#bog hottie

[dismalrain]

I painted a hot bog lady!!

[freelanceplatypus]

Hat that says "I'd rather be mummifying in a peat bog"

[bigchallenger]

dilf patrick

✎ dilf!patrick

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ didn't quite capture his essence but it felt cute . send requests i love this

patrick had never really felt attached to a person before-- not the way he felt attached to you, at least-- especially when it came to his dating life. patrick zweig did not date. patrick zweig had dreams, and he couldn't handle some silly "long-term serious relationship" bogging him down. the only thing patrick zweig was serious about was tennis. 

until he met you. until he met you and your eyes seemed to show him everything he had been missing for his entire life. it wasn't even a dealbreaker when he found out you were a whole decade younger. or when he found out you had a kid from a previous relationship. patrick zweig who was, though he'd never admit it himself, so afraid of relationships wasn't afraid of you. or your kid. he actually quite liked the kid and regarded him no differently than he'd regard one with his dna. 

when he was in town, he was always down to stay in with you two and watch a movie. cuddle on the couch like a real family. when he was away, he was constantly asking for pics and updates on the little guy. patrick had grown incredibly fond of you two without even realizing it, and suddenly fooling around with other hotties on tour didn't even cross his mind. what did cross his mind was when he'd get to go home next.

[she-is-27-i-checked]

Nothing makes me sadder than being too bogged down in real life bullshit to be appropriately horny on the Sabbath... But I am hoping to be free in 90 minutes.... Drop some debauchery in my ask hole?

What have you blessed degenerates got on your minds?

Any thoughts on the You Don't Go Here Recs I've been serving? And requests for topics to find for you in future?

Found any new hotties or had any new filthy ideas?

Anything you would like from Santa's sack at this time of year? 👀

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Faust Love

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe: Submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the tale of faust Goethe: so this guy sells his soul to the devil to get the ultimate knowledge Goethe: oh the guy's name is faust by the way

Goethe: so part 1 is all about faust trying to bang this one hottie Goethe: part 2 is where we just go off the rails Goethe: he meets dante! Goethe: and the devil invents fiat currency! Goethe: we need to go back on the gold standard btw Barker: oh christ here we go

Goethe: so faust anyway is despairing about the vanity of scientific, humanistic, and religious scholarship Brian Yuzna: hey do you take creative criticism Goethe: yeah? Yuzna: this sucks

Yuzna: this is boring, people don't wanna hear about Faust the scholar Yuzna: they wanna hear about Faust the action star Goethe: Yuzna: see, what if Faust was like a vigilante with big old wolverine claws? Goethe: Goethe: that would be badass Yuzna: yes! exactly!

Yuzna: ok so what if faust sold his soul to the devil for revenge after some gangsters killed his girlfriend? Yuzna: but then the devil tricks him and is all 'ha ha now you have to kill the chinese ambassador for me!' Yuzna: 'make sure you make some wacky quips when you do it'

Goethe: why does the devil want to kill the chinese ambassador Yuzna: details! you're getting bogged down with details!

Yuzna: so the devil wants to use john jaspers to kill people Goethe: john who? Yuzna: john jaspers. that's what we call faust now Goethe: his name's not faust anymore? Yuzna: no no man get with the program! Yuzna: it's john jaspers Yuzna: we'll still call the story Faust tho

Goethe: aren't people going to be confused if we call the story faust but the guy isn't named faust? Yuzna: ok look Yuzna: when the devil kills him, we'll have him buried under a tombstone that says 'faust' Yuzna: happy?

Goethe: Goethe: but if his name is john jaspers why would the tombstone say Yuzna: oh my god i can't work under these conditions

Yuzna: ok so the devil has this sexy assistant with big tits Edward Lee: yeah boi Yuzna: you like that? well hold on to your hats Yuzna: cuz you're gonna love this

Yuzna: you like when a girl has big tits? Lee: you know it Yuzna: ok so picture this Yuzna: what if she turns into a wet blob monster made out of giant tits and ass cheeks Lee: Yuzna: pretty hot huh? Lee: Lee: Lee: i can work with that

Hailey Piper: i feel like this story is missing something Yuzna: what's that? Piper: dunno, just feeling the absence of a something that should have a certain thrill Yuzna: what Piper: and a certain smell Yuzna: what are you talking about Cynthia Pelayo: NO

[acourtofantumbra]

Was doing a deep dive for a future post about *gestures wildly* witches... Manon's lineage... cross-world connections... something I've found that feels actually tangible, maybe. Anyway, despite only dipping a toe into the ToD reread so far (I am not a ToD hater lol I'm just busy) I found myself checking a moment from KoA and took a nosedive into something immediately shinier. But it was so sudden I didn't have time to do my usual highlights/scribbles on my (currently dead) ipad so... enjoy my measly Kindle highlights.

I KNOW many folks have beautifully analyzed SJM's repeated character names because at one point SJM herself basically said, "I keep a record of all of them and I know what I've used."

I've seen folks flag important repeats for years now (we've seen this film before, A+ work, it keeps me up at night!), but the heavy hitters have been Briar, Thanatos, Cormac and even Ruhn (you know... the Erilean mountains and the hottie who knows 3 things).

So it stands to reason that repeated names might deserve some extra scrutiny... And I pray we get some pay off with that in CC3.

Anyway, as I'm pulling at the thread of ToG witches via our (my) favorite queen - Manon - I hadn't realized I fully forgot her dad's name. Frankly, of all the plot points from ToG, Manon's story's specifics were the haziest... except where Dorian is concerned I'm a mere mortal... and that has me suspicious regardless. Anywayyyy, as you can see above, it's Tristan. Tristan Crochan.

I cannot fully explain the cartwheel flip my brain did thumbing through the roladex of SJM's characters... because Tristan Flynn was not the energy my brain was ready for after reading this really sad passage about Manon's murdered family.

On my first read of the SJMU I went ACOTAR (long break between the original and ACOSF) -> CC -> TOG. And on my first TOG read, this passage triggered no alarm bells. I probably just didn't remember Flynn all that much. But after my CC reread... oh. I remember him. Don't you worry.

Now I am fan of Flynn. He's got a rakishness I simp for, I root for him and the dragon, and clocked his lordship woes despite having what we've all decided is a "hot dad". He's a good time. And Flynn feels like someone to watch! He makes an appearance in not one, but two, CC bonus chapters... and he's got a crush on the aforementioned dragon, who either was introduced for no reason or is gonna be a key player going forward. Or SJM is fucking with us. I don't have the answers.

But what I'm struck by Tristan-wise is a) the similarity in the little physical descriptors we get - brown hair, brown eyes and b) not actually Flynn-related... but a deeply similar sounding story to none other than the Autumn King. Daughter you didn't know was born to a woman you claim was your real love... check. Searching far and wide with a singular focus on recovering your daughter... check. Having another kid out of obligation and duty to continue on important bloodlines... check!!!

It might not have anything to do with Flynn at this current moment... but it's not implausible. Lord Flynn is of course a beloved frat-pack member living in a dump with his fellow bros. He specifically pops up in these bonus chapters going through the motions necessitated by his aristocratic bloodline. His mom/family is eager to marry him and his sister off - of course he seems miserable about the whole idea. But also resigned to it? It seems complicated. TLDR there's a world where Flynn's like "woof, yeah I gotta get married off but the heart wants what it wants!" There is precedent!

Also, I've been 👀 Flynn since it was flagged that he has "super rare earth powers" not commonly seen in Valbaran Fae... first off, what does that mean? Second, hot?!

Well I've done it again, so many words and nothing really of note to take away haha. I'll be honest, my mind was not in a Tristan Flynn headspace!! I'm kind of bogged down in my own thoughts about the witchier women of this multiverse... but in my dragon theory speculation Flynn popped up again and I really can't explain why random dead ends are turning up Tristan!!! I'm not mad about it, but I wish I understood.

