#and this was supposed to be a fun easy summer and then I picked literally the worst job in the world.

[southislandwren]

Oh actually I think some of my resentment towards my friend stems from the fact she addresses me as “hey girl” like 1. not a girl 2. if I told you that I would immediately be in serious danger seeing as you’re radically christian and we live in south dakota.

[d33pwithinmys0ul]

One Shot For Pondhue Rick Sanchez x Reader Fluff

I hope this doesn't format weird, but I've been doing one shot fanfic for art trades, this is my first finished one! If you're interested go ahead and dm me but I've got lots to tackle.

I love @pondhue's art, be sure to check them out, this is what they requested, enjoy :)

“Summer!” Morty yelled up the stairs in an exasperated voice. Both his hands are clenched on the straps of his backpack. “I-I’m gonna be late for math, Mom said we have to walk together this time.”

You were cross legged on the recliner as you watched her bound down the stairs with a pink zippered pouch in hand. 

“Don’t act like you give a shit about your education Morty, it’s not a good look for you.” She rolls her eyes in his direction and hands you the pouch. “You can use anything but Funny Bunny and the glitters. See you tonight!”  She was out the door before you could even say thank you. 

“She’s fuckin’ killing me, y/n.” Morty gave a frustrated huff. The door slams shut and you stifle a laugh.

You almost slide off of the recliner in favor of the floor, then go through Summer’s nail stuff. The polish bottles all clink against one another gently. 

It was empty and quiet. The Beths and Jerry had said something about a galactic honeymoon before being cut off by disgusted groans from Rick and the kids. It was an easy job to take.

You turn on the TV for some background noise, and decide to pick your favorite color.  

House sitting seemed unnecessary for the Smiths, but it would be nice to be around Rick more in light of your recent “exclusivity.” Rick’s chosen word, not yours. It was kinda sweet, you supposed.

You start with your left hand, laying it flat on the coffee table. It was fun, and soothing. 

Exclusive was a nice term, you think. Not too distant, or too territorial. He respected you.

You were starting another finger when you heard the familiar warp of a portal materializing in the kitchen. 

God, Rick was noisy. Every box and bottle in the fridge resounded as if he were taking inventory, he hacked and coughed every few seconds. Was he aware that you were here? Was he trying to make a point, like you had to acknowledge his presence first?

You continue without a word. Maybe you could do your toes too? Should you match, or pick another color?

Your mouth twitched as you saw him from the corner of your eye. He plopped himself down on the couch, adjacent to your spot on the floor, with a drink in his hand. He burps and changes the channel. 

There was a comfortable silence, only the noise of different shows and commercials, human looking humans, nothing you’d usually see on interdimensional cable with him. 

Rick drapes his arm on the back of the couch. “Y-you gonna join me?”

“In a little bit, I’m almost done,” you said.

He grunts in reply.

Why was he being so quiet, almost shy?

You finished your last finger, waving them around a little to dry. You look back up at the TV, and literal shit is being spread on a bagel. 

“Jesus,” you automatically cringe and turn to Rick, “Why?”

“Poop deli,” he shrugs and takes a big swig of beer.

“That.. Is not–romantic,” you said.

He snorts but changes the channel anyway. “I didn’t realize you needed wooing right now, sweetheart.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“Who said I needed it?” You say incredulously, flapping your hands to dry your nails faster. You know you looked silly and laughed a little as soon as you started.

“‘S a good color on you,” Rick almost mumbles, vaguely gesturing to the little set up of polish and remover, and all the other contents of Summer’s pouch on the coffee table. 

“Thank you.” You slide the nail stuff across the table and sit on the carpet next to Rick’s foot. “Maybe you could join me?”

“On the floor?” Rick’s voice almost reflected your own earlier regarding ‘poop deli.’

“It won’t kill you,” you said. “I was hoping I could do your nails too?” You almost didn’t ask, but you were curious. Sure, Rick usually gave most things shit, but you’d like to think you were his soft spot. 

“And what are you thinking, exactly?” He squints at you almost mockingly. He lowers himself smoothly onto the floor next to you.

“How about…” Your hand hovers over a few different bottles in Summers collection. “Lincoln Park After Park,” you said and handed him the bottle. 

“I’m—eughhh–’m not wearing purple.” He said flatly. He places it on the table and takes another swig of beer. 

“It’s basically black,” you scoffed. “I think it’s pretty. You’re lucky I don’t want to do the whole damn nail routine on you. I’m sure your cuticles are atrocious.”

Rick exhaled sharply through his nose, and rolled his eyes dramatically and splayed his large, bony hands out on the coffee table. “Before I change my mind.” 

You smile with satisfaction and scoot closer to him, going from sitting to kneeling. Tall bastard. You almost get poked by his knee as he crouches in an almost frog-like position, you laugh at the look on his face as you untwist the bottle. You give him a quick kiss on the cheek right before he starts complaining.

“That is a purple tinge,” he insists, emphasizing the color. 

“It’s black,” you set the bottle on the table and grab his hand. You start on his pinky finger, feeling the rough skin of his palm. “It’s not permanent, don’t be a child.”

“I’m aware of the properties of Earth nail polish,” he uses his free hand to take a swig of his beer, which almost spilled all over the carpet. “Forgive me for being a little more s–eughh-selective.”

“Earth nail polish?” You laugh. “So there’s alien versions, you mean?”

“Obviously. More durable and vibrant iterations of this shit. Think of that blackest black bullshit, but better. And it doesn’t stink. Just an obvious superiority of the wonders of the galaxy over puny mundane humanity.” His lab coat collar was wonky and he didn’t sound too serious about the last part.

“Mhm,” you said as you spaced his pinky away and moved onto his ring finger, careful not to smudge your own. “And how’d you get so familiar with galactic cosmetics?” He shrugged. “Old band days. I’ve told you about this before,” his eyebrow furrowed.

You could see a little bit of the purple tint as you finished another nail. 

“Drunken rants barely count as telling me,” you said. “The Flesh Curtains,” you said with a flourishing stroke.

“Th-this, it’s the first time since then I’ve gotten my nails painted,” he said, a little surprised at himself. “Bit of bird DMT and common sense is m-euguhghh-more than enough to overcome, fuckin gender societal bullshit.” He was watching your hands, one painting, the other keeping his still. “If you paint it all over the fingertip it’ll come off in the shower. Don’t exactly shower much at Birding Man, though.”

“That’s where you guys met, right?” You asked.

“Mhm,” Rick said. “Thirty somethin’ and didn’t give much of a fuck to do shit else. Just shows and drugs and all the usual rockstar bullshit. I was young. BP gave me a guitar and we were too shitfaced to stop ourselves.”

“Bird Person doesn’t seem the musical type,” you say as you take his other hand and dip the brush into the bottle of polish. “That’s pretty cool.”

“He’s a fuckin’ genius.” He waves his free hand. “Bird planet stuff gave him a natural advantage, I think. Heavy into classical. Would’ve been a w–eughhh–waste, -i-if he never did anything with it.”

“So what kind of music did you make?” You asked, smiling. You were trying not to seem too enthusiastic. You didn’t think he’d be so willing to open up. 

“Eughh–it was the eighties, I think, don’t fuckin’ remember too much. Rock, nu metal. For a bit we used an invention of mine with an algorithm that c-cal-calibrated the data from other successful rock acts across the known universe to write songs for us, bullshit like that. Didn’t work out. BP almost got us to do new-wave, n-eughh-not my cup of tea.” He takes his flask from his lab coat pocket. 

“Squanchy didn’t want that either. Too hyperactive. We found him squanchin’ backstage by the drumkit when we wanted to crash the festival, so that role for him happened naturally. I don’t think you’ve met him. When we were on the road I’d have to sing him to sleep while I drove cuz BP would just pass out. If Squanchy didn’t get a goddamn lullaby he’d have to squanch to go to bed, and that was when I actually gave a shit if my ship was clean..”

“I advise you to restrain your speed. Breaking Blimmyjink highway laws will further delay our performance,” Bird Person said in his monotone voice.

“I swear to fucking god, I’ll eject you into the vast emptiness of space if you spill that goddamn beer!” Rick yelled over his shoulder while keeping his eyes on the road. He coughed and hacked before narrowly swerving around another vehicle. 

They worked real hard to get a gig at the Celestes, and he wasn’t going to let shit ruin it. Rick growled a little as he forced himself to ease up on the gas pedal. 

“I didn’t spill squanch!” Squanchy whined.

“Should’ve brought my damn portal gun, you stupid fucks,” he barked at the other members in the car. “U—eughh-unbelievable.”  Rick had thought that a road trip-esque approach to a few of their gigs would create some type of positive relationship without too many drugs involved.

The galactic highway had too much traffic for a Thursday night, they had a shit time slot. He weaved in and out of lines of other ships and cars, speeding to get to the venue. His glass beer bottle nearly tipped over in the cup holder, before his bandmate caught it with a feathered hand.

“You’re in distress,” BP observed. 

“You deserve a medal,” Rick muttered.

“What seems to be the issue?” Bird Person persisted. 

“We need time t-to set up. No fuckin’ brainer. Even with the damn Band in a Box mechanism every .5 seconds counts in this GODDAMN TRAFFIC!” Rick yelled and honked his horn. 

The driver in front of him extended a tentacle out of their window.

“Is he flipping me off?” Rick asked, glancing at his cat-like drummer in the back seat. 

“Nah, he’s just giving you the squanch. Could be way worse, Rick.” Squanchy replied before chugging the rest of his drink, his feet kicked up on the drivers seat.

“Paws down asshole, you’ll sing yourself to sleep tonight,” Rick said through gritted teeth.

“Your voice is slightly hoarser than usual.” Bird Person said. “Perhaps your agitated state is creating strain on your physical health.”

“Only by 20.8%, which literally d-eughh-doesn’t matter,” Rick quipped. “This is a really important show, you know that.”

BP rifled through his satchel made of leaves and other stupid shit Rick didn’t see the point in before. He pulled out an unusually large acorn. 

“It is infused with healing syrups and herbs from my home planet. I insist.” He handed it to him when they slowed to a stop at a light. “It may soothe you.”

“What-am-am I supposed to eat this like an apple?” Rick's eyebrow arched before glancing back at the road.

“If by apple you imply a hand sized, edible food source–”

“Whatever,” Rick grumbled and took the acorn begrudgingly.

“Thank you for giving me your trust,” his bandmate replied.

The show at the Celestes had been a hit. It helped them book other gigs–turns out there were some good connections to make on a random Thursday night. Rick wasn’t on vocals that show, but he felt a lot better. He got so drunk that he crowd surfed and shit his pants in a broom closet. 

“We ended up having a p-pretty decent sized fan base on Blimmyjink even after we disbanded. Pers didn’t neutralize any of the tannins in that acorn, though,” Rick said with a laugh. “Tasted like shit.”

You were almost done with his second hand, almost wishing you could stall so he wouldn’t stop talking.

It was really nice of him to speak more about his past, considering Rick wasn’t very comfortable with his backstory, or a lot of what happened before he and Morty moved to this dimension. You could tell he was really trying. 

“That seems really fun. It would be nice to meet Squanchy sometime.” You put away the polish and rubbed his shoulder. “I didn’t realize you and BP had been so close. He doesn’t seem like the type to paint his nails.”

Rick scoffs. “Yeah, no thanks to me. They wanted to be lame and go onstage as they were, like f-fuckin’ Weezer or something. It was fun styling everyone. I had pierced ears back then too, we were so fuckin’ drunk–shit was lopsided.” 

He rolled his eyes and pressed a button on his watch, careful not to smudge his nail. 

A little holo projection appeared of an old picture you’d seen before. Rick, Bird Person, and Squanchy on stage. Fire effects erupting by the drumset, Bird Person with his wings displayed powerfully behind him, Rick lost in thought as his face contorted while striking the strings of his instrument. 

“Wow, yeah. You guys look amazing,” you try not to giggle a little at Rick’s get up. You hadn’t seen it in detail like this before— spiked leather bracelets, a skull on his belt buckle, the loosest, skinniest tank top that was as far away from his chest as possible, and a choker around his neck. Jesus Christ. What a choice, what a man.

“Clearly I was the o-eughh-only one that actually looked good,” Rick said with a wink. “But it was some good shit. We never made any money doing it. But we had some good memories.”

Rick's hands were both free as the nails dried, so he used them more as he talked. “That time in my life w-was a goddamn free for all. I trusted BP for no good reason when I’d been bitter and angry for years. We all almost wrote a whole album that night, after Birding Man, but Squanchy drunk pissed all over my equipment and we lost the files.”

“And drunk Rick didn’t waterproof his stuff back then?” You ask dubiously. 

“I–eughh–I think I can say I was a lesser man back then.” He said with a shrug.

“Do you miss it?” You ask.

“Loose shirts, shittier tech, different mindset back then. I don’t regret it, but I was...just running from a lot of shit. It was escapism. Every musician is disturbed, art is mental illness, whatever bullshit you wanna . I-I think I needed it.” He said fondly. “I’m a little less likely to do donuts in a Blimmyjink parking lot these days.”

The TV hums quietly in the background and you take in the natural pause. 

You take his hand cautiously, admiring the fit of yours with his, the new polish on your nails. “Thank you for giving me your trust.”

He brings his palm to your cheek and kisses your forehead.

[herejusttosufferalong]

Ok, this is me just spitballing in my delulu, so please humor me…N is incredibly private, like crazy and successfully private. The LAST thing she’d want to do would be use a romantic relationship to promote a job. I’m thinking back to the Shonda Land article where the reporter (Valentina?) wrote she wasn’t entirely convinced the people in front of her (N&L) weren’t in love. I think it’s highly probable that there is absolutely something there, but she (or both) of them refuse(d) to either go there or acknowledge it while they knew they/Polin would be center stage. N dealt with that by being booked and busy for 2023 and L dealt with it by having his now infamous f*** boy summer and falling into a new relationship that potentially was just supposed to be a fun rebound, but has become much more complicated. If we run with this theory, then feelings coming up, blurred lines and complicated dynamics all make sense popping up on the PR tour. It also makes sense that N would hold an even firmer line. As people have said though, we’re all only human and things happen. I’m not personally on the side of them hooking up in Brazil, but I do see how different things were there. The main difference I saw was it was literally the only time L EVER said anything complimentary about N that wasn’t just about her as a scene partner (I don’t see why people always say he is so supportive of her…I don’t see it, but I’d love to be proven wrong though!) You could see how much she liked it too.

L was different in Ireland as well. The interview where he is so happy to be wearing N’s fav outfit of the tour is beyond adorable. London was a switch in so many ways. Not sure if anyone else picked up on the fact that it was the only time they didn’t go arm in arm onto or off of the stage. My guess is because A was in the audience. I don’t know if L put his foot down and chose A or if there was just awkwardness and non-acknowledgement so he chose the easy path forward with her or maybe N put her foot down. We’ll never know, but I really hope there is some sort of resolution cause (like everyone else) I can’t help but see how amazing N&L could be together. Anyways, that’s my delulu rant for now!

