tea. Why, what were you gaining from this? Most everyone else still treated him like an outsider, so why were you so kind?

“You’re wondering why aren’t you? Why am I so kind to you?” you mused softly, speaking his thoughts out loud for him. Looking his way, you met eyes briefly before he turned his gaze away, silently answering your own questions. Another small laugh escaped you as he avoided your gaze.

“There’s no reason, if you must know, no reason other than I don’t think that you should be alone after everything that happened.” He scoffed at that, causing you to laugh once more, humans were selfish creatures, that much was true, so you had to have a reason, something that you wanted, but for the time being he would indulge you, you were rather calming to be around (and not just his curiosity getting the better of him). So he sat silently, occasionally speaking up, as you talked about random things to fill the silence. The two of you stayed like that for several hours into the night, and it wasn’t until you both were finally heading to bed to get the few hours of sleep that you could before you would be required to be up and training, did he ask what the both of you knew had been on his mind all night long.

 “What do you get out of this, what do you want in return? And don’t say nothing, everyone wants something.” You smiled softly nodding as you thought carefully.

“I really do want nothing, but if it satisfies you, I’m doing what I would want someone to do for me if I were in your shoes, so why don’t we say that what I want in return is for someone to kick me in the ass if I ever appear to lose hope in everything, okay? Does that work as an answer for you?”

Though shock coursed through his body, he rolled his eyes, letting out yet another scoff among thousands that he had made during the night, muttering, “I suppose that works.”

“Great, then it's a deal. I keep annoying you and in return if I ever get mopey and depressed I expect you to kick me in my ass and tell me to get over it,” you said, laughing all the while.

-

‘If I ever get mopey and depressed I expect you to kick me in my ass and tell me to get over it.’ That was what you said, so while you may end up being momentarily pissed at him for what he was about to do, you could only blame yourself, after all you were the one who said he could do it.

Grabbing the blanket with both hands he gave a hard tug as he pulled it off of you, shaking you awake. As the sudden cold hit your body and light flooded your face, blinding you, you blinked your eyes quickly, trying to adjust to the sudden light while giving Levi a look of, ‘what the hell are you doing?’

“You look like shit,” Levi said once you met his eyes, and it was true. Your hair was a mess, your eyes bloodshot and swollen, tear streaks running down your face, your skin looked duller than normal, but those were not the things that shocked Levi. The look of absolute defeat, of brokenness shook him to his core, never had he seen you look so small and helpless, causing him to yell at himself mentally for not realizing how badly your mental health had become. 

“Yeah, yeah, now what do you want,” you eyed the blanket that he had ripped away from you longingly, but made no move to try and take it back, your arms felt too heavy to move, pushing yourself to sit was hard enough.

“I’m here to get your lazy ass up, seeing as you decided to sleep all day.” You raised your eyebrows, glancing to look at the window, to see that long shadows had started creeping across the land outside of your window, the sun would be setting soon.

Sighing, Levi draped the blanket over the headboard, reaching a hand out to gently grasp your chin to turn your gaze back to him, “What’s wrong brat?”

“Nothings wrong, I just decided to sleep all day. What's wrong with that.” While you still denied it, one look, however, he could tell it was a lie. From the way your eyes watered and refused to look at any part of him, knowing that you would cave if you looked directly at him and not wanting to burden him with your own memories and feelings, he already dealt with more than his fair share.

“Don’t lie to me. And if I must remind you, you gave me special permission to beat your ass if you ever got like this.”

“I-,” you finally met his eyes, seeing for the first time the amount of worry that shone behind them, “fine,” you mumbled, slipping out of his grasp and resting your back against the wall, staring at your hands as you gathered you thoughts, trying to find a place to start. Slipping his boots off Levi joined you on the bed, resting against the headboard, arms crossed as he waited patiently.

Once your thoughts had been gathered you started speaking, telling the story of all the people you could never save. Your fellow cadets that had graduated from the same cadet corps as you, joining you as a scout (there had only been five of you who had joined that year), all of whom had died during their first expedition, leaving you alone. Of fellow squad mates that were killed saving you, fresh new cadets that you were given to train that never made it through their first expedition. The guilt you felt from not being there to save Furlan and Isabel. The screams of mothers when told that their child was dead and never returning home. Then finally, as your voice became shaky and tears had filled your eyes until you could no longer see clearly, you told him of your siblings. Of the snowstorm that rolled through your hometown, of the argument you had with your parents, how you had left right before the storm had it, leaving for a friends house, and how your younger siblings had gone out in the storm to search for you only to not be seen again until spring, about the blame your parents had placed on you, and the blame you placed on yourself. You told him everything as he sat silent, watching as your highest wall crumbled and fell to the ground.

He had known you were a kind soul, but he had never realized just how kind you were, how much you cared for people, and how much you blame yourself for not saving people who could not be saved. Stepping out of his comfort zone you reached his arms out, wrapping tightly around your torso as he pulled to his chest, whispering soft affirmations, and speaking of all the lives you had saved. And as he held you in his arms, speaking to you and rubbing calming circles on you back as you fell apart before him and sobbed your heart out, you realized something. You weren’t in this alone in any of this pain, there were others all around you who felt the same, friends, strangers, so many people in your own life who had also lost others and shared in the same grief and pain as you. You realized that as long as you reached out to those you cared, you would never be alone.

Wrapping your arms around the dark haired man, between your sobs, you whispered out a small thank you, for caring, and for reaching out.

[beomglocks]

friendly neighborhood spiderman ; hk

warnings & other: fluff, spiderman!hyuka, normal person!reader, best friend!kai, reader doesnt know kai is spiderman, he looks so good in that gif i cant move on

"what do you mean you can't hang out today? we always binge-watch power rangers on fridays."

you should've known it would come to this point but hueningkai bailing on you on your sacred days? completely unfathomable. he chuckles nervously and you watch him stumble over his words. "well there's always tomorrow?" he says, unsure of himself.

you were used to kai skimping out on you. if anything, it became somewhat of a normal occurrence. he would often randomly announce that something had come up and before you could even question him about it, he was gone. practically vanishing into thin air, you've grown used to his sudden disappearances. he would always come back as if nothing happened but with random scratches or bruises all over him.

for this, you took up the job of providing his aftercare. during these sessions in your dingy bathroom, you both would sit in silence for a couple of minutes. after the silence became too much to bear, you would speak up and ask him what happened or why he suddenly looked beat to a pulp. he would never tell you the real reason so you came to the conclusion that he was hiding something from you.

what that something was, was still a mystery to you.

he had to be hiding something from you. kai rarely ever got into fights. even at your college, where the majority of the student body were complete dickheads, he would keep to himself. on the off chance that someone ever wanted to start something, they would simply get intimidated by kai's height.

he sighs exasperatedly, "look y/n, just- it's just that th-."

"this is super duper important and you just don't have to means to skip out on it, i know i know," you reiterate his mantra like a drone. it's the same excuse every time.

he pats your head lovingly and you shake your head to brush his hand off. "whatever dude, just don't be mad when im 50 episodes deep and won't wanna go back for you." he laughs, rolling his eyes playfully, "you always go back for me."

you stick your tongue out at him as you watch him run out of your apartment.

you sigh, walking back to your living room and throwing yourself down on the couch. the silence in your apartment is deafening and unfortunately, kai is no longer here to fill the empty space. you frown, curling into yourself on your couch while switching back to the normal tv and flipping through channels.

you've always liked hueningkai. he was someone you've cherished since freshman year of high school. back then he was just some skinny kid who could barely hold his own. you had been the one to come up to him and befriend him but as it turns out he grew up.

you never thought you'd catch feelings for him but all of a sudden he had grown taller than you and his voice was an octave deeper than the cute, screeching boy you had first encountered.

you kept your feelings hidden well so far since you didn't know how kai would react. he wasn't really the type to have girls fawn over him but once arriving to college, almost everyone wanted him. it made you feel a bit self conscious considering he was this tall, ridiculously handsome guy and you were well...you.

you sigh once again. you hoped he wasn't ditching you to hang out with some college girl or go to some college party. maybe that's why he would come back home bruised up, going to some college party and doing some crazy shit there.

you pause your flipping through channels when you catch a glimpse of a guy in a red and black suit on your tv screen.

spiderman. you smile when you see him on your screen. you're lucky to have been born in the same era as a superhero. you've only ever really read about them in comics or seen cartoons of them but to live during the same time as one was something else.

it seemed as if there were new supervillains every other day but spiderman would always swoop in and save the day.

"there goes that spider menace again. he probably set up the whole situation just to make himself look good in the eyes of the public," james jonah jameson, the tv announcer, states.

"im telling you all! how can you trust a guy who's going around the city swinging on webs, fighting bad guys, and calling himself the spiderman?! he's the real villain!" some shaky cam footage of spiderman freely swinging through the city is played on screen and you smile at how carefree he looks. he keeps swinging until he reaches the main source of the situation and the footage switches to the news camera crew's line of sight.

they seem to be pretty close to the action and your breath hitches at who the villain who decided to show himself today is. sandman, and he looks pissed. he's throwing around stray cars and shooting sand at everything in his path. "where's spiderman!" he roars.

spiderman gracefully lands on his two feet right behind sandman. "you rang?" he jokes casually. sandman spins around wildly and wastes no time hurling some sand at the hero. spiderman narrowly avoids this but steadies himself for a serious fight.

you watch in awe at how cool spiderman looks while fighting. he looks so elegant as if he's dancing. the fight goes on for about 5 minutes and in those 5 minutes, both parties get beat pretty bad. spiderman who can barely stand straight is panting heavily since he just got up from being thrown into a wall.

sandman goes in for a couple more punches, some he misses however he gets some good ones in. "getting tired spidey?" sandman taunts. "you wish," spiderman croaks out. you watch him look around and luckily there's a fire truck near them.

spiderman uses his webs to bring the fire hose to him and you watch him use his last bit of strength to pull the latch that lets all the water out. sandman doesn't get the chance to dodge this and is effectively hit with the powerful blast of water from the hose.

the camera pans to sandman who is now on the floor, slipping away through the cracks towards the sewer. they then pan back to the wall where spiderman was leaning against but he's no longer there.

"ah another day, another win for our friendly neighborhood spiderman!" the tv hostess on the scene says. you sigh as the broadcast cuts back to james jameson spewing more slander on spiderman's name. "i hope he's ok, he looked pretty beat up," you say to no one in particular.

just then you hear a thump on your window. you live on the 12th floor of your building so realistically nothing should be hitting your window unless there are birds but it's a little late for them to be out and about. you cautiously walk over to your window and you see someones back? someone's back?

you unlatch your window and let it flip open. the person jumps up on your window sill in alarm, but once he sees you he calms down and throws himself onto your floor in exhaustion. you stand there in shock at who is on your living room floor right now. "spiderman?" you gasp. he groans out a reply but you don't care. spiderman is in your house right now! "i literally just saw you on tv! you were like so cool out ther-" you cut yourself off when you hear him breathing heavily.

