#I'M SAPPY SO SUE ME

[clowningaroundmars]

Hobie1610 pt. 4

after so many months of waiting, the wait... is finally over.

here is the fourth and final part of this little au idea i had brewing in my head for some time now. i hope you guys enjoy?

and thanks so much to everyone leaving encouraging and kind comments on the previous parts as well! really appreciate y'all :)

hope this ending is a satisfying one :)

>pt. 1 here<

>pt. 3 here<

MJ: We’re going to hang tomorrow after my shoot, right?

It was a text that Miles looked at and looked at and looked at all day ever since it arrived into his messages that very morning. It literally came out of nowhere.

But how long ago was it that he and Hobie Jones ran into each other at Central Park? It had to have been like a week ago, he was pretty sure...

He thinks.

“Maybe the guy’s pushy or somethin’, he just really likes you for some reason,” Ganke had offered by way of explanation as they sat together at lunch for the first time in what seemed like forever.

Miles wasn’t entirely sure when he and Ganke ever got to chill like this together in the cafeteria area... but as luck would have had it, Ganke’s mom forgot to send over some money for the week, forcing him to buy from the cheaper menu that the school had to offer rather than ordering off of the many food delivery apps he had on lock in his phone.

They sat a ways away from the hustle and bustle of the main area, near a big window that looked outwards into the typical scene of the congested New York City streets, and Miles would have been perfectly content with this arrangement had it not been for The Text.

He jiggled his leg and rubbed at his jaw in between bites of his own cheap meal-- something he got even though he didn’t really want it, but what was he gonna do, let Ganke wait in line by himself?-- gazing at his cell phone sitting right by his elbow. The text message was gazing right back at him.

“I… dunno. I-- man, I wish I told you more about my patrols so you can remind me how long ago Central Park was. I swear it was only like… last week? Right?”

Ganke chomped on his own slice of pepperoni pizza and shrugged. “I think that was a while ago. Either way, he wants to go on this date with you. So you might as well.”`

Miles groaned. “It’s not a date, Ganks. We’re just… chillin’, hangin’ out a little,” he gestured with his hands, which was not convincing Ganke at all. “Y’know?”

Ganke leaned forward a little bit, glasses slipping down his nose as he grinned mischievously. “Did he figure out it was you, Mi? Is that why you’re so nervous about it?”

“Whaaat are you talking about? No… no, he didn’t! I just. Uh, I saved him from those scary gang members and then I swung him home and that was that. No one else knows but you and my parents, Ganke, promise.” Miles’ smile was even less convincing.

“Miles,” Ganke deadpanned, “have you ever thought about what would happen if some Flickstagram-famous model learns about your thing you got goin’ on? He could be pushing this because he knows already, dude. Or at least he thinks he does. You’re a weird kid after all, and it wouldn't take too long to put two and two together... no offense.”

Miles shoved a fist under his chin and chewed a french fry pensively, trying to come up with an answer that wouldn't give him away.

The thing is, Hobie did know.

Miles still couldn’t shake off the memories of his warm fingertips hooking under his mask and slowly lifting it off of his face, the way his entire visage seemed so positively radiant with that dazzling smile once they met eyes. He remembered Hobie’s wiry arms clutching onto him for dear life as they flew across the stadium towards the exit, the easy banter they had going back and forth after the action finally died down and they were safely heading back to the outer gates of the park.

So Hobie definitely knew. That wasn’t really the problem... although, Ganke might be right. It could be in the future, if Miles didn’t play his cards right.

Hobie is a solid guy no matter what dimension Miles found him in. Even as the Prowler on earth-616, that Hobie Brown was as an upstanding citizen as any crook could be. But flashes of earth-42 kept sparking up right behind his eyes every time doubt popped up about a new player in his life here on earth-1610, and one can never just assume anyways.

And now Miles is sitting at his lunch table with his best friend— who, until now was the only living person on this planet who knew about his secret identity— ruminating on whether or not Ganke might end up being a damn seer after all. Ganke doesn’t know that Hobie knows, but he really just might be right anyhow. That would really be Miles' luck.

Goddamnit.

Is Hobie planning on blackmailing him somehow? His involvement with those thugs stealing a prominent museum’s precious security info seemed a bit off to him, the more he thought about it.

They joked about it many a time over text, but Miles would be lying if he said he hadn’t turned a couple of facts over and over on more than one sleepless night. Hobie mentioned having connections, a camera, and seemed almost too recklessly opportunistic when it came to the chance at nabbing that flash drive...

Doubt was sinking back in. Miles drummed his fingers on the table and shot Ganke a look. “... Whaddya think I should do if he does, then?”

“What, if he finds out?”

“Yeah.”

Ganke shrugs again, popping a pepperoni slice into his mouth and thinking while he chewed. “Web him up to a lamppost,” he said after a bit.

Miles snorted with laughter. “Ganke, be for real right now. You’ve got great coding and social media knowledge, dude. Could you hack his tech if asked you to? Like, just in case?”

Ganke waggled his head, making a show of really, really thinking it through. “Mmmmn, yeah maybe.”

Miles sighs. “What do I have to do?” He asks because he knows his best friend by now.

“Fifty bucks and you also have to do my laundry for a week. What?” Ganke exclaims upon suddenly being on the receiving end of Miles’ glare, “If I get caught, it could mean like federal level charges on my head, dude. Take it up with the law, not me!”

Miles sighs and returns back to his plate of cold fries. “Yeah, yeah. You got a point,”

“But you gotta meet up with him first, figure out what we're dealing with. Just stop putting it off, bro. Avoiding him'll make you look more suspicious. Might as well get it done and over with,”

Miles swallows his fries along with his anxiety, picks up his phone, and starts drafting his answer to Hobie’s sudden proposal.

He doesn't know why there's a pit of dread in his stomach, but he opts to ignore it this time.

He hopes Ganke is wrong.

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The next day, MJ's cell phone vibrates on the portable vanity set up at the studio where his current shoot is taking place.

He’s busy, trying not to get too lost in the flurry of hands prepping him, the flashing of the cameras, the shouts of directions from the camera guy as he hits pose after pose with the props on set.

It’s when he’s changing into his last outfit for the shoot that he finally has some time to sip his water bottle and mindlessly scroll through dozens of notifications, finally coming across the one notif he waited to get the entire day: Miles. His name appeared at the very bottom.

... Meaning he received the message hours ago. Shit.

With his shoot almost over, MJ punched in a quick message and hit send, excitedly returning back to the set and finishing his work day up as quickly as humanly possible.

MJ's absentmindedly agreeing that every picture the director shows him is truly amazing, yes, amazing indeed, all while trying not to vibrate out of his mind-numbingly expensive designer outfit he’s been forced into. The only person he can think about as he dumbly nods along to whatever the crew is saying to him is Miles. Miles, Miles, Miles.

Miles has agreed to finally-- finally, after all of these weeks-- meet up with him and make good on his promise. Of course, MJ's slightly miffed that it had to be him to initiate the lunch date in the end, but whatever.

Closed mouths don’t get fed, after all. And Miles was technically not breaking his promise.

So now MJ is floating back down the hallway to the makeup room, gently pushing past all of the other models and swatting away at his mother’s hands while he makes his way over to his duffle bag.

“MJ, darling. Look at me,” his mother says as she hooks a finger under his chin and examines his makeup. “Do you wanna be wearing this when you go hang out with your little friend today?”

Your little friend, MJ almost scoffs out loud, but manages to school his expression into one of pure professionalism. “Yes, mom. Nothin' wrong with it,” he answers breezily.

She hovers. "I mean, it might make your friend think that... uhm, well. You know, it might give the wrong impression. He'll think you two are on a date! You're not allowed to date."

"Sure, mom. Except he knows I'm a model. The whole city does at this point." His tone drips with teenage attitude.

She lets him go.

Then, he’s unbuttoning his shirt and untying a sparkly scarf doubling as a belt to hold up the comically baggy jeans he was assigned to wear today, impatient to shrug himself out of those clothes and jump into his own so he can finally, finally, finally run down to the little cafe he told Miles to meet him at.

His mother was busy on a tablet typing away at something, chatting with MJ's agent once he found his way over to them, and even when neither of them noticed much about MJ on any other day, it seemed they were paying special attention to the way he was throwing his clothes back on with obvious glee now.

MJ had never smiled this much around them, and they sure took note of it now.

“Heard you’re getting ready to meet with a friend, MJ,” his agent told him once he turned his attention back to his client.

“Yyyep,” MJ answered noncommittally. He threw on a coat and started to reach for his messenger bag, stopping when a hand grabbed his shoulder and squeezed.

“We’re gonna keep in touch with the team, and keep updating you on the status of the shoot, but we gotta make sure you’ve got your phone on, right?” His agent looked him directly in the eye. “It’s great that you’re making friends again, Em, but you have to keep your head in the game.”

Yeah, of course. “Don’t let anything distract you from helping me make money” is what you mean, MJ thought ruefully, blinking back innocently.

He nodded and offered his agent a casual smile. “I mean yeah. He’s just a friend, I’m not gonna let that get in the way of my job. Don’t worry,” he adds, “I got my phone on. Hit me up when something cool happens.”

His agent and his mother exchange glances, but agree to release him anyways.

“I mean, he’s still a kid,” he hears his mother say as he quickly exits the room and finds his way towards the elevators. “I let him have a little fun every once in a while! The real work doesn’t start until he’s older right? Might as well let him have this for now..."

MJ rubs his thumb up and down along the edge of his phone case, feeling the bumps of the volume keys over and over.

He steps into the elevator when the doors slide open. He punches the button for the main lobby and stares down at his messages with Miles.

Yes, he thinks a bit vindictively, the real work doesn’t start until he’s older.

She definitely isn’t wrong about that.

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"You ever think about running away at all?" Hobie asked Miles rather suddenly after they got their usual greetings done and over with.

The cafe Hobie picked was cute, quaint, and very small. A nice little reprieve from the noisy halls of their school and the bustling city streets, since the business didn't seem to have any other patrons at this hour aside from the two boys.

They picked their seats right next to the window and opted to people-watch for a bit as they scrolled through the cafe's stylized menu on their phones. The lighting of the late-afternoon day illuminated Hobie in such gorgeous warm light that Miles was almost suspicious; did he pick this place specifically because the late sun's rays would bounce off of nearby skyscrapers and cast them both in the best mood lighting New York City had to offer? It sure seemed like it.

Hobie leaned back in his seat and gave Miles the most charming smile he's seen on a guy yet, erasing his suspicions from his brain entirely. And... well, anything else as well.

"Uhhh," Miles offered intelligently.

Hobie huffed a laugh in response. "It's okay, I know it's a weird question. Forget I said it."

Miles shook his head. "Wait, no. Sorry, what'd you say again? I'm, uhm. Sorry, I think I'm just a little tired. Kind of out of it,"

Hobie nodded sagely, setting his phone aside for the time being. "Hmm, late night homework, right? Essays maybe?"

They chuckled and grinned at each other cheesily, the knowledge that they shared a big secret between them settling comfortably and cozily like a fat cat curling up near a fireplace. It was nice, kinda. To be in on something that not many other people were, like an inside joke or a long-running bit between old friends.

But then Miles' earlier conversation with Ganke at the school cafeteria floated back up in his mind again and he had to bite his lip to keep from frowning suddenly. He looked down, a bit ashamed.

"Hobie--" he started.

"MJ," Hobie interrupted, chin in his hand now.

Miles looked up. "MJ. Oh, yeah. Right, sorry."

"I don't really like my given name, so no one calls me that. Just call me MJ. Or Em, even. That's what my agent calls me."

"Agent. Geez. So you didn't really answer my question earlier, back when we first met," here, Miles folded his arms on the table in front of him. "How famous are you, really?"

MJ grinned like a mischievous cat, chin still in one hand. "You've been on my Flicksta page this entire time since you found it. How famous do you think I am? Not that hard to do research nowadays, right?"

Miles felt his face heating up. "H-how'd you know about that?"

"You liked a post of mine that I made like... last year, dude. I saw."

Miles silently cursed himself out as he shut his eyes in embarrassment and winced. "Yikes. Alright, I guess you caught me. That was my bad for sure!"

MJ's grin was crooked. "Yeah, I'm... pretty well-known. Not supermodel status yet obviously, but I've been on a couple billboards. Posters, some ads. I'm training to walk some shows. Whatever." He leaned back in his seat again and messed with his sweater's sleeves a little as he spoke. Distantly, Miles noticed how expensive MJ's clothing really looked, how plush the knit of his sweater was, and the tailoring of his coat.

"Whatever," Miles echoed inquisitively. "Do you hate it? Is that why you wanna run away?"

They met eyes.

"I thought I told you to forget that question, Morales," MJ replies coolly. "It was a weird one. I dunno why I even said it,"

Miles, sensing something in the air between them, wondered if he should have changed the subject. Too bad his mouth had a less-than-stellar track record of listening to his brain.

Instead, he opened it and quietly said: "If we're gonna be friends, and if you want me to not web you up to a pole somewhere in Manhattan, I gotta know your deal."

"Mn, my deal," MJ repeated warily.

"Yeah," Miles sighed, already resigning himself to just getting this over and done with already. No time like the present, right? "You mentioned... you mentioned having a camera and connections. And you're just... weird, man. Like, no offense but you being in Central Park when you were that one time? Running away from those gang members who looked like they were gonna strangle you for takin' their flash drive away from 'em? That was super risky. Something's up."

MJ nodded, still looking apprehensive but also like he wanted to give in. "Right, I've got your big secret. Now you wanna have one of mine. Fair, I guess."