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

Humor (2) Masterlist

part one

3 A.M. - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) michael/luke M, 4k

Summary: Five times Michael accidentally meets Luke in the bathroom and the one time he meets him there on purpose.

a change of heart and a silver lining (ao3) - bellawritess luke/calum T, 18k

Summary: Calum’s not obsessed with routine or anything, but he does become accustomed to certain constants in life. Michael is always about eight minutes late. Ashton always records vocals barefoot. Calum always knows the person behind the register at Bake Station.

Except today. Today it’s a stranger, though admittedly a stranger who looks enough like Jack that Calum can easily connect the dots.

“Hi there,” says the bloke in Jack’s place, giving Calum a bright smile. “What can I get for you today?”

If this is Luke Hemmings, Calum’s fucked.

(OR: wrong number AU and strangers to lovers bakery AU battled and this was the outcome.)

Between the Sheets - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) calum/ashton, michael/luke E, 19k

Summary: Calum nods, very matter-of-fact. “I definitely know you.”

The guy smiles bigger, the so-familiar dimples getting deeper—even more recognizable now—his expression slightly incredulous. “Where from?”

“Oh, easy, from—” Calum stops. He blinks. He frowns. “Fuck, where do I know you from?”

or, the one where Calum recognizes the hot stranger in his record store from porn but doesn't realize it.

blue gatorade & strawberries (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/calum M, 7k

Summary: “That’s actually why I’m here,” Calum says, causing Luke to frown in confusion.

“To haunt me?”

“To ask if I’m being too loud,” Calum replies with a lopsided smile. “My sister got me these badass speakers for graduation, but the subwoofer can be kind of intense, so I wanted to make sure I wasn’t bothering you.”

“Oh, are you the asshole in 314 whose bass is making it impossible for me to quietly pine after my best friend?”

Commit to the Bit - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) luke/calum E, 6k

Summary: Calum and Luke's sweet sexy time is rudely interrupted by Michael, but he makes up for it by inadvertently giving a helping hand... or jump?

crimson and cream (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/calum T, 3k

Summary: Luke’s it for Calum. He’s always kind of known it, he’s just been patient. Waiting for some intangible thing that will make the time right. He’s not waiting for Luke to realize Calum’s it for him too. Luke also already knows. He just hasn’t quite realized he deserves to have what he wants.

Doggy Style - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) calum/ashton, michael/luke E, 16k

Summary: Calum and Ashton aren’t allowed to have pets in their building. So, when their landlord finds a leash in their apartment, Calum has to come up with a quick lie to explain its presence.

farmer's market hottie (ao3) - sunsetmagnolia T, 3k

Summary: “He’s cute,” Luke reports. “But you were right about him looking like he doesn’t shower.” “That’s because he doesn’t,” Michael says.

home is wherever you are tonight (ao3) - lifewasradical luke/ashton M, 72k

Summary: Life has become so mundane in the past few years that there’s very little that sends a thrill up Luke’s spine anymore. It’s that idea that had him saying yes to the idea of moving out here for a few weeks anyways: the knowledge that this was a completely new place where no one knew his name. He could be anyone he wanted to be here, within reason. He wouldn’t be seeing any of these people again after May, so what’s the harm in becoming a new person for a bit? Someone not so bogged down by the shit in their head that they can’t get out of bed some mornings. Maybe this is a step in the direction of the person Luke wants to be in the future anyways.

Or, Luke inherits a beach house on a tiny coastal island that needs some work. He didn’t plan on falling in love with the guy at the hardware store.

i can’t keep drowning in the shadows (you’re the only one that matters) (ao3) - beecosmic calum/ashton T, 4k

Summary: After years he’s reached acceptance - he’s totally in love with and gone for Ashton Irwin.

So that’s how he finds himself dressed as a fucking egg, staring at himself in the mirror as he’s contemplating their entire friendship.

Or, in which Calum never really learned how to say no to Ashton.

in a big red bow (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/calum M, 7k

Summary: 5 times Calum checks out Luke’s ass and 1 time he finally gets to touch it.

minute suite dreams (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/calum M, 10k

Summary: The attendant disappears down the hall, and Luke finally gets a good look at the place he and Calum will be spending the night.

“Oh fuck,” Luke murmurs under his breath, wheeling his suitcase into the space and looking back at Calum apologetically. “It’s, uh. Small.”

Serial stranger (ao3) - Calumthoodshands (tndart) luke/calum G, 2k

Summary: Every Sunday, Calum spends his day in the park, watching people, sketching the world, all by himself. Until Luke shows up: limping, with a cute dog, and with more than just one unexpected revelation.

space may be the final frontier but it's made in a hollywood basement (ao3) - kingscrossinseptember calum/ashton, michael/luke T, 6k

Summary: Of course they agreed to do it. When they’d been asked, they’d already signed several NDAs, so it wasn’t as though they could just pretend the whole interaction never happened. Plus, how badass would it be to fool the entire world into thinking people had landed on the moon?

or, 5 times Calum saw Ashton while faking the moonlanding, plus 1 time they met up without a government conspiracy ;)

the story needs some mending (and a better happy ending) (ao3) - bellawritess michael/ashton T, 5k

Summary: “‘Let's see a witch,’” Ashton says. “‘It’ll be fine, Ashton. What could go wrong?’”

“I didn't say witch, I said psychic! How was I meant to know she was both?”

“From the sign!” Ashton says, gesturing emphatically at an A-board whose advertised PSYCHIC/WITCH SERVICES couldn't be more clearly outlined.

Michael tries to grumble but only manages a rumbly croak. “Look, you're fine. I'm the one who’s a bloody frog.”

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes,” Ashton sing-songs.

Tidal Pleasures - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) ot4 E, 2k

Summary: Calum (6:00 pm): @ ash you feel my what now

Michael (6:00 pm): ur tidal pleasures cal dont play dumb

touch (ao3) - lifewasradical luke/ashton E, 6k

Summary: Everyone who’s seen Ashton knows how large his hands are. They’re massive, with palms nearly as big as the entirety of his face and slender, long fingers all dressed in cuts and blisters from drumming with all his might. Even in their teenage years, Ashton’s hands have always been mesmerizing to Luke, especially comparing the size difference between their hands. Ashton’s has always dwarfed Luke’s in a way that no one else’s ever has before and probably never will again.

One thought that has somehow never plagued his mind is how absolutely devastatingly large Ashton’s hand looks on his thigh.

voice of reason (ao3) - kaleidoscopeminds luke/calum T, 5k

Summary: Luke’s definitely, absolutely, 100% sure he’s not addicted to the voice of the guy on his sleep podcast. 

we attract what we're ready for (ao3) - bellawritess luke/calum T, 3k

Summary: “You know, Ashton said he only asked for my number because his friend Luke was too chicken to do it himself,” Calum says. “That’s a quote. I’m not calling you a chicken.”

“Ashton’s such a shit,” Luke says, shutting the washing machine and hitting the start button. He turns with his arms folded across his chest. Calum’s watching him curiously. “You were the star of the show,” Luke says uncomfortably. “That’d be like seeing a concert and then trying to get the lead singer’s number at the meet and greet.”

“I strongly disagree with that comparison,” Calum says, “but I see where you’re coming from. However, counterpoint: I’m clearly not a big deal since I am currently standing here waiting for someone’s laundry to be done. Do you think footie stars have to wait for other people’s laundry?”

we don’t have to live forever, we don’t have to settle down (ao3) - bellawritess michael/calum T, 1k

Summary: “Fuck it,” Calum says, collapsing over Michael and Luke’s laps on the couch. “ I quit. I’m gonna become a farmer.”

[circusgoth-dotcom]

An Early Morning At The Indoor Pool

Ship: Herbert West x Scott Reavey

Word Count: 569

Summary: Herbert gets up early to swim laps. Scott wakes up after him and goes to watch. CWs for food mentions, brief implications of Herbert being self-conscious about his body.

