#and was blissfully unaware of the fact that many people have a super hard time contributing to a convo w/o assistance

[midwestgender]

being over-talkative is literally a nightmare like i dont want people to be annoyed by me and therefore i want to KNOW if i am dominating a conversation space and failing to give quieter/more hesitant people a chance but if someone tells me im talking too much it brings out every childhood insecurity i have ever had and immediately makes me want to stop talking forever and die. the only remedy to this is to utilize my talkative nature to allow opportunities, like specifically asking quiet ppl questions and when they do talk lending them my attention + focus and follow up questions... but that is not something i do on automatic and i have to be like. thinking about my role in a group conversation to do it. which if im in a group where im comfortable i tend to forget about it because i have So Much To Say. Sigh. i must accept my nature.

[ailuronymy]

Thoughts on the new discourse? Warrior cats naming conventions and rank names being straight up stolen from native American people? So many people seem to be... Straight up leaving the Fandom or changing all of their fan content and it feels very performative and, people not actually thinking critically and just being scared of getting "cancelled"? I feel like your opinions on these matters are very informed and well written so I wanted to ask given that this blog main theme is, well, warrior cat naming system and that seems to be the main issue of the new discourse.

This is probably going to get long, since there's sort of a lot to say about it in order to talk about this whole thing fairly and constructively, because from what I’ve seen there’s a lot of hyperbole happening, and panicking, and disavowing this series and fandom, and so on, like you say, and also some people genuinely trying to have complex meaningful conversations about racism in xenofiction, and also probably some bad faith actors in the mix--as well as some just... stupid actors. Kind of inevitably what happens when two equally bad platforms for having nuanced discussions--i.e., twitter and tumblr--run headlong into each other, in a fandom space with a majority demographic of basically kids and highly anxious, pretty online teens. I don’t mean that as a criticism of fans or their desire to be liked by peers and “correct” about opinions, it’s just the social landscape of Warriors and I think it’s worth pointing out from the start.  

If I’m totally honest with you, if not for this ask, I wouldn’t actually be commenting on it at all, because none of this is going to impact this blog or change how I run it in any way. But since you’ve asked and frankly I do feel some responsibility to try to disentangle things a little for everyone stressed and confused at the moment, because I know a lot of people look to this blog for guidance of all sorts, I’m going to talk about what I think has happened here, and how to navigate the situation in a reasonable way. 

Quick recap for anyone blissfully unaware: from what I understand, this post (migrated over from a presumably bigger twitter thread) has got a lot of people very worried about Warriors being a racist and appropriative series, and now are trying to figure out what ethically to do about this revelation. The thing I found most interesting about this screenshotted conversation is that it makes a lot of bold claims, but misses some pretty surprising details (in my opinion). If you do look critically at what is being said, here’s a few things to notice--crucially, there are two people talking. 

Person 1 says that a lot of animal fantasy fiction + xenofiction (fiction about non-human/”other” beings, such as animals) is frequently built upon stereotypes of First Nations and Indigenous people, and/or appropriates elements of Indigenous culture and tradition as basically set dressing for “strange” and “alien” races/species etc., and this is a racist, deeply othering, and inappropriate practice. This person is right. 

I’ve spent years researching in this field specifically, so I feel pretty confident in vouching (for whatever that’s worth) that this person is absolutely right in making this point. Not only is it frequently in animal fiction/xenofiction, but it’s insidious, which means often it’s hard to notice when it’s happening--unless you know what you’re looking for, or you are personally familiar with the details or tropes that are being appropriated. Because of the nature of racism, white and other non-First Nations people don’t always recognise this trend within texts--even texts they’re creating--but it’s important for us all, and especially white people, to be more aware, because it’s not actually First Nations’ people’s responsibility to be the sole critics of this tradition of theft and misuse. Appropriation by non-Indigenous people is in fact the problem, which means non-Indigenous people learning and changing is the solution. 

Person 1 offers Warriors as a popular example of a work that has this problem. Notably, this person hasn’t given an example of how Warriors is culpable (at least in this screenshot and I haven’t found the thread itself, because the screenshot is what’s causing this conversation), only that it’s an example of a work that has these problems. And once again, this person is correct. We’ll look at that more in a moment.

Person 2 (three tweets below the first) offers, by comparison, several more specious insights. Firstly, it’s really, really not the only time anyone’s ever talked about this, academically + creatively or in the Warriors fandom specifically, and so that reveals somewhat this person’s previous engagement in the space they’re talking into re: this topic. In other words, this person doesn’t know what has already been said or what is being talked about. Secondly, this person explicitly states that they “[don’t know] much about warrior cats specifically but from what I see it just screams appropriation,” which as a statement I think says something crucial re: the critical lens this person has applied + the amount of forethought and depth of analysis of their criticism of this particular series. 

I’m not saying that using twitter to talk about your personal feelings requires you to research everything you talk about before you shoot your mouth off. However, I personally don’t go into a conversation about a topic I don’t know anything about except a cursory glance to offer bold and scathing criticisms based on what it “just screams” to me. By their own admission, this person isn’t really offering good faith, thoughtful criticism of the series, in line with Person 1′s tweet. Instead, Person 2 is talking pretty condescendingly and emphatically about--as the kids say--the vibes they get from the series, and I’m afraid that just doesn’t hold up well in this court. 

So now that there’s Person 1 (i.e., very reasonable, important, interesting criticism) and Person 2 (i.e., impassioned but completely vibes-based opinion from someone who hasn’t read the books) separated, we can see there’s actually several things happening in this brief snapshot, and some of them aren’t super congruent with each other. 

Person 1 didn’t say “don’t read bad books,” or that you’re a bad person for being a fan of stories that are guilty of this. They suggested people should recognise the ways xenofiction uses Indigenous people and their culture inappropriately and often for profit. My understanding of this tweet is someone offering an insight that might not have occurred to many people, but that is valuable and important to consider going forward in how they view, engage with, and create xenofiction media.

Person 2 uses high modality, evocative language that appeals to the emotions. That’s not a criticism of this person: they’re allowed to talk in whatever tone they want, and to express their personal feelings and opinions. However, rhetorically, this person is using this specific language--consciously or subconsciously--to incense their audience--i.e., you. Are you feeling called to action? What action do you feel called to when you rea their words, despite the fact their claims are not based in their own actual analysis of or engagement with the text? It’s, by their own admission, not analysis at all. Everything they evoke is purely in the name of “not good” vibes. 

Earlier I mentioned that Person 1 is correct that Warriors is absolutely guilty of appropriation of First Nations and Indigenous people and culture. I also mentioned that they didn’t specify how. That’s because I think the most egregious example is in fact the tribe, which in many ways plays into the exact kind of stereotyping and appropriation of First Nations Americans that Person 1 mentions, and not the clans, contrary to Person 2′s suggestion. For instance, in addition to the very loaded name of “tribe”, there’s a lot of racist tropes present in how that group of cats is introduced and how the clan cats interact with them, as well as the more North American-inspired scenery of their home. It’s very blatant as far as racism in this series. 

When it comes to the clans themselves, though, I think it’s muddier and harder to draw clear distinctions of what is directly appropriative, what is coincidentally and superficially reminiscent, and what is not related at all. Part of this difficulty in drawing hard lines comes from the fact that, on a personal level, it actually doesn’t matter: if a First Nations person reads a story and feel it is appropriative or inappropriate, it’s not actually anyone’s place to “correct” them on their reading of the text. Our experiences are unique and informed by our perspectives and values, and no group of people are a monolith, which means within community, there will always be disagreement and differenting points of view. There is no one single truth or opinion, which means that First Nations people even in the same family might have very different feelings about the same text and very different perspectives on how respectful, or not, it might be. 

I’m saying this because something that gets said very often when conversations of racism and similar oppressive systems present/perpetuated in texts comes up, people frequently say: “listen to x voices.” It is excellent advice. However, the less pithy but equally valuable follow-up advice is: “listen to the voices of many people of x group, gather information and perspective, and then ultimately use your own judgement to make an informed opinion for yourself.” It means that you are responsible for you. The insight you can gain by listening to people who know topics and experiences far better than you do is truly invaluable, but if your approach to the world is simply to parrot the first voice, or loudest voice, or angriest voice you come across, you will not really learn anything or be able to develop your own understanding and you certainly won’t be making well-informed judgements. 

In other words, one incomplete tweet thread from two people who are each bringing quite different topics and modes of conversation (or perhaps gripes, in Person 2′s case) to the table is not really enough to go off re: making a decision to leave a fandom, in my opinion. In fact, I think in responding to anything difficult, complex, or problematic (which doesn’t mean what popular adage bandies it about to mean) by trying to distance yourself, or cleanse of it, will ultimately harm you and will not do you any good as a person. It is better, in my opinion, to enter into complex relationships with the world and media and other people in an informed, aware way and with a willingness to learn and sometimes to make mistakes and be wrong, rather than shy away from potential conflict or fear that interacting with a text will somehow taint you or define your morality in absolutes. 

So. Does Warriors have racist and appropriative elements, tropes, and issues in the series? Yes, of course it does, it’s a book-packaged series produced by corporation HarperCollins and written by a handful of white British women and their myriad ghostwriters. Racism is just one part of the picture. The books are frequently also ableist, sexist, and homophobic (or heteronormative, depending how you want to slice it, I guess), just to name some of the most evident problems. 

But does the presence of these issues mean it’s contaminated and shouldn’t be touched? Personally, I don’t think so. Given the nature of existing the world, it’s not possible to find perfect media that is free of any kind of bias, prejudice, or even just ideas or topics or concepts that are challenging or uncomfortable. I think it’s more meaningful to choose to engage with these elements, discuss them, criticise them, learn from them, and acknowledge also that imperfection is the ultimate destiny of all of us, especially creators.

I’m not saying that as a pass, like, “oh enjoy your media willy-nilly, nothing matters, do what you want, think about no-one else ever because we’re all flawed beings,” but rather that it’s important not to look away from the problems in the things we enjoy, rather than cut off all contact and enjoyment when we realise the problems. That doesn’t mean you have to only criticise and always be talking about how bad a thing you like is either, publicly admonishing yourself or the text, because that’s also not a constructive way to engage with media. 

As I said, there’s a lot to say here, and believe it or not, this is honestly the shortest version I could manage. There’s always more to say and plenty I haven’t talked about, but pretty much tl;dr: 

I don’t find Person 2′s commentary particularly compelling, personally, because I think it’s a little broad and a little specious in its conclusions and evidence, and I also suspect that this person is speaking more from their feelings than from a genuine desire to educate or meaningfully criticise, unlike Person 1. That’s not to say Warriors isn’t frequently racist and guilty of the issues Person 1 is discussing, because it is, but I don’t think this tweet thread is a great source of insight into the ongoing history of this problem in xenofiction, or Warriors specifically, on its own. I would recommend exploring further afield to learn more from a variety of sources and form your own opinions. I hope this helps. 

[drxwsyni]

Paths That Lead Home

Yandere Fae!Tooru Oikawa x f!Reader

Synopsis: In returning home for a family reunion, you’re rescued from being lost in the expansive forest behind town forever. The saviour who calls himself Tooru offers to help you make it through the night of awkward small talk and prying relatives, only for a small thing from you in exchange.

a/n: This is my part for the Lovesick server’s October collab, with the theme of Monsters & Mythical Creatures! Be sure to go give the other super awesome stories in this collab a read!!

5.2k words

Warnings + Themes: Dubcon (w/ praise, dry humping, oral [receiving]), alcohol use, stalking, implied captivity, predatory behaviour.

_____

“Have you settled down with anyone yet, dear?”

“How are your studies coming?”

“My, you look exhausted―are you getting enough sleep?”

“Have you been taking care of yourself?”

“Sweetheart, if you’d like I can introduce you to a few people―you’ve got a beautiful personality.”

• • •

God, you hated family reunions.

Somehow your relatives always managed to be so blissfully unaware at the way their words jabbed at your self esteem. Or maybe they were aware, and truly liked seeing the hints of pain flickering across your face at the intrusive and backhanded questions.

Normally you’d be able to stick it out, but tonight’s gathering had truly brought the worst of the worst. Your hometown was small, and word got around quick that a gathering was being hosted in your uncle's home. It was his fault you were being unceremoniously weighed down with such negativity.

It was his fault you had to run from it.

Maybe if he didn’t not-so-subtly wrap an arm around your shoulder, pulling you to the side and whispering, “Why don’t we go somewhere a little more private, sweetie,” you wouldn’t have fled into the forest behind the large abode.

You all but shoved the greatly unwanted attention away, feeling sick to your stomach as you sought fresh air and un-suffocating surroundings.

The sun still hung in the sky, casting a warm orange hue against the clouds as it slowly set for the night. You crossed your arms over each other, hugging your frame in an attempt to stave off the fall chill as you ventured into the forest’s clear cut path.

Ever since you were a child, the stunning natural beauty of the thick woodland area behind the town always amazed you. It offered an escape, a place to restore your innocence in losing yourself with the rustle of the trees, the breathtaking and vibrant colours of untouched nature. You’d venture down the path, and each and every time, you’d return feeling anew. Whatever ailed you upon breaking past the forest wall was casted out of your body as you happily soaked up the calming atmosphere.

Right now, it was exactly what you needed.

You were practically on the verge of tears as your feet carried you out of the house, twigs snapping underneath the soles of your shoes as you drew further away from civilization. The wind blew past you, cold stinging your eyes and making you wince as you hurried into the woodlands.

It was so easy to get lost in the passing surroundings, trees tall and nature alluringly overgrown. It looked almost ethereal, the sight pulling you deeper.

Before you knew it you’d slowed into a walking pace, heart settling in your ribcage, calmed by the refreshing air and secluded space.

But you were no longer on the trail.

Once you sensed a tinge of panic swelling in your chest, you knew it would only serve to make things more difficult, distracting you as you tried to make sense of where you were.

It was fine, you were fine. You’d explored these woods countless times when you were younger. Surely finding your way home wouldn’t be hard. Just head back the way you came, no problem.

The brisk run you took certainly did something for you, a wave of exhaustion sedating nerves that may have you breaking down under the weight of your own self hatred. For getting lost, which would never have happened if you’d refused the invite to your family reunion. Which you would’ve never received if you cut off those toxic relatives the moment you left town.

And now you were trying to go right back to it, because you couldn’t stay in this forest forever, and you’d got the relief you came for.

With the setting sun, it became increasingly tasking to discern the ground you walked upon. Your search for the narrow path yielded nothing as of yet, and you could’ve sworn that you passed by the same cluster of trees three times now.

While before you may have thought you could still be heading in the right direction, the sudden appearance of hills in your way would prove otherwise.

When you turned around, the area you came from looked quite similar, valleys of thick foliage and steep inclines.

It wasn’t reassuring, to say the least.

You had your phone, but upon closer inspection you found that there was no cell service all the way out here. In any normal case it’d just be best to stay where you were and wait for someone to find you. But these woods were greatly unknown, condensed enough where visibility was dangerously limited, and screams for help would be muffled with the bush.

Your only option was to keep moving forward, and pray that you’d find your way out somehow.

Travelling across the landscape was slow―you fearful of losing your balance on the uneven terrain. The last thing you needed was a sprained ankle, and so you treaded carefully up and down the hills. Nothing that met your eyes was recognizable. With the natural light dimming fast, you knew it wouldn’t be long before you would have to pull out the flashlight on your phone.

When your searching eyes landed upon a flickering light in the distance, you didn’t know whether the feeling of shock or gratitude was more powerful.

Almost blindly, you made your way towards the beacon of light. You watched as it grew brighter, and the closer you got, more gleaming appeared.

What you once thought was a single source was actually many smaller ones.

It was a house built into the side of a steep hill. Lanterns hung from posts and nearby trees, lining the cut walkway all the way to what must have been the front door.

In a place of seemingly unending forest, the existence of life was truly baffling.

Seeing it’s light, the warm illuminate coming from the windows and contrasting the harshness of the encroaching night—it had your feet moving before your mind could make any sense of what to do. A shaky and cold hand came up to the wooden frame of the door, prepared to inquire on whoever was living in this strange little abode.

As your knuckles rapped against it, the door pushed open with ease.

Instantly, the smell of homemade baking and the warmth of a lit fireplace washed over you. With a glance over your shoulder, it wasn’t hard to favour the welcoming atmosphere of this strange home over the foreboding and thick woodlands behind you.

In turning back to the front entrance, you peaked your head in before stepping through the threshold. “Hello? Is anybody home?”

Silence continued to hang in the air as you ventured further, curious eyes swiping over the visible rooms. You ended up in what you assumed was a living room, finding the place to be authentically rustic. Wooden furniture, cozy knit blankets and shiny lit candle sconces hanging off the walls.

The home was quite honestly breathtaking, such a cozy environment. It made you wonder who could be living h—

“It’s been quite some time since I’ve had visitors.”

The sudden smooth voice came from behind you, prompting you to startlingly turn its direction. At a loss for words, because you’d blatantly trespassed onto someone’s property, and they’d caught you in the act, you stared wide eyed at the man before you.

Brown hair, matching the colour of his eyes, tall and fit, his long sleeve shirt that was rolled up to the elbows being tight enough to highlight his lean frame along with dark denim jeans―overall dressed quite nicely for living in the middle of nowhere. He was regarding you with an almost playful look, confusing you as you’d expect him to be downright appalled at your unwarranted intrusion.

The man awaited an answer for a few seconds, and in finding you still speechless, he let out a light chuckle. “Perhaps I should introduce myself—you can call me Tooru. I suppose you’re quite lost, little wanderer?”

He slowly drew closer, taking cautious steps, moreso to not scare you off.

His approach did break you out of your stupor, and suddenly there was no filter on the words tumbling from your lips. “Oh, god. I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude or anything. It’s just I went too far into the forest and I couldn’t find my way home and then out of nowhere I found this place. I should’ve never just walked in but the door was open, and I called out to see if anyone was here but—”

“It’s alright, it’s alright. No need to fret, I’m not upset—quite the opposite in fact. These woods are dangerous, you were lucky to have found my home before nightfall, dear.”

Nervously, you toyed with the ends of your sleeves, opening your mouth to apologize further.

But he had other ideas.

An inquisitive look crossed his strikingly handsome face, “You seem troubled, perhaps I could ease your mind?”

Dismissively, you waved your hands. “N-No, I’m fine, really. Just concerned with finding my way back is all…”

That gleaming smile returned to his face, “Oh well I knew that, cutie. I was talking about something else—what made you come into these woods.”

Still standing in the place he found you, you watched as Tooru walked past and took a seat on the couch. He patted the spot next to him.

A slight crease formed between your brows at the proposition. “It doesn’t really matter, it’s kind of stupid to be honest, so…”

“Don’t be silly, it has to be serious if it had you fleeing into the forest.”

The comment made you pause for a second, because you never told him you ran away. But, judging by your disheveled appearance, and how panicked you were in general, the assumption was technically understandable.

Before you could question it, Tooru spoke up once again.

“Tell you what, cutie. I’ll make you a deal—you explain to me why you ended up here, and in return I’ll help you get home.”

Now, you questioned his sanity more than you questioned your own. “That’s hardly fair, I mean...what do you get out of that.”

Quite comfortably, the man leaned into the couch, legs spread and head tilted back ever so slightly. He gave a small shrug of his shoulders, “Your company, it’s lonely out here after all, and I don’t think I wanna see you off just yet.”

At that, you realized that without his help, the odds of you getting home were slim to none. If all it took to get back was some idle chit chat, then so be it.

With a respectful distance between the two of your bodies, you sat down onto the cushiony couch. Hands folded on your lap, you began reciting the ailments of the night to his strange request.

Tooru listened patiently as you went on, gently encouraging you to keep going when you felt shy under his gaze. At the times you felt you were oversharing, he only reassured you that you were doing everything but the sort. It was the deal, after all.

Almost thirty minutes had gone by, you detailing the detestment you held for your relatives, what they’d said and why it was entirely offensive and unwarranted. How you’d escaped into the expansive forest once you reached your breaking point, remembering how the atmosphere always used to calm you when you were upset as a child. Maybe you rambled a bit too much at your appreciation for the entrancing backwoods, but Tooru didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

If anything, you could almost see a hint of genuine warmth flash across his features as you noted how you admired the natural and effortless beauty of the place. How it seemed to overflow with tranquility, and that you were immensely thankful it remained untouched for so long.

By the time you were done, Tooru was forced to hide the intense swell in his heart at your innocent adoration for the forest he watched over.

You hadn’t changed one bit...

He was devastated the day he learnt you had moved out of town, fearing the worst for your impressionable little self. Tooru only knew you as the young girl who would frolic in the forest to and fro using the path he built so you wouldn’t get lost. Before he could do anything about the growing obsession he had, you slipped right through his fingertips.

He was so sure if you ever did return, that hopeful gleam in your eyes would be turned dull. But here you were, sitting right next to him, only thanks to him subtly scooting closer. Telling him all about how much you found solace in the woodlands, like he didn’t already know that fact in great detail.

The fae sensed your energy the moment you stepped foot past the tree line almost an hour ago, like his own personal breath of fresh air.

He regarded your bashful face at how you once again unintentionally rambled. Tooru wasn’t complaining in the slightest, since the reason you’d returned to him also served as the perfect opening.

“Well, in any case I know you don’t deserve to be treated like that. Such a shame how hurtful people can be.”

Averting your eyes and instead focusing on the lit fireplace, you responded. “I’m guessing most of them just don’t realize what they’re saying is hurtful. But even then―my uncle really couldn’t be any more creepy.” You laughed off the admission, even though the reality had a nervousness stirring inside of you.