Miles shrugged helplessly. "If we're gonna be friends... I mean, it is fair, right?"

MJ glanced around at the empty seats around them, grateful that even the cashier seems to have gone to the back so that they were both totally alone together. Good spot to pick after all, he thought to himself. He kept his voice down just in case anyways.

He licked his lips and leaned his elbows on the table. "Yeah. I get it. It's a big thing you're doing for the city, y'know... doin' what you do. So here it is: I hate being a model."

Miles blinked at him, waiting for more. MJ didn't immediately being speaking again so he made a go on kind of motion with a hand.

MJ laughed a bit, shaking his head. "This is gonna be stupid. It's gonna sound so stupid! God," he rubbed the bridge of his nose with a knuckle and looked outside at a small stream of people walking past, all in a hurry to get on with whatever it was that occupied their lives.

"... About as stupid as some kid from Brooklyn putting on a costume to go out and fight crime?" Miles smiled patiently.

"Well, kinda. It was because of some punk kid from Brooklyn putting on that costume to go fight crime that I finally had the courage to like, go out there and get into my little hobby of breaking and entering, snooping around places I shouldn't, trying to help people..." MJ stopped when he saw the look on his friend's face.

"You...?" Miles started, his lips forming the shape of the words he wanted to say but not quite letting them out into the open just yet.

Did he hear that right?

As if reading his thoughts, MJ nodded. "When you took up the mantle of Spiderman after our first guy died, I took it as a sign. To like... finally just do it, right? I guess all that was left was just taking the leap, y'know what I mean?"

Miles suppressed a shudder as he nodded along, pushing Peter B's lectures out of his mind for the moment.

"I hate being a model," MJ continued, a single loc falling into his determined face, "because I wanna be a journalist. Like... an investigative journalist. But I also like science stuff as well. I guess I dunno what I really wanna be when I'm older. All I know is... I have got to get away from my overbearing mom."

"Or else," Miles finishes for him, tilting his head as if to say remember our conversation at the park?

MJ grimly confirmed it. "Or else," he replied.

Miles blew out a breath and leaned all the way back in his own seat, folding his arms over his chest. "Wow."

"Yeah, heavy stuff. I know," MJ tossed his locs back over his shoulders and glanced up at the posted menu hanging high above the register. The cashier returned from the back, placing several different pastries from a baking tray into the cafe's clean little glass display at the counter.

"Wanna...?" MJ pointed his chin at them, already pushing his chair out to get up.

"Oh, yeah. Food! Duh," Miles answered and got up to follow suit. How could he possibly forget?

The rest of their hangout goes over wonderfully after the grim conversation, all things considered. They opt to chat amicably about surface-level stuff mostly; family dynamics, friends, schoolwork and more about MJ's day job as a model.

"My mom acts like she's my agent most days, too." MJ is recounting this in between sips of his black coffee, long fingers nursing the ceramic cup he was given. "She's the one who got me into these modeling gigs in the first place. She said I had 'the look'... whatever that means. I like bein' behind the camera, though. Not in front of it," he lamented.

Miles spears some lettuce that fell out of his sandwich with the toothpick his side of pickle came with, waving it around as he talks. "Your mom sounds like the type of parent that pushes their kids around a lot. I guess I would know what that's like,"

Sensing a chance to commiserate in their shared dilemma, MJ leans forward a bit and smiles. "Your folks sounded nice when you described them. What's up?"

"I love them, and they sure do love me, but," Miles shakes his head and picks the lettuce off of his toothpick. "I dunno. They want the best for me and... sometimes it feels like nothing else matters but that."

MJ has the lower half of his face carefully hidden behind his mug when he asks: "Have you told them?"

Miles sighed, long and loud. "Yep. Yeah. They know. They do. That was... a very long story but. Anyways, yeah, after all the stuff that went down this spring, I finally had to fess up. No one else knows but you guys, though, I swear."

Miles silently patted himself on the back for managing to completely omit Ganke from the conversation. Can't give up his ace up his sleeve so soon, now can he?

MJ nods sympathetically. "I wasn't kidding, you know. Back when I told you that your secret was safe with me. You've got one of mine, so. No one else but us,"

Miles raises a pinkie over their plates and makes eye contact with him. "Pinkie promise?"

MJ's eyes flash at him.

"Duh. I never break promises," he replies, hooking pinkies together and smiling. "I'm not really in the business of ruining the life of a pretty great hero right now."

"Until it benefits you, you mean," Miles says, really only half-joking.

MJ doesn't take the bait. Instead, he deflects the best way he knows how. "Oh yeah, absolutely. If someone's out there putting a billion-dollar bounty on your head someday, you already know I'm goin' for it. What? It's a billion dollars, dude!"

They laugh together as Miles throws a piece of tomato in his direction and MJ threatens to pour the rest of his coffee onto his lap.

It felt good, felt natural. Their banter was smooth and seamless which Miles thought was a relief because very few people he encountered in life wanted to keep up with his constant sarcasm and nerdy jokes. No one else seemed to share his sense of humor except for MJ, and it made him feel a bit of warmth in his chest.

Even if they only stayed friends, he seemed to be a great companion to have nonetheless. And Miles had Ganke as backup in case anything went wrong between them. It was a daunting thing to come to terms with, the fact that such a cool guy like Hobie M. Jones had the ability to stab him behind his back at any moment's notice, or accidentally let Miles' secret double life as the crime-fighting webslinger out at the most inopportune time.

But... it wouldn't be the first time a friend has double-crossed him.

Miles wasn't stupid. He knew that letting more and more people in on his secret identity was a huge gamble, especially when it came to keeping a secret as big as this was. The risk was too high, the rewards might not even be worth it.

Worst of all, his friends could be legit and then get hurt if they ever found themselves somehow caught in the crosshairs of his other life.

... But Miles didn't want to think about that right now. That was a problem for future him. Right now, they were both too busy being what neither of their own families seemed to want them to be: a pair of carefree kids.

In this moment, MJ didn't have to worry about stifling and busy schedules arranged for him without his consent. He didn't have to worry about itchy fabrics or ill-fitting designer clothes or loud and bright cameras capturing his every move. With Miles, he could finally let loose.

And in this moment, Miles didn't have to worry about crime-fighting (for now), juggling mountains of schoolwork to please his parents, or keeping up appearances so he didn't arouse suspicions as to where he always was when he managed to slip away. With MJ, he could relax a little and enjoy the small things that always escaped his notice as he rushed this way and that, desperately trying to keep up with the chaos of his everyday life. Time seemed to slow down and speed up simultaneously when they were together.

They finished up their meal and exited the cafe, thanking the cashier and pulling on their coats to hopefully battle the frigid winter air of the city. They made their way up and down blocks, past shops and restaurants, weaving in and out of passing crowds on the sidewalk.

As they wandered aimlessly, unable to escape each other's gravitational pull for even one second, they talked some more.

They talked about Miles' art, MJ's secret science experiments in his room and how he fought his mom to get into Visions in the first place, about Miles' parents and his daily workload he usually juggles. They tried talking about Miles' start as Spiderman, but they didn't get too far along that topic before realizing there were only so many code words they could use to say what they wanted to say out loud before devolving into a fit of giggles.

They chatted about their plans after they graduate, how Miles still wants to go to Princeton and how MJ is planning on funding his own college education once he saves up enough money to leave his station in life and go wherever the wind takes him.

Miles seemed a bit sad at the thought that their friendship looked to have an eventual expiration date in the future, but there didn't seem to be anything changing MJ's mind anytime soon. After all, he didn't even know if he was going to keep in touch with Ganke once they stopped being roommates. And they ended up being pretty tight, against all odds.

So as they kept their casual pace through the city, Miles made a mental note to remember and cherish days like these as much as he could. He checked his phone for the time... this blissful moment of normalcy would have to end soon.

"So," Miles said once their long conversation eventually wound down. Their feet had taken them to a nearby subway station, the gum-covered concrete steps already beckoning them both to bid each other adieu.

"So..." MJ glanced at him, stopping them both by the railing and smiling down at his friend.

The day was drawing to a close, the sun had fully set about half an hour ago and they both needed to get out of the streets and back to their regular everyday lives. For Miles, this meant he had to get at least an hour of patrolling in before swinging back to his dorm room and getting started on his studies for their chem test on Monday.

For MJ, it meant returning back to Manhattan and steeling himself in preparation for the eventual lecture he knew he was going to get, about not staying out so late without supervision and how he didn't respond in time to his agent's texts. The usual.

"I hate to say it, but it's lookin' like we might have to say goodbye for now," Miles shrugged, hanging his head for comical effect.

MJ laughed brightly. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you sound like you don't even wanna leave."

"You might be right about that. Wish me luck tonight, I gotta... y'know," Miles leaned casually as he could manage against the railing, shrugging a shoulder.

"Right. Do your extracurriculars,"

Miles groaned. "Yuck. Let's not call it that, please! You sound like my dad. Let's just call it my weird hobby instead."

"Okay, so I guess I gotta let you go to do your weird hobby instead, then."

"Which just so happens to be graffiti, by the way," Miles' lips quirk up mischievously, giving MJ a look as he slowly slides against the railing and places a foot on the first step. "I like to spray paint around the city every now and then... in case anyone wants to know. In case they ask."

MJ bobs his head in response, following Miles' movements. "Ah, right. Spray painting! Super cool. Anyone asks where you are, I got your back, man."

Miles' smile is as dazzling as it is endearing as he places a hand on the metal railing and lowers himself some more, unable to bring himself to cut the invisible rope anchoring him and MJ together, holding them there in that one space as a constant stream of New Yorkers climb up and down the steps beside them.

Thank you New York City, Miles finds himself thinking.

No one glanced in their direction, they were completely surrounded by people, but still alone. The lights of nearby shop signs and street lamps gave MJ a bit of a halo around his hair, and from the angle he was standing at, Miles looked up at it and believed that it made him just glow.

They gazed deeply into each other's eyes, the usual noise of the city falling easily into the background. It was just the two of them.

"... Yeah." Miles says a bit awkwardly, unable to pull away. "Yeah, that sounds... good. Great. Thanks man! You're a real one,"

MJ smiles knowingly above him. "So you might wanna head on down now. Don't wanna keep you from catching your train."

Miles grins back. "Right. My train."

"Go get 'em, Tiger." MJ responds, offering him a little salute with his fingers and finally turning away to disappear into the thick crowds that flowed up and down the city sidewalks like water.

After a little bit, Miles felt like he could breathe normally again.

He descended down.

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Miles' life went right back to normal, with a new element added in.

He still rushed through his days of back-breaking homework and tests, still tried to keep up with the crime-fighting and his family back home who kept pestering him with exclamations about how he was always late to events and get-togethers, especially as the holidays rolled around.

(His mother pulled him aside for a quick little chat on how he needs to get better at communicating where he was so that she and Jeff could make up excuses for him ahead of time)

He still gamed mindlessly with Ganke on most weekends after their school break ended and the students all traveled back to their dorms, he still texted his extra-dimensional friends whenever he was free and had a minute to spare.

But now he made some space for another special person in his life: Hobie M. Jones.

They passed notes back and forth in the classes they shared like a pair of friends back in elementary school (to avoid leaving a trail of evidence on their phones, Miles argued when he brought it up to MJ, who just laughed) and walked each other to their classes whenever they could.

But it was risky business keeping someone like MJ so close, especially if it could arouse suspicion when Spiderman happened to swoop in and save him out of the blue. Both Miles and Spiderman hovering around MJ's vicinity day in and day out could be a possible liability to contend with indeed, so Miles still tried keeping his distance whenever possible.

For what it was worth, MJ seemed to understand. He was also occasionally followed by cameras from online fans in the real world or opportunistic reporters looking to try and pry precious info of a new marketing campaign MJ happened to be a part of, so this kind of life wasn't new to him either.

Thankfully, he agreed it was best to only get together in private.

As the months flew by, exams and assignments came and went, but their friendship only flourished.

Miles found himself admitting some surprising things to MJ on late-night text conversations when he couldn't sleep and needed to hop out of his dorm window to burn some energy. He found himself doodling his friend in his sketchbook often, unable to scrub the images of his flawless modeling photos from his brain.

He found himself... doodling their names together on hastily discarded sticky notes and coming up with illegible graffiti so he can mash their names together on stickers and shamelessly slap them up onto signs, onto walls, onto bathroom stalls and stairwells and notebooks and poles and bus stops and--

Miles startled out of a reverie as he was balancing himself on a random window ledge somewhere in the city, fully suited up, sketchbook in hand as he doodled little hearts around a profile study of MJ. Tucked under the page he was working on was an embarrassing amount of stickers with his and MJ's last names on them.

God. The humiliation he would face if MJ ever got his hands on this book. His mind flashes back to the sheer embarrassment he felt back when Gwen suddenly dropped down into his room from a portal and began to leaf through his old sketchbook, finding one too many drawings of her own face in the pages.

The memories snapped him out of his weird love-induced haze and forced him to shamefully fold over the corner of the page and hide those little hearts.

First, you ran away from him after you figured out he was an MJ, now you're obsessed with him. ¿Quién te puedes entender?

The sound of Miles' conscience was taking the harsh shape of his mother's voice. Not good.

He sighed and shut his sketchbook, shoving it into his backpack that was webbed onto the wall right next to him. Crime never slept, but it did have its ebbs and flows that Miles found himself in tune with as the months went by. This hour on a Thursday evening happened to be one of the slower hours for crime fighting, it seemed.

