#But honestly that's a lot of new information

[void-galaxy-shenanigans]

I hope it’s okay to take a related but different turn on this. I have this happen sometimes, but I have a fun D.I.D. experience with it that I want to share.

I (Nico) write a lot of stories. It’s my primary coping mechanism for stress & trauma. That means a lot of OCs, a lot of AUs, a lot of outlines or plans for stories.

(acronyms here: Dissociative Identity Disorder (D.I.D.); Original Character (OC); Alternate Universe (AU))

However, we also have D.I.D., and because I find the most comfort in fictional stories & in characters I relate to, I often split my own OCs.

Sometimes they take over their story. I’m leaving Nightwalker’s Dream to Harley & Azure; it’s their (love) story. (Harley & Azure are fully taking over; it’s out of my hands now (/not upset).)

Sometimes people front to add something & then let me continue. Sometimes they add notes in my document/notebook of where they want the plot to go.

But sometimes, something even funnier happens. (Or something really sweet.)

I start writing a new piece, and they pop into co-con to make commentary on what I’m writing. They critique, they laugh (/supportive, positive), they smile at the sweet parts.

(co-con = co-conscious, AKA they’re awake/able to communicate but not in control of the body; co-front/front = taking over the body)

It would probably be startling to anyone without D.I.D. if your characters started talking to you / literally writing their own story. But it’s quickly becoming my favourite part of writing LucKai.

LucKai is a ship name, like in fanfic, but they’re both my OCs - Luciano (he/him) & Kairo (he/they).

Sometimes Luciano takes over. He usually adds a line or corrects phrasing (I automatically write in first person, & sometimes he’s like ‘I understand what you mean, but I’d say it like this’). Honestly that’s rather in character (he tends to be very logical, in part to hide from/avoid emotional vulnerability), so it makes sense.

But usually it’s Kai, and he’s a sap (/affectionate). He takes over to gush about his partner*. He’s a poet and his emotions spill all over the pages (/metaphor, positive). On occasion he’ll contribute something factual, especially something on trauma-informed psychology that he remembers researching for us**. But usually he’s here to brag about Luc. (That’s also in character.)

(* using partner because whether they’re mutually-crushing-in-denial, dating, or fiancés varies by story, & they’re married in our system 🤷‍♂️)

(** Kai & Spirit do most of that research so I forget the specifics 😅)

Their (Kai’s) rambles are my favourite part now. I got a whole paragraph out of him when I wrote a confession scene for one of my pieces (I can share if people wanna see). They’re the sweetest lover (/sincere, positive).

(And of course now LucKai are in the background grinning sheepishly (/amused, affectionate). They love to gush/brag about one another, but get shy if it’s acknowledged. (Not in a please-don’t way but in a yeah-I-do-that-but-now-I’m-extra-aware-of-it kind of way (/affectionate, supportive).)

But yeah, this is a thing. I get to witness my OCs write (or chime in to critique) their stories in real time. ☺💜

~Nico (he/they)

the best part of writing is when your characters start ignoring your outline and you realize they’re better at this than you.

[keplercryptids]

listen. when i see posts spreading blatant political misinformation coming from a place of fear, which will certainly cause more fear, my hackles go UP. and that isn't because i am underestimating what conservative US leadership will do, and it's not because i am ignorant to the rise of fascism in the west.

my hackles are up because fear mongering is unhelpful, dangerous, and going to hurt the most vulnerable among us.

i read a thread recently (would link to it but i can't remember the source) about how we cannot let ourselves do the government's work for them. that means not complying to laws that haven't been passed yet, and then continuing to not comply, as we're able, even if they are passed. we need to resist. we need to make them actually enforce these laws. and then we need to take it to court, and appeal, and keep resisting. don't do the dirty work for the far right. don't PRE-obey fascist laws.

i view a lot of these "omg look what identity the government is banning now!" posts as a kind of pre-obedience. and what's really upsetting is what these posts can and will do to LGBTQ+ youth.

LGBTQ+ youth suicidality is already 4x the average (source) and LGBTQ+ mental health outcomes are worse when shitty legislation is in the news circuit/being passed (source). i worry about trans youth specifically when terrifying-sounding misinformation is spread. how are you supposed to resist and survive if everyone around you is doomsday'ing? how do you even know resistance is possible when the information you're getting is 1) incorrect and 2) the most frightening version of potential events possible?

we NEED to be actually informed on these matters, and we need to share information responsibly. it's truly and honestly a matter of life and death.

and if you're a young LGBTQ+ person: we need you to live. we need you to survive this appalling, hateful presidential term and every other to come. we need you to believe in a better world and build that world with us. we need you.

(here is a list of LGBTQ-friendly crisis lines that do not work with the police. be safe and let's take care of each other!)

[harmony867]

Not many people discuss Harry character development when it comes to his and Hermione relationship. What I mean is how he treats her when Ron and Hermione are arguing.

In the third book, there is the infamous firebolt incident. This is where people claim that ‘Harry ignored Hermione for months.’ The scene in question.

���There’s nothing wrong with it!” said Harry, his voice shaking slightly. “Honestly, Professor —”

“You can’t know that, Potter,” said Professor McGonagall, quite kindly, “not until you’ve flown it, at any rate, and I’m afraid that is out of the question until we are certain that it has not been tampered with. I shall keep you informed.”

Professor McGonagall turned on her heel and carried the Firebolt out of the portrait hole, which closed behind her. Harry stood staring after her, the tin of High-Finish Polish still clutched in his hands. Ron, however, rounded on Hermione.

“What did you go running to McGonagall for?”

Hermione threw her book aside. She was still pink in the face, but stood up and faced Ron defiantly.

Ron's reaction was a lot stronger than Harry's and obviously colored the whole thing. Harry would probably be angry without Ron there but there’s a contrast between their reactions.

(PoA12): Harry knew that Hermione had meant well, but that didn’t stop him from being angry with her. He had been the owner of the best broom in the world for a few short hours, and now, because of her interference, he didn’t know whether he would ever see it again. [...] Ron was furious with Hermione too. As far as he was concerned, the stripping-down of a brand-new Firebolt was nothing less than criminal damage.

This reaction is literally the first thing we’re told about Harry’s feelings regarding the incident. Harry is obviously disappointed and annoyed by Hermione’s “interference,” but also immediately acknowledges Hermione “meant well.” (I think we have to pause and realize that this is a rather measured reaction from a 13-year-old boy who had just received the most amazing gift and had it taken away from him.) In contrast, Ron was "furious" and viewed Hermione’s intervention as tantamount to encouraging a criminal act.

And at least at the beginning, it is Hermione who places distance between her and the boys:

‘Hermione, who remained convinced that she had acted for the best, started avoiding the common room. Harry and Ron supposed she had taken refuge in the library and didn’t try to persuade her to come back.’

This is what they “supposed.” They didn’t even know where she went. So, initially, we can at best fault Harry for not deliberately seeking out a girl who was actively avoiding them. (Though, the phrasing "taken refuge" suggests that had she stayed, something bad would have occurred. As the only person we see attacking her during this entire time is Ron—never Harry—we have to assume that's what she's avoiding.)

Meanwhile, we see Ron and Hermione get into arguments when they do encounter each other (e.g., over Lupin). And we see Hermione clearly feeling uncomfortable and “rushing past with her face averted” when Harry tries to bring up the broom with McGonagall. Again, we never see Harry show anger or annoyance toward Hermione. We never have Harry actively feeling like he should avoid her or ignore her or show her the silent treatment or ANYTHING. It's never stated, unlike many other times in the books when it's explicitly stated that Harry avoids someone.

And Harry becomes exceptionally busy at this time. Quidditch practice now happens five days per week, and he has anti-dementor classes with Lupin, so Harry notes that during this period he had ‘only one night per week’ to do his homework. It's not like it seems he had a lot of time to even casually encounter Hermione, who was also so wrapped up in her own schedule of taking a ridiculous number of classes.

(Note that the only scene where we see Harry having a reaction about Hermione during this time is when he's distracted writing an essay on his one night he has to do homework and can't really focus on why Hermione's schedule might be weird when Ron mentions it. He doesn't express anger or annoyance at talking about her or tell Ron, he doesn't care; he just is distracted by other things and is unable to think further about her schedule at that moment.)

After the Firebolt was returned on February 3rd, Harry immediately tells Ron that they should go make up with Hermione. It's almost like he had been feeling bad about it, but wasn't going to go against Ron (who, as we saw, was much less understanding about it). Look at literally the first thing out of Harry’s mouth:

[Ron said,] “She gave it to you? Excellent! Listen, can I still have a go on it? Tomorrow?”

“Yeah... anything... ,” said Harry, his heart lighter than it had been in a month. “You know what—we should make up with Hermione… She was only trying to help...”

Harry just got his prized possession back, and Ron's reaction is about whether he can ride it. But Harry doesn't seem to care about that now: note the ellipses, as if he's distracted and not really thinking about what Ron's saying. Instead, we know his "heart" has become "lighter than it had been in a month." Why his heart? Because he's been estranged from Hermione, and the very first thing he wants to do is make up with her.

He appears to miss her, and there's no hint that he's still angry with her. That contrasts with other places in the books where we know Harry holds a grudge for some time and will have little bursts of anger periodically well up inside him, as when he's estranged from Ron in GoF (he literally wanted Ron to throw a punch so he could fight him) and again in DH; none of that is described here toward Hermione after the initial reaction when McGonagall confiscates the Firebolt.

And Harry's immediately noticing how tired she looks, suggesting that she might ease up on her workload a bit. Overall, his attitude is far from someone who wants to “ignore” her—he seems legitimately concerned about her:

“How are you getting through all this stuff?” Harry asked her.

“Oh, well — you know — working hard,” said Hermione. Close-up, Harry saw that she looked almost as tired as Lupin.

“Why don’t you just drop a couple of subjects?” Harry asked, watching her lifting books as she searched for her rune dictionary.

“I couldn’t do that!” said Hermione, looking scandalized.

During the period of their estrangement, on that one night when Ron brings up Hermione's schedule, we also see noted in the passage that Hermione's been stressed out and isolating herself surrounded by books. Although the text doesn't explicitly say that Harry noticed this, it's explicitly framed around him: he's struggling to complete his homework in one night per week, but "Even so, he wasn't showing the strain nearly as much as Hermione." The circumstantial evidence thus suggests he was noticing and at least somewhat worrying about her (or at least thinking about her), which gets confirmed in the way he approaches her here and offers some advice.