“Hmm, I think you just need a little something to ward them off. Why don’t I sweeten the pot a little?” Tooru leaned forward, suddenly much more seriously engaged. “I’ll head home with you tonight, get them off your back. It’d be weird if you left and never returned, and there’s no way you’re going to survive the night if your family acts as nasty as you say they do. I only need one small thing in return, it’s a good deal if you ask me!” While the offer sounded very enticing, him knowing just as much as you that his presence would certainly fend off much unwanted attention, the last part did unnerve you.

“What exactly do you want?”

Tooru stood up from his spot, holding out a hand for you to take. “That’s a surprise for later, my dear. I promise it will be worth it, what do you say?”

Unsure, you hesitated to accept him. But the fearful emotions of throwing yourself right back into the cesspool of prying family members was powerful. Tooru seemed like a good man―he didn’t freak out in finding you uninvited in his home, nor did he push you away when he found you were quite clearly distraught. He was offering to help you make it out of this god forsaken family reunion alive, and only for an apparent small price. Although you didn’t exactly know what that price was, the part of you dreading what would happen should you return alone was more than willing to take your chances.

Gingerly, your smaller hand took hold of his, letting him help you up from your seat.

Quite pleased with your reaction, Tooru took the unspoken agreement and gave you a reassuring smile.

“Perfect, let's get going then.”

_____

The music playing around you seemed like a distant noise, reverberating through the room but not really being something you could focus on. Not when you were so wrapped up both mentally and physically in the way Tooru had you held against him. He spun you to the beat of the song a couple times, his smile wide at the way you carelessly giggled at the action.

Since the both of you returned to the reunion, which by now had turned into a small party, you’d certainly had more than a few drinks.

Neither of you seemed to mind, as your newfound caretaker only facilitated your energy.

In seeing you with this man who was certainly more than easy on the eyes, your once greatly offensive relatives suddenly were behaving the exact opposite as they once had. Most of them left you alone in fact.

Keyword: most.

As the upbeat song came to an end, Tooru could tell you were growing quite tired. He was a great dance partner after all, and it genuinely felt like a workout to keep up with his stylish moves. In an eased motion, he pulled you back into his chest, leaning down to speak into your ear as another song began playing over the speakers.

“How ‘bout we take a break, huh pretty girl?”

With a gentle and reassuring squeeze of your hip, you somewhat mindlessly went along with the suggestion, nodding in response and letting him lead you away from the dance floor. Granted, the ‘dance floor’ was just the outside patio, large enough to serve the purpose as it was no secret your uncle had the wealth to own such a large estate. Tooru kept your hand in his as you both made your way back into the home.

At least you were doing that, until the host of the party, owner of the house and irritatingly touchy uncle that served as the main force which drove you away once tonight stepped into your path.

“Hey there, sweet pea. Where ya headed to?” It was clear he too wasn’t anywhere near sober, the stumble in his step, along with the beer bottle in his hand giving him away.

Before you could answer, Tooru made a point in gently pushing you behind him.

The consideration warmed your heart―but maybe it was just the booze.

“Just taking my girl inside, excuse us.” He made a point to step around your uncle, only to get a warning in the form of a sweaty hand on his shoulder.

Your uncle pushed him back slightly. “Now hold on there, I wanna talk to my niece.”

“And she doesn’t want to talk to you, fucking pervert.”

While your reaction was a little delayed, your uncle’s certainly was not.

He reared his arm back, the one with the bottle in hand. “Why, you little―” As he swung the makeshift glass weapon, a look of pure shock cemented in his features as Tooru gripped the man’s wrist in one hand, still holding your’s with the other.

You hadn’t a clue what Tooru was doing, but somehow the defensive act brought your uncle to his knees. He let out a wordless scream, dropping the beer bottle and letting it shatter against the stone patio.

“She’s not your anything, you’re nothing to her. Just a creepy piece of shit old man―got it?”

He tried wrenching his arm from Tooru’s grip, but it didn’t budge an inch. “The fuck? You her boyfriend or somethin’? Let her decide for her damn se―”

With a particularly harsh twist, you hear something pop in your uncle's arm, before Tooru let him crumple to the ground. You couldn’t even make a single move to stop what was unfolding, the tight grip Tooru had on your own hand a deterrent enough.

With senses still dulled with the influence of countless drinks, you weren’t sure whether to be horrified or relieved that your uncle was getting what he deserved.

The scowl across Tooru’s face as he sneered down at the pathetic man was blood chillingly harsh. “She means more to me than she’ll ever mean to you―that’s all that matters.”

With that, you stayed tormented with conflicted thoughts as you were pulled away from the party. Tooru kept his hold on you firm, unrelenting as he pushed past your relatives and finally away from the house.

At the tree line, right where the path you went down earlier tonight started, you finally tugged at his hand. “S-Stop, Tooru..” It came out as more of a whine, backed up by the way your feet dug into the ground.

He halted abruptly, turning to face you, causing you to lightly crash into him. You could feel his amused chuckle vibrate in his chest, no signs of whatever deeply unpleased vice that once held him still existing now that the two of you were alone.

“Night’s not over yet, cutie. Gotta take you home, we made a deal remember?”

Placing your hands against his broad frame, you pushed yourself away from him, which wasn’t very far when his arms were securely wrapped around your waist. “But, m-my uncle. He looked hurt…”

Slender fingers held your chin, tilting your head up so that your glassy eyes met his soft brown ones.

“He’s fine, don’t worry your pretty little head over that, alright? Just let me look after you for now.”

You knew he was talking about the way you were nearly falling over under the influence, but it didn’t stop the frustrated look from forming on your expression. The way he so casually brushed off how he effortlessly laid out your uncle didn’t sit right with you.

Quite tenderly, Tooru switched to cup your face, thumb absentmindedly swiping across your cheekbone. “You look so cute when you pout like that.”

To his declaration, you pouted more.

Not before a quick pinch of your cheek, Tooru swiftly scooped you up bridal style, starting down the path of the forest. The sudden action made you squeal in surprise, not expecting the sheer strength he exhibited. It was like you weighed nothing more than a feather, him playfully hoisting you further into his arms.

“Hey! Put me down, I can walk jus’ fine!”

He kept his entertained gaze fixed ahead as he responded. “Not gonna happen, just enjoy the ride, we’ll be home before you know it.”

In a final attempt, you annoyingly and weakly pawed against his chest.

“Quite your squirming, it won’t get you anywhere, little wanderer.” Pointedly, you felt his arms constrict around you, effectively pinning you against him, as if you weren’t already stuck before.

A deep and tired sigh escaped your lips. “S’not my home, whatever…”

Having resigned to his will, you slumped against him.

Tooru’s lips quirked up into something a little less soft, more mischievous. Eyes glinting in the moonlight, if not a little brighter now that he was going home.

Not that you saw, having closed your own in favour of a small cat nap while he carried you away from the stresses of the night.

_____

It’s been maybe an hour or so since you decided that you were grateful for not just the way Tooru handled your repulsive relative, but really for spending the whole night with you in general. From making sure you weren’t lost in the forest forever, to playing the dutiful knight, and now, how he was so hospitably entertaining you back in his home―Tooru really did feel like a dream come true.

He was charmingly charismatic, held an almost innate concern for you, honestly making you regret how once you sobered up, you’d have to part for your return back to your own home in the city.

But right now, that’s not what you wanted to think about.

Especially not when you were so comfortable, unable to remember at what point you clambered your way into his lap on the couch, but not really caring. Tooru looked at you like you were the sun, stars and moon, and you returned that gaze through dazed eyes and wetted lashes.

More tears pricked as you straddled his hips, intaking a sharp breath as his mouth slotted against yours once again before he lightly nipped at your bottom lip. It wasn’t the first time he’d done that tonight, you having been in this position for quite some time now.

That didn’t stop Tooru from greedily pulling you closer, fingers digging into your hips as you unconsciously ground against him, a familiar warm sensation budding inside you.

“Such a pretty little thing, you are.” He leant in for a chaste kiss, leaving you wanting more as he pulled away once again. “So goddamn pretty.”

A high pitched whimper tumbled from your lips as your hips picked up a shaky pace, dragging your clothed heat back and forth. Tooru let his hands slide down your body and under the hem of your dress, you shuddering at the heat of his palms when he pushed the fabric up, returning his grip to your bare hips. Still dangerously intoxicated, you didn’t mind the way he pulled and pushed you down on his hardened length in the slightest.

Speaking in between the small kisses he was leaving across your jawline, his breath had goosebumps rising on your skin. “Feel what you do to me?” Tooru met your movements by grinding up against you, the harsh fabric of his jeans pressing against your sensitive clit and earning a mewl from you.

“So needy for me, aren’t you?”

He let out an airy snicker, seeing your desperate expression as he lifted your hips up just enough so that your bodies weren’t touching. His strength was unrelenting as you tried to keep moving.

“Ah, ah, ah. Not yet―first, you hold up your end of the deal―” Tooru leaned forward, whispering in a low and teasing tone, “―and then I’ll give you what you want.”

He was right, you really were needy, because the question of your obligation came out almost instantly. “Please, whatever you want, it’s yours.”

Before answering, Tooru gave pause to land a soft kiss right under your ear.

“Tell me your name, pretty girl.”

A bout of confusion washed over you, causing you to pull back. You regarded him with curious eyes.

“...That’s it?”

The wordless encouragement of the reassuring smile he gave you didn’t do much to ease you.

“That’s it.”

Tooru was clearly waiting for an answer.

Meanwhile, you pondered why this moment spurred a distant and nearly forgotten memory. Maybe it was the strange glint in his eyes, but a moment of clarity washed over you at an all too familiar event.

Back in your old home in the very town you were subjected to travel to for the reunion tonight. When your grandma would scold you as a child for venturing too far into the woodlands you were currently so deep in. A bedtime story that you tried not to take seriously, because part of you knew it was just meant to scare you into submission.

Tales of monsters that looked like humans. Mischievous beings who prayed on innocence, hiding in the forest and luring people deeper. Promises of a better life just being a clever play of words, twisted to hide the true meaning.

“Nasty creatures indeed, my dear. Once they get you, we’ll never see you again. You don’t want that to happen, right? You’ll get snatched up, lost in their games of power when you least expect it, and it’ll leave us devastated. You wouldn’t be so selfish, let those tricky things without a soul take you from us. You’re smarter than that, I’m sure…”

Those warnings instilled fear into the hearts of your peers, their parents and elders telling them the tried and true tale.

Not for you though.

Back into the thick of the bush you would go, and you’d return every time. Just like tonight, you thought you were lost, but even then you found your way home.

While you reminisced, Tooru’s hand drifted lower, playing with the waistband of your panties. The light brushing against your skin brought you back.

“Why do you need my name?”

When Tooru hesitated to give an immediate reply, a voice resembling the cautionary tone of your grandma’s warned of danger to be had in his presence.

Yet with his words, the concern for wariness vanished.

“Well, I think it’s obvious―” In a swift motion, Tooru brought your clothed heat back down, need stirring inside of you and building once again, “―that you’re staying the night.”

“And…” Careful, so as not to startle you, he laid you down on the couch, taking his place above you. “...You know my name, so you know what you’ll be screaming later.”

Nimble fingers hiked up your dress even further, you remaining wantonly complacent as he left a trail of kisses down your stomach.

You felt your body flush with heat, squirming as he slowly made his way lower, peppering every inch of your skin with equal amounts of attention.

Tooru gave you a look filled to the brim with lust, one that was dark, but that fact only made you want to clench your thighs together if he wasn’t holding them apart. “Don’t you think it’s fair that I know the same for you?”

The way his gaze flickered to the wet spot forming on your panties, that cocky smirk he held in knowing just how much he was affecting you made you feel restless.

He began littering the inside of your thighs with small marks, latching on to spots here and there before stopping completely.

“Your name, and then I’ll make you feel better than you’ve ever felt before.”

Lower lip quivering, you wracked your mind in a final moment of decision making. But as his thumb slipped beneath the thin fabric, a soft pad pressing down on your bundle of nerves, there really wasn’t anything you could do to hold back.

“(Y/n).”

For a second, neither of you moved. But Tooru was a man of his word, and you’d been so good for him.

He didn’t want to waste any more time than necessary. Not after all these years of waiting for you to come home.

“Oh…” Leaning up, his fingers hooked under the waistband of your thin covering, whispering smoothly. “(y/n), (y/n), (y/n)...”

Perhaps it was just your inebriated mind playing tricks on you, but as Tooru slowly and teasingly removed your panties, eyeing the string of arousal that clung to the fabric, it seemed like he was nearly glowing. Yet, you didn’t really care, passing it off as the flickering light of the fireplace, much more concerned with the way his hands glided up your bare legs, parting them with a firm grip.

Tantalizingly so, he dipped back down to your heat, watching as you clenched around nothing when his breath fanned against it.

Finally, his tongue delved in between your folds, dragging a long and languid stripe up and causing your breath to hitch. He let out his own groan of relief, the taste of you flooding his mouth, being the sweetest nectar to ever grace his senses.

Now it was his turn to look up at you through beautifully long lashes.

Tooru soaked up the way you waited patiently for him to keep going, behaving so well for him, being exactly where he wanted you to be. Melting right into his hands, in his home, where nobody would ever find you―deep in the territory of his forest.

So compliant, not even realizing the deciding moment of your fate, naively and unknowingly giving yourself up to him.

It was only fair that he rewarded you for such good behaviour tonight. Over and over again, until you’d be begging for him to stop.

You failed to notice how his eyes lit up, swirling with newfound power, and all because of you.

“Just relax, (y/n). I’ll take good care of you.”

[bansheeoftheforest]

Jaylock, specifically with transmasc Jekyll? T4T legends.

Ah yes, my favorite mix; a trans guy who wants to get trample by a big, strong werewolf, and a trans werewolf who is basically just a puppy. Hell yes <3

Also did I say that these were going to be complimentary to canon? Ahahah well I have no idea how to do that with thi- oh yeah it's an au it doesn't have to be canon complaint ahah nvm also realize i keep steering these to how these ship begins but eh no one has complained so far <3

Also at this point I think I will have to put in keep reading links bc these are getting long sjdhfsjdf

MMmokay. We can all agree that Jasper had a huge crush on Henry from the beginning? Good.

Like, Henry saved him from the cops, was incredibly nice to him from the beginning, and showed him/let him join the Society in the first place. Jasper looks up to him a lot. Henry becomes his only real friend (except for Rachel but... Well... She is more out to get with him rather than be friends with him) so of course he would just... Really... Really... Like Henry after a while.

Virginia catches Jasper watching Henry talking to some of the other Lodgers at some point and she knows exactly what he is thinking. He can try defending himself for exactly 3 seconds before all excuses die in his throat and Virginia begins to pat his back.

"That's normal, mate. Everyone has a crush on Henry at some point." - "Everyone????" - "Yep. You won't hear half of this lot admit it, but everyone has had some kind of crush on him." - "Even you?" - "I said everyone, didn't I?"

Cue a lot of embarrassment from Jasper, cue a lot of understanding and sympathetic gossiping by the other Lodgers, cue a lot of "What do you mean that's the best thing about Henry?", cue a lot of "don't worry, you'll get over the crush soon!".

Except he doesn't. He waits days, weeks, maybe even months, but the crush never disappears. The fact that Henry is so stupidly sweet and caring and loves to spend time with him doesn't help Jasper's situation at all. And the Lodgers notice, and the Lodgers tease him about it.

Henry, as often, remains blissfully unaware.

Or at least that's what Jasper thinks. When Henry comes around to his lab to say hi and check in, and when he brings him some sweets that he claims Rachel sent him to give to him, and when Henry just so happens to eye Jasper up and down, Jasper believes that Henry is just being... Friendly. Very friendly.

And he is just being friendly, at least Henry tells himself that too. Or maybe it's the way he sometimes have a hard time looking away from the werewolf that he realizes that he is... Quite accidentally... Being a bit more than friendly.

And then Jasper-- accidentally or inaccidentally-- comes out to Henry. Perhaps it would be like the same panic in canon but him actually confessing to Henry instead, or Henry would maybe accidentally walk in on Jasper changing. Either way, Jasper halfly panics and Henry just gets the brightest grin on his face, so excited, before he immediately tells Jasper that he can be calm because he understands perfectly!

He doesn't even manage to get out that he, too, is trans, before he immediately starts asking Jasper if he has started to medically transitioned-- like "have you had any surgeries? Or have you taken potions? Oh there are a lot of good potions to change-- personally, Lanyon helped me with surgeries but I made some helpful potions for Virginia-- Oh did you know Virginia is like us, too? But reverse, of course--"

Henry is just. Rambling to poor Jasper. Poor Jasper who is permanently stuck in a :O. He can barely process the words that his very own crush is telling him. For a moment his brain shortcuts and all he can do is to stare at Henry-- the way he is so wildly gesturing as the words roll off of his tongue at 100 words per second. But then Henry notices Jasper's confusion, and he stops, and he repeats himself. He is trans, too.

It ends up with the two of them having a long, long conversation about gender identity as the evening wears on. Henry tells Jasper practically everything he knows about it. He tells him how it wasn't until he started puberty that he realized that it felt wrong, but he couldn't fully transition until later on in life. Lanyon helped him with surgeries but it wasn't until he fully started playing into alchemy that he found and created potions that could help with transitions.

To make a long story short, Henry promises to help Jasper with transitions.

Maybe that's why they suddenly kept getting closer after that. They could relate to each other. Suddenly they wanted to spend more time together. Oh wow huh they are really spending a lot of time together. Wow they are sitting really close... Huh... Wow, wow, wow, Henry is certainly in Jasper's personal space... And Jasper is not pulling away...

Oh wow they smooching. So much smooching. So much smooching yet it's so soft and careful and gentle, Jasper practically melts; melts into the kiss just as much as he melts into Henry's arms.

Aight now some time for the actual relationship hcs.

Hai yes I have said this with every ship so far but consider; cuddles. Jasper is a cuddle bug, Henry craves the warmth and affection.

(Both of them can agree that their favorite cuddles are the full moon cuddles when Jasper is just. A fluffy werewolf. And Henry can bury his entire self into his fur).

Boyfriends helping each other with hormone injections? Boyfriends helping each other with hormone injections.

Sometimes Henry will be very swamped in paperwork, sometimes Jasper wants cuddles, sometimes they compromise and Jasper gets to sit on Henry's lap while he does paperwork. Sometimes Zosi or Christopher will be jealous and it will end up with them in Jasper's lap, too.

Jasper is the only one that supports Henry's obsession with wanting every pet he finds. Jasper is also Henry's alibi when a new stray animal ends up in the Society ("ahah what do you mean "new stray" that's Abby, y'know, one of Jasper's pets").

Jasper's main goal in life is to hear Henry talking in his Scottish accent as much as possible. Jasper is the only one Henry allows to hear it.

Cuddles in bed with Jasper tracing Henry's chest scars (is... Is there an actual word for those scars? Ahaha I don't know) and Henry stroking his hands over Jasper's sides, almost happy that Jasper didn't have to go through surgeries like he did.

Rachel and Robert teasing Henry for having a thing for werewolves? Rachel and Robert teasing Henry for having a thing for werewolves.

So many smooches. Henry can't keep his lips off of Jasper for more than a minute most of the time. So many hugs and so many cuddles after a long day of boring meetings and socializing. Jasper always giggles because he is super ticklish.

Henry reading a book or the newspaper on the couch, reading glasses hanging low on his nose, drinking a glass of wine with his free hand while Jasper is seated on his lap, head rested against his shoulder as he gently snoozes bc poor boy is tired <3

Henry has... Stupidly many nicknames for Jasper. "Fluffball", "Fluffpuff", "Sweetheart", "Wolfie", "My Mister", "Little Sir". He literally will come up with something on the spot and stick with it because Jasper will always giggle and blush.

Surprisingly, Henry is the clingy one. He is also the small spoon most of the time. Man is just skin and bone, he can curl up perfectly so that Jasper, i.e chubby and strong legend McGee, can hold him <3

Virginia third-wheels them a lot. It will start as her trying to have a conversation with her mentor and fellow trans legend and then they will be interrupted by a clingy (and also fellow trans legend) Jasper who came to Jekyll's office in the search for some attention and affection. It ends up with Jasper on Henry's lap while Henry continues his conversation with Virginia like nothing happened.

Jasper was the first one to get to know about Hyde. He was... Surprisingly unbothered and casual about it. That was, at least, until Hyde pinned him against a wall one night and began to flirt with him. Jasper was quite sure his face exploded with blush.

Hyde loves to tease Jasper. Henry constantly tells him off for being... Ah, well, uhm... AH... Too "flirty" with him, so to speak. Jasper has learned to turn the other way and run every time he catches the sight of blond hair or a whiff of spearmint unless he wants to get a heart attack.

Have I told you how much I love the thought of werewolf cuddles?

Also, full werewolf!Jasper basically losing his... Um, sense of awareness? Like he forgets that he is human and he often forgets who the people in his surroundings are, unlike when he was a half-werewolf and fully aware.

What I'm saying is; give me werewolf!Jasper being so incredibly curious by Henry and sniffing him everywhere, somehow opening his shirt just so he can lick his scars because the pack and mate instincts in Jasper is through the roof and his mate is hurt why is he hurt wHO HURT HIM hE SHALL HEAL HIM THROUGH THE POWER OF KISSES.

Henry kissing Jasper's snout. Henry rubbing Jasper's belly. Henry constantly praising and complimenting Jasper.