Regardless, he yanked his bag from its sticky confines and brushed the webs off, straightening himself up from his position and mindlessly checking his phone for any pressing updates.

Finding none, and with nothing much else to do... he sent MJ a quick text.

Miles: Busy rn?

He knocked himself on the forehead for it, knowing he might regret what he was about to propose but... he couldn't get the guy out of his head. He was dreaming about MJ on the regular now, which was never a good sign. Might as well see if he was up to doing any crazy last-minute stunts since the heart seemed to want what it wanted.

The reply came almost immediately after.

MJ: Nope, just surrounded by a pile of annoying hw, why do you ask?

Miles grinned as he typed a quick reply, hit send, and shot a web up to climb to the roof of the building.

Miles: I'm thinking I'm like... about a 15 mins walk away from your place. Wanna hang? I can swing by

He can almost taste the eye roll in MJ's replies, which made him smile beneath his mask.

MJ: You're corny as hell and that's exactly why you're my friend

MJ: Just give me a few to get ready

Miles sends back an affirmative, and tucks his phone right into his bag's side pocket which he then throws over a shoulder. He turns towards the general direction that MJ's penthouse apartment is located, right over the Brooklyn Bridge.

On his way there, he rehearses all of the coolest lines he could think of, not quite hoping to impress his friend or anything, but hoping that maybe MJ won't see him for the weird dork everyone else treats him as. And... to also keep him from suspecting anything or whatever.

They've hung out together countless times before, after their initial meetup. And not once did flawless-fashionable-cool-model MJ make him feel like he was ever uncool or off-putting. Maybe that was why Miles was so infatuated with him, when it came down to it. Still a good idea to play it safe, just in case.

It would have served Miles much better if he gave this friendship an even wider berth, retained his mysterious reputation... but there was something so arresting about MJ's eyes, his mannerisms and gentleness that contrasted so sharply with his quick wit, surprising bravery and intelligence.

Miles can shoot off the wittiest lines on the planet, but at the end of the day, he was still a boy with a crush. Alas.

In the time that he vaulted around NYC as Earth-1610's Spiderman, Miles developed a knack for snappy one-liners that MJ seemed to find endearing. Whenever they were together, they often fell into good-natured jabs and quips at each other, and he was so enamoured by it.

And it seemed like they just... naturally fell into the gravity of each other's orbit often anyways. Miles would look up into a crowd anywhere at Visions and immediately be able to find MJ. Like he developed an MJ-sense alongside his own spidery ones.

Two twin stars locked in orbit, a binary system forever hurtling through space together.

God, he really needed to get it together. That was super cheesy even for him, and he watched Titanic on his laptop damn near a hundred times at this point.

The thought had him yanking on his webs much harder and flying through the late evening air just to burn off the heat that built up in his gut.

He had to quickly remind himself that regardless of whatever happened between them, he promised that he would forever cherish it all. Miles wasn't an idiot, he knew that being Spiderman put a dampener on a lot of his relationships in life. It was a constant tug-of-war between him and his parents, and Ganke often reminds him of how absent he is at school, even when he's present.

Whatever happens between him and MJ in the future is whatever happens. Miles has already made peace with the inevitability of reality, like he so often needed to in this life. No need to get his hopes up.

Sobering up, Spiderman does several somersaults in the air before attaching a web onto the corner of MJ's swanky high-rise located not too far from the bridge. He sticks to the reflective glass and lets gravity do all the work for him as he drops down a few stories, hoping he was just a quick black blur that could be chalked up to just being a bird of some kind in case anyone happened to glance out their windows.

He hasn't been over to MJ's apartment at all, but knows the building from the outside very well thanks to the two friends' prior escapades. MJ's mom was strict according to him, and after sneaking them both out of the window to go to a mall or hang out at a park, swing around the city a bit and then drop MJ off back home, Spiderman was well acquainted with his bedroom window as a result.

He finds it again effortlessly and hangs upside down by a web, slowly lowering himself into view.

MJ's eyes light up immediately upon seeing him. He perks up, gets up from his computer chair to carefully lock the bedroom door and moves right back to his window.

"Well hello there, Spiderman! Glad you could make it." MJ smiles warmly, keeping his voice down. "Sorry, mom and the team are in the living room and I just told her I'm lockin' myself in here to study as hard as I can. Finals coming up and all... but we don't have too much time."

"Which is why you're only stepping out for a bit of air, right? Real quick, I promise." Spiderman replies good-naturedly. "It'll help clear your head."

MJ huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. "Where would I be without you?"

"It's Spiderman's job to help all of the citizens of New York... and you look like you could use it, so,"

MJ slides his window open even wider, already throwing a leg over the sill. "My hero."

Together, they drop down a few stories, just free-falling and enjoying the chill of the late evening for a few seconds, shrouded by the dusk's descent that was already darkening the vast sky above them.

MJ gasps breathlessly when Spiderman shoots out a web and sends them sailing over congested streets filled to the brim with cars and trucks, over tall street lamps and past bright digital billboards advertising all kinds of products.

They zoom past more buildings, arcing gracefully around corners. At one point, MJ dares to loosen a grip on Spiderman's shoulders and splay his fingers out against the wind.

They fly together like birds for a minute more, soaring through the air and then rounding right back on the path they carved into it so Spiderman could deposit his friend right back home.

MJ said they didn't have much time, right? And Miles was satisfied with their short little hangout anyhow. He got his hands on his crush, had him clinging onto his arms and his neck the entire time they were airborne. It was getting late and he had to head back to Visions himself as well.

"Take me up to the roof real quick," MJ pants into his ear. Miles tries very hard not to think too much about that as he wordlessly follows orders and makes a beeline for the roof access.

Together, they land near the edge, overlooking the concrete jungle that was Manhattan, surrounded on all sides by tall buildings that seemed to reach up to heavens, still much taller than MJ's own building.

It was a miracle they weren't seen together, but that might've been because of the glitter and glitz of the city night all around them. New Yorkers never really looked up anyways.

Below them, the traffic and the bustle of the city continued at its usual pace; a constant thrum of vibrations, sounds and lights as they flowed up and down the streets like blood cells traveling through veins.

Both boys leaned their elbows onto the roof's raised edge and peered all around them, enjoying their temporary peace, catching their breath.

"I'm real glad I met you, you know?" MJ says, uncharacteristically sincere. His face was an open door now, but he was still unable to meet Spiderman's eyes.

Miles thought it might be appropriate to keep his mask on for now.

"Man, I only swung us around for like a few minutes. You don't need to confess your love for me, I'll take a thanks as payment. That's all." He joked but still tried to keep the sarcasm light. Didn't want to ruin the moment, after all.

MJ offered a crooked smirk at that, but then sobered up again. "Nah, really, man. I mean it. I'm not sure where I'd be right now if I hadn't transferred over to Visions and literally bumped into you. Crazy how life works like that, huh?"

"Right, especially since you were my biggest fan before that," Miles reminds him. "Serendipity or whatever."

MJ nods slowly. "Serendipity. Yeah... exactly. Sorry. What did you just say?"

Caught off guard, Miles hesitates for a bit. Play dumb, Morales!

"Uhh, what did I just say?"

MJ laughs, punching Miles on the arm before folding his own arms over his chest. "I was a fan of the old Spiderman before you came along. When he died..." he averts his eyes, studying his shoes. "Yeah, that sucked. But then you came along out of the blue... anyways. I just took it as a sign, that's all."

Miles dramatically wilts against the side of the roof. "Daaamnn, bro. I just swung you around the city for a bit! I gave you a free ride, and I don't even get to be your favorite? I see how it is."

MJ bursts out laughing. "Don't worry, Spiderman," he says, holding up his hands placatingly. "You're on your way to replacing him soon enough! Keep giving me those free rides. And uh... thanks," he finishes lamely, raising his hand to shoot his friend a salute. "Yeah. Thanks. For this."

They smile sheepishly at each other for a few seconds and Miles swears he's going to start roasting alive in his suit pretty soon from the way the warmth in his chest was radiating outward towards every limb.

Butterflies were swirling inside of his gut and he swears he can hear the sappy music from a romance movie Miles watched recently playing somewhere near them. Maybe now was the time to... stop avoiding his feelings? Take that leap of faith, right?

He's done it many times before. This time was probably no different than any other time where he's been thrown way out of his comfort zone only to be kinda glad it happened, in retrospect.

He opened his mouth and started to speak at the same time MJ did.

"So, Em--"

"Uh, so--"

They jumped in unison, wide eyes meeting wide lenses. MJ dipped his head.

"Oh, sorry I was--" Miles chuckled, bopping his forehead with a hand. "S-sorry, what were you gonna say?"

He winced at the jarring awkwardness of it all. The sappy music went silent, the mood thoroughly ruined.

"Oh, well, uh--" MJ looked just as flustered as Miles felt. "N-nah, sorry, I was just gonna say that... that it's been a little while now. So I should probably be heading back," he gestured awkwardly over his shoulder towards the side of the building, trailing off.

"Riiiight, right. Yeah, duh. Of course. Just, uh," Miles turns so his back is facing his friend, gesturing at it as if to say hop on. "Lost track of time, I guess. My bad,"

"What were you gonna say?" MJ asks, right next to Miles' ear as always.

Silently, Miles tucks that part of himself away again for later.

He was really 100% willing to risk it all and go for it, just fully display all of that for a measly chance at getting to date the most popular kid at school right now, and one of the coolest people that he's ever met. He would kick himself if he weren't carrying him right there on his back.

What a stupid idea, Miles. Real dumb, even for you.

In a fraction of a second, he stuffs his emotions right back down in him. Time and place. Not the time, not the place, he reasons. They'd just met a few months ago, and they got off on a pretty rocky start. It just wasn't the time to be making such rash decisions. Yeah, that was it.

"Nah, forget it. I think I was just gonna ask if you wanted to come with me and Ganke to our favorite comic shop this weekend, but that's a dumb question--"

MJ suddenly squeezed his hands tighter around Miles' shoulders. "Duh! It's a dumb question because the answer is obviously yes, of course."

"You like comic books!? Since when?" Miles exclaimed in shock.

"I'm beating you as the top student in chem class right now. You are not nerdier than me. Stop playin' with me." MJ grumbles grumpily. He digs his chin vindictively into Miles' shoulder.

Miles' loud bark of laughter echoed off the rooftop as he takes a running leap towards the ledge, hops on it and promptly sends them plummeting several stories down.

MJ's cry echoed around them even louder.

After about a minute or so, MJ's back inside of his room and they're both trying very hard to suppress laughter so hard that their cheeks hurt and they're crying tears.

Thankfully, outside of the bedroom door, MJ's family never heard a thing.

[arabian-batboy]

I have been in the mood to watch some Shoujo so I finally got around watching Fruits Basket since its one of the most iconic Shoujo out there and it just feels like I’m missing out on not watching it and while I’m definitely enjoying it so far, I have to admit that Yuki’s (and Kagura) annoying ass almost made me want to drop the show...

[sortagaysortahigh]

Operation Exemies to Lovers | Cregan Stark

A/N: Now yall know i have not written and finished a fic in a hot minute so sorry if this reads a bit wonky. Yk I'm an enemies to lovers and exes to lovers girl, so why not combine them both into a modern!cregan stark fic? Also, this is dialogue heavy as that's kind of my thing, if it's not yours, welpt keep scrolling boo I aint mad!. I also fixed the inc*st family tree so you'll see that in this as well (i'll prob keep it for future modern AUs). Anyways lmk what you think and enjoy! Also, I suck at summaries so I pull quotes from my fics, sorry not sorry pookies

Summary: “So y’know those sappy novels Hel’s always reading, anyways I asked her about them and she had one where the two main characters were like totally at ends with each other but their friends were like ‘nah they should be smashing’ so we think, based on our research and our scholarly source-Helaena, we should force them to be around each other until they finally talk it out! Or well, y’know-f*ck it out”

Warnings: cussing, spelling and grammar errors (sue me!), kissing, mentions of smut/allusions to smut but no smut, arguing, Alyssane Blackwood slander (sorry girl), somewhat mean!reader, this is an AU where Aegon's not a bad guy!!!! just a clown <3, mentions of an ill parent, Baela be hitting Aegon (he earned it!), Aemond is still missing an eye sorry to the Aemond girls

Word Count: 6.4k (period I stuck to keeping it short and sweet)

Modern!Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader

“He’s staring at you again” you scoffed, rolling your eyes, doing your best to focus on highlighting the passages about the few Westerosi Civil Wars that had happened centuries ago. It was already difficult enough to focus in the crowded library, midterms were killing everyone. 

It wasn’t a shock for the once quiet and almost empty library to be packed, especially with student athletes who were desperately catching up on their studies in attempts to pass all of their midterms, write endless essays, and practically beg their professors for extra credit via email. 

You should’ve been able to focus on the task at hand, studying with your best friends Baela and Rhaena for your upcoming history midterm, the exam itself would focus heavily on the several majors wars that shaped westerosi society as a whole, and would even include the transition from government leadership as a monarchy into a democracy. 

Hell you’d even have to describe what was once known as the ‘Iron Throne’ and its historical significance. Truthfully the large metal hunk of junk was now sitting in the King’s Landing Red Keep Memorial Museum.

Usually the library was the easiest place for the three of you to study, it wasn’t as loud as your fourth floor flat in one of the student apartment buildings off campus, it was usually pretty clean and well kept, plus every resource you could possibly need was somewhere within the large building. 

However today, your usually comfortable red leather-lined chair felt stiff and was making you hot, not to mention the lack of air flow and increased temperature due to the amount of body heat on each floor, then the lights were either too bright or too dim, and all you wanted to do was slam the books shut, grab your laptop and leave.