Unfortunately, as Harry and Hermione are just beginning to have a nice conversation about Hermione’s interest in Arithmancy, Ron bursts in and claims Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers. Ron then goes into full-blown ostracization mode with Hermione again, but Harry keeps trying to keep the communication going with her (PoA13):

Personally, Harry was sure that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers, and when he tried to point out to Hermione that the evidence all pointed that way, she lost her temper with Harry too.

“Okay, side with Ron, I knew you would!” she said shrilly. “First the Firebolt, now Scabbers, everything’s my fault, isn’t it! Just leave me alone, Harry, I’ve got a lot of work to do!”

Harry’s clearly trying. He repeatedly approaches her and keeps attempting to bring her back into his circle. After the next Quidditch match, he breaks away in the middle of his own celebration party to check in with her:

“Did you even come to the match?” he asked her.

“Of course I did,” said Hermione in a strangely high-pitched voice, not looking up. “And I’m very glad we won, and I think you did really well, but I need to read this by Monday.”

“Come on, Hermione, come and have some food,” Harry said, looking over at Ron and wondering whether he was in a good enough mood to bury the hatchet.

“I can’t, Harry. I’ve still got four hundred and twenty-two pages to read!” said Hermione, now sounding slightly hysterical. “Anyway...” She glanced over at Ron too. “He doesn’t want me to join in.”

Hermione would never miss one of Harry’s Quidditch matches, of course. But she’s feeling uncomfortable and continuing to distance herself, even though she knows this is about Ron now, not Harry. But Harry takes the initiative and tries to break down the barriers, yet again.

And when Ron repeatedly upsets her, Harry clearly wants to do something to help her, but isn't quite sure what—and also doesn't want to cross Ron. But Ron can't stand to see Harry and Hermione be friendly: he chooses this moment to speak up about Scabbers again, resulting in Hermione fleeing.

Hermione burst into tears. Before Harry could say or do anything, she tucked the enormous book under her arm, and, still sobbing, ran toward the staircase to the girls’ dormitories and out of sight.

“Can’t you give her a break?” Harry asked Ron quietly.

Ron keeps this up apparently for a couple months after the Firebolt is returned. We see Harry repeatedly approaching her with olive branches, but she's upset with Ron, and Harry seems kind of stuck. At this sort of age, it's natural to continue to segregate friendships by sex, so even though he wants to make up with Hermione, while Ron is ostracizing her, Harry doesn't do more. They both finally realize how poorly they’ve acted when Hagrid has a conversation with him, and ultimately they make up around Easter (which fell on April 3rd, so after about two months).

And when Hagrid does bring it up—well, let’s look at the contrasting reactions between the two boys (PoA14):

“She’s in a righ’ state, that’s what. She’s bin comin’ down ter visit me a lot since Chris’mas. Bin feelin’ lonely. Firs’ yeh weren’ talking to her because o’ the Firebolt, now yer not talkin’ to her because her cat —”

“— ate Scabbers!” Ron interjected angrily.

“Because her cat acted like all cats do,” Hagrid continued doggedly. “She’s cried a fair few times, yeh know. Goin’ through a rough time at the moment. Bitten off more’n she can chew, if yeh ask me, all the work she’s tryin’ ter do. Still found time ter help me with Buckbeak’s case, mind. . . . She’s found some really good stuff fer me . . . reckon he’ll stand a good chance now. . . .”

“Hagrid, we should’ve helped as well — sorry —” Harry began awkwardly.

“I’m not blamin’ yeh!” said Hagrid, waving Harry’s apology aside. “Gawd knows yeh’ve had enough ter be gettin’ on with. I’ve seen yeh practicin’ Quidditch ev’ry hour o’ the day an’ night — but I gotta tell yeh, I thought you two’d value yer friend more’n broomsticks or rats. Tha’s all.”

Harry and Ron exchanged uncomfortable looks.

“Really upset, she was, when Black nearly stabbed yeh, Ron. She’s got her heart in the right place, Hermione has, an’ you two not talkin’ to her —”

“If she’d just get rid of that cat, I’d speak to her again!” Ron said angrily. “But she’s still sticking up for it! It’s a maniac, and she won’t hear a word against it!”

Look closely at what’s going on here. Hagrid’s framing this as how both boys supposedly aren’t talking to her, but it’s clear that only one of them (Ron) is angry, while the other (Harry) is apologetic. And when Harry does try to apologize, Hagrid waves it away, excusing Harry with his Quidditch practices. I think Hagrid’s probably also sensitive to what’s really going on here: it’s not Harry who is ostracizing Hermione—it’s Ron, specifically. Hagrid may even have seen Harry trying to be conciliatory with Hermione, or perhaps she even told him. Regardless, Hagrid’s focus here is clear, and it’s not about Harry. While Harry could have done more, Hagrid’s trying to mend stuff with Ron and Hermione, as he likely sees that both of them are distancing from each other (and Hermione’s driving Harry out in the middle).

Note that the real cause of this all is established yet again when they do make up. Ron offers to help with Buckbeak’s appeal, Hermione apologizes about Scabbers, and then all is well again. If any of this were about Harry’s anger anymore, there would need to be a reconciliation with Hermione too, but this was clearly never much about Harry. They had made up months before, even if Hermione kept pushing him away (out of her anger with Ron and her anger at Harry for “siding” with him).

The distance appears mostly created by her and Ron. So we might (and should) fault Harry for not being more proactive in making up with her earlier, but there’s not really any evidence Harry is “ignoring” or actively shunning her, even in PoA. He and Hermione are both incredibly busy during this time too, and the moment the Firebolt is returned, he immediately queries Ron about making up with her.

Given gender dynamics in friendships at this age, it’s very understandable for a temporary break like this to happen, particularly given Hermione and Ron’s strong personalities.

We can compare this to Harry reacts when he’s older after the events of GoF and OOTP and has clearly matured more. When Ron and Hermione start fighting against in HBP. To jog your memory, Ron finds out that two years ago that Hermione allegedly kissed viktor krum from Ginny and starts giving Hermione the silent treatment. He starts dating lavender in retaliation for Hermione kissing a boy that asked her out two years ago while she was single.

HBP14: Harry catches a glimpse of Hermione (as Ron is snogging Lavender for the first time) and immediately goes after her to check on her abandoning quidditch celebrations.

Harry turned away from Ron, who did not look like surfacing soon, just in time to see the portrait hole closing. With a sinking feeling he thought he saw a mane of bushy brown hair whipping out of sight.

He darted forwards, sidestepped Romilda Vane again, and pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady. The corridor outside seemed to be deserted.

‘Hermione?’

He found her in the first unlocked classroom he tried. She was sitting on the teacher’s desk, alone except for a small ring of twittering yellow birds circling her head, which she had clearly just conjured out of midair. Harry could not help admiring her spellwork at a time like this.

HBP15: Unlike in PoA when Ron and Hermione are fighting, in HBP Harry gets away from Ron while Ron is “busy” to regularly spend time with Hermione. (Also it shows that the people who say that Harry doesn’t like spending time with Hermione is false, he chooses to spend time with her as he does multiple times across the books)

Hermione’s timetable was so full that Harry could only talk to her properly in the evenings, when Ron was in any case so tightly wrapped around Lavender that he did not notice what Harry was doing. Hermione refused to sit in the common room while Ron was there, so Harry generally joined her in the library, which meant that their conversations were held in whispers.

HBP15: Harry runs after Hermione and tries to help when she’s crying after Ron does a cruel impression of her in class

Hermione laughed unkindly at Ron’s disastrous first attempt, during which he somehow managed to give himself a spectacular handlebar moustache; Ron retaliated by doing a cruel but accurate impression of Hermione jumping up and down in her seat every time Professor McGonagall asked a question, which Lavender and Parvati found deeply amusing and which reduced Hermione to the verge of tears again. She raced out of the classroom on the bell, leaving half her things behind; Harry, deciding that her need was greater than Ron’s , scooped up her remaining possessions and followed her.

We see here that Harry prioritises Hermione, deciding that ‘her needs were greater than Ron.’ He spends time with her and comforts her.

Harry, again more assertively than in PoA, actively calls out Ron for being unkind to Hermione and immediately goes to comfort her.

A long way along the table, Hermione was sitting alone, playing with her stew. Harry noticed Ron looking at her furtively.

‘You could say sorry,’ suggested Harry bluntly.

‘What, and get attacked by another flock of canaries?’ muttered Ron.

‘What did you have to imitate her for?’

‘She laughed at my moustache!’

‘So did I, it was the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen.’

We see that now Harry is way more defensive in defiending Hermione, providing way more support while in PoA he was more passive, being apologetic and reprimanding Ron but not as aggressively while now he defends Hermione for laughing ‘unkindly’ at Ron’s stupid moustache. This shows his character development, from passively defending Hermione to actively defending her, growing past the maturity he had as a thirteen year old boy.

[fernsnailz]

FEB 2025 SHOP INFORMATION/FAQ

i've been getting a lot of questions about the next plans for my shop recently, so i'm gonna go ahead and answer a lot of them here as to update everyone. yay

edit: putting this shit under a readmore. shoulda done that in the first place lmfao 💀💥

WHEN IS YOUR SHOP REOPENING? i don't know the exact date, but i'm gonna try to reopen late February or early March. no promises though, 2025 has been kinda hard on me so far and i might have to push it back.

WILL YOU BE SELLING PHYSICAL COPIES OF BORN TO FAIL? yeah. they'll be on pre-order again. i'll have some b-grades available at a discount too.

ARE YOUR OTHER KEYCHAINS/STANDEES/PREVIOUS THINGS YOU HAD IN YOUR SHOP RETURNING? yes, i haven't retired anything. however, some things will be on pre-order again and other items may be pretty low stock. the band standees in particular are REALLY low, i think i only have one team dark one left.