Henry always making sure Jasper knows how handsome and manly he is. Henry always making sure that Jasper has clothes that aren't torn or dirty and that are comfortable and fits well. Henry doting on Jasper.

Jasper always being there for Henry when things get rough. Jasper stating everything that he loves with Henry and kissing him on the nose when all Henry wants to do is smash his head against the desk and cry. Jasper and Henry taking care of each other <3

[z0mbunny]

some of the apex legends characters negative traits!!! because i’m tired of them being one dimensional

wraith: paranoia. the voices certainly haven’t helped but i also think she just gets so in her head about things that she just starts to doubt everything and everyone. her trust has been betrayed so many times before when she was treated as an experiment that it’s hard for her to get close to people. this trait isn’t unreasonable considering her past, but it isn’t super healthy either.

mirage: self-centered. mirage isn’t self-centered solely in the way of him only caring about himself, but he is self-centered because he usually only does things if they benefit him in some sort of way. he’s the only thing on his mind most of the time. mirage does things for attention and because people will pay attention to him. his persona also comes off as arrogant sometimes too so that probably doesn’t help.

wattson: anger. wattson does have an angry side to her that she struggles to control. she may come off as two-faced because of how little she shows her anger. she feels as though she has to act super happy and optimistic all the time that she never had the chance to work through her anger. she doesn’t know what to do with it, so when it comes out, it really does come out. and it’s scary too, because it’s an endless river of rage until she’s too burnt out to keep going.

octane: self-destructive. octane is either blissfully unaware or willingly unaware of the fact that his self-destructiveness affects other people. he nearly gets himself killed all the time and it hurts the people who truly care about him. octane hurts himself over and over and over again because he doesn’t view himself as something worth saving or protecting, so what does that say about the people who think he is?

loba: childish. loba acts very childish for her age, something that’s always stuck with her since she was young. she’s spoiled, she’s immature, she never really seemed to “grow up” and it doesn’t help that she refused the chance to as well. she’s petty, especially in arguments. she’ll use insults, she’ll yell, she’ll do whatever she has to in order to win and it’s Extremely childish.

horizon: motherly (in a bad way). since she was a mother, horizon has a very… motherly way to her, but not in the nicest way. she guilt trips and she never really says what she means and when angry, she never fails to make you feel like a scolded child. she can be patronizing, she can be passive aggressive. it’s a very “i am the parent and you are the child” power dynamic if she has the influence and control over you. it makes you feel weak and helpless in comparison alone.

caustic: manipulative. this should be obvious. caustic doesn’t see other people as people—they’re either useless or an object for him to mess around with and then get rid of when he can’t use them anymore. everyone’s disposable, even those he claims to “respect”. he always has to make himself better than everyone in some form and has a fucking meltdown when you don’t just go along with whatever he says. he’s always right and he will do whatever it takes to “prove” it.

[the-gay-prometheus]

(AU Segment) “Second Chances”

Ok so- after almost two weeks I finally freakin finished it. It might be a little messy because I have done absolutely zero proof-reading on it because I’m just happy to have finally finished it 🙃

Anyways...

This is another little segment of my work-in-progress Frankenstein AU that still has yet to have a solid plot other than “Victor agrees to live with the creature on the mountain they meet on as an alternative to creating a companion for him. And also Henry comes to live with them too because he can’t stand to be without his boyfriend™.” An actual plot is in the works but... I’m currently thinking about revamping all that I have of it so far and also completely changing the setting of it.

No warnings needed for this segment to my knowledge! Just a nice moment of interaction between Henry and the creature with a little bit of clervenstein toward the end. It’s not super long but it is 5 google docs pages single spaced so uh- it’s also not super short - just a lil heads up.

Likes, comments, reblogs appreciated as always if you feel inclined to do... any of those things. 

Oh! Also- before getting into it - I still need name ideas for this AU. I want to do something like “The <blank> Prometheus,” but I don’t know what word I want to put there so uh- if anyone has any ideas... send them my way ;~;

Henry pulled his coat tightly around him and shuddered as he stepped out into the frigid night time mountain air, clouds of mist drifting away from him with each breath. He glanced around, searching the moonlit ledge until his eyes set upon a cliff just a short climb above. On that cliff sat a familiar tall figure, staring upward into the starry sky as his long hair drifted in the chilly breeze. Henry rubbed his hands to let friction warm them, then made his way toward the cliff. He took his time to carefully climb up, then sat down beside the figure - his lover’s creation - who leaned away as soon as he sat beside him.

“You should not be out here,” the creature mentioned. “It is far too cold.”

“Neither should you,” Henry answered, trying to keep his teeth from chattering.

“The cold does not affect me in the same way that it affects you,” the creature countered simply. “I am fine - you should be inside with Victor.”

“Actually, I was just talking to Victor. He agreed that I should come out here and try to talk to you.” The creature glanced toward him, his yellow eyes ever so slightly glowing in the dark of the night, but turned his face away after only a moment, pulling the hood of his cloak over his face. “You don’t have to hide from me, you know. I’m- I’m not afraid of you.”

“I do not doubt that you are not afraid - I cannot imagine you would be out here if you were,” the creature replied. “I am merely sparing you from the sight of me. I know well that I am a hideous wretch.”

“I don’t think of you as a hideous wretch.” Henry paused, looking up toward the sky. “I think you are… fascinating, really.” The creature pulled some of the fabric of his hood away so he could look back toward Henry.

“Fascinating is not a word I think many would use to describe me.”

“Well - I’m not ‘many,’ now am I?” Henry glanced toward him with a smirk, but the creature simply turned away with a shaky, labored sigh. Henry’s smirk turned to a more solemn expression as he returned his sight to the stars. “It’s true, though. I think you are… incredibly fascinating.” The creature didn’t reply, except to shrink away from him and cling tighter to the edges of his cloak. “I mean, think about it - how many people get a second chance at life?”

“Victor can argue whatever he wants, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are very much a person. Sure, you may have been made rather than born, but what difference does that make? After all, there are plenty of people who would argue that regardless of birth, all of us are intelligently made. And just think - how lucky you are to know your creator while the rest of us are all destined only to wonder,” Henry explained. He turned to look toward the creature with a sympathetic smile. “Of course, unlucky for you it happened to be Victor, who can barely take care of himself let alone an entire other person,” he joked. The creature couldn’t help but smile a little - it was true, comically true, in a way. His creator was no god, he was just a young man searching for answers and glory, but who left himself and everyone else behind along the way. “Anyways, with regard to your first question, I would say it is. In fact, I would say that’s the best kind of second chance. You’re not burdened by any preconceived notions about what life is or about how the world works, you started your new life with no worry of money or the trivial squabbles of man; you just existed as you were and as you are, perhaps a bit confused and a bit lost, but when you emerged into the world what you saw first shaped you in a way that most people have not been exposed to.”

“Is it a second chance if I cannot even recall the life… or perhaps I should say lives I had before?” the creature began, tracing over the scars on his arm as though he were trying to find memories within each graft of skin that existed there. “For that matter… am I even a person?” He paused, his hands dropping to his knees. “Even my own creator would argue that I am not.” 

“Most people awake in their first moments to find a mother’s embrace or a father’s kind smile. From the moment I took my first breath I was not just miserably alone, but actively feared and hated, Henry. This is not the kind of ‘second chance’ I would wish on anyone,” the creature said quietly, staring down off the cliff’s edge into the dark valley far below. Henry sighed softly with a shiver from the cold.

“I… I am afraid I do not understand your meaning.”

“You know that now, but did you know that then?”

“I mean - did you know that the reaction you saw was a reaction of fear?” The creature thought long and hard about that statement, trying to recount the memory he had chosen to repress.

“I suppose not,” he replied at a length. “I was… confused, and somewhat afraid myself, but I did not understand the meaning of his reaction. I thought it was normal. How should I have known any differently?”

“So what did you do? How did it affect you in that moment?”

“I tried to follow him but I was… still unsteady. He was far too nimble-”

“Ha! Victor? Nimble? That’s funny,” Henry interrupted with a laugh, though he quickly stifled himself and cleared his throat. “...Go on.”

“For my unsteadiness, he was far too nimble,” the creature restated, giving Henry somewhat of a disappointed glance before returning his gaze to the valley below. “So, assuming that I was simply not meant to follow him, I decided to wander elsewhere.”

“Which means in that moment, you had no assumptions of mistreatment, correct?”

“In that moment, yes, that is correct.”

“And where did you go, then?” The creature looked up to him, brow slightly furrowed from confusion.

“I have… already told you this story before, Henry,” he mentioned with uncertainty. “Why must I tell it again?”

“Because I want you to hear yourself tell it. And this time, I want you to actually think about how you felt in each moment,” Henry answered with certainty. The creature stared for a moment, then dropped his gaze downward once again.

“I found myself in a nearby forest,” he began. “It was cold, and dark, and I was still afraid, but I looked upward and saw the moon and the multitude of stars against the night sky. For some reason this sight gave me… comfort. I had no words with which to describe what I saw or what I felt, but it was a moment of serenity. The days following as I learned more about my surroundings were much the same. My fears were allayed by a sudden sense of curiosity and wonder at the life which surrounded me - and everything was certainly alive. Yes, the flora and fauna, but also the stream as it rushed along its way, and the stones in their cold stillness. I felt…” He paused, lifting his gaze to the horizon. “Connected; to all of it. I did not know who or what I was, but I knew I was alive, and for the time being, that was all I needed to know.”

“Those were your most formative moments. Unbound by the values and traditions of our time, blissfully unaware. The rest of us may have had people in our lives from the moment we were brought into this world, but for many, that isn’t necessarily a good thing. We become biased from the very moment we learn how to speak, taught and told how to think or act. Yet there you were, untethered, and instead of finding your sole connection in the eyes of mankind, you found yours in the purity of nature itself.”

“What good has that brought me, though? I happened upon mankind regardless of my contentedness within the woods, and promptly yearned for a place among them, only to be beaten and shunned away for no cause other than my appearance alone. Mine is a miserable existence.” The creature turned away after he had spoken, clenching his eyes shut and gritting his teeth at the sudden pang of sorrow that throbbed deep in his scarred chest. 

“Tell me how you see the world,” Henry answered, resting a shivering hand gently on the creature’s arm. The creature heaved with a breath, holding back tears as even a simple comforting touch such as this was so rare and so precious to him.

“It is,” he began, taking a moment to think. “a cold, dreadful place full of hatred and malice.” His voice, though clearly wrought with pain and some slight sense of anger, sounded uncertain. Henry looked to him.

“You’re describing the world of men. Describe the world itself to me,” he insisted. The creature didn’t respond for a length of time, instead shuddering as he held back tears, but then finally breathed a heavy sigh and opened his yellowed eyes and stared off into the distance beyond the peaks that rose and fell across the horizon.

“The world is…” He paused as he gathered his thoughts again. “The world is a dawn chorus, each bird singing sweetly in its own tune, somehow both melodious and cacophonous all at once. It is... the painted sky as the sun sinks down to dusk, the way each color blends and shines, and the way the clouds glow with golden light, a fleeting work of art that fades into darkness and is never the same twice.” He breathed deeply, slowly closing his eyes as his expression of concentration and contemplation turned to a contented smile. “It is the way the stars shine brightest when the moon hides itself away, and the pale silver gleam that all things acquire when the moon is at its fullest. It is the silence of a heavy snowfall and the deafening roar of thunder, the glitter of ice and the blinding sight of lightning. It is the lonely shriek of the fox and the communal cry of the wolf, the powerful bellow of an elk and the gentle bleat of a deer.” His eyes reopened and he turned toward Henry, who was now staring up at him with a look of astonishment on his face. “The world is wonderful and terrible, familiar and strange, lovely and frightening. It is like fire, which both warms and burns, dances and destroys. Though it is not always kind, I am inclined to search for the beauty and kindness that does exist within it.” 

“Incredible,” Henry breathed, dropping his hand from the creature’s arm to wipe away the tears that had welled in his eyes. The creature flinched and turned his gaze away as Henry’s hand fell away, instinctively reaching up and placing his own hand in the open space that Henry had left as though he just needed to feel something there, as though he wasn’t quite ready to exist alone again. “That’s what makes you a second chance worth taking,” Henry continued, smiling as he put a hand over the creature’s. “I am absolutely sure that none of those who were used to make you saw the world in such an awe-inspiring, beautiful way.” The creature turned to him with a curious tilt of his head.

“How can you be so sure?” he asked, slowly pulling his hand away and bringing it up to his face as he inspected each stitched-on piece of skin that covered it. 

“Well… People tend to take on the views of whatever surrounds them for their first true moments of consciousness, I’ve found. It leaches into who they are. When we are surrounded by the life we’re meant to have - a life free from the confines we created for ourselves in the name of ‘civility,’ - we open ourselves to exactly what makes us human to begin with.” The creature opened his fingers, gazing at Henry from between them.

“And what is it that makes…” He hesitated, eyes shifting from side to side as he considered what he was about to say before locking with Henry’s once again, “us human?” Henry grinned, warmth filling him despite the cold for the joy of hearing the creature speak of himself as one of them rather than as some horrible thing.

“Curiosity,” he replied simply. “Curiosity is what makes us human, but far too many of us have lost our sense of it. Yet here you are, curious and full of wonder. How many of those whose parts made you can say that they felt the same in their lifetime? I’d hazard to guess very few, if any.” He lifted a shaky, shivering hand and gently pushed the creature’s hand down so they could see each other truly eye to eye. “You are their collective second chance. Yes, it hasn’t been easy. Yes, you have done things you have come to regret. Any other man would have become all but lost to his misery, but you, in your endless search for the good and beauty you found in your most precious moments of life, have chosen not only to try to be better, but to never lose sight of that same inspiration that made you who you are. I can’t imagine a better second chance than one such as yours - regardless of the hardships you have endured and have still yet to endure.” The creature stared at him, mind reeling with what he had just heard. Leave it to Henry Clerval to once again make him feel not just like somebody worthy of life, but somebody worth celebrating. He blinked away tears, retracting his hand to wipe away those which had already fallen upon his pale yellowed cheeks, and was just about to speak when a new voice took both his and Henry’s attention away.

“Do you… mind if I join you both?” Victor stood behind them, wrapped in a large, heavy wool blanket. Henry smiled, moving over to make room for Victor beside him.

“Not at all. I could use the extra warmth,” he mused. Victor smiled slightly, shakily walking over and sitting close to Henry. Henry took one end of his blanket and wrapped it around himself, making sure the other end was also fully covering Victor so the two of them were snug within it. The creature watched them for a moment, then turned his eyes toward the stars.

“Long enough,” he answered softly, pressing himself closer to Henry and laying his head on his shoulder. There was silence between the three of them, Victor slowly closing his eyes and breathing a soft sigh as Henry wrapped his arm around him and held him close.

“How long have you been standing there?” he asked suddenly. Victor glanced up at him.

“Henry says I am… incredible,” the creature mentioned, breaking the silence for no reason other than that he was still processing all that had just been said. Henry looked to him with a smile.

“And he’s right to say so,” Victor answered after a long pause. Both Henry and the creature looked to him simultaneously in shock. Victor opened his eyes and looked up at them both. “I’ve just been too blind to see it.” 

“That almost sounded like an apology,” Henry remarked with a smirk. “I thought you didn’t do apologies.”

“I don’t,” Victor grumbled defensively. “Not usually, anyways. And that wasn’t an apology, it was… an observation.” 

“I appreciate your… observation, Victor,” the creature murmured, unsure of what else to say or how else to respond. After so many months of hearing his creator berate him and call him such horrid, disgusting names, it was still always a shock when those rare moments came that Victor acknowledged his existence in a positive way - much less rare now that Henry was here, of course, but still rare all the same. Victor, also unsure of how to respond, simply glanced up at him and muttered,

“Your appreciation is duly noted.” Henry chuckled softly at the awkwardness between the two of them, and gently tapped Victor’s shoulder.

“I think it’s time we get some rest,” he said quietly. He turned toward the creature. “As long as you’ll be alright, that is.” The creature nodded.

“Thank you, Henry. You have been very generous. I believe I will be well.” Henry gave a curt nod in return, and pulled the blanket off of himself to drape it back over Victor before standing and extending a hand. Victor gripped the blanket around himself as he reached out and took Henry’s hand with the other, the two walking off and disappearing as they helped one another climb their way back down. 

“Did you mean what you said just then?” Henry inquired as they walked back to their cabin home on the ledge, hand still firmly gripping Victor’s own.

“I did,” Victor answered with a nod. As they approached, Henry reached for the door, and Victor’s hand slipped from his as he hesitated. Henry stopped just as he opened it, turning toward Victor with a curious expression. “As I listened to him speak I realized something I hadn’t quite realized before.”

“Oh? What would that be?”

“He’s a lot like you - in the way he thinks and speaks, that is.” Henry was about to respond, but Victor took him by surprise as he suddenly wrapped his arms around him and embraced him tightly. “And you’re the most incredible person I know.” Henry was shocked, as Victor was rarely the one to initiate physical contact, but hugged him even tighter in return.

The creature sat alone on the cliff, listening intently to the two voices below as he stared up at the sky. Brushing a lock of hair that fell over his face behind his ear, he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. His eyes followed a comet as it passed through the stillness of the stars, and smiled as he continued to recount all that had been said. As he heard the door of the cabin click closed, he rested his hands on the stone of the cliff and leaned back to look up at the moon. “How delightful, dear moon,” he began as though speaking to it directly, “to be given the second chance to be something incredible-” He paused, and slowly closed his yellow eyes with another soft sigh. “to be something human.”

[theprinceofflies]

Theater teachers Wilford and JJ. Wilford is more of the one that plans out the sets and helps kids when it comes to projecting their voice or putting emotion into it. While JJ is more of a play write. He picks out or writes the plays the do and he helps the kids when it cones to timing and body language. The two are in love and everyone knows it but them

Principal Dark and computer teacher Anti. Anti is constantly teaching the students how to get past the school’s firewall so they can play game and never give homework, surprisingly not many people take his class though because the work that is given can be incredibly hard. Dark is constantly seeing him on the office because of parents that don’t like the fact he’s teached their kids how to get past the blocks they put up or use their correct name and pronouns. However most of those meetings in the office end up with them making out. They both say they hate each other but they have been married for years.

Wilford will grab JJ to preform a romantic scene. They’ll get really into if before Wilford will do a stage kiss. (A kiss where you don’t actually kiss but it looks like it to the audience usually used for school students).

JJ will help students write dialogue. Wilford will watch and smile softly. JJ will sometimes pitch his ideas for his writing and Wilford will act them out for him.

Everyone in the school wants them to get together (Cept the bullies) and will try and get them to confess. nothing has worked. At one point someone pushed them into a closet together and nothing happened.

Wilford is trying to come to terms with his feelings and JJ understands his own feelings but has repressed them to the point he is blissfully unaware.

Anti is super chaotic. One of his students managed to hack into government softwhere and Anti, instead of being the good teacher, helped them get in further.

He’s also helped kids change their pronouns and name in the database. (Something that is quite hard to do I’m trying)

Dark is constantly having to fix the fire wall because Anti is a menace.

whenever Dark walks into Antis room everyone clicks to a new tab except Anti. He’ll stare at Dark and ask him whats wrong. Dark will roll his eyes and walk away.

Them making out in Darks office because Anti hacked into the government again.

Parents come in to complain about Anti and Dark will say he’ll do something and do nothing. The kids never to anything bad, just changing their or their friends names. Usally its harmless pranks.

Once a parent came into complain about Wilford and JJs romance and how their child was corrputed. Dark nearly punched them.

JJ and Wilford once had to preform Romeo and Julets death scene. Wilford forgot how to do a stadge kiss and just kissed him. JJ being the good actor he was stayed still. THe entire theater class was in tears and JJ locked himself in a dressing room because he was so embarrassed.

[andorerso]

let the cat out of the bag

Modern AU. M-rated, no smut but lot of references to sex. Super silly!

It starts after the first time they sleep together.

They aren’t dating, they aren’t even friends – but he’s the hot classmate she always had a thing for, and when they’re paired up for a project that leads her to invite him up to her apartment to prepare, she can’t hold herself back anymore.

It’s clearly mutual; she hasn’t picked up on it before, but it’s hard to ignore it then. Cassian is giving her signals, flirting even, and she doesn’t think too much of it before she kisses him. His response is pretty enthusiastic, and it isn’t long before their clothes disappear.

Studying blissfully forgotten – for the time – Jyn has the pleasure of enjoying the best sex of her life. And that’s all it’s supposed to be. They both agree that neither of them has time for a relationship, but that doesn’t mean they can’t enjoy the hot sex between them every once in a while, and hot sex, it is. A quick discussion in bed to make sure they’re on the same page, and they move right onto round two. Then three and four.

Truthfully, they don’t get any studying done that night.

Then between rounds three and four, Cassian gets up to get a quick snack for themselves from her fridge while she goes to use the bathroom. She finds him scratching her cat’s ears when she emerges, totally unaware of the incredulous stare she’s giving him.

“Hey, cute cat,” he says, his lips quirking up into a smile when Mimi arches her body towards him, butting his palm with her head. She’s purring, and Jyn feels like she’s in a different dimension. “What’s her name?”

“Uhm.” Shaking her head free of confusion, she says, “Mimi. She usually doesn’t take to strangers like this.”

That’s an understatement. Mimi looks like a harmless floof, and it usually lures unsuspecting victims into underestimating her, which is a big mistake to make. She has a vicious streak; many a guest and even friends have ended up with nasty scratch marks for daring to try and touch her. Bodhi is terrified of her to this day and jokingly calls her Jyn’s “doppelganger.”