I don't quite agree with everything here but thanks for sharing!

Love having all the different perspectives and seeing all the little details some people pick up on that others don't.

Really appreciate it!

[eddysocs]

Reno And Recovery — Donna Sheridan x OC

Summary: When a summer flu puts Donna out of commission, it’s up to Lola to finish their reno project before summer's end.

Word Count: 608

Warnings: None

Lola wiped her brow, glancing over at Donna, who was curled up in a deck chair with a blanket draped over her. The summer sun blazed down on the Greek island, but Donna was shivering, clearly in no shape to work. Lola sighed as she looked at the half finished renovation project before her.

Donna and Lola had taken on the new challenge of updating an old guesthouse on the outskirts of the island. It was supposed to be their big summer project, a little bit of hard work and a little bit of fun, but that plan came to a screeching halt when Donna came down with a nasty summer flu. Now, the once lively work site was quiet, save for the sound of Lola’s tools and Donna’s occasional cough.

“Don’t look at me like that, Lola. I’m fine. I can still help,” Donna called out, trying to stand up but wobbling slightly.

“Absolutely not, Donna!” Lola said, rushing over to guide her back into the chair. “You need to rest. I can handle this.”

“But you can’t do it all alone,” Donna protested, her voice raspy.

“I can, and I will. You’ve done enough heavy lifting —both literally and figuratively— around here. It’s time someone took care of you for a change.”

Donna tried to argue again, but Lola gave her a stern look that silenced any further protest. This no nonsense side of Lola was something Donna secretly admired. With a final pat on the shoulder, Lola headed back to work, determined to pick up the slack while Donna recovered.

The next few days were a blur of sweat, determination and endless running back and forth for Lola. From sanding down old beams to patching up cracks in the stone walls, she tackled each task with precision and focus. But she also made sure to check on Donna regularly, bringing her cold drinks, adjusting her pillows, and even making her some soup from a recipe she found in an old cookbook. Donna grumbled about feeling useless, but Lola saw the gratitude in her eyes.

By the end of the week, the guesthouse was starting to take shape. The walls were painted and smooth, the roof patched up, and the place looked like it was ready to be lived in. But more importantly, Donna was finally looking like herself again. The fever had broken, and her energy was slowly returning.

“Looks like you’re feeling better,” Lola said with a smile as Donna wandered into the guesthouse.

“All thanks to you,” Donna replied, surveying the progress with both pride and surprise. “You really did all this on your own?”

“Well, I had a pretty strong motivator,” Lola joked, nudging Donna gently. “But now that you’re back on your feet, maybe we can finish up together, this time with you taking it easy.”

Donna laughed, a sound that was music to Lola’s ears after days of worried silence. “I think I can manage that.”

As the two women put the finishing touches on the renovation, there was a new sense of understanding between them. Donna had always been the strong, independent one, but now she realized that it was okay to lean on someone else. And Lola, in turn, learned just how much she was capable of when it really mattered.

“Next time, let’s take on a project that doesn’t involve overworking yourself,” Lola suggested as they sat on the porch of the newly renovated guesthouse, looking out at the sunset.

“Deal,” Donna agreed. “We do much better as a duo.” Lola nodded, satisfied. The summer hadn’t gone as planned, but they’d made it through together, as always.

For @sicktember

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @kmc1989, @curious-kittens-ocs, @fanficanatic-tw, @gcthvile, @kenjioharashotspot, @immyowndefender

Lola Marsh: @freshmoneyalmondathlete

[1d1195]

I feel like it has gone by quickly?? But at the same time THE CONCEPT OF TIME IS SO WEIRD TO ME I SERIOUSLY DONT KNOW ANYMORE LOL and Friday I was a bit busy :( it was a friends birthday so I out! But trust me I was ITCHING to pull up tumblr, read and talk to you! You know I love your book recs! And honestly that book sounds creepy! But you’re right I probably would end up reading it and liking it! Definitely added to my list! But I am surprised that you read it solely because you like “easy reads” , things that basically aren’t too stressful! Glad it wasn’t horrible though lol

I SERIOUSLY CANT LOOK THAT MAN IN THE EYES😭 when i turned in my exam to him my heart was beating out of my chest! And UGH IM A SUCKER FOR A HEIGHT DIFFERENCE LIKE MY BRAIN GOES CRAZY!! And idk he’s such a hot DILF lol and YES I DID SEE THOSE HARRY PICS AND I SWEAR I FELT LIKE DROPPING ON MY KNEES FOR THAT MAN😵‍💫😩 he looks so good it makes my head all fuzzy lol

Trust me I WAS CRAZY TOO!! All I wore were band t shirts and merch during my emo phase like I had no normal clothes or clothes that weren’t from hot topic bahaha and honestly I see why you were team Edward! I FINALLY saw the Twilight movies this past summer for the first time! I was never drawn to it when it was popular or the books BUTTTTT if I did have to chose I would have been team Edward lol there was no competition in the first place lol and yes I knew ALL the emo bands lore and stuff! Specifically twenty one pilots’s lore which is all lot lol but taht was like when i was 11 lol now i simply CANNOT due to lack of brain power lol

ANOTHER COUPLE MIGHT BE GETTING ENGAGED?! HELLO?! IM GONNA CRY FOR SURE!! And I’m sure part 4 will be great! You’re really great with coming with such detailed and unique! And you take such classic tropes and give your spin on it! I genuinely think you’re so talented Sam!

What’s crazy is that in my head I call you “ Samantha” when you literally do something crazy in your stories or like make me giddy?? Like “omg SAMANTHA!!!?” Idk if any of that made sense lol anyways Noah would have been cute! But Kyle is definitely more of a frat boy name lol and yeah I know about icebreaker never read it but I’ve definitely seen the girlies go crazy over it lol

My Kyle is literally so sweet! I met him at my schools IT services thing and he helped me out! Then I saw him again and he’s very nice!

And you know I love your long responses and I love you!!!-💜

HAHAHAHAHA I TALK TO MYSELF ALL THE TIME. I CONSTANTLY say “get it together Samantha.” That’s hilarious. I love that! If you’re inclined you gotta let me know which part/line in particular you do that for every once in a while 😭😂💕 please do not apologize for having friends and plans and being social. I’m glad you went out! That sounds like fun! My best friend and I are November birthdays so we celebrate the whole month of our births (our significant others LOVE it almost as much as we do, obviously).

The book was SO CREEPY. Stress level 12/10. So OBVIOUSLY I know the deeper meaning behind “don’t judge a book by its cover” but I’ve literally never picked up a book without judging its cover. Or at the very least the back cover. I’m pretty close with my sister so I often give books about sisters a thorough twice over. ALL THIS TO SAY I had no idea what it was going to be about when I picked it up hehehehe

Omg I could cry. Height difference, DILF, unable to look him in the eyes ughhhh I will also cry. I’m swooning just thinking about it 😭 I gotta write a professor/TA situation one of these days 😍😍😍

I don’t think I had an emo phase. A pseudo emo phase for sure. I never got into bands the way I was supposed to (but if I hear Fall For You I turn into a puddle). I’m obsessed with the image. I am spiraling at the idea you only saw Twilight last summer. I went to the midnight premieres I’m CRYING 😂

I have a lot of ideas in my head but they all boil down to happily ever after, marriage, 2.5 kids, and a white picket fence. I feel bad yall gotta keep reading the same story over and over 😂

Okay Kyle def is more of a frat name that was also what I thought when I switched it over. Noah was too cute I think hehehe maybe another story.

OBSESSED WITH YOUR KYLE MEET CUTE. CAN’T WAIT TO WRITE ABOUT IT 😍💕

Have a lovely start to your week bestie! 💕💕

Xoxo

P.s. Don’t read my update tomorrow if you’re having a good day lol I have been struggling with seasonal depression (I think it’s just regular depression actually at this point. But ya know) I am being dramatic honestly. Please don’t worry about me but regardless I’m probs going through an emo phase NOW hahahahahaha so it’s a little bit of a tear jerker imo

[house-of-slayterr]

The littlest Firefly:

An: More backstory for our fave Blinky

Cw: use of the N word

@vincent-sinclair-deserved-better @myers-meadow-selfship @oceansrose2002

Blinky’s POV:

Six months. Half a year I’d been with the Firefly family. My family. It felt much more official now, something natural. Like I’d never known anything else. It’s was comforting. But being a Firefly wasn’t all roses and sunshine, far from it actually.

But did I even want that? A life like that no longer seem achievable, and hardly desirable. Who wants to be a pretty princess, cooped up in a stuffy tower, waiting on a prince to come save them. It was much better to play the prince. That’s what I decided on today. I fashioned myself a little crown out of the old newspaper Grandpa was done with. There was a little blood stain on one of the corners where he killed a mouse with it, but I didn’t mind.

I had my hair up in two big puffs, it was much too hot in the texas summer now for me to have my hair down. There was just so much of it. Baby had helped me with my hair, giving me little purple ribbons to tie it up with. I placed the crown on my head, pining it down with bobby pins. Such an odd name for a little trinket.

I had much more clothes now. Otis had stolen some from a young girl who was backpacking across texas. A strange choice for hiking, but who was I to judge. It wasn’t a hobby I knew much about. I preferred indoor hobbies, like origami that I used to make my new crown. I decided I would show it off with a pretty outfit. There was a small yellow dress at the back of my closet, a little shorter than I usually wear, but I didn’t mind.

I paired it with some striped black and white socks, and the new shoes Mama had gifted me. She said my old ones were hideous. And I guess she was right, there wasn’t much shoe left to them. These were much more hardy, they reminded me of Otis’s work boots and that’s why they were my favourite. I sometimes like to mimic his heavy walking and stomp around in my brown combat boots when nobody was home. He was always so angry, and he looked a little silly with his brows furrowed. It left a permeant wrinkle on his face.

I zipped up the boots and checked myself in the old cracked mirror in the corner, but something was missing. Tiny had picked me some flowers last week, little daisies he found on the side of the road. I plucked one from the vase and snapped the stem, shoving the now shorter flower into the side of my left poof. Perfect. I gave a little twirl, giggling to myself as the room got blurry. I flopped down on my bed to steady myself, a tiny point of my crown bending a little. But I didn’t mind, it added character.

I had to show Baby. I skipped down the hall, following the sound of rock music to her room. I knew she wouldn’t hear if I knocked, so I slowly peaked the door open to make sure she was decent. I didn’t want a repeat of last time I bathed into her room. I watched as Baby danced along to the music, she always made dancing seem so easy. She looked effervescent. She turned around, and stopped when she noticed me, smiley wildly.

“We’ll aren’t you adorable today.”

“I’m adorable everyday” I responded cheekily.

“You’re right, my mistake my lord.” She did a mocking literally curtesy.

“I’m a prince actually. They’re quite different.”

She chuckled.

“No makeup today? I suppose they don’t usually wear any do they?” She asked, turning down the music.

I was thankful she’d noticed I was getting mildly overstimulated. I never wanted to ask her to be quiet, it didn’t seem right. And it wasn’t fair to her, especially when she was having so much fun.

“We’ll maybe I’m not a normal prince, not if the princess wants to do my makeup.”

I held out my hand, asking for hers. She placed her hand in mine and I kissed the back of it. She was positively giddy.

“Hmm, let’s think. What if we put little stars on your cheek? And some yellow eyeliner to match that pretty dress if your Prince Blinky.”

“Stars?!”

She nodded her head.

“And does the Princess get stars too?”

“Of course!”

She still held my hand, leading me to sit on her bed.

“Let me go get your face paint box. You still got some left right?”

I nodded.

“Spaulding didn’t like the paint he got last time, said it made his skin itchy.”

She frowned.

“It doesn’t make your skin itchy right?”

“Nuh uh.”

I kicked my feet back and forth as I waited for her to come back. My smile returning as she entered the room. Baby’s personality was contagious.

“Alright what colours do you want today, you seem to be in a very colourful mood.”

I thought to a second.

“Just yellow and purple to match my ribbons please. Don’t want to over do it.”

“Oh yes, the only person allowed to be over done in this house is Mama. Did you see the new robe Spaulding gifted her?”

“The one that’s baby pink?”

“Mmm” she hummed.

“I think it makes her skin look pretty.”

“And did you tell Mama that?”

“Not yet, I got nervous.”

She chuckled lightly.

“Alright eyes closed, no peeking!”

“None?”

“Might have to claw your eyes out if you do.” She teased.

“But my eyes are my best feature?”

I looked up at her, my eyes shinning brightly for emphases. They were far more expressive then the rest of my face. Sure I smiled a lot now, but it was a learned behaviour. It felt so weird, and kinda hurt at first, my face muscles sore at the end of the day. But for the most part, I remained neutral, just smiling with my eyes most times.

“And don’t you forget it.” She booped my nose:

She was different than me than with the others. She was almost constantly getting in petty fights with Otis. But it seemed she liked having another “girl” around. I don’t know what I was, but girl never really felt right. But I liked pretty things, and girls had the prettiest things. And if being used as a living doll made Baby and Mama happy, I’d gladly do it.

“Now close your eyes Blinky.”

I obeyed easily. I was no longer nervous in her presence. Not like when I first got here. I let my mind wander as she painted my faces, speckling little stars on my cheeks. I kept thinking to the story of the prince I’d been reading. He was strong, fierce, but shorter than his brothers, younger too. The last in line for the throne. No one thought he’d amount to much until he rescued the rival kingdoms Princess from the evil dragon. Sure, the way I described it sounded like a children’s story. But it was quite gruesome, many before him has died horrible deaths, being torn apart, burned or eaten but the fearsome dragon.

I believe the book was marketed toward young adults. They’re were many encounters of sex with the other brothers, but I didn’t much care for that part of the story. And when the little prince rescued the princess, they were betrothed to be married to save their two kingdoms. A wedding to bring enemies together. A wedding which ended in the beheading of the cruel king, the one who’d ignored his son, and by the hands of his daughter in law none the less. An act of love and devotion to her new husband who has suffered at the cruel hands of a king who was unfit to rule a kingdom. As she held up the head of the once feared king, the kingdom cheered for their new leader.

“Long live the King!” They all chanted.

And that was where the book had ended. And ending which I’m not quite sure I would describe as happy. It was good, satisfying even, but there was something about it that seemed so strange. I wondered what would become of the little prince and his new queen. Do they live happily ever after, or was he doomed to ruin her, and befall the same fate as his father. Could people be different, change? Would he ever unlearn the behaviours and habits forced onto them by family?

“Blinky, you’re scrunching.” Baby said, slightly annoyed.

“Oh.” Was all I said, trying my best to relax my facial muscles.

“What ya thinking about in that smart Brain of yours huh?”

I fidgeted with my hands.

“Do you think people can change Baby?” I asked.

I didn’t dare open my eyes, but I did lean forward slightly when I didn’t feel her hands or the cool brush on my face.

“Course they can. People change all the time, you have.”

“I have?” I asked.