WILL YOU BE SHIPPING TO MORE COUNTRIES BESIDES JUST THE US AND CANADA? no. i'm really sorry, i know this is something a lot of people want but i cannot expand shipping to more countries right now. i keep shipping limited to the US and Canada to keep the scale of my shop manageable, because my shop is technically a side gig i do on top of freelance storyboard work. additionally, i quite literally cannot offer international shipping to most countries through bigcartel (the service where i host my shop) without having to jump through a million hoops to collect and remit a number of different taxes + tariffs and comply with every country's requirements for international commerce.

the EU and UK are particularly difficult to ship to right now due to the EU's new GPSR (general product safety regulations) and the UK's VAT (value added tax) (which i would be responsible for collecting and remitting since i run an e-commerce site located out of the UK). the short explanation is that even though these are the two main locations people request i expand shipping to, i literally cannot feasibly ship to the EU or UK through my current shop without facing huge legal and tax obligations.

the best way for me to expand international shipping would be to sell stuff through a different shop hosting service that either does the complicated stuff for the seller or places tariff and tax responsibilities on the buyer, but please know that i honestly just do not have the ability or time to do that right now. i'm really sorry again, but i'm not going to be offering shipping to more countries right now.

ARE YOU GONNA HAVE NEW ITEMS? yes. i already have a few things i designed for my last convention that i have yet to sell on my shop, like some bluey and mouthwashing charms.

there's also a bunch of new robot related things i really want to design (transformers stuff, nge things, misc. other robot stuff), but i haven't finished them. this is the main reason why my shop isn't opening for at least another few weeks - i haven't had time to design my self-indulgent robot merch lol

HEY IS THE TARIFF WAR THAT THE US IS WAGING ON CANADA MEXICO AND CHINA GONNA AFFECT YOUR SHOP? yeahhhhhh probably. for those who don't know: i am based in the US, and our stupid idiot shit for brains country recently placed some absolutely insane tariffs on imports from Canada, Mexico, and China. this led to all three of those countries implementing their own tariffs on US imports and a "trade battle" breaking out.

the short rundown is that the US' tariffs on Canada and Mexico were put on hold for 30 days, but if this battle continues after that then it will affect anyone in Canada who orders from me. i'll likely still be able to offer shipping to Canada, but if the tariff battle continues then Canadian customers at my shop will be responsible for paying any tariffs Canada imposes on US goods. and since the 10% tariff the US placed on China is still in effect, i might have to raise the prices of my keychains and standees a little bit since that's where i get those from.

ARE YOU GONNA BE TABLING AT ANOTHER CONVENTION ANYTIME SOON? the next convention i have lined up is Animazement (Raleigh NC) in May! i'll be tabling in the artist alley there. hopefully i'll be tabling at a few other events later in 2025, but we'll have to wait and see.

that's all for now! if i get more shop related questions beyond this, i'll probably add them to this post.

[startheskelaton]

Helloo! I absolutely love your art style and au’s but I have a question. Since Shin was born so different and the amount of pain he went through, was he often prescribed medications and went to the doctors, or did his family make do with what they could afford with such a big family. I’m sorry if you have explained this before, I’m still trying to remember all the characters introduced in your au and lore. But thank you for the amazing art and storytelling you show us!

No it’s okay I understand!!

He actually would be that kid who was constantly going to the doctor. I based it off of myself to be honest.

I wasn’t clinically ill as a child but I always found myself going to the doctors or hospitals. In first grade I was tested for ADHD, and would go to specialist who found out I was a…. Very sad child. When I was in second grade I was hospitalized for pneumonia, then a little after that I got an infection on the back of my thigh that needed stitches. Then in third grade they had me tested for dyslexia and that led to going to the hospital to see reading and learning disability specialist.

I feel like Shin definitely had many different problems that his family tried to help him through, definitely not understanding it as a kid but slowly realizing as he got older.

I also had a lot of experiences with medication. I got ADHD pills prescribed to me back in first grade… and boy was that a rough time. For a while it was just experimenting with different pills or dosages to see what would work on me. Soon enough in highschool I was on 90 milligrams of Concerta… not exactly healthy to be honest. However now as a 22 year old, I’m on 60 mil of Vivance with some anxiety medication to keep me chill.

I know for a fact it was just like that for Shin as well. Honestly I feel like his biggest concern was how people looked at him. He’s genuinely a very normal person and rather talented too! As he’s very good at learning new information on the fly. However that means nothing to most people when he’s constantly bleeding from the neck and struggling to breath properly. 

[dearlyd3parted]

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖: 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 | 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝙻𝚎𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

🕸️chapter index: chap 1 chap 2 chap 3 🕸️ this chapter contains smut! 🕸️ pet name usage: baby, babe, love, the usual ^_^

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 3: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 - 9.6k

Yesterday was difficult.

It was now Saturday, and you were pondering on the time you had with Mark the day before. It wasn’t anything special. Actually, the day itself wasn’t difficult at all. 

When you brought up Xiaojun at the start of the week, or better yet, the idea of dating, you weren’t expecting him to be so…reactive. Well, obviously you couldn’t be 100% sure that was the reason, but you weren’t stupid. It was the only new factor that could have caused this change in behavior. Mark stumbled on his words more often, his eyes a little wider and little more downturned in fear and worry, the alleged secret admirer that just appeared, and his writings in the webs. Mark had always been strange, but never in a way so unexplainable.

It seemed all you could think about the whole week is what any part of this could mean. Did it make him uncomfortable to learn this new information about you? Had he forgotten how to act around you? Or, is it what you hoped for? Was he affected?

It made you feel insane that you were thinking about it so heavily, like a schoolgirl with some kind of toxic limerence, trying to dissect the pieces in her favor. 

It didn’t help that yesterday had been so nurturing. Mark rarely has a drained social battery; that’s just not a common thing in his nature. He’d just rather spend alone time with you, and you were unfortunately aware of that. Unfortunately, because it made you that much more hyper aware of every small detail. That much more aware of every unconditional smile, every tug on your sleeve when he wanted you to follow, every laugh that echoed in your skull. And not to exclude his penetrating eyes as you tried to sleep on the train, but how could you when he was so close, his eyes never straying from anywhere but you. It was impossible not to burn under them.

Worst of all, that look. That god forsaken look that had you sliding down the wall of your apartment entrance the moment you entered your home. You had seen it before, it never got easier. There wasn’t a time you could recall where it didn’t make your hands sweaty and your heart thump aggressively in your chest. It just couldn’t have come at a worst time.

It was just unfair, honestly. For Mark to look at you like you created the sun and the stars given the events of the past week. It made you wonder if he would still look at you like that if he knew.

It wasn’t a crime to be in love, you knew that. Though it definitely felt like a crime to be in love with your best friend for years without end, never once saying a word. You had told yourself all this time that you didn’t want to burden him with the weight of what you felt on top of the burden of being a hero, and that had allowed all these years to pass. You had to ask yourself a lot more frequently now if that was really the case or only part of it. If Mark knew you loved him, he would know every action, every word that came from your being the past few years was laced with something else other than friendship. There was always the chance it would ruin those memories. That he would never look at you in the way you adored ever again.

Trying to figure out Mark Lee was exhausting. On top of that, figuring out yourself and dealing with self-doubt that you had never been one to struggle with, it had worn you.

After your face burned 5 shades less red, you pulled yourself up from the floor, dragging yourself to your bed and flopping down, sleep coming easy aside from the recurring images of Mark that were always just there. Distantly, you wished you never started this effort of trying to press his buttons. Things would have stayed the same, but they wouldn’t have been so frightening.

You drifted quickly to sleep, and when you woke up you found yourself still in that pool of bad emotions. Yunjin was out for the weekend, and the apartment felt unsettling being so quiet. If this was a normal circumstance, you’d probably find comfort in your best friend. However, you figured that would probably make you feel worse.

So, you sat on your fire escape, dangling your feet into the night. It felt less alone than being in your room for some reason, and it was a good place to pop in headphones and listen to whatever music decided to shuffle on. It was the best effort you could think of to try and stray away from a fact you knew was becoming irrefutable. All this love was too large to be contained anymore.

You were lightly jostled out your melancholic state when your phone started to buzz, and you pulled it out of your pocket of your hoodie the screen shined with the caller id “Mark ᓚ₍⑅^..^₎♡” under a picture of the both of you during your 7th grade spring formal. You sighed as your thumb went to slide to answer. Mark really was inescapable, but you couldn’t seem to get enough. “Hi, Mark.”

“I’ve been texting you! I already started my patrol, but as soon as I went out, I went to chase after a bike thief! He was pretty slippery to catch, but I got him! I don’t know whose bike this is though…” Mark rambled through the phone, a small smile on your face despite everything. “I’ll have to leave a note…Anyway, join me, yeah?”

You sighed, a few hours of going back and forth with Mark is probably the last thing you needed. However, you already admitted you can’t get enough. “Yeah, I’ll join you. Give me a second.”

Shuffling could be heard on Mark’s end, signifying he was up to some sort of shenanigans, as he quickly responded. “Alright! I’ll be waiting!”

You hung up the phone, looking out at the city one more time, before heading into your room. You sat at your desk chairs, letting your monitors light up as your computer powered on, and before you knew, you could hear the familiar ‘beep beep’ indicating that you had connected to the communications system. Your first sight was Mark standing in a pizza shop.

You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, finding it ridiculous that he had already gotten distracted “Got hungry?”

Mark perked up as he heard your voice. “Ah! You’re here! Yeah, I thought I’d swing by. Just waiting on mine now! The guy tried to give it to me for free again, but I slipped a 20 in his jar. You want some?”

You were adjusting the volume and screen on your monitor, going to answer him. “No, I’m okay-”

A gasp could be heard as you felt a cold and rough hand come up to your mouth. You could hear Mark asking what was wrong as your chair turned around, and suddenly you were surrounded by 3 men you had never seen, one of them clearly holding some kind of weapon. 

Your eyes went wide as you watched one of them hold a finger up to his mouth, and before your body or mind could react, there was a bag over your head. 

.   　˚　✭　*✦　.　‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ 　 ˚　.˚ ✭　.

Mark was feeling a lot better.

He had a nice day with his crush of years the day prior, and although he had lost a few battles this week, the war wasn’t over. He realized that now.

For the first time since the week started, he didn’t feel anxious or like his world was coming to an end. He was…calm. As calm as he could be as he started his patrol, unable to get a hold of you. He figured you were busy and would get back to him momentarily, and as he saw someone yelling after a man wearing all black with a stolen bike, he decided to get right to it.

That chase ended up taking him longer than he expected. He definitely had an experienced bike thief on his hands. After leaving a note on a bike whose owner was nowhere to be found at that point, his stomach growled a bit, so he swung himself to his favorite pizza parlor. Mark frequented there even in his full Spider-suit ever since he forgot he was wearing it once and waltzed right in. Now every time he goes, he has to bicker with the owner who never wants to let Mark pay. 