“She’s you in cat form,” he told her affectionately. Jyn rolled her eyes but he wasn’t too far off.

Mimi doesn’t like strangers and she doesn’t trust them. She isn’t a particularly affectionate cat to begin with, not even with Jyn – who is undoubtedly the only person she seems to tolerate.

So it’s a shock, to say at least, to see Cassian rubbing Mimi behind her ears and his hand not being bitten off. In fact, Mimi’s eyes are closed in contentment, a low purring sound reverberating through her tiny body. Jyn almost feels a little jealous – but of who, she isn’t sure.

Cassian looks up at her with a quirk of his lips, eyes sparkling in amusement.

“Guess I’m special then.”

Then it goes on.

Jyn brings Cassian home one night, pushing him to the sofa and crawling into his lap without much preamble, attaching her mouth back to his. She grabs his cock, not in the mood for foreplay, and hears Cassian hiss in response. But just as she’s about to take off her shirt, Mimi jumps up on the couch and meows loudly.

Jyn breaks away in surprise. It isn’t like her cat to be so needy – but as she blinks at Mimi in confusion, she realizes she isn’t groveling for her attention.

Of course.

Cassian laughs in amusement, like this is all funny, and reaches out to give Mimi an affectionate pat on the head.

“Hey, Mimi. Missed me, did you?”

What the fuck is going on.

Jyn stares at them both incredulously. She’s just trying to get some good dick, goddammit, and here is her own cat, usually a grouch, being a cockblock because she decided she’s just as putty in Cassian Andor’s hands as any other girl.

He really has a certain effect on the female population but this is ridiculous.

Jyn clears her through loudly, drawing Cassian’s attention back to her.

“Sorry, do you wanna keep playing with that pussy or mine?”

“Jesus, Jyn.”

Surprise etched on his face, she feels a momentary thrill of satisfaction at having scandalized him.

“Too much?”

“No, that’s… that’s fine, just – not in front of your cat.”

“Come on, she can’t understand you.”

“It’s weird.”

As they’re talking, Mimi puts her little paw on Cassian’s shoulder as though she is begging for his attention, like the desperate little whore she is. Jyn gives her a glare. Traitor.

“You just like her because she likes you.”

“Yeah, so? I must be doing something right here.”

“I’ll show you something right,” she murmurs somewhat menacingly, then kisses him again, pushing his chest until he’s lying fully on his back. Perfect.

Maybe she’ll suck his dick now. She would bet he won’t be thinking about her cat then.

Satisfied with that plan, she reaches for his jeans and promptly undoes his zipper. He gives her a weird look and glances sideways at Mimi who’s now sitting on the armrest, watching them curiously. Jesus.

“Uhm, Jyn? Can we move this to your bedroom? I don’t want your cat to see my dick.”

She rolls her eyes but stands up, landing him a hand. “Why not? I walk around her naked all the time.”

“And I’m sure she’s very traumatized from that,” he jokes, earning himself a punch to the chest. As she turns around, his echoing laughter follows her all the way inside her bedroom.

Jyn complains about it to Bodhi a few weeks later, grumbling about how her own cat likes her fuck buddy more than she likes her. It’s some sort of karmic joke for sure.

“I swear he’s the cat whisperer or something,” she groans.

Bodhi hums noncommittally. His expression is too neutral which is… worrying.

“Maybe Mimi is onto something.”

She blinks at him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that she literally hates everybody but you.”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Jyn protests feebly. “She’s just not a fan of people.”

“But somehow, she likes this guy,” Bodhi goes on, ignoring her intervention. “Think maybe she’s picking up on your feelings?”

“You’re reaching,” Jyn tells him firmly, ignoring the way her heartbeat speeds up for some reason. “I don’t even know him.”

“You know him plenty well from what I understand.”

Jyn rolls her eyes again.

“It’s not gonna happen, Bodhi.”

“Sure, okay,” he agrees like the good sport he is. She can tell he doesn’t agree but he isn’t the type to push. “But I’ll tell you this – your cat is smarter than you.”

And Jyn punches his shoulder.

She’s literally riding Cassian when there’s a distinct high-pitched meow from the other side of the door. Jyn stops bouncing on his dick, turning her incredulous stare to the closed door of her bedroom. Cassian laughs.

“Oh, you gotta be kidding with me.”

“Ignore it,” he tells her, grabbing her chin and tilting her face back to his.

“But –” she begins but can’t finish as Cassian gives her a searing kiss and rolls his hips up to hers. Fuck it. Ignore it, she will.

In the end, the noises they make are louder than Mimi’s anyway.

When Cassian is leaving that night, Mimi runs quickly to his feet, a ball of white fluff as she circles his legs, purring. And wailing. Wailing, it seems, to stop him from leaving.

Jyn buries her face in her hand, embarrassed beyond belief, but Cassian is, of course, incredibly amused by all this. She almost wonders if he actually likes Mimi more than her.

“Hey, what is it?” he asks as he crouches down and gives Mimi another good rub under her chin. Jyn’s heart gives a strange beat at the sight. “Wanna come with me? I don’t think Jyn would like that very much.”

“Take her,” she deadpans, dedicated to ignoring the weird fluttering in her stomach. “She clearly likes you more.”

He stands up, smirking at her. “We have a connection. Don’t be jealous.”

“Of who?” she retorts, her tone sarcastic… though, it could have been a serious question.

Cassian doesn’t answer but his smile widens. Almost like he sees right through her act. She can’t tell if it thrills or makes her uncomfortable.

“Goodnight, Jyn.”

He leans in to kiss her cheek, her eyes fluttering shut at the unexpected gesture. She keeps them firmly closed even as she hears him bend down to give Mimi one more affectionate rub before grabbing his coat.

At the sound of her closing door, Jyn’s eyes open, her breath leaving her chest in a whoosh. She stares at Mimi with unconcealed resentment as the cat blinks up at her in innocence.

“This is all your fault.”

So.

Maybe she’s catching feelings. Whatever. It’s fine.

It’s just her stupid cat’s fault – seeing them together, seeing him so in tune with her, it’s messing with her head. Mimi is a pain in the ass but she’s Jyn’s baby, and she’s never met anyone who actually liked her and wasn’t mildly scared of her.

That’s all. If she doesn’t see them together anymore, she’ll be fine.

The next time Cassian comes over, Jyn has locked Mimi in the kitchen with fresh water and plenty of food to last her the night. The little devil has nothing to complain about. But as soon as Cassian arrives and they start taking their clothes off, scattered along the hallway, Mimi begins to scratch at the door, wailing tragically. Jyn pretends she doesn’t hear but Cassian does not.

“Hey, isn’t that Mimi?” he gasps, out of breath as Jyn is kissing down his bare chest.

She glances up at him with a pointed look. “Are you here to see her or me?”

Then she swirls her tongue around his nipple which renders him speechless for a moment.

But he doesn’t give up. “Doesn’t she want to come out?”

Jyn pulls away now, straightening to look at him. “She’ll be fine. But if you don’t have your fingers in me in the next five minutes, I won’t be.”

With that, she pulls him towards her bathroom, and Cassian doesn’t resist any longer.

It doesn’t last though.

She manages to stop them from meeting a few times when Cassian comes over, always getting straight to business, then throwing him out the door the minute they’re done. She feels a little bad about it, honestly – but they agreed on no strings attached from the start so she doesn’t owe him anything. Besides, she makes sure to treat him really well while he’s still here so he has nothing to complain about. She’s a thorough lover.

Still, Mimi gives her the stink eye every time she lets her out of the kitchen, and Jyn realizes she can’t keep this up forever. Not if she wants to continue seeing Cassian – and well, why wouldn’t she? It’s been a few months since they started sleeping together but the sex hasn’t gotten boring yet. She’s prepared to hold out until it does, or until one of them finds an actual relationship. (Which is more likely to be him than her but alas. That’s fine too.)

Yet, the ever-rising threat of catching feelings for Cassian almost makes her reconsider. Maybe it’s better to cut her losses now. She can’t – wouldn’t – get rid of Mimi. If one of them has to go, it would have to be Cassian.

That’s what Jyn is thinking about when Cassian comes over that night and Mimi runs to the door to greet him. She had hidden under the couch the whole afternoon, refusing to move no matter how much Jyn tried. No treats, no food, no toy got her to come out. She waited until the knock on the door came and sprinted straight to Cassian’s legs.

His face lights up in a smile like he’s actually missed the stupid cat too. Jyn can only watch in horror as he crouches down to greet her like an old friend.

“Hey there, buddy. How are you today?”

It’s not like she’s gonna answer you, stupid, Jyn thinks, but she’s aware that she’s being a bit nasty. It usually tends to happen when feelings are involved.

“There you go,” he murmurs, rubbing Mimi’s chin. “Good girl.”

Jyn’s face flushes at that, remembering other times she’s heard him say those words.

“Don’t call her that,” she chokes out, voice a little strained. Cassian looks up at her, his gaze darkening with lust as their eyes meet, but he doesn’t answer. He stands abruptly, walking over to her without a word, and kisses her.

It’s a hard kiss, not something to ease them into it, just getting straight to business. Jyn doesn’t mind but her head reels from the sharp turn as he breaks away to bite her earlobe, his hands groping for her breasts. Her breath and legs are getting a little shaky. With a quick maneuver, he lifts her up, her legs locking around his waist as he carries her into the bedroom.

He goes down on her without even taking off all of her clothes, and right then, Mimi is the farthest thing from her mind.

For the first time since they started having sex, they fall asleep together.

Usually, Cassian takes a shower, gets dressed, goes on about his business. Jyn doesn’t mind, it’s the arrangement they have.

But something about tonight has been… intense and exhausting – in a good way. She could barely feel her limbs by the time they finished, and when Cassian collapsed next to her, breathing heavily, she didn’t say anything. Let him catch his breath, she figured. But the warmth radiating from him was so reassuring and comfortable that her eyes quickly fluttered closed, and she must have fallen asleep after that. When she wakes, it’s after midnight, and though she distinctly remembers resting her head against Cassian’s shoulder, he’s now gone.

Bitter disappointment unfurling in her stomach, she sits up slowly. It’s for the best. She doesn’t need any more confusing feelings. But god, her sheets still smell like him, and she admits to herself that maybe she has a little crush and it isn’t just because of her cat.

It’s a thought she regrets as soon as she walks out of her bedroom. Because there, in all his glory, stands Cassian – petting her cat.

And seeing him half-naked, hair a mess, smile soft and mellow, stroking a purring Mimi is an image that she knows she won’t be able to get rid of. She can’t take back her confession now. The longing she feels as she stares at them is undeniable.

“What are you doing?” she whispers to make her presence known, her voice still sleepy.

Cassian looks at her but his hands never leave Mimi’s head.

“I’m petting your cat.”

“I can tell. You’re supposed to be petting me,” she says, but it’s quiet and lacking the exasperation she usually feels in these moments.

“I already have,” he points out, matching her tone. The smile on his face is gentle rather than smug, in contrast with his words.

“Cassian,” she begins, taking a deep breath before biting the bullet. “You can’t do this.”

“What?” he asks, and he seems genuinely confused.

Jyn gestures around with her hands. “Be nice to my cat.”

His eyebrows rise high, looking more confused than before.

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s just – it’s not helping me a lot.”

“With what?”

“With my crush on you,” Jyn groans, giving up on fighting it. What the hell, she might as well see what he thinks. Maybe he feels the same.

And if not – well, she’s only losing the best sex of her life. She can deal with that, probably.

Stunned silence follows. Then he lets out a chuckle, his eyes sparkling in amusement.

“I’m sorry, am I so irresistible petting your cat that you’re literally asking me to stop being nice to her?”

Jyn grumbles. When he put it like that…

“I’m not asking you to kick her in the head. Just stop petting her, maybe?”

“Okay.” He nods a few times, stepping away from Mimi who meows once in outrage. Without taking his eyes off her, Cassian moves closer. “Then I have a better proposal for you. How about you let me take you out on a date and I keep being nice to your cat?”

“I…” Jyn pauses. Oh. She was hoping for this but she didn’t let herself believe in it. A slow smile unfurls on her lips. “I think Mimi would like that.”

Cassian, now close enough to touch, winds his arms around her neck, her hands going around his waist.

“And you? Would you like that?”

“Yeah.” She smiles up at him shyly. “I think I would like it too.”

And when she looks at Mimi, Jyn swears she looks a little smug

[thewebcomicsreview]

Homestuck 2! Chapter 13! The funeral! 

One thing I’ve noticed about these Homestuck Chapters is that they are exclusively Meat or Candy, and we never cut from one to the other in a chapter. Presumably this is setting up a “rule” that will be “broken” in a really dramatic moment (a la “Pearl doesn’t Shapeshift” in Steven Universe). Or it’ll be an anticlimax joke. Or, given the occasionally sloppiness of the writing team, it’ll happen randomly this chapter right around the point the trend is starting to become noticeable. Anyway. Jane is speaking, and it’s a funeral, so presumably this is Candyland and this is a chapter with Yiffy in it.

Are those the Derse and Prospit colors in that church?

Why are there so many trolls in the audience if Jane’s a human supremacist and humans and trolls are at war? I know HS2 sanded off the grimdarkness of the epilogues, but is there even a war anymore? Or is it just a family squabble between the gods? Jane conspicuously avoids mentioning the Trolls, but references the “Human Nation State”, formerly known as the Human Kingdom. If the Humans are now an independent nation then what exactly is Jane the president of? If there’s a one world government, then what the hell is Jane talking about? Why does anyone give a shit what she thinks of troll breeding if the four nations live in harmony are independently run? What is the political situation of Earth C, exactly? Is there an open war? Is Karkat leading like a terrorist cell? Who’s in charge of the Troll Kingdom?

Maybe it doesn’t super matter because the story is less about politics and more about “Bluh bluh, Jane’s a huge bitch”, but I’m kind of curious as to what the facts on the ground are.

Speaking of things I don’t understand that will hopefully be explained soon. What’s Yiffy even doing here? I guess to be revealed to the world and executed?

JANE: And my first memory of our Purple Prince 

Classpect speculation time! Everyone’s favorite! “Prince” is a class, and it’s even capitalized here so we don’t miss it, but Gamzee wasn’t a Prince, he was a Bard. The joke may be as simple as “Jane doesn’t really care about Gamzee”, but it could also be foreshadowing, as Prince and Bard are opposite classes and inversions and all the BladeKind Eyewear stuff.

It takes Jake a few seconds of puzzled eye contact before he catches exactly what it is Yiffany is tossing down. In his defense, he is distracted by his wife’s speech, which is doing the emotional equivalent of wringing him out like a wet towel, before using that towel to slap the sweaty buttocks of a large, odorous man. Even if he knows everything she’s saying is a load of horsefeathers, it does nothing for his composure to hear her heap praise on that smelly, homewrecking clown.

This narration is trying way too hard to be quirky.

He narrows his eyes in Yiffany’s direction. She’s a lovely girl, really

Oh good, a weird throwaway implication that middle-aged Jake English is sexually attracted to his own teenage granddaughter who he’s literally holding by a leash at the time. That’s just phenomenal. Thanks, Homestuck. 

I do love that, as soon as Jake accidentally-on-purpose lets her go, Yiffy chooses not to escape but to just fucking charge at Jane. As a character who doesn’t talk (but could talk at any time, another “rule” being built up to be broken at a dramatic moment), Yiffy has to be characterized by her actions, which thus makes her way more, well, active than anyone else in Homestuck 2 or really even in Homestuck 1. Even Vriska would filibuster a bit here before attacking, and Spades Slick would have some dramatic narration, but Yiffy gets none of that, just wild abandon, attacking a woman who is blah blah blah-ing endlessly. 

Obviously this isn’t an all-purpose “correct” choice for every story, but I think having Yiffy be silent and the narration not clueing us into her thoughts works really well for her. It gives her a bit of mystery (void?), lets us project into her a little which inherently makes her more sympathetic, and makes her very fresh and different in a comic that’s mostly known for giant walls of introspective dialogue. She’s a bit of a counterweight to the comic’s excesses, in that way.

JANE: I was born on proto-Earth, that half-finished dystopia mangled by the ravages of foolish leadership and endless war.

I legitimately don’t know if the point of this line is “Jane, who had a rich and privileged upbringing, is pretending she didn’t in order to score political points” or “Fuck Obama”. 

JANE: It would be simple to let this disgusting, vile, SHAMEFUL act of spiteful revenge turn us away from the blinding light of the sword of justice that hangs over us all--

For fuck’s sake.

Writers.

If you’re going to have a villain ironically monologue about how “justice” is coming for everyone, unaware that a hero is about to attack her, and the villain says that justice “hangs over us all”, then why is the hero attacking from beneath her? Why not have Yiffy, like, lass scamper up to the rafters and then be dropping down on Jane as she says this line? Wouldn’t that work stronger? A low angle shot of Jane saying justice hangs above us all, blissfully unaware of Yiffy in the background dropping down on her? Come on. It’s right there. 

Oh, okay, never mind. Yiffy is not attacking Jane, she’s childishly and ineffectively stomping on Gamzee’s coffin. That’s....much less cool than what I thought was happening, but it’s still okay for something to be not cool. I guess Yiffy, child of the two smartest characters in Homestuck, is a bit of a dipshit. 

I do like that Jane is just continuing with her speech as if nothing is happening.

Wait, they have Gamzee’s body? Isn’t Jane’s super-power raising the dead? I get why Jane isn’t doing that, but you’d think someone in-universe would’ve asked, unless she’s planning to do it right now. 

Does the president of the world and/or the Human Nation State not have bodyguards? 

Ah, there we go. Now the Sword of Justice is hanging above Jane, who’s realizing that the shock collar isn’t working as well as expected and that she might be in trouble here. I just had to be more patient, we got there eventually. 

JANE: After everything I’ve done for you--paying for your education, helping your parents cover up your existence from the world!

(Honestly, the sudden reveal of a hitherto unknown CHILD OF THE GODS should probably be a big deal to the people of Earth C, but none of them matter)

There he flies--in his gangly, purple, necrotizing glory. A phantom honk seems to hang above the congregation, as if from an echo of a time long past. A simpler time. A time before we had to deal with this disgusting clown’s bloated corpse every other update. He vanishes into the seething crowd, and we are confident that we will never have to deal with this asshole ever again.

The more the narrator opines on what’s going on, the more I question who the fuck it is. I thought it was Alpha Calliope, who was drawing weird stories with “lots of nudity”, but Calliope was all gung-ho on Gamzee’s redemption arc.

But also I kind of hate the Candy narration? I get that we’re supposed to be going “Wait who is this” and the constant editorializing is meant to call attention to this question, but let’s take it down 20% fellas? 

The stained glass window shatters inward, obliterated to stardust. The war is knocking.

Ah, so there is a war. And Jane stood in front of a giant-ass window on live TV in a church with no security in it? These are the dumbest fucking people, I swear to god. 

[paulckrueger]

Dispute Your Overdraft Fee with This Exact Script (plus how to avoid fees in the future)

Banks like Bank of America, TD Bank, Citizens Bank, and Wells Fargo are notorious for overdraft fees, and it’s B.S. 

Luckily, you can get your overdraft fees waived (using a simple negotiation script that we’ll provide for you) and beat the banks at their own game.

First, let’s take a super quick look at how overdraft fees really work and break down the exact charges you can expect:

What is an overdraft fee?

An overdraft fee is a charge from your bank that occurs when you take more money out of your checking account than what is currently in there. 

Rather than simply decline a transaction for insufficient funds at the point of sale, a customer enrolled in their bank’s overdraft protection service will see the transaction approved. 

Wow, really? 

This can be a lifesaver in emergency situations when money is needed and there aren’t sufficient funds available in an account.

Most people just pay the overdraft fees without thinking twice about it. They reason that if the bank or credit union was nice enough to let the transaction sail through when it really shouldn’t have, then I’ll pay it, it is what it is. 

But overdraft fees are a big problem for several reasons. 

Though the fee will vary from bank to bank, here are overdraft fees from a few of the most popular banks as of 2021:

BANK     OVERDRAFT FEE

Chase. $34

Bank of America.   $35

Wells Fargo.  $35

US Bank.   $36

PNC Bank.   $36

Citibank.   $34

These fees might not seem that high for rare, accidental instances occurring just a few times per year. 

However, these fees can stack up — and fast (and the banks know it).

One surprising fact is that overdraft fees are incurred per transaction AND can be incurred multiple times in the same day, 

So, say you are out and about shopping and using the same debit card. All of the transactions are approved — but you are blissfully unaware that there were insufficient funds in your checking account. 

This means that you would be charged separate overdraft fees for all of the approved transactions. This could be hundreds of dollars in fees all on the same day. 

Luckily, you can negotiate to get overdraft fees waived if you have the right scripts. That’s why we want to show you exactly how you can get your overdraft fees waived with a simple phone call to your bank.

If you’re worried about your personal finances, you can improve them without even leaving your couch. Check out my Ultimate Guide to Personal Finance for tips you can implement TODAY.

How to get overdraft fees waived

Here’s a truth not a lot of people know: All bank fees are negotiable and can even be refunded.

Remember: Your bank wants to keep you as a customer. A well-executed phone call can often make a difference.

Call your bank and use this script

Here’s how I was able to waive an overdraft fee I got years ago: He called up his bank and the conversation went like this:

RAMIT: Hi, I just saw this bank charge for overdrafting and I’d like to have it waived.

BANK: I see that fee. Unfortunately, we’re not able to waive that fee. It was [some BS excuse about how it’s not waivable].