“Let him stare.” you muttered as you tried to keep your gaze on the text in front of you, however it was getting increasingly difficult as a very specific pair of eyes were practically burning a hole into your side. 

Gods, he was so obnoxious.

“I don’t think it’s healthy for you to hold onto the grudge against him, of course he totally earned it! I’m not downplaying your emotions but anytime he’s around you stiffen up like a virgin afraid of dick” your jaw dropped at Baela’s words, now staring at her, brows furrowed in shock.

“Baela! You can’t say things like that” Rhaena almost immediately swatted at her sister’s arm, shaking her head before tucking one of her loose locks behind her ear. “You really take after father sometimes.” 

Baela simply shrugged, glancing back at the two tables that were usually empty, now they were filled with six of the school’s hockey players, all spread apart with a plethora of books, laptops, pens, and notepads covering the tables. That’s also not counting all of their bags laying on the floor besides their chairs. 

“I get that you two broke up on not so good terms, but you should be showing him that you don’t care about him! Not that he makes you so angry you’re about to explode like a bomb in Mario Party”.

With that Baela turned her gaze back to her laptop, however at the sound of several texts chiming in at once to both Baela and Rhaena’s phones, you knew that their cousins had texted them once again. It made sense that they’d all shared a group chat, especially considering how close in age they were, and how large the Targaryen/Hightower/Velaryon family was. 

Of course the first time Baela had broken down their family tree you were incredibly confused. Her mother Laena Velaryon was married to Daemon Targaryen, who happened to be the uncle to her cousins Jace, Luke, and Joffrey’s mother Rhaenyra. 

Now, Rhaenyra was married to Dr. Strong (or just Harwin as he’d asked you to call him once at a family gathering you’d been invited to, to which you quickly declined as he was your Literature professor), but based on the Targaryen’s political status within Westeros, their sons took their mother’s last name, not their father. 

Then comes Aegon and Aemond, now truthfully you’d met Aegon your second week of classes a few years ago when he’d caught you off guard, asked for your number, then got mad when you’d ghosted him after finding out he had a girlfriend! (Shame on him, truly). But you actually ended up being pretty good friends with the goof. 

Anyways, Aegon and Aemond were the children of Rhaenyra’s best friend, and now sister-in-law Alicent Hightower who married Rhaenyra’s only brother Baelon Targaryen. 

It’s also important to remember that throughout this entire family tree, which was in fact drawn out on construction paper for you, Alicent and Baelon also had two other children, Daeron and Halaena, both of them attending Sunspear University together. Then of course Rhaenyra and Dr.Strong (Harwin), have two much smaller sons, Aegon and Viserys, which was even more confusing considering you’d already met an Aegon.

Rhaena and Baela shared a look, and it was a look that worried you, so of course instead of being rational and brushing it off, you clenched your jaw as you slowly turned around, making eye contact with none other than your ex-boyfriend who’d been leaning his head against his hand and staring at you with what could only be described as a mournful lovesick expression.

You rolled your eyes, quickly turning back around before anyone else would look at you and do something that would probably piss you off. 

It also didn’t help that the cousins texting Baela and Rhaena were also seated at the table with your ex boyfriend. 

“Jace said that Cregan wants to talk to you but you blocked him, I don’t think you want to know what Aegon said, but it involved an eggplant emoji and a bed” you rolled your eyes, letting out a deep sigh while sitting up straight and shaking your head.

“He’s apologized a million times and has yet to tell me why he decided to go out of his way to not only break things off with me and tell me he still loved me in the same damn sentence, then go out the same night and end up on Aegon-Aegon of all people’s instagram story sucking face with that Blackwood bitch while she was on his lap.” 

You let out a cynical laugh of sorts, rolling your eyes once again. 

“Tell Cregan Stark that I’d rather fuck Aegon after one of his alley-way vomit sprees than ever talk to him again” however, before you could focus back on your studies, an amused laugh came from behind you before the chair next to you was pulled out, only for you to meet the gaze of Aegon Targaryen himself, a lopsided smile on his face with his brows wiggling in a playful suggestive manner.

“Well if I knew the easiest way to get you into my bed was to go drinking until I’m sick then I would’ve invited you out sooner baby” with that he leaned closer while making kissing noises, only to be met with your hand shoving his face away.

“Aeg, for the last time, she doesn’t want you like that” he feigned hurt at Rhaena, sliding back into the chair with his hand over his heart. 

“You wound me dear cousin! You wound me!” then he sat up straight, now looking back at you “so I was sent over here as a trusted messenger. My boy back there, you know him quite well, if y’know what I mean-” he wiggled his eyebrows up and down again, then you shoved him “-anyways, Cregan has been like all sulky and heartbroken and he really misses you. And he doesn’t want anything to do with Alysanne! She came onto him!, so can you give him another shot?”

With that you simply shook your head, quickly packing your things up while scoffing. 

“Tell your “boy back there”-” you spoke with air quotations “-that if he really gave a fuck about me, he shouldn’t have dumped me after two years for no god damn reason, then fucked that Blackwood bitch-who by the way is a fucking whore!” 

Your outburst was met with the looks of many, Rhaena quickly clearing her throat watching as you packed your things away. “What she means to say is, she doesn’t want to talk to him. I think it’s too fresh still”

Aegon scoffed “it’s been four months people! Four months! The summer ended, it’s a new semester, I think she can talk to him now” he glanced around the table, eyes widening as he watched Baela grasp quite the hefty textbook while glaring at him.

“Baela don’t hit me! I’m just saying! Listen-” but before he could finish you’d already gotten up and mumbled that you’d see them at home while you walked away.

Aegon paused, watching as you walked away, blatantly checking you out for a few moments, then you’d disappeared. He then turned around and motioned for someone to come to the table, this is what led both Jace and Luke to walk across the room and now sit where you were sitting and in the last empty seat of the table.

“Listen, we’re all tired of being caught in the middle of this awkward divorce alright. So we came up with a plan!” Baela shook her head while Rhaena sighed slightly.

“No offense Aeg, but your plans are always horrible, need I remind you of Aemond’s missing eyeball?” Luke winced slightly, remembering the day he’d accidentally hit Aemond in the eye with a firewood poker when swinging it behind him.

Truthfully, Luke had no idea Aemond had entered the room when he and Aegon were ‘dueling’ one another, however he’d felt his poker hit something, and he heard Aemond’s loud scream of pain. 

They’d all been kids when that happened, and to make it worse it occurred on their grandfather’s birthday when everyone had traveled to King’s Landing for a large birthday dinner/family holiday.

“She’s got a point there Aegon, but-guys-we all came up with the idea together!” Luke placed his hands on the shoulder of his cousin and his brother, smiling widely while Baela and Rhaena both shook their heads in disappointment.

“Okay, you win, but if the idea is bad, Baela’s going to smack Aegon with that textbook, so pray it’s not bad” they all nodded, Aegon scooting back slightly.

“So y’know those sappy novels Hel’s always reading, anyways I asked her about them and she had one where the two main characters were like totally at ends with each other but their friends were like ‘nah they should be smashing’ so we think, based on our research and our scholarly source-Helaena, we should force them to be around each other until they finally talk it out! Or well, y’know-fuck it out”

He paused to take a quick breath “But we can’t let them in on the plan, otherwise Cregan’s gonna be all like ‘oh my god no she hates me, the love of my life hates me I can’t torture her, blah blah blah, I’m so nice and honorable, blah blah’ and she’s gonna be like ‘fuck that, I’ll kill him for fucking that Blackwood bitch and dumping me for no god damn reason’. Also I don’t think he ever fucked Alysanne-but I did-niether here nor there though!” 

Jace and Luke looked at Baela and Rhaena as if they were waiting to be yelled at by their mother, meanwhile Aegon smiled and nodded after his long winded explanation.

Rhaena spoke first “y’know honestly, your impression of her is pretty spot on.” Baela nodded her head in agreement before adding in “but if this doesn’t work, and she finds out, she’ll want to kill all of you and Cregan. I’m sure you all have realized being on her shit list isn’t exactly the best”

Jace nodded, glancing back at Cregan who was finally focusing on his statistics work with a stoic expression on his face. “Listen, if it doesn’t work and she kicks our asses that’s fine, but we at least have to try! I mean come on Rhae you told me that she cries over him still! And he’s no better. There might not be tears but he’s so long winded and mopey”

He then sighed, patting Luke on the back “I think this is our best shot. I mean c’mon they’re some of your guys' closest friends, and Winterfell over there’s my best friend that I’m not related to-oddly enough they’re pretty rare these days. They used to be so happy together! Now look at them both”

Baela sighed, nodding her head as she finally set the books in her hands down “she’s definitely not really herself anymore. Maybe if it doesn’t work, then at least they’ll both get closure from their relationship”.

Aegon smiled, nodding rapidly again “see! You guys get it!. Also don’t tell Aemond either, y’know he’s too ‘I’ve got a stick up my ass’ sometimes. We can call it operation-uh what’s the book trope that Helaena called it again-one second everyone!” he paused, grabbing his phone from his pocket before quickly calling his sister.

“Hey Hel, yeah yeah I’m good, what did you call that book again! The one where they were like forced to be around eachother then fuck it out and get married and shit?” 

Several hundred miles away, Helaena was grasping her nose bridge as she let out a deep sigh, her brother truly was a character.

“Oh-okay! Got it-thanks so much Hel, love you too! Give Daeron my love and remind him to wrap it up with those Dornish baddies!” with that he hung up the phone before meeting Baela’s disgusted glare.

“You’re so gross, Aeg. And stop saying the word baddies-you sound so cringey!” he simply shrugged at her.

“Anyways, now that we’re done being rude and judgemental to our baddie eldest cousin who’s super smart, funny, and beautiful, we’ll call it operation enemies to lovers!” 

Rhaena raised a brow “wouldn’t it actually be exes to lovers? Since they’re exes? I guess they might also be enemies based on the way she wants to wring his neck-and not how she used to-” with that her eyes widened as she slapped a hand over her mouth.

Jace sighed “don’t worry Rhae, we already know about the shit he let her do to him. Young love, what can I say” 

Aegon nodded his head, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively once again, then he slightly elbowed Luke, who met his gaze with a laugh before they both spoke in unison “kinky innit”.

“Anyways-are we doing this or not? I’ve got a history midterm to study for and you three are interrupting it, and it’s bad enough that Aegon already made the smartest person we know leave” It was clear that Baela was losing her patience.

“Oh come on Bales! Y’know if you’re still interested I can set you up with ol Benji over there, heard he’s a freak in the she-” there it was, the book smacking him in the face “-ow Baela! Jesus! You’re just like your dad! Mean and ever so beautiful to look at” he winked.

“Gross man, she’s our cousin!” he shrugged “didn’t stop our ancestors, okay fine-fine! I didn’t mean it okay! Shit. you all are so violent. The blood of the dragon I guess”.

-

Three days have passed and the TarVelTower group chat had been in constant communication about ‘operation exemies to lovers’ with the additional confused replies from those that were not present in the library that day.

They were planning a game night, it was something they’d all done in the past, inviting their other friends to come along as well for drinks and a night of utter tomfoolery. Baela and Rhaena had done everything but swear on the Old Gods themselves that Cregan wouldn’t be there, meanwhile Jace, Luke, and Aegon had to practically beg Cregan to come to Jace’s for the game night.

It was also a plus that most of them lived in the same building. Dragonstone University wasn’t that large, not compared to other schools such as Sunspear, Driftmark, or even Harrenhall-although it was rumored that Harrenhal U was in fact haunted, that’s probably what brought so many to the school in the first place.

Baela and Rhaena had to drag you out of your bed after your post-class nap and usher you into the shower, stating that you ‘stunk of outside’, which was rather rude considering your only classes today were virtual. 

They’d mentioned the game night several times, and each time you asked if Cregan would be there, they’d said no, which you found a bit odd considering Jace was literally his best friend and probably closest confidant. Maybe his father had come down from Winterfell again, but you were thankful that he wouldn’t be present to ruin your mood.

All you had to do was take the elevator up two floors, so all you did was shower and throw on a pair of sweats and one of Aegon’s many discarded team sweatshirts. It had his number on it and even after washing it what felt like a million times, it still smelled like his overly strong cologne that he claimed ‘the ladies love’.

He’d also told you that maybe you were an ogre for not loving it, which of course even further solidified your friendship with the moron (lovingly).

You took time to braid your hair, knowing that you’d probably wake up hungover without a want or a need to brush it, so this was just easier. Then you’d foregone makeup, knowing you truly didn’t care how people saw you, especially not your friends. 

Of course the one thing you’d always contemplated wearing sat on your desk, the thin gold chain adorned with a small charm in the shape of a howling wolf. It was as if it sat mocking you because almost everyday you’d stare at it while getting ready.

You’d worn it everyday for a year after Cregan gifted it to you. He randomly showed up at your door one day, slightly out of breath, a wide smile on his face with his disheveled hair pulled back. One hand rubbed against his short beard, while the other held a small black gift bag. He looked as if he’d run here, then was contemplating the decision to run in the first place.

Then he’d kissed you gently, a smile you rarely wore now, adorned your face then.

When you invited him in, he was quick to follow, shutting and locking your door behind him while you made your way to the small kitchen, grabbing him something to drink as he caught his breath.