As he waited for his pizza, you finally answered. It didn’t take him long to notice that you sounded sadder than usual. While you switched from the phone call to the comms system, he figured that he should get to the bottom of whatever was causing you to be gloomy. 

And then, you stopped talking. 

One second you were talking to Mark, declining his offer of pizza, and after a short gasp, he couldn’t hear anything. 

He tried to call out to you and gave it a minute or two. Maybe you stepped away and would be back soon. That had to be it. However, after Mark started calling out again with no answer, a terrible yet familiar feeling set in the pit of his stomach. The one he got before most of his major fights that signified impending doom. This was worse, though, way worse. Mark had never gotten it with you.

His feet were moving before he could process it, running out of the pizza restaurant and jumping into the night. You were far, your apartment being a good 3 miles away. Mark figured if he hurried, he could reach it in 5 minutes. So, that’s what he did. He was still using that burdensome unassisted aim, and he was going at a speed that surely one mistake could cause him to get hurt. Mark didn’t care. He wasn’t even thinking about that. All he knew is that he needed to reach you as soon as possible.

Mark saw your apartment in the distance, his body going overdrive as he ran on the ledge of a building, throwing himself into his final few swings. As he approached, the pit in his stomach only made him more nauseous when his eyes landed on your window wide open. 

“Maybe she just wanted some air and left it open, maybe she just wanted some air,” Mark muttered to himself in a breathless state, as he landed on the wall, jumping onto your fire escape. He wasted no time in climbing in, the apartment deadly silent. 

“Y/n?” Mark called loudly, making his way room to room, finding that no one was there. He turned back to your room, his blood running a little colder. “Just call her…Just call her…” Mark murmured, pulling his phone out to dial you. 

Mark’s head turned when he heard your phone buzzing on the desk, walking up to pick it up. The sight confirmed to him that something was wrong. “Shit.” He whispered to himself, holding he phone tight in his hands.

Mark’s head flew up as a signal struggled to connect your monitor, and suddenly he was met with a face he had never seen before. A man with a scar above his eye.

“Spiderman…I see you’ve made it.”

Mark leaned on the desk, staring at the monitor trying to get a better look at the man. “Who the hell are you?”

The man chuckled, his eyes dark as he stared at Mark. “Not important. All you need to know is that I have your little girlfriend.”

Mark’s heart couldn’t have sunk further, his body ran cold as his fists clenched. This douchebag was talking about you. He shuddered before he shot up, as if ready to bolt out. “Wh…Where is she?”

“She’s fine, don’t worry. All I need from you is the drive that gets me into junk drawer. I know you have one.”

The eyes on Mark’s mask narrowed. “Junk drawer? What do you need with that?”

The man seemed irritated, exhaling hard as he retorted. “Doesn’t matter to you. Just bring it to me and I’ll give you the girl. I won’t give you long.”

Mark would’ve flung out the window there and then, but then it hit him. “Where do I find you? Where are you?” He demanded with frustration.

“You’re a smart kid. I’m sure you can figure it out. We’ll be here…”

The man turned the camera and briefly, it flashed to you, sat in a chair before the connection cut, and Mark was left alone. 

“Damnit!” He yelled as he sat down, already working to trace the origin of the call. Mark was working on autopilot, his heart racing as the seriousness of the situation set in.

How could this happen? Mark was just talking to you mere minutes ago. You were right, he hadn't been careful enough with you. Someone had connected you to him, and now you were gone. With a lunatic who wanted the entrance to junk drawer, at that. He worked diligently until he reached coordinates, and he was already flung out the window.

So many thoughts ran in his fear-stricken mind. Does he call for help? How much time did he have? Were you really alright? What does that idiot want with junk drawer? 

He only knew one answer, he needed to make sure you were safe above all else.

.   　˚　✭　*✦　.　‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ 　 ˚　.˚ ✭　.

The warehouse you were in was empty. Well, mostly empty. There were parts and scrap metals on the floor with tables scattered around, all of which with some weird unconventional weapon on top of them. There was only one table that didn’t have an odd invention on it, it held a plethora of monitors, and a chair for the man that you assumed was behind all of this.

You quickly realized this man was deranged in the most idiotic way. Your head was in a bag, a piece of tape over your mouth as you were rushed to the warehouse like some kind of movie kidnapping. You weren't moved in a car or by foot, someone had carried you with what sounded like some type of jet technology that sounded all sorts of unsafe. That way, you made it fast to the damp warehouse on the outer side of town.

The guy, who was addressed as Scar by his men on the radio, was quick to brag to you about his maniacal plan. He told you that he once worked for Tony Stark, and Tony got “petty” and fired him. He showed off his various “inventions” that he found pride in creating all on his lonesome. You sat there with your hands tied behind your back, not saying much in order to tread lightly around someone who was clearly not thinking clearly.

 As you heard him interact with Mark and his own lackeys, looking around at weapons that the more you looked at them didn’t look up to any legal standards, you started to figure him out.

“You’re making a mistake.” You said quietly to scar, who turned to look at you with a smirk. “They’re already at junk drawer, aren’t they?”

He scoffed, a cocky smile on his face. “You're smarter than your boyfriend.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath at the word boyfriend, but feeling it wasn’t an appropriate time to correct him. “Your machinery doesn’t look safe, junk drawer is protected for a reason. There’s tech in there that could be dangerous if used wrong. And…if Stark Industries fired you, it must have been for a reason. A man like Tony doesn’t do things out of pettiness.”

Scar’s expression grew a little more serious before he huffed and turned around to look away from you. “What are you, a fan of the avengers or some shit?” 

You pursed your lips, fan was an understatement. “Maybe. Doesn’t matter. Some of these weapons don’t look up to regulation. If these were sold…it…it’s just a mistake.”

Scar was visibly more irritated now. “Shut up before I put the tape on your mouth again. I know what I’m doing.”

You highly doubted he did, the whole stunt a clear act of vendetta. You just hoped Mark would realize that soon as well. Afterall, a villain with no plan is more unpredictable than one who does have one.

Your foot tapped anxiously as you kept trying to budge at the ropes on your hands. It was just a waiting game for Mark to show up, all while his men were already making plans to enter junk drawer when it was left vulnerable. The wait didn’t last long, as it turned out Mark found the coordinates faster than you expected when you both heard a thud land on the roof. 

Scar stood up, standing behind your chair as he turned you to face the entrance, and the situation was only becoming more and more tense. “He’s too early.” 

Seconds later, Mark was stumbling in, and Scar was prepared with an outstretched hand, hooked onto some kind of makeshift ray, a copy of some of Stark Industries tech, as a message to stay back

There was a silence as Mark assessed the situation, and you could tell he was acting frantically. In the silence, your mouth was open before you could think it through. “You have to go to junk drawer, there's already people over there! He’s bluffing!” You blurted out, Scar yelling ‘Shut up!’ as soon as you said it. 

Mark stood with a firm stance, his face unreadable under the mask, slowly he started to inch forward. “I have the drive.” Mark announced, seemingly completely ignoring what you had said. “You have to let her go.”

Scar only smiled, pulling the chair back with you in it. His hand snaked around your neck. You gulped as you stared at Mark with a growing expression of worry. More for the heist that was about to take place and less for yourself. “Good. Keep walking, slow and steady, until I tell you to stop.”

Mark was beside himself, this whole thing had felt like a fever dream to him up until then. Up until he saw this random guy with his hand around your neck. Touching you. “Okay! Okay! Just…don’t do anything.” Mark blurted through his teeth., trying to seem assertive but ultimately sounding what he was, horrified. 

Mark kept inching closer as Scar moved his hand away from your neck to the back of your chair. “Just keep walking, slowly.” Scar ordered.

So, he did. He inched closer and closer, and you couldn’t believe he was entertaining this. “…just drop it and go.” You pleaded, your voice desperate and worried as he kept coming closer. Mark ignored you again, it was clear he was disregarding what you were saying despite the severity of the situation.

You could feel Scar’s satisfied smile with each second that passed. It was never about you at all, it was always about wasting time. Yet, Mark couldn’t seem to understand that. “Keep walking, a little further.” Mark obeyed, walking closer and closer, the drive clenched in his hands.  

Suddenly, scar spoke out. “Stop. You’re close enough.” Scar demanded when Mark was only a few feet away. “Put the drive on the floor, and back away.”

Mark did just that, scrambling back faster than he came. The air was thick as Scar stepped out from behind you, walking to pick up the drive and returning back to the chair. 

Mark watched in a nervous silence as the ropes on your chair were undone. Yet once you were free, his hands were on your shoulders, not letting you move. You looked back to Scar, a lump in your throat, and to Mark with a heavy look.

“I did it,” Mark said shakily, getting frustrated, “so let her go.” 

Scar was silent, listening to the feedback on the radio behind him, as if deciding what to do. He kept a tight hold on you, as he pulled the chair back with you in it, the legs scraping making an unbearable sound. Not as unbearable as getting pulled farther and farther away from Mark, though, wanting this whole thing to be over already.

As you and Scar reached closer to his communication systems, you could hear the discourse. The men on the other side are still going back and forth with each other, one of them asking ‘how much time?’ and something in your stomach told you this wouldn’t be the end of it. You could hear him behind you, doing something, reaching for something, but your eyes wouldn’t leave Mark. 

Finally Scar let go of your shoulders, the freedom catching you off guard. “Stand up, go to him slowly.

You did just that, the adrenaline barely keeping you up on your own two feet as you put one foot in front of the other. You didn’t know what slow meant, what was acceptable or unacceptable, but you did know that if you didn’t get to Mark soon, you wouldn’t reach him at all. In a moment, your heart skipped a beat, a chill down your spine as you decided to break into a full sprint.

Your efforts were in vain, and as you had expected, that God awful jet sound came on, and a gangly cold arm snaked around you, shooting you in the air.

You could barely process your own scream as you clung onto it for life, debris falling over your face as you were shot out of the warehouse ceiling. When you found it in you to open your eyes and look at Scar, he wore a stressed look.

“Let’s go for a little walk.”

.   　˚　✭　*✦　.　‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ 　 ˚　.˚ ✭　.

Ever since Mark knew you, you always seemed to talk with your face. Therefore, it was heart wrenching when he saw you communicating something he had never seen on the face he adored, genuine dread and fear.

That is what he was met with as he walked into the warehouse, trying to comply with this asshole’s demands so he could get you out of here, preferably kick his ass, and make sure nothing like this ever happened again due to his carelessness. Yet, there you were, telling him to leave. To go protect junk drawer, as if that was more important than you.