RAMIT: Well, I’ve been a good customer with the bank for X years now and would still like to get it waived since this is a rare occurrence. What else can you do to help me?

BANK: Hmm, one second sir. I see that you’re a really good customer. I’m going to check with my supervisor. Can you hold for a second?

[hold]

I was able to check with my supervisor and waive the fee. Is there anything else I can help you with today?

And just like that, he got my overdraft fee waived. This script works so well for a number of reasons:

I repeated my complaint and asked the bank rep how they could constructively help me.

I’ve been a loyal customer to the bank for many years, which you should always use to your advantage when calling to negotiate.

I was polite but firm. Nothing can force a negotiation to go sour faster than a bad attitude.

You can use this exact script in order to get yours waived too.

And it doesn’t just work for overdraft fees — you can use this for other bank fees too, like processing fees, monthly fees, late fees, and even ATM fees.

What do you do if the bank says no?

There is always the chance they still say no to your request — and that’s okay. When that happens, there are three options you can take:

Be persistent

Banks pay hundreds of dollars in customer-acquisition costs and don’t want to lose you. If you’re persistent enough and make it hard for them to say no, you’ll have the upper hand if they try to shoot you down.

Hang up and call again

Sometimes getting your fee waived is a matter of getting the right bank rep on the line. If the first bank rep keeps shutting you out, politely thank them for their time, hang up, and dial the number again.

Pay the fee

You’re not going to win all negotiations. Sometimes you’re going to have to just pay the fee. BUT if you have the right scripts and prepare, you can be infinitely more ready than you were before.

When it comes to overdraft fees though, the best system is the one where you don’t have to worry about them at all. That’s why we suggest learning how to avoid getting hit with overdraft fees entirely so you don’t have to concern yourself with negotiating them away after the fact. 

How to avoid future overdraft fees

Prevention is better than a cure. So rather than deal with the consequences of overdraft fees, avoid them entirely with these four methods.

1) Opt-out of overdraft protection

When you sign up for a checking account, many banks try to convince you to sign up for automatic overdraft protection. It’s the policy in which the bank will cover you when you overcharge on your debit card, but charge you the overdraft fee for the trouble.

However, if you choose to opt out of overdraft protection, your card will simply get declined every time you attempt to charge more money than you currently have in the account.

Sure, it might be embarrassing if you’re on a date and it turns out you can’t pay for dinner because your card got declined — but it can go a long way in saving you money on overdraft fees.

TIP: Thanks to banking regulations put in place in 2010, it is illegal for banks to automatically enroll customers in automatic overdraft protection. Banks must give customers a choice to accept or decline enrollment.

2) Utilize account transfers

Some banks offer an overdraft protection service that works by transferring money from another account to the one you’re trying to take money from.

This can be from another checking account, a savings account, or even a credit card (depending on what your bank offers).

For example, say you’re using your debit card to buy dinner. Your debit card is linked to your checking account, which doesn’t have enough money in it. If you have an account transfer set up, it’s okay! If you’ve depleted the money in your checking account, money will just be transferred from your savings to cover the costs.

NOTE: Some banks charge a small fee with this practice as well — though it’ll be much lower than an overdraft fee.

3) Try the envelope system

This is a great system to help you keep track of your expenses for anything.

And it’s simple: At the beginning of each month, you allocate cash for things like going out, groceries, gas, and whatever else into envelopes. Once you’ve spent the money in those envelopes, you’re done spending for the month.

Of course, if there’s an emergency you can definitely dip into other envelopes — but that only means you have less money to spend in those areas.

You can set up your envelope system in three steps:

Decide how much you want to spend in each major category each month.

Put money into each envelope (e.g., $200 for groceries, $150 for eating out, $60 for entertainment).

Spend the money — but when the envelopes are empty, that’s it for the month.

You don’t even need to use physical envelopes. You can track your spending with a separate bank account and debit card while opting out of overdraft protection.

When the month starts, transfer around $200 into the account — and when you go out, only spend that money. Once the money is gone, stop spending.

Whatever system you decide to use, you just need to make sure to decide how much you’re willing to spend in each category (and that’s all up to you).

4) Get a new checking account

One great way to avoid overdraft fees entirely is to get a checking account with a bank that doesn’t have them.

My favorite: Charles Schwab Investor Checking

A few highlights:

No fees

No minimums

No-fee overdraft protection

Free checks

Deposit checks via pre-paid envelopes or via iPhone app (snap photos of your check — no need to go into the branch)

An ATM card

Unlimited reimbursement of any ATM usage

That’s right. There’s no-fee overdraft protection AND unlimited ATM reimbursement.

How often do you go out with friends and have to withdraw money from out-of-network ATMs? How often do you find yourself at a cash-only taco place at 3:30 am, needing to withdraw $20, but you hesitate because of onerous ATM fees?

Those fees can add up, and Schwab reimburses you for all of them. If you rack up $200 worth of ATM fees in a month, you’ll see a $200 deposit from Schwab before the month ends. This means you can use ANY ATM — corner stores, other banks, whatever — without having to look for some specific bank’s ATM.

Some people will balk at using Schwab because it’s an online bank. That’s fine, but we urge you to reconsider: It’s rare to find a checking account that (1) avoids screwing you at every turn, and (2) actually rewards you for using them.

5) Use a payment app

One way to ensure that your checking account does not get overdrawn and that the account does not incur overdraft fees is to use a 3rd party payments app, such as PayPal, Venmo, Zelle, or CashApp, and to connect the app to your checking account. 

So, if you pay for something with the payment app, and there isn’t enough money in the bank account that the app is connected to, then the transaction simply doesn’t go through — no overdraft fees, no problem.

These payment apps are convenient for P2P — paying your bestie back for paying for your Uber home last night — but generally cannot be set up to pay for bills or for in-store shopping. Because of this, they are limited, but they can be a great way to avoid surprise overdraft fees. 

Master your personal finances

Once you learn how to avoid getting nickeled-and-dimed by your bank, you’ll be well on your way to living a Rich Life.

And you don’t need any fancy get rich quick schemes or snake oil. All you need is determination and the right systems put in place to help you get the most out of your financial situation and not have to worry about living “frugally” (aka sacrificing the things you love).

In our Ultimate Guide to Personal Finance, you’ll learn how to:

Master your 401k: Take advantage of the free money offered to you by your company … and get rich while doing it.

Manage Roth IRAs: Start saving for retirement in a worthwhile long-term investment account.

Automate your expenses: Take advantage of the wonderful magic of automation and make investing pain-free.

Enter your info below and get on your way to living a Rich Life today — and avoid overdraft fees forever.

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Dispute Your Overdraft Fee with This Exact Script (plus how to avoid fees in the future) is a post from: I Will Teach You To Be Rich.

from Surety Bond Brokers? Business https://www.iwillteachyoutoberich.com/blog/get-bank-and-overdraft-fees-waived/

[swiftlymoniquesblog]

Lightweight- Dean x Reader

A/N: I got super carried away with this one, but as I working on my writing challenge last night, I heard this song, and thought Dean was perfect for it. Please listen to the song as you read this. I had this playing on repeat as I wrote it so I feel you need to listen as you read to get the full affect. (Click the word ‘lightweight’ for the song)

Lyrics are in italics.  Masterlist

*I DO NOT OWN ANY RIGHTS TO THIS SONG!*

Song: Lightweight by Demi Lovato 

Warnings: Dean being cute (that’s a whole warning itself) soft!Dean,  tons of fluff, mentions of sexual abuse (if you read carefully) anxiety, lack of sleep, missing someone, loneliness

Word Count: 3,472

The slightest words you said, have all gone to my head, I hear angels sing in your voice.

“Hey sweetheart, I was wondering if you, uh, maybe wanted to go somewhere with me?” Dean had asked you out of the blue.

It took you by surprise because you could never tell what was going on inside his head. He was a closed book, shut off to the world outside of Sam and, on a rare occasion, you. The two of you had been spending a lot of your free time together, a routine that had become normal for you. From the first moment he woke up, you were on his mind. He’d get out of bed, clean the sleep out of his eyes, quickly dress and freshen up, before heading out to the War Room of the Bunker. He would smile to himself when he saw how you were already nose in a book, aiding Sam on research for any upcoming cases. He left you two “nerds” to your findings until he decided you needed a break. He’d come to bother you, like a child wanting you to play with them, and he wouldn’t stop until you agreed to follow him. He would have you help him make breakfast, as music played through the kitchen, and you would dance around as he cooked. He would sing to you, blissfully unaware of the admiration his voice had brought out in you. After breakfast, he would ask you to join him in the Dean cave, for movies and reenactments of his favorite Western movies. Clint Eastwood, always on repeat, his hero, but to you, it was Dean who was the hero. The hours would pass and soon enough, it was time to end the day. This was the routine the two of you followed regularly until he decided to change things up.

“Of course, Dean, I’d go with you anywhere,” you answered him and his heart would swell right there.

He led you to the Impala, where you ventured out to your new “hangout” spot for the day. Dean had chosen a place very significant to him. This place, an area not easy to find by just anyone, was a short walk, through trees and behind rocks. In the opening, where you two would spend the day, a small but magnificent waterfall laid, adding a soothing sound of rushing water, to the already tranquil environment.

“Sometimes, when I need to get away from it all, I come here, to think, mostly.” The fact he brought you here, meant he must’ve trusted you, for no one even knew where this place was normally.

When you pull me close, feelings I've never known, they mean everything and leave me no choice.

Dean brought you out to this top-secret location because he had set up a picnic for you both. A blanket was laid out before you, plates, utensils, wine glasses, and a pizza box, sat on top. He gestured for you to sit next to him, as he grabbed a plate and placed two pizza slices down, handing the plate over to you. You thank him, taking a bite out of one of the slices, sighing happily at the sensation on your tastebuds. Smiling at you, Dean followed suit, gulping down his wine in the process. It was weird to you, you thought he didn’t drink wine, but he had drunk it anyway, a pleased smile never leaving his pink lips. When the food was near gone, he did something you wouldn’t expect him to do. Sitting with his legs bent at the knees, he grabbed your waist, pulling you right into him, between his legs. You smiled, not ever thinking he could be romantic, but here you were, sitting with him, watching the waterfall to the rocks below, fish and ducks swimming about. A feeling you never thought he would bring out in you; closeness. Dean Winchester wasn’t known to let anyone close to him, but he was being so different with you, it all made your head spin.

Light on my heart, light on my feet, light in your eyes, I can't even speak, do you even know how you make me weak?

An idea suddenly came into Dean’s head as he jumps up, you fall to the side at the loss of support.

“What are you doing?” You ask, looking to the known-killer, before you.

“Dance with me,” he said, bowing like a gentleman, and earning a laugh from you. You weren’t laughing at him, but you were laughing at how different he was being when it came to you. He knew you were more sensitive, so he had to protect you. It was only because he cared so much about your well-being, that he found himself behaving, unlike his usual self. He reached his hands out to you and pulled you to your feet, as he chose a song for you to dance to. And it wasn’t your average slow dance. No, this was a dance that you would see professionals do. He always held you close, leading you around the water’s edge. Something about dancing with him, brought light in his eyes, that you hadn’t seen from him before. You felt as though you were flying when he picked you up and spun with you. When he let you go and your dance came to an end, you had to sit; he had made you weak.

I'm a lightweight, better be careful what you say, with every word I'm blown away, you're in control of my heart.

“I had a great time today.” He said as you walked back to the car, hand-in-hand. You took note of the roughness of his palm and fingers, but that gave you a sense of protection.

When you sat in the passenger’s seat beside him, hand never leaving yours, you took that chance to look closer at his hand. You turned it over, palm up to you, and you traced the lines found there. Then your tracing went up the length of each finger, running over the callouses that had formed at the tips and on the middle part. He must’ve used those hands for some horrible things, things you couldn’t fathom, but when they were on you or holding yours, all of that faded away. There was an underlying softness that made its way to the surface when he was with you. Arriving back at the Bunker, he led you to the door of your room. It was cheesy, but he wanted to make this a real date like any other. He loved being around you and wanted to show you a good time tonight, something he didn’t do for himself too often. Unless the plethora of beer and random “chicks” could count as a good time, for anyone other than himself.

“I can’t tell you how long I wanted to do something like that with you, but I was too chicken-shit to do so,” he rubbed the back of his neck, classic Dean, you thought. “But I’m glad I took a chance and decided that you need to be treated like the queen you are,” he said, earning a blush on his cheeks.

I'm a lightweight, easy to fall, easy to break, with every move my whole world shakes, keep me from falling apart.

And after a few of these overly-romantic dates he would come up with, you felt yourself falling for him, and falling fast. In your past, similar to him, you had your heart broken so many times. You too didn’t let people in right away, but everything changed with Dean. He took the time to listen to you, to earn your trust, and wouldn’t push you into anything you weren’t comfortable with yet. But when you finally felt completely safe with him and he wanted to kiss you, you let it happen, and it was exactly what you imagined it would be like. It was soft and slow, all the longing and the built-up feelings you had accumulated for one another, was released in this one kiss. It wasn’t needy and it certainly didn’t make you think it would end with you in his bed, something you were afraid of. Because of the way you had been treated with men in the past when it came to sex, they were either too aggressive, too hard, and never listened when you told them to stop. All of these fears had clouded your head, but Dean reminded you that you were the one in control of this relationship. It was up to you when you would do anything remotely close to sex, and that mattered more to you than he probably would’ve guessed. He had become an anchor for you, and you to him, keeping one another from falling apart. With each other, anything this life would throw at you was now bearable.

Make a promise, please, you'll always be in reach, just in case I need, you there when I call.

Hunts were a different ball game now that you had crossed that line with Dean. No more, were you just the concerned friend, who usually stayed behind to call in aid when needed or to provide additional research. Now, you were the girlfriend to the eldest of the two brothers; a reason for him to come home safe. Goodbyes with him were longer and more intimate now. Laying beside him on his bed, nuzzled into his side, head on his chest and listening to the erratic rhythm of his heart, he ran his fingers along the length of your spine, cherishing this moment, before he absolutely had to leave you. Leaving you, was never easy in the beginning, but now, it was a battle for him mentally. He argued with himself to stay or go, but he ultimately knew he had a duty to himself, his father, his mother, and his younger brother, to get out there and protect what his family had built all those years ago. Without getting up, he twisted himself over to his side, so he could see your face, and he’d plant soft kisses along the crevasses of your eyes, trailing up to the top of your nose, up to your forehead, back down your nose and cheeks, until he landed back on your lips. It was moments like this, that he would hold close to him, until he got to come home, and could do this over again.

When it had grown late in the evening, and you had known they were going to be gone at least until the next day, worry had taken over your thought. Panic and the worse-case scenarios, playing out in your mind when you tried to sleep. Dean had left a sweatshirt behind, that smelled like him, for you to sleep with, but it refused to work for you. You fought over the reasons why you shouldn’t pick up the phone and call, not wanting to disturb his sleep or keep him from any research he may have been doing, but you knew, he wouldn’t mind. So, you sat up, wrapped in his hoodie, and selected his name in your contacts. Only one ring went through and soon, he was on the other end.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, knowing full well why you were calling him at three in the morning.

“I haven’t been able to sleep and I just miss you,” you admit, feeling silly for being so attached to him.

“Do you have my sweater?” He asked and you nodded, although he couldn’t see it.

“I do but it’s not working. I just want you home,” you had begun to cry but quickly tried not to worry Dean.

“Baby, I can’t come home right now, it wouldn’t be safe, but I promise you, I am right here and I’ll keep my phone on and next to me, until you fall asleep again, okay?” He suggested and you agreed that might help.

“Now, I want you to listen to me. I want you to lay back down, grab my pillow from my room, and hold onto that,” and you did as he asked.

“Good, now I want you to lay the phone down close to you, and I want you to turn your video-chat option on. I need to see my girl,” he says, and you hit the camera button. Instantly, his face appeared on your phone, a smile awaiting you.

“There she is,” he said, looking to you. You noticed he was in bed too, the light from his phone illuminating his face in his darkened surroundings.

“I love you so much, baby. I promise I’ll be home soon. Hang in there for me, okay? I can’t wait to be right there next to you and attack you with kisses,” he added the last part, as a means to put you at ease, and it had.

“I love you, too,” you said, and laid the phone beside you. Soon enough, after staring at him on the opposite side of your phone, you had fallen asleep, listening to him breathe.

This is all so new, seems too good to be true, could this really be, a safe place to fall?

Your relationship with Dean was none like you had ever experienced before, this you already knew, but as time went on, and the more you fell in love with him, it seemed too good to be true. Most things had been in your life so why was this any different? How could you comfortably fall when, at any given time, he could leave you, just like the others? When you brought this to his attention, he was alarmed that you had doubted his true intentions with you. He had a rather less than perfect love-life himself, but he took the chance to let himself fall in love again, no matter how slow he had to take things, or how much he wanted to be in control. He had been hurt before too, several dozen times, but nothing like you had been.

“Sweetheart, I love you, and you know me, I don’t say those words to just anyone. I’m sorry you feel this might be too good to be true, or that I could leave you at any minute, but I want to assure you, that is the last thing I want to do. You have become my world now, my number one reason for doing anything now. It’s not just about me and Sammy anymore; you’re in this equation now. And if I think any decision isn’t the best for you too, I won’t do it. I consider you for everything I do. I’ve never been this into someone before, so this is new for me too, but I hope we can work together, and make this something really special,” he had told you and you believed, he was being sincere, something that Dean was very serious about. So, you had kissed him, harder and with more passion, that any of your previous kisses, because this one was significant, more-so than you were expecting from someone who had previously laughed at “chick-flicks.” He insisted that you would be living out a chick-flick movie because he knew how much they meant to you.

Drowned in your love, it's almost all too much, handle with care, say you'll be there.

With being this intimate with someone, some of the ugly sides of people, are bound to come out. There was one monster, you weren’t sure how Dean would handle it. But you knew it was going to rear its ugly head at some point, as all monsters do, so you figured to just be honest with him.

“Dean?” You ask, searching the Bunker for your boyfriend. The longer it took to find him, the harder this was going to be for you to admit.

“Hey, babe,” he says, popping up from the couch.

“Holy shit, don’t do that!” You fake scold him.

“Sorry baby, I was napping and heard you call, so when I guessed you were close enough, I just thought ‘why not surprise her?’ He asked, innocent in his intentions.

“Because she will kill you,” you say, only half kidding.

“Alright, m’sorry, will you forgive me?” He asked, attempting Sam’s puppy dog eyes, and failing.

“Yeah, only Sam can make good puppy dog eyes,” you joke.

“Ugh, I know! I don’t know how he does it!” Dean says, frustrated as to how his younger brother seemed to be able to get out of things with just a look.

“Okay Dean, focus,” you say, snapping your boyfriend back to you.

“Oh right, did you want to talk?” He asks, sitting down on the couch he had just woken up from and patting the empty cushion next to him.

“Um, yeah, there’s something you need to know,” you say, occupying the space next to him.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” He begins to worry when he sees the unknown feeling in your eyes.

“Sort of, but not really. Look, I have to tell you something but I’m afraid of how you’re going to react, so please, just, handle with care, alright?” You ask, eyes searching his and he nods.

“Okay, well, I’ve recently been diagnosed with anxiety. Actually, it was before we ever started going out, but I wanted to tell you. I’ve been trying to hide it from you because I know it can be challenging and you might end up annoyed with me but I really don’t want that to happen and I feel like you should still know, because I really love you and…” you were suddenly interrupted, with a pair of lips sitting on yours. Surprised, you still kissed him, but you weren’t fully into it.

“What was that for?” You ask, looking into those emerald eyes of his.

“I’m glad you told me. I can’t imagine what that’s like for you, but you will never be annoying to me. You’re the best little thing that ever happened to me and I wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. And I say little, because you may feel taller than me, but you’ll always be smaller than me; my little girl, if you will,” you gasp, fake-hurt that your boyfriend would look at you as ‘small’ even though you were only a few inches shorter than he was.

“Look, we have to be completely honest with each other if we want this relationship to work. At least that’s what always seems to be the theme in those chick-flicks we watch all the time and don’t tell Sam I actually watch those now. I’ll never hear the end of it!” He was being super dramatic now.

“So, you aren’t mad?” You ask, bringing the subject back to your anxiety.

“Of course, I’m not mad. I’m disappointed you didn’t want to tell me at first, but I understand why you didn’t. I can be rather unpredictable and most of the time, too. Baby, I just want you to be happy and if that doesn’t always come easily to you, it’s okay. I want you to talk to me, to tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours. Even if it’s not pretty, that’s okay. I’ll be there for you, and no, I won’t sing that. Even when it feels like it’s all too much, you’re my girl; I’m in it for the good and the bad. It’s time for me to keep you from falling apart; forever, baby,” he says, going in for another kiss. Just as any other time, he managed to take your breath away, literally and figuratively. He was more than you ever expected from a hunter of the supernatural, but he was the kind of guy, who only showed this side of him, to you. And you treasured that. He wasn’t like this with anyone else and that was an honor for you. You laid with him, under the covers thrown across the bed, and you looked at him. His eyes were bright; they always seemed to be when they took in you. Small, lightly colored freckles, sprinkled across his cheeks and by his eyes, adding more personality to him. His eyes were starting to crinkle more prominent now, with his age only increasing, and you would tease him about seeing grey in his hair. Yes, Dean Winchester was starting to show the signs of all his battles on his beautiful face, but you loved that about him. He was perfectly imperfect and he was yours. And one day, when he isn’t here anymore, you will remember this look on his face, the look of love, love for you, and the things he said to you, and he would always be etched in your memories, for eternity.