"oh- oh my god ok uh-" you lift him up as best as you can and wrap his arm around your shoulder. spiderman hasn't passed out just yet so he uses a bit of his strength so that it's not a chore to drag him to your bathroom.

once you manage to drag him to your bathroom he throws himself onto the sink edge and leans back on your mirror with a sigh. "i can't believe you're in my house right now," you randomly blurt. he nods but says nothing as he points to his abdomen. "help," he grunts. you immediately go to the first aid kit that's always kept on deck since you're always patching up hueningkai.

he grabs the hem of his suit and lifts it up, displaying his torso. "woah," you instinctively cover your eyes thinking he was about to undress or something. you hear him chuckle softly. "relax."

when you lower your hands you see the nastiest scar on his lower stomach and you try not to stare too hard thinking it may offend him. "help me clean it please," he mumbles in pain. "i know i have healing powers or whatever but it's not gonna kick in rapidly unless i do some of the work myself."

you stare at spiderman in disbelief. "uh- i mean of course. i'd love to help, spiderman." he chuckles again at your eagerness, finding it cute.

"how'd you get to my window sill?" you say before you can think. you immedeintly slap your hand over your mouth, not wanting to offend him somehow. he coughs somewhat awkwardly while looking around your bathroom.

"i- i mean the lights were on, the building was close...just a coincidence i guess?" he stammers through his sentence and rubs the back of his head. you bring your eyebrows together in confusion, "but i don't live that cl-" he cuts you off by grabbing his abdomen in pain.

"oh- OW! just please help," he wails.

you both sit in silence after that while you help patch him up and you get major deja vu except, instead of patching kai up you're patching up spiderman. you laugh at yourself and spiderman perks up. "what's so funny?"

"nothing it's just... i always go through this same routine with my best friend hueningkai," you say. spiderman nods off, "your best friend hueningkai?" you hum a confirmation, "yeah he's always running off and getting himself into trouble. i'm like his personal nurse."

spiderman leans back on your mirror again and you assume he's going to doze off or rest while you clean his wound but he speaks up again, "what's this hueningkai like?"

"he's really sweet. the sweetest boy i've ever met. he's a really good friend to me but i guess he's growing up, it feels like he doesn't need me anymore. he's always bailing on me to probably hang out with his cooler friends or something." you sigh and when the silence rings in your ears you realize you just rambled about your friend to a superhero.

"oh god im sorry i d-" spiderman shifts in his spot and let's out a breath. "maybe he's just busy? he's probably got a lot on his shoulders." you pout, dabbing the cotton ball onto the wound gently.

"i just- look i really like kai, like more than a friend. how am i supposed to get closer to him if he's always running off doing whatever!”

spiderman sits up straight in his spot, “you like me more than a friend?!” you look at him confused since you didn’t exactly catch what he said. “huh?”

“uh- i mean... well maybe he also sees you as more than a friend too, you never know,” he shrugs nonchalantly.

“maybe..” you trail off uncertainty.

after you finish patching spiderman up he jumps off the counter and stretches his limbs. “wow i feel better already. you’re amazing,” he compliments. you hide your face in your hands shyly but smile up at him.

“it must be difficult saving the world from bad guys huh,” you joke. he nods, groaning tiredly, “you have no idea.”

you see him look over at your tv but since he’s wearing his mask you can’t really tell what his expression is or what he might be thinking. “right, you said you saw me on tv,” he chuckles.

“well thank you y/n for helping me get better, im sure i’ll be fine by tomorrow morning but for now ive gotta head back to shield to report what happened. you know superhero stuff,” he gloats.

you nod at him, amazed by how hard working he is but you look at him bewildered for the 3rd time today. “how did you know my name?”

he looks around frantically and scratches his head, “that cup over there says it!” sure enough when you look over, there’s a cup with your name printed on it. it happened to be a cup gifted to you from hueningkai last christmas.

you hear spiderman sigh, “well, gotta run! im positive i’ll be seeing you around.” he walks up to you and pats your head, something only kai is allowed to do but you let it slide for spiderman since he’s a superhero.

you follow him to your window where he prepares to jump out and swing back to shield. once he’s outside you yell out to him, “thank you spiderman!”

around three hours after spiderman left your apartment you hear your doorbell ring. they stopped playing the news about spiderman’s fight an hour ago so you decided to watch something else.

you groan dramatically, dragging yourself to your door. when you swing it open you see kai standing there with a smile on his face.

the drowsiness you previously had disappears when you see him. “oh my god kai you’ll never believe what happened to me!” you say excitedly. “hello to you too,” he laughs.

you drag him to your couch, “spiderman was here!” you shout. he raises his eyebrows at you, smiling wider. “wow really? was he cool?” you sigh dreamily, “he’s so cool kai.”

“wait you actually believe me?” you ask. he chuckles, looking away from you. “of course i believe you, why would you lie?”

you shrug, “i mean im not lying but if i was, i could’ve been lying to have you hang out with me more just in case i ever meet him again. you could meet him too.”

kai shakes his head, “y/n are you using spiderman as an excuse to get me to hang out with you more?” he laughs, “don’t worry i’ll hang out with you as much as i can.”

he pats your head again similarly to how he did earlier and you smile sadly, remembering spiderman’s words. hueningkai must be really busy and here he is promising to spend more time with you. this just makes you like and cherish him more.

you hug him tightly as a form of appreciation and he hugs you back with the same strength. when you pull away you look over his face and you’re about to say something when something catches your eye.

you lean in closer to his face and he inches back instinctively. “wha-“

“is that sand in your hair?”

[whatifxwereyou]

Firestorm Part 4: A Spider's Web

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021 Liu Kang x Reader

A/N: Sorry for how late I'm posting today. It's been a weeeeeek. But we're all good to go! Next week is going to be... fiery, wink wonk wink wonk. Enjoy some Lao!

The Oncoming Storm Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

The corners of your vision were dark, like a scene from an old movie. Your body wouldn’t move. You felt pinned. Inhaling sharply in panic you couldn’t exhale. Something was above you. Something dark and foul. You were terrified. Its mouth was open in a wide grin, eyes fixed on you with wicked delight. Clammy, clawed hands grasped your wrists and held you in place but you couldn’t have fought them anyway. You were frozen in terror, like someone had paralyzed you.

Cold yellow and white eyes flashed as they examined your features, scanned your face. The creature leaned closer to you and inhaled deeply, as if to smell your fear. Its breath was freezing and you managed to whimper in terror though your breath was so caught in your chest that you thought the pain might kill you before whatever this thing was did.

Its breath stunk of death and the drool that dripped from his teeth fell on your face and made you want to gag. You tried to move, tried to fight, but your body felt suspended. You managed to clasp your hand into a fist and the creature screamed in your face and grasped your wrists harder, pushing you violently down.

“You will bow!” It hissed in a horrific shriek.

That had broken the dam. You thrashed, shrieked, pulled your wrists but it grasped you tighter and harder and laughed at you the entire time. You couldn’t escape. You weren’t strong enough! Your wrists were aching.

“You will not see!” It was a hiss from all over the room. You couldn’t get away from the sound. It was in your head, rattling around. You closed your eyes tight and thrashed, fought, tried to use all you knew about martial arts to break free but nothing worked. When you opened your eyes again, the creature was gone.

You were alone, sitting upright in bed, trembling.

Your wrists were aching and you gasped greedily for breath. Then you held your head in your hands and sobbed into them. You had to take deep breaths. You were making it worse by hyperventilating. Deep breaths. You had to calm down. Your whole body was sore, like you’d spent time lifting weights far too heavy for you.

It was still raining but nowhere near as hard as it had been the night before.

Listen to the rain.

It had to have been a nightmare.

Nothing more.

Your subconscious was terrible. Shaking from head to toe, you talked yourself down. It was a bad dream. With everything going on it was your mind playing tricks on you. The drool you’d felt was actually the rain. The oppressive feeling was just the whole… god-curse thing.

You finally breathed and relaxed your grip on yourself.

Rolling your shoulders, you leaned your head back and then froze as you caught sight of the rest of your room.

Oh no.

Apparently, the last few days had been a fluke when it came to your ink.

Those sharp and deadly webs of ink had filled your room. The only space free was your bed. There wasn’t even any room on the floor next to it this time. Leaning back against the wall, you sighed. Your hands ached in remembrance of the last time this happened. Getting rid of it had left you bruised and honestly, your hands were still sore. You were tired of being sore.

Did you really have it in you to get rid of it again? It wasn’t like you had a choice. You couldn’t even consider crawling through the ink to get out of it. The only other option was to go out the window and that wasn’t an easy feat either. You didn’t feel up to either task.

In fact, you felt hungover. Once again, you got all the drama and discomfort without any of the fun. Life wasn’t fair. You just had to deal with that. If you didn’t get rid of the ink then there would be no food, no proper clothes, no cleaning up. Someone would come find you eventually and then you’d have to explain what happened.

You rubbed your hands together and kicked off your blankets then sat on your knees. To work. You weren’t quite sure what you’d done last time to make it go away. You’d just hoped that it would. So that’s what you’d do again. Hold out your hand to the ink and hope. It seemed ludicrous now that you were trying to do it again. You adjusted the oversized shirt you had worn to bed and then held your hand close to the ink. You closed your eyes, took slow breaths, and then focused on your arcana.

It was a part of you. While often it felt like the hands that had tainted you were using it against you, it was still yours. You had proven yourself capable time and again and this would be no different.

Energy, dark and twisted, all yours, surrounded you. It bent to your will with a thought. Peaking an eye open, you expected the ink to be gone but it persisted. Tangled webs still spread throughout your room, dangerous and sharp. Your fingertips were black with ink as though you could write with them. You’d try that another time.

Closing your eyes again, you focused again on the arcana you’d already spread throughout the room and trying to get rid of it. There was a pulling sensation deep inside of you, as if something was trying to tug your spine up through your chest and then like a thousand rubber bands were wrapped around your ribcage and pulling them out of place. You hunched forward in pain and then pulled your hand back with a yelp as the ink sliced at your palm.

Whining, you held your hand close and looked at the superficial cut. “Ow.” You placed your palm to your lips and sucked away the blood drawn. Still nothing. Damn. Ink was everywhere.

There was a knock at your door.

“Uhh…” You said loud enough to be heard on the other side of it.

“Y/N?” Kung Lao’s voice called to you. “You awake?”

“Umm, yes.”

“You sound weird. Why do you sound weird?”

“Well, I’m having a problem.”

“…a lady problem?”

“What? No.” You laughed in disbelief and heard Kung Lao breathe a sigh of relief. “I’m stuck.”