As he placed the drive down on the floor, He could care less what the implications were if junk drawer was getting broken into at that very moment. All Mark knew is that it was making his blood boil to see the man touching you, making you sweat in anxiety under his calloused hands. He knew he had to put an end to it soon. 

Mark only briefly thought about the plan being used to waste his time. Under any other circumstance, he would be strategizing to get you out of harm's way and interject in the villainy taking place. The latter seemed to matter nothing to him, not when everything was at stake.

Mark’s breathing trembled a little in relief when he finally saw you inching towards him, still with those words on your face that said something was wrong. He pieced together what it was when you tried to sprint, and just like that, you were in the air. Without a single thought, he was swinging after you. 

Mark used every ounce of stamina and strength he had to chase after you. Those jets were strong and bulky, emitting some sort of beam of heat that he just knew he couldn’t get close to. His heartbeat only picked up, his pants heavy as he tried to think of how he could get close enough. The man was flying with you higher than the skyline, and if Mark wanted to reach you, he’d have to swing himself from with lots of momentum. 

Until, the jets started sputtering, a nasty smoke emitting from it as the man seemingly started to lose control. Perhaps it would’ve been a good thing, but he was carrying you. Mark didn’t care if he got burned, he started moving in closer. As he did, the man made a b-line higher and farther for a building under construction. 

Mark enhanced his sight, zooming in to watch as the man went in hot, the jetpack on its final stretch. 

Time was moving slow for Mark as he watched the jet contraption fail, sending you and the man landing on the construction site, followed by an explosion that rattled the structure as Scar’s invention gave in on itself. Mark wasn’t even looking as the guy tried to get away, fidgeting with some other gadgets he had on him, he could only see you terrified and knelt down on the flimsy wood panels of the structure, frantically looking around. He was so relieved, yet so shaken to see you were alright, knowing that it was seconds away from going wrong.

Mark’s been in life-or-death situations, fought villains and monsters of the ordinary person’s nightmares. He had never been as scared as he was in that moment, since he realized you were gone. Never had he felt chills run up the back of his spine so prickly and cold. Suddenly, it made sense what it was that had caused him to be a coward the whole week. Why he couldn't utter a three-letter phrase that came so easy to live but so hard to admit to you, especially when it could change everything.

He was scared to lose you.

3. 

Mark landed as softly as he could in front of you as to not jeopardize the likely unstable floors, kneeling in front of you as he grabbed your face that ran pale in fear. “Are you okay?! Are you hurt?!” He questioned breathlessly, his eyes roaming over every inch of you.

You nodded, your hands shaking as you went out to grab his wrists. “I... I’m fine, I told you he’s not trying to hurt me. He’s just buying time.”

Mark couldn’t buy that you were alright, not until he was one-hundred percent certain. “What’d he do to you? Was he in your house?”

You sighed shakily, your head shaking, “Mark, I said I’m fine. You need to get to junk drawer.”

Mark shook his head, looking around for any signs of Scar. “I don’t care, I’m not leaving you.” Mark asserted, his hands holding onto yours tight. “I’ve gotta get you away from here-”

“Mark, please listen. This guy’s crazy, if his weapons get on the market who knows-”

“Y/n please,” Mark cut you off, his head turning back to look at you. “No way in hell am I going anywhere when he’s out for you.”

“He’s not after me, please just listen-”

“You listen to me!” Mark said in frustration, his anger and horror and stress from the past hour bubbling up as he snapped at you, “I don’t care what they’re doing.”

“I only care about the girl that I’m in love with, and I’m not leaving you!"

Mark stared at you, a blank expression under his mask. He wasn’t able to stare for long, nor was he able to feel the effects of what had just blurted out of his mouth before his head whipped around, and aimed right at him was another weapon that looked like it couldn’t possibly be regulated. His body was moving before he could process it, and now he was just pissed off. 

Total peace wasn’t an option for Spiderman, but it was for Mark. Mark had found that in you, and for someone to take the one thing, the one person he had all to himself to comfort him, it made him ooze with rage. He dodged poorly taken shots, jumping and flipping from place to place as he avoided every hit, coming in with only one motive to make sure this guy couldn’t get near you again.

Mark’s mind and body moved on its own the closer he got, desperate to put an end to everything. When he came to his senses, it seemed he had won. A particularly effective web had Scar tied around a pole, unable to move. 

Mark stood in front of him, his chest going up and down as the haze in his mind allowed him to only think apprehend, apprehend, apprehend dimming down as the worst of it seemed to be over.

Scar’s condition seemed to be far worse, struggling against the webs, yelling out in a fit of rage as his vengeful eyes sat on Mark. 

“It’s over, just stop fighting, man.” Mark hissed, his fists clenched on his sides. 

Scar moved one of his hands that was hidden behind his back to the front. When Mark looked down, he noticed a little remote in them.

“I hope you don’t make it.”

Mark didn’t have time to be confused before a boom vertebrated behind him. His body twisted, running in a full sprint towards you and your falling figure.

It was quite ironic when you really thought about it. When he was first bitten by that spider, he often cursed the responsibility that came with his great powers, one’s he never explicitly asked to have. He spent a lot of his rookie years wondering why him. Why Mark Lee? As if he wasn’t odd enough, never fitting into most places. Now he just had to be the weird and awkward one and Spiderman. Some nights, he even wished he would wake up and he’d be normal again, never having to worry about his “duties” ever again. 

Now, here he was. Soaring into the night to reach your outstretched hand, your fingertips moments away, praying to this once unwanted power of his to work in his favor for once and save you. Someone who gave him something that he never has and never will beg to go away in his life. Someone who gave him love.

Once his hand clasped yours, he pulled you into his chest, grunting as he shot a web just in time, to deflect the fall. The both of you were already too close to the ground, and the best landing he could stick was flipping through the air, breaking the fall with his own body as he slid to a stop in an empty lot. 

It was quiet for a long time as Mark gazed up into the sky, holding you tight in his arms. Only when he heard the sound of sirens and an alert inside his hud that Mr. Stark was on his way and alert of the situation did Mark’s eyes flicker back to life. Looking up to see the destruction of the construction site and holding you tighter, Mark let his head fall back, breathing a sigh of relief that it was over. You were safe.

His body ached, and his arms hesitantly untangled themselves and outstretched on the cold floor. Mark’s injuries were the last of his worries, his only concern was your wellbeing. He didn’t know if you had sustained any injuries from that whole thing, the only indication that you weren’t knocked out cold was your hands gripped firmly on his shoulders still, and the slight shake in your body.

“Y/n,” Mark said softly, “Come on. We’ve gotta get you to a hospital.”

When Mark tried to stand the both of you up, he was met with resistance, your body doing its best to push him to stay down. Mark hated not seeing your face, not knowing what you were feeling, so all he could think of doing was wrapping his arms around you again. Fearful? Shaken? Angry? Maybe it was a mix of all of those? God, he wanted to know so he could make it better so bad-

Oh. You lifted your head to look at Mark. You looked like you felt all of those, but one he wouldn’t have expected was the most prominent. 

Longing.

“Are you really in love with me?”

Mark’s heart sank for what must have been the millionth time that day, and he thought that couldn’t possibly be a healthy amount. He hardly remembered any of what he said during that whole ordeal, but as he was reminded of that one, it definitely sounded like him.

 He was cornered, completely and utterly cornered. Not only could he not run with you on top of him, but he also probably couldn’t run after that fall anyway. What he really couldn’t escape though, were those damn eyes that were big and curious and desperate for an answer. 

So, he just started talking. 

“Are you really asking me?”

If that wasn’t an answer enough by the way that his lip quivered as he stared at you, Mark’s hand moved to brush hair out of your face, looking at you like nothing else existed in that moment before he continued. “You know…I’ve nearly died a lot more than your average person.”

Mark laughed under his breath, talking quietly as he was still trying to recover from getting the wind knocked out of him. “Everytime it happens, I experience that life flashing before your eyes thing. It isn’t…what it seems. People make it sound like it's a slideshow of your best memories that just plays out. It’s not. It’s like…a dvd player, and you get to pick your favorite movie.”

“Everytime, I chose to see you.”

Mark smiled weakly, his eyes beaming with something he had never quite let you fully see before. “Maybe because you’re comforting, or because it feels like you’re all I’ve ever known, or maybe because I love you, but it’s always you. Sometimes, I look forward to that. Almost dying. Cause’ it means even if just for a second, you’re all I see. Though, it’s like that even when I'm fully conscious as well.”

Mark sighed, throwing his head back as he grabbed his face in disappointment. “Sorry, not making much sense, I think I hit my head too hard.” He admitted with a small giggle. “I thought…I’d made that much obvious. But I’ll say it again for the record, in case you didn’t notice.”

“I really, really, really love you.”

The eyes on his mask blinked in disbelief like he couldn’t believe he finally uttered the words. “You don’t have to say anything, and whatever you decide to do with that, I’ll accept it wholeheartedly. But honestly…I’m just glad you know.”

Mark couldn’t stop looking at you, a glossy film over your eyes. He always imagined what you would look at him like when he told you. In his wildest fantasies, you wore the widest smile on your face or made a completely disgusted look. He couldn’t have predicted this one, but…in a good way.

After a short stillness, your hands moved to pull the mask off his face, throwing it to the side as your hands shakily came to his cheeks. For what felt like ages, you couldn’t take your eyes off every part of his face, reading him like a map. Your thumbs were tracing over his cheeks, his jaw, the outer corner of his eyes, and Mark only stared at you wordlessly, your reaction becoming less and less predictable.

Mark definitely couldn’t predict your lips on his. Nor could he predict how soft and pillowy they were.

When you pulled away, a small prickle fell from the corner of your eye, and his hand was quick to reach up to wipe it away. As if any tear on your face was sacrilegious. They were happy tears, though, that was evident with your smile as you beamed at him, “You’re an idiot.”

Idiot was the last thing your tone of voice was saying to him, and soon he was smiling too, his hands running around your neck. “I guess I am.”

Mark can’t be blamed for leaning in for yet another kiss. Not when he was finally granted permission to do what he’s always wanted to. 

.   　˚　✭　*✦　.　‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ 　 ˚　.˚ ✭　.

1 month later

Having Spiderman as a boyfriend had its perks for sure, but sometimes there were things that you just had to deal with.