  Tag List: @akshi8278 @deansmyapplepie @thinkinghardhardlythinking @fandom-princess-forevermore @tloveswriting @forever-trapped-in-my-dreams @thwiso​ @marvelfansworld​ @to-my-beloved-fandoms-2​ @grace15ella​ @angeredcrow​

[downwardfalling]

the world is moving

“Did it hurt?” Tony reaches over with his right hand, a piercing red silhouette in the night, and gently grazes the swollen skin.

“Oh,” Peter blinks twice. Then, “No.”

- Or, Peter and Tony’s relationship in five acts, as told through bruises.

Read on AO3 :))

;;

Act I

The length between the tip of Tony’s pointed dress shoes and the threshold of Peter’s hotel door is simply a single footstep. And yet, Tony stands on one end, struggling to cross the distance. Peter’s fourteen, his more rational side reasons, and has already been spiderman for a couple of months at least. He should know how to treat a black eye.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter looks surprised to see him when Tony finally works up enough nerve to knock on the door. His worst worries are confirmed. Half of Peter’s face is swollen, marred by a bruise that encroach on his otherwise youthful features.

“In the flesh.” Tony gives something of a wan smile as he brushes past him.

“Wha-what are you doing here? I mean, not- not that I don’t want you here, of course.”

Tony doesn’t know how to answer the question without seeming like he cares too much, so he doesn’t. “Are you enjoying the hotel?” 

“Oh, uh, yeah, it’s great.” Peter pauses for a moment. Then, more quietly, as if sharing some great secret, he adds, “There’s even a TV in the bathroom, Mr. Stark. The bathroom. ”

Steve must’ve hit his head one too many times because he hears awe in Peter’s voice, and worse, finds it reassuring. But even sleep deprived and beaten, Tony knows the real reason why, as much as he refuses to admit it. The fact is, he messed up bad, and Peter saw the repercussions: Tony’s life work– his friendships, his career, his family– fell apart, loud and rickety like an unoiled machine. A part of him feared that Peter would finally see him for who he is. Not a hero. A fuck up. That same part of him is glad that Peter doesn’t. It’s selfish, but he puts it in the back pocket to unpack later.

“Thank you so much for this, Mr. Stark. It’s really great. I haven’t even been on a plane before, and now I’m fighting with the Avengers in an airport. I mean obviously, I would rather be fighting with the Avengers and not against the avengers, but you can’t win them all.“

Tony swallows hard, fighting back affection that Peter seems to command without knowing. He’s just too young. Too good. “No problem, kid. Do me a favor, and sit on the bed over there.”

Peter sits on the edge, clasping his hands neatly on his lap in front of him. He smiles, genuinely (teeth, gums, and all), even though he has bruised flesh under his left eye that forces it halfway closed. His right eye shines with reverence and youth and excitement that, along with affectionate, makes Tony sick to the stomach with guilt.

“You need ice,” Tony croaks, quickly turning away to hide whatever emotions he was uncareful enough to let show.

Peter either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t point it out. “Hm? For what?”

“For your face.”

“Oh.” He gingerly presses his fingertips against the skin under his eye, as if he had just remembered the bruise that had been the source of Tony’s penitence since he first saw it forming in the car ride back to the hotel.  

Tony hands Peter the bag of ice. “Keep this on for a little while.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Peter presses the ice to his eye and leans back to rest against the headboard. “Oh, by the way, Mr. Stark, I just wanted to let you know that you were super badass today.”

“Oh?” Tony snorts, sitting on the edge of Peter’s bed after his curiosity wins out over his better judgement. “How so?”

Peter grins. “Well, you’re always kind of badass. But seeing you in person today was on another level. And more importantly, seeing you fight for what you believe is right and what you believe would be the best for other people.”

“Oh,” Tony frowns, unbelieving and unused to receiving so many genuine compliments at one time. “You think so?”

“More than think so. Know so.” Peter presses on passionately, as if he somehow sensed Tony’s doubt. “My uncle Ben used to love Harry Potter, and he would always say that it is the quality of one’s convictions that determines success, not the number of followers.”

Peter leans closer to Tony, clenching his fist against his chest to show how strongly he believes in what he’s saying. “You’re a really good person, Mr. Stark! That’s why you will always be badass, even if Mr. Captain America doesn’t think so anymore.”

Tony blinks, trying to stave off sweet relief and the beginnings of tears that came with it. “Wow, kid. Are you always this…?” He makes a roundabout gesture with his hands, as if it were sufficient enough for his lack of a better word.

“Honest?” Peter offers.

Tony scans Peter’s face, looking for some hint of sarcasm, or some form of mockery, because there’s just no way someone can have so much faith in him. Instead, he sees what he’s seen all along, youth, and reverence, and just pure good. Tony has to get out of here fast before Peter gets himself into something he doesn’t want to be in.

“I should get going now.”  He gets to his feet as Peter blinks at him in confusion. “Rest, and keep that ice on for at least another ten minutes.”

“Will do!” It’s the last thing Tony hears before he’s out the door.

The distance between Peter’s hotel room and the tip of Tony’s shoes had only been a single footstep. When Tony crossed it, he had unknowingly crossed a fine line. But as he walks to his hotel room, shaking his head, he vows to stay away. Because he destroys everything he touches. and the last thing he wants to do is destroy Peter.

;;

Act II

“Who knew shattering your leg would cause severe internal bleeding? Weird, right?”

“Pete, please stop talking, or I swear to Jesus himself, you will regret it.”

“Yessir,” Peter salutes, and for two seconds, looks like he actually considers listening to him. “But wow, I can’t feel my entire right side.”

“That’s it.” Tony says, stepping around Bruce to make threatening eye contact with him. “When you’re better, you still won’t feel your leg. Why? Because you won’t have a leg. And why is that? Because I will have ripped it right out of its socket.”

Peter’s eyes start to droop, the likely effect of the medication they had given him when he first arrived. Quietly, he mumbles, "That’s just cold.”

Bruce stops to remove his hands from the IV on Peter’s arms and places them on Tony’s shoulders, slowly guiding him backwards and out of the room.

“Hey, buddy, I think you should step out for a bit. Get a breather. Maybe even a cup of water.”

“What, why? I’m fine.”

“No, you’re hysterical.”

“No, I’m not"

“Yes. You are.”

Tony looks over Bruce’s shoulders and sees nurses frantically working around Peter’s bed. Peter, finally asleep from medication, looks peaceful and blissfully unaware, even when his right leg is mangled enough that pieces of his bone pierce through the skin, and the majority of his thigh is black from severe internal bleeding. Tony isn’t privileged enough to be spared from the sight. His stomach churns uncomfortably, and it makes him lightheaded. He looks down, and his hands slightly shake from adrenaline.

“Yeah, I could use a cup of water,” he finally relents.

“Good, I will let you know when we’re done.” Bruce pats him on one shoulder. He must see the reluctance on Tony’s face because he adds, “He will be fine, Tony,” and then shuts the door.

In the time he was locked out of the medbay (which he owns, Tony bitterly points out to himself), he had the time to get not one, but six cups of water. He could have gotten more, but had been too busy making an internal list. The first thing he had to do once Peter was out of surgery was strangle him. Then, he’d call his scary, yet attractive aunt, and suffer the consequences of Peter’s actions, while May coddles Peter through phone, and promises to visit straight away after work. Finally, he’d strangle Peter again, lovingly this time, and force him to promise to never pull a stunt like this ever again, only for Peter to break it, at most, three months later.

Bruce finally steps through the sliding glass doors as Tony tries to figure out the best way to break the news to May. “Alright,” he says, taking off his gloves. “He’s all fixed up.”

Tony gets off the chair he had been sitting on for the past three hours, and furrows his eyebrows. “As easy as that? No permanent bone damage?”

“As easy as that. His healing factor is really quite something else.”

“Don’t tell him that, or he might get more creative next time.”

Bruce rolls his eyes, but steps aside to let Tony through. “You can see him now. Be gentle, he just woke up.”

“Oh Brucie Bear,” Tony sighs, patting Bruce’s shoulder as he steps by. “What am I if not gentle?”

Peter had nearly fallen back asleep in the time he was left alone, and Tony, seeing him slowly nod off like the kittens in the cat videos Peter forces him to watch, feels all the previous agitation and anger leave him, as quickly as air deflating out of a balloon.

“Hey Pete,” Tony whispers. His fingers hover hesitatingly over his forehead, but eventually, he reaches to brush Peter’s fringe out of his eyes.. “How are you feeling?”

“Hm?” Peter squints at him, pushing up on his elbows. “Oh, hey, Mr. Stark. M’fine.”

“Wow, and the press calls me a dirty liar,” Tony says drly, leaning over to help Peter sit upright against the pillows. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

Peter winces. “Not particularly, but I’m guessing if I don’t, you’ll go through Karen, and I have some pretty embarrassing footage I don’t want you to see. Shit. Shouldn’t have said that.”

“No harm done,” Tony says, his voice laced with faux comfort. “I’ve already seen them. Your impression of Thor is really cream of the crop. Absolutely spot on. I’m sure Thor would agree. You know, once I show it to him.”

Peter gasps, pressing his hand to his chest. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, but I would if you don’t tell me who did this to you.”

Peter groans into his hands and sinks further into his pillows, deliberating his options for a few moments.

“Ugh, fine,” he eventually concedes, embarrassment too large a price. “But you have to promise me you won’t commit first degree murder.”

“No can do. Thou shalt not lie, and all that. Besides, I don’t think you should worry too much about what happens to him when he nearly tore you to shreds.”

Peter glances down at his tightly bandaged leg in a disappointed frown. The turn of his lips create harsh lines around his mouth and between his brows that make him look wrought with fatigue, and years beyond his age.

“Yeah,” Peter mutters, a bit breathless. “He really got me good.”

Tony places a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Pete,” he says gently, leaning down to make eye contact. “I know that you think you have to do this all alone, but you don’t. Whoever hurt you is dangerous, and deadly. You could’ve died, Peter. It does not make you weak to ask for help.”

Peter reaches up to grip the cuff of Tony’s button-up, tugging on it until Tony sits on the edge of his bed. He doesn’t make an attempt to move after that, simply clutches the fabric tightly between his fingers, wrinkling the material where it disappears underneath his fingertips.

“He calls himself the Green Goblin,” Peter whispers, many minutes later. “He’s large, and strong and…and scary.“

“Okay,” Tony says, nodding his head. “Thank you for telling me. We’ll figure it out together. Maybe I can even threaten Rhodey into helping. Not that I would need to. He’s putty in your hands.”

Peter laughs, releasing his grip to press the back of his hand against his mouth. “ Mr. Stark,” he says, giggling. The lines on his face disappear to reveal the youth and naivety that Tony will always associate with Peter.

“It’s your stupid cat videos,” he says, smiling, pleased with his laughter.

“Thank you,” Peter whispers. His hands fidget for a little, until finally settling to fiddle with the loose seams of the blanket. “And I’m sorry if I scared you.”

Tony grunts. “Why do you always thank me for doing nothing? And yes, but you’re always scaring me. I’m only just a little used to it by now.”

“Really?” Peter’s voice pitches. “Because it didn’t seem like it. At least from what I remember.”

“You probably don’t remember much. You were all delirious with the drugs.”

“But seriously. I really want to thank you for agreeing to work with me. Showing me the ropes, and all that. I haven’t… completely figured out how to handle all the superhero stuff yet, if you can’t already tell.” Peter gestures to his leg. “And there’s no one really better to show me how than you.”

Tony smiles, satisfaction settling in his body, warmly. Peter is always so startlingly sincere with his gratitude and admiration, and Tony has only gotten used to taking  the compliments and thankfulness in stride rather than succumb to doubt.

“Thanks buddy,” he pats Peter on the shoulder. “Let’s see if you think that once I force you to call your Aunt.”

;;

Interlude.

“Hey,” Peter leans against the door. He shifts his weight from foot to foot and it makes him look small, and vulnerable and unsure.

“Come here,” Tony whispers, lifting his bed sheets. Peter stops playing with the hem of his shirt, and slowly walks over. He slips into the bed, and leans his back against the headboard, brushing his shoulders against Tony’s own.

He doesn’t say anything, and Tony doesn’t ask him to. Together, they sit in silence. Tony takes the time to contemplate life, and death, and chance. Peter, he assumes, thinks the opposite: war, and renewal, and luck.

Finally, Peter asks, “Did it hurt?”

“The snap?”

“Yeah.”

“No,” Tony lies.

Peter shifts side to side. He doesn’t believe him, and for a moment, Tony waits for Peter to lean away and call him a liar. Instead, he presses his head against Tony’s left shoulder, and, in doing so, reveals the large, blue bruise that blemishes his temple.

“Did it hurt?”

“What did?”

Tony reaches over with his right hand, a piercing red silhouette in the night, and gently grazes the swollen skin.

“Oh,” Peter blinks twice. Then, “No.”

They settle back into silence. Tony presses his cheek against Peter’s hair. They look across Tony’s room, past the leather armchair, past Morgan’s bunny from where it was abandoned on the floor, past the wall. They look ahead.

Tonight, they pretend that everything is fine. Tomorrow, Peter will help Tony dress the burn wounds on his right side, and Tony will press an ice pack against Peter’s temple. Tomorrow, they’ll heal.

;;

Act III

“Morgan, honey, what do we say when we do something bad?”

Morgan tilts her head and squints her eyes, thinking hard. “Shit?”

“Morgan!” Pepper presses her hand to her chest, aghast. She turns to Tony, lifting her finger accusingly. “ You.”

“I have no idea where she learned that, Pep. Scout’s honor.” Tony replies, trying to school his face into indifference. A futile attempt when Morgan twists to face him on her mother’s lap and gives him a small smirk that is the consequence of weekend sleepovers with Natasha, forcing Tony to hide his grin behind his hand.

“You were a boy scout?” Peter, who is holding a bag of peas against his head on the couch next to him, looks up with just a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“No. He wasn’t.” Pepper gives Tony a glare over Morgan’s head, her eyes narrowed to a squint that meant she was only seconds away from sending Tony to the couch tonight, and shifts Morgan gently onto his lap. “You caused it, you deal with it.”

Tony leans over and presses a kiss to the top of Morgan’s head as Pepper walks down the hall, and out of hearing distance. Morgan giggles, and turns around to return it on the cheek. “What did I tell you before? Those are only Mommy’s words.”

Morgan nods seriously, looking as if she was hearing God himself dictate the eleventh commandment. “Mommy’s words,“ she repeats.

“That’s my treasure.”

“Treasure? She nearly took my life!” Peter scoffs, but with an undertone of care and affection that Tony hears more and more often when Peter talks to and about her.  She’s going to grow up to be very spoiled, as clear when he thinks back to this morning– she had coaxed Tony into giving her yet another banana for breakfast, and after she finished, left the peel by the doorway for Peter to trip on when he finally got out of bed at noon.

“Petey,” Morgan says, reaching out to group three of Peter’s fingers in her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Aw M, of course–”

“I should have known you weren’t smart enough to avoid it.”

Peter’s face goes slack, and Tony can read the shock on his face from the way his eyebrows disappear into his hairline and how his mouth falls slightly ajar. He slowly turns towards Tony, and narrows his eyes in the same manner Pepper had done just moments before.

Tony shrugs his shoulders. There was only one person capable of teaching impressionable, five year old Morgan such wyrness, and opposed to popular belief it wasn’t him. It was Peter.

“Morgan, that wasn’t very nice,” Peter warns threateningly. “Now you have no choice but to suffer my wrath!”

Peter reaches over to tickle Morgan’s stomach. Morgan shrieks, and falls off Tony’s lap and onto the couch in a fit of laughter.

“Noooo,” she cries. “I’m sorry, Petey! I’m sorry!”

“No can do, M.” But, Peter relents anyways, and leans down to give Morgan a peck on the cheek, even as he simultaneously presses peas against the bump on the back of his head. Tony changes his mind. She is already  spoiled.

“Alright,” Tony says, playing peacemaker. “Now that this is settled. Let’s hit the lake!”

Morgan gasps, sitting upright on the couch. “The lake!” She cheers, already running to grab her flip flops.

“How is it that she’s the most adorable and cutest yet most evil person I know?” Peter sighs dramatically, placing the peas on the coffee table, now warm. He gets up off the couch and offers Tony a hand.

“You’re too little too late, Pete,” Tony says, groaning softly as he lets Peter pull him to his feet. “I asked myself the same question when she shat on my hand five years ago.”

“Petey! Dad!” Morgan runs by, now with her hair in a ponytail and with flips flops in hand. “C’mon let’s go! I want to take the boat out!”

“Coming, pumpkin.” Tony straightens his back, joints cracking loudly. “Ugh, that can’t be good. I’m getting too old for this.”

Peter laughs, patting Tony’s shoulder as he brushes past him. “Let’s go, Old Man. Before you hit the hay.”

Later that night, after Morgan fell fast asleep from a long day boating around the lake, and Pepper had dozed off after arguing with investors from Hong Kong, Tony does end up on the couch, but in his own volition. He’s nursing a cup of hot chocolate when Peter ventures into the living room.

“Hey,” he says, sitting down next to him. “What are you doing here? I thought old men slept like logs after their evil daughter connived them into speeding ten circles around on a boat.”

Tony snorts. “I could ask the same about older brothers.”

Peter looks content, and the sight of it unravels some knot that had been building at the pit of Tony’s stomach. It hasn’t been too long after the large and dramatic stand-off against Thanos, and a part of him had worried about life after. Life with both Peter and Morgan, but no Iron Man.

“How are you feeling?” Peter asks, eyes shifting across his face, as if he were searching for signs of distress. “Is it the nightmares again?”

Tony chuckles, and reaches over to brush back Peter’s hair. It’s gotten long, and if possible, even more curlier. May has been going on about having it cut, but for now, Tony counts it as a small blessing.

“Nope,” he says. “Another day scotch free. I think we should celebrate. Three months, a new record.”

“Oh,” Peter says, leaning back into the couch, his posture much more relaxed. “Then what are you doing out here?”

“Just enjoying the silence of the night. God knows we don’t get enough of it around here.”

Tony throws his arm around Peter’s shoulders, and Peter sags against him, cuddling into Tony’s side. Inside his bedroom, Pepper is dreaming of investment meetings, and new punchlines to throw at misogynistic corporate leaders. Down the hall, Morgan sleeps soundly.

Everything is as it should be, even if the only piece missing is Iron Man’s signature red and gold hues, tracing shapes into the sky like Earth’s brightest star. Tony has everything he needs right here.

;;

Act IV

“Tony,” Peter groans, pressing an ice pack onto his cheek, where a bruise was black, and blue and blooming around a long gash that reached from his upper cheek to chin. “Please stop pacing, and sit with me.”

“No,” Tony quips, but sits on the chair next to the medbay bed anyways. “I’m too busy trying to figure out why you felt the need to keep this from me.”

“Because you get all crazy? Like right now?”

“It’s me, ” Tony replies, leaning forward in his chair and ignoring Peter’s remark, looking all types of the tormented soul he is and will always be. “You used to tell me everything. And now you’re off on secret missions with Shield–”

”–yes, because that’s what secret means–“

”–or taking down whole New York crime syndicates by yourself, making friends with that human embodiment of a tabloid Johnny Storm, or worse– sneaking off to go to a party . It’s like I don’t even know who you are anymore.“

A look of understanding comes across Peter’s face. Like he’s just realized this is about more than Fisk’s underground Mafia work, more than even the illegal multiverse experiment that had been one spilled beaker away from tearing the universe into two. It makes Tony miss the years right after the Snap, miss when Peter’s first instinct would be to call him, before he had left for college, became war torn and world weary, and for whatever reason, decided that Tony simply wasn’t needed anymore.

“Tony,” Peter says, more gently this time, reaching his hand out. Tony takes it, holding it tightly in his own as if should he let his grip slack for even just a moment, Peter would break into a million pieces of dust, unmendable and gone, but never forgotten– just like he did on Titan, just like he does over and over again in nightmares that continue to plague him even years later.

“I’m always going to need my old man.” Peter jokes, but his face says otherwise: lips pressed together in a small smile, eyes bright with the beginnings of tears and something else. Love, Tony will amend, months later, thinking back to this memory as Peter hands him the invitation to his wedding.

“Then why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you. Called for back-up, tracked him for you, Iron Man–”

“–is out of commission.” Peter’s eyes drift to Tony’s right arm, red and metallic, a synthetic replacement for the original which had been tragically incapacitated by the Snap.

“How am I supposed to help you if I don’t even know?“

Peter drops the ice bag to reach over and lay his hand on top of Tony’s, cupping it tightly between both of his own. “I don’t need Iron Man. I need Tony Stark. Tony who might not be there for the battle, but will always be there for me in the aftermath.”

Peter doesn’t say anymore, and he doesn’t have to. Tony has since learned the art of reading into the unsaid.

;;

Act V

Peter grips Tony’s hand too hard, and it creates fingerlike bruises on his skin.

“I can’t do this, Tony,” he says, using his other hand to wipe at his face. “I can’t. I just can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” Tony gives Peter’s hand a reassuring squeeze. Peter doesn’t bother to squeeze back, too busy looking down the hallway, eyes shifting left and right in search of the nurse.

“Do you think it’s done? Why hasn’t anyone come out yet? Do you think something went wrong? What if–” Peter’s face goes slack, and he slumps down on the chair, finally letting go of Tony’s hand to run them through his hair. “I think I’m having a breakdown.”