Tag List: @canongf @futurewife @rexscanonwife

Scott awoke to an empty bed, rubbing his eyes in the hazy grey of a too-early morning. He pawed at the space where his boyfriend should’ve been, then reluctantly rolled over and put on his glasses. A note fluttered underneath them and he squinted to read it in the dark.

Headed for the pool, back at 9:10am - H. West

They glanced at the clock. 7:40am. He hadn’t left too long ago.

Knowing it’d take a force of nature to get them back to sleep, Scott swung themself out of bed and got dressed. He lazily brushed his teeth and threw a PB&J sandwich and a clementine into a tupperware container before departing for Miskatonic’s on-campus gym and pool, a rather modern addition considering the school’s age.

The brisk morning air made Scott move quickly across the manicured lawns before immediately being bogged down by the humidity of the indoor pool. He slogged along the tiled floor before plopping down on the bleachers. He scanned the pool and when movement crossed his gaze, he relaxed and opened his breakfast.

He’d just finished the sandwich when Herbert broke the surface of the water, pushing his short hair away from his face. Scott swallowed thickly, watching him pull himself out of the pool with his strong arms, clear water cascading down his fuzzy chest. He was enamoured with the way his lithe body moved as he went to grab his water bottle.

“Morning, Herbie,” Scott croaked, making him jump. He dried off his face and put on his glasses.

“I told you when I’d be back,” Herbert scolded. “You need your rest.”

“I couldn’t sleep without you,” Scott shrugged, peeling the clementine and splitting it in half. He peeled away one of the slices and offered it to his partner. “Orange?”

Herbert shook his head. “Save some for me for after my laps. And that’s a clementine, Scott.”

He popped it in his mouth. “Toh-ma-to, to-mah-to.” He couldn’t help but stare as he chewed. Herbert consciously slipped his thumbs in the waistband of his slick, black trunks.

“What’s with the look?”

Scott blushed and diverted their gaze. “Nothing…”

“It’s not like you haven’t seen me shirtless before, you know.”

“I know, I know… you’re just a total hottie, okay?!”

Herbert snorted. “Oh please, refrain from such juvenile language…”

Scott half-smiled and stood. “Awh, what is it? You’d rather I say you’re a babe? A stunner? My pasty-skinned prettyboy?~”

Herbert took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sometimes I can’t believe we’re dating.”

Scott knew the words held no weight and he laughed, placing the clementine back in his container before taking off his shirt and hugging Herbert tightly, pressing a prolonged kiss to his damp cheek. “Love ya, Herbie.”

“Yes, yes, I love you, too…” Herbert put his glasses back on and glanced down, frowning. “Your pants.”

Scott looked down, too, noting the wet splotches on his thighs. “Ah well, they’ll dry. Alright, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Do your thing.” He went back into the bleachers and sat down, leaving Herbert nodding. He put his shirt back on while Herbert put his glasses back with his towel, took another drink of water, and slipped back into the pool. Scott sighed wistfully and rested his chin in his hands, entertaining himself with ridiculous fantasies of Herbert and himself as protagonists from a cheesy romance novel.

[beefrobeefcal]

BB! The light of my life! My sun and stars!

Many, MANY congratulations on your 900 followers. It's such an incredible accomplishment, and yet it feels like just the beginning. The work you do for all of us is so valuable, and it is my wish that all the hotties on Tumblr.com come (hehe 😋) to stumble upon your page, as I did one fateful day many moons ago.

Here are my colors for you:

Red

Green

Lavender

Orange

Turquoise

Pink

You mean so very much to me! American tax season is being a real bitch, per usual, but once these 7004s and 1042s and 3522s go in the mail, I'm re-binging your entire library. I love you! Here's to 900 — nay, 9,000 — more! 🍻😘🥩💜🥵🥵🥵💦

[in reference to this post]

Lovey, you are just the best thing since they figured out how to cultivate bananas. I am so blessed and happy that you're in my life - even if we both get busy and bogged down by the day to day. I always know you're just a dm away and your thirst for Frankie supersedes my own!

I would say that every colour you hurled at me, I would catapult back tenfold to you bc you're just that special and important. I would even go so far to add BLUE to that pile before slinging it at you [bc you're that fuckin awesome!].

Never stop filling my dms with you-know-what 😏 and keep being the best thing you can be - you.

Yours in sin,

Beefro👌🥩💜

[breitzbachbea]

Would love to know more about ancient Naples' government in the 3rd century BCE. Decent chance Rome is already here, but let's hope not. Because I am still obsessed with Francesco as Strategos that NO ONE TRUSTS but the Vargas are in charge. Because everyone thinks SURELY the brilliant general and devious schemer wants power for himself, this man is just waiting to become a tyrant. But what no one wants to realize is that Francesco only wants enough power to have fun and to play chess on the both smallest and biggest scale. Also, he looks good in the big feathery hat. What he doesn't want? Responsibility that bogs him down. Running shit? Being responsible? Eurgh. No, let me be your most fuckable advisor and strategist. Do you know how irrestible I look on a horse? Maybe we can win Syracuse simply by the King and his hetairoi wanting to fuck me. I heard they're hotties.

[mothermara]

If you think about it, Maces and Savtreid's romance is a subversion of the beautiful woman falls for the unprepossessing man trope. by making maces a total fucking hottie who is completely and hideously down bad for a monstrous bog witch

[mrsbsmooth]

Argh, why why why! Couldn't Amelia be sent home?!?! I'm so fed up with her "private chats" love bog off!

First, she went for Zeph apparently, then after Marshall I was grafting him, then finally hottie Toby comes in and he's all about her! Hello, we are twins!! I want Toby 😫 Lewie is giving me the ick and I don't like any of the other boys. This isn't fair 😢 can we go back to season 1 where everyone wanted MC seems Amelia is the MC 🤬 I'm so taking the money this season if MC doesn't get first pick at the recoupling 🤣

you get the hell off my blog

no but fr i'm so sorry to all the toby girlies this really is a big RIP from me

[stevensaus]

Neurospicy Movie Triple Feature: Asteroid City, No Hard Feelings, And Corner Office