“What exactly does that mean?”

“I’m… it’s difficult to explain. Just know that it’s true.” You covered your legs with the blanket again.

“I’m coming in.”

“Yeah, good luck with that.”

Kung Lao opened the door as much as he could, which wasn’t much, and stared in a surprise. His jaw dropped.

“Wow, you really are stuck. Are you practicing in here alone again? Liu told me that you were doing that, by the way.”

“Umm… no. I had a nightmare.”

“Oh. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it was just a nightmare. And I’m very stuck. I can’t seem to get rid of it… and I’m a little nervous so trying has been… well, trying.” You had to peek beneath some of the ink to get a clear view of Kung Lao and even then, you couldn’t see him properly.

“So this is how you deal with nightmares?” He tapped his hat against the ink and looked impressed by how sturdy it was. They looked frail. Thin and spun but sharp and solid.

“I don’t have any control over it, Lao! I woke up and it was like this!”

“But you can get rid of it, right? And if you pass out, I’ll just take you to the infirmary afterward.” Lao shrugged as if that were no big deal.

“I don’t know, honestly.”

“Can you at least try?”

“I already tried!”

“Well, get up and try again.”

“I’m not wearing any pants.” You pouted and he laughed.

“I’ve seen your legs before, Y/N. Come on.”

“Yeah, when I was nine.”

“Have they changed much? Should I be worried? What’s wrong with your legs, Y/N?”

“Focus, Lao!” You laughed and then climbed out from beneath your blankets and sat on your knees again. “Okay. I’m going to try.” You closed your eyes and focused again on the energy of your arcana. You could feel it swirling around you, like a warm welcoming wave. You could have reached out and grabbed ink out of thin air and made whatever you wanted with it. It was a good feeling. A warm feeling. A stark difference in comparison to the cold and clammy misery you’d woken up to.

Then you tried to will the ink away and gasped as the air was stolen right from your lungs. You fell forward on the bed, grabbing it in a panic to stay upright. Coughing, you tried to catch your breath.

Shit.

“Whoa, whoa, hey!” Kung Lao was searching through the ink as if trying to find a way through it to get to you. If you couldn’t fit then he certainly couldn’t. He was way larger than you. You held you hand up to let him know you were okay and focused on breathing. You were suddenly nauseous, lips tingling as if you’d pushed yourself way too far.

“That didn’t work.”

“I see that.” Kung Lao took off his hat and scratched his head comically. “I don’t think I can even get my hat through there to get to you.” He tried to crack the ink with the hat but instead he was repelled backwards as if striking metal. “You should try to make these when you fight.”

“Only if I want to kill somebody.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m going to try again in a second.”

“Don’t go anywhere.” Kung Lao walked away without waiting for you to respond. Like you could go anywhere. You were stuck. It was embarrassing but also kind of hilarious. You had trapped yourself in your room while you’d been sleeping! Hopefully, Kung Lao wasn’t off finding someone else to observe your shame.

“I guess I’ll just keep trying.” You would do so until it either went away or you passed out. Either would solve your problem, you supposed. Closing your eyes, you took deep, calming breaths and willed away the nausea. If you meditated for a few seconds then maybe you could harness your energy a bit better. You could do this. Your arcana was there. You knew you could create with it so why wasn’t it going away?

Then suddenly something crashed heavily on the bed behind you and you screamed, turned, and struck blindly. Kung Lao had climbed in through your window and was now slammed back against the wall laughing. “Y/N!” He laughed with wide eyes and you fell over, practically wheezing with laughter. “Wow!” He rubbed the spot on his chest where you’d struck him.

“You scared me!”

“I just climbed through your window to help you and you decked me!”

“Yeah, well I also had a nightmare about a gross man crawling over me so excuse me for my instinct to fight when some dude jumps through my window.”

“Gross man?” He frowned.

“Focus, Kung Lao.” You gestured behind you to the ink sprawled throughout your room.

“Right. One problem at a time.” Kung Lao adjusted himself on the bed and set his hat aside. “Try again?”

“Yeah, of course. I… I did it once. I just don’t know how I did it that first time and then the second time was when…”

“Yeah, when Raiden shocked you into heart failure. Hard to forget.” Kung Lao positioned himself behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders. “Lean on me if you need to.”

“Just keep me from falling over with my ass in the air, please.”

“Tempting. No promises.”

You swatted blindly behind him with a laugh then closed your eyes and cleared your throat. This was distracting. Kung Lao was distracting. You rolled your shoulders and, realizing that you had some nerves about it, Kung Lao spoke quietly in your ear.

“Inhale deeply.” He encouraged. “Exhale slowly.” You did as he guided. He helped you find your focus again. Your heart had been racing after you had decked him. “Become more energized with every breath you take. Allow your energy to grow. Encourage that energy…” You focused on Kung Lao’s words, on your arcana, and on the ink that you could visualize spread throughout your room. You were genuinely surprised that he had guided you so easily through meditation. Kung Lao wasn’t exactly the most patient guy you’d ever met.

In your mind’s eye you could see the ink emerging from your sleeping body like an explosion. At least this time it hadn’t stained everything you owned. If you could visualize it leaving your body then maybe you could visualize it returning to you too. Visualize each strand leaving the room in an explosive burst into your hands instead of your body. You didn’t want to hurt Kung Lao if you could help it and you didn’t want to become a human bruise either.

Then, as though someone had thrown bricks right at your hands, you fell back against Kung Lao. Your moment of peace was gone and replaced by aching in your hands. You hissed in agony and shook them out. Kung Lao wrapped his arms around you protectively. He was looking down at you with a wide smile, impressed. It was a goofy sort of look and you admired him from below.

“Wow, just like that, huh?”

You swatted at his arm. “That was a lot of work, okay?”

“Didn’t look like a lot of work.”

You swatted at him again and he mouthed ‘ow’ as he often did. “You’re ridiculous, Lao.” He hugged you close and pulled you against his chest. Sometimes you forgot how strong he was and you were comforted.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. Thank you for helping me.”

“I’m supposed to help you train today. Are you up for that? You’re all… clammy.” He patted your bare thigh and you swatted his hand away then snatched your pillow and pulled it into your lap.

“I’m up for trying but I’ll have to take it slow.” You felt much better now that your room wasn’t filled with ink and you didn’t have to consider abandoning it and all your worldly possessions to your arcana. “Wait, do you mean like… the kind of training that Raiden wants me to do or…?”

“Combat is more my thing. We’ve gotta keep you strong. I can take it easy on you. Don’t worry.” He smirked but you were already tired thinking about it. “Ready?”

“I need pants, Lao.” You laughed and pushed him off of you and toward the edge of your bed. He sighed dramatically and placed his feet on the ground.

“Fine. If you must.” He summoned his hat back to his hand and then slipped it on his head, tucking the strap beneath his chin with a little wiggle. “Meet you out there.” He smirked and then left you alone.

You flopped back on the bed in exhaustion. Then you sat up and meditated to calm the remaining nausea. Then you got cleaned up, dressed, and grabbed food before going to meet Kung Lao. For the first time in a long time you felt uncomfortable being alone. Thankfully, you weren’t alone for long. Soon enough you were in the fight pit practicing with Kung Lao. You focused on forms and technique since you were weary. You were slow which you hated. It was difficult to get used to being so limited by your body and mind. Up until recently you’d done this everyday teaching others at every skill level. You’d never thought that you’d miss the energy you used to have.

“You’re slow today.” Kung Lao stopped you, hands folded behind his back. He hadn’t even broken a sweat.

“I’m sorry. Woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” It was a lame attempt at a joke. Kung Lao even gave you a look of disapproval. Like he had room to talk. His jokes were terrible.

“I need you to get back to where you were, Y/N.”

“I know. I’ll get there. This isn’t me giving up, Lao.” You sat on the steps of the fight pit. The drizzle that had fallen earlier had stopped and was replaced with partially sunny skies. Dark clouds loomed in the distance, likely the last remnants of the storm that had blown through like a whirlwind. Kung Lao sat next to you with a thud.

“We done for today?”

“I don’t think I have more in me. I’m sorry. I want to do more but… I’m tired.” You smiled apologetically. “I’ll try again after I rest if you insist.

“No, it’s fine. We can do something else.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. It’s fine. Rest is important.”

“Good.” You yawned and stretched your arms over your head. “Have you seen Liu today?”

“Yeah, he’s having a long day.” Kung Lao whistled low as though he were very much not jealous of Liu’s day. “He and Raiden are trying something. He wouldn’t give me details but I didn’t ask for them either. I offered to help but Liu sent me to find you instead.”

“Oh, so you two are taking turns keeping an eye on me now, are you?” You narrowed your eyes at him. He shrugged and then averted his eyes. He stunk of guilt. You knew why now but it was still hard to be mad at Kung Lao, honestly. He was too… cute.

“It’s true he asked me to but I would have found you anyway. Who am I kidding?” Kung Lao clasped his hands together, elbows on his knees, tapping one foot. “I always seem to anyway, don’t I? Even when I didn’t realize it was you.” He smiled at you but you averted your eyes. You supposed that he did. He always had.

“Thanks for sticking with me, Lao. Even though I’m less fun than ever today.”

“I’m having fun.” He pouted his lower lip. “Are you not having fun?”

You rolled your eyes at him. He knew exactly what you were talking about.

“Oh, right, the whole gross nightmare thing.” He considered. “That’s not so fun, I suppose. And you punched me. That wasn’t fun.” You smiled. He always brought mirth to the moment, even when things were their heaviest. You were forever grateful to be reunited with your Kung Lao. “Come on. I’ll walk you back to your room and we can find a way to spend the rest of the day.”

“Food, I assume?”

“How’d you know?”

“I remember you very well, Kung Lao. Even as kids you liked to eat.” You teased. You joked on your way to grab food which you brought back to your room. Then you spent the afternoon playing games and eating. It was just the afternoon you’d needed after your horrible nightmare. Kung Lao stayed until late then left to get some sleep. You weren’t sure you would be able to do the same after the morning you’d had.

[ecto-american]

Prom Season

Phic Phight Oneshot for Rikaleeta and ghostgothgeek: As Prom draws nearer, Danny finds that he has competition in asking Sam to prom. Danny/Sam

Read on AO3 and FFN

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"Dude, you're staring again," Tucker nudged him. Danny blinked, snapping out of his daze, and he stood up straight, tapping his fingers anxiously on the counter.

"Sorry, dude, it's just. What the hell would Dale want with Sam?" he scowled.

The jock was standing near Sam, the two chatting idly by Sam's favorite part of the comics store, the vinyl section. Sam was smiling, nodding and agreeing with whatever Dale was talking to her about.

"Dale's been eying Valerie lately, maybe he's asking Sam about her?" Tucker suggested. He smiled politely at a customer who came into his line, promptly beginning to check them out. "Even so, why do you care? Sammy's a big girl."