Maybe it had gone unnoticed, a subtle change over time. But my memory wasn’t too good, I always forgot certain things. Like what I looked like when I first got here. But I remembered stupid things, useless things. Like the first book Otis had ever gifted me. Or Tiny’s favourite food. Or Mama’s favourite perfume. I knew a lot about them now, but I didn’t really know a lot about me. I didn’t like to think about me much. Every-time I did I’d only get sad again.

“Mmhmm.”

“Could you tell me how?” I asked.

“Well, I guess you’re less shy. You don’t hide as much anymore. And your style, that changes every week. You’re less squeamish too, don’t mind the blood and the mess so much no more.”

“Hmm” I hummed.

Maybe I could change. Maybe the Prince could. But was it a good change? That was an entirely different question.

“And done!” She proclaimed proudly.

“Can I see?”

“Yes Blink, you can open your eyes now.” She sassed.

She held up a tiny little pocket mirror. My eyes looked a little bigger, the yellow complimenting the dark drown. Well I’m wasn’t sure if that was the right word for it, they were almost black, unless under harsh lighting. And the undertones were more red. But whatever they were, the yellow was nice, like the centre of the daisy in my hair. And the little stars complimented everything perfectly. I felt like the cutest prince in the whole world.

“I love it!” I exclaimed happily.

“Of course you do!”

Baby was confident, in everything she did. Some people may think it comes off as arrogant, but I thought it was endearing. She was a princess who didn’t need saving, like the one who changed at the end of my story. No longer being docile and quiet, and choosing instead to cause a ruckus and stake her claim on life.

“Now, help me pick my outfit for the day.”

“Ok.”

Baby was more of a blue jeans, tiny shirt kinda of gal. But she did own a few dresses. I spotted a purple dress in her closet and instantly pulled out out.

“We could match.” I offered a small smile.

“I knew there was a reason we kept you around Blink.” She smirked.

She turned around to and started to strip and I blushed, throwing myself into the pillow to avert my eyes. Baby was comfortable with a herself, which I was glad for, but I swear sometimes she did this stuff on purpose. She shimmied into the dress and when I thought enough time had passed I looked up again. She was sitting at her vanity, tying her hair into little pigtails to match my puffs.

“Wanna return the favour?” She asked, holding out a makeup brush.

I nodded and quickly made my way over, kneeling by the chair so I would get to her face. Her makeup didn’t take nearly as long as mine. I kept it simply with a light purple eyeshadow and a dark purple cat eye wing. Baby never wore lipstick much so we just put on a light gloss. I stuck my tongue out in concentration as I evened out the wings.

“There, done.”

“Wanna go show off to the family?” She asked.

I nodded, grabbing her hand as we made our way to the kitchen. It was a little loud with Spaulding crinkling his paper, Mama watching a Tele Novela over his shoulder on the tv, an Otis cooking up breakfast. I wasn’t sure where Grandpa and Tiny were at the moment.

“We’ll don’t you two look perty.” Mama complimented.

“Thanks Mama” Baby did a little twirl to show off her dress.

“You look like a god Damn Girl Scout.” Spaulding said to Baby.

It was his way of attempting a compliment. He wasn’t very good at them. Worse than Otis actually.

“And what are you supposed to be?” He asked me.

“I’m the Prince of the purple kingdom!” I declared.

He let out a half huff, half laugh.

“Since when do prince’s wear dresses?” He asked.

I just shrugged, sitting down in my spot for breakfast.

“Your clothes seem to be fitting a little better sweetheart.” Mama commented.

“I blame Otis’s cooking.” I laughed.

It was strange always having so much food in the house. I’d grown so used to one meal a day, since forever. Otis made it clear I was free to eat anything in the house, and make requests on grocery day. Otis sent me a crooked grin over his shoulder.

“We’ll somebodies gotta cook around ‘ere” he teased.

Most of breakfast was in a comfortable silence as we all enjoyed the french toast and berries. Otis made eggs for everyone else, but I couldn’t stand them. He was offended the first time I turned him down, and I didn’t mean to make him feel insulated. I just couldn’t stomach eggs, they made me sick. I thought back to the first two months I was here, when I’d get sick so often after eating. My body wasn’t used to being so well fed. I think a gained about five pounds since I’ve been here.

“You’re with me today kid.” Spaulding announced as he got up to put his plate and coffee in the sink.

“Oh, ok.” I said.

I didn’t mind working down at the store, there was always something to keep busy. Rearranging things, cleaning the counters. It kept me busy, which made me feel helpful.

“Is Otis not working the gas station today?”

“Naw, I’ve gotta head into town to get some stuff to fix the damn shower. God Damn thing won’t stop leaking and it’s wasting water and money.”

I hummed, downing the last sip of my tea. I followed quickly after Spaulding so I wouldn’t be scolded for not keeping up. He gave instructions as we walked.

“You man the front, I gotta deal with this fucking delivery that’s a damn week late. I swear nobody gets shit right in this town.”

I chuckled slightly. He was always grumbling about something. It could be a perfectly fine day and he’d still find something to complain about.

“You got it boss man.” I said.

He stopped waking and rolled his eyes at me. I just shrugged and we made our way into the little corner store. The day would go by slow, as usual not many people came in. But as luck would have it, the little bell at the front door chimed. I looked up to see a girl who looked scarily like Darla. It almost made my heart stop, but I pushed it down. She was with a man, a little taller than her, jock type from the look of letterman jacket.

He looked around the store, pretending to be interested in random things.

“Can I help you sir?” I asked.

He finally looked my way, and I saw his body stiffen slightly and his nose scrunch up.

“What, is the pretty princess convention coming through town?” He jeered.

I frowned.

“Is there anything I can help you with.” I pushed forward, ignoring his Inappropriate little side comment.

“Yeah, this shithole got a manager?” He asked.

His accent was thick, possibly Georgian. Spaulding would be interested to hear this, people from out of town were easier as Otis explain to me. Less people to notice them missing.

“Sure, I’ll go get him.”

I hopped off my stool and ran off to the back of the store, finding Spaulding unpacking pallets of soda.

“Hey Cap?” I asked.

It was a nickname I’d taken to calling him, he didn’t seem to mind it.

“What the fuck do you want kid?”

It wasn’t hostile in tone, he just slipped swearwords into almost any sentence he could.

“Customer wants to talk.” I explained. “He and his girl are from out of town.”

“Are they now?” He said.

He placed the heavy tray of soda back down on the stack. He made a lead the way motion with his hand and I followed him to the front again. I lingered behind, leaning against the wall as I watched.

“What can I do ya for?”

“Wondering if there’s anywhere to get a car fixed around here. Damn thing broke down.”

“There’s a mechanic just up the road, but I could look at it.”

The man scoffed.

“Yeah, no thanks. I don’t want you anywhere near my truck.” He commented.

“That wasn’t very nice.” It slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

“The fuck do you know kid?” He turned back to Spaulding, “ain’t child labour illegal?” He asked.

I crossed my arms over his chest.

“Darren, be nice, these kind folks are trying to help us.” The girl spoke up.

“Did I ask for your opinion?” He snapped at her.

Definitely not very nice. I kinda felt bad for the girl, like I had when watching my brother and Darla. Why did pretty, smart girls fall for jerks like this? I could never understand. I wish I could create a diversion, help her escape. But I knew the drill, they were a package deal, and they’d already seen both of our faces.

“Which way to the mechanic old man?” He asked.

Spaulding just pointed, but not towards the mechanic, no, toward the house. We’re Mama and Baby we’re back home waiting. I wondered if Otis had even gotten back from the city yet. I watched as he shoved passed the girl and out the door, letting it slam behind him.

“Thanks for the help.” The girl offered.

I gave her a tight lipped smile. About half an hour had passed and I went to take a break outside for some fresh air. I leaned against the wall near the dumpster and just kinda stared down at my feet. Clicking then together to get my stims out before going back to work. I heard foot steps approaching and they seemed heavy. I thought for a moment maybe Spaulding came to ask for help with something, but I noticed the boy from earlier.

“Hey you, kid!” He started.

He seemed angry.

“I’m almost 18 I mumbled” annoyed then he called me that.

It was different when it was my family, but I didn’t like strangers treating me like a child. I could hold my own. I wasn’t helpless.

“What sort of games are you and baldy playing Hmm?” He asked as he got closer.

“Don’t call him that.” I said.

“Or what? Is it gonna hurt your feeling sweetheart? Maybe someone should teach you a lesson, wearing a short little skirt like that and flaunting yourself around while your old man fucks people over.”

I finally looked up at him, rage burning in my eyes.

“What did you just say?”

“Called you a slut, cause that’s what you are.”

He grabbed my arm harshly.

“Where the fuck is the damn mechanic?” He asked.

I shrugged, apparently that was the wrong move, cause he squeezed tighter on my arm. I glared up at him. He went to put his hand in my face, and without thinking I viciously bit into his hand. I heard him let out a yelp as I bit hard enough to draw blood. He yanked his arm away, dropping his other one too.

“Stupid nigger bitch, you bit me!” He exclaimed.

Before I could do anything, his fist connected hard right at the front of my face. I heard a crack and almost instantly felt warm blood trickle down my face. I think he broke my nose. I stumbled back a little, catching myself on the wall. As I went to lick my lips, I could taste the blood, and something fell onto my tongue, I spit it on the floor to see it was one of my teeth. I starred at it for a second in shock. He certainly knew how to throw a punch, probably got into a lot of fight in high school.

“Hey, bitch im talking to you!” He said, wrapping his hand around my throat.

I guess the ruckus must have gained Spaulding’s attention, cause I grinned up at the boy as he squeezed my throat.

“The fuck you smiling about?”

Before he could get out another word, Spaulding reached around and slit his throat. I felt warm blood spray on my face and closed my eyes and mouth, making sure I didn’t get any of it where it shouldn’t be. I didn’t need a nasty infection from this impish oaf.

“What the fuck were you thinking kid?” Spaulding yelled.

I flinched slightly.

“Please don’t yell at me.” I muttered.

He sighed exasperated.

“He could have killed you.”

“But he didn’t.” I reminded him.

“Shit, look at your face, Otis is gonna be pissed.”

I adjusted my now crooked crown back on my head, and spit out a mother glob of blood.

“I’m fine Spaulding, thank you for saving me.” I said.

“Don’t ever make me do that shit again ya hear?” He said

“Yes sir, won’t happen again.”

That I was sure of, I wouldn’t make the same mistake next time. Being on my own here could have ruined me, if Spaulding hadn’t been nearby.

“Fuck!” He groaned. “Blinky help me get him into the dumpster.” He said.

I nodded, quickly moving to throw open the top of it. I wasn’t sure how much help I would be, that man was nearly twice my size. But almost everybody was bigger than me. I grabbed his legs and helped Spaulding throw him over the top, then slammed the lid back down. By the time the trash people came, in this hot, moist environment, he’d be well on his way to decomposing.

“Inside, now.” Spaulding said shortly.

He was mad, that much was obvious. I didn’t hesitate, quickly doing inside and slipping into the back office where we had all the paperwork. We kept the first aid kit back here. I sat on top of the desk. Spaulding came stomping in a few minuets later.

“Called Mama, told her in sending you home early for the night.” He explained.

I nodded. He bent down to pick up the first aid kit, before quickly throwing me a cold water he’d taken from the front. I took a sip, swishing it around in my mouth, then spit it into the plant pot in the corner. Before taking another and letting it slip down my throat. It was refreshing, I hadn’t even realised I was getting dehydrated. I sat back atop the desk.

“Let me see.” He said.

I opened my mouth, and he moved my face side to side with his hand on my chin.

“Shit Blinky, he got you good.” He said.

“Yeah, don’t think I enjoyed that very much” I chuckled.

“Nothing we can do about the tooth, and your busted lip with heal. But I’m gonna have to set your nose.” He said.

I nodded.

“It’s gonna hurt like a bitch.”

“Ok.”

I closed my eyes as I felt him touch the bridge of my nose. I winced a little. He didn’t even give me a warning before I heard it click.

“There, good as new. Now go head to the house and shower before Otis gets home, I don’t need that bastard on my ass about this. I’ll clean up the mess outside.”

“You sure you don’t need help.”

“Just get to the Damn house Kid.”

I nodded, running off toward the house. I was able to make it to the master bathroom before anyone saw me, I quickly stripped out of my clothes, knowing I’d have to burn them later. It was a shame, I liked this outfit. But they was no getting blood out of yellow, bleach or peroxide would just steal the dye. I turned on the water, waiting for it to heat up. Otis had yelled at me for this once, but what kind of psycho turns on the shower when they’re standing in it, the water that comes out first is always freezing.

I scrubbed away the blood, watching it go down the drain. I groaned as the adrenaline wore off. There was a small bruise forming from where his hand was, and the hot water stung a little when it hit my broken nose. I threw on a towel as I got out and looked in the mirror. The tooth to the left of my canine was missing. I suppose it added character. And if I ever made a friend I’d have a cool story to tell. I’d finally get to use the line “you should see the other guy.”

I opened the door and walked down the hall to my room. I slipped into one of Otis’s oversized band T-shirts and some old shirts Baby got me. I fixed up my hair, tossing it into one giant bun. Seems I made it just in time for dinner, cause I could smell the food from here. Otis turned around when he heard me say “what’s for dinner”

“I’m making spaget- Blink what the fuck happened to your face?” He asked.

He seemed shocked, but the shock quickly turned to anger.

“Tripped.” I shrugged.

I don’t know why I lied to him, I didn’t feel good about it. But I already got scolded by Spaulding and I didn’t really want to hear it again.

“Shit, Blinky how many times have I told you not to skip around everywhere. This is what you get.” He grumbled. “It hurt?”

“Not much.”

He paused and took a few step forward, grabbing my chin in his hand, and using the other one to open my mouth.

“Fuck, you’re missing a tooth.”

“It’s ok.” I said.

“How hard did you hit the ground you dumbass?”

It was supposed to come off as mean, but I knew him better now. He swore more when he was deflecting, trying to make it seem like he didn’t care.

“Think I might have cracked the pavement.” I joked.

“I’m gonna have to put you in a damn bubble I swear. Nothing we can do about that tooth.” He commented.

It was odd how he was just like Spaulding in that way. Two sides of the same coin with those two.

“Just set the table” he sighed.

“Ok.”

I would have to talk to Spaulding after dinner, make sure he kept our little secret. I didn’t want Otis finding out what happened today. He’d flip, and majorly so. If baby ever found out what that man called me, she’s also lose her mind. They were very overprotective in that way. Baby like a sweet, but scary aunt, and Otis the dad with a shotgun in hand at all times.

Baby greeted me by picking me up and spinning me around. I giggled, pleading with her to put me down.

“Shit, the fuck happened to you?”

“Tripped.” I lied again, it was easier this time.

She laughed loudly, and gave me a big grin.

“Didn’t think you could get any cuter kiddo, now look at that smile.” She said.