Spoilers for Asteroid City, No Hard Feelings, and Corner Office. I'd already realized the difference between The Big Bang Theory and Community by the time this scene aired: In the midst of an episode, Dean Pelton turns to Abed, who is a character clearly coded as neurodivergent. "Abed, you're ... special," the Dean says. Can't you just stand at the scene of the crime and see what happened?" Abed replies: "I see a man. Using a social disorder as a procedural device. Wait, wait, wait. Mildly autistic super detectives everywhere. Basic cable. Broadcast networks. Pain. Painful writing. It hurts." That was well before I realized that I was at least partially under that umbrella. And it seems like recent movies sure don't want me to forget it. {1} When I told a friend that I'd recently seen Wes Anderson's Asteroid City, he nearly turned up his nose. "I don't like Anderson. I don't get the whimsy." I replied. "I don't think it's whimsical at all. I think it might be neurodivergent." I've since seen a few other folks -- sadly, I lost the links -- comment on this as well. The plot of Asteroid City -- barring one fantastical incident -- is a bog-standard 20th century American "literary" story. Aside from Anderson's distinctive cinematography, the element that makes these films "whimsical" is that everyone says what they are thinking, directly, out loud, in near-monotones. Instead of a flirting wink and half smile, a character might say: "I suddenly find you attractive and would like to take you home tonight." The target of their affections might respond: "I am feeling the pang of loneliness, and hope to find some distraction from my own mortality in the pleasures of the flesh. I accept." Look at the trailer for Asteroid City or The Grand Budapest Hotel. The stylized behavior is demonstrated in both. If you're thinking something like "that sounds a lot like looking at the world through a kind of neurospicy lens," I'm right there with you. But twisting a familiar shape of story through that lens before it gets to me ... well, it's not whimsical. While there are benevolent violations left and right, they do not feel funny to me... just matter of fact. As a result, while I do appreciate the cinematography and style, I really don't know whether or not I enjoyed Asteroid City, or even if I experienced anything like Anderson intended. I stand by what I said about No Hard Feelings, but I want to expand on the footnote I put at the end. Andrew Barth Feldman’s character in No Hard Feelings — who sure came across coded neurospicy to me — adapts pretty suspiciously quickly to being out of his comfort zone in the final third. But I’ll forgive the film that due to the fact that it also does not demand that his character change and conform to "normal" society either. One of the clever things about this film is how it seems to steer right into some really problematic waters, but then quickly end up going in a direction I wasn't expecting. Feldman's character is one of them, a clearly neurospicy kid (and family) who is coaxed into being more "social" by the local hottie. Except that isn't what happens in the film. Lawrence's character might have been the hottie, but she's feeling age, hard living, and the weight of the past. Feldman's likewise sidesteps most -- not all -- of the easy jokes at the expense of the "weird kid." Instead of the tropes of either being rejected or conforming, the characters of both Feldman and Lawrence (who turns in an amazing performance) strike out to make their own ways, on their own terms. They must interact with the world, yes, but they are not defined by other's expectations of them, nor are they willing to put aside their own needs and desires for another's convenience. While Feldman's depiction of neurodivergence plays strongly into the stereotypical autistic traits that used to be called "Asperger's," and the character becomes more social suspiciously quick, I found his portrayal and the script both strongly empathic toward neurodivergence while still acknowledging how silly things can get sometimes. The trailer is NSFW. Which brings us to Corner Office. The film was adapted from The Room by Jonas Karlsson, which we'll come back to in a second. Rob Hamm's character is our neurospicy protagonist, again leaning fairly heavily into the stereotypical traits that keep getting portrayed as the only traits. The plot is fairly simple: Hamm's character arrives at a new job, and works to integrate himself with the strange new office culture. And then he discovers a room, a nicely appointed but unused office that only he can see or experience. But when he's in that office, suddenly everything seems to just work ... better. He's more efficient. His analyses and reports improve dramatically. Still, to everyone else, there is no door to the office, just a blank wall. When Hamm's character is in the office, all that anyone else can see is that he's standing and staring at the wall, practically unresponsive. At one level, it's pretty bog-standard magical realism. At another level, it's an elaborate metaphor for being neurospicy and working in modern office culture alongside allistics. Hamm's character is constantly trying to figure out what everyone else is thinking or doing -- and not-infrequently, getting it wrong. He is bothered by sensory stimuli. He knows that he has skills, and wants to use them. He is not particularly interested in power for power's sake. Arbitrary rules that make no sense are rationalized away. And when things get to be too much, he enjoys being able to get away to a serene place without the buzzing fluorescents and drop ceilings. There, he can collect his thoughts. He is more productive. He feels better after spending some time in this secret office, even if his actions look incomprehensible to the others in the office. Yeah, it's a metaphor for stimming, meltdowns, and shutdowns. It was very uncomfortable for me to watch. Hamm's character -- or at least his inner monologue -- is entirely too close to my own thoughts in the past. I recently saw a TikTok explaining part of why a lot of autistic folx have problems with employment. This is frighteningly close to my own experiences at a prior employer. While that TikTok explains in words what is going on, Corner Office ends up evoking what it felt like. That made the book review of The Room (the book Corner Office came from) all the more disturbing -- and makes the experience of Corner Office all the more necessary. Utterly convinced of his own superiority, is a know-it-all, entirely lacking in self-knowledge: he is the office weirdo, the outsider. “I worked out a personal strategic framework. I arrived half an hour early each morning and followed my own timetable for the day: fifty-five minutes of concentrated work, then a five-minute break. Including toilet breaks. I avoided any unnecessary socialising along the way.” -- Ian Sansom in The Guardian The disdain and derision is palpable. As Mad In America put it back in 2021 (linking to papers in Nature and The Journal of Autism and Developmental Disorders: Allistic peers are less likely to interact with autistic people because of immediate and unconscious negative judgments that are based purely on social communication style, and not substance. Autistic people are also often perceived by neurotypicals as deceptive or lacking credibility. After watching Corner Office, Sansom's critique feels as though it is a critique of a neurodivergent protagonist who simply is getting through a strange and confusing environment as best he can. Perhaps the allistics will find Corner Office "whimsical." I hope not. To me, it is a claustrophobic exploration of what it feels like to be neurodivergent and working in the allistic world. I hope that rather than being held up as another Sheldon to mock and belittle, Hamm's portrayal will help some grok what it's like for us. {1} I'm still on that journey, figuring out what labels and terms are useful and which ones should be discarded. So -- along with the truism that if you've met one neurospicy person, you've met one neurospicy person -- these impressions are wholly mine and shouldn't be mistaken as if I'm speaking for any neurodivergent community. Read the full article

[mighty-mitte]

Tent life had served her decently well, over the years. She missed it, but stealing a tent high quality enough to keep the sun entirely at bay would probably not be an easy ask, if such a thing even existed. Maybe she could borrow Kristoff's phone for a bit and look it up. "I live in an apartment now, if you have any suggestions for dealing with the noise neighbours make."

Mitte shrugged, not having put too much stock in the idea-- generally the troubles of the town were low on her list of concerns, given how simple it was to pick up and leave. Probably not a fantastic idea, but doable. "Things in Swynlake are rarely coincidence." She advised anyway, "but y'know, you brought up the Blackwells. Not so long ago I'd bet the vampire populace outweighed the wolves." There had been Anthony too, obviously, and the siblings-- Mitte felt bad, she'd sort of done her best to burn their names out of her head, not wanting to get too bogged down in wondering what had become of them.

"I slept with one of them once, and I've had better." Mitte recalled on a snort of laughter, carrying on before her new friend could get too alarmed, "before he was a wolf, you know, obviously." Although if anyone could push past base instincts to bed a hottie... "No. None of them have given me any trouble. Safe haven, hm? Co-existing is the name of the game."

@belladonna-wright

Daughters of the Night - Missie

[monaisme]

One Week Later - Chapter 5

This is the sequel to my one-shot, “The Battle”

Mrs. Stark was seated on the couch, her back to Peter as she spoke affectionately to someone on her phone. She was obviously preoccupied and missed his quietly entering the room, as she continued talking. “I know you want to see me, sweetheart, and I miss you, too—so desperately, but things are a little crazy right now.” A pause. “I know that I promised you a special date just the two of us, but I can’t get away from the city until things are settled and you know this.” Another pause. “Morgan, please—“

In his haze, Peter registered the name, Morgan, and almost wondered who he was? The lethargy that had washed over him weighted him where he stood and he almost felt like he was supposed to react to Mrs. Stark’s words, be curious at least? But he could barely...

FRIDAY interrupted the moment. “Apologies for the interruption, Mrs. Boss, but Boss is on his way up.”

Mrs. Stark called out a quick, “Thank you, FRIDAY,” then came back to her call. She muttered a tender, “I’ve gotta go. I love you, baby,” and hung up the phone. She stood up from the couch and gasped, her hand flying to her chest as she noticed Peter for the first time. “Oh! Peter! How long have you been standing there?” Her cheeks flushed pink as she hid her phone behind her guiltily.

He heard her question, shrugged in reply, and looked down at the floor as he tried to process that he couldn’t process what was happening in that moment. The almost indifference was giving way to discomfort as his brain tried to filter out the garbage bogging him down. “Um, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to interrupt... it seemed important?”

She looked uncomfortable, at least to Peter, but he really wasn’t sure of anything in that moment. “Peter, I should explain—“ She gestured to her phone she’d brought forward, but her words were cut off when the elevator doors in the penthouse foyer opened and footsteps echoed on the marble floor.

Mr. Stark entered the living room and grinned big. “Ah, my beautiful family! Exactly the people I wanted to see!” he announced. “I have news from the med bay!”

That tweaked something more in Peter, and his attention was diverted away from Mrs. Stark and the mystery Morgan to his mentor. “I can see May?” he asked quietly.