For example, it meant you would never be late to work or class ever again. If you had woken up late, you had your own public transportation system to throw you from place to place. The same thing could be said if you ever needed something from the grocery store or wanted some takeout, as Spiderman proved to be faster than any delivery service. Of course, there was the pride you felt at all the good deeds your boyfriend and longtime best friend had done. A compliment to him felt like a compliment for you. He had also gotten you a signed card from almost every avenger you could name. Although he had done that one for you long before he became your boyfriend, it’s just nice to list it off.

One of the downsides you could name though was definitely when he would knock at your window covered in cuts, bruises, scrapes, sometimes having broken bones, and a hurt ego. However, he had done that long before he was your boyfriend, too.

Tonight, as you laid down enjoying some rest and a movie after a long day, you knew that would be the case when there was a knock at your window, and a quick turn of your head showed you Spiderman pawing at the glass. “Babe? Let me in, yeah?”

You scurried up, knowing by the sound of his wince that something had happened as you quickly popped open the window. As you took a step back, a tattered Mark Lee entered the room, pulling off his mask and revealing a cut that had even made it up to his lip. However, he didn’t seem to be in excruciating pain as he smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder. “Hi, Y/n. I may have had a little accident.”

You sighed, a small smile on your face as your hands came up to rub his back, finding that he winced a little as you went to touch it. “Mm..I see. What happened now?”

Mark only nuzzled further starting his rant. “Well, long story short, I went to go find Mr. Stark and he was in the midst of hashing it out with this weird like…metal man. I was like, ‘Mr. Stark, need some help!?’ and he was like, ‘Just go home kid!’ but I didn’t really listen and kept trailing behind him. So, ended up getting dragged into it.”

You pushed him away and only held onto his arms as you looked up at him. “Are you serious?” You asked with concern, looking down to see he did have quite a few cuts.

Mark nodded with a smug smile, leaning in to plant a long kiss on your forehead. “Mm…yeah. Love you.” He mumbled, sounding way too normal about the whole thing.

A month wasn’t long enough for you to be used to Mark’s level of affection, but really you wondered if any amount of passing time would ever make your heart pound less in your chest. “Yeah, I love you too. But…we gotta clean these up. Go wait by the sink, yeah? I’ll get the first aid kit.”

Mark placed another kiss near your eye, causing you to flutter it shut. “Yes, Ma’am.” He replied, trodding his way to your bathroom as you scrumaged around your room to find the first aid kit you learned to keep on hand at all times.

Once you found it, you made your way into the bathroom. Mark was leaning against the counter, his suit loosened up as he inched his way out of the torso area. Placing down the first aid kit, you went to help him out, and he thanked you as his arms were finally free.

He looked down at himself, and so did you, he really was littered with small gashes sporadically throughout. Not to mention, it was criminal that he looked so good in such a state. “Mark…” you said softly, opening the first aid kit and getting straight to work. “You really have to listen to Tony when he tells you to do things.”

Mark winced as you wiped the first one with alcohol, his eyes fluttering shut. “Not my fault that weirdo started swinging at me!”

You smiled to yourself, his antics always being amusing to you. “Can’t believe you’re the Spiderman and you can’t take a little alcohol.”

Mark chuckled as he leaned one of his arms on the sink counter, the other resting at your hip. “Alcohol stings! You don’t have to clean them, you know. They’ll be gone in a few hours.”

You stopped dabbing, having barely placed your first bandaid down, a smile on your face. “Yet you always come so I can treat you.”

He smiled, pretending to pout as he pushed around strands of hair on your face. “Maybe I just wanna see you. Ever thought of that?”

Your cheeks went warm as you tried to continue what you were doing. “I figured that out a while ago.”

Mark just watched you, something he could do shamelessly now that he was dating you, and he knew that at least you knew a fraction of how much he loved you. He wasn’t sure you knew entirely, though. “Can I kiss you, please?” He asked in a pleading tone, his big eyes boring ingo you as both his hands moved to your hips. “You really don’t have to clean those. And, it’ll make me feel better.”

You sighed, putting down your cotton balls and bandages and meeting his gaze. “You’re so needy, you know that? What about the cut on your lip?”

Mark pulled you closer, wanting you pressed flush against him. “This thing?” He inquired by pointing at it, pressing his lips together to prove a point. “Barely even hurts.”

You giggled, and Mark felt his heart flutter knowing he caused it. He always did. “I guess I’ll allow it then.” You teased.

Mark tilted his head, leaning in closer to you as you stared at his lips. “I was gonna do it anyway.”

You swear you will never get sick of this feeling, the way that he handled you so carefully, his every move filled with adoration. Your first few kisses at the start of the relationship were slow and steady, testing out the water seeing how far they could go. Neither of you really had any experience before then, either being too awkward to have a first kiss or refusing to have it with anyone but each other and never knowing that fact.

However, ever since you started, it seemed you couldn’t stop. Small and sweet kisses, ones where you could feel his smile on your lips or whisper a quick ‘I love you’ turned into deeper and more passionate ones that…well…tended to end the same.

The point being, you couldn’t get enough of each other. Not after waiting all that time. So it went without saying that lately every kiss ended in Mark wanting to devour you. It was no different for this one.

It started off tame until it wasn’t, now Mark was passing his tongue across your lips, trying desperately to get inside, and squeezing your hips while he rubbed circles into it. Your hands rested on his shoulders, but honestly if he wasn’t so cut up they’d probably be running all over his torso.

Getting so heated while he was still in his spider suit was definitely new though, not that you were complaining when again, he looked way too good for someone who was supposed to be injured.

This kiss deepened, and you seemed to only want to press further into him. Mark’s hands got more explorative, and you found yourself opening your mouth even more, trying to taste every bit of him. It kept going until your hands at his neck started moving with a mind of their own, one of them reaching up to his nape and pulling on some of his hair.

For some reason, the small act drove Mark insane, and he detached his mouth from yours as a rather pathetic moan left his lips, and he looked at you with passionate eyes, his face burning red as he reached up one of his hands to bury it in. “Sorry, sorry.”

You were panting a little, trying to find your breath again after that as you stared at him with a soft smile. “It's okay.” You said softly to him.

You were hoping to continue, until you noticed something pressed firm against you, and you realized why Mark’s ears had gone so red. As you looked down, confirming a bulge pressed right into you, you swear you could hear Mark turn ten shades darker. You just smiled, brushing hair out of his face so you could see him better. “That excited already?”

Mark’s throat bobbed as he swallowed and looked at you. When you talked to him like that in the way he loved, especially during moments like this, it just wasn’t good for his sanity. “How can I not be? You’re too good at this.”

You laughed a little both of your hands on his face as you stared at him with parted lips. ”You want me to help?”

Mark’s face was shades of pink and red all over before he answered you, his voice a little shaky. “Help how?”

His heart almost slammed out of his chest as you knelt down, and it took everything in him to not start whining. “Love,” Mark muttered, his hands going down to your face, “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” You answered back, tilting your head a bit as you looked up at him, your eyes shining with a desire in them. “You don’t want me to?”

Mark didn’t know whether to nod or shake his head, so instead he just waved his hands. “No! Yeah! I mean, I want to. I just…I don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

You smiled at him with your hands on his thighs and it felt like they were burning prints into him. “I wanna do this, Mark, so don’t worry.”

Before he could process it, his hands were gripping onto dear life on the counter behind him, and you were tugging at his suit, pulling it down to find his boxers. Mark could hardly contain himself as your hands played with the waistband. “I can take these off?”

All he could do was nod, watching as you pulled them off of him, excruciatingly slow, and feeling the heat creep up heavy on his neck once they were.

The both of you had gotten awfully used to each other in the past month. You really couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. This hadn’t happened, however, and he felt so vulnerable as you just stared at him, already leaking at the tip as you wrapped your hands around.

“I’ll try my best.” You said, and Mark shouldn’t have looked down, because he was met with the sight of your eyes directed straight at him as you took the tip of his dick in your mouth.

A shiver ran down his spine as you played with it, moving your tongue and your hand to see what made him react positively, but Mark was so obsessed with you and everything that you did that there wasn’t a single part he didn’t find enjoyable.

He tried to bring himself to watch, but everytime his head would start reeling. He resorted to keeping his gaze on the ceiling most of the time, his hands gripping onto the counter behind him. “Fuck…” Is all that Mark managed to whisper in a shaky voice, trying not to make much noise.

You wanted him to make noise. It’s a habit of his that drives you the craziest. When he enjoys it so much he can’t help but resort to whining, pleading, begging. As you looked up at him, you were determined to hear that from him. Slowly, you took more of him in your mouth.

Mark shot to look down the deeper you went He was half concerned, knowing you had never done this before and not wanting you to hurt yourself, but the sight of you adjusting yourself to take more of him went straight to his core. “Y/n…love…slow down…” Mark stuttered, his hands white from how hard he was grasping onto the countertop.

You didn’t pay him any mind, continuing to work to hear those sweet sounds from him, inching more and more as you tried tips you had heard before. Hollow out your cheeks, swirl your tongue, make eye contact. As you looked up at Mark and his crumbling composure, you confirmed that the last one definitely made him the craziest.

You had maybe fit only a little more than half of him in, taking a few breaks to catch your breath as you relied on your hand, and Mark was right where you wanted him. Moans and whines mixed together as his body shaked, and he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Either you were exceptionally good at this for your first time, or Mark couldn’t believe it was you. Likely both.

After what seemed like forever, you finally felt him hit the back of your throat, and you kept your hand on what didn’t fit. A few tears pricked in your eyes, but you didn’t care. You were enjoying seeing Mark fall apart way too much.

You wondered what would happen if you bobbed your head even more, and so you did. It seemed that was the breaking point for you poor boyfriend as he shuddered, his hand on the back of your head, grabbing at with caution. “Y/n…God. You can’t…” Mark whined out, his body shaking even more.

You could, and you kept going until he was reduced to whines and pants and you could feel him twitching in your mouth. He hunched over, trying to guide you away. “Love…I’m gonna cum…I don’t wanna hurt you.”

You ignored all of his efforts, finding his words as an encouragement to only keep going more and more and more. Then, finally he let out one final moan that told you to expect the hot fluid that filled your mouth, and you tried your best to keep it all contained as you finally let it out with a pop.

Mark leaned down to you, his eyes wide as he realized what he had just done. “Baby, you don’t have to…” Mark began to say, but cut himself short as he watched you gulp, licking your thumb for the small bit that had dribbled out of your mouth. “Did you just…?”