"Prom season's coming up, somebody might ask her," Danny argued lightly.

"And why's that matter?" Tucker asked. In no time at all, the customer had paid and left, and the two were left standing in the mostly empty comics store.

"Dude, you know guys!" Danny grumbled, throwing his hands up as if it was obvious. "They only want one thing, especially after prom! You should know. Don't you and Star plan on finally doing it after prom?"

"Probably, but mostly because we've already been doing it," Tucker shrugged. Danny choked on nothing.

"Wait, what? How come you didn't tell me!?" Danny asked. Tucker opened his mouth to reply, only to jerk his head to Sam.

Dale had left the store seemingly, and Sam was already at the counter, clutching a new vinyl. Danny chuckled.

"This is why we can't visit Tucker at work, you'll always end up with something," he teased her. She rolled her eyes.

"But Tucker works here now, so he'll be sweet and let me use his employee discount?" she half-asked hopefully, staring at Tucker with a bright smile. He sighed, and he entered his employee discount code as he rang her up. "Thank you!"

"Anytime," he assured her. He handed her her bag. "So did Dale ask you to prom?" Sam snorted in amusement.

"Oh hell no," she replied. "He wanted to know if anybody had asked Valerie, and if I thought his plan to ask her would go over well."

Tucker sent Danny a sideways "I told you so" smirk, and Danny made an annoyed grumble.

"Either way, you ready to drag me to Hot Topic?" Danny asked.

"Only every day," Sam said. She turned to Tucker. "You close tonight, right? Do you want us to swing by and take you home?" Tucker shook his head no.

"Nah, it's okay!" he assured her. "I have my uncle's old car now, remember?" Sam lit up a bit.

"Oh yeah! Well, just drive careful!"

Tucker waved her off with a grin.

"Don't worry about me. You two lovebirds have fun," he teased. "But not too much fun."

Danny could feel his cheeks burn. A glance at Sam, and he could see her own face flushing some. However, she rolled her eyes and jokingly flipped Tucker off, getting one in response as they walked out and into the mall.

"Do you want me to carry your bag?" Danny offered, holding his hand out.

"Sure!" Sam agreed, and she handed it over. "Have you thought about the piercing? I'll buy you one if you're going for it."

"Eh, I'm still trying to figure out how badly my mom would flip if she saw that I got my nose pierced, and if it'd be worth it lecture," Danny shrugged.

"You should totally do it, then deflect it by coming out as Danny Phantom," she joked. Danny snorted. "Come on, we could match!" Sam had gotten her left nostril pierced almost a year ago, currently occupied by a tiny black skull, as well as four total piercings per ear. As expected, her mom nearly lost it over the nose charm. She poked his nose. "You could get a little white ghost charm." He couldn't help but smile.

"Now you're tempting me to risk it," he admitted.

He gestured to the Hot Topic, and Sam went inside first, him right behind her. She went right for the piercings display, looking. After a moment, she tapped on the case, looking over her shoulder for Danny.

"See? Right there, you could get that cute little silver ghost," she told him. Danny peeked over her shoulder. She pointed at another charm, one in the shape of a laptop. "Oh! And Tucker could get that one! We could all kinda match!"

"Pretty sure Tucker's mom would actually kill him if he came home with another piercing," Danny replied. Sam had already convinced Tucker of getting his ears pierced, and his mom was Very Unhappy about it. "Just like my mom would kill me if I came home with a nose piercing."

"You're already half dead though," Sam pointed out. Danny gave a half shrug and smile.

"Got me there. Alright, I'll get it," he said. Sam grinned widely, going to the counter to immediately ask for an employee to retrieve it.

They only browsed a bit more before they finally left. No sooner were they out the door…

"Sam!" a familiar voice called out excitedly. The not-lovebirds glanced over to see Paulina and Elliot coming up to them, Paulina a few steps ahead as she excitedly half-jogged over to Sam. Elliot was carrying two Starbucks cups, taking his time following. Paulina threw her arms around Sam, hugging her tightly, the goth only giving a half smile and lightly patting her back. "If I knew you were coming to the mall, I would have invited you to get your nails done with us! Look, Elliot and I match!"

Paulina pulled away to show off white nails with pink details.

"Oh they look nice!" Sam complimented. "It's okay though. Coming today was kinda a last minute thing." Or rather, they decided to hang out here after catching the Box Ghost, who was making himself home in one of the new stores that hadn't quite opened yet.

"You got me Starbucks?" Danny joked as Elliot finally came close enough to properly hear him. Elliot rolled his eyes. "How sweet."

"If you wanna give me the four dollars it costs, sure," he joked back. He handed Paulina the clear pink drink, and she took a long sip from it. Danny noticed that he did kinda match her, with black nails and matching details, only in a pastel blue.

"What are you guys up to?" Paulina asked. "We were just about to see if Macy's had any cute prom dresses out yet." The mentioning of prom made Danny's stomach feel a bit weirdly queasy.

"We're gonna go get Danny's nose pierced!" Sam replied, pointing to his nose. Danny snapped out of the feeling.

"Wait, what? We're doing that today?" he asked. Sam grinned.

"You're eighteen, they'll let you!" she replied. She reached into the Hot Topic bag to pull out the piercing. "I gotta make you put it on before you change your mind." Oh, a bit too late already.

"Ooh, that's a lot more interesting than prom dresses!" Elliot mused. "I can drive us." He put his free hand to his ear. "I've been thinking about getting another piercing anyway." Paulina hummed thoughtfully.

"Spike should be working today, so I might see if he has my new tattoo design ready," Sam mused.

Another thing that her mom, if she were to ever find out, would flip out over. Sam already had two that her family were oblivious to. Danny knew that she had a spider on a web on her ribcage; he had held her hand while she got that one done (and nearly ended up with a broken hand). The other was a black and deep purple rose and vine on her thigh, which he had only seen right after she had gotten it. Jazz, out of everybody, had gone with her to get it, and even came back with a tattoo herself. Though Jazz, like a nerd, had opted for a book tattoo. Danny had never seen it before outside of the photo Jazz took of it, but knew that it was on her ribcage and something Spike gave her as an anniversary present.

"I guess that settles it!" Elliot grinned. "Let's go to the tattoo and piercing shop!"

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After somehow surviving Elliot's crappy little car, only somewhat affectionately called "the shitbox", they were huddled in the waiting room area of the shop. Paulina, already filling out the usual safety and health and consent forms, was standing and staring at the wall of previous art done.

"You gonna get a tattoo instead?" Elliot teased her as he handed the receptionist his own filled paperwork. Paulina shot him a smile, but still slapped his shoulder.

"Papa would kill me," she insisted.

"So? Get it where nobody will see," Elliot replied. Paulina playfully slapped him again.

Danny rolled his eyes, continuing to fill out his form as he drafted all the excuses he'd have to give his mom when she inevitably chewed his ass out when he got home. Whelp, he was already bound to be grounded sooner or later cause of the ghosts. Might as well spice up the grounding reasoning once in a while.

Sam appeared from the back, clutching a piece of paper up. Spike was behind her. Sam made a beeline for Danny.

"Dude, look at how nice it is!" she told him, holding it out for him to see. Danny glanced up. It was a skull with flowers growing out of it.

"Oh, that's sick," he commented.

"I know, right?" Sam grinned. Danny smiled, returning his attention to the paperwork.

"So you wanna get that this Saturday?" Spike spoke up.

"Uh, Danny are you free Saturday?" Sam asked. Danny glanced up at her, raising an eyebrow.

"After today I'll probably be grounded," he joked, signing his name for the last time on the forms. Sam chuckled.

"True," she replied. "Hmm, ah whatever. I can tough it out." Danny quickly looked up again as it suddenly hit him why he needed to be free. Sam had already turned to Spike. "Yeah, let's go for Saturday."

"Oh, if you want somebody around, I can come," Elliot popped up.

"That'd be awesome!" Sam grinned. "This one's going on my back, so it's supposed to hurt."

"Well, you can break my hand, I don't care," Elliot assured her. Danny's chest squeezed a bit as he felt a hot flash hit him.

"No it's okay, I can just sneak out!" he said immediately. Sam glanced at him.

"Nah, it's okay. I don't wanna get you into anymore trouble," she assured him.

"I don't care," Danny quickly blurted out. Spike chuckled.

"Man, Mrs. Fenton's scary when she's pissed, your best bet is to just obey her," Spike told him. He nodded at Danny. "Did Jazz tell you about how she nearly got into a fistfight at the bridal shop a few days ago?"

"No?" Danny raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"

"Basically when Jazz went in for her dress fitting, she had apparently gained a little bit of stress weight since the last fitting, cause she's been driving herself insane over grad school applications," Spike explained. Danny nodded understandingly. "and the lady fitting her dress kind of gushed over it cause she thought Jazz got pregnant. It made her cry, and man. Mrs. Fenton went off on her, and apparently nearly began throwing hands with the manager."

"Oh man, poor Jazz," Sam said somberly. Danny couldn't agree more as he gave a low short whistle at the audacity. Between graduating early, grad school applications, and getting married, he had never seen Jazz look so stressed out. "Why don't you guys push the wedding back a bit?"

"She'll get more money from FASFA and scholarships, plus better housing, if we get married sooner, and she doesn't wanna just elope and have a party later," Spike shook his head a bit. "But uh, either way though, I got some numbing cream for ya Sam if you're worried about pain." Spike shot Danny a reassuring smile and a wink. He felt a little better. Sam sighed with relief.

"Please," she confessed. "It's not too bad when Danny's here, but if I'm alone I know I'm going to get a little anxious."

"Aw come on, I'm not reassuring?" Elliot teased. To Danny's relief, Sam also playfully slapped Elliot on his shoulder.

"Are you kidding me? You'd probably actually ruin my tattoo by making me laugh the entire time," she told him. Danny's heart squeezed again, and he got up to silently hand the receptionist the forms.

"I think I might get a tattoo," Paulina finally spoke up. Elliot's interest was immediately piqued.

"Oh?" he asked. Paulina nodded, pointing to a tattoo on the wall, a pretty collection of flowers.

"This is sooo pretty, I think I'd get something like this," she said. Sam glanced at it.

"That'd be like, what? Four hundred-ish dollars, Spike?" she guessed. Spike glanced at the reference photo and nodded.

"Yeah, give or take," he replied. Paulina made a face.

"Maybe one day in the future," she decided. "I need money for a prom dress." Sam waved a hand.

"Prom dresses are temporary, tattoos are forever!" she told her. Paulina made a noise of disinterest, and Sam shrugged.

"Danny, did you wanna go first?" the receptionist asked as she glanced at the three stacks of piercing requests.

Danny coughed a bit nervously. He glanced at Sam, and he nodded.