Then as you spun around to hand him the drink, he held the bag out for you, practically forcing you to open it (it wasn’t forceful at all, rather when you declined opening it immediately, he didn’t hesitate to place the strings of the bag between his teeth before picking you up, then plopping you down onto the couch, soft giggles leaving your lips when he climbed right on top of you.).

You remembered him watching as you opened it, he held himself up overtop you, while you easily pulled the small jewelry box out of the packaging, then when you opened it he looked almost nervous, as if you wouldn’t like it.

But you’d kissed him, pulling him down into your lips, thanking him between rushed kisses. 

You shook your head, snapping yourself out of it before grasping the necklace and shoving it into one of your desk drawers. Out of sight, out of mind, you’d tell yourself-until you’d go looking for a pen and see it again.

Rhaena’s voice knocked you out of your thoughts completely, she stood in your doorframe, her posture a little too straight, which would’ve normally thrown you off, but you couldn’t focus on that, not when you were trying to shake off the feeling of heartbreak.

“You ready? I’ve got the snacks already packed to bring up, you’ve just got to grab our blankets. Baela’s already there helping set up. Aeg said he’d give her twenty bucks if she’d actually arrive earlier than him for once” you laughed at that, shaking your head slightly.

It was no secret that Aegon and Baela were incredibly competitive, and as cousins, they had what could only be described as a sibling rivalry, always trying to one up one another when they could, and making stupid bets over random things.

You actually liked that they were all so close, when you’d befriended Rhaena, you never thought that she and her sister would come with a large family that would welcome you in with open arms.

“Yeah, just, let me-um-get my shoes, yeah my shoes. Sorry” you were mumbling and stuttering as you walked to the shoe rack beside your door, slipping your feet into your fuzzy slippers before following Rhaena to the living room, grasping the small pile of throw blankets before the both of you left your apartment. She was quick to lock the door, then you both headed upstairs.

You were still technically early when you arrived, and as you entered the apartment Aegon was handing Baela a $20 bill, while she smirked. Luke was laying on one of the couches on his phone, Jace was putting drinks in the fridge with the help of Benji who honestly looked happy to be there. Meanwhile Aemond sat reading whatever random philosophical book he’d chosen for the week, and to your surprise, Helaena was pulling what smelled like cookies out of the oven.

“Hel! You’re here!” she smiled when she saw you, placing the tray down before meeting your embrace. “Yea, I actually was visiting my parents and Aegon picked me up earlier.” you smiled at that, you enjoyed her company, even if it was a rare occurrence. 

By the time everyone was settled in, around forty-five minutes had passed, and everything was nice. For the first time in a while you weren’t on edge, which was definitely noticeable, and you’d actually managed to relax into the large bean bag below you. Even if it did remind you of a certain someone.

Then, it was as if you’d summoned the asshole himself.

Jace was quick to shoot up and walk to the door, glancing at his phone nervously. Then he opened the door, nervously laughing for a few moments.

Then you spotted him. Not before Aegon, who was already tipsy, had managed to shoot up from his spot on the ground “Cregan! Glad you could make it man!”.

Baela and Rhaena watched as you let out a deep sigh, it was clear you didn’t want to ruin the night, so you simply turned to face away from the door, burying yourself further into the bean bag, covering yourself in the throw blanket as much as you could.

It’s important to mention that the bean bag happened to be big enough for two people, and for a long time, it’s where you would sit with Cregan, well technically, given his size, you’d be cuddled up together, and now, as his gaze found you ignoring him on that bean bag, the gloomy cloud that followed him around had resurfaced.’

After a few tense moments of silence, everyone commenced what they were doing.

Aegon, still standing, held up a deck of cards.

“For today’s game night we’re gonna need to partner up! Rhaena, you’re with me tonight! I need your smarticle particles!” you blinked slowly, Rhaena was usually your partner. Then you sat in silence as you watched everyone partner up.

Baela was shoved into Benji-literally shoved by Aegon. 

Aemond chose Luke as he stated their team needed “balance”, which actually made a lot of sense considering Aemond was always somewhat brooding, and Luke was a ray of sunshine.

Jace glanced between Helaena and Cregan, but when Baela shot him a pointed look-missed completely by you-he chose Helaena.

Which of course left you with the one person you wanted nothing to do with.

Rhaena tried breaking the ice, watching as Cregan awkwardly sat in the armchair beside the beanbag. “It looks like our old winning team is back together!” you were the first to scoff.

“Hey! They used to cheat!” you couldn’t stop yourself from responding to Aegon “actually he waited until we broke up for that”. As you spoke, everyone’s eyes widened, meanwhile you remained in your spot, staring at your phone, mindlessly scrolling through instagram.

However, as good of a guy that Cregan Stark is, you were the only person that was ever able to bring a different side out of him. You two rarely fought, but when you did, it was almost catastrophic and usually ended in very rough sex, or a heartwarming apology after ignoring one another for a few days. 

But you’d never broken up, you both took time to cool off in whatever way you needed.

Things are different now.

“For the last time, she came onto me! I’ve told you this thousands of times!” As he raised his voice, the frustration in his tone was evident, and his accent sounded thicker than usual-a key indicator that he was upset. So instead of backing down, you scoffed, now looking at him, fury evident on your features. 

“Yeah because a man your fucking size was so easily overpowered by her right! She just waltzed right up to you and beat you into submission or something?! Oh fuck you Cregan!” 

The two of you held eye contact, anger and frustration evident.

Aegon slowly sat down, leaning towards Jace and whispering “I think it’s working”, meanwhile Jace shook his head, having been witness to the few fights that you’d actually had with Cregan in the past.

“What would you have wanted me to do, I was shitfaced! Was I supposed to shove her to the ground and tell her to go fuck herself?!” you nodded your head at that, now sitting up, even closer to him than before. He stared down at you as you stared up at him.

“Yeah actually, that’s the best fucking idea I’d say you’ve ever had!” he scoffed.

“We weren’t even together and you hold that against me! Still!” That's what sent you over the edge.

“You fucking dumped me for no god damn reason, told me you loved me, and then went and fucked that Blackwood Bitch! The same fucking day! As if I meant nothing to you, we were together for two years Cregan! Two fucking years!” 

He heard the crack in your voice, everyone did. As you stared at him, he could see the way your eyes glossed over, he knew you too well. He knew the tears were coming.

“I tried to talk to you-you didn’t wanna hear anything!” you shrugged, gathering your things as fast as you possibly could, now looking anywhere but him.

“You don’t fucking deserve to talk to me you asshole”. Then you stood up and did what you always do in these situations, you ran away and left.

He was left there in shock, staring at the door, jaw clenched while he watched you leave. 

“Well that’s one way to start a game night” 

“Aegon shut up!” cue the smack “Ow! Baela! Stop hitting me! Go hit Benji, he likes that shit!-ow! Seriously?! Jace and Luke, get your cousin!”

Then in unison “she’s your cousin too!”

And finally, Benji piped up “is she talking about my cousin?” 

Instead of watching you waltz away, Cregan stood up, grabbing his things and mumbling his own apologies. Then he left, he knew exactly where you lived, so instead of taking the elevator, he rushed down the stairs, trying to cool off. 

When he stood in front of your door, it felt like a routine, something his body was so used to. As if this was muscle memory for him.

Then he knocked, once. No response. 

Twice. Nothing. 

Three times-maybe third times a charm. Nothing.

He stood there, his forehead leaned against the door. Cregan Stark was not a man of regrets, hell he prided himself on actually being a good guy, he was raised to be respectful, to be kind, to be strong, Stark men were not assholes. They weren’t childish, they weren’t selfish, they were supposed to be honorable in every way.

But here he is, leaning against his ex-girlfriend’s door, still in love with her, full of regret for ever breaking things off. He hadn’t even explained himself. He wanted to-he’d tried that day, but you stormed out, tears that he’d caused flowing down your cheeks. 

Then he felt the door shift, and you stood there, wrapped in the same blanket, eyes red as you stared up at him.

Gods, all he wanted to do was tell you he loved you, that he needed you, that you made him feel whole.

“I don’t have any fight left in me Cregan. It’s been months, why can’t you just leave me alone.” 

“Because I love you.” you sighed, shaking your head “no you don’t. If you loved me you wouldn’t have left me.” 

Sure you might’ve been being dramatic, but truthfully, you’d been heartbroken for months, following your breakup you’d lost ten pounds in two weeks. You’d never felt worse, and now, you were starting to feel alright, but it was no secret that there had been many nights full of tears, hugging a sweatshirt that you’d never washed, hoping to preserve the smell of his cologne.

“Can you just fucking listen to me for five minutes, please, I’ve been trying to talk to you for so long, just please-let me talk to you” you shrugged.

“Why?” he blinked a few times, taking a deep breath, running a hand through his hair-hair that you used to always touch, forcing him to sit between your thighs while you braid his hair, laughing when he’d complain, or when he’d do poses for you after you’d finished.

“I love you, I’ve never stopped loving you, I go to sleep at night and my dreams are filled with you, your smile, your laugh, even your fucking frowns. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything. My heart fucking yearns for you. I can still feel the way you used to hold me, the way your breath felt against my neck, Gods, I think about you 24/7! I think about everything that I did, the way that I screwed up-I screwed us up. I love you! I’ll scream it from the fucking rooftops if that’s what you want!” 

You didn’t bother wiping away your tears, instead you stepped aside, leaving room for him to come in.

“You want to talk then talk.”

Then he walked inside, and shut the door the same way he used to. 

It truly was muscle memory, the way he walked to the couch and sat down in the same spot he was always in, then he waited for you.

He watched as you slowly sat next to him, still wrapped in a blanket like a sad burrito-Gods he spent too much time around Aegon. He didn’t hesitate to wipe the tears from under one of your eyes with his thumb, repeating the action on the other cheek.

“I didn’t want to break up with you. I never wanted to break up with you. My father’s-well he’s sick at home, I was going to leave, go back to Winterfell to take care of him, to take care of everyone. I just-I didn’t want you to be alone here, and I didn’t want to be your long distance boyfriend that you only ever see on fucking facetime. I just-I couldn’t do it.” 

You were silent, watching as he broke slightly, his voice cracking at the mention of his father, then at the mention of you being alone. 

It was no secret that Cregan and his father were close, you’d met Rickon Stark twice, and each time he’d embraced you with open arms and a warm heart. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he shrugged.

“Because, I’m supposed to be strong, I’m supposed to know my duty to my family, I’m supposed to be there for them, and it was hard-hard to say that I had to leave you for an unknown amount of time. I didn’t want to, I didn’t want to go a day without seeing you, you make me crazy in the best way, even now, whenever I see you on campus my heart practically flies out of my chest. Seeing you at my games, you’re like a ghost haunting me.” 

You slowly nodded, listening to him, watching the way he’d blink away his tears, the way his brows would furrow and jaw would clench slightly. 

“My dad’s the one who told me to stay. Told me not to throw my future away, that he’d be alright, y’know he’s a fighter-always has been. Told me to get my girl back-” he let out a small chuckle, the laugh laced in sadness “-but I think she doesn’t want me back. I went back up after we split up, just for a week, and he told me I was an idiot to leave it all behind. A full ride to Uni if I kept playing hockey? The girl of my dreams? Called me a bloke before he told me that he’s okay, he’s not letting go anytime soon” 

Cregan hadn’t been looking at you, he was focused on his hands, fists clenching slightly as he tried to swallow his own emotions. He hadn’t noticed the way that you’d been inching closer, not until your arms were wrapped around him, head leaning against his shoulder.

“You could’ve just told me from the beginning. I would’ve been your facetime girlfriend y’know? Would’ve figured out a way up there”

The familiarity of it all was what made him break, a small sob leaving his lips while you held him. It didn’t take long for you to shove him further into the couch and climb into his lap, the same way you used to when all you wanted to do was be as close to him as possible.

You held him, sat atop one of his thighs, arms wrapped around his shoulders while he cried into your shoulder. His arms gripping your waist, holding you against him. 

This is what should’ve happened all those months ago.

“I’m sorry for being a bitch” he laughed at that, and you felt his small smile. Meanwhile you ran a hand through his hair, fingers dancing through the dark locks before slowly running against his scalp. Your other hand traced small circles against his shoulder blade, you missed this.

You missed him.

“You weren’t a bitch-I probably deserved that.” you scoffed, moving back slightly, now holding eye contact with him as you brushed his tears away. “I was a bitch, I was the biggest bitch ever.”

He smiled, shaking his head “She really did come onto me. I did push her off-” you shushed him “I know. I believe you, I just-I dunno. I was hurt, then I saw that and it just stayed with me. I figured you dumped me for someone else, someone better-” he cut you off with a kiss.

It was so gentle, so soft, so sweet. Then he pulled away “there’s no one better than you for me. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest. I just-I didn’t want to look weak and I didn’t want to leave you and-” you shushed him again, this time holding a hand against his mouth.

“Shut the fuck up Cregan Stark.” Your tone was light hearted as you shook your head “You’re not weak for having emotions, and you aren’t weak for wanting to care for those that you love. Don’t be stupid, we’ve both been stupid enough.” he nodded his head, then you slid her hand down, now caressing his face, your thumb lightly pulling on his bottom lip.

“I missed you” you smiled, a small giggle leaving your lips.

“Based on the way you stare, I could tell” he rolled his eyes “gotta commit your beauty to memory somehow” you slightly shoved his shoulder “you cornball!” 

“I missed you too loverboy”

Then you kissed him again, a slow, passionate kiss full of emotions, smiles, and even a few giggles. He then slid his hands under your sweatshirt, and you quickly pulled apart, letting him take it off, leaving you in just your bralette, then his lips were on yours again.