You nodded, standing up to your feet and grabbing onto his arms, almost like you were trying to indicate something. Soon after, Mark's lips crashed on yours.

There was something so attractive about a man who kissed you senseless regardless of having just came in your mouth, unafraid of his own taste. It was even more attractive as he picked you up effortlessly, never breaking the kiss, and sitting you down on the sink. Not to mention the way he knew what you wanted, and what you wanted was him.

“Tell me if you need me to stop, Okay?” Mark whispered against your neck, his hands on your thighs as he planted kiss after kiss. Soon, they roamed to the hem of your shirt. “Can I take all of this off?”

You nodded, barely saying a small ‘yeah’ as he started undressing you like a present. First your shirt, your bra, your shorts, and saving your panties for last. Never taking his lips off of yours or anywhere on your body as he did so.

“You’re so pretty. So good to me.” Mark said, placing kisses all over your jawline, on your chest, on your stomach, wherever he could reach. “I love you so much, Y/n. My beautiful girl. I can’t believe I get to have you like this.”

“Mark…” you groaned, saying his name in the way he knows means you needed something more.

Mark kissed your shoulders, his hand going down to your clothed cunt, feeling how soaked through it already was. He slid them off, throwing them to the side with the rest of your clothes. “I know, love, I know. I just really wanna be inside you, is that alright with you?”

You nodded eagerly, “I have condoms in my drawer.” You told him.

“Wait here.” Mark said as he scurried off to find one. You could hear him opening every drawer, probably making a mess rummaging through your things and finally he stumbled back in. Mark ripped it open and slipped it on, going back in to place a deep but quick kiss on your lips.

“Come, I wanna try something,” He said, pulling you off the sink. You expected him to move locations, instead, he just turned you around, back against him as you faced the mirror.

“I…Is that okay…?” Mark asked timidly. “I just…I want you to see.”

If you weren’t losing your mind already, you were at that point. Your hand stretched out behind you for him, finding his face. “Yeah, it’s okay…just please, do it already.”

It was an offer he couldn’t resist and he was lining himself up with you before you knew it. “I don’t think I need to prep you, but…” He said, placing a kiss on your shoulder. “Tell me how you feel, love.”

It was your turn to grip onto the counter as you felt Mark slide in, bottoming out in you pretty easily. It was a new position and Mark was just girthy, but the both of you seemed adjusted after a few moments.

“Mark…please move,” you pleaded to your boyfriend, yearning for feel some type of friction. Mark wouldn’t stop kissing your shoulders, your back, your neck, as he started to give you the movement you wanted.

Every thrust felt enhanced in this position, and you could hardly hold yourself up. Mark always started slow, but once he started to get comfortable, his stamina would allow him to just go faster and faster until one of you came first.

This was no different and your head hung down as he started to pick up his pace. That is, until he used his free that wasn’t on your waist directing your movements to pick it up, holding it firm. He groaned in your ear, losing himself by the second as he spoke. “I…I want you to watch.”

The phrase went straight to your core, and you could only shudder as you did as he wanted. You watched as he went from looking at you in the mirror, down to where he was pumping in and out of you like his life depended on it. You watched his hand on your waist, directing you onto him.

Needless to say, neither of you were going to last very long in this position. Soon Mark was getting sloppier in his movements, and when he started pushing your back down, reaching even deeper than he already was, you knew you were close.

“Mark….I…I’m really close…” You panted, your legs shaking underneath you.

That seemed to only make your boyfriend go faster, giving you the last bit of everything he had. “So am I…we can cum together, love.”

Mark resorted to both hands on your hips as you reached your peak and it had sent you over the edge. You leaned on the counter riding out your orgasm meanwhile Mark felt your walls contract around him, and it only took a few more thrusts before he was right there with you.

He slipped out of you, throwing away the condom as he caught his breath, seeing you leaned over the counter.

A few seconds later, Mark was hooking his arm around you and under your knees, carrying you bridal style to your bed. You were still out of it as he sat you down, and it was beyond how he has the ability to walk around after that.

Mark had gone into the bathroom, and came back out with his boxers on, a wash cloth, and a fresh pair of clothes to help you change into.

Sex was great. With Mark it was amazing, actually. However, nothing felt as great as having a partner who takes care of you, who helps you clean up and change info new clothes, who you know loves you unconditionally because you’ve known him for years. And during all this time, he always treated you with the same dignity and devotion.

As Mark finished helping you slip on a hoodie, you grabbed his hands, looking down at them with a warm look in your eye. “You know, I still can’t believe how many times you tried to confess to me.” You told him with a giggle, recalling the story he told you about his trials and tribulations in finally telling you he loves you.

Mark knelt down, wanting to meet your eye level better. “I can’t either. I’m honestly surprised we’re here even now.”

“I’m not.” You answered. “I don’t know…I just always felt like one day we would. I always knew you’d be first to crack.”

Mark laughed, scooting closer to as his eyes stayed locked with yours. “I’m just grad I kept trying, because apparently the third time was the charm.”

“I took a leap of faith, and it gave me the love of my life.”

.   　˚　✭　*✦　.　‧₊˚🕷‧₊˚　.　✦　˚ 　 ˚　.˚ ✭　.

- chapter 1

-chapter 2

[wisteria-lodge]

Wait the wiki is bad? I use it all the time 😭 I thought the whole point is it's community-run so people should be able to fix any mistakes (and since it's a huge community that's been running for very long it seems quite robust and strict on verifying information) I do get that it has info from the videogames which most people don't regard as canon, though. But when it does it tends to note it as such, and they still consider the books/movies a higher "plane" of canon.

I love reading the wiki, but I do have to do a lot of follow up and sifting if I'm using it as reference. In tends to throw in the video games, JKR interviews, *actor* interviews, and Pottermore content, and sometimes it's organized and clearly marked, but a lot of times it isn't... and that has definitely slipped up my co-writer (whose knowledge of HP isn't as crazy as mine) a few times. Unless you already have a really solid grasp on everything, it's easy to get confused. Like here's someone who wrote into me, asking about a sentence in the Narcissa page that was 1) Poorly written 2) wrong.

The other problem with the wiki is that since it's community run, every page tends to be written by fans of that particular character. This is especially obvious with the villains. Like read through the Lucius Malfoy, or Severus Snape pages. There is so much there that's bending over backwards to give them a positive edit. There's a lot about Lucius' elegant dueling style (no source) and his skill with potions. Like the actual detail is 'Lucius Malfoy mentions having a potion collection in Book 2.' I don't want that extrapolated into 'Lucius Malfoy was a model student who got into the Slug Club because of his skill with potions.' Like let me write my own headcanons! It starts speculating that Lucius got Voldemort monologing on purpose in the graveyard to buy time for Harry!

Snape's page says that one of his skills is writing poetry. He wrote a rhyming logic puzzle in book one, which I would say is not the same thing. It also says he communicates with floriography, which is a reference to a fan theory about how the plants he lists in Book 1 are a coded message about Lily. Like *I* know that. But then the wiki just cites Book 1. That's not in Book 1.

This is actually so common that co-writer @niche-pastiche and I have an in-joke when we attribute any flattering/creative interpretation to Tom Saunders, Wasp Scientist.

Tom Saunders is a New Zealand biologist who named a species of wasp after Lucius Malfoy because:

"People see wasps as villains, as the 'bad guys.' But the truth is that the vast majority of wasp species are either neutral or beneficial, from a human standpoint. Just as Lucius Malfoy is pardoned after separating from Voldemort's allies, I'm asking people to pardon wasps in order to restore their reputation as interesting, important creatures."

Like I get that you like wasps, and Lucius Malfoy, I do too. But that's not info that's in the books.

(It is Pottermore stuff, but I honestly count Pottermore as tertiary canon at *best.* Like every once in a while it'll be a cool detail, but JKR is *not good* at worldbuilding, so most of the time, instead of explaining things... it just makes everything more confusing. And I think that all of this has the end result of accidentally gatekeeping newcomers who want to engage with the material. Like the person who sent that ask.)

[sturnlsstuff]

Heyyy, loving the new theme and I can’t wait to see what you’re cooking with the new au.

In the meantime, could I maybe request ghostface!matt going absolutely insane because the reader suddenly goes missing (in reality she just went to a cousins wedding or something and failed to tell him just to test him, a little bit toxic I know). Please feel free to make it as smutty, angsty or soft as you like.

Still making my tumblr addiction worse but I still love you for it, keep cooking:)

ghostface!matt would definitely somehow find out about an event like a wedding!! even without the reader knowing, cuz he honestly knows everything 😭 so i changed it a bit!! & sorry it took me so long and is short afff

there was no surprise to matt when he woke up around two in the afternoon. whenever he was out all night, taking care of his business— which is probably already being talked about by everyone in town, TV and the internet stuffed with informations after how many victims matt has left this time, he would always sleep long, needing some rest. being a ghostface can be tiring, after all.

that's when he first texted you.

only after taking a shower, eating lunch and getting ready for the day, he realized that he didn't get any response from you. he wanted to see you today, so he sent you another message. still nothing. not even a quick check-in.

you never do that.

his stomach twisted with unease, but he didn’t let himself panic. not yet. he typed out another simple text: "what u up to sweetheart?"

then, he waited.

minutes passed. then minutes stretched into hours that felt like an eternity. his fingers drummed on the edge of his desk as his eyes flickered over to the camera feed on his second monitor.

your room— still empty.

matt’s throat tightened. wherever you were— maybe library or your favorite cafè, or even shopping, you were supposed to be home by now. he was sure you didn't have anything important to do that day, he would know about this.

he stood up, pacing the small space of his apartment, checking the clock again. he keeps sending you texts, more urgent with each time: “just answer me i wanna know where you at".

no reply.

he ran a hand through his hair, then pulled his jacket on. he decided to go to your place, maybe you just fall asleep on the couch in your living room? sounds a lot like you.

though, once he got there, you didn't open the door and no sound could be heard from inside your apartment. which almost send him into a spiral, he tried to convince himself that he had control of the situation as always, but the pit in his stomach was growing.

panic started to claw at the edges of his mind as matt drives home, with one hand checking your social media again, but there was nothing new. now he was sure he's not dramatic. where the fuck where you?

it wasn’t like you to go quiet for this long. the silence gnawed at him sending waves of unease, crashing over him as for the rest of the day matt keeps staring at his phone, eyes burning with frustration. his thumb hovered over the screen, but nothing came through. the messages he sent you, the ones begging for a response, just sat there— unread and unanswered. he tried to convince himself you're just busy, but the thought barely stuck as he knows your routines and habits, and most importantly, you never ignore him.

he paced back and forth, the apartment suddenly too small, the walls closing in. his heartbeat thrummed in his ears, the more he waited, the more his thoughts splintered. what if something happened to her? what if she’s with someone else?

the idea struck like a bolt of lightning, and he couldn’t shake it. what if you didn’t want him anymore?

no, he thought, trying to calm himself. that's insane, he knows you wouldn’t just leave, you need him as much as he needs you... right?

or maybe you snitched on him and now hide somewhere?