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"Thanks again, Spike!" Sam beamed. Spike smiled fondly at her, offering her a hug. She gladly accepted it.

"Anything for my favorite future sister-in-law," he teased. Sam's face instantly burned. Danny scoffed as he lightly touched his new piercing anxiously.

"Sam isn't related to us, dude," he told Spike. Spike gave him a weird look, then shook his head.

"You're lucky you know how to do math, man," he told him. "Also let me know if Mrs. Fenton kills you." Danny gave a nod.

"Don't worry, you'd be invited to the funeral," he joked. Spike chuckled. "Also I give you permission to tattoo my corpse before they put me down."

"Sick," Spike grinned. "I'll give you some of those lil blob ghosts the float around."

Elliot and Paulina were chatting a mile a minute outside the shop. When the not-lovebirds came out, Paulina immediately pushed her hair behind her ear to show off her new helix piercings. Danny could already see Elliot's singular orbital piercing.

"Look! I feel so punk!" Paulina gushed. Sam snorted in amusement.

"Girl, I'm gonna have to get you into a lot more black and leather before you're anywhere near punk," she teased. Paulina giggled.

"Maybe some leather pants," she mused. She shrugged. "Anywho! Elliot and I were gonna go look at the prom dresses! Wanna tag along?"

"Yeah, sounds fun!" Danny agreed.

"Yeah! I still need to get mine," Sam agreed. "I really want your opinion on a dress anyway," she said to Paulina. "Cause you know I'm going to customize mine no matter what I get."

"Yeah, I might ask you to do the same to mine, like help me tailor something if needed," Paulina mused. "I need my dress to be absolutely perfect. But we need to make another Starbucks run."

"Really?" Elliot raised an eyebrow at her. "Boo, this is your third trip today." Paulina pouted cutely at him. He playfully chuckled. "Alright, alright. I kinda want another iced coffee anyway."

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"So, has Elliot talked to you about it yet?" Paulina asked, taking a long sip of her drink as they waited near the door to the popular coffee chain. Danny made a confused "hm?" noise as he took a sip of his own. "That he wanted to ask Sam to prom?"

Danny's heart stopped, and he instantly returned his attention back to the pair of goths. They were customizing their Starbucks drink at the counter, smiling happily and chatting casually about something he couldn't heart.

God, of course! Fuck, he was so focused on every other dude that he forgot that Elliot wasn't gay. God damn it, and Sam would potentially actually say yes to him too.

"Uh. Um. I-uh." Danny coughed into his elbow as he tried to think of some way to respond that sounded normal. "No, he, um. Hasn't said anything to me yet." Nice response, Fenton.

"Oh, well, be prepared I guess," Paulina replied, taking a sip of her fancy-looking pink drink in the clear plastic cup.

Danny took a huge gulp of his coffee as he tried to process it. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He needed to think of how to reply to Elliot if the guy were to actually confront him or talk to him about it. His gut twisted. How was he supposed to reply? Elliot didn't deserve to go out with his Sam. What the fuck was that moron thinking? They were just friends.

"You guys ready?" Elliot glanced over his shoulder at them.

"Yup!" Paulina chirped. Elliot walked over with them, Sam quickly behind.

"You got your hourly Starbucks?" Elliot teased her.

"Mhm!" she hummed.

"You almost need to start working at Starbucks," Elliot told her.

"But then I'd just spend the whole paycheck on Starbucks," Paulina playfully protested.

"Fair, fair," Elliot hummed.

They exited, and they all piled into Elliot's car. Danny and Sam in the back, Paulina in her normal position in the passenger's seat.

"Do you know what kind of dress you're looking for?" Paulina asked as Elliot pulled out of the parking lot. Sam nodded.

"Yeah, definitely something black or purple," she said. "I'm really into long dresses lately, so probably a long dress, but I dunno! Short dresses are cute too."

"Oh short dresses are sooo in right now," Paulina agreed. "I want a short dress! Definitely pink, I want a really cute pastel pink maybe? But any shade of pink, I think it looks best on me."

"Hmm, yeah but greens look really good on you too," Elliot spoke up. "Like pastel and light greens?"

"They do but it's prom so I really want something pink," Paulina replied.

"Hmm, I think I look good in purple and black," Sam mused. "What do I look good in Danny?"

"Purple, black, red, and green, but like? An ecto green if that makes sense?" Danny said. Sam thought about it.

"Yeah, I really do like ecto green," she agreed. She shot him a sly smile. "Reminds me of Danny Phantom. And well. Ya know. I think he's really cute." Danny flushed, shyly smiling back.

"Ugh he's sooo cute," Paulina gushed. "His eyes are the most beautiful shade of green I've ever seen. Elliot, why are your eyes so dark." Elliot chuckled.

"Cause both of my parents have dark green eyes," he replied. Paulina huffed.

"I think that was rude of you. You should have bright green eyes like the ghost boy," she said.

"Yeah, it's pretty rude," Elliot agreed. "I'll fix that tomorrow."

"Do you actually think Danny Phantom's cute?" Danny asked Sam. She smiled, giving a half-shrug.

"Absolutely one of the cutest guys I've ever seen," she confirmed.

Danny took a long drink of his coffee, hoping that chugging some of it would help explain why his cheeks were beginning to burn.

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"Oh, this is sooo your color!"

"Oh my god! I love it! Do they have it in my size?"

"Hmm, um, lemme see...yeah! They do! Here!"

"Ugh I cannot wait to try it on! Oh! Oh look! Look at these sleeves, it's like a princess dress! I'm going to grab one to try it on."

"Ooo, that's going to look so good on you. Hm, I think I might try on that one too, cause it comes in dark purple and those sleeves kinda look witchy...Danny what do you think?"

Danny snapped out of his zoning out to look at Sam. The goth was holding up a short dress with long, flowy sleeves. It was a mid-dark purple and plain, though he had no doubt that Sam would likely customize it to her liking. She did that a lot with clothes.

"Yeah, looks good," he said neutrally.

"Oh, that'll look so good with your bat heels!" Elliot pipped up. Danny nearly forgot that the dude was sitting with him on what was dubbed the boyfriend bench near the dressing rooms. "Especially if you wear a corset over the midsection. Like if you found a purple version of that red one you have, with the black lace over it."

"Oo, that would potentially look so cute," Sam mused. She put the dress over her arm on top of two others. "I'm gonna go try these on."

"Oh, I should too," Paulina mused. Unlike Sam, her arms were overflowing with four, five? Danny counted at least ten different potential dresses if he went by the different looking fabrics alone.

"Yeah, you need to narrow some down," Sam told her.

"They're all just so pretty!" Paulina complained. "I wanna wear them all!"

"Well, let's just eliminate some," she suggested.

The girls went off to the dressing room, and Danny leaned back against the boyfriend bench. He pulled his phone out, and he replied to a message from Tucker and another from his mom. Man, was he not ready to face her later.

"So, Sam huh."

Danny glanced at Elliot.

"Uh, yeah. She's great," Danny replied shortly.

"She is, she is," he agreed with a slight hum. Elliot shifted to rest his elbows on his knees. "Ya know I was thinking about asking her to prom." Danny felt a lump stick in his throat.

"Really?" was all he could think to reply.

"Yeah!" Elliot smiled. "I mean, yeah. I wasn't the best dudes four years ago, but I feel a lot better about myself, ya know? I think I finally know who I am now, and I still really like Sam. She's funny, smart, really pretty. Love hanging out with her. Kinda wondering if she feels the same, and if she'd be down to go with me. What do you think?"

Danny bit his tongue to avoid an unnecessarily harsh reply, but he did get anger. How dare he. After all the lies he told Sam, and the way he lied and manipulated her. Sam deserved better than that.

"I um. I don't think you should go for it," Danny said hesitantly. Elliot raised a curious eyebrow.

"Why, did she tell you something?" he asked. "Or did somebody else ask her?"

"Um. Well, not exactly," he hesitated. Danny bit his lower lip. "I mean, I know she likes you. As a friend!" he quickly added. "But uh, I dunno man. Just don't think it's a good idea."

"What do you mean, is somebody else going to ask her?" Elliot asked.

"Why does it matter?" Danny nearly snapped. "You asked me what I thought, and I said it."

Elliot snickered in amusement, rolling his eyes. It only served to irritate Danny even more. Foreign phony. God, why did they even hang out with Elliot? Paulina and Elliot made sense, cause they were both huge prep kids and did cheerleading and soccer respectively, making them both jocks. But why did he have to hang out with Elliot. Well, because Sam and Paulina were friends now, and that meant that Danny also had to be friends with Paulina's friends. Of fucking course.

"What's so funny?" he demanded to know.

"I think I get why," Elliot smirked.

"What do you mean?" Danny questioned. Elliot just shook his head. Danny opened his mouth to question again.

"Hey! Whatcha think?"

Danny shut his mouth as Paulina bounce out in her first dress option. It was a bright pink dress that came to her knees, the skirt incredibly puffy and reminding Danny of a ballerina tutu, with inch wide straps.

"Oh, it looks so good on you boo," Elliot cooed to her. Paulina beamed, twirreling. "But that may also just be you, you look fabulous in everything." Paulina put her hands over her chest.

"Thank you," she gushed. "Can you take my photo? I wanna compare all the dresses I wear."

"Of course," Elliot agreed, pulling his phone out. He snapped a photo of her.

"Oh Sam!" Paulina squealed.

Danny noticed the goth coming out in a fully black dress that also came only to her knees, with a much slimmer skirt and short sleeves. It looked fairly plain, but man. Sam still made it look great. Danny was glad he was sitting, because he knew he was weak kneed.

Sam was smiling brightly, giving Paulina a light wave.

"I take it you like it?" Sam questioned, doing a quick turn around.

"Girl you always look so good in black," Paulina praised.

"She's sooo right," Elliot agreed. "It just looks so good on you, no matter what. Just." Elliot made a chef kiss motion. Sam flushed a light pink, and Danny glared at him. Dude, shut up. "No wonder you're goth. You were just made for black."

"I dunno, I think you're exaggerating," she replied. Sam glanced down at her outfit. "I mean, it's fairly simple. What do you think, Danny?"

Danny swallowed hard.

"Oh uh, I think it looks great!" he said, smiling brightly. Sam returned it. "I mean like. It's kinda? Plain but I know you'd make it something great. You always do." Sam hummed.

"Mm yeah. It's pretty plain, but I dunno if I wanna put in the amount of work it'd take to make this dress really poppin'," she mused. "I'm gonna go try another one on."

The two girls went back to the dressing room, and Danny could hear their lighthearted conversation. Soon as they turned the corner, he spoke up.

"What do you mean?" Danny demanded to know. Elliot snorted.

"Bro, just admit that you like her, and that you don't want me to take her to prom," he said.

"Where on earth would you get that idea!?" Danny scowled. Elliot rolled his eyes.