Mr. Stark nodded emphatically. “You bet you can, kid.” He laughed at something to himself then continued. “She was asleep when I got there so I had a chance to talk to the doc in person for an update. He was just getting around to telling me that we couldn’t come around today when May woke up.” Mr. Stark laughed a little harder. “Needless to say, you are definitely seeing her today.”

Peter felt what must have been the first spark of a real smile in ages. “Really?”

Mr. Stark took a step closer to the boy, then put a firm hand on his shoulder. “Of course, buddy. We’re just gonna give the nurses a chance to help her put on her game face and as soon as she’s ready, they’ll call, but for now...”  

Peter’s shoulders sagged under the weight of Mr. Stark’s hand as he realized, “Now we wait.”

Mr. Stark gave an oddly grounding squeeze and pulled Peter into a firm hug. “Yeah, bud. Now we wait... but she’s as eager as you, so it won’t be too long, I’m sure of it.”

Peter shivered as he pressed further into Mr. Stark’s chest. The haze of the last little while was lifting and he felt a little unsteady so he closed his eyes and breathed in as he clung to the one thing in his life that seemed to have changed the least.

“Hey, sweetheart, not going to hassle you, but did the shower help?” Mr. Stark whispered into his hair. “Are you feeling a little better now?”

He nodded a yes, choosing to ignore whatever it was that was going on with Mrs. Stark in order to address his previous outburst. “I’m so sorry about that, Mr. Stark. I’ll fix the wall. I promise.” He pulled back and shifted to peek around Mr. Stark to Mrs. Stark but refusing to let go. “And I’m sorry if I scared you earlier, Mrs. Stark. It won’t happen again. I swear... I don’t even...” He tried to explain that he wasn’t like that, that he didn’t know where the anger had come from—well, he did, but that didn’t mean he was allowed to show it— He huffed in frustration as he struggled to find the right words.

Mrs. Stark stepped closer, smiled softly, and stopped Peter’s apology before he could completely short circuit. “I know, Peter, and it really is alright. I know that you’d never hurt me, I was just surprised, is all. Thank you for the apology, though. I appreciate it... and don’t worry about the wall, please. It should be fixed by the end of the day.”

Peter felt his cheeks pink with embarrassment and he ducked back into the safety of Mr. Stark’s arms. “Thank you... and I’m still sorry.”

Mr. Stark gave him an extra squeeze in acknowledgement then said nothing more.

It was a few seconds later when Peter could sense movement behind Mr. Stark—then his humming and shaking his head in response to whatever it was that Mrs. Stark was apparently silently communicating to him.

“Pete?” Mrs. Stark spoke up. “We need to talk to you about—”

“Boss, Mrs. Parker is requesting Mr. Parker’s presence in the med bay.” FRIDAY alerted the room. “She has asked me to play back her request directly. She says, ‘Tony, if you make me wait a second longer than I have to to see my kid, I’m gonna tell Pepper about that time you—‘” FRIDAY cut off the recording. “Apologies for the disruption in playback, while you can gauge the seriousness of her request, per your ’Admit Nothing’ protocol, I have determined it is not in your best interest to play the entire recording, sir.”  

Mr. Stark snort laughed, “Thanks, FRI, you’re a gem,” he replied and hugged Peter tight one last time before letting him go. “Well, kid. You heard the AI! Aunt May is waiting!” Mr. Stark led him to the elevator.

Peter didn’t hesitate to follow and made it half way across the room when—

“Peter, can you wait a moment, please!” Mrs. Stark called out.

Peter cringed at the delay, but turned around to face her. “Um, okay?”

“Peter, I... we,” she glanced toward Mr. Stark, “We still need to talk to you about a couple of things—“

Peter was fighting down the impatience, and Mr. Stark must have seen it. He cut her off. “Pep. We can talk about this later on, can’t we? He’s been waiting a week and May will kill me literally dead if he’s not there soon.”

She looked flustered, and Peter almost cared, but she’d been hiding something earlier, now that Peter’s brain was firing back up he was sure of it—and he couldn’t make himself worry about it anymore, especially when he needed to get to May.

She paused, seemed to consider, and then, “Fine. But can we please make the time to talk about things later? Maybe over lunch?”

Peter was making no plans beyond the med bay, but he knew that wouldn’t fly so he agreed. “Yeah, sure. Lunch.” He looked between the two. “Can I go now?”

Mrs. Stark looked at her husband, who stared back goofily at her. She smiled, then he smiled, and like that, Mr. Stark was on the move with him again.

And then Peter wasn’t so sure he wanted the company anymore. “Mr. Stark, would it be okay if I went alone?”

“Are you sure you’re up for that? I mean, I know you’d be okay if you do go alone, but there could be a lot going on in that room that you may have questions about and I don’t want you to get overwhelmed.” Mr. Stark was concerned and had no issue with voicing it. “I don’t have to stay for long, just until I know you’re comfortable, and—“

“And I appreciate that. I do. It’s just...” Peter wasn’t sure he could find the words to convey how badly he needed it to be just them. “Please?”

Peter could see Mr. Stark struggling with it. There was no good reason that Peter could think of for Mr. Stark to let him go alone except that he wanted it. And the man was right. He was already anxious and he hadn’t even made it to the elevator yet. Peter was about to give up on the request altogether when Mr. Stark broke into his thoughts.

“Fine, you can go alone, but you have FRI call me if you change your mind, okay? I’ll be there in two minutes. No questions. No judgement.”

“Really?” Peter asked.

“Yes, and we expect to see you back here for lunch when she gets tired of you, alright?” Mr. Stark teased.

“Yessir.”

Mr. Stark glared.

“Yes, Mr. Stark.”

“Alright then, you heathen, begone.” Mr. Stark pointed toward the elevator with a wink. “Don’t make me regret this. And you’d better tell Aunt Hottie that you’re kiss and grounding were both delivered as requested, got it? I told her but I don’t think she believes me.”

“I will.” Peter promised and then waited only a few seconds for the elevator doors to open and finally make his way down to the med bay. He focussed on the next while and how this reunion would go. Aunt May was going to be so happy to see him, he thought. It had been the two of them for so long, and he wished that she hadn’t had to go through all these years without him. But he was back now and things would get better. They had to, right? As the elevator descended, though, his thoughts started to twist. What if it wasn’t better? He knew logically that things were different now-- for him it had been a week and five years and forever and no time at all and all Peter knew was that he didn’t need to say a word to her; only wanted to curl up beside his favourite Aunt and never leave her again.

And she was sick.

The elevator doors opened and Peter froze.

Maybe he’d made a mistake?

“Mr. Parker, we have arrived at the med bay floor.” FRIDAY said.

Peter didn’t move, but he could feel himself getting worked up.

And so could FRIDAY. “Mr. Parker. While still within normal parameters, your breathing, pulse, and heart rate are elevating rapidly. Might I suggest a few deep breaths in order to regulate them?”

Peter still didn’t move... couldn’t move.

“Very well, initiating ‘Meltdown Management Mode’ now.”

The elevator doors closed and for a second Peter thought that the AI would return him to the penthouse and he’d lose his chance to see Aunt May, and his breathing picked up more. He gasped out a “no!”

The elevator stayed where it was, but its lights softened and the canned muzak that had played in the background was replaced by soothing ocean sounds. “Don’t be alarmed, Mr. Parker. Please try to match your breaths to the count, Mr. Parker.” FRIDAY instructed softly. “Breathe in, 2, 3, 4, and out 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6.”    

It took a couple of cycles, but eventually Peter picked up the rhythm and within a few minutes, Peter was feeling a little more like himself. “Um, thanks, FRIDAY,” Peter called out to the AI. “That was... unexpected.” And he didn’t know if he was talking about the freak out or the assist.

“Yes,” FRIDAY interrupted. “Due to the random nature of anxiety and panic attacks, Boss has found the protocol to be quite useful over the last five years. He will be glad to know that it has been of use to someone else.”