She always knew just what to say to cheer me up. Things were getting better around here and I hoped they continued like this. Yes, being a Firefly wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, but it was home. It was safe. And I was never gonna let anyone take this from me. I wouldn’t be without a family ever again if I had to kill every last person to keep it that way.

An: Despite being black, I didn’t use that word much. But house of 1000 corpses is a bit darker subject material so it felt appropriate to use here.

[overlyimmersed]

How Fairies Keep Time

This came from the constellation thing, kill me.

This is 100% headcanon. I had to frickin make this up myself after learning about how ancient cultures tracked time. This could go totally ignored by most since it's been established that Fairies are terrible at keeping time because they're so long lived.

But since my AU introduces the concept of a history keeper for the Fairy Clan, it would just make sense to also have a way of keeping time.

I don't want to use star charts for this because...the fuckin constellation thing...I'm not interested in learning about and renaming every star and constellation that can be seen from Scotland. And I don't exactly thing Fairies would be star trackers anyway, just culturally speaking. I don't doubt that Fairies like to stargaze as much as anyone else, but I don't think they think that hard about what they're seeing, yknow? I think it'd be more like the stargazing we see in the Lion King movies. This cluster looks like that, that one looks like this and it's all just fun and games.

So how would they mark time?

Well I do headcanon that the Fairy Realm and The Fairy King's Forest change throughout the seasons. I haven't illustrated that completely yet because there are images that need to be finished... But I do think the Forest looks different depending on the season. So they can mark the time of year by what's going on around them, like a game of Stardew Valley or something. Just like instant, overnight change to everything. And keeping track of seasonal cycles like that would make it easy to keep track of years, if it were, say, your entire JOB to pay attention to that kind of thing.

This wouldn't exactly tell a Fairy what day of the season it is, but since Fairies don't have agriculture or anything they don't exactly need to know when to plant and when to harvest and those kinds of things that ancient civilizations used this kind of time keeping for. That kind of specific date keeping probably isn't really necessary for them.

I do imagine they have holidays though, so maybe they do need some way of tracking days. But that's not too hard, lunar cycles work for that. 12 cycles in a year, 3 cycles per season. Knowing what phase the moon is in and when it was full last, combined by knowing what season you're in can tell you what day of the year it is.

So a Fairy putting today's date on something might look like "84th of Summer" or "3rd New, Summer". Roughly anyway. The new moon is in two days. Could say something like "3rd Half, Waning, Summer" or "3rd Crescent, Waning, Summer" since the current moon phase is technically a Waning Crescent. But if you just look up at the sky tonight the moon will probably look close enough to new that I don't know how much that specification matters.

As far as the year goes, it would depend on when the Fairies started keeping track of time, obviously. And I don't know when that be exactly. Whenever Gloxinia decided that was something he wanted to know I guess... probably whenever the Holy War started. It's only ever said 3000 years ago, but it's probably not literally that on the button, so I suppose I could pick just about any number between 3 and 4 thousand. I'll worry about that one if it ever comes up...

[spainkitty]

Carastian Candies (or you know, THAT Trope)

Lanil's Pieces Masterlist

"Carastian candies?" Lavellan repeated. Did she know what those were?

"Have you truly never had one?" Josephine asked, absolutely aghast as she clutched the box to her chest.

Lavellan frowned and slowly shook her head. "I'm not sure. But I'm sure they're excellent. I'm glad you'll be able to enjoy them, Josephine." She reassured her, hoping to end the look of horror on the Ambassador's face.

"Oh no, this won't do at all. You must have one. Please, I won't be able to enjoy a single bite knowing you've never had one!" Josephine quite literally begged, holding the box open over the war table.

"I thought you said 'from my cold dead hands'," Cullen asked, smile crooked and amused.

"Hush, you! Let the Herald try one!"

"This is a lot of pressure about a candy," Lavellan noted, neck prickling with sweat under Josephine's intense gaze.

She picked one up, determined to pretend to enjoy it if she had to, just so Josephine wouldn't cry. Or kill her. It was nice enough, strangely waxy and smooth, but nice and only subtly sweet. And then she crunched through the outer shell and moaned. Actually moaned as her eyes fluttered shut and her hand covered her mouth.

"It tastes like summer," Lavellan sighed.

"Yes! It's the orange liquor. Divine, absolutely divine!" Josephine gushed happily.

"Is the offer for prying them from your cold dead hands still on the table?" Lavellan asked dreamily.

Leliana laughed and gathered up her notes. When she looked up, Cullen was staring at Lavellan, face pink. Josephine followed Leliana's gaze and a sly gleam entered her eyes. Lavellan was still humming softly, lips pressed together to hold in the taste a little bit longer.

"Of course not, Your Worship. But you may have one more. Only one."

"You may continue living, I suppose," Lavellan said regally. Josephine giggled and held out the box again.

She didn't noticed Cullen swallow too hard and look away, hand over his eyes. Leliana and Josephine exchanged mischievous looks. Leliana decided to poke just a little more. It was too easy, but oh so fun, to tease the Commander.

"And you, Cullen? Wouldn't you like to try one?"

Cullen cleared his throat, shoulders squared. "If everything is all done here--"

"I can share this one with you? If you don't mind bite marks," Lavellan said, completely earnest.

Leliana couldn't have planned that better herself. Josephine pressed her fingers to her lips to hide her smirk. Poor Cullen choked and stumbled hurriedly to the door.

"I'm fine. Please, ladies, enjoy your--I'm going to go now."

Lavellan watched him, baffled, then shrugged. "More for me." Then, popped the candy in her mouth and moaned happily.

Cullen actually hit his own shoulder with the door and ran out, muttering to the Maker under his breath. Josephine sidled closer to Leliana and murmured quietly, eyes on Lavellan who was obliviously enjoying her mouthful, "You are a cruel, cruel woman, Nightingale."

"You're not so innocent yourself, Josie. But it is so deliciously delightful, isn't it? Varric has a bet going that Cullen will break first."

"Impossible. Lady Lavellan is the initiator, the Commander is much too shy."

"Are you in?"

"... what are the terms?"

"Good girl, Josie."

"I'll see you both later. Thank you again, Ambassador." Lavellan left the room, smiling a tiny, surprised sort of smile.

[rustedhearts]

rant. blah.

financial freedom is something i think we take for granted when we have it, but having the ability to just…buy things! like whenever you want! is something i miss and not having makes me feel like? not a person? like i can’t just go get in my car (because it doesn’t work) and drive to the store and buy something i need. i can’t take my car to go get fixed. i can’t decide i want something for dinner and then go buy it. i can’t get myself something small and disposable just to feel a little joy. i can’t replenish things i’ve been slowly running out of since may. i can’t repurchase things that broke. and sure, i never had a lot of money to begin with to just buy whatever, whenever—but i’ve never truly been at such a low point as this one where i can’t even get around and function. i cannot make doctors appointments without making sure i have a ride, so i have to wait and ask my mom which makes me feel like a child again, waiting around for someone else to pick me up, because i don’t have uber money and they’re so expensive to go even 20 minutes away which is where most things are. i’ve had to cancel so many appointments that i *needed* because i 1) have no way there or 2) have no way to pay the copay because my insurance honestly sucks

my physical health is beginning to mimic the mental and i feel so out of my own body and so trapped in it and most of the time even if i *can* go anywhere, i don’t want to because i don’t really want to be seen! and it sucks seeing my friends/classmates get such great jobs and go out on weekends and have a fun summer postgrad and while i’m happy for them, i’m a little bitter! because i haven’t really had a single good day since may. and every linkedin post someone i went to school with makes about their new position at a new company makes me literally want to choke, because i’ve gone on so many interviews, sent so many applications, so many follow up emails and phone calls—only to get ghosted or rejected. and then to be told i’m “interviewing” wrong by the people who are supposed to be supporting me and have no idea what it’s like to go to school for 4 years and not be able to find work?! ooooooh it makes me mad

but then i’m so angry and sad and tired all the time and i really don’t like how it feels in my body and i don’t like how it makes me feel at home, where i’ve been stuck for months, because i begin to resent my own space where i’m supposed to relax but really i also feel guilty and resent that “relaxation” because i worry every time that i sit and breathe and feel a little easy that i’m subconsciously my own problem for not trying harder when really i’ve been trying harder than i ever have in my entire life

[eating-flowerz]

R my ex before D is an interesting one. We were discord friends turned IRL friends and our relationship before I left for Poland was tumultuous but we’ve since made up and it’s water under the bridge.

It’s funny because there is a palpable tension present still when we’re around each other. I can tell he wants to bring me in for a kiss like old times and caress my hair. But that’s gone since we’ve broken up.

We hung out for the first time in a year since our break up and spent a day together catching up. It was great because we’re friends of 5 years. There was never a dull moment, we walked around town for 4 hours and just made fun of our surroundings. We people watched saying who’s clearly a Mitski fan and we narrated a young high school couple on their first date clearly.

It was fun and easy, the physical spacing was awkward and the vibe was us both trying to keep it platonic. I was still upset with D at that time but i think we both knew we needed to keep it platonic for the sake of us staying friends. If we kissed and he ever got a girlfriend he wouldn’t be able to say in good faith to his girlfriend that we’ve stayed just friends since breaking up.

But that was only a few times, I think I felt it the most when we were watching the sun set together on the beach, I know what a cliche. But I had taken the blankets from my car and we had sat right next to each other and in our selfie pick, our faces are right next to each other. In the fact like our cheeks are literally touching. I think I knew if I turned my eyes to look him in the eyes we would have kissed, he must have known it too, which is why I think we both focuses to heavily on the sun set.

Later that night I came thinking about our sex and used the photos of our nudes we never delete from Snapchat messages. Once those pics are deleted that’s when you know any chance of sex is done forever.

Everything was ok and comfortable, we’re supposed to go to a concert this summer and I’m possibly going to visit him and pop into Princeton for a day but those are all potential plans.

R and D are so different. D enjoys my humor and finds its entertaining but R actually partakes in it and adds on to my jokes. R texts back almost immediately and D is maybe in 12 hours type of guy. I love D everything is great with him, I’m typing all of this up at 3 am because it’s my naughty pleasure.

If anything I would really like them to meet each other because I think they would really get along but I doubt it’ll ever happen.

[finexbright]

Hii! Hope you're feeling better, sending more hugs your way!

Fun story about aam: i wasn't home for summer this time because I've been at uni and i was so upset about not getting proper mangoes where i am. Convinced my mom to freeze one for me. Went home almost 3 months after mango season and pulled out that frozen mango and it was, obviously, a disaster. Mum just stood there in the kitchen laughing, saying " i told you this wouldn't work, but now you can't say i didn't try". She did freeze some ras for me which lasted well, so at least i got that lol.

I'm so glad you have time to rest! I've just started hols from uni so it's been resting for me too. And I'm going over to a friend's for Christmas dinner. Which i love how ironic it is because all of us who've stayed back for these hols are people who don't celebrate Christmas 😂.

Also. How dare you ask people to pick one line of Louis' that we like best? One? One? How is anyone supposed to pick just one? Like. Impossible. I've had fitf on repeat for days now, so my favs keep changing lol, but the one that just came randomly to my mind was: nothing's ever easy, to be honest I'm not easy on myself. So yeah. It'll probably change and I'll leave you more in later asks.

no oh my god LISTEN i made my mum do that too. so i'm south indian and i've grown up eating alphonso mangoes (they're the best ones ever ever) but we don't really get them in delhi, and it's a whole thing (alphonso mangoes are only in season till like june-ish but the local delhi mangoes are in season till like august) and so we get alphonso mangoes delivered to us from our relatives and i made my mum put a couple in the freezer because i was gonna go home end of june and when we took it out, yeah it wasn't really a whole mango but more that it was scraps of 4 mangoes coming together but god was it worth it so incredibly worth it 🤧🤍

oh i hope you have a lovely time with your friends at the dinner! literally all my friends have gone home for christmas, even some of the people who don't celebrate went home cuz winter hols so i'm just bored out of my mind here. some of them are coming back in a couple days so and i have friends coming back for new years so excited for that 🫶

okay look, i love faith in the future to pieces and it's such a good album all around and i definitely have some lyrics that are close to my heart, but i honestly, truly don't think there's any lyric of his that will make me feel as tender and heart wrenched as "i hope that i'm not asking too much, just wanna be loved by you, i'm too tired to be tough, just wanna be loved by you" like every single day i wish i could listen to defenceless as if it were the first time and i beg him to keep that one on the setlist even though it doesn't really fit the vibe of the shows he's done so far 🤧

[theveryworstthing]

So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.

The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class.  I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.

I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.

Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.

10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.

The Parents

From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.

Or while it was still bleeding.

If she was into that.

Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.

Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.

And he always gets his due.

He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.

Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~

Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.

Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.

This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.

Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?

Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.

Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.

What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.

Mortesha would know.

The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.

Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.

The Children

Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.

Anyway.

Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!

Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.

Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got  natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.

I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace.  I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.

Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.

She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.

Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.

Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.  

That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.

Annnnyway.  This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.

[uncpanda]

The Ties that Bind: ER

Synopsis: Being the older sister of a literal genius? It’s not easy. Raising said genius from childhood on? An act of love. Uprooting your life again when he gets in over his head? A no brainer. Finding a new family and support system for yourself? Well, you suppose that’s just luck.

AN: This is part one of a three part where reader and Aaron finally start dating. I am thrilled about this, and super excited. PLEEEEAAAASSSSEEE Let me know what you think. 

WARNINGS: Talk of cheating, talk of sex (Nothing graphic), dealings with what I would classify as emotional trauma.  The return of Joel. 

Master List

“So, can I tell you just how happy I am that we’re doing this?” The smile that comes on your face is automatic anytime you’re around Penny. Your friendship with the woman had surprised even you. But in the two months since Haley’s death you had become the point person for the team to check in on Aaron and Jack. From there Penny had started calling you out of the blue just to talk, and after that lunch had become a must, and now you were partaking in the epitome of sealing a friendship: Shopping. 

Even if you absolutely hated shopping, Penny made it fun. She was so upbeat, and shamelessly herself, and you loved it. You loved it so much you were willing to brave shopping near the national mall. 

“You can, but something tells me I’m just as happy. It’s the first time in what feels like weeks I’ve done something frivolous.”

“That’s because it is. You have been working your tush off.” 

“I don’t know about that. I’m not working right now.” Penny rolls her eyes and a new voice says, “Because it’s summer. You deserve a break. And you are working, you’re pretty much taking care of Jack full time.” 

You smile, and open your arms, “Jessica! You made it, I was worried you wouldn’t!” 

“Aaron got home about an hour ago, and pretty much rushed me out the door, and told me to enjoy myself. Reminded me of my dad when I was a teenager. So I kissed Jack goodbye and headed straight over. Now, I just wonder how he knew.” 

All eyes go to you, and you shrug, “He invited me over for movie night, and I told him I had plans with you guys.” 

The girls share a look before Jessica says, “Okay. We’ll come back to this topic. I’ve got a credit card burning a hole in my pocket, and a desire for great food.” 

“We’re waiting on one more.” 

Both of their brows furrow, “Who?” 