"Dude, you've been crazy about her since like, what? Ninth grade at the earliest? Paulina says you two have been making googly eyes at each other since like third grade," he said. Danny felt his cheeks flush. It had not been since the third grade. Had it?

"It's not like that," he insisted. "I just, you know. Really love and worry about her, she's my best friend."

"Best friends don't get worked up like this, this much, over a mutual friend asking them out."

Danny just glared at Elliot before rubbing his face with the palms of his hands. He took a deep breath, exhaling hard.

"How's it look?" Sam's voice asked. Danny glanced up, and his heart just absolutely flipped.

She looked amazing. Beautiful. Stunning. Like a plant goddess, a model, an angel. He felt like there wasn't a flaw to be found, and he had never seen somebody look more enchanting. Her dress made her look even more divine, emphasising and showing off the best parts of her. The purple matching her eyes, the dress fitting her absolutely perfect as it flowed almost to the floor and the strapless feature making her hair flow smoothly over her shoulders. This dress was perfect for her.

But none of those descriptors came out. Instead all he could do is nervously swallow, tongue tied as he felt his cheeks burn up. He struggled to pick just one of those adjectives, and his brain settled for just saying nothing at all and simply staring at her instead.

"Oh, you just look so lovely!" Elliot spoke up. He stood up, going over to walk around her. "It fits you perfect, like it hugs your hips just right and really shows off your-"

"Pretty!" Danny suddenly half-yelled. The group looked at him oddly, and he felt his face flush harder. "It makes you look pretty!"

"Thank you," Sam replied, pausing a bit as she raised an eyebrow at him.

"...Uh, yeah. Um, yes!" Elliot clasped his hands together. "Just stunning. I love this purple on you, it's such a beautiful color. This dress specifically was made for you."

"Dude, chill," Danny grumbled. Sam gave him a Look, and he flinched.

"Danny, can I talk to you for a moment?" Sam asked through gritted teeth.

He had no opportunity to respond, as she grabbed his arm, painfully hard owwie, and began to drag him away, towards another boyfriend bench near a jewelry display counter and out of earshot.

"What's going on?" Sam demanded to know. She finally let go of his arm, and he huffed for a moment. Instead of responding, he put his hands behind his head, pacing back and forth. She quickly grew impatient. "Well? Say something!"

"Elliot wants to ask you to prom!" he blurted out, letting his hands fall. Sam blinked.

"He does?" she asked, sounding clearly surprised and...not angry. Sam smiled a little. "Really?"

"Oh don't tell me you're gonna actually take that foreign phony up on the offer!" Danny snapped. Sam instantly glared at him, crossing her arms.

"Elliot's our friend, dude," Sam reminded him. "Why do you care?"

"B-b-because!" Danny's arms were moving wildly as he talked. "He lied to you for months, and you're just going to ignore all that!"

"That was years ago, and he apologized," she said. "He's more than made up for it. And he's a super sweet guy. I like him."

"You like him!?" Danny nearly shouted. Sam slapped his upper shoulder with the back of her hand.

"Calm down and lower your voice," she told him. "And well, yeah. As a friend. Maybe I kinda like him more than that too."

"What the fuck, Sam!?" Danny, in fact, did not lower his voice. He dry-heaved for a few seconds, briefly making Sam start to watch him worriedly. Finally, he took a deep breath, and he returned to a normal inside voice. "What does he have that I don't?"

She went from worried to a blank stare.

"Apparently liking me enough to say or do something, especially when I've dropped so many hints or made moves myself," she replied. She brushed past him and left, returning to their friends.

Danny found himself taking a seat on the bench as he tried to collect his thoughts and the wide range of emotions that accompanied them. He put his head in his hands, rubbing his face. God he was so fucking stupid.

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"And it's just! Why him! Why Elliot?" Danny continued to vent after spilling the whole story. Jazz gave a small hum of acknowledgement as she finished writing another name out on the envelope. She set it aside for Danny. "I've liked Sam for so long, and I thought she liked me too."

"You're an idiot," Jazz immediately concluded. Danny glared at her as he folded another wedding invite, slipping it into an already addressed envelope before putting the sticker on the back to keep it sealed shut, and a stamp on the other side. Both were sitting on the floor of the apartment she shared with Spike, with each sibling on the opposite side of the coffee table, with Jazz resting her back against the couch and Danny sitting within reaching distance of their TV.

"Hey!" he protested. Jazz gave him a Look, grabbing another envelope.

"I mean it. She does like you, and she has for a while," she told him. She began to write out another address. "You just always never responded. You pushed her off in favor of another girl or because of some weird commitment issue that you seem to have going on. So be honest with me, and yourself. What's the problem?"

Danny silently folded two more invites, repeating the process of putting them in addressed envelopes and putting the sticker and stamp on.

"...I'm scared," he finally admitted.

"What of?" Jazz asked, not looking up from her activity. Danny had to really think. He casually tossed the finished wedding invite into the 'finished' basket.

"I guess just...it not working out. What if it doesn't work out? What if it drives us apart, and we lose each other?"

"You won't know that until you try," Jazz replied.

"She might also reject me, cause of the same mentality. What if she still likes Elliot more, and-"

"Danny," Jazz interrupted. She finally looked up from writing. "You will never know what the future will and won't hold. Just talk to her, and let her be part of the choice rather than blowing it all off due to fear."

He thought about it, and he gave a small sigh.

"Yeah...I think she's kinda pissed that I haven't been letting her be part of the choice anyway," he mused. He glanced at the pile of envelopes next to her. "How many invites do you have left?"

Jazz checked her list.

"Least a hundred more to go," she sighed.

"What the fuck, you have like no friends! Who are these people!?" Danny cried out. Jazz glared at him, reaching behind her to grab a pillow to hit him with.

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Knock knock knock.

Danny floated awkwardly outside of her window. She didn't answer, but he could tell that she was there. Her light was clearly on, and he could hear her music playing.

Knock knock knock.

"Sam?" he called out. "Sam, can we please talk?" He knocked some more.

The longest minute of his life passed before he heard the music turn off. The curtains opened, and Sam was on the other side, staring incredibly annoyed at him. She gestured for him to come inside, and he did. His feet landed on the floor, and she reshut the curtains.

"What do you want?" she snapped. Danny exhaled deeply.

"Sam…" He took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry about how I've been acting. I've just been…"

"Stupid?" she suggested.

"Yeah. But more importantly. I." He paused. "I've been honestly such a huge coward. Still kinda am, actually. Like…" He swallowed nervously, glancing at the ground. "I've been too afraid to bring it up or to really even talk to you about it."

Sam cocked her head to the side. She took a few steps back, sitting down on her bed and patting the spot next to it.

"Talk to me," she encouraged. Danny plopped down next to her, turning human as he did so.

"I want to be with you," he said bluntly. "But just...I get so caught up in all these what-ifs. What if it doesn't work out? What if you get tired of me? What if you eventually realize that it sucks being with somebody who has to cancel dates or who ditches you because I have to stop Skulker or Technus or Ember? What if you get hurt because of me? What if…" he trailed off, not even wanting to get into deeper thoughts.

"I wish you had told me this sooner," Sam spoke softly. "We could have talked about it." Danny sighed.

"I know, I know. I just." He rubbed the palms of his hands up and down his thighs as he tried to provide some kind of a rational answer. "I'm afraid. Even now. I don't want to lose you."

"You're not going to lose me," Sam reassured him. She put her hand on top of one of his, and he stopped. "You're one of my best friends, and I love you so much."

"...I love you too," he confessed. He turned his wrist, moving to intertwine their fingers together. "I can't imagine a future without you being there in some way. And I just...I guess I've always been worried about you not wanting to be there anymore."

"I'll always want to be there," she smiled. She leaned in, lightly pecking his cheek. He sighed deeply in relief. "Even if we tried, and we found that it didn't work, that doesn't mean we can't still be friends after. But we'll never really know unless...you know. We tried."

"So, I guess that means that um...you'd be interested in maybe going to prom with me?" he asked.

"Of course, ya dingus." She lightly tapped his new nose ring. "So. How much trouble are you in with your mom?" Danny flinched.

"Man, let's just say I'm surprised she didn't fully kill me."

[thepigeonsopinion]

So, "Hack San" was released...

The episode "Hack San" has finally been released and here I am now, about to go on and on about the episode :) But first let's do a small summary or synopsis of the episode!

Warning: Spoilers to the episode "Hack San"

Summary:

The episode starts off with Marinette trying to make up excuses to stay in Paris/home, instead of going to London to visit her Aunt. So far, all of her attempts have been failures. Marinette then has no choice but to leave Paris with her family. Meanwhile, Gabriel or Shadowmoth creates a new sentimonster with the name of Hack San, which is a virus that allows for Markov to be vulnerable to an akuma. Then, Marinette contacts Alya to meet her at the train station before she is to leave. Marinette gives Alya the Ladybug miraculous trusting her to protect Paris while she is gone. Alya has a chat with the kwami's, Tikki and Trixx, in which they tell her the ups and downs of being the holder of the Ladybug miraculous and the guardian of the miracle box. Alya returns to the park that she was hanging out at before Marinette contacted her. At the park, Alya starts to fuss over everyone's emotions, mainly if they are feeling any negative emotions. Meanwhile, Markov is effected by the virus and is akumatized by Shadowmoth and becomes Robustus. Robustus then (through the internet) takes control of people and orders them to give him their most prized possessions. While on the train, Marinette's parents are affected by Robustus, which leads to Marinette being captured by Robustus. It is then Alya's responsibility to protect Paris. Alya transforms into her version of Ladybug, and while she is trying to find her new super hero name she is met with Chat Noir. Chat Noir does not immediately trusts the new super heroine and suspects they are the villain. However, this distrust is cut short because of the akuma Robustus still being at large. Robustus orders everyone to capture Ladybug and Chat Noir. The super heroes hear a person crying for help and while Chat Noir is at first suspicious, Alya heads straight to where the civilian's voice was heard. This turns out to be a trap and the super heroes are forced to run into a building where they are also trapped by Robustus. Alya summons her Lucky Charm to aid her in this situation. Alya or Scarabella receives a frying pan. This leads her to think of a plan to manipulate Robustus to release the people's possessions in exchange for both her and Chat Noir. Robustus agrees to this and releases all of the objects and among those objects is Marinette who catches on quickly to the plan and uses the frying pan to release the akuma. The super heroes are released as well and Alya uses her Miraculous Ladybug. And as always, Paris is saved once again. A few days later, Marinette and her family are back from her trip and Alya suggest Marinette/Ladybug go talk to Chat Noir, and she does. Ladybug and Chat Noir have a talk about how someone knows about Ladybug's secret identity and Chat's new found fear that Ladybug might not be there anymore, in which Ladybug gives him the reassurance that she won't be going anywhere. And, the episode ends.

