#can not believe that is a bonus track. god. its like if join hands was wider staged

[bellshazes]

been listening a lot to obsession II by siouxsie and the banshees. music to fall asleep peacefully to

[cobrakaisb]

hi bestie! i’ve had this idea for a while, but i haven’t seen it. can you do like a head cannon of what miguel, robby, and eli/hawk would be like as an older brother? it can be totally based off what you think :) thank you <3

of course! sorry it took me a while but i needed to to be perfect. i also added two bonus boys at the end (hope you don’t mind). little note: i wrote this with a fem reader in mind because of the mentions of periods. 

Having the Cobra Kai boys as older brothers

miguel:

you and miguel are so close

the age difference does not affect him at all

he is very protective of you before cobra kai

but once he joins cobra kai that over protectiveness 📈📈📈

let’s just say that this kid is bothering you

miguel definitely notices and scares them off

you act annoyed about it, but you’re highkey grateful that he did that

“my brother is the all valley champ so back the fuck off”

you were so excited for him at the all valley

you wore one of his cobra kai shirts and everything

miguel is so supportive of whatever extra curricular you do

karate? yes he stans, theater? you bet he’s at all your shows, dance? you know he’s bringing you some flowers, another sport? he’s at every game cheering for you

miguel knows about periods, and he has no shame in buying you tampons/pads

“hey y/n, i noticed you were running low so i got you some more” 🥺🥺 

you wear his hoodies all the time

they are very big on you, but very comfy

you help him with sam

“i punched her in the face” “what why?”

“y/n what do you think about this?” “it looks great miguel. sam will love it”

when he dates tory you're a little on edge about it

“miguel, weren’t you like trying to win sam back two days ago?” “i like tory now” “okayy” 

johnny loves you as much as he loves miguel

y’all hang out together

his friends are your friends and vice versa

your friends definitely think that miguel is cute but “eww that’s my brother”

when miguel is in the coma you blame johnny

“he showed mercy because of you! you did this!”

but then you cry into his chest

when miguel wakes up you’re at school

you don’t find out until after school when carmen picks you up

you hug him so tight, rambling about how much you love him

“i love you too y/n now get off me”

you can’t keep up with his love life

“y/n i’m with sam again” “what?” 

overall your bond is amazing and you couldn’t ask for a better brother

robby:

you and robby both live with your mother (because we aren’t basic here)

you’re the odd one out (your mom does drugs and robby sells them)

“you got caught with molly? i thought you and sara were hooking up?” “the drug y/n”

when robby starts being friends with those punk kids, the two of you start to drift

you actually go to school, unlike him

“just skip y/n” “no robby”

it isn’t until he gets back on track because of daniel that you two start getting close again

“i’m gonna get back on track y/n i promise” and you believe him

you go to the skatepark with him

he skates while you read or draw or skate (whatever you’re into tbh)

when you’re on your period robby will buy you stuff, but he doesn’t like to

he feels so awkward about it

“um are these the right ones?” “yes thank you”

robby gives the best hugs (idk why he just does)

i feel like robby is also really good at reading emotions

like he knows when you’ve had a bad day at school or when you’re stressed about something

he also knows how to cheer you up :)))

“i know you did not just eat cereal with water???” “and what about it?”

when your mom comes back after being gone for days robby pulls you behind him

because he really doesn’t want you to be exposed to that

you cry into robby’s chest once she leaves

“why can’t she just be our mom?”

when daniel asks robby to move in with him he denies

but quickly explains that he can’t leave you

daniel tells robby that you can come too

“thanks for helping my brother mr.larusso, i really appreciate it”

you definitely walk in on robby and sam making out at some point

“hey robby- oh my god i’m so sorry” slaps hand over eyes and immediately leaves the room

when robby pushes miguel off the balcony it's the first time you’re genuinely scared of him

you visit him in jail, but it takes awhile for you to go

“i’m sorry y/n” “i know robby”

you just understand each other

when robby joins cobra kai he tries to get you in too

you agree to one lesson, and know it’s not for you

you have many arguments about this

“he’s brainwashing you!” “he knows what’s best for me, for us!”