The thought of Mr. Stark knowing he’d freaked out AGAIN was not okay. That he couldn’t manage to make his way down a few floors without breaking down? “Yeah, um, FRIDAY, do you think you could not tell Mr. Stark about this? I mean, I’m fine, right?”

The elevator fell silent for a brief moment then, “When this protocol was first initiated, Boss required that Mrs. Boss was notified each time it was initiated. There is no specific protocol requirement for you, Mr. Parker. You’re vitals are indicating that you are still experiencing some stress, but they are steady and within normal parameters. I see no reason to report this at this time, but if Boss asks, I will be required to inform him.”

Peter could have slumped with relief... or exhaustion. The constant ups and downs were messing him up big time, and he hated it, but at least he’d remembered his manners. “Thank you, FRIDAY.

“You are welcome, Mr. Parker. Are you ready for me to open the elevator doors now?”

Peter steeled himself and then answered, “Please?”

“Of course,” the AI replied. “Enjoy your visit with Mrs. Parker.”

The doors slid open and Peter stepped out into the waiting room of what was his second home—well, third. First was May’s, then the penthouse with Mr. Stark, and then...

“Peter?”

He turned towards the familiar voice, smiling as he saw one of his favourite nurses walking towards him, “Lydie?” Her hair was cut shorter than he’d remembered it and was dyed a vibrant red. Definitely different, but still definitely her, thank goodness.

“Peter, you haven’t aged a day! Get over here!” She enveloped him in one of those awesome hugs she’d give him when he’d wake up from a nightmare in the middle of the night after he’d finally convinced May or Mr. Stark to finally go and get some sleep in their own beds. “I missed you so much!”

And Peter had exactly zero idea of what to say back. ‘You, too,’ wasn’t true. In his reality, he’d seen her two weeks ago when a he’d been triple-teamed by a trio of wanna-be ninja muggers with zero throwing star skills and just enough luck to land a star smack in the back at his shoulder blade. He mumbled a “Thanks,” and pulled away.  

He’d hoped she’d realize his discomfort, but Lydie was always one to talk and it seemed like this time was no different. She pointed down a hallway Peter didn’t think he’d ever been down before and started walking. “I know you’re here to see May so let me catch you up while I take you to her—so...”

Apparently it only took the length of a long hallway to find out about the life and times of all those who had been left behind. Peter tried to focus, but the moment Lydie had mentioned May again, his stomach had knotted and he did everything he could to use FRIDAY’s breathing techniques without being too obvious.

“...and here we go.” Lydie stopped walking and pointed into the closed door to the left. “Before you go in, though, we’re just gonna gown you up, okay?”

“What?”

She brought Peter over to a station stocked with gloves, gowns, caps, and masks. “Yeah, we want to be sure that we don’t bring any uninvited germs into the room with us while she’s already fighting this infection—or carry any out, for that matter.”

Peter almost recoiled. “I could make her more sick?” He hadn’t even thought about that and suddenly worried that his shower hadn’t been enough.

“Don’t be silly, Peter.” She chided him. “We’re only doing this as a precaution and I know how anxious May is to see you, so let’s go. Chop, chop.”

Peter got to it right away and tried not to feel ridiculous in his new oversized get up even as Lydie looked almost identical.

Lydie’s eyes smiled at him encouragingly. “Alright, are you ready?”

He didn’t answer, but she wasn’t waiting for him to as she pushed the door open and grabbed his arm to drag him inside with her.

“May, I hope you’re decent. You’ve got a gentleman caller here!” Lydie sang out softly as she peeked through the curtains surrounding her bed.

Peter heard the rustling of sheets and a groggy, “Wha—Lydie?”

Lydie glanced back at him, gestured for him to wait and ducked behind the curtain. “May?” Lydie whispered, quiet enough that it was only because of Peter’s enhanced hearing that he could make out the words. “May, can you wake up a little more? You dozed off on me.”

“Oh?” The sheets rustled some more. “Oh, no,” she gasped. “I didn’t mean to— is he gone? Did I miss him?“

A monitor beeped in warning.

“Shh, shh, shh. May, it’s okay. Take a deep breath. It’s fine. He’s waiting for the all clear before he comes in. I know he’s fallen asleep on you plenty of times so don’t sweat it.” Lydie really was the best.

Another beep, this one a press of something on a machine.

And then the sound of stifling tears.

“May, honey, oh. No-no-no, don’t do that, May. He’s back now.” Lydie comforted her, not bothering to lower her voice. “Peter’s just on the other side of the curtain and he thinks he’s hiding it, but he’s nervous, too.” Peter heard Lydie pull a tissue from a box and pass it to May.

May sniffed, then blew her nose and squeaked out, “Peter’s really here?”

“You know I wouldn’t lie to you, May, and he’s probably wondering what’s taking you so long.”

“Yeah.” May took a deep breath and then another. Peter could hear her and Lydie doing a last minute straighten up. “Okay.” May whispered. “How do I look?”

“Like a million bucks.” Lydie reassured her. “Now, can I open these curtains before he loses his mind?”

May must have nodded because the curtain was slowly dragged back to reveal the most important person in Peter’s universe, propped up in the bed and fussing with the long braid trailing down the front of her hospital gown.

And Peter stood there frozen, mere feet away from her bed, his mouth opening and closing like a fish behind the mask. “May?” The woman in front of him looked like a weak imitation of the woman he’d left only a week ago to head to school and that stupid MOMA field trip. The yellowed, swollen face and hands screamed sickness, punctuated by the heavy scent of medicated creams, antiseptic, and blood. They’d at least made an effort to disguise the various machines surrounding her, but the curtains and draped blankets couldn’t camouflage the nasal cannula—and the delicately flowered robe she wore over the medbay gown did little to hide the tubing still connected to her IV or the dialysis machine Peter guessed she’d been hooked up to since that call in Wakanda that morning. His stomach turned at the sight of it all so he concentrated again on her face. There, he could see the flush of fever in her cheeks and a glassiness in her eyes. She looked exhausted.

He didn’t know what to do.  

She looked just as stunned as Peter, though for completely different reasons. “Peter?” May stared at the boy and then scowled at Lydie. “I swear, Lydie, on the soul of my dead mother. If you don’t get all that shit off my kid so I can see him for real, I will make sure that you never find that stupid blush nail polish you swear by again—and I know people so I can make it happen.”

Lydie threw her hands up in apology. “May, you know that I can’t. Dr. Bonwick has orders—“

“I don’t care, Lydie.” she huffed. “I’ve waited too long to see that face.” May turned her attention back to Peter. “You heard me,” she pointed to his medical gear with a look of distaste. “All of that garbage off, now.”

He wanted to listen to her, honest, but she was sick and the reality of it had smacked him in the face. There was no way he’d risk—

“Peter.” Peter recognized the tone anywhere. It was the same tone that made sure his homework got done before patrol, that his bedroom was cleaned before heading to Ned’s, and that got wet towels off the bathroom floor and an apple in his hand before he ran out the door to school. Yeah. Peter knew better than to dawdle. The fabric gown and its accessories were in a laundry bin in the corner of the room in half a minute and he stood ready for inspection.  

May beamed with joy as she gazed upon him. “There’s my Peter,” she exclaimed. “Now get your ass over here and give me a hug before I lose my mind, you goofball.”

Peter rushed up to the bed, hesitating when he reached the railing of the bed. “Uh... what should I—“

Lydie, who’d tucked herself inconspicuously away to work in the corner of the room, came forward to help. “C’mon, Peter, you know as well as anyone how these beds work.” She teased as she did her nurse magic, lowering the railing.

“I know how the bed works,” he insisted as he tried to ignore the fear that one wrong move would hurt her. “I’m trying to be careful, is all.”

May was having none of that. “You couldn’t hurt me if you tried, sweetheart.” She leaned forward and opened her arms, now seriously. “Please?”

Peter was in her arms in a blink, fighting back tears as May finally gave in to hers. Neither of them said a word as they revelled in their reunion. Only a week and five years- five years- She’d waited for him for so long.