Yay! Another very detailed and unnecessary summary of the episode! Welp! It's too late now. :|

Anyway! Now onto my opinion or thoughts on the episode!

(Also I'm re-watching the episode as I do this so this might have some unnecessary details. Anyway, carry on!)

First things first the, I know that Marinette is trying to get out of going to London and staying in Paris, but I swear her excuses are getting weaker. I swear she had better excuses in the earlier seasons or is it just me? Not to mention, since Marinette is so desperate to stay in Paris she purposefully trips down the stairs. Damn the dedication and I mean, I know that Marinette needs to stay in Paris just in case, but she has left Paris like three times now, you would think that she would have a backup plan if anything happened in Paris when she wasn't there (and I'll talk about one of her solutions later on *cough cough Scarabella cough cough*). Also, Tom's desperation and persistence for Marinette to come on the trip is kinda amusing. And the not so subtle jabs at the aunt :0

Moving on! Ummm Nooroo and Dusuu you know that Gabriel is RIGHT there right? I mean he could probably hear what your saying. Also, Gabriel are you just deaf or did you not just hear what they said? Because their right behind you. When Shadowmoth made Hack San, was the weird "Haah" sound really necessary? Also, why does the virus, USB thingy low key look like Nino's shirt logo. Are they somehow connected? Or did they just run out of ideas for the design? (Not me being salty over a sentimonsters design) Why the fuck is this robot doing like three things at the same time? I know that he's a robot, but come on.

Hmmmm. No other option you say? What about bringing the Horse miraculous with you like in Startrain? Or use the cosmic suits that can legit let you fly around the world? Come on, let's be honest here giving Alya the Ladybug miraclulous wasn't the ONLY option. Claps to Alya for doing a fake doubting act, but in reality just trying to think of a new superhero name. You almost got me there Astruc, you almost made me thought that Alya had her doubts about taking over for Marinette, but in reality is just super excited to take over. Props to you my dude, props! Also, I'm not going to lie Alya all of your name ideas are kinda weak, I mean the fandom has better name ideas than you do, but then again that is to be expected. Props to the kwamis for putting all the pressure that Marinette has on her back and transferring it to Alya. Thank you for making Alya aware of all the pressure Marinette's under. Even if Alya's probably not going to bring it up and probably will just brush it off. Yes, Alya just keep telling your self that this weekend is going to be totally chill. Not to mention, Tikki being more supportive to Alya than to Marinette, whaaaaaaaaaaa- :0. Alya you just told yourself that this weekend was going to be chill why the heck are you making your life harder for yourself. To be honest, if your acting like this already you deserve whatever is coming for you. Marinette, honey, why the fuck do you need to right down 675 tips for Alya? I mean I get 33 tips even 40, but 675, really? Not to mention, the tip about laughing at Chat Noir's jokes even if they aren't funny just to make him happy, why the fuck do you need to keep him happy he could be mad, upset, or sad and I wouldn't give a fuck :p.

I will say this again, how the fuck does a multi-intelligent robot that is connected the world wide web, that is also doing at least 4 things at the same time get tempted and corrupted by a virus by clicking on a cute kitty cat ad. HOW!?! EXPLAIN THAT TO ME!?!

Okay, so remember when we thought we were actually going to get a canon Marcenial moment. Hahaha welp Astruc you've done it again you have crushed our shipping dreams again. I hope your proud of yourself. Also, the most precious possession to Marc is his and Nathaniel's manga/comic, really?

Damn the amount of times this girl makes us and Trixx second guess that she's doubting herself, like she's done it three times now. Not to mention, why is her ladybug suit more detailed than Marinette's hmmm? I mean, don't get me wrong I like the design, but why can't Marinette have a detailed suit like this? Also why is Alya acting like The Owl? *Hoot Hoot!* I also just realised that the kwamis are a bit territorial, well not Tikki, but Plagg and Trixx have proven themselves to be a bit territorial of their holders.

I love Chat Noir's distrust to Alya as Ladybug because this shows a different side of Chat Noir that Paris doesn't see, but does Alya see this and realize how much of a ass he is? Nope. Also, not going to lie, his distrust kinda amuses me. Carrying on! Chat Noir, I can hear the toxic jealousy from here my dude, you might want to tone it down a bit, you've got a audience here you know. You know, I was expecting him to say his most prized possession was Ladybug, or even his kwami, Plagg, but I wasn't expecting him to say croquettes. OMG! GUYS! IT'S HAPPENING! CHAT IS FINALLY BEING CAUTIOUS FOR ONCE INSTEAD OF IMMEDIATELY JUMPING INTO TROUBLE!!! Also, Chat Noir being responsible whaaaaaaa- :0. Ummm, why the fuck did they just run into a building, when they legit could've jumped out of that mess, like seriously why isn't anyone using their head today?

Moving on! Why the heck is most of this episode just Alya trying to think of a super hero name like seriously, I know it's supposed to be some kinda of gag, but it's starting to get a bit annoying. Chat Noir being supportive to Alya: *slow clap*. When Alya's whole plan is to just to leave everything up to Marinette, Me: Wow! I TOtAlLy didn't see that coming! Hehehe Chat Noir with a pot over his head. You know, I thought upset Chat Noir was enough for this episode, but now we get sad Chat Noir and Ladybug reassuring him, just wow, you have out done yourself Astruc.

AND! That's that end of the episode! So all in all, this episode wasn't that bad? But it wasn't my favorite (maybe one of my least favorite tbh :0) Mainly, because of the appearance of Scarabella and ladybug catering to Chat Noir needs. This is probably mainly because I'm a bit biased, but in my opinion and I will repeat in MY OPINION I don't think Alya really deserves to get the miraculous. I mean yeah, Marinette has given her trust to her and has told her that she is Ladybug, but has she really done anything to show that she deserves that trust. If I'm being honest she has shown more reasons for Marinette not to trust her. One of the reasons being that Alya doesn't fully trust Marinette herself, and the other being that she disobeyed Marinette by telling Nino that she is still Rena Rouge and not telling her that she did so.

Anyway! Those are most of my thought's on this episode. This has been a loooong week for me with the addition of school now. So expect me to be posting more on the weekends than on weekdays.

Anywho! I hope everyone has a great rest of their day. And always remember...

But that's just my opinion (・ε・)

(This week has been soooo tiring and with the edition of this episode and a sneak peek of a new episode coming up, I know it's only beginning. *smiles through the pain :)*)

[rachaelswrites]

Mission:AU

Chapter One- Gender Swap

Peter Parker x Barnes!reader

Previous Part

You woke up in an unfamiliar room and you sat up and stretched. You looked around the room to try and find something you recognized. You saw a phone on the bedside table and grabbed it. You caught a quick glance at your reflection on the screen and your jaw dropped. You were Peter. You looked down and saw that you were definitely in his body. 

Peter woke up in a familiar situation. He immediately noticed he was you, since you had a full length mirror opposite the bed. He jumped up and looked around for your phone. He could hear music playing and figured Bucky was awake. He unlocked the phone and called you, or himself.

You got a call on the phone in your hands. You saw it was your own name (or Peter) and answered. 

“Y/n? What the hell happened? Are you trapped in my body? Because I’m trapped in yours!” 

“Yes Peter. It seems we are in quite a predicament,” you tried to remain calm while Peter freaked out. You both agreed to meet up at a park and hung up. You snuck out of Peter’s room and he did the same. 

You didn’t know Queens very well, since you grew up in Brooklyn. You asked some people for help to find your way to the park. After about a half an hour of riding the subway and walking, you spotted Peter. You were surprised he managed to pick out such a good outfit. You didn’t even change out of the clothes you woke up in. 

“Oh my god Y/n!” Peter ran towards you and pulled you into a hug. 

You awkwardly maneuvered out of his grip, since people started giving you weird looks.

“Do you have any idea what’s happening? What’s the last thing you remember before this morning?” you wanted to get to the bottom of this. 

“Umm. We were on the mission and the guy attacked us with the machine. And then I woke up in your room.”

You rubbed your temples in frustration. Peter walked you over to a bench and sat you down, sensing your stress.

 “Damn it. It’s like we’re stuck in that one movie with the fortune cookies.” you tried to remember what is what. 

Peter helped you out, “You mean Freaky Friday?” he asked.

You nodded.

 “True but we don’t have to learn a lesson like they did. Maybe we have to do something else. Oo! Like in Teen Beach Movie! The characters get stuck in a musical and the only way to get out is to finish the storyline. Do you remember that movie?”

You glared at him, “No Peter. I don’t remember some stupid movie because if you can recall, I was stuck in Wakanda for two years and then I had to deal with my dad and my friend’s death. I didn’t have time to watch movies,” you snapped, “And besides. We’re not in a musical so there’s no storyline to finish,” He was taken aback. And quite frankly so were you. You never really snapped at anyone before. You stood up from the bench and Peter followed. 

“I’m sorry Y/n I didn’t realize. Maybe instead of a storyline, we have to live the day as each other.” 

You turned your head and looked at him. It did make sense. You sighed, “Yeah probably. We just can’t get caught. Try to stay away from my dad today and I’ll avoid May.”

“How am I supposed to lie to The Winter Soldier?” he asked. 

“Tell him you have cramps. It always works. Plus, he’s not The Winter Soldier anymore,” you shrugged. 

Peter was about to say something but you were already skipping down the sidewalk back to Queens. 

Peter got back to the apartment complex you and Bucky lived in. He went upstairs and quietly slipped in. 

“Hey sweetheart. Where’d you go so early?” your dad asked. 

Peter hesitated until he remembered what you told him, “Uh cramps!” he blurted. He smiled sheepishly and waited for Bucky’s response. 

He stood up and walked to Peter, putting his hand on his forehead, "Are you feeling ok? Normally you don’t leave bed because of those.”

Peter had to think quickly, "I just uh… needed some fresh air.”

Bucky nodded and left the room. Peter quickly made his way back into your room. He pulled out your phone and called himself. 

“Hey Y/n. Did you get back ok?” Peter asked. 

“I’m on the subway still. I’ll be there in a few though. What’s up?”

“I was just making sure you were safe. It can be dangerous out there.”

You giggled at Peter’s protectiveness for you. You two had only grown close over the last day but anything he had done had given you butterflies. 

“I’ll be ok. I was a Hydra assassin for decades, remember?” 

Peter nodded, even though you couldn’t see it. He remembered the girl at the airport. He didn’t want to hurt her. She looked so fragile until he saw her almost take down Natasha by herself. He so badly wanted to pull her away from the fighting and keep her safe. Tony had told him not to. ‘Who knows what Barnes and Rogers would do if they found out you took her,’ those were the exact words Tony said. 

“Also there's a change of clothes I keep under my pillow. Just letting you know so you don’t have to dig through drawers.” 