“Oh hey. You’re not that bad. If it makes you feel better, I vomited on the nurse twice before Pepper popped Morgan out.”

Peter gives Tony a long look and proceeds to groan. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“I don’t know. Do you feel better now?”

“Not particularly. But I am more distracted. The image of you vomiting is equally too familiar and hilarious.”

Tony smiles and lovingly pats Peter’s cheek, now less flushed from his previous outburst. “Then my job here’s complete.”

Peter returns the smile, and looks contemplatively at his hands. “Do you think MJ will be mad at me for not being with her?”

“Michelle? Probably not. She’s a strong, independent woman. And I’m pretty sure she’s the one who told you to leave after you started to freak out.”

“Ugh,” Peter grimaces, most likely reliving the memory. “I’m just not sure if I’m ready yet. To be a father.”

Tony reaches over to brush back Peter’s hair from his forehead. When Peter took over Stark Industries two years ago, he had gotten into the habit of gelling it back. It was one of Tony’s greatest losses. Today, he relishes in the fact that Peter left it undone, too in a hurry to get to the hospital in the middle of the night. His baby, who no longer looks it, is all grown.

“Do you know what’s the most important part of parenting?”

“No?” Peter slumps in his chair, saddened by his own ignorance.

“The answer’s more obvious than you think: love, and honesty and respect. Being emotionally open, loving your kid, and letting your kid know that, but also, somehow respecting their boundaries.”

Tony’s words do nothing to appease Peter. If anything, he’s more discouraged and sinks further into the uncomfortable waiting room chair.

“It’s a learning curve, but I’ll let you in on a little secret. Peter, you’re the most honest and affectionate person I know. Before I met you, I don’t even think I was capable of saying I like you, nevermind love. And look at me now, I spend all my time with you and Pepper and my baby Morgan who’s got me wrapped around her small yet powerful finger.”

Peter laughs, his eyes looking suspiciously watery. “Don’t worry. She’s got us all in her evil clutches.”

“My point is,” Tony continues, chuckling softly. “You’ve taught me all of these things about parenting, just by being yourself. I have so much faith in you, there are not enough words for me to even describe it.”

Peter looks as if he’s about to break into pitiful sobs, but the nurse steps out of Michelle’s room, smiling brightly as she calls Peter’s name, and saving him from what would’ve been inevitable seconds later.

“Oh god, I think I might vomit.”

“Oh no. Vomiting during labor only needs to happen once in history.” Tony jokes, feeling as if he might vomit himself. He pushes lightly on his shoulders. “In you go, Pete.”

The room is quiet when they walk in. Michelle is propped up against some pillows, simultaneously exuding tire and glowing with the newfound joy of motherhood. In her arms, swathed in light blue blankets, is the baby, sleeping comfortably.

“Oh my,” Peter chokes, approaching the side of the bed. “He’s just so tiny.”

“And yet he took so long to come out,” Michelle says, lids heavy as if she were on the brink of passing out. “Do you want to hold him, Peter?”

Peter hesitates for a few seconds, but reaches down shakily, and gently lifts the baby off Michelle’s arms. “Oh wow,” he says quietly, adjusting the baby’s blankets with one hand. “Hi there, baby. It’s me, your dad.”

Slowly, he turns towards Tony, tears making their way down the side of his face. “Look, Tony. It’s my baby. He’s beautiful.”

Tony looks down at the bundle, and indeed, burrowed between the creases of the fabric, is a baby boy with the beginnings of Peter’s hair, his nose, his ears, and if he looked closely enough, maybe his smile.

“Hey there, Beautiful,” Tony’s voice cracks. “You got a name yet?”

“Say hi to Grandpa, Ben. Benjamin Anthony Parker.”

;;

End.

The hospital room is dark, mostly lit by the dim yellow light that emanates from the small lamp next to the bed. Michelle is sleeping quietly, and beside her, still wrapped in baby blue blankets, is Ben. Across the bed, is a long, grey ottoman sofa. On one end, May is sleeping with her head tucked on Pepper’s shoulder. On Pepper’s other side is Morgan.

Tony watches everything from the other end of the couch, and tucked into his side, is Peter, exhausted but still clinging to the last dredges of consciousness.

“Are you still worried about fatherhood?”

Peter looks up at him with glassy and wistful eyes. “No. I have the best role model.”

At that, Tony smiles, content. He has all he needs, and then some, right here.

[lilyswritings]

The Third Time.

summary: Peter Parker does his best to try and save everyone, but sometimes, his best just isn’t enough.

author’s note: I am so sorry in advance... I read a super sad fic and got in the mood to write absolute angst, and this emerged. Shout out to @thomas-holl for fueling my angst inspiration, and, uh, enjoy, I guess. (Also, I recommend you listen to ‘Fourth of July’ by Sufjan Stevens while reading bc that was a huge inspo for it.)  Can maybe be considered as an alternate ending to Crush

wordcount: 1,044

warnings: tragic sadness. absolute angst. seriously, i made myself cry (on a train, might i add). don’t read if you don’t wanna be sad. 

Peter Parker x Reader

_____________________________

  Peter Parker saved your life two times, and both instances you remember vividly. The first time, you were blissfully unaware that the masked hero of New York was your childhood best friend recently turned boyfriend – you’d had your headphones in (stupid) as you’d stepped out onto the busy Manhattan street, not checking both ways (stupid) as you replied to a text on your phone. 

   A hijacked freightliner had come barreling down the street, swerving like a madman and headed directly for you. You’d frozen, your life flashing in front of your eyes as you tried to come to terms with the fact that you were about to die. Miraculous, a flash of blue and red had swept you off your feet (quite literally) and deposited you safe and sound on the opposite pavement. 

  The second instance was the same night Peter finally came clean to you about his ‘night job’, as he referred to it. You told him you needed time to process and left his apartment with an infinite multitude of questions flashing through your mind. Of course, the Universe has a cynical sense of humor, and at that exact moment, a bank robbery had taken place and you’d almost been caught in the line of fire as they shot manically at the police officers responding.

  Your boyfriend had swept down in front of you, webbing a door from a crashed police car to use as a shield and tucking you safely behind him, effectively ending your inner debate as to whether or not you support his crime fighting. 

  The third time Peter tries to save your life, he’s not fast enough. 

  It all happens in a blurry moment that in the future, Peter will return to and go over in his mind, again and again and again, searching for his error and what he could have done differently, if only he’d been paying better attention, if only he’d been able protect you, if only-

  The drones line up, once again, holograph lightning glinting menacingly off their sleek white flanks as panels open and guns lower themselves from the undercarriages of the machines. The stone pillar of the bridge you’ve been backed into feels cool and rough beneath your exposed arms as you press them into the stone desperately, as though you could somehow push your way through a few feet of solid concrete and escape the situation.

  This time, there is no flash of blue and red to sweep you off your feet and out of danger.

  This time, your eyes close, a bafflingly naive human reaction to absolute panic and fear in the face of life-threatening danger: shut the world out and the danger goes away, doesn’t it?

  It doesn’t.

  This time, the guns go off, and you’re still in front of them.

  By the time they’ve launched their mercenary assault, methodical and brutal and oh-so-ingeniously designed, Peter is on the other side of the bridge, fending off attackers of his own. Your cry of pain sounds out, and his heart drops through his chest. 

  He doesn’t even hear himself shout, just distantly recognizes a voice uncannily like his own let out a sound of anguish as he launches himself away from the drones he’s fighting, blind panic causing his spider-sense to light his nerves on fire. 

  He registers a bullet whizz past his bicep, tearing into the flesh, but the pain pales in comparison to what his heart is currently putting him through.

   He lands and tugs off his mask in one fluid motion, eyes already watering before he even fully takes in the sight of your lifeless form crumpled in a heap, your clothes dotted with oh-so-many spots of blossoming crimson red, your eyes staring lifelessly at the sky. 

  There is no goodbye.

  There is no deus ex machina moment where a Stark Industries jet appears out of nowhere with medical technology enough to resurrect you. 

  There is no “surprise!” moment where you sit up, revealing that it’d all been one big cruel and totally-not-funny prank, where Peter scolds you but eventually melts beneath your self-satisfied grin and a cheeky “you should have seen your face!”. 

  There is only startling quiet as a devastated teenage boy feels his heart being torn out of his chest by the cruel and bloody hands of Fate, as he ungracefully lurches and falls to his knees, face white and eyes unseeing through a haze of grief.

  He’d give anything for this to be a cruel joke. For him to be mad at you. For you to tease him. For you to do something other than just lie there, still and beautiful and dead.

  He knows there’s nothing he can do, and yet he finds himself dragging himself over to you, shaky hands reaching over and pulling your torso onto his lap, face crumpling as he takes in the blank expression on your face that he will never see smile or laugh again.

  And so, he remains for an indefinite period of time, almost catatonic, fists clutched desperately in your shirt as though by sheer will he can bring you back.

  He can’t.

  He needs to get up. He needs to make sure the evil is defeated, to tell Happy that the battle is won, and the danger is overcome. He needs to go back to his classmates and pretend everything is normal.

  He can’t. 

  He needs you to wake up.

  You can’t.

  “You can’t save everyone, Peter!” Your voice echoes in his head from a fight – you were frustrated with his hero complex, sick of seeing him come home hurt night after night. “There will be some people you can’t save, okay? But you can save yourself. You can take care of yourself.” 

  A bitter sob escapes him, the first sound since that first cry of anguish, and he doubles over your body as the fight leaves him in a rush and hot tears spill past his cheeks, mixing with the blood that continues to steadily bloom from your wounds.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” He repeats, fists still clutched in your clothes as he rocks backwards and forwards on his knees.

  His world collapses around him, and Peter Parker learns that he can’t save everyone, no matter how hard he tries.

[blehbleehhhh]

Isis and Osiris 💕🦂(ft. EreMika)

Another lovely reader suggested I do a piece involving mythology of some kind! I've always been really into Egyptian Mythology (Ancient Egypt anything though so so fascinating) Anyway, I was super quick to decide on these two. What I did was write my interpretation of The Osiris Myth with their names in it instead. A few facts that are necessary to know before you continue: the original gods of ancient Egypt were Osiris, Isis, Set, Horus, and Nephthys. The myth is basically Set tricks Osiris to his demise, Isis revives Osiris, etc. ancient.eu is a great website, I recommend if you're interested in learning more! Greek Mythology is amazing too, don't get me wrong, just, idk, enjoy the story. Keep requesting and thank you for the lovely comments💕

ps: I LOVE Jean, lol, so this was hard! But he and Eren always fucking fight so.

pps: dedicated to anyone who catches the Supernatural references ;)

Cast:

Eren - Osiris

Mikasa - Isis

Jean - Set

Hitch - Nephthys

"All seems to be going well." Mikasa smiles as she comes up behind her loving husband while he sits in a chair on the balcony overlooking their flourishing kingdom. The sun is low as it rests on the horizon and reflects its dazzling rays across the mighty Nile River. Egyptian citizens stand in the shallows with pails gathering fresh, clean water for drinking and cooking. "Humanity has a perfect, stable climate to thrive in and resources are always bountiful." She slowly moves her hand down the front of his exposed muscular chest that's still deliciously lean. As gods they have their duties and obligations, all of which lie with maintaining that perfect climate and the plentifulness of resources. Everything has been a paradise since the power couple were crowned as King and Queen of Egypt because they take their roles so seriously. It's undeniably their purpose.

"We must maintain this, my queen," Eren relaxes back in his seat from her touch and sighs with content. "They're counting on us to watch over and keep them safe."

"And we will." She assures as gracefully walks around the chair to sit in her husband's lap and rests her cheek on his shoulder. He wraps an arm around her back and reaches up to carefully play with her soft black hair. "Nothing is more important than maintaining this order so there remains no injustices and everyone stays equal."

"That is why we rule together," He chuckles softly into her hair and kisses the top of her head. "We have the same goals when it comes to caring for our people."

"Must we go to that party this evening? I think I'd rather stay here.." Her finger traces small patterns on his chest and he smiles, amused at the way she's speaking so innocently.

"Unfortunately, yes. Jean mentioned he had something important to show me, though I would much rather be in bed with you. Maybe we can leave right afterwards and return to messy up the clean sheets?"

"I would love that." Mikasa lifts her head to look into dazzling emeralds and places her hand on his cheek, then bumps their foreheads together gently.

"Oh, how I love you."

"And I you.." She smiles and presses her lips to his to share a deep, loving smooch that's slow and tender. Tongues collide between kisses as her fingers slide up into his hair and he rests his arm over her legs, allowing his hand to slowly wander on soft skin not covered with the skirt of her dress. Words cannot describe how much the couple crave each other, they've never been able to keep their hands to themselves when they're together, but there's quite a time constraint because of the large dinner party they have invitations to this evening. It's not as if they don't have practice stowing their sexual tension on the back burner to make something more important their first priority, whatever that may be. In this case it's a celebration being thrown by Jean, who wouldn't normally bother to invite the one guy he despises more than anything. But the envy in his heart is real and it's all because of his brother's undeniable success - humanity is thriving under Eren's powerful rule as a just, generous, and giving god of life, so the decision to take him out was an easy one. Especially after his wife later became pregnant with a baby that wasn't of his seed, though he still isn't aware that Eren had been tricked into this with a cruel spell that made her appear to be Mikasa. It wouldn't matter if he did know anyhow since his brother is dead to him now and all he wants is revenge.

Perhaps that's why Jean went to all the trouble of having a coffin constructed with his brother's exact height. He plans to do the unthinkable and kill his own flesh and blood because if anyone is going to be Lord of Life, it's going to be him, certainly not Eren. "And so anyone who can fit in this beautiful coffin shall receive it free as a gift." Jean gestures to the box made from stone, the thin gold sheets that were beautifully pressed into it reflect the glimmer from candlelight. The necessary symbols have already been painted on its entirety so his brother's soul has the directions it needs to navigate the afterlife. Many party guests lined up to participate including the one this coffin is intended for and his wife, who cuddles into him drunkenly while he keeps a protective arm around her shoulders. She smiles and rests her cheek on his bicep while he speaks with other attendees, both of them blissfully unaware of the events that are soon to take place. And just as anticipated, Mikasa very quickly became the one most horrified when the coffin's lid was slammed shut and fastened so tightly, that its a guarantee his victim won't be able to escape.

"Jean! What in the name of all creation are you doing?!" Mikasa cries as she grabs onto him desperately and uses all of her strength to throw him off, hoping that if the coffin was dropped that perhaps it would crack open. "Have you lost your mind?! That's my husband! Release him immediately!" But a few of Jean's friends were waiting on the sidelines for his cue to restrain her, something that wasn't an easy task by any means because she insists on throwing herself around, kicking, screaming, and crying hysterically. It was necessary for him to get the coffin outside, however, and she did manage to get away long enough to reach the outside of the palace. She watches with blurry eyes, screaming for her husband as the coffin is cruelly tossed into The Nile River to be carried out to sea, where it was eventually lodged in a mighty tamarisk tree in Bybalos that grew to consume it rather quickly.

The King and Queen of Bybalos walk together along the beach shoreline. They were drawn here during their daily stroll by a sweet scent emanating from the tamarisk tree and ordered it to be cut down and made into a ornamental pillar for the palace. Unbeknownst to the royal family, a goddess mourns terribly over her husband's death and, after following the river, she has found her way to Bybalos. She's already in a new form in order to disguise her true identity - an elderly woman who wails in grief over her missing love. His body is somewhere nearby, she can feel it, and her heart calls to him whether he's alive or not. Little did she know, there were a few young women standing nearby watching her with sad eyes. "Excuse me, madam?" One says sweetly, and Mikasa immediately turns to see the two of them wearing looks of true concern. They are clearly handmaidens from their attire. "Are you alright?"

"Have you a home to live in?" The other asks.

"Oh, I-I don't want to be a burden.."

"Nonsense! We insist!" And so The Queen of the Throne, disguised as a normal, elderly woman, was kindly taken in by the King and Queen of Bybalos. She was asked to be the nursemaid for their three young boys who had really taken a liking to her, a task that she rather enjoyed and took very seriously. Mikasa favored the youngest son in particular, though, and decided that she would make him immortal through a bath of holy fire. But the lady of the house caught such a terrifying act right before the ceremony could proceed and she was understandably horrified.

"What are you doing with my baby boy?!"

"Please, this is not as it seems." She says calmly as she transforms into her normal form, a sight so beautiful and mighty to behold that they were afraid for their lives. "I am the goddess, Mikasa, and I truly mean you no harm."

"W-well, what is it you want?"

"I only want my husband. The tree you made your beautiful ornamental pillar from was the one he died in and his body is still trapped."

"Oh, dear!" The Queen says, stepping back from the doorway leading out into the parlor where the pillar is displayed. "Please, help yourself. Our condolences for King Eren's passing.."

"Thank you. You're all very kind." Mikasa gently touched her palm to the foreheads of each family member and cured them of all ailments to show her gratitude, one of them had been stuck in bed for years with crippling pain that is now gone. She doesn't even do it for the praise, it's never been about that for her and Eren. In fact, that's why they were paired together by their creator, because he knew this power couple will put the needs of humanity before their own. But just this one time, Mikasa chooses to be selfish and shuts herself out from that world to focus on carrying her husband's lifeless body back to Egypt. She assumes her half falcon form and carries them both through the air as tears stream down her face. "No, no, no, no..." Not him, not my Eren. She says to herself and swallows hard as she looks down at his face, paler than before with slightly blue lips from suffocating. "I can't go on without you.." Mikasa whispers to him, and her voice quivers as she lands gracefully in the fertile Nile River Delta with him in her arms. Her wings slowly fade as she carefully sits with him on the ground, his upper half resting in her lap. She kisses his forehead and wraps her arms around his shoulders, sobbing and wailing in agony like she has been torn in half. It hurts deeply to see him lifeless. "You were alive an hour ago! This can't be!"

"Mikasa?" Hitch calls from behind her. "Is that Eren?! What on Earth happened?!" She approaches slowly and crouches down beside her sister with a look of horror.

"Jean happened. I must revive my husband so, if you'll excuse me, I have herbs to gather."

"Of course, anything you need. I'll stay here with his body and make sure nothing happens."

"Thank you." It was strange how Mikasa can look at her with teary eyes but such a cold expression. Though she and Eren have always been inseparable, so it shouldn't be that much of a surprise that she's so heartbroken. They were supposed to be together until the end of time, and perhaps this can still happen if she is able to gather the herbs she needs for a spell that will bring him back to her. I can't live without him by my side. She thinks as she searches desperately for supplies, tears rolling down her cheeks and falling to the ground, creating little flower buds that sprout from the ready Earth below.

Meanwhile, Jean had gotten wind of his brother's return and Mikasa's intentions, so he went out to search for them. He came across his wife Hitch, who was pacing impatiently along The Nile's coastline clearly feeling bothered by something. And he's pretty sure that he knows what it is. "Thinking about how you cheated on me?" Jean asks plainly. A simple question and yet she found herself unable to speak. "So, where's his body?" He studies her eyes and takes note of the hesitation that makes her avert his probing gaze.

"Where's whose body?" Hitch cracks her knuckles anxiously and looks down at the ground, only for him to gently grab her chin and force her to look into his eyes.

"Don't. I know you know where Eren's body is, so where is it?"

"I-"

"Where is his body, Hitch?"

"Jean.." Her eyes fill up with tears. Perhaps if she apologizes, this will all be over. "I'm -"

"I love you and I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I need to. So I'll ask you one last time, where did you and Mikasa hide that dirt bag's body?" Jean repeats much louder than before but just as emotionless. She eventually caves in and guides him to the hiding spot, not at all anticipating what her vengeful husband proceeded to do next. The body was hacked into multiple pieces then scattered throughout the land and dumped into The Nile River. Jean simply walks away without even looking at her because he finds that he doesn't care what she thinks anymore. Why put in the effort if there clearly isn't anything there? Mikasa strolls by carrying a basket full of herbs intended to bring her husband back to life and was angered to see his murderer. When she realized that he was covered in blood but his own body was absent of any wounds, it's understandable why she feared the worst. Much to her rel͏i͏e͏f, Hitch is very much alive and in one piece, but that also means something horrific has happened to Eren's body to make her sister look like that - shaking, paler than a ghost, and weeping after she's already cried a great deal.

"You were supposed to protect him!"

"He just..I-I didn't think that he would..."

"We must hurry and find every part of Eren's body!" Mikasa cries as she sets the basket of herbs on the ground. The twin sisters sprout their wings and take off in a frantic search for all of his body parts. Unfortunately, the way that the power couple had originally intended to conceive will now be impossible once Eren is revived, because all but one body part was successfully recovered. They return to the fertile Nile River marshes where his body is sewn back together and buried in the wetland up to his chin. Mikasa creates her concoction and with help from her sister, they performed the powerful spell, sending visible waves of energy brighter than the full moon into his body. The raven's tears fall to the Earth and he takes a sharp inhale before he sits up to cough aggressively, the marshland falling from his body. "Oh! Eren! My love!" She sobs into her hand as she watches him turn and meet her eyes, emerald green orbs so bright and lively that they took her breath away.

"Mikasa!" Eren says with genuine shock to his voice and opens his arms for her to embrace him tightly. He looks over her shoulder at Hitch with tears in his eyes and wraps his arms tightly around Mikasa's waist. "What the hell happened?"

"We revived you!" She sits back and gazes into his eyes, smiling and chuckling softly in disbelief. "I-I didn't think it would take because you were hacked to pieces, but here you are..."

"But my body, I feel it is not complete?"