Peter whispered, “I didn’t mean to go, May, I swear,” as he burrowed into her.

She buried her face in his hair and tried to breathe in the scent of him, like she'd done his whole life. "I know, baby. I know." May reassured him. She shifted slightly, started pushing the pillows supporting her aside.

Peter panicked. "Oh! I'm hurting you! I'm so sorry!"  He pulled back and away, "I'm gonna—"

May grabbed his hand. "No, Peter. You're not hurting me at all. I just need to move- these- damn- pillows." She ground out the words while she tried to readjust.

"I can do it!" Peter declared, jostling the pillows about. “I’ll just—“ He shifted the pillows Aunt May, just a little, but the ones behind her seemed determined to keep her from completely relaxing, if he was reading her body language right. “Maybe if I—“ He slipped off the bed and started looking for the controls to set the bed at a better angle.

Lydie stepped in again, “Peter, here. Let me help—“

“No!” He replied loudly, surprising everyone in the room. He pressed on, moving May’s blankets in his hunt. “I’ve got this. I’m just gonna adjust the bed and make sure that May’s comfortable.”

“I know, Peter, but if I help—“

“Look, Lydie, I’ve got this, okay?” Not finding the controls, he moved around to the other side of the bed. “It’s the least I can do after all this time, right?” He tried to laugh at the little dig but sounded more like he was choking. They had to think he was losing his mind.

“Peter.” May called to him. “Come on. You’re fuss-farting around for a bed controller.” She patted the empty space beside her. “Let’s do a snuggle party like when you were little instead.” She held out her arms in welcome again and that was all Peter needed.

He clamoured up onto the bed again and tried to squeeze in beside her as she shifted to give him room, just like she’d asked.

Lydie watched the exchange sadly and smiled, “I’m going to give you two some time,” and exited the room. Peter was sure she hadn’t gone far.

“I remember you being smaller, buster.” She teased.

Peter rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Are moms obligated to say cheesy stuff like that? Like, is it in the secret mom rulebook?”

“Now, Peter,” she grinned slyly as she looked down at him. “You know if I told you, I’d have to kill you—now, c’mon.” She eased herself a little further to one side of the bed and sighed in brief relief as she settled. “Get closer.”

He did try. Oh, how he wanted to be held in her arms and have her tell him everything was going to be okay, but gentle teasing couldn’t hide the limitations of the IV tube he’d interrupt if he laid this way—or the access site on her other side if he shifted that way.

May giggled through a new round of tears as they struggled to find a hold that wouldn’t cause her harm. “Wow, if we ever thought we could ignore the elephant in the room, huh?”  

Peter stopped his wiggling. “May, don’t... I... I... ” He couldn’t speak so he sat himself up, twisting and turning away from her. He buried his face in his hands and started to tremble.

He was going to lose her.

He could feel her pulling herself up, trying to get closer to him. Peter jumped off the bed. “No! You need to lie down, May. Please.” He pressed her gently back into her pillow pile. “I’m gonna grab a chair, okay?”

“Peter, stop it. Get back up here,” she ordered, watching him work his way up to another freak out.

But he couldn’t... he just couldn’t.

Instead, Peter grabbed the straight backed chair rested against the wall and, in a flash, seated himself at her bedside. “Nah, I need you comfortable, May...” He grinned big and insincere, “And you know I’m a bed hog. Really! This is probably way better for you.” He focussed on his hands as they twisted at her blankets. “Just until you feel a little better, please?”

She didn’t bother to hide as her frustration shifted to concern. “Peter, please. I know this is strange,” She reached out to grab his hands, stopping him. “But we’re gonna get through this. Okay?”

Peter slid his hands out from under hers, then gently laid his on hers, but could say nothing. A part of him had thought that maybe... just maybe Mr. Stark had been overstating things so that Peter would find relief at things not being so bad. But Mr. Stark would never have done something like that. Peter had just been wrong. His vacillating between hope and impending doom stopped exactly then.

He knew all about Parker Luck, after all.

He gave May’s hands a squeeze, kissed them, then pulled away. He could feel the greasiness of lotion against his lips, and forced himself to ignore it. “You should lie down, May. I don’t want you to get more tired because of me.”

“Peter. I’ll worry about me, alright?” May lightly scolded. “But I’m also gonna worry about you, got it.” She cupped his cheek and tried to catch his eye. “We’ll need to talk about this eventually, sweetheart.”

He closed his eyes and prayed for strength, “I know...” he choked out. “But can it not be now?”

May didn’t say anything for a moment before agreeing. “Alright... but soon? Hiding your head in the sand does nothing but leave your butt exposed for that big kick in the pants you’re trying to avoid, and you know it.”

Peter nodded. He didn’t have a choice.

The last two Parkers clasped hands again and sat silent for a moment; May savoured his presence while Peter mourned hers.

Five damned years. Peter’s thoughts turned to Titan and failed attempts and how if he’d only gotten the gauntlet.

A series of beeps sounded from one of the hidden machine, startling the two from their thoughts.

“Holy crap!” Peter jumped as he threw his hand to his chest, knocking over his chair in the process. “What’s wrong?” He scanned his aunt, not seeing why the alarm was suddenly going off. “Did I do something?”

“Calm down, Peter. That means my dialysis is done for today.” She reached for his hand. “It alerts whoever’s on shift that they can unhook me.”

Lydie entered the room again without a word and pulled a blanket off the machine closest to the bed.

Peter looked away.

“I’ll be quick, folks, then a quick check up and I’ll be out of your hair.” Lydie promised as she pressed a button to silence the alarm.

May didn’t pretend to be anything other than irritated. “Lydie, can we just do it later? Peter’s here and I don’t want to—“

Lydie raised her hand her hand to stop her. “Nuh-uh. I’ve already broken one rule for you today. If you think I’m not following another protocol, you’ve got another thing coming to you.” She glanced over to the young superhero. “Sorry, Peter.”

He just shrugged and moved his chair back towards the wall. “No worries. I’ll just stay out of the way.” Yeah, even he knew better to fight with the nurses in Avengers Tower.

Lydie chuckled, “I wish you were that cooperative when you were a patient here, Peter.”

May outright cracked up at that. “You tell him, Lydie.”

“Yeah, yeah, yuk it up. I am a stellar patient.” Peter pouted, “You’re both so mean to me.”

The laughter died down as Lydie disconnected things and went about doing what should have been a cursory check. The cuff of the blood pressure monitor has inflated, May had flinched at its tightness, and Peter had sympathized. Lydie had pulled the stethoscope from around her neck, preparing for the next check when the alarm went off.

“May?” Lydie questioned suspiciously. “What’s going on?”

May looked from Lydie to Peter, then back to Lydie. “Nothing. You know that the machine is too sensitive.  Let the cuff do its torture again,” she pressed. “It’s probably because I was laughing is all.”

Lydie wasn’t buying it, “Peter, would you be a dear and step into the hallway, please.”

Yeah, Peter knew that tone, too. It was the old ‘the medical professionals need to discuss things that aren’t any of your business’ tone. He was out of the chair and into the hallway in a shot.

It wasn’t like he’d be missing anything, anyways.

“Okay, May, ‘fess up. What’s going on?” Lydie whispered.

Had they really forgotten that it didn’t work?

Peter could hear a button being pressed, maybe an aural thermometer, then May’s reply. “My pain medication,” she whispered back. “I should have thought to say something before he got here, but then I fell asleep and I couldn’t let Peter know—“

“How bad?”

May exhaled slowly, “Bad enough that it set off that stupid machine.”

A quiet beep sounded.

“Aw, shit. May!” Lydie hissed. “You’re fever’s up, too! You know better than to not say something about that!”

Peter could hear Lydie’s movements around the room, a drawer opening, vials being shuffled about—“I’m going to get your pain meds and some fever reducers on board, then I’ll call Dr. Bonwick.”

“No.” May blurted out, desperate. “You know it’ll put me to sleep. Just wait until Peter’s visit is over, an hour? Please? Can I have just an hour with him?”  