Before anything else could happen the front door swung open, startling you both, leading to Cregan’s grip against you tightening, meanwhile Aegon and Jace both hit the floor, while Luke stood there awkwardly, Rhaena shook her head, and Baela looked as if she was being held back by Benji. Meanwhile Helaena and Aemond were nowhere to be seen.

At least until they moved closer to the doorway, both of them shaking their heads and muttering “fucking Aegon” in unison.

“I told you guys it would work! Look at them! Kissing and close!” Aegon still spoke, even from the floor while Jace was on top of him. Then Jace slowly rolled off, letting out an ‘oof’. 

“Were you all eavesdropping?” Aegon blinked a few times at your question, glancing back at everyone else. Then you noticed the flush on Luke’s face and Rhaena’s awkward expression. Plus Jace was nodding his head. 

“Why did the Gods make him our brother?” Aemond shook his head “I truly do not know.” 

“So are you two back together now?” 

You sighed, standing up and grasping Cregan’s hand, pulling him towards your bedroom.

Cregan glanced back, still laughing at the scene “yes. Now please, fuck off mate”

With that you pulled him into your room and locked the door.

“They’re all the worst” he nodded his head at you, he’d expected you to pull him into your bed, however you walked towards your desk, rummaging through the different drawers until you found something. 

You glanced at him “can you help me with this”, while holding up the necklace.

“I’d be honored” you rolled your eyes, a bright smile on your face while he walked over, taking the necklace then as gently as possible, clasping it around your neck. Then he left a line of open mouthed kisses from below your right ear, to the edge of your shoulder. 

“I love you” his voice was soft, a whisper, almost as if it was a secret shared between the both of you.

You smiled, spinning around, one hand now on his face, the other on the back of his neck, fingers tracing circles through his hair. “I love you too”

-

Taglist:

Girl it dont exist LMAO

[kittykittyanon]

mwah mwah mwah. crawling out of my anon box to smooch your cheek repeatedly and then explode because i love you so much.

i had to FIGHT and i mean FFFIGHT back the urge to put a kaomoji or a "mweh" or even the little thingy i do with the double brackets and every grammar thingy being doubled or tripled ((like commas,,, or semicolons;; or exclamation points!!!!!)) 'cause i wanted you to know it doesn't have to come from someone you know for it to be true and seen from an outsider looking in.

but i'm clumsily flopping and rolling out of the true anonymous box,, taking off my forreal anon hat per-se, 'cuz i think you already know it's me, mweheheee (*ﾉ∀`*) (*ﾉ∀`*) (*ﾉ∀`*) ((i wonder what gave you hints it was me, though... /lh))

and of COURSE i meant it!! truly, heartfully,, all-encompassingly an' every other 'ly's i know!!!!!! i wouldn't have said it if i didn't (*˘︶˘*).｡.:*♡

here is your ask detailing what i think of you based off of your most recent reblog!!

very, very kind hearted. you care a lot about the people around you and the things you love and it shows. it really,, REALLY shows. you're considerate and caring to an extent of which everyone around you appreciates, the energy you bring with each reblog, post, and comment (no matter how minimal you think it is) is welcoming and all-around awesome. i see the tags of your reblogs from me and it makes me smile,, i love seeing you talk about whatever /pos

you're friendly and approachable through and through, but you're not afraid to speak your mind and call things out as they are. (yeah!! yeah!!!!) your presence is very soothing. you have a lot to say and all of it is worth listening. /pos!!

you know those thingies, uhhh, what were they called again? homeric epithets? if you were one, you'd be bright-tongued and dew-eyed.

your ability to imbue text and writing with emotion and feeling is impeccable,, even the way you talk in general is visually pleasing.

i genuinely have nothing bad to say about you.

if i talked about a body and it's functions or whatever, you'd be the heart. the epitome of love and fondness and continual beating despite, despite, despite. does that make sense? mmm,, i'll try to figure out how to word this later.

we love you, zee. you're doing great.

My goodness. My, my goodness.

😭😭 I... don't even know what to s a y?? Like, what can I even say at this point??

I'm going to be completely honest, it's been a few days. I received this a while ago and I'm so sorry I'm getting back to it late, but when I first read it, I was completely dumbfounded. This needed to MARINATE. Needed to SINK IN.

and I'm okay now. 🥹 Gosh, do you know how liberating it is to say that? In any aspect of the word, no matter how little or how deep it goes.

Lemme just...,,,

This is probably the most poetic way anyone's ever described something about me. Like, if I ever had the pleasure of being remembered by equally as beautiful and poetic people in this lifetime, I do believe it would look and read like this.

I always say it, I think, but I'll say it again because I'm not tired of it: seeing myself through other people's eyes is an essential thing to my being and this has caused an entire nebula of serotonin to explode from the crown of my head and has reached every single nerve ending throughout my body, and it spreads like liquid gold: warm and viscous and boy, it has left me shining.

I thank you from the bottom of my heart (("you'd be the heart" THAT PART??? 😭😭🫀 DO YOU TRULY MEAN THAT?? IM PUTTING THIS AS MY OFFICIAL PROFILE DESCRIPTION FOR THE REST OF. FOREVER!! YEAH!!)), and for you? I'll always do my best to remain bright-tongued and dew-eyed.

Because if I've got shawtys out here describing me like this?? It means I've done something very, very right, and I never want to let that go or give anyone whom I love dearly ANY reason to believe otherwise.

Of course I know people make mistakes— and I know I'm far from perfect. But just being here and doing my best is enough. You guys helped teach me this, and I am forever grateful.

Y'all make me better 🥹🥰.

I love you so, so much. Thank you for being my friend. I love you. 🥰😭🧡

[aringofsalt]

❄️ WELCOME TO SNOWFLAKE HOLLOW -> CHAPTER 2 ON AO3 ❄️

"So, you're heading out in a few days?" He'd asked after a few moments of silence, the question carefully neutral. "I was kinda—kinda thinking about staying?" Evan answered hesitantly. "I mean, if you're not sick of me yet. Or if you haven't got someone else lined up for my cabin." "Evan, there's three empty ones," Tommy laughed. Privately, he thought that even if the others had all been full, he would've left Evan's for him until he was sure he'd be gone. "And of course I'm not sick of you. Besides, I haven't taken you up in the helicopter yet."

Tommy is injured in 2005 and moves to Snowflake Hollow, Maine, after inheriting Pine Point Lodge from his great-uncle. Buck is injured in 2019 and decides to cross the country to get a bit of a break before he does something rash (like sue the department).

Did you want a sappy holiday rom-com? Cause you're getting a sappy holiday rom-com.

evan "buck" buckley/tommy kinard | m | 6k (chapter) / 18k (total)

[eastbluecrewed]

huge fan of the barrel scene (witness me getting sappy beneath the cut)

i had a small but meaningful personal achievement coincide with reaching the barrel scene on my rewatch, and it got me thinking abt the impact one piece has had on me since i started it eight months ago. i love these guys a lot and they've done an absolute number on my psyche so of course i'm gonna tie them into the good things in my life!! sue me!!!!

when i first watched this scene i didn't realize the deep impact this story and these characters were going to have on me and how i view life, but damn they sure did!!! and so i thought it'd be fitting to do a simple little redraw as tribute to that and to myself.

hell yeah one piece time

[morimementa]

Things I like about Trolls 3

Floyd reassuring Branch the actions of adults are not his fault.

The giant water slide doodle.

Bruce's weight gain isn't played for humor. In fact, Poppy still sees him as a heart throb and it's presented more as a facet of him discovering himself rather than a personal failing.

The macramé interior of Branch's old house.

Everything looks like it has The Good Textures and I want to touch it. I've been underestimating the joys of Computer Animation.

The reoccurring felt and yarn crafts make me feel very seen.

Bridget and Gristle don't have to be conventionally cute to be main characters.

On that note, they're so sappy and cuddly they remind me of me and my boyfriend.

Bridget and Gristle being barely annoyed that their wedding is interrupted for a completely unrelated issue.

I hope Tiny's coffee is decaf because that child doesn't need more energy.

Floyd is my precious baby girl and I want to gently hold him and reassure him that those big rubber meanies won't hurt him anymore.

I'm sewing a Floyd plush to do exactly that.

The officiant at the royal wedding.

Poppy reassuring Branch that despite what his abandonment issues are telling him, she won't leave him.

Poppy getting a sister and it's everything she dreamed of. She deserves good things.

Floyd whump. I want ALL the fics of him being comforted!

Poppy being all protective of Branch. We love protective girl friends in this house.

The Trolls fighting with toys like finger traps and sticky hands.

There's glitter everywhere, even in the toilet water.

Don't sue me, but I like Crimp. She's just a little creacher.

I bet the reason Vacay is so popular is because being able to bathe in Orbeez sounds like sensory paradise.

Bruce's kids are very realistic kids.

Everything in this movie looks like a fun toy and it makes me happy. I know this is probably to peddle products but I still like it.

Mount Rageous's aesthetic balances between rubber hose Betty Spaghetti people and everything being made of faceted crystal which I didn't realize would work so well.

No one thought about the fact that the authorities would be able to get Floyd to safety easily and then they could do the perfect family harmony on their own time to break the bottle. But then we wouldn't have a movie.

Rhonda.

[imaginespazzi]

ive always had an inkling that they'd HARD launch one day, even though that used to be an unpopular opinion. their personalities have just always seemed to me like the type to literally wear t-shirts of each other's face and "I love my girlfriend" or something. like I really think at some point in the future they'll be LOUDDDDDD about it.

at least at this point I don't think the reason they're not hard launching is bc of privacy generally speaking, but specifically because they're still on the same team. I'll be shocked if the next draft isn't at least a very hard soft launch 😭

we're getting those sappy couple posts one day, trust.

See now that I think about it, they really do seem like the kind of people to be loud and proud so honestly it would not shock me if they did do like a proper unmistakable hard launch and then from then on were very open kinda like Sue and Megan.

Yeah the teammates one is a big one. It's like dating your co-worker like it's not wrong but it is frowned upon. It would also take away from their play on the court and I'm sure they don't want attention on their personal life like that.

[mad-c1oud]

Charlie-centric Guapotrio drabble for @brainrot138am !!!!!

they requested the guys with two different lines and you'll see the one I chose, but don't fret, I'm probably going to write the other one too haha

This is less of a drabble at 900 words but oh well, thrice as many people = more words

enjoy! sorry for any lil errors, m sleepy

+++++

“I feel like everyone is miles away.”

“Charlie,” Roier deadpans, “You are literally squashing Cellbit right now, no?”

Charlie groans loudly, burrowing further into the little space between the loveseat and Cellbit. The feline hybrid chuckles, bright and rumbly as it vibrates Charlie’s arm, his chest, his head. He is not squashing the other, in fact, there isn’t enough squashing going on because Cellbit brought his notes with him into the living area of his castle and has been buried in them while Roier remains buried in lunch and finally, Charlie is buried in the couch. And Cellbit. Sue him, the cat is warm and while there’s fire all over the castle, it’s a weirdly cold flame that has his joints locking up. It’s awful. Cellbit isn’t because he’s warm but Charlie still hates him a little bit for the stupid, icy flames.

“That’s not what I meant, dude.”

He shivers involuntarily at the sensation, the bitter chill freezing his limbs when it shouldn’t, and Cellbit makings a questioning mrrrp, reaching a hand down to bury it in Charlie’s hair. He can’t help the pleased hum that teeters into a chittering rumble when claws drag careful lines along his scalp. Cellbit purrs in kind as he tries speaking, words slurring but clear as day, “What is it, chayote? Meu chuchu?” Charlie knows exactly what he’s being called. It’s as insulting as it is really fucking sappy, ugh.

“You both suck, no sympathy for me, a li lol slime stuck in Eggxile and away from his…” Charlie isn’t sure how to finish that sentence actually. He’s not sure what they are but it definitely isn’t friendly, but the other two are married, and Charlie is just kind of… hanging around. There is also a lot of kissing involved. It’s complicated, sure let's say that, “—guys, his dudes. Alone.”

Cellbit laughs and abandons his notes, finally sinking into the loveseat so Charlie isn’t just cuddling his leg like it’s some muscly teddy bear. No, now they’re cuddling for real, legit-ly. Cellbit pushes Charlie into the back of his loveseat like he’s trying to make Charlie become one with it or let himself become one with Charlie, arms wrapped around him in a suffocating embrace. That and the loud, engine-like purring are almost enough to make the slime literally melt, but he holds it together because he wants this right now, something solid and warm. Something sturdy. Something… sure.

“And whose fault is that, pendejo? Hm? Who put himself in Eggxile and won’t visit unless under force? I had to lie and say Cellbit and Richas had gotten sick and I needed help.” Roier steps out of the kitchen and into the space, footsteps growing soft as he hits the rug. Charlie can’t see him from where he’s curled into Cellbit, but he can hear how Roier is upset, masking his annoyance and frustration under playful insults. He wilts into Cellbit’s arms more, admittedly shying away from a look he knows the spider is giving him.

“Gaupito, se amable con el.” Cellbit mummers quietly as Charlie hides further in his embrace.

“S’rry,” He mumbles into Cellbit’s shoulder. The hybrid smells like dust and old books, graphite, and rubber. He also smells like Roier. He smells like them, a smell so intertwined with the couple that there’s no name for it, not notes that stand out, just— it’s them.

But not Charlie.

Roier sighs and Cellbit nips lightly at Charlie’s shoulder in reprimand, annoyance, scolding. He pats a hand to the feline’s back in a clumsy apology. For what? He isn’t sure exactly, but the other accepts it and goes back to holding Charlie close, a hand coming back up to rake through his hair again. The spider above them speaks while Charlie tries to not doze off.