“Me. Although how I was talked into this, I’ll never know.” 

You grin as Will’s southern drawl washes over the group, and Penny bounces over to him. Will had become another surprise friend. Mainly because the two of you texted religiously when Aaron, Spencer, and JJ were on cases. More often than not you got the boys together for playdates, or you’d pick up Henry if Will had to stay late at work. And from there friendship had bloomed and you’d become an honorary aunt to Henry. 

JJ and Spencer loved to tease the two of you about it, but Will was like the older brother you’d kind of always wanted; if only so you wouldn’t have had to handle everything on your own. 

“You know you’re happy to be invited.” 

He narrows a look at you, “I was promised Top Golf.” 

“As soon as Penny gets her shopping fix and Jess gets her lunch fix. You brought your car to drive there, right? Cause the rest of us took the metro.” 

He dangles the keys at you and you grin. 

You spend the next two hours going to a bunch of different stores. You don’t buy too much, just a few items here and there. Will is an active participant, and even buys some new shirts for himself and a book for JJ. Jessica buys some new Star Wars cookie cutters that you know she’ll use with Jack. Penny ends up with the most. Her arms are loaded by the end and you wonder exactly how much money the FBI pays. 

Most of the packages are for Henry and Jack. Something that makes you snort because Jack had more than enough toys and clothes. He’d hit a small growth spurt recently, and you and Aaron had taken him shopping. No less than five items had been Star Wars themed. And when they had started discussing random scenes in painstaking detail you had burst out laughing. You’d teased Aaron about being a nerd.  Not that you could talk, you were an English major, something that Aaron knew very well. He’d retaliated with your love for Pride and Prejudice and well, you’d ended up arguing about the merits of both in the middle of the clothing store until Jack had collapsed from laughing so hard. 

And everytime Penny pulls the godmother card in regards to Henry, Will playfully rolls his eyes. 

Lunch is at a rather fancy restaurant that Jessica loves but never gets to go to. She’s a rather large foodie and knows all the best places. The food is absolutely amazing. And while Penny and Jessica are engaged in conversation about something with computers Will leans over and says, “You know, I was an only child. And I always wanted brothers. All my friends had brothers and I was really jealous.” 

You smile, “Speaking from personal experience, brothers can be pretty cool. They can also be a pain in the butt.” 

He snorts at that, “Yeah. Well, I’ve changed my mind. I think I want sisters instead?” 

You smile, “Yeah?” He nods and you lean in, “Well, good news, because I think you’re on your way to getting some. And once you have us, you’re stuck with us. Fair warning.” 

You’re headed out of the restaurant and towards the parking garage, laughing and talking away with your friends, when your foot snags on something. You go down, your ankle twists, and you swear you hear a snap. It’s enough to make you yelp in pain and bring tears to your eyes. And not just small ones, big ones. You’ve never had a high pain tolerance.  

Jessica and Penny converge on you immediately, someone wants to call an ambulance and you put an end to that immediately. Will is the one who remains calm and when he sees the swelling already starting to happen he makes an executive decision: ER now. Once you’re composed enough you lean on Jessica and Will to get to the cars, since Penny’s heels would leave her more unbalanced. 

The wait is a fairly long one. You repeat over and over again that your friends don’t need to stay, you can always call an uber home. Penny is the one who threatens to call Aaron to replace them if you keep saying that. You pale a bit at that because he’d never been good with people he cares about being hurt. He gets rather snarly. You’d seen it when Jessica had pulled a muscle a few weeks ago. You stay quiet after that, and when you’re finally admitted you breathe a sigh of relief. 

An initial ER doctor takes a look before saying he’ll need an Ortho consult. Your stomach flips at that, as your mind flashes to your ex. No one in your group misses the way you scowl. You drum your fingers against your thigh as a bad feeling settles in your stomach, and then your stomach drops when the curtain is pulled back and you see him. There’s no surprise in his eyes. He’d read you chart, he’d known it was you. 

He says your name, and your reaction is immediate, “I want a different doctor.” 

His eyes glance over the people in your group, “I’m the attending on call, and all the others are in surgery.”

“I’ll wait.” 

He takes a step forward and so does Jessica. None of your friends know what’s going on. You don’t talk about Joel. And other than Spencer’s complaints while you and Joel were dating you doubt anyone on the team even knows about him. 

“We’re talking over eight hours, and you’re in pain. I know you hate me, but please let me help.” 

You swallow, because this is hitting you much harder than you would have thought. You suppose that’s to be expected, because you’d never really dealt with it. You’d been so numb in the few months after you’d found out pretending that it hadn’t, pretending that everything was fine, and then you’d had a brief moment of anger, until you’d gotten Spencer’s call for help. After that you’d pushed everything away. Whenever thoughts of Joel came to you, you shut them down. 

And now, staring at the man, you felt a mixture of pain, sadness, and overwhelming anger. “You want to help me?” Your voice is deceptively calm, and he knows it. You give him credit when he doesn’t turn and run. 

“Yes.” 

“Then you should have stayed on the fucking west coast. I went across the country, left everything behind to get away from your lying, cheating, impregnating your mistress ass. And now, you’re not only on my coast, you’re in my city, a city you knew I lived in.” 

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Penny texting a mile a minute. You’ve drawn more than a few eyes. And then the curtain pulls back again and you nearly foam at the mouth at the woman standing there. She has a look of horror on her face, and she stutters out an apology. You listen as he tells her it’s okay, that he has this, and you snap, “Get out. Get out right now Joel.” 

He says your name again, and steps closer only for Will and Jessica to step in his way,

While Penny takes your hand. Jessica is the one who steps closer, “She’s asked you to leave several times now. You are ignoring the will of a patient, so someone needs to get me your supervisor now!” 

She takes another step closer to him, and Joel finally steps back enough for her to pull the curtain closed again. You can hear all three of them asking you questions, but you can’t process them. You’re mortified. You’d just aired dirty laundry in the middle of an emergency room, and as the pain you never process washes over you, you feel like you’re shattering. And you replay it in your head. 

You’d flown home early after Spencer’s attack by Hankle. He’d pushed you away, which in hindsight had been the dilaudid, and you’d gone home early as a result. You decided to surprise Joel, and that might have been the best or worst mistake of your life. You’d entered the apartment to find clothes scattered about; men’s and women’s. And the women’s clothes weren’t you. Then you’d heard the moans and a female voice calling out Joel’s name. You had hesitated at the bedroom door for a good forty seconds, and knowing you’d try to reason it away if you didn’t see it, you’d opened the door. You’d gotten your confirmation. 

You had cleared your throat and the way they just stopped, and their horrified faces had been something out of a movie. You’d asked one question, “Is this being selfish like you taught me, or just being a bastard.” You had looked at the woman and gave one order, “Get the hell out of my apartment.” You name was on the lease, you had just as much say as Joel. Her eyes had flitted to Joel and then you had repeated yourself, your words like ice. That had gotten her to move. And when you heard the door close, you looked back at Joel, who was staring at you, a look of what you thought was remorse on his face. 

Then you looked at the bed. The bed where the two of you had spent time planning a future, watching movies, snuggling, and you went numb, because you had been betrayed by a man yet again. 

You don’t know how much time has passed but you come to when you hear Spencer’s voice. You blink several times, and find him kneeling in front of you, your hand in his, a look of worry and concern on your face. You choke out the words, “I’m fine.” 

He shakes his head, “No you’re not.” 

“I should be. You shouldn’t have to worry about this.” You give a watery smile.

He looks you in the eyes and very seriously says, “You took care of me my entire life. You have done EVERYTHING for me. Let me take care of you for once.” 

And then the crying starts. You try to keep from making a sound, but when the first sob wracks your body, Spencer  wraps himself around you. You cry into his chest, as his hand strokes your hair. His voice is hushed as he whispers that you’re okay and he’s there. His arms tighten protectively around you when the curtain opens. You peer around him to see Joel standing behind a man in a suit. A very nervous looking man. And that’s when you see him. He’s moving through the emergency room like a man on a mission. People are stepping out of his way, eyes trailing him. And when he locks onto you. 

You feel a flush of embarrassment rush through you. Because the man had lost his wife. He was raising his son alone. Being cheated on and faced by said cheater YEARS later was nothing in comparison. 

He’s over to you in a moment, and the man in the suit tries to stop him, asking him who he is. Big mistake. “I’m her best friend. I’m also her lawyer.” The man pales at that. He steps closer to him, and the few inches of height he has over the man is enough to make the poor guy cower, “Now step back until we ask for you.” 

He steps into the small space where your little group is squeezed into, but not before his eyes float over Joel. He turns to you, “Is that him?” 

Aaron knew the basics about Joel, but he didn’t know the details. He didn’t know how you’d stayed in the apartment for the few months afterwards. How Joel had slept on the couch and you’d simply existed by never really talking to him, or listening to him or touching him, until  he’d uttered the words, “The mistress is pregnant.” Well he’d said her name, but you’d refused to hear it. Hearing her name would have given Joel an out, it would have given you someone to hate other than him. And even in that numbness, you hadn’t wanted that. Joel was to blame. 

Spencer is the one who explains everything, and you can see Aaron’s face get more and more mad. It’s the face that makes suspects crack in seconds. “I can make it out to be stalking. We can get a restraining order and . . .” 

“And you’re reaching.” Your voice is hoarse and a bit muffled from the way Spencer is still protectively curled around you. “No judge would sign off on that, and they shouldn’t. He cheated on me Aaron. He cheated and got her knocked up and he broke every promise he ever made to me. And if I had allowed myself to process it then, we probably wouldn’t all be here but . . .” 

“No. You don’t get to do that. You’d don’t get to take on one ounce of guilt for this. You went away for a few days to help your brother who had been attacked in the line of duty. This is on him. And when you asked for another doctor, he refused. He tried to talk you into it. That’s not okay. And while I may not have specialized in medical or malpractice law I know plenty of people who did.” 

An overwhelming tired sensation washes over you, “I want to go home Aaron. I want to get my foot looked at, do whatever needs to be done, and I want to go home. I’m just tired. I’m so tired.” 

He looks at you for several seconds before he nods and steps outside of the curtain. His voice is calm but firm as he talks to whoever is on the other side. When he opens the curtain again, Joel is blessedly gone, and a new orthopedic surgeon comes by. A wave of anger washes over you when you’re told you don’t even need surgery, it’s a clean break, and you're in a walking boot for the rest of the summer. There had been absolutely no reason for Joel to even come over after having looked at your chart or x-rays. 

You lean heavily on Spencer as you walk out of the ER, with several sets of eyes following you. Aaron is the one who drives you and Spencer to your place. Penny, Jessica, and Will all give comforting words, and you know they’ll be checking in over the next few days. 

You head straight to the bedroom the moment you’re inside. You fall asleep immediately. You sleep for over twelve hours. You wake up to the sounds of children and hobble out to your living room. You smile at what you find there. Spencer, Derek, and Will are on the floor with Henry and Jack playing legos. Dave is in your kitchen with JJ and Jessica. While Penny and Emmily and Hotch are talking in a corner. 

Jack is the first one to see you. He makes a mad dash and adjusts his speed when Aaron yells out for him to be careful. You gladly take the hug, and Henry rushes over to give you one as well. You get hugs from everyone before Penny places a glass of wine in your hand, despite the fact that it’s only noon on a Sunday. 

She sees the question in your eyes and explains, “You need your people right now. And that’s us. We’re your people. And we don’t leave each other alone when we’re in pain.” 

You spend the day allowing yourself to wallow while being surrounded by your people. It’s a therapeutic process, and thanks to it, you’re a bit better by the time the majority of them go home.

Spencer, Aaron, and Jack are the ones who stay after everyone else leaves. Jack gleefully informs you that he brought his sleeping bag for a campout in your living room, and Aaron just shrugs. Spencer fusses over you for the rest of the night, forcing food on you, while Aaron puts on Pride and Prejudice. As expected, the movie doesn’t hold Jack’s attention, and he very quickly falls asleep. And Spencer is quick to follow.

You stare at the two of them sprawled out on the floor with a pile of blankets and pillows and smile before turning towards Aaron who’s studying you. “You can go home if you want. I’ll be okay.” 

“I know you’ll be okay, but I’m not leaving you alone. You didn’t leave me alone when I was the one hurting.” 

“Your wife had just died, Aaron. A person you spent years with. Joel cheated on me nearly three and a half years ago. I’ll be okay. Right as rain tomorrow.” 

“You never felt it. You didn’t let yourself feel it. That’s why you’re in so much pain right now. I was the same when it came to the divorce, right until you kicked my ass. And don’t compare our pain. We can both be hurt, we can both feel things without minimizing what the other feels. 

“So, I’m here. Jack is here. Spencer is here. We took off work for a few days to be here.” 

A fresh wave of tears pricks at your eyes, “You took off work?” 

He smiles and pulls you to him. You snuggle into the hug, “I’m prioritizing what’s important. And that’s my family; Jack, you, Jessica, and Spencer if he wants.” 

“I want.” 

Your eyes go to your brother who’s eyes are still closed, but he says, “Listen to him sis. Let us be there for you for once. You don’t have to carry everything on your own anymore.” His eyes open “We can carry some of it too.” You feel a weight lift, and your soul feels lighter than it has in years, because maybe you don’t have to do everything alone anymore. 

Tag List: 

@hateinthemorning  @nightressposts @bulldozed88 @toastedside  @am3l1a-24  @wintelu @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @moonwarriorx3 @fallen-wolf22 @donttellanyoneireadfanfiction @kathleenjasmine @l-vvne @sekhmet5 @lil-frenchfri77 @prettylittlemoonlight @webreathfandoms @fandomsstolemylife00 @gracesd1ary @eli-side-blog @sleepy-time @bcarolinablr @acoolnight @violet-potter @ssavanessa22 @inlovewithhonestlyeveryone @louisaland @averyhotchner @lostinwonderland314 @prentisswrites @starandbooklover @vxxn128 @csloreen  @srosegarden @zetasaturno99 @greenprisca @rogue-fandoms @fandom-oneshots-etc @elejah88 @cm-chaos @thestarssalign @gspenc @mochionly  @big-galaxy-chaos @princess76179 @unaware-dumbass-here @miahelen @baumarvel @sydbriann @infinite-tides @rexit-mo @belledawnidk @rousethemouse @bluepvnkrocker @evans-dejong @pixietilly1924 @thewannabewriter @livinthesweetlife @simplysophi @crazymar15 @bestillmystuckyheart @jklemps @ghostklnk  @sagittarianwolf @kittengirl998 @dontcallmekittens @eternalharry @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @irrelevant86 @reichelhache @messedupmyfuckinglife @itsnottilly @lieswithoutfairytales @lilli4107 @fandoms4ever97 @amatswimming @honeybug-victoria @shaynapineapple @life-is-insanity @lil-roaster @bloodyxheaven @lunar-wings-rose221 @sbeno22 @woderfulkawaii @infinite-tides @enilledam @oddobsessionbutotay @kuolonsyoja  @enjoymyloves @ash19871962 @jodiereedus22 @mochionly @werewolfbansheelove @futuristictacosalad @romanogersendgame  @soupyamanda @loadedgodcomplex  

[nutellaneedsanap]

Almost a Dream

Jason awoke with a start, the senses he honed as a street kid warning him that something was wrong. It wasn’t a noticeable shift, something a more normal person wouldn’t notice, but to a person with his training it was glaringly obvious. The slight shift of the blankets, the dip of the bed…a quick peek confirmed what he already knew. There was someone else in his bed. The blue-eyed boy kept his eyes lightly shut, feeling the warm body next to him shift ever-so-slightly. Discreetly, he opened his eyes and peered at the figure that appeared next to him, gauging her threat level. 