“No negotiations, May.” They were done with trying to be secretive. “We’re already pushing our luck because of the delay with the dialysis... and Peter’s a smart kid. You know he’ll understand.”

Peter could hear the quiver in her voice again. “I don’t want him to understand! I want him here!” May moaned, giving in to her pain and exhaustion. “I want five years with him, and I want stepping on legos, and sleepovers with his friends, and... and I wanted him to be a man before he had to deal with—oh.” May couldn’t speak, and so she wept.

And Peter’s heart broke again—how many more times would he feel it splinter before it finally stopped.

Lydie tried to comfort May, even as she went about her job with a haste that made Peter realize his coming had been a mistake. She’d been hurting. She suffered because of him—for five years, she had suffered because of him.

It took a few minutes, but May’s cried eventually softened, then levelled to a nice even breathing. She’d fallen asleep. Lydie popped out of the room, took one look at him, and knew. “You heard?”

Peter nodded.

She stepped into the hallway completely, approaching him like a wild animal. “I gave her something to calm her, but with the fever and all...”

“She’s asleep, I know.”

“Good.” She looked over her shoulder into the room, and then addressed Peter. “She’ll sleep for a while now, which is good.” Lydie assured him. “I’m going to call Dr. Bonwick and get her started on her new meds. If everything goes as well as we hope, she’ll be ready for visitors tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.”

Lydie stared at him for a second and forever. “May mentioned that Mr. Stark had filled you in on some things. Do you have any questions for me? May’s given me permission to give you the basics.”

Peter stuffed his hands in his pockets, hunching his shoulders as he fought the urge to ask one of the so many questions he didn’t want answers to. “No. I’m good.”  

The look on her face told Peter that she didn’t believe him.

“Are you alright?” She asked, sympathy pouring off of her. “That visit had to be hard for you, too.”

Peter shook his head in the negative, “I’ll be fine.” Peter assured her. He always was, after all. “You just worry about Aunt May... please.” He tried to be casual about it, but the tears welling up were a dead giveaway.

Lydie stepped closer. “Peter, you’re allowed to be upset, too. I’m sure that Mr. Stark can find someone that can—“

An alarm blared in May’s room, loud and urgent. Lydie stopped talking and rushed back into the room, turning the alarm off and double checking what she thought was the culprit. “A-ha!” She called out as she reattached the oximeter to May’s finger. She watched the numbers jump back up from 0% to a not amazing but could be worse percentage. “There you go, May.” She squeezed the sleeping woman’s hand in support then went back into the hallway. “I’m so sorry about that, Peter, she shifted and knocked... off... her... Peter?” She looked down the empty corridor then rushed down it towards the elevator. She noted the floor numbers descending on the display. “Oh, shit.”

* * * * * *

“Mr. Parker, would you like me to initiate ‘Meltdown Management Mode’ again?” FRIDAY inquired.

May was dying, if she wasn’t already dead. He’d pushed her too much. She was too weak and in pain and then the alarm had gone off and he knew—

Peter said nothing, just stared at the numbers on the panel as the elevator descended. He couldn’t be there anymore. He couldn’t be there when she wasn’t—

May was dead, and Peter was alone.

“Mr. Parker, you are again displaying signs of distress, and failure to respond will require me to contact Boss and update him on your condition.”

Peter blinked as he registered the unintended threat. “I’m fine, thank you. I just need some air,” he rasped out.

“Yes, fresh air and exercise are both optimal solutions for mental distress. Boss has programmed me to provide him positive reinforcement when he takes the initiative on his own to remedy his anxiety. Would you like me to tell you ‘good job,’ Mr. Parker?”

“No, thanks.”

Peter felt a slight shift in speed, then the elevator came to a halt.

“It is currently an overcast 58°F, Mr. Parker. Enjoy the fresh air.” The elevator doors opened, revealing the Avengers Tower lobby bustling with activity. “Mr. Parker, should Boss inquire, what time will you be returning home?”

Home? May was dead and Peter was alone.

Peter chuckled darkly. “I don’t have a home anymore, FRIDAY,” he replied, and pushed his way through the masses of people, out the front doors of the tower, and into the chaos of a world struggling with unexpected rebirth.  

[homeformyheart]

#3 and #22 for all your Buttons and Nora :) (for the OC asks :) )

ahhhh bless you PD for asking about Nora & my buttons :) really making me push forward on developing them (these will be established relationship/deep romance, except for Nora, it’ll probably still be early in the established relationship).

Answers under the cut!

Jasmine Rose Wiseman (Kent)

3. Ask them to describe their love interest.

“Come on, Kent is an absolute hottie. I mean, just look at him! He could totally get anyone he wanted,” Jasmine muses, a wide grin and sparkling eyes indicating she finds the humor in the comparison rather than any expected insecurity.

“He has a kind heart, though - that’s what drew me to him. He might seem indifferent, but he really does care about things being fair and treating animals with love. And I definitely adore his dorky side - but don’t tell him I said that!”

22. Do they like being called pet names? Do they call other people pet names? What’s their go-to?

Jasmine loves pet names, especially relationship-specific ones. She gets disappointed when Kent doesn’t reciprocate as easily, but she wears him down over time. She’ll study up on Greek mythology to better come up with relevant nicknames that’ll bring out the adorable reactions from Kent that she loves.

Ivy Park Wiseman (Ambrose)

3. Ask them to describe their love interest.

Ivy tenses, clasping her hands in her lap to keep from fidgeting. She’s well aware of how her relationship with Ambrose looks to those who don’t know them - and most don’t.

“With Ambrose, I am finally whole,” she says, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “I can finally accept who I am. And it doesn’t have anything to do with being a Wiseman.”

22. Do they like being called pet names? Do they call other people pet names? What’s their go-to?

Her name doesn’t really lend itself to nicknames, but she absolutely hates it when people call her “Wiseman” - she views the name as “borrowed” because she’s adopted and doesn’t really identify with it. She will tease and put people in their place if they annoy her, and she’ll gladly use pet names or nicknames to do that.

Privately, her and Ambrose exchange Korean terms of endearment as their pet names for each other. Once they start dating, she’ll never refer to Ambrose as “Rosy” since she knows he hates it.

Violet Wiseman (Gray)

3. Ask them to describe their love interest.

Violet blushes and twirls a loose lock of hair around her finger in thought. “Gray is more than just a partner to me, he’s also my best friend,” she starts softly, biting her lip hesitantly. “He makes me stronger and I’ve come a long way from the insecurities that used to bog me down.”

22. Do they like being called pet names? Do they call other people pet names? What’s their go-to?

They don’t call other pet names, but she’ll pick up on Gray calling her “love” once they’re in the deep romance stage of the relationship. She absolutely adores any and all pet names that Gray might call her and she doesn’t mind Nick’s so much since she knows they’re all terms of endearment and they make her feel loved.

Nora McConnell (Nick, in all 3 of the above universes)

3. Ask them to describe their love interest.

Nora grips the hem of her dress. Her posture is stick straight, shoulders tense and hunched slightly forward, as though leaning into the couch cushions behind her might sting. 

“Nick is... terrifying,” she lets out a breathy laugh and releases her dress to fiddle with the ring on her right hand instead. “Not because of his abilities or anything, but because of how he makes me feel. Warm. Whole. Welcomed.”

She looks up and her eyes shine with unshed tears. “I’ve never felt this way before - so... off-balance. And it takes everything in me to not run away.”

22. Do they like being called pet names? Do they call other people pet names? What’s their go-to?

Nora is not a fan of pet names since they often come up with creepy dirtbags hitting on her when she’s not interested (I picture her wanting to punch someone who tries to call her doll, for example), but she’ll use them in a teasing, call-out way rather than endearing. 

In terms of whether or not she’d like being called a pet name by Nick / call him by a pet name once they’re established, we’ll just have to see, won’t we? (I’m playing around with some names for your prompt request) ;)

from these oc asks (always accepting)