“Ok thanks Petey!” you said. You had never called him that before.

“Goodbye Y/n/n,” he said. 

You hung up the phone just in time to get off the train. 

The rest of the day was pretty boring for both of you. You had to shoo May away multiple times. Claiming you had a huge headache and just wanted to sleep. Instead of sleeping, you looked around Peter’s room. You studied his photographs and posters and flipped through his books and comics. You pulled down a cardboard box from the closet and opened it. They were a bunch of old yearbooks. You sat crisscross on the ground and read them one by one. School changed a lot since you were last in one. You imagined yourself in Peter’s place and then imagined yourself alongside him. Being his best friend through all these years. 

Peter did the same thing you did. He went through some of your things from your childhood. He was always fascinated by history. He flipped through the clothes in your closet until he noticed a section in the back. The hangers were facing the opposite way as the others. He pulled them back and found a box. He grabbed the box and sat down on the bed. He pulled off the lid and stared at it’s contents. There were multiple journals, new and old. There were also loose leaf papers that looked like they belonged in a museum (which they did at one point). He emptied the box and looked at the papers. Some of them were flyers advertising the enlistment stations and others were photographs of you as a child. Most of them were either taken by Bucky or if he was in them with you, Steve. He saw a picture of just Bucky in his uniform by the train station.

 “This was probably the day he left,” he said quietly.

 He went to put the photos back but the bed dipped and some of the journals fell. He leaned down and saw one of them fell open. 

He grabbed it and read the page it was on:

I dreamt I was on the beach. Dad and Steve were playing catch. I was wrapped in a blanket cause Dad didn’t want me getting sick. I was about three. Before they tried to enlist. I remember Steve was invited but didn't want to go at first because Dad said it was ‘daddy daughter bonding time’ eventually Steve gave in and joined. I don’t remember if this part happened: I was really excited and tried to go swim but dad grabbed me by the waist to stop me. He said I had to stay with him since I was so small. I didn’t like that so I pouted. Then he tickled me and chased me until I was smiling and laughing. I hope that part was real. It was one of the happiest times of my life.

Peter smiled at the thought of baby you being happy and stress free. He noticed a note at the bottom of the page. It was dated the day of your mission. Peter remembered you told him you had a good dream, this must've been it. He heard Bucky’s footsteps down the hall and quickly put everything back in the box and slid it under the bed. Bucky knocked and Peter let him in. 

“Hey I was just seeing if you wanted something to eat. I can make something or I can order in. Up to you.” 

“Uh I don’t really mind. I’m ok with anything.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows, "Really? Normally you beg me to order from Panda Express. I don’t even know why you like that place so much.”

“Yeah I mean I’ll have that. I just wanted to let you have a say also.” 

Bucky chuckled and shook his head. He turned and closed the door. Peter heard him a few minutes later on the phone ordering food. Peter went to go to the bathroom. He looked down and screamed. Bucky came running to the room and opened the door. “Y/n? What’s wrong? Are you ok?” 

Peter walked out of the bathroom and looked at your dad, "I’m...Uh...Bleeding.”

Bucky had concern written all over his face., "Oh. Do you need help with the wound or help cleaning up?” he asked. 

Peter looked at him and realized he didn’t know what he meant, "It’s not from an injury though,” he explained. 

Bucky looked confused. Then it hit him, "Sweetheart. You know this happens every month and is normal. Do we need to have the talk again?” 

Peter was mortified. He totally forgot that he didn’t know that he was trapped in your body. Peter shook his head, "Umm. No, I'm good. It just sur-” a sudden wave of cramps hit Peter and he doubled over in pain, “Shit it hurts,” he mumbled. 

Bucky bent down to pick him up. He carried him to the bed and sat him down. 

“I’ll get you some meds ok. You can eat up here tonight,” Bucky kissed the top of his head and left. 

You had run into a similar situation in Queens. You were laying on Peter’s bed staring at the ceiling, messing with his webs. You were shooting them around the room, seeing what you could grab. You were too preoccupied and didn’t hear May knocking on the door. When she didn’t hear a response she opened the door and went in. You got startled and somehow managed to web yourself to the bed. “Oh sorry Peter. I didn’t know you were doing… what ever you were just doing,” 

“It’s not what you’re thinking Mis- I mean May,” you stuttered. 

“Peter it’s fine. You don’t have to explain. But we do have to get you out of those webs,” she moved over to the drawer where Peter must’ve kept the web remover stuff. After a few minutes, you were finally free. 

[mostlysignssomeportents]

K-Zombies

When you and your friends put your fingers on the ouija board planchette and it starts moving around, there's a chance your friends are just yanking your chain - but just as possible is that your friends are experiencing the ideomotor response.

That's when your unconscious mind directs your muscles without your conscious knowledge. The movement of the planchette doesn't tell you what's going on in the spirit world, but it does tell you something about the internal weather of your friend's psyche, fears and hopes.

Our narratives are social-scale planchettes, directed by mass ideomotor response. When a fake news story takes hold, it reveals a true fact: namely, the shared, internal models of how the world really works.

Fake news is an oracle, in other words.

https://locusmag.com/2019/07/cory-doctorow-fake-news-is-an-oracle/

There's no spirit-realm directing planchettes. Supernatural phenomena are nonsense, in all their guises. Mediums are fraudsters or deluded - and so are soothsayers who claim to be able to predict the future. That goes for fortune-tellers and futurists alike.

A shocking number of self-described "rational" science fiction writers share the delusional view that they can predict the future. These pulp Nostradamii point to "predictions" of sf that have "come true" and claim to have an inside line on the world of tomorrow.

Sf *has* an important relationship to the future, though! It can be a planchette: all the futures imagined by all the sf writers are a kind of mutation-space, and the fitness factor that determines whether a story thrives or sinks is whether it captures public imagination.

Sf writers and readers are a means for society to reflect back, amplify and examine our unarticulated hopes and fears about our *present* technology. Sf doesn't predict the future, but sf readers and writers do an excellent job of predicting the present.

And since the present is the standing wave where the past is being transformed into the future, knowing about the present can be a source of insights into what's coming - and not just because sf reveals what's going on in the present, but also because it influences it.

People who are captured by imaginative, futuristic parables about the problems and possibilities of technology acquire a set of intuition-pumps for coping with the future when it arrives, reflexive views and actions about what the future demands of us.

Gene Rodenberry didn't predict the Motorola flip-phone. Rather, when a generation of Motorola designers and engineers were asked to make a mobile communications device their minds immediately flew to the Star Trek communicators they grew up with.

Thinking of fantastic fiction as measurement device and influence machine is a productive way to pick apart the meaning of literary trends.

As I wrote in my intro to the bicentennial re-release of FRANKENSTEIN, the rise and fall of Shelley's book tracks to the rise and fall of fears related to the book's various themes:

https://muse.jhu.edu/chapter/1974387

So what are we to make of K-zombies? Korean pop culture is experiencing a golden age of zombie movies, games, comics and other media.  

https://www.latimes.com/world-nation/story/2021-02-23/zombies-are-everywhere-south-korea-fears

Zombies have a lot of different themes, of course, and some are easy to map to the current situation: the fear of contagion and the need to distance yourself from loved ones who have become infected. The parallels to covid hardly need explaining.

But the K-zombie phenomenon predates the pandemic, and zombie stories aren't merely contagion stories - they're often stories about the lurking bestiality of nearly everyone around us.

That's behind stories like The Walking Dead, about the propensity of all our "normal" friends and neighbors to transform into an insensate, rampaging mob. These zombie stories are a throwback to the "cozy catastrophes" of John Wyndham and co:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/03/29/grifters-gonna-grift/#wyndhamesque

These are stories of racial and class anxiety, of xenophobia and the literal othering of someone who *seems* to be just like you but is actually a secret monster. Again, on a divided peninsula, it's not hard to see how stories of lurking otherness would catch hold.

Zombie stories are also stories about the fragility of social cohesion: stories about how we're never "all in this together" and how, when the chips are down, it'll be "the war of all against all." That, too, feels very zeitgeisty given recent South Korean politics.

South Korea has an ugly, authoritarian past that is at odds with its founding myth as the "good Korea," the "democratic Korea." But the post-war reconstruction of the country by the US elevated an elite to a position of near-total authority and impunity.

They abused this power in ghastly ways, running forced-labor camps for poor people and people with disabilities, with rampant physical and sexual abuse. Families who lost their loved ones were traumatized to learn that they'd ended up in the camps.

https://web.archive.org/web/20160423131643/https://bigstory.ap.org/article/c22de3a565fe4e85a0508bbbd72c3c1b/ap-s-korea-covered-mass-abuse-killings-vagrants

These forced-labor camps (which continue in a slightly modified form to this day) supplied slaves to chaebols, the conglomerates that represent the country on a world stage. Unsurprisingly, the leadership of these companies is also grossly corrupt:

https://www.bangkokpost.com/business/2052871/samsung-chief-jailed-for-2-5-years-over-corruption-scandal

Korea is also riven by messianic cults, and the leaders of these cults have close ties to the Korean political class, an incredibly politically destabilizing fact that has caused recent Korean governments to collapse:

https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-37971085

South Korea, in other words, isn't just haunted by the spectre of aggression from the north - but also by the possibility of internal rupture. It has a huge, authoritarian secret police force that has been caught secretly meddling in electoral politics.

Far from reining in this spookocracy, the South Korean political class has tried to hand them even MORE powers, with LESS oversight. Today is the fifth anniversary of the Korean opposition's filibuster to stop the worst of these.

(Seo Ki-Ho, a politician with the affectionate nickname "Milhouse" for his resemblance to the Simpsons character read the Korean edition of my novel LITTLE BROTHER into the record during the filibuster!)

https://memex.craphound.com/2016/02/26/south-korean-lawmakers-stage-filibuster-to-protest-anti-terror-bill-read-from-little-brother/

This othering is also sharply illustrated in the country's culture of misogynistic voyeurism, which goes beyond "upskirt" videos and includes a roaring trade in videos captured with hidden cameras in toilets, changing rooms and hotel rooms.

It's hard to overstate the reach of this practice, and its political salience: it has provoked a vast mass-movement of women and allies demanding an end to the practice and a reckoning with institutional sexism:

https://www.khaosodenglish.com/culture/net/2020/10/21/voyeurs-are-selling-photos-of-women-at-the-protest-online/

Zombies aren't ever just about contagion - they're also always an expression of a deep anxiety that your neighbors aren't what they seem, that in a pinch, they'll turn on you, and not just because they've been infected, but also to protect themselves and their comfort.

US zombie booms always have an element of this: 1950s (reds under the bed); 1980s (red menace redux); 2000s (immigration "crisis"), etc. It'd be amazing if the only thing driving K-zombies' popularity was the pandemic, or even less plausibly, a mere aesthetic coincidence.