"I'm afraid it's not, I'm so sorry, I couldn't find your -"

"Our creator..." Eren cuts her off, looking down at his body to see the sutures. "I met him. He said that our future son will be strong enough to defeat Jean and restore order to the chaos he has caused."

"But without your..." Mikasa sighs and wipes tears from her eyes, wracking her mind for some sort of a solution that could bring her husband peace. It is her duty as his wife, after all.

"The ritual...flying form," Hitch suggests as she places her hand on Mikasa's shoulder. "Perhaps it'll work?" She offers a small smile to her sister and watches her stand to sprout her beautiful, colorful wings once more. Soaring through the sky in rapid circles over his body, the seed is drawn out and brought into her own so she could become pregnant with their first and only child. With the power of the gods, a baby boy was now growing rapidly inside of Mikasa as she kneels beside her husband, trying desperately not to burst into tears because he is insisting that he has work to do in the afterlife.

"Our little boy will grow to be a warrior with or without me because he has you. You're just as fierce as I am. More so, even."

"Let's get you back to the palace, love, I'll take care of you.." Mikasa repeats for a second time as tears fall down her cheeks.

"We will be together again," Eren says calmly and carefully cradles her cheek in his hand. "Death won't keep us apart forever, then we will have all of eternity to spend together." He gives her a reassuring smile and reaches up to gently push her hair back as she leans in and presses her lips to his. Although she was most certainly reluctant to let him go, Mikasa knows that this is something he must do. And if their creator has instructed him to be leader of the afterlife, to be the judge and the jury of every soul that will come his way, then who is she to tell him otherwise? It was only a single day after Eren descended down to take on his new role that their little boy was born. But Mikasa feared for his safety around Jean because he's half of the man he hates the most, so she hid with him in The Nile River Marshes. She took care of her son, a son of two powerful gods,  during the short time required for a youngster to become full grown.

The day that their son left his mother spelled the end for Jean, who had already become somewhat of a tyrant. It's understandable how he gained control so quickly, since the boy's powerful parents have been more than preoccupied lately with their own issues - ones that made it difficult to put their loyal, loving subjects first for once. This young man is powerful, very powerful, and his uncle doesn't stand a chance against him. He gets the ultimate revenge for his father's murder and kills Jean, though it seemed pointless because he knows that won't bring his old man back. But it truly didn't matter, because now his mother Mikasa, the great Queen of the Throne and mother to all pharaohs is back in power once more. They rule together as mother and son, and everything returns to the way things were when her husband was alive - no crimes of any kind, plentiful resources, plenty of jobs and money. It's a paradise.

Meanwhile, in the afterlife, Eren sits on his throne and listens to pleas for mercy from a poor soul whose heart felt so guilty, that the feather went up in record timing. The pleas don't matter, not with the efficiency that comes from weighing guilt. He was crowned as The Lord of The Underworld and now sports green skin to symbolize the mighty Nile River and the fertility of its mud. The afterlife is running smoothly under Eren's control and when his beautiful wife Mikasa takes her throne beside him after her time is up, they will be together again.

Until the end of time.

[queenharumiura]

The spry and energetic: Mizumachi and Haru

Send me a ship and I will grade it: ||Still accepting||

C: Not a bad ship

Mmmnnn if we put my laziness into the equation, I think this could go into D: I’m neutral to it, territory. Mainly because that means I gotta ship with myself and do all the work on my own lol. Then again... how is it any different from fanfiction writing, right? Kek. 

Jokes aside, this is an interesting thought. Mizumachi and Haru are both really energetic, loyal, and impulsive people. They are both very alike in many ways. Both are very athletic, and they definitely have their odd moments as well. Mizumachi is a bit on the... uh... how to say it... dumb side. He acknowledges it too. 

Haru on the other hand is from a school that is noted for having intelligent students. Still, she does a lot of dumb and questionable things. I do think that sometimes it’s partly due to her age, where young teens are prone to doing dumb stuff. They like to play and troll around. Like, some of the weird stuff Haru does... let’s face it, it’s something the kids of this generation love. 

Your friend is in the hospital? Let’s cosplay as a ghost and a doctor! A shaman works too!

Mizumachi is a social butterfly who gets along with a lot of people. If memory serves me right, he gets a lot of Valentine’s day chocolates because of how popular he is. Given the way Haru is, I think she would have a good number of friends in  her own school. Since she’s affiliated with the Vongola, we don’t really get to see how she is in her school. 

The most we know is that she’s from a good school, and she’s a part of the gymnastics club. 

I’m sure they’d both get along really well, especially as friends. The two could run around and frolick together and just get excited about stuff. Mizumachi and Haru both love to be supportive to their friends, so i’m sure they would be super supportive towards the other.

‘Look at my new costume!’ “That’s so rad! Good job!” ‘HEEEEEYYYYYY My team is making it to the semi-finals!’ “Hahi! Congratulations-desu!”

Stuff like that. 

I’d have to say that Mizumachi has almost no sense of... self-preservation. I’ll never forget the fact that he went up against Agon, resulting in him having a dislocated shoulder. On top of that, in the hospital, he’s like hospital bed surfing? 

BOOOIIII IF YOU DON’T CHECK YOURSELF----

Note: Agon has a ridiculously bad temper and he’s known to attack and hurt people. Mizumachi was very dumb to greet him (sorta aggressively, might I add in a sportsman way) the way he did. 

I can already see Haru being very worried about him, and possibly also scolding him. She looks after Lambo and I-pin a lot, so she’s got that big sister vibe going on. She won’t care who you are and how old you are, she WILL scold you. 

She also has like no self-preservation instincts either. One of the deadly twins behind her who is out for her life? Nope, no idea. What’s that? I’ll continue to read my book blissfully unaware. Slapping a future mafia boss? German Suplexing someone who is in the mafia? Heck, punching out a mafia affiliated doctor (who was perverted)??? 

Man... if this series didn’t have an emphasis on humor in the beginning arcs... this wouldn’t have ended well for her. 

Mizumachi will likely get scolded for the dumb stuff he does. He tests the boundaries a lot, and he can be rude due to his haughtiness. He has gotten better as the series progressed though. He no longer looks down on short people (figuratively), but he’s come to respect them as fellow sportsman. You may be small, but you can pack a lot of power!

The moment he says something rude to someone, you can expect Haru to just dramatic gasp and be like, you can’t say that! They’d work better as friends, I’d say. Sure, he can be serious, but it’s usually only when he’s in the game. He’s not very serious outside of a game. Haru would have a hard time dealing with that, I think. 

Especially if you think about a relationship in the long run. Haru be like: “I see him more like a younger brother that Haru has to scold. Don’t mind that he’s over 40cm taller than me.” [also older than her]

So yeah, I think they’d be good friends! They’d know how to have fun and support each other! However, in a relationship? I feel like Haru would get so tired out. OTL|||||| Perhaps he’d mature more with age and it would turn out okay. Hard to say!

[girls-scenarios]

Lovesick Fool

Idol: Joy (Red Velvet)

Prompt: Ok yay! So If its not too much to ask can you do a Red Velvet x fem reader angst imagine. Preferably joy or Wendy where they don't realize their friend (the reader) is in love with them until they're in a relationship with the readers best friend  (you can choose any member preferably an RV member) so the reader starts to distance herself from them? Can have a have ending or a sad one.

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: Oof well my mental health has been really bad and I just needed to get out all these feelings and write something angst-y. There isn’t going to be a happy ending in this one because I don’t really feel like happy endings right now but I hope you all enjoy and I’ll hopefully be back to posting my usual content soon.

You’d pretty much been in love with Joy since you first laid eyes on her. She was so pretty, so alluring, but that wasn’t all of it. You fell in love with her cute laugh and her sweet smile and the way she grabbed your hand when she was excited, and you fell in love with her wonderful personality, with the way she stopped to feed stray cats and was always ready to help her friends. Honestly, there were so many reasons you’d fallen for her that even a book wouldn’t have the room to list all of them. She was just that wonderful, there was no way you couldn’t have fallen for her. Everyone did.

That was why you knew she’d never return your feelings. She had people all over her, all around her that loved and adored her. You were just a friend of a friend, and no matter how close the two of you got, you knew that she would never fall for someone like you. Not when she had so many better options to choose from.

Still, it hurt when she turned around and dated your best friend.

“Sooyoung asked me out last night!” Yeri sounded so excited as she stirred her coffee, eyes sparkling and a flush to her cheeks that wasn’t because of her makeup, and even though she was smiling like you’d never seen her smile before, it was hard to smile back. You wished it were you sitting there, happily telling your best friend about the woman of your dreams asking you out. But Yeri was your best friend, so you had to fake it.

“Wow, really? Congratulations!” You took a sip of your drink, hoping the cup hid how fake your happiness was. “So are you guys a thing now?”

“I guess,” she said, playing with the ends of her hair, too busy grinning at the table like a fool to notice the smile falling off your face. “We’re going to go on a date tonight and if that goes well, I don’t see why not to date her. I really like her, you know? She’s incredible.”

“Yeah, she is. I’m happy for you,” you lied, once again bringing up your cup to block your face, but again, she didn’t seem to notice anything, too lost in her own world. A world where the woman she loved, loved her in return.

“I’m so excited for tonight! Oh, do you think she’ll kiss me? Just thinking about it makes me so nervous, I haven’t kissed anyone since middle school.” Your best friend pressed her cheeks together, letting out a shy laugh. Since when had she been shy? “I really can’t wait.”

“Good for you. You have to pick out something super cute to wear, send me the look so I can make sure it’s appropriate.”

“Okay, mom! I will.” Your best friend tucked her hair behind her ear, and you stared at her, knowing that you were a terrible friend. What kind of best friend wanted their friend’s girl for themselves?

“I have to go,” you said suddenly, knowing tears were not far away as you cleared your throat and pretended to look at something on your phone. “My boss is asking me for some things I have saved on my laptop. Have fun tonight, okay?” You managed a smile her way as you picked up her bag, and she smiled back, blissfully unaware of your inner turmoil, waving her dainty little hand.

“Okay, thank you! I’ll send you a picture before I go!” You didn’t want to see the photo. In fact, you didn’t want her to go on the date at all. But still, you smiled as you left. Smiled until you were blocks away and your cheeks ached and your eyes burnt because everything hurt so bad. Angrily, you rubbed your fist against your eyes, cursing yourself.

You’d known. You’d known that Joy would never return your feelings, that you were nothing more than a friend. But that didn’t mean you hadn’t hoped. And that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt.

-

“(Y/N)!” She called your name before barreling into you, almost knocking you over in her excitement. “Did you hear? I got the acting part! Isn’t that awesome?”

“That’s incredible, Joy, I’m so happy for you!” The girl in your arms let out a giggle as she pulled away to look at you, eyes wide and hair a mess. Somehow, out of breath and babbling like a kid, she still looked so cute, and you couldn’t help smiling, reaching up to smooth down her hair. “You did really well.”

She beamed, making your heart skip a beat. She was so close.... There was no way she didn’t know what she was doing... right? “Thank you! I’m seriously so excited to get started with this project. It’s something that I’ve been wanting to try for a while. But I couldn’t have done it without your support.” You could feel your cheeks warming, but you hoped she didn’t notice. How long had the two of you been hugging?

“Oh, don’t be silly. It’s all thanks to your skills. And the girls supported you as much as I did.”

“Of course, but you supported me too, so that deserves a thank you, right? Plus, you sent me that beautiful bouquet the day I went in to audition, and that really helped.” She pulled away, but reached up to playfully pat your cheek and wink. “I love you, (Y/N).” Your heart caught in your throat and your mouth went dry as you tried to think. Was this for real? Did she really mean it? “You’re an incredible friend, you know that?” Oh. Your shoulders sagged slightly and you swallowed, nodding awkwardly.

“Well, if you say so.”

“I say so. Come on, me and the girls are going to go get some cake to celebrate. Are you in?”

“Only if it’s Red Velvet cake,” you joked, trying not to show your conflicting feelings inside. She just rolled her eyes and reached over to grab your hand.

“What’s that even supposed to mean? Come on, silly. Let’s go.”

-

Yeri looked cute. It was awful. Groaning, you buried your head in your pillow to let out a little scream before rolling back over to reply to her.

You look adorable. Kill it tonight!

It’s just a date, not a stage! But thanks lol. Love you!

Those words just made you feel worse, because every time you saw them, you read them in her voice. Swallowing, you typed back a quick love you too before turning off your phone completely and closing your eyes. You were a terrible person, but you hoped the date wouldn’t go well. Maybe they wouldn’t hit it off as well as they thought they would.

But that was a dumb thought, because of course they knew how they got along. They’d known each other for years, they’d been in the same band for years. They were going on a date now because both of them knew they were ready for a relationship and knew they liked each other.

Once again, you rolled over to scream into your pillow. You were an adult, why were you thinking and acting like some lovesick fool over a woman you knew didn’t love you? The little voice in your head told you it was because you were dumb and believed she might, but you tried to ignore it, squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t want to think about this anymore. You wanted to get drunk and forget everything for a while.

So you did, sitting up and throwing your legs over the side of your bed, rubbing away the tears on your cheeks as you moved towards the kitchen. Drinking just this once to cope wouldn’t hurt, right?

At least, that’s what you told yourself as you moved back towards your room with your arms full of booze and snacks. You were going to drown and forget, and you didn’t care what the consequences might be.

-

Joy looked especially beautiful bathed in sunset lighting, leaning against the balcony railing outside your apartment.

“The city sure is pretty,” she said, smiling as she looked down, but you couldn’t stop staring at her, watching the way the slight wind played with her hair and the way the uneven sunlight cast dancing shadows over her face. The faint sound of music could be heard from inside, with Yeri singing along, but the sounds of the city almost drowned it out, making it seem like it was just you and Joy in the world.

“It is,” you replied, moving to stand beside her. “I come out here a lot after I eat dinner to just watch the sunset.”

“I’m jealous. I wish our dorm had this view.”

“You can come over any time?” She let out a little giggle and leaned closer, her shoulder brushing yours.

“Really?”

“Really. This view is too special not to share.” She smiled, and it made your heart skip and jump. How could a girl be so beautiful?

“That’s really sweet of you to say, (Y/N). You’re always so sweet. I like being around you.”

“Oh. Well, I’m glad.” Her dark eyes were deep enough to drown in, and you found yourself stuck, staring at her with your lips parted ever so slightly. Now would be the perfect time for one of those drama kiss scenes, except....

“Hey, you guys want any dessert?” Yeri’s voice sounded from inside the apartment, and you jumped, looking back over your shoulder.

“I’m always down for dessert,” Joy called back to her, turning to walk back inside, and you bit your lip, watching her go for a moment before following her back inside. You paused at the door, listening to your friends talk as you looked back at the city. It had been so close.

“Are you coming, (Y/N)?”

“Yeah, be right there.”

-

“How did the date go?” As soon as the question left your lips, you regretted asking it. But Yeri’s face lit up, and you could tell exactly how happy she was.

“It was so perfect. I’ve been imagining going on an actual date with her for years now, but it was so much better than anything I could have imagined.”

“Hey, now, your imagination isn’t really that great so you set the bar pretty low.” You kept your tone as light and playful as you could, and Yeri scoffed, shoving your shoulder gently.

“Oh, shut up. You’re just jealous because I went on a date and you didn’t. Go find yourself a girlfriend, dude!” That wasn’t the reason you were jealous. But you’d never have the heart to tell her the real reason.

“I’m too busy for all that love and dating stuff,” you said, and Yeri frowned at you across her table, reaching over to touch your hand.

“Awe, don’t say that. I know there’s someone out there for you, (Y/N), you’re incredible.” Yeah, you were a terrible person. You gave her the best smile you could muster as you internally beat yourself up. Yeri was such a good girl, she really loved you, as much as a friend could. And you needed to show her that you loved her just as much.

“Thanks. I’m glad you found your special someone.” She beamed at you and retracted her hand, taking a sip of her tea.

“Thanks. I’m lucky to have a friend as good as you.”

-

You had to leave. You had to stop. You couldn’t keep living like this. After about three nights of crying, you looked yourself in the eye through your mirror and confronted everything: your feelings for Joy, and your wishes for Yeri. You wanted both of them to be happy, and their happiness didn’t involve you. At least, not in the way you wished it did.

You wouldn’t tell Joy. You’d switch jobs, move somewhere further away where you wouldn’t have to see them as much so that you’d have more time to think about it. And so you wouldn’t have to look at Joy and know that she’d never return the feelings burning a hole through your chest.

Your plan was perfect, up until it was time to say goodbye.

“I still don’t understand why you’re leaving this apartment,” Joy said, standing up from where she’d been taping together a box. Despite your assurance that you could move alone, Yeri had insisted she and the band come help you move. And, of course, Joy was part of the band. “The view is so beautiful.”

“Sometimes things just have to change,” you said, careful not to meet her eyes. Yeri and the other girls had left you alone with her to go get dinner, and your heart hadn’t stopped making a ruckus since they left. You were afraid of what you might do or say, given the opportunity, so you just didn’t look at her. “The other job just paid better, and the new apartment has a good view too.”

For a moment, all was quiet, the only noise coming from the radio Yeri left on in the kitchen. Then, Joy cleared her throat, setting the box down with the others. “You know, you’ve felt a little distant recently. Is everything okay?” No, nothing was okay. But you couldn’t tell her that. You couldn’t tell her that you were moving away to deal with your feelings and grow up a little.

“Yeah, dealing with the move has just been a little stressful.” Joy let out a sigh, and even though you couldn’t see her with your back turned to her, you knew she was making her little frustrated face, her nose scrunched up in the cutest way.

“Well, I don’t want to pry, and I wont make you tell me anything. But I feel like this has been going on for longer than this move. And I just want to say, if I did anything, I’m sorry.” She was being genuine. Of course she was, Joy was a good person. That was why you’d fallen in love with her in the first place. Your heart broke all over again, and you paused from packing, shoulders tense.

You didn’t know what to do in this situation. You cared about Joy, and wanted her to know the truth, but if that truth would hurt her and Yeri, then it wasn’t worth it. Still, how long could you hide it? And how long would it be until you exploded one night and everything came out anyway? Would it be better to just tell her now and get it off your chest? You let out a sigh and leaned over, resting your head on the end of the box. Why was life so hard?

“(Y/N)? Is something wrong?”

“No. Well, yes, but... it’s really hard to explain.” Finally, you turned to look at her. She was bathed in that sunset light that made her look so beautiful, and you bit your lip, taking her in one last time. For a moment, you let yourself imagine that she was hers: imagine that you were the one kissing her, holding her hand, calling her cringe nicknames that made all your friends gag, and loving her unconditionally. But it was all imaginary, all in your head, and you knew it. “Listen, this is going to be hard to say, so I’m sorry in advance.” Her eyes widened slightly, and she sat down, face worried.

“What’s going on?”

“I-I’ve had feelings for you, for a while now. Seriously, I fell for you so hard, because you’re so irresistible and wonderful and beautiful in so many ways. And even though I knew you’d never return my feelings, I was a fool and got hope from moments that were never really anything when I think about them again. So when you and Yeri started dating, it was really hard for me to take. But... Yeri’s my best friend, and you’re my friend too, and I care about both of you. So I decided it would be best for me to leave and grow up a little, sort out my feelings before I hurt either of you, so that I could be a better version of myself when I met the two of you again. I’m sorry that I’m telling you all of this so late, and I’m sorry for crying, and I’m sorry for having these feelings for you because I know this is probably just a burden for you. I’m sorry. But you won’t have to worry about me anymore.” You could feel the tears that you’d been trying to hide for so long rolling down your cheeks, and you scrubbed at them, wishing them away, but they wouldn’t stop.

Joy’s mouth was dropped slightly open, her eyes shaking ever so slightly as she stared at you in shock. “All of this.... This is real?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m just.... Really sorry if I gave you any sort of idea. I didn’t mean to lead you on, I swear.”

“No, you didn’t. It was all me, making things up in my head.” You smiled at her through your tears. “You’re an amazing person, really. Yeri is so lucky. And you’re lucky to have her too.”

“I- don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just thought you should know that before I leave. But please, don’t tell Yeri. I don’t want her to think I’m a terrible friend. I’m doing this more for her than for me.” The radio in the kitchen had started playing some sort of sad indie song, and the setting sun had almost disappeared. Your shadow was long in front of you, and the room felt stagnant.

“I won’t. I promise. But promise me in return that you’ll do this for yourself too, okay? I think you’re an amazing person too, and I want you to find someone who really loves you.” She held out her hand, giving you that soft smile you’d fallen in love with, and you bit your lip. This was why you loved her so much, and why it would hurt so much to leave. But you knew it had to be done as you took her hand, shaking on it.

“When I come back, I want both of you to be happy together, okay? Treat my best friend well.”

“I will, don’t worry.” She took a deep breath before shaking her head, whatever thoughts she had going unsaid as the door opened and Wendy announced her presence with a loud complaining about the restaurant being out of the chicken she wanted. You exchanged a look with Joy before she quickly looked away and stood up, going to greet Yeri by the door. Yeri gave her a wide smile and moved closer, and you looked away, unable to watch as you packed the rest of your things. Irene called to you, telling you that they had the food you’d ordered, and you just nodded, clearing your throat so your voice wouldn’t break before saying you’d be right there. With your back turned, you wiped your face clean of any evidence of your foolishness and taped up the box in front of you before standing and steeling yourself and looking around.

Everyone was happy: smiling and talking with the ones they loved. They weren’t worried about the future, or heartbroken about the past. Yes, they were happy. And maybe, one day, you would be too.