"fucking idiot," he curses at himself as his thoughts were becoming a frenzy, a vicious loop of worst-case scenarios and insecurities. he paced faster now, his shoes scuffing the floor, his mind spiraling further.

he ran his hands over his face, trying to push the panic down, trying to breathe. she's probably just distracted, she’s busy, she’ll come back, it’s fine… the mantra didn’t help. nothing helped. his hands were shaking now, his vision blurred.

around 9 pm, when he made his nails bleed from how hard he was biting on them, his phone buzzed. matt grabbed it so fast, he almost dropped it.

he sees your name on the screen, and a wave of relief washes over him.

[ailelie]

Growing up, a lot of people would talk about how all politicians are terrible and how Republicans and Democrats are basically the same. Someone has to be in charge, it might as well be someone you like. And, if you don't like either option, it can be the one you dislike less.

Policies and such occasionally matter if the news makes a big enough stink, but, really, changes are rarely felt in the day-to-day. So, as long as they weren't doing anything too drastic, it doesn't really matter.

And I wonder how much that attitude, that idea that there's no real difference between the two parties affected votes. That combined with limited circles.

Sure, people might say others are being affected, but, honestly, people will say anything when it comes to politics. Politics just brings out the worst in people, right?

It's only when you see it happening that it becomes real. It is only when it touches your circle, that you believe. It isn't that you don't care about strangers. It's just that you're skeptical. The media twists everything these days. You can't believe everything you hear.

But, when it happens right in front of you, when it happens to someone you know and trust...well then. Maybe there really is a problem.

(PS: This is why having public, simple values is important, too. If you do want to vote for more than you who like, but you don't have time to read up on every issue, you vote for the people who seem to value the same things as you. And then you trust that they'll act in accordance with those values. One of the biggest criticisms I have heard levied against Democrats from people of all political persuasions is that Democrats don't stand for anything. That perception is a problem. If you're a low-information or just overwhelmed voter, how can you vote for someone who doesn't seem to believe in or stand for anything? Who knows what they'll do in office!).

-sigh-

A person who told me that I shouldn't worry about trump being elected, that I'll see it's fine, that I'm blowing it all out of proportion...

...just commented on a news article about Musk/trump going after the Dept of Ed with 'I don't understand.'

What's not to understand?

They said they'd do it and now they're doing it.

It was in both Project 2025 and Agenda 47. Like they told you they would do it.

She's a teacher.

And these are leopards.

[sensarna]

This is basically me going insane over a single name drop (spoilers and theories below)

So... Anton

The answer to the identity seems obvious, but I would not be myself, if I wasn't over-analyzing things

So let's do just that

The way the name was said - no explanation, no context - means one of two things: the person in question is either so inconsequential that he is not worth the breath to add the details, or is so familiar, that to add an explanation means going out of character. I'm more inclined to believe it's the latter, mostly because I don't remember a single character without even a little bit of background info added for the flair.

(Also Kitten didn't ask about him before or after D's story, so he is probably familiar with Anton. However, there is also a possibility that after.... everything, Kitten either didn't want to ask out of politeness; had no time to ask before D left with the dogs or missed the name entirely)

So, let's assume that this Anton is fairly familiar then. But who is he and what was he doing there? I believe he is one of three options:

1. He is a completely new character who's probably going to be introduced later. Most likely a hunter who worked closely enough with the family that Kitten either knows him or heard about him before.

2. He is one of the brothers. Again, Kitten either heard about him before or knows him personally.

And finally 3. Seemingly the most obvious answer, since he's the only person without a name - a Brother given to the Fey King as a thrall for 40 years. But I have a problem with this explanation. When Kitten tried to say the Lost Brother's name before, D stopped him. He asked Kitten not to say it out loud, clearly distressed and trying to calm down. So the idea that D would say it himself, with no pause or hiccup, seems to contradict with his previous reaction.

I, personally, think that Anton is one of the brothers - whether lost or still active only time will tell - and is more likely an Expy (exported character). Which means, that Anton - if you use the naming method of "sounding very familiar" - is the Extremely, Earth-Shatteringly, Unreasonably, Fuck-Ass Mad Boi Angron...which makes him an even better candidate for the role of this Lost Brother if you view him becoming a thrall as a twist on Angron's story in Warhammer, where he was enslaved at least twice: first as a gladiator, fighting for the amusement of the rich and powerful, and then when he became a Demon Primarch of Khorne.

So, yeah. Most likely an Expy of Angron. Might be the Brother given to the Fey, since it's the only person without a name, and the story itself has some parallels with the Warhammer Angron lore. But, D's reaction to the Kitten almost saying the name out loud doesn't match with how it was delivered later. May be Lost, may be Active.

That's all for me. I know it's pretty bare bone and doesn't have a satisfying conclusion, but there's not a lot for me to work with for now. I hope that in the future there will be more information about this character and I do hope that Anton is Angron, mostly because I want to see what kind of person he would be in this universe and what his relationship with D is.

P.S.: Not sure where and if I should mention this, but there were some ideas flying around on Reddit and Tumblr about what the other Primarchs might be like in HTP and I went with a more supernatural origin for most of them. I kid you not, when I've learned about Changeling The Dreaming I thought it would be hilarious if Angron was not a Werewolf or a Vampire but a Fae. Especially when I was informed of a thing called Redcap. Angron might not have anything to do with the hunger aspect, but he does have a mean attitude and a penchant for violence. So if Anton/Angron is confirmed to somehow be the 3rd option, then I kinda predicted it.

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

We should talk more about the fact Jason got swarmed and attacked by a mob as Robin, like??? Hello. He had to be left there because the mob was too violent with Batman near. He had to be taken to the hospital.

Look at those injuries!!

The next time we see him he's forcing himself out of bed and putting on the Robin costume thinking "I've gotta do what I can to help, even if it kills me!"

The next next time we see him he has walked into yet another violent mob

I cannot stop thinking about this story and the effects it probably had on him honestly. Do you think it's made him nervous in crowds, do you think it made him trust others just that bit less. How long do you think he was being attacked before he was found, the scene had cleared. "I've gotta do what I can to help, even if it kills me!",,,,

Just the concept itself! I don't know about you guys but being attacked and grabbed and trampled into unconsciousness sounds absolutely terrifying! Did he black out, still getting hit, thinking he was going to die? Knowing he couldn't defend himself as his injuries to took their toll? At their complete mercy?

1986-87 Legends, issue #2 (the attack), #3 (the hospital), #5 (getting up), #6 (defending heros from another forming mob)

2010 DC Universe: Legacies, issue #6 (flashback panel to Legends moment)

[forgettable-au]

As someone starting up their own Undertale AU, what’s the best way to like…get people to see it. Is there a method?

So...like...

The method that worked for me was making mini comics, people really like those! Slowly introduce people to the idea lol

I gained like 2000 followers here BEFORE starting the official comic just doing that :>

Uhm, my AU was easy to introduce because it's not THAT different from normal utdr content

So people saw my posts and and thought, OH! UNDERTALE CONTENT YAY! wait... what do you mean Papyrus is Gaster?

That's where they might catch interest and scroll through the blog

But I think that worked for me because of how similar my au is to regular undertale, people fell right into my trap lmao

[potatobugz]

i feel as if im going mad so im going to just put this out here. real quick. movieunleashers starters ramble.

i cant stop thinking about how mudkip broke down in that one scene in "Typomaniac," when Chespin called him mean. for a second he lets his mask slip a little bit and to me he just... acts his age. he starts crying and calls chespin mean back. maybe im just hyperfocusing on this one detail but mudkip is about 12 years old.

and that just makes me wonder what happened in this guys life that brought him to where he is now. and it makes it all the more tragic how his whole world revolves around chespin, but he is the one bringing him the most pain. and how young he was when he died.

there is a large theme of growing up in "Rare Candy." the characters ages are emphasized in that particular episode, and one of the main conflicts is fennekin wanting to evolve faster.

the thing about characters in these stories is that they're not allowed to just be kids, to have a childhood. so many bad things happen to them. like. mudkips whole, Everything. fennekin when she was famous in typomaniac, or dealing with her own insecurities/pressure from society about her relationship w chespin. and chespin always having to shoulder his friends problems & always somehow managing to stay positive despite everything.

why cant they just. play video games. eat ice cream or something. go to the movies

at the end of the day, i think both mudkip and fennekin are characters who grew up too fast. by distancing himself from them, chespin refused to follow in their footsteps and just wanted to stay a kid.

good for him.

[puhpandas]

Hii Percy!! I'm curious- what would be your ideal fnaf game after SOTM releases?

HI CHIP!! of course theres so many things I want to see after waiting so long but honestly I think a ggy game is what I'm expecting next. honest to god anything ranging from vanny!cassie to ggy and all the (human and not Cassies dad) characters in between I would be very happy with. it's why I'm so excited for sotm to finally release and end the mimic incorporation era. literally everything else it has left to cover are things that I would love

but yeah I think a ggy game would be absolutely hype and is actually very likely because of the THREE references/easter eggs weve gotten for him in a row!! I'm very excited to see what they're doing for him because damn ggy for Gregory's backstory has gone untouched for so long

I would love to see it explored in a campaign scenario of Gregory himself finding out about it but tbh I'm honestly expecting some prequel game about it that mostly just confirms it exists and expands upon content we dont know about from ggy like Rabs design and how he interacts with vanny. campaign would obviously be so much better for everyone involved but any ggy content is a win in my book

[britneyshakespeare]

i can't believe how much this company apparently does not want my money

[dyqo]

while japanese isn’t specifically a tonal language pitch does come into play in a lot of words and can be important (but not entirely necessary) in differentiating homonyms. For the most part i think its pretty intuitive but it definitely still trips me up at times. But i couldn’t explain how it works specifically if u payed me