She was a smaller girl with blueish-black hair, likely of asian-descent, and a wiry-muscular frame not unlike Dick’s. Deciding that she was asleep, (therefore not much of an immediate threat), Jason went to move, planning on getting Bruce. He had only just begun to sit up when she pounced.

She gave no warning before lunging forward, giving Jason’s throat a quick jab that left him gasping for air. Taking advantage of the moment it took for him to catch his breath, the girl grasped his hair at the root and brought his head down on her knee. A telltale crack sounded throughout the room and internally, Jason groaned. 

“Ahhh, Alfie’s not gonna be too happy about that.” His voice had a slight lisp, another sign pointing towards a broken nose. His assailant scrambled to get off the bed and backed towards the balcony, her hands quickly touching her ear lobes. She did not seem to like what she found, her face quickly settling into a scowl.

“I don't know who you are or what you want from me,” she began, settling into a (rather good) fighting stance. “And I don't care. I will be leaving and you will not stop me.”

Jason looked at her, grasping his nose that had begun to leak a small trail of blood.

“What the hell?” He wasn’t screaming but he sure wasn’t whispering. 

“I’m not exactly sure how you do things in France, but I'm pretty sure most parents teach their children to not break into someone’s house, sleep next to them like a weirdo, and then break their nose!” 

There was a chance that the bluenette couldn’t understand him(there was no shortage of immigrants in Gotham), but Jason hadn’t learned more than basic French yet. Technically, learning the more common languages was a part of his training as Robin, but he had kind of forgone those specific lessons. And why would he put in all that time and effort learning French when he could be reading more books from the Manor’s library?

She blinked at him. “What do you mean, I broke in? I apologize but sir, you are not pretty enough to pretend to be so stupid.”

The black-haired boy blinked right back. He may not know French but he does know an insult when he hears one, so he fires one back. “Well fuck you too.” 

The girl scrutinized him, her expression screaming “Is that the best you can do?”

“Oh? You want to go? Fine. My middle finger salutes you and your assholeishness. Calling you an idiot would be an insult to those who truly worked hard for the title.” 

She stuck her tongue out at him. 

“There is a special place in hell for you, ya know that?”

The girl cocked an eyebrow. “I’m aware there is a special place in hell for me, it's called a throne. And those are bold words for someone who literally kidnapped me, but go off I guess.” 

It didn’t take much more for the pair to dissolve into a screaming match, the bluenette yelling in French and what he thought was Cantoneese and Jason using more than a few of the Spanish phrases he had picked up from his dad and other folks on the street. Jason was in the middle of one of his more strongly worded combinations when the door slammed open, Bruce and Alfred standing in the doorway.

The both of them took a moment to examine the situation, Alfred accessing Jason for injuries while Bruce switched on the Batglare™. “Who are you, and how did you get here?” 

The poor girl looked exasperated. 

“I don’t know how I got here!! Last thing I remember was collapsing into bed and the next thing I know I wake up to the face of this,” she pointed at Jason, “creep who doesn’t even have the decency to talk to me! I keep on asking him how I got here and why he took me but he just won’t answer. He’s pretending that he doesn’t know French, but who in Paris doesn’t know French?!? I  mean, sure, there are immigrants, but who the hell would immigrate to Paris nowadays? What with Hawkmoth akkumatizing people day and night.” 

She paused before flopping down on the floor, dejected. “Today was supposed to be perfect, the day I finally got my soul mark and got one step closer to finding my soulmate, but no, I just had to get kidnapped the night before my 16th birthday!” She put her face in her hands and her shoulders began to shake slightly. 

Jason looked from the girl back to Alfred and Bruce. “Is she?” he mouthed, thoroughly bewildered. Bruce exactly as Jason felt, while Alfred’s face was twisted into something that resembled pity and understanding. 

“Master Bruce, may I have a moment with you?” Bruce sighed and turned to leave. Not wanting to be left alone with the now sobbing girl, Jason followed.

Alfred handed Jason a handkerchief for his nose before he began. “Masters, this young girl has been through quite the ordeal and I will not have either of you using your vigilante intimidation tactics on her, understood?” 

He waited until he got a nod from the two of them before continuing. “Good. You know, Master Jason, I read a very interesting book recently about Kate Goodwill and her studies on soulmates. And before you ask, Master Bruce, I do have somewhere I am going with this. The book was absolutely fascinating, the theories, the experiments, simply everything. However, the one thing that stood out to me the most was Dr. Goodwill’s research on the different types of soul bonds, specifically the one that she and her wife shared. Her research was kick-started because no one had heard of their type of soulbond before and it had caused quite the panic for both the young girls and their families.” He paused, making eye contact with Jason. “Their soulbond caused the younger of the pair to teleport into their soulmate’s bed in the middle of the night on their sixteenth birthday.”

•••

Marinette was not having a good day. First, Mlle. Bustier assigned her to work with Lila, Lila of all people, for the end of the semester project in summer school (which she was attending due to her absences as Ladybug and Lila was attending because she was constantly absent for “charity work”), then in the middle of the night, Hawkmoth sends out 1 and ½ akumas (long story), and now she wakes up to find that she was kidnapped by a psycho in her sleep? What the actual FUCK?!?! Where was Tikki’s luck when she needed it?

And ok, sure, she wasn’t necessarily proud of how she handled the situation, but she was under a lot of stress, ok! She woke up in a random kid’s bed with no earrings and no Tikki. And yeah, she probably could have done without antagonizing the boy, but it was so easy and fun to get him riled up! How was she to know that the yelling would bring scarier other people? Ok yeah scratch that she probably should have figured that out herself (I mean the boy obviously had money so it makes sense that he’d have more people around his house) but in her defense she was like, really tired.

She glanced at the closed door that the men had just exited, wiping a few stray tears from her face. 

“If only I had Kaliki,” she mused. 

But no matter. She already had the beginnings of an escape plan forming in her head. I’ll just need a handkerchief, a piece of twine, and maybe a hairpin to pick the lock on the balcony door, but then how would I get out of the property? A house with a room like this must have crazy security measures… She went on like this for a couple of minutes, formulating her plan before she checked out the window. Three stories up...could normal civilian Marinette survive that jump? I would transform, I still have my earrings, but without Tikki I can’t... She went on like this, thinking of different plans and contingencies. The bluenette was so lost in her head that she almost didn’t notice when the three re-entered the room.

“Miss,” the older man who looked like a butler began. “I deeply apologize for the earlier behaviour of Master Jason.” He gestured to the now apprehensive boy who gave her a little wave. “He has not yet learned French and had no way to comprehend the situation. I was able to hear both sides of the story, and I believe that there has been a large misunderstanding. You were under the impression that Master Jason kidnapped you, correct?” Marinette nodded, more than a little confused. “Master Jason was under the impression that you had snuck into his bedroom in the middle of the night.”

“So what are you suggesting, someone put me here without either of us knowing?” I swear to all things holy if this man accuses me of lying…

“I am getting there, Miss. I assume you are familiar with the soulmate story of Dr. Kate Goodwill?” Marinette nodded yet again. 

The man took a deep breath. “I believe this is a similar situation, and that the two of you are soulmates..”

Her jaw dropped. “You mean I...we...what? N-no way.” 

She racked her hands through her hair. She... she wouldn’t overlook something like that, right? You were supposed to feel a sense of belonging the first time you met your soulmate and she...had kind of felt that. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. From a logical standpoint, it would explain so much! Why he spoke English, why Tikki wasn’t with her, why her earrings weren’t on… Her face turned crimson as she realized the full implications of the statement. She turned to face the newly named Jason.

“Oh Kwami I’m so sorry Jason! I didn’t mean to, I swear, I was just so surprised and kind of scared and oh Kwami, the first time I met my soulmate I broke his nose and called him every name that I knew,” she smacked herself on the head. “Only you Mari. Oh gosh I totally understand if you never want to talk to me again I’m probably the worst soulmate in existence I just-” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the two adults leaving the room.

“You can speak English?” Jason exclaimed, looking equal parts amused and exasperated. “You spent this whole time yelling at me in French and Cantoneese and you can speak English? So much of this could have been avoided if you had just talked to me!”

Marinette gave a nervous chuckle. “Uhhhhh, surprise?” 

At his incredulous look, she rushed to elaborate. “Well I thought we were still in Paris and no one has immigrated to Paris in literally two years so I thought that you knew French and the choice to speak English was conscious? Like maybe it was some weird interrogation tactic or something? I don’t know, I was just confused.”

“You thought I kidnapped you?” He whistled through his teeth. “Yeah, I can see why you reacted the way you did. No worries though, my nose isn’t too horribly fractured and I probably would have done the same thing.” They both chuckled. 

He has a nice smile, Mari noted. (She wouldn’t know until much later, but Jason thought the same about her laugh.)

“I think we should start over.” Marinette held out her hand. 

“Hi, I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I live in Paris, France, today is my birthday, and I think I’m your soulmate.”

Jason smirked, holding out his hand. “Hello Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m Jason Todd-Wayne and I think you are my soulmate too,”

They shook, and that was that.

The End.

Bonus:

Jason: You know, Ethiopia can wait for one more day.

Marinette: It can wait FOREVER.

Bonus 2:

Alfred: Would you like to stay for dinner?

Jason: Would you like to stay forever?

[himaboroshi736]

IronDad fic recs

Here. I’m a french reader, but I’ve read A LOT (like...a lot) of IronDad, so, eventually, here my fic rec. (I tried to class it by categories, but well...) (it’s gonna be very long, guys)

 Peter Parker has anxiety 

Don’t let me get me, by hopeless_hope 

He picks up his phone and sends a quick text. "hey, happy! i’m not feeling too hot today, so i think i’m gonna have to cancel. tell mr. stark i’m sorry!"

He stares at his phone, waiting for a response. It never comes, and Peter sighs sadly. There was a part of him, a small part, that really hoped he was wrong. His insides burn, and he curls up tighter into a ball and turns off his phone.

(No one’s going to try to contact him anyway.)

or

Anxiety has a way of convincing Peter that everyone hates him. Tony has a way of proving him wrong.

Midnight Oil, by @jolinarjackson

After everything that has happened to Peter over the last year - or five, really - he shouldn’t be worried about something as mundane as the ACT. When he fails it, though it sends him into a spiral of self-doubt, which only gets worse when Peter realizes that he doesn’t seem to be able to fix whatever is broken.

Tony Stark has anxiety 

do you even remember what the world looks like ?, by @iron--spider

Tony’s heart has been working on overdrive since this whole thing started. Friday has a countdown clock plastered on the heads up display, but it feels like hieroglyphics to him at this point, like some ancient language he could never master.

Because when Peter Parker is missing, things start losing their meaning real quick.

“Should be around here,” Rhodey says on the com. May is still on the other line, listening in, because once a certain amount of time goes by without word from Peter, things move into Extremely Worried Aunt territory. They’re already in Tony Is Panicking territory, and when both of those territories overlap it’s never a good time for anybody.

Time? What the hell is time? His mind is blanking numbers out entirely. Minutes are seconds are hours are years.

not like megatron, by @iron--spider

“Hi! This is Peter Parker, I can’t get to the phone right now, so leave a message and I’ll call you back later! Hopefully not too much later, but don’t get your hopes up!”

Tony knows that message by heart. He’s heard it hundreds of times, in a greyer world, and it sends shivers down his spine as he climbs into the car.

He doesn’t think about that place. That half-world. No way, that’s done, that’s over, that’s history.

“Hey, kid, don’t you know it’s bad etiquette to go and disappear on your birthday? Not allowed, really, really bad vibes from the universe. What’s going on with your suit? I wasn’t watching. Nope. Just got an alert. What’s going on? Uh, call me back.” He clears his throat and hangs up like a moron, driving out into the street.

Hypothermia trope (i really like it so if you have any suggestions...)

i knock the ice from my bones, by hopeless_hope

Peter tries to move his legs through the water, dread filling him when they don’t move, and he just hangs there, doing anything and everything he can not to focus on the feeling of ice clinging to his bones. He feels sluggish, the world blurring around him, and he rests his head on the ice, not even registering the cold anymore.

He’s just so damn tired.

“PETER!” he hears someone yell, but it’s all muffled, and he lazily drags his eyes up to see a figure descending towards him.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he thinks, This is not how my vacation was supposed to go.

or

While on what's supposed to be a relaxing vacation with the Starks, things for Peter quickly go south, and he finds himself on thin ice. Literally.

Ice Ice Baby, by @wolfypuppypiles

If Tony, Bucky or pretty much anybody that knew Peter had seen him that morning they would have smacked him upside the head. Helping people was great, everyone should give it a go, but when helping people puts you in danger it’s not so smart anymore.

AKA Peter can't get from Avenger tower to the subway without giving his winter clothes to homeless people and ends up with a severe case of hypothermia

Candle in the Window, by @madasthesea

Finals are over and Peter just wants to go home. The weather has other ideas.

Burn This Out, by @ephemeralstark

It's summer and Peter is free to be Spider-Man all day which is great, but it's summer and Peter is out as Spider-Man on the hottest day of the year which is not great.

Or, Peter gets heat stroke because he can't thermoregulate and things could not go worse for him.

(yeah, it’s not an hypothermia, but it’s linked to the fact that Peter can’t actually thermoregulate)

Post-Endgame (really like this trope too lmao)

the first birthday after, by iron_spider 

(Endgame spoilers. But The Thing doesn't happen.)

The rain falls harder and Tony turns, his neck creaking and cracking, and he sees Peter asleep over by the window. He’s holding a small, flat box, and he’s slowly slipping to the right side of the easy chair he’s in.

Tony thinks about letting him sleep, but he finds himself speaking anyway. “Pete,” he says, his voice rough and raspy.

Peter immediately startles awake. “Happy Birthday,” he says, almost like he’d fallen asleep practicing it, planning to say it as soon as he woke up. He blinks at Tony, shivering a little bit, and then he smiles. “Happy Birthday. Happy Birthday.”

Tony snorts, smiling back. “Thanks, bud,” he says.

Second Best, by Rowan_M

Tony had adjusted to parenthood quickly when Morgan came along, and was always conscious of making sure Peter isn't left out ... Almost always. When Peter gets hurt while taking care of Morgan, Tony obsess over his daughter and takes his anger out on Peter, without even checking to see if he was okay. Steve finds Peter later that night in serious pain and in need of immediate medical attention.