“Move over, you two. Apparently, someone thinks they are all alone and I guess we have to fix it,” But nothing happens because Charlie is just so fucking sleepy and warm and cozy, and the only thing that could make this better is— “Okay, fine. Cellbo, help me move the verdura to the bed, there’s more room there.”

Charlie snorts as he’s pulled from the loveseat and into Cellbit’s arms and still warmwarmwarmwam, “Was that a clever pun riffing off of Cell’s stupid nickname? Proud of you for doing it without gagging. I am rubbing off on you, man.”

He cracks an eye open to look at a blurry Roier, several sets of arms crossed stubbornly, but there’s a fond smirk lighting up his eyes. Fucking hell, why are they both so pretty. Charlie smiles back like it’ll convey his frustrations as Cellbit begins walking towards the bedroom.

“We rub off on each other a lot, man, but not that right now. Sleep. Also to prove a stupid point to a stupid slime.”

Charlie laughs and laughs and laughs the entire trip, Cellbit’s own chuckling buzzing his arm as Roier tries to remain unamused and failing miserably.

They prove their point very well.

A few hours later, after some much-needed sleep and aggressive cuddling, Cellbit wakes them both up with a gentle shake, confusion coloring his tone when he finally gets their attention.

“Uh Gaupito, weren’t you making lunch?”

Like an answer, Charlie’s stomach rumbles. Roier cackles tiredly, thumping his forehead against the back of the slime hybrid’s neck. “Yeah, I was.” It’s enough to set them all off again, rolling around in soft, worn sheets, laughing so hard someone starts crying and another gets the hiccups.

It’s fine. Lunch can wait a few more minutes, Charlie is already a part of a clingy sandwich anyway. With Cellbit at his front and Roier behind him, Charlie doesn’t feel as… far away. It’s not a long-term solution, but it’s enough right now. They’re enough.

[tomfoolies]

selfshiptober: tomja edition days 9-11

gonna say it immediately: all of these are super sappy, super fluffy, VERY silly and completely self-indulgent. the worst in that regard so far, that's for sure. that's why i wrote them, but i figured i'd give everyone a heads-up so y'all can't sue me if the sweetness of these is too much to handle 🤭

9. music 

Just as they leave the club, in that perfect state of drunk where the world feels both dreamy and sharp, real and fantastical — Sonja hears it. Barely audible through all the noise, both from the establishment they just left and the sleepless city they stepped back into. But she recognises it immediately.

"Our song! Are you kidding me?"

Tom spares a glance over his shoulder, listens, and then turns back to her. A look of exaggerated disbelief on his face. "This is our song?"

"One of our songs," she corrects herself, sighing in similar overdramatic fashion. "Hours of shitty song after shitty song and only after we leave, the good stuff starts."

From her lamenting he gets an idea. He holds out his hand for her, but it takes her a while to pick up what he's putting down. Once the choreography of his move becomes clear to her, she lets herself be pulled into an impromptu dance that's an awful mess to anyone watching. Their feet keep colliding, their rhythms do not match, and she ends up having to hold onto his jacket to stay upright.

Their shared drunken high hazes things over, and the streetlight they're directly under becomes a spotlight shining upon them.

10. warmth 

Tom hears the front door open and close, then the usual sounds from the hallway; the rustle and thud of Sonja taking off her coat and boots, the clink of the leashes as she releases Juno and Mondale. The dogs come barreling down the hallway, beelining to their food bowls in the kitchen. She follows quickly behind them, but her target is one particularly defenseless man situated right in the middle of the living room couch.

"Move over, big guy. I'm fucking freezing."

But the warning comes too late, and he yelps when her glacial body collides with his in a way that rivals the Titanic.

"I did not need to be convinced about it," he complains as she digs her cold feet into the toasty space between his thighs and the couch cushions. "Did the nuclear winter finally start?"

"It sure felt like it."

She reaches over to grab the TV remote from the coffee table. Soon the dogs come trodding over, bellies full; Mondale jumps next to her onto the couch while Juno settles at their feet. Both content and comfortable, just like their owners.

11. recovery

When he wakes up, hours have passed. The bedroom's shrouded in darkness, but the light coming from beneath the door tells him it's still daytime. Sonja's right next to him on her side of the bed, work laptop propped up on her knee while she types away. The light from the screen shines a dim spotlight on her face; an expression of deep focus, of mild annoyance. When she notices he's awake, her whole face softens.

Her voice is mellow, almost a whisper. "Feeling better? The meds kicked in?"

It'd been a while since the last bout of migraines this intense, so when she'd gone raiding the medicine cabinet and returned with a prescription bottle, the expiration date on it almost faded, she worried they wouldn't be of much help. His head still feels like it's not quite correctly attached to the rest of him, and the dizziness returns for a moment when he sits up, but the pain seems to have faded beneath a relieving numbness.

"I think so, yeah." A beat of tentative silence, then: "Thank you."

Overtaken by emotion, she reaches out in a feeble attempt to tame his hair, in a state of total disarray from his nap. Her touch is barely there, making sure not to hurt him. It makes him feel fragile, yet at the same time revered — a completely novel feeling. Something he can't quite wrap his head around.

[lostinthewiind]

I was wondering maybe a titan shifter reader, like season 1 ish era, and Jean? Angst like he sees reader die and get eaten by a titan, and the entire titan thing like Eren? If that makes sense? I haven’t asked a request in so long I’m rusty lol

Just Another Suicidal Maniac

A/N: SO glad someone requested Jean right off the bat because I'm slowly entering my Jean-girlie era and I'm down bad y'all.

Rating: PG13

Warnings: angst, major-character death, gore

"You seriously worry too much." You dusted off your pants as you stood up, grateful that the only damage done by your rough landing was a couple of bruises and scrapes.

Jean, who was in the middle of said worrying, didn't bother to inspect himself first before giving you a once-over with his wide, brown eyes. "Worry? Me?" Jean mocked before gesturing out wildly to the chaos around the two of you with his ODM blade—Titans roamed the streets freely, hunting the many scouts leaping from rooftop to rooftop. "Wonder what I could possibly be worried about?"

"We've made it out of worse situations than this," you reminded him. "You always do this, you know. You have a tendency to let your imagination run wild and assume the worst possible scenarios."

"I like to be prepared for the worst." He pulled you behind a chimney with him to avoid being seen by a passing Titan. Once the Titan had stumbled out of range, he crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. "Sue me for caring, I guess," he muttered under his breath.

You couldn't help but chuckle. "I appreciate that you care." You held onto the soft moment while you had the chance—these days, they were rare. "I want you to worry about yourself though. If you got injured, or god-forbid killed, because you were worrying about me and not yourself, I'd never be able to forgive myself."

Jean's harsh gaze softened. "That's not-"

"Is that what you want? You want me to live as a guilt-stricken widow?"

"Okay, first of all," Jean rolled his eyes, "you've always told me that if I die, it'll be because of my own stupidity, so don't go acting like you think otherwise now. Secondly, we're not married so you wouldn't be a widow."

"Oh, so now you're gonna die and revoke my widow status."

Jean groaned. "How about I just don't die at all?"

You smiled. "I think that's a good plan."

"Armin!" You both gasped at the same time.

Before either one of you had the chance to draw out the sappy-yet-lighthearted moment any longer, a scream rang out in the distance. The both of you shared a look when you recognized the voice. Only one person was capable of emitting such a shrill cry for help.

Jumping out from behind the relative safety of the chimney, you surveyed the terrain in the direction of the scream. A few smaller Titans who were just barely taller than the surrounding buildings were ambling about, swiping at the air in a desperate attempt to swat the soaring scouts out of the air.

Without even checking to see if Jean was behind you or not—you just assumed he was based on experience fighting together—you fired your ODM tethers into the nearest building and took off toward your distressed friend.

"Don't worry. I'll handle it." Jean flashed a smirk before looping his hands under the girl and lifting her into his arms. He tried to play off the way he stepped back ever-so-slightly to counteract being thrown off balance but both you and Armin noticed.

When you arrived to the scene, you spotted Armin in a narrow alley slashing his blade back and forth at the Titan hand reaching for him. Behind Armin, the unconscious body of a fellow scout—a girl you didn't quite recognize—laid in the shadows. Thankfully for them, the alley was just narrow enough that the only part of the Titan able to fit was its arm; and it's arm wasn't quite long enough to reach.

Dropping down into the alley, you and Jean quickly assessed the situation. "Thank goodness you're here." Armin breathed a sigh of relief and knelt down beside the girl. "I found her unconscious in the street. I was able to drag her in here but I'm too weak to lift her out of here on my own."

"If you try to use your ODM gear with her in your arms you'll both be splatting into the nearest window like a bug," you told him matter-of-factly. "I'll distract the Titan, you and Armin get her out of here on foot."

"That's probably the best-" Armin wasn't able to finish his thought before Jean interjected.

"Are you crazy?" Jean furrowed his brows. "You're starting to sound like Eren and we don't need two suicidal maniacs in the 104th."

Hands on your hips, you eyed him. "You're worrying again, dear Jean. Unless you have a better plan than this is what we're doing."

"Well if you'd give me a minute I'm sure I could come up with something better."

"Not to rush you guys or anything, but I don't think she has a minute." Armin looked down at the unconscious girl and pointed out the blood that was now visibly seeping through her shirt. "She's losing a lot of blood."

"It would be safer if you skipped the killing part and just looped back around after we were safe," Jean said.

Turning your back on the others, you stepped toward the Titan hand just close enough that its large fingers grasped at the air less than a meter in front of your body. "Then it's settled. My plan it is." You scoped out the area the best you could from your position. "I'll go up to the roof and lure the Titan to the right. If I remember the formations correctly, you guys should be able to meet up with Levi's squad if you turn left. From there, you guys can get this girl help and I can loop back around after I've killed this big guy."

"And leave him to devour someone else? No thanks."

One day you would die and it would be a real shame if you hadn't taken every opportunity to truly live beforehand.

Jean opened his mouth to protest some more but by the time the thought had reached the tip of his tongue, you were already on the roof. You forced a quick smile down at the two boys before stepping to the edge of the shingles. You weren't stupid—you knew this plan was risky and dangerous, but that was what you had signed up for when you made the tough decision to join the cadets and then the scouts. As far as you were concerned, the definition of living was the continued decision to keep going in the face of a world full of risky and dangerous decisions.

Gripping the handle of your ODM blade hard, you began to bang it against the edge of the shingles at your feet. "Hey, big guy!" You shouted to direct the Titan's attention to yourself. "Why waste your time with them when I'm so much easier to grab?"

"Game on."

At first, the Titan was much more interested in the three grounded scouts over the single one above it. But then, it seemed to re-assess the situation and conclude that you were right. As soon the Titan's soulless, buggy eyes had locked onto you, you smirked.

As the Titan's hand reached out to grab you, you jumped out of the way at the last second. With the Titan fully committed to the chase now, you took off toward the right.

Jumping from building to building, you had to be careful not to stumble with the unsteady footing beneath you; the shingles on the rooves were old and slightly loose, and every time the Titan's hand slammed into the roof behind you in attempt to capture its prey, you had to re-steady yourself.

Glancing back over your shoulder for a brief moment, you were pleased to see that Jean and Armin had almost carried the girl all the way to the end of the street in the opposite direction. With a triumphant smile on your face and the belief that the plan was going to be a success, you began mapping out the area and deciding how best to maneuver killing this Titan when the time came. Your plan, however, was a foolish one plagued by one major rookie mistake; you had forgotten to account for the fact that there was never just one Titan to deal with.

As you fired your ODM tethers into a building across the street, you failed to survey the ground below you before stepping off the ledge. One second, you were gliding easily through the air and the next, a smaller Titan had leapt up from the street, mouth snapping shut. There was a blinding pain in your right leg and when your instincts kicked in, you shot yourself away from the Titan.

Without the capacity to plan any further ahead than getting out of immediate danger, you soon found yourself smacking against the cobblestone street hard due to not tethering yourself to another building in your attempt to escape.

What you felt was the paralyzing inability to save yourself.

You cried out as your body skidded against the ground a meter or so before slowing to a stop. Your vision was blurry from hitting your head a couple of times but when you looked down to assess the damage, you felt your blood run cold at the absence of your right foot.

A puddle of bright red blood was quickly pooling from your fresh stump and all ability to think critically had gone out the window. Shock had frozen you in place so much so that you didn't even notice the Titan approaching you or Jean screaming your name until it was too late. You knew you should get up and try your hardest to get out of there; that no matter how futile the attempt, you had to at least try. But right then, what you knew and what you felt were two vastly different things.

Jean, who was about to watch you die.

Eyes slowly travelling up to the Titan looming over you, you suddenly wished you had listened to Jean. Jean, who only ever looked out for your best interest because he truly cared about you. Jean, who put on an act in front of everyone else but let his true personality shine when it was just the two of you. Jean, who was standing at the other end of the street, screaming your name over and over again while Armin held him back from throwing away his life to save yours.

You didn't fight it when the Titan squeezed its fingers around your torso and lifted you from the ground. Accepting your fate, you closed your eyes and tried to focus on not screaming. Your last thought—the one interrupted by the sudden, all-consuming agony of dying—was that you hoped Jean wouldn't life the rest of his life as a guilt-stricken widower.