robby feels so betrayed when he finds out you’re staying with johnny

the two of you definitely drift after that, but you find your way back to each other, you always do

eli/hawk:

okay so before he flips the script you defend eli, no matter what

you cry with him about the bullies and definitely try to fight kyler more than once

you wear his sweaters (fight me on it)

you encourage him to do karate

when he flips the script you’re very happy for him he finally feels confident in himself and you love that for him

now the roles are reversed

hawk protects you now

no one even dares to look at you because they are scared of him

i feel like he has a tattoo for you, whether that's your name or your favorite flower idk but he gets one for you

“um wow okay we’re doing that now” “do you like it or not?” “yeah but i wasn’t expecting it”

sometimes he’ll let you pick his hair color “how about purple” “maybe” 😉

he definitely flirts with your friends “hello ladies!” “hi hawk!” “get out!”

you’re the only one that is allowed to call him eli

“eli i need ten dollars?” “for what?” “a snack” *hands over the money*

“eli can i have your sweatshirt? i’m cold” “yeah take it”

“i can’t, me and eli are going to the movies today”

one day you’re sitting with him and his minions (you refuse to call them friends) at lunch

“so eli” -one of the cobra kais “shut the fuck up! you can’t call him that!” -you

hawk has a proud brother moment

anything that you do hawk is like “fuck yeah that’s my sibling!”

his friends are not allowed to look at you, talk to you, have a crush on you, or even think about you

“woah dude she’s hot” “that’s my fucking sister! stay away from her!”

“eli who’s your friend-” “NO!” 

as eli he will buy you period products but is very shy about it

as hawk he will not be caught dead in that isle of cvs

“eli i need them!” “i don’t care! i’ll drive you there and you can run in and get them”

when hawk breaks demetri’s arm you don't speak to him for weeks

you confront him about his new behavior

“this is who i am!” “no it’s not! you’re not my brother!” 

you’re crying and then storm off to your room

that breaks him

is highkey the start of his redemption

when he’s at the fight at the larusso house, and he sees demetri about to get his arm broken, he thinks of your words: “you're not my brother!”

literally motivates him to fix things

you see hawk and demitri and just know that your brother is back

you hug him so tight

“you were right y/n. i’m sorry” “of course i was. i’m always right” “gee thanks” “love you”  

bonus demetri:

he is a nerd, you are a nerd

the two of you watch star wars, marvel, harry potter, etc. together 

“daddy anakin” “please shut the fuck up”

you want to punch him in the face because he is so sarcastic 

it gets on your nerves 

bust out laughing when johnny makes fun of his pi shirt 

“stop laughing” “if it’s funny i'm gonna laugh”

even though you’re a nerd you’re cool 

like you have a lot of friends in your grade 

“demetri if i don’t talk to you at the halloween party that’s why” gestures to his costume 

listen to his rants about how eli’s changed 

you try to give him advice, but it doesn’t work out

so proud of him when he joins miyagi-do

“i'm glad you’re stepping out of your comfort zone” 

demetri tries to get you to join miyagi-do

if you do join great more sibling bonding

if you don’t join no biggie y’all are still besties

y’all go to the comic book store together

its sibling bonding time

you threaten to fight hawk after the laser tag thing 

“hey asshole you leave my brother alone!” 

you sign his cast first

you definitely write some inside joke that only the two of you understand

you see him kissing yas and do a whole 🤮

“so you dating yas?” “idk why” “just checking”

very obvious about your distaste for her

when him and hawk become friends again you’re very wary

“he broke your arm” “he apologized” “he broke your arm!!!”