Or, Peter gets hurt while taking care of Morgan and Tony basically ignores him.

when you’re feeling empty keep me in your memory, by JkWriter

after everything with thanos he forgets it's his birthday. he just assumed everyone else did too.

All For You, by @ironxprince

Three weeks after the snap that saved the world, Peter learns he was the reason behind it. He learns that Tony risked death, and now has to live with the ramifications, both physical and mental, all because of him.

This doesn't sit right with him.

you save everybody, but who saves you ?, by @iron--spider

Tony doesn’t sleep, because he can’t, because too many things are plaguing him, most of all where Peter is and what he’s doing. Tony has a good view of the hallway through the windows to his room, and he stares and stares until his eyes cross, until he hallucinates, until he knows he’s going insane.

He sees Peter sneaking into the med bay at about four in the morning.

The kid’s mask is off and he’s got two short, harsh slashes across his cheek, and he’s bleeding from a slice across his neck. His suit is ripped in a few places and he’s holding onto his middle, and Tony can see his hands are shaking.

It’s like something splinters in Tony’s already broken brain, like his world narrows and there are hazy edges, both weakness and strength entwining in his veins when he sees Peter struggle up onto one of the beds in the main atrium, starting to tend his wounds without calling anybody to help.

BAMF Peter Parker 

Pizza, a Movie, and... an Attempted Kidnapping ?, by Pogokitten

“Tony. We’ll be fine,” Peter tells the man for what must be the tenth time in the last half hour.

Peter’s sitting on the couch of his and May’s apartment and building Legos with Morgan as they both watch their father’s methodical, yet anxious, pacing. He’s dressed to impress, as is Pepper who is watching the scene slightly exasperated.

“Are you sure? We can ditch the gala, kid. Just say the word,” Tony offers, halting in front of his kids.

Or: Tony and Pepper leave Peter in charge of Morgan while they go to their first gala since the third snap. Peter is expecting a calm night in with his adopted sister, but some thugs throw a wrench in his plans.

he’s good like that, by @iron--spider

“Get the hell outta here, boy,” the man says. “Or you’re gonna watch your boss die in front of you.” Then he grabs Tony by the shoulders hard, and shoves him down to his knees. The gun is louder now, like it’s filled with words that are eager to be shouted, and Tony winces when he feels the barrel press against the back of his neck. His knees weren’t ready to hit the ground that hard, and he tries to keep the pain from reaching his face.

He must fail, because Peter looks pissed.

“You’re not gonna shoot him, mister,” Peter says, somehow still trying to maintain a respectful tone, despite the clear anger written all over him.

stark robotics and technology conference, by @iron--spider

Peter leans against the wall while Tony chooses their floor, and the doors close. “Do you, uh, want me to do some interning stuff? Like go and get you coffee? Make sure the, uh—programs are all ready? Make sure the paintings are straight in the ballroom? Make sure the chairs are—”

Tony snorts. “Kid, I just thought you’d enjoy this. May told me about when it came through Queens but you two couldn’t make it because she was working and didn’t want you to go alone, and I thought, after all the shit you’ve been through lately, that you deserved something fun. No interning for you. That’s just an excuse.”

Peter remembers that. It was six months after Ben died, and he wasn’t gonna bother May too much about the conference. He didn’t know how much tickets cost anyways, or if kids his age could even go.

He really hung onto the idea of Iron Man after Ben died. Peter held him closer than ever.

Peter and Tony fighting 

dinner and a jailbreak, by killerqueenwrites

“I’m not your kid!” Peter shouts.

“Don’t walk away from me, I’m not done–“

“You’re not my dad!”

Peter fitting in after the Blip isn't as easy as Tony hoped it would be. He wants his kid back, but they can't seem to stop fighting.

and then Peter goes missing.

my old man, by parkrstark 

"I just want to help you. I want to help you understand what's wrong here and how to stop it. I used to be the same way until my father showed me how to be a man." He glanced back at Peter to sneer. "He's old enough to know better by now, but it's not your fault you didn't know how to teach him." "Teach him what?" Tony asked even though he didn't want to know the answer.

"Discipline, of course," Junior said with a wink.

--

Tony takes Peter on a weekend trip to try and change his mind about college and things go wrong. Then, they go even more wrong.

Between how it is and how it should be, by @frostysunflowers

''Doesn’t Captain Rogers ever…wonder,'' Peter winced as he fumbled for the right word, ''where you are?''

Bucky smirked. ''Steve’s a regular mother hen. Used to be me that worried about him.'' He gave Peter a pointed look. ''Better question is, isn’t Stark wondering where you are?''

Soulmates trope 

presumed dead, by killerqueenwrites 

Tony gets his first soulmark when he’s fifteen, his second when he's thirty. He's forty-six when his third appears, and forty-eight when it fades to grey.

did you see the flares in the sky ?, by justt-ppeachy

‘hi’  

One simple word was displayed proudly on the inside of his right wrist. Tony wasn’t sure when this word showed up or how long it had been there.

A line formed underneath the word and Tony could almost feel the pressure on his arm from the marker his soulmate was using to push one phrase from their skin into his.

‘i loev yu’

The letters were written slowly and messily as they showed up upon his wrist while he watched in disbelief. Not sure if he was hallucinating or just going insane, Tony rubbed at the writing, wondering if they would disappear once he looked again.

The words were barely recognizable, but they were still the best thing Tony had ever seen.

IronDad Fluff (yeah)

peter wearing tony’s hoodie, by killerqueenwrites 

Tony’s used to his clothes going missing. His MIT hoodie doesn’t often leave his closet, though, which is why he notices its absence straight away. There’s a lifetime of safety and comfort in this old hoodie, for both of them, and that’s all Tony could ever wish to give Peter.

Career Day, by @superhusbands4ever

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Peter’s enhanced senses picked up the familiar voice from outside the door. “I had a meeting this morning and then I got lost looking for the class… anyway, I’m here for Peter? Peter Parker?”

He frowned at hearing his name, still unsure what exactly was going on. He watched as his teacher continued to stand and stare out the door for a minute before seemingly remembering herself and taking a step back.

“Of course! If you could just go sit next to him until your turn, he’s in the back on the right side.”

The man stepped through the door and Peter gaped with the rest of the class as Tony Stark, in his signature suit and goatee, sporting a pair of red sunglasses and carrying a suitcase walked through the door.

Kryptonite, by forensicleaf 

The kid is acting weird.

Tony tries to figure it out.

father’s day, by @iron--spider 

It’s Father’s Day, and Tony never really had a father. Not in the real sense of the word, not in the way that counts.

Peter Parker doesn’t have a father, either. Not anymore, anyway, not since he was little, and the amount of years that have passed since then outweigh the amount of time he got with Richard Parker.

Tony wouldn’t call himself Peter’s dad. He wouldn’t, he doesn’t, he doesn’t think of himself that way, no way, no way.

He stares at himself in the mirror. He pulls down on his cheeks, makes his eyes water. He runs his hands over the roughness of his jaw and sorta hates everything about himself right now, because he’s acting like a goddamn idiot. It’s Father’s Day and he’s not a father. He doesn’t know why the hell he’s pining for something that isn’t his, shouldn’t be his, can never be his. He isn’t a father, he isn’t Peter’s father, so there’s no reason on God’s green earth for Peter and him to do something for Father’s Day.

ain’t no valley low enough, by @iron--spider (yes, again, ‘cuz she’s the best)

Peter snorts. “You know I didn’t apply anywhere in Florida.”

“Please, kid, you know all you have to do is write a beautiful essay with my recommendation attached to it and you’re in. You’ve got the scores.”

Peter has a list. Of all the places he applied to, all the places he got into. A lot of it was encouraged by the adult role models in his life, some of it by Ned daydreaming about places like California and Colorado. Mostly, Peter just applied everywhere he could think of, because he’s known for a long time that Tony was gonna help May pay for it, and he didn’t wanna limit his options. Thinking about college has been strange for him, strange to the extent that he had a full blown panic attack about it in the middle of Avengers taco night last month. He can’t really understand it, doesn’t get why it feels like the end of the world—because he’s experienced the end of the world, and it’s not which campus has a bowling alley and which school has circus classes. But he nearly blacked out all the same, sobbed in Tony’s arms on the balcony until Tony proposed this. The road trip.

and when it’s hard, i’ll place your head into my hands, by hopeless_hope

“Tony,” Pepper sing-songs to get his attention. “Your mother hen is showing.”

“What?” he snaps indignantly. “I am not a mother hen. This is just... concern. Of the average kind. Perfectly normal.”

“Of course,” Pepper humors him, and he shoots her a dirty look as he types out a quick text to Peter.

or

It's been five days since Tony's heard from Peter, who's away at college, and Tony is not coping well. (Neither is Peter.)

Peter likes cuddles (and Tony too, but he always denies it... until he can’t)

my arms will hold you (keep you safe and warm), by parkrstark 

“So, you’re telling me your body...is going through Oxytocin withdrawals?” Tony asked slowly.

“Cuddle withdrawals,” Peter corrected him. “Mr. Stark cuddles.”

TW : Rape/non-cons

make me strong, by parkrstark 

It all started when Tony introduced Peter to Skip Westcott. He just didn't know until it was too late.

(There is a lot more, but I can’t find it rn ;-;)

5+1 

5 times peter clung to tony, by parkrstark 

... and the one time tony clung to him.

You are my Dad, you’re my dad, boogiewoogiewoogie, by Hittinmiss

“Peter? What’s going on kid?” Tony asked, him popping up on the phone’s screen.

“Hey da-” Peter started automatically before immediately noticing his mistake, the look on Ned’s face proved that yes, he almost called Tony Stark dad. He needed to try recover quickly because the look on Tony’s face seemed confused, especially with his slight pause. “-aaaaaamn Mr. Stark I really like your shirt. Where’d you get it?”

Smooth.

---

5 times Peter called Tony Dad and the 1 time Tony called himself Dad

5 Times Tony Took Care of Peter..., by As_Clear_As_Crystal 

“Think if I coded a sign into your suit that says ‘Baby on Board,’ maybe criminals wouldn’t be so enthusiastic about murdering you?” Tony asks airily, poking at the bottom of Peter’s foot.

Peter halfheartedly kicks at Tony with his toe. (“That’s offensive, Mr. Stark.” )

- - -

aka: Five times Tony took care of Peter, and one time Peter took care of Tony.

5 times Peter is stuck with Tony, by @iron--spider

(...and one time he’s stuck alone.)

“I wonder if Pepper’s reported me missing yet,” Tony says, with an exaggerated sigh. “I wonder if this is some kind of scheme to kidnap me or something.”

“I think the ride’s just broken,” Peter says.

“Today of all goddamn days,” Tony says, exasperation clear in his voice and in his eyes. “Ruining our trip—”

“It’s not ruined,” Peter says. “Look, we’re hanging out."

“Real quality time,” Tony huffs. “Us, a few other trapped members of the general public, and a handful of animatronic pirates. Drunk pirates. Repeating themselves.”

5 times tony forgot peter was just a kid, by @parkrstark

...and the 1 time he didn't.

Or the one where it was hard for Tony to remember that the kid fighting next to him was still just a kid.

can i get a good night’s sleep ? can i PLEASE get a good night’s sleep ?, by peterstank 

The doors open and there’s Peter, perched on a gurney with his shirt gone and a whole lot of blood staining his side. He’s bent awkwardly, clearly trying to feel his way around whatever wound he’s got.

“Um,” Tony says, approaching, “What.”

Peter looks up and—yeah, he’s lost a lot more blood than Tony had originally thought. His face is completely fucking drained. “Hey,” he says, offering a jaunty wave before returning his attention to his side. “I got shot.”

“Oh!” Tony nods. “Oh, okay. What the fuck, kiddo?”

or: five times peter doesn’t sleep + the one time he does

Five Times Peter and Tony Had Each Other’s Back, by Sahiya

... and One Time They Needed Help.

Peter is Tony’s Biological Child

I Had the Dream Again, by Skeeter_110

Peter calls Tony in the middle of the night crying.

Congratulations, it’s a Boy, by capiocapi 

"Sir, I have the results.”

“Okay, Jarvis. Hit me.”

“It’s a match. 99.9% chance that he is your biological son, which is the percentage needed to be recognized by law as a biological parent.”

Tony’s stomach did a funny swooping dance. “Great. Congratulations to me then, eh? It’s a boy.”

You Are My Sunshine, by @iamconstantine

Tony Stark had always been a man of science and he always would be. It was his personal and fundamental belief that everything had an explanation. His eventual encounters with Norse gods, alien life, and sorcerers did kind of quake this a little bit, but still.

One thing that had always confounded him as the one thing that had no scientific explanation was fate. Murphy’s law, Finagle’s law, the butterfly effect, the domino effect, the snowball effect, and the wisest of all: “Shit happens.”

So how peculiar was it that one of the greatest things to ever happen to him began with a tray of champagne?

Serie i love you more than anything, by @iron--spider 

The highs and lows of Tony unexpectedly becoming a single dad at 31– from Peter’s early baby years, all the way past the defeat of Thanos

May’s abusive boyfriend trope 

A Peter Parker Problem, by @spagbol99

Peter Parker was back from the dead. At least that is what everybody told him. He'd been snapped out of existence until some sort of time travel and an active death wish by his mentor had saved him and the universe. Just your average sort of life for a 16 year old from Queens.

Peter comes back to find May has a husband and a kid. A new family he has to fit into. But he has done it before, he can do it again.

The only thing that feels solid is Tony: the Blip and fatherhood have mellowed him and Peter loves the bond they have now. He knows Tony would be there for him through anything. But Tony needs to focus on his own recovery - not small time Peter Parker problems. When things at home take a turn for the worse, Peter decides that he'll handle it himself. He is Spider-man. He's been to space and fought aliens. He can get through anything. After all, if May is happy, he is happy, right? Right?

(again, I’ve read a lot more but can’t find it...)

Peter Parker Whump (everyone’s favorite trope)

Danger Pizza, by alice_in_ink

The window was pushed open, and Iron Man’s head popped into his bedroom. “Here’s where I’m confused—why lock the front door but leave the fire-escape-accessible windows unlocked?” He clambered through said window. “Seems like a safety hazard.”

Peter eyed the metal suit as it straightened to a standing position. “Did you break into my window to kill me?”

The face plate lifted, and Tony’s eyes quickly looked over the teen. “Christ, kid. It looks like you’re halfway there.”

...

A wild night on patrol leaves Peter with a broken back, and boy, does he want to be able to move without dying. (So he calls Anthony Stark, obviously.)

If You Can’t Catch A Breath (You Can Take The Oxygen Straight Out Of My Own Chest), by @losingmymindtonight

"And I would hurry. Little Peter is about to be under quite a lot of pressure, and it might get a little hard to breathe.”

I’ve Got You, by @thedumbestavenger

Peter runs into a Copycat Vulture out on patrol, from there, everything escalates.