As the fear slowly started to wash away, replaced by an unnerving sense of calm, you averted your gaze from the Titan and instead decided to spend your last moment alive staring into the brown eyes of the horse-faced boy you fell in love with. You couldn't muster the strength to say anything—you weren't able to decide what you wanted your last words to be even if you could—so instead you raised your right fist over your heart in a salute and smiled.

━━━━━

Your consciousness felt familiar and yet different. You were still you, there was no denying that, but you were also someone else; something else.

Awareness assaulted your senses in an almost cruel fashion. After embracing the comforting finality of death, a sudden return to the land of the living was brutal. You wondered if this was why babies cried right after being born. Then you wondered why you were able to wonder anything at all.

There was no pain, but if you were alive again—or at the very least, not quite dead yet—you should have been overcome with pain.

Standing at full height, you towered above the buildings around you. Your legs were weak and exhaustion gnawed away at your limbs but compared to everything else, the concern of being tired was tucked deep into the back of your mind. Looking down at yourself, you felt confused but not necessarily startled by the sight of patches of pure muscle where skin should have been. Piecing together all the information you had gathered, you were drawn to only one conclusion.

When you finally decided to open your eyes and face whatever reality was waiting for you, you were greeted with a perspective you were not accustomed to. The world around you was smaller than you remembered, and when you placed your hands underneath yourself to stand up, they were larger than you knew they should be. You were larger than you should be.

You were a Titan-shifter.

First suicidal maniac tendencies and now this; Jean was right, you were more like Eren than you thought.

Jean.

Looking over to where Jean and Armin had been when you last saw them, you were slightly surprised to see them still standing there. You didn't know how much time had passed between your technical death and now, but the horrified looks on their faces hadn't changed at all. You knew they knew what had happened to you after experiencing the same phenomenon with Eren but their shock and terror made it seem like this was the first time they had ever seen a human turn into a Titan.

Then again, you supposed the shock and terror could have come from watching you die and then immediately watching you turn into a monster. That was something that would take some getting used to no matter the circumstances.

You wished you could speak to Jean, assure him that you were okay, but like Eren's Titan you were non-verbal. You opened your mouth and the only thing that emerged was a soft, defeated growl.

Despite that, Jean's eyes softened the way they only did when he was looking at you. Then his gaze shifted and the terror returned. When you followed his eye line, you spotted the same smaller Titan that had bitten your foot off running down the street toward Jean, Armin, and the still unconscious girl.

As the Titan darted past you, completely ignoring you in favour of the easy human targets, a new kind of instinct took over. Without even thinking about it—the only thought being protecting the people you cared about—you kicked the smaller Titan hard, sending it flying into the side of a nearby building. When the Titan still showed signs of life, you reached down and grabbed its head with your much larger hand. Letting out a blood-curdling screech, you called upon every last ounce of strength you had left and bit into the nape of its neck. Once you were sure it was dead, you tore the the Titan's head from its body and dropped the remains to your feet.

Looking back over at Armin and Jean to confirm their safety, your knees buckled beneath you. Drained of energy, the last thing you saw before your Titan body slumped forward was Jean rushing toward you.

"Before you accuse me of worrying too much, might I remind you that I literally just watched you die." Jean's voice was urgent yet gentle in your ear.

When your human body emerged from the nape of your Titan form's neck, your lungs reacted as if you had just resurfaced after being underwater and you drew in a deep, gasping breath. Hot steam billowed around you and as your spent body began to flop over. Before you fell, two strong arms wrapped around you from behind.

"Oh, Jean." You let yourself relax into his embrace. "I'm so sorry."

Jean hugged you tight and buried his face in the crook of your neck. "Don't apologize. Don't you ever apologize for coming back to me."

[ryctone]

I think I may have found one old my old pieces of digital art ever before I even started posting on [tumblr]™ (I apologize for the quality in advance, it was on an old phone that had no cable so I had to take a photo with my own phone)

BEHOLD! One of my first ever attempts at a fake screenshot back in my S.U phase, Yad lore if you will /J

Given how his is traced out of one of the actual episodes of the series ("Back to the Barn", I believe) you can pin point the date of this being around,,,

2015!!!! At best!!

I still remember the names of these OCs: Pink Garnet and YellowPearl (yes, she was created before the ACTUAL canon yellowpearl was canon, sue me /lh)

I'm sharing this not only because I thought it was so cool I managed to find this VERY old drawing at all, but also just to say;

DON'T delete your old art! I know you may not like them anymore or think they're cringe or something else, trust me, I know that feeling! As someone who was persuaded by awful "cringe art videos" on YT into believing that if my art looked a certain way it was automatically "bad", I really do know,, but you still made it and you were maybe proud of it once.

And, it will make you see how far you've come in your art journey.

Got kinda sappy there pffff- but really, don't be like me and save your art in a drive or cloud or anything that'll preserve your drawings, so you can look back and laugh but also be happy to where you are now with your art <3

[toomuchracket]

after matty, george, and polly got their new tattoos. all i’m thinking about is the reader in d word universe getting a tattoo with them🥹

cute! yeah, as soon as matty hears there's a tattoo artist backstage at the festival he's dragging you with him to find them - you do an impression of that woman from the uk news like "you're joking. not another one?", and matty flicks your arm and says "shut up, you love them", and you're like "ok fine you got me there i do love your tattoos". you find the tattoo artist and also find george sitting getting his tennis elbow one; you laugh when you see it and say "g, you know i could negotiate physio for you to help that into your contract, yeah?" and george is like "could you actually? thanks love", so you put a little note in your phone to do it when you're back in the office like "anytime, sweets" and pat him on the head. and your melodramatic bf is jokingly like "smh why is g getting special treatment what do i get" - you're like "mate he's been injured at work he could get those lawyers off the tv adverts and sue me if i don't help him. besides, you already have my undying love and affection. is that not enough?", and george laughs at your tv comment while matty goes all sappy like "oh, my darling, your love and affection is far more than i deserve, and yet completely reciprocated" and kisses your nose. george is like "ok simp", which makes all three of you laugh. anyway, as g's tat gets the finishing touches, matty nudges you to quietly say "you gonna get one too? you were talking about it the other night", and you're like "hmmm not sure, idk what i'd get", and matty's like "well, have a think while i'm getting mine done if you fancy it, princess", before he kisses your head and sits to get his arm tatted. the nickname actually gives you an idea - once matty's had his cool cross done, you're like "hey can i actually get a tat on my arm too?", and you're invited to sit down and tell the tattoo artist you want a simple little drawing of a crown on the inside of your upper arm, literally just a tiny line drawing like /\/\/\ (with a base obv lol). you wink at matty after you say your idea, and he smirks and says "definitely fitting. need me to hold your hand?"; you're like "i don't need you to, but i do want you to", so matty sits next to you and holds your hand for the short amount of time it takes for you to get your ink. and after you're back in the dressing room he's like "i kinda can't believe you got it. it's so cute", and you giggle like "well, a princess needs her crown, yeah?" - matty laughs and he's like "true, babe, very true". once the tat heals, he's obsessed with it, kissing it before he leans up to kiss your lips and tell you he loves you lmao, v v cute <3

[ohhmichelettoohh]

We are making food on the fire with husband, because we are outside, and I'm like aaah, young Suleiman and Ibrahim after a hunt, frying something they just caught and talking and laughing and chilling, warmed by the flames. Feeling so free and young and like the whole world is theirs and yet so cozy.

Yeah im a but drunk and sappy sue me

[bromcommie]

♥️ 👻 💕 for the wrting ask game? hope you're having a good week!

Hi hi, thank you for the ask! Hope you're having a good week as well :) ❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?

Oh, god. When I reblogged this game I didn't realize how hard it would be, lol. I don't think I can pick a single line overall, but here's a line(s. Okay, it's a tiny paragraph, sue me) that I like from a chapter about Steve and Bucky in Naples during the war I'm reworking atm:

There has to be a kind of solace in this, he thinks, raw. Some kind of reassurance in the fact that there are things ancient here crumbling away slowly, with a quiet surety; not from senseless violence, just time. That amidst the grief, the stubborn memory of a life lovingly lived prevails.

👻 What is your wildest headcanon?

Aw, fuck, I'm blanking on this. I honestly don't even know what constitutes a wild headcanon, haha. Tbh I feel like there's very little that can surprise me anymore coming from the sprawling tapestry that is the Cap fanon, and my HCs usually fall under the "generally accepted" category so. No clue. The first thing that came to mind in terms of canon fix-its is this vague idea I had about Steve attempting to save Natasha when returning the stones but something going horribly wrong and his body and mind being scattered across space and time like the world's trippiest piñata, and him then having to piece himself together with the eventual help of others. That's not necessarily wild nor a HC though, just an interesting challenge and a way for me to be able to live with canon.

(The second, slightly more amusing thing that came to mind is that at some point in the future Bucky absolutely casually starts ~something~ with Steve at like the Brooklyn Public Library—partly because fine, sue him, he's a sappy bastard and moments of quiet joy together get to him, and partly because he's also an asshole and a riled up embarrassed Steve also gets to him. Which again is not wild at all, just based on the very real life experience of, well. Hearing people fucking at the Brooklyn Public Library, lol.) 💕 What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

My knee-jerk response in terms of prose has to be it's never over (hey, orpheus). Even though I've posted so little of it so far I've been writing it on and off for about 2 years now, it's spawned the two other standalones I've posted, and it's my baby. A baby I am stuck on, constantly banging my head over and changing my mind about every two days as my writing has changed a bit since I started it way back when, but still my baby nonetheless.

But realistically, the work that I actually like the best is the beloved name, exiled. I don't know if that's cheating since it's not exactly prose and has zero functional plot, but it's the only fandom related thing I've ever written so quickly and in such an inspired fury, and I'm actually proud of it still.

[lunamagicablu]

Willy: Ciao Luna. Luna: Ciao Willy. Willy: Sai, oggi ho camminato a lungo, tutta la mattina, fino alla valle dei salici. Luna: Davvero? Willy: Sì, lo so che è molto lontana, ma avevo voglia di camminare. Luna: È una bella cosa camminare. Willy: Poi, raggiunta la valle, mi sono addormentato sotto un grande albero. Ero proprio stanco. Luna: E hai dormito molto? Willy: Oh sì, moltissimo, tutto il pomeriggio. Quando poi mi sono svegliato, mi è sembrato di sentire una voce. Luna: E chi era? Willy: Luna, so che tu mi puoi credere, quindi te lo dirò; era il Grande Salice che parlava! Luna: E cosa ti ha detto? Willy: Mi ha salutato, mi ha detto che era molto contento di avermi potuto fare ombra e che potevo tornare a dormire lì sul prato quando volevo. Luna: Che gentili che sono gli alberi. Willy: Abbiamo iniziato a chiacchierare di tante cose. Sai Luna, non avevo mai parlato con un albero, quindi ne ho approfittato. Luna: Hai fatto benissimo, Willy. Parlare con la Natura è importante. Willy: Perché dici che è importante? Luna: Perché in essa ci sono le opportunità per intuire le risposte. Willy: E se domani facessi una domanda a un fiore, dici che mi risponderebbe? Luna: Certamente! Willy: Non saprei proprio che chiedere a un fiore. Luna: Per prima cosa potresti chiedergli come si chiama, e poi tutto ciò che ti viene in mente. Sappi però che i fiori sono specialisti nel parlare della bellezza. Willy: Allora gli chiederò se sono bello. Luna: Saranno felicissimi di rispondere alle tue domande, anche a questa. Inoltre, dato che è primavera e loro sono tanti, vedrai che ti risponderanno in coro. E c'è una cosa fondamentale da fare quando si parla con i fiori, con gli alberi, con i boschi e i suoi abitanti, e con la Natura in tutte le sue forme. Bisogna saper ascoltare. Altrimenti risulta impossibile intuire le risposte.

E Willy, salutando la Luna, si avviò verso la sua cuccia, curioso di sapere come avrebbero risposto i fiori alla sua domanda. tratto da Willy e la luna WEB *********** Willy: Hi Luna. Moon: Hi Willy. Willy: You know, today I walked a long way, all morning, to the valley of the willows. Moon: Really? Willy: Yes, I know it's a long way away, but I wanted to walk. Luna: It's a good thing to walk. Willy: Then, having reached the valley, I fell asleep under a big tree. I was really tired. Luna: And did you sleep a lot? Willy: Oh yeah, very much, all afternoon. Then when I woke up, I thought I heard a voice. Moon: And who was it? Willy: Luna, I know you can believe me, so I'll tell you; it was the Great Willow speaking! Luna: And what did he tell you? Willy: he greeted me, he told me that he was very happy to have been able to shade me and that I could go back to sleep there on the lawn whenever I wanted. Luna: How kind the trees are. Willy: We started talking about many things. You know Luna, I've never talked to a tree before, so I took advantage. Luna: You did very well, Willy. Talking to Nature is important. Willy: Why do you say it's important? Luna: Because in it are the opportunities to intuit the answers. Willy: And if I asked a flower a question tomorrow, do you think it would answer me? Moon: Of course! Willy: I really don't know what to ask of a flower. Luna: First you could ask him what his name is, and then anything that comes to mind. But know that flowers are specialists in talking about beauty. Willy: Then I'll ask him if I'm handsome. Luna: They will be delighted to answer your questions, even this one. Also, since it's spring and there are many of them, you'll see that they will answer you in chorus. And there is one fundamental thing to do when talking to flowers, trees, woods and their inhabitants, and to nature in all its forms. You have to know how to listen. Otherwise it is impossible to guess the answers.

And Willy, greeting the Moon, went towards his dog's bed, curious to know how the flowers would answer his question. taken from Willy and the moon WEB