Meetings and Migraines, by AllThingsGeeky

Peter has another migraine at an unfortunate time and despite his best efforts he can’t ignore it forever.

The Most Important Thing In The World, by S0lstice

Peter’s door creaked and began to bend under the force of the crowbar and for the first time since regaining consciousness, fear began to press into him. Something very bad was happening and it was happening fast - too fast for his sluggish mind to keep up.

He went with his instincts instead, the first one always being, Help Mr. Stark.

Friendly Fire, by @jolinarjackson

Finding a careful truce with the government, the “rogue Avengers” are allowed to return to the Compound where they are put under house arrest. Peter coming to spend one week at the Compound during his summer break couldn’t have come at a more inconvenient time as the opportunity to bond a little more with his mentor is overshadowed by a conflict he doesn’t quite understand. When he starts to develop a mysterious medical condition, however, the former team is forced to work together – not just to protect Peter’s identity from the DODC, but also to find the cause for his illness before it’s too late.

“He’s my kid,” Tony said, his voice hoarse. “He’s my kid and I failed him.” He covered his eyes and took a few deep, shuddering breaths. “All I ever do is fail him.” Natasha knelt down in front of him and cupped his face in her hands, waiting for him to meet her eyes before she said, “Right now, he doesn’t need you to fix this. He doesn’t need you down here. He needs you over there, in the medbay, by his side.” She thumbed tears from the corners of his eyes and ignored the ones running down her own face. “You haven’t failed him yet.”

alarm bells and panic levels, by @iron--spider

Tony lands heavy on the dock, the wood splintering hard under the metal suit. He’s having trouble breathing, his nose is bleeding, he most definitely has more than the recommended amount of broken ribs. But none of that fucking matters. The sky is clear, the assholes are down, but there’s one thing missing.

He looks over his shoulder when Rhodey lands too. His suit is dented in a few places but other than that he looks alright. His face mask flips up and Tony lets his mask retract.

“Where’s Peter?” Tony asks, his voice rough with the amount of yelling he’s been doing. Fuck these stupid assholes. They were supposed to go mini-golfing today. The kid had been looking forward to it for weeks.

Rhodey looks around, breathing hard through his mouth. “I thought you knew.”

there’s something wrong, by @iron--spider

“I’m sorry, Pete,” Tony whispers. “We should have checked you for something like this when we were resetting your arm and checking on the concussion. Goddamnit. We didn’t think.”

“He poisoned us both?” Peter asks, trying to open one eye to look at him.

“Yeah,” Tony says, brushing Peter’s hair back from his forehead. “He’s dying. He got the brunt of it, a nice fucking cocktail of bullshit, including mercury and a bunch of other toxic shit—”

“Am I dying?” Peter whispers, voice breaking.

Fitting In (Tiny Spaces), by aloneintherain

Peter's trapped beneath a collapsed building during a mission, hurt and unable to move. Luckily, his comm still works. Unluckily, the Avengers don’t realise how bad of a state Peter is in, and Peter isn’t inclined to tell them.

“Spidey, they’ve got reinforcements. We’ve hit a bit of a snag here, and I don’t think anyone will be able to help you for a while. Think you can sit tight while we deal with this?”

The pressure on his lower back and legs was becoming too much. Peter swallowed thickly, fighting down panic. He could handle this.

“Yeah,” Peter said. “I can do that.”

Collections/Series (’cause I could make an inventory of all @iron--spider stories, you know, but you have to read all of her work, if you haven’t yet) (God she doesn’t even know who I am)

iron dad bingo, by @iron--spider

stay at home, by @iron--spider

whumptober, by @iron--spider

Whumptober 2019, by @marvelous-writer

Day in the life of the Iron Family, by @marvelous-writer 

The Tumblr Archives, by @losingmymindtonight

Everything comes back to you, by @losingmymindtonight

Nice work, kid, by @madasthesea

Irondad Bingo 2019, by sahiya 

The Adventures of Spidy-son and Iron-dad, by eva7673

Tony adopts Peter (why everyone kills May, btw ?)

Accepting the Tides, by @emma--anacortes

Tony had dragged Peter from the depths of despair after May's death. It was normal that he'd grown to care a little about him, right?

Yeah, okay. He freaking loved the kid.

So naturally he would feel a little weird when Richard Parker randomly shows up in Peter's life. Naturally he'd feel protective, nervous, and confused because where has Richard been all this time? And why does Tony feel sick every time he sees him around Peter?

All he knows is if Richard hurts his kid, Tony's gonna give him hell.

Series Out of Darkness, by @starryknight09

“Is this Peter Parker?”

“Yes…”

“This is Dr. Nguyen. I’m sorry but your aunt’s been in an accident and we’re going to need you to come to Queens Memorial as soon as you can.”

Peter's life shatters with a phone call. The last person he expects helps him pick up the pieces.

[aellynera]

Beat the System (Poe Dameron x f!Reader; high school AU)

BEAT THE SYSTEM

My darling @autumnleaves1991-blog is doing a Writer Wednesday thing (click that link for details) and today’s challenge was:

...so I wrote this little thing. may or may not be based on things that might have somewhat happened during my years as a summer amusement park lackey.

Word Count: ~2100

Summary: You see a lot of people at your summer job, and you didn’t really want to see him or for him to see you, but that’s not how the system works.

Warnings: Female reader. High School AU. References to clowns. Complaining. Nothing else really, just a lot of fluff. As usual, mostly kind of proofread.

You kind of hated your summer job. 

It wasn’t so much that you hated having to get a job in the first place, after your parents insisted that’s what you’d need to do if you wanted your own car. And the job itself was actually pretty easy, at least in theory.

The ring toss stand at the local amusement park was your domain. Your days were spent surrounded by giant stuffed elephants and aliens and teddy bears, taking money, handing out rings, watching people throw them at bottles. Ninety-nine percent of the time this also meant watching them lose. The losses generally led to another futile round of buying and tossing. And, invariably, cussing; never mind that this was a family establishment and there was a five-year-old standing three feet away from the offender.

No, it was the job on repeat for eight hours a day, five days out of the week. It was seeing all your friends come by and have fun while you literally had to watch them (but hey, at least you got paid.) It was having to work every single weekend. And it was all the people. People you’d known your whole life, people who lived in neighboring towns, busses full of people from who knows where that flocked to this place every single year.

And it was just weird to think of this place as a destination. It was just the amusement park that was there all your life, that your parents went to when they were in high school, and maybe their parents did too. This place was freaking old. But why people felt the need to come by the busload from hours away--

“Hey, I didn’t know you worked here.”

The voice broke through your ranting brain and you looked up to see a familiar face grinning back at you from the other side of the booth.

Poe Dameron was a senior. He was captain of both the football and the soccer team, treasurer of the student council, sang on the chorus, played bass in the jazz band, was in the drama club, and you were pretty sure there were at least a dozen other things he just did because he was good at everything. 

He was also ridiculously hot and the last person you wanted to see you in your ridiculous, brightly colored work uniform. He stood before you looking like he just crawled off the cover of a romance novel, all tan skin and dark curls and defined muscles, and there you were with a high ponytail and baggy shorts and a shirt that would put a clown to shame.

Honestly, all you needed were the giant floppy shoes.

He was also there with a group of his rowdy, juvenile football friends, which only promised to make this hell even more scorching. At least for now, they seemed to be occupied with ogling the girl who ran the tilt-a-whirl across the path and completely ignoring you.

You scrunched your face at him. “Poe, I’ve seen you here like twenty times this summer. You’ve even played this game before. You know I work here.”

“Okay, you got me,” his grin didn’t falter. You weren’t sure, but it might have even gotten a little bigger. He handed over ten dollars. “A bucket of rings, please.”

Great, he was going to hang around. You glanced at your watch, and it solemnly informed you that your break wasn’t for another hour and half. So you were stuck there. In a virtual clown suit. With the hot senior you might have had a little crush on.

Not like you ever doodled his initials in your notebooks or on scraps of paper when the crowds at the stand died down. You denied all knowledge of these supposed incidents.

You could act like a normal person in his presence.

You sighed and took the money from him, handing him a bucket full of red plastic rings in return. “You know this game is rigged, right? They all are.”

“So I’ve heard.” He picked up his first ring. “But I am determined to beat the system.”

You rolled your eyes. “Do you have to be good at everything?”

Poe shot you a quick side-eye before turning his attention back to the sea of bottles in front of him. He tossed the first ring and it flipped end over end before bouncing off a bottle top with a spectacular ding! His brow furrowed as he reached for another ring.

“Apparently not,” he muttered. “But I’ll still beat it. You see, there’s this girl I want to impress, and…” He tossed the second ring and watched it ricochet off another bottle top.

“Of course there is,” you snorted. “There’s probably a whole horde of them.”

He chuckled. “Nope, just one.”

You waved your arm in a grand gesture toward the playing field. “Well then, have at it, Romeo. You know the rules. No leaning over the rail, and you have to land five rings to win. Let me know when you need another bucket.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” he replied as he tossed yet another ring. You tried, you really really tried, to ignore the way the tip of his tongue stuck out between his teeth as he concentrated.

And so it went until the entire bucket full of rings littered the floor of the stall, with nary a single one landing on its intended target. You grabbed the sweeper and started pushing them back into the bins underneath the counter.

Poe growled in frustration. “Seriously?!” He waved another ten in your direction and you handed him another bucket, giggling as you made the exchange.

“I told you, it’s rigged. But…” you crooked a finger to motion him closer. And then tried to remember how breathing worked as he leaned in, now just inches from your face.

“Yeah?” he whispered.

The attempt to subtly clear your throat was only half successful.

“Well, I didn’t tell you this,” you pointed toward the bottles, “but the table is slightly higher on that side, and so is that one part in the middle. If you aim for those bottles, you can probably bounce the rings onto the lower ones.”

The grin he flashed almost blinded you. “Beat the system.”

“Beat the system,” you agreed.

You leaned back and watched. After the first six rings or so, Poe seemed to figure out which bottles to aim for and how to toss the ring (with a bit of spin, of course) and before you knew it, his fifth ring landed on the center bottle and he was shouting “yes!” with a little fist pump.

“I am impressed, Dameron,” you said, clapping. “I bet this girl will be too.”

“I hope so,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. Did he suddenly look kind of shy? No, that wasn’t Poe Dameron. He was the polar opposite of shy.

“Which one?” you asked, pointing to the prizes hanging above you.

“Which one would you pick? If you just beat the system and you were trying to impress someone?”

“Uhhh…” Why in the world was he asking you? It didn’t matter, this was his deal, you just worked there. And quite honestly, you probably wouldn’t pick any of these monstrosities. They were huge. And kind of weird looking. And neon colored.

After a few moments of confused contemplation, your eyes finally landed on a giant purple teddy bear, half hidden behind a chartreuse alien and an orange thing that was trying to impersonate an octopus. You pulled it down and handed it over.

“Here you go, the least weird thing you just spent twenty bucks on when you could have just gone to the mall and bought something more reasonable.”

“Nah, this is perfect,” Poe replied, grabbing the bear. It was nearly half as big as he was. You often wondered how anyone dragged them around the park for the rest of the day, much less managed to get them home. “Thanks for the advice.”

You couldn’t help the smirk that rose on your lips. “It was either that, or have to explain to my supervisor why you would have ended up hanging around until the park closed.”

He laughed loudly. “Rey would have understood. She’s cool like that.”

“Geez, you’re good at everything, do you know everyone in the entire galaxy too?”

Poe didn’t seem to hear you, though, as he looked over his shoulder and around the area, and you followed his gaze. His friends were nowhere to be seen and vaguely, you wondered when they’d wandered off and why they hadn’t very loudly announced it to him. He glanced back at you with a sheepish smile.

“I, uh, I should go find the guys,” he said. “And let you get back to work.”

“Yeah, okay,” you replied. All of the easy-going rapport from the past however long Poe had been there suddenly evaporated and every ounce of awkwardness you normally felt around him returned. “I’ll see you.”

You might have been looking anywhere but at him, but you didn’t miss the small wave he gave you as he walked away, and you definitely felt the heat that rose in your cheeks.

Poe was quickly forgotten as a swarm of ten-year-olds rushed the stand and the incessant clanging of misthrown rings once again took over all your waking moments. You didn’t think about him for the rest of your shift. All you could think about was how tired you were, how hot the day had been, how much you wanted to shower and sleep and pretend you didn’t have to do this again tomorrow and--

Your feet ground to halt in the employee parking lot and approached your beloved car, the entire reason you had this forsaken job in the first place. Your car, which, you would have serious questions had you not known exactly where the thing came from, had a giant purple teddy bear sitting on the hood.

As you got closer, you could see something sticking out from beneath the bow tied around its neck. It was a slip of paper, with a phone number scrawled on it. And a little “P.” with a heart.

What was even happening right now.

Before you knew it, your phone was out of your purse and you were calling his number. Sure, you might have had to dial it four times because your nervous fingers kept pressing the wrong digits, but who was counting? And never mind that it was almost midnight. It was summer, he’d still be awake, right? 

Finally you got it right, and the call picked up on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” you breathed.

“Hey,” you could picture the trademark Dameron grin behind it. And he sounded...relieved? “I’m really glad you called.”

“How did you get into the employee parking lot?”

“I didn’t. I asked Rey for a favor. I figured she might know which car was yours. Told you she’s cool like that.”

You laughed softly. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess she really is.”

“So I do have a really important question for you. Well, two actually.”

“I’m listening,” you said. It was hard to hear anything over how hard your heart was thumping in your ears, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Question one. Can I take you out on a date?”

“Yeah,” you said again and closed your eyes, partly out of a need to center yourself and mostly out of sheer embarrassment. Maybe one day, you would remember how to speak to Poe Dameron in multiple word sentences, but right at this moment was not that time. Oh well.

“Awesome,” he breathed out. “I was hoping you’d say yes.”

“Yes.” Thankfully he didn’t seem to be deterred by your current lack of language skills.

Poe laughed warmly. “Now, second question. Did it work?”

This time you couldn’t even come up with a verbal response. You just erupted in a bout of giggles, Poe Dameron laughing along with you. And somehow, you got that ridiculous monstrosity of a teddy bear into your back seat.

The somehows kept coming. Somehow you remembered how to use words. Somehow it was well after midnight now without either of you giving it permission to get that late. Somehow your phone refused to end the call. Somehow the hours were slipping by until you had to be at the park for an early opening shift in the morning, and somehow you suddenly didn’t care at all about getting any sleep.

Maybe this job wasn’t so bad, after all.

~end~

Taglist:  @anetteaneta @autumnleaves1991-blog @be-the-spark-flyboy @deeandbobbymcgee @huxdameron @itspdameronthings @jitterbugs927 @nathan-bateman @poedjarin @rosemarysbaby13 @sergeantkane @spider-starry @woakiees @writefightandflightclub @veuliee2 @yourbucky084 @waatermelon-sugaar

Poe Dameron taglist:  @millllenniawrites @the-fifth-marauder-03

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