eventually you and hawk are on semi decent terms

“demetri forgave you and that’s fine but i’m still not over it”

your relationship = the perfect mix of love and teasing  

bonus bonus king bert 🙌🏻:

you are older than him by like a year

but you’re still besties for life 

you’re very proud of him when he joins cobra kai

“im joining a karate dojo” “period pop off”

you always ruffle his hair 

cheer for him at the all valley

“yeah bert!”

but also like you can’t watch 

when he gets eliminated you cringe 

he’s sad about it 

“i just wanted to impress you” “im very impressed bert, you did great” 

your opinion matters so much to him

he’s such a small cinnamon roll 🥺🥺

seeing him with the older cobra kai boys makes you soft

“y/n i’m going out with hawk and miguel can you drive me?” 

bert admires you a lot, like you are his hero

y’all are the best sibling duo and that’s on period

[mochegato]

Paper Lanterns for New Beginnings

Another meet cute Monday fic.  Not going to let being sick stop it.  Hope you like it @boldlyanxious

��What do you think, Lian? Should we get a yellow one and a red one?” Roy asked holding up two paper lanterns.

“More, Papa.  We need lots,” Lian jumped excitedly as she answered, reaching up for more lanterns on the wall.

Roy shook his head, trying to hold in his chuckle.  She definitely got that need for more from him.  “Sorry, Sweetie, our hotel room doesn’t have room for more.  I think it’s just going to be the two for us.”

Lian pouted and sent him a glare to let him know how unhappy she was with his answer.  This time he was unsuccessful in keeping in his laughter in the face of her adorable three year old glare.  “I know you want a bigger celebration, but it’s just us this year so I think we’ll keep it small, okay?”

“No!  Big, Papa.  I want big!” she exclaimed loudly opening her arms wide to show him how big she wanted.

“Not this year, Honey. Maybe next year we can get Grandpa Ollie involved.  He’ll love to go over the top for you,” he answered firmly, sending her the most sympathetic look he could.  He understood she wanted to have a big celebration, like her mother would do for her, but he was not prepared for it.  In all honesty, he probably shouldn’t have taken the assignment from Oliver or pushed it back so they could celebrate Têt at home, but it was too late now.  “Come on, let’s get these and find a Vietnamese restaurant to get dinner at.  They might have some kind of party going on we can join.”

He started moving toward the front of the store, looking back to encourage Lian to come with him and make sure she was still following him instead of pouting in place.  His attention was so focused on Lian, he missed the young woman who was also making her way to the front with a box that almost looked larger than her and was overflowing with decorations.  He walked backwards into her box, knocking it out of her hands and pushing her off balance.

His arms reached her seconds before she fell into his chest, doing little more than wrap around her protectively.  He barely set his foot as a brace in time to keep them from falling over.  She lifted her head from his chest to look up at him with wide, beautiful, blue eyes.  Her eyes caught on his for a few moments before she shook her head lightly, seemingly bringing herself back to reality.  “I am so sorry!  I’m so madly clumsy.  Are you okay?” she gushed out quickly.  She looked him up and down, searching for any evidence of injury.

He chuckled lightly and checked her quickly to make sure she was okay too, which was a mistake because now his cheeks were heating up as he found himself unable to stop himself from checking out the absolutely beautiful woman in his arms.  Arms he hadn’t retracted from around her yet.  Arms, he noted, which she hadn’t removed herself from yet either.

“Daddy?  Okay Daddy?” Lian asked worriedly.

Roy jumped back from the woman, pulling his arms back quickly.  He chuckled awkwardly and scratched the back of his neck.  “Yeah, Sweetie.  I’m fine.” He turned back to the woman in front of him.  “Are you okay?  I’m sorry. I was watching my daughter instead of where I was walking.”

He moved to reassure Lian, but his feet got caught on the contents of the box that had spilled out around them when the woman fell.  He searched for a clear spot to set his foot to brace himself, but couldn’t find a spot before gravity took hold.  This time the woman was there for him.  She reached out and steadied him before he could fall.  “Thank you,” he grinned sheepishly at her.

She gave him a sweet smile in return.  “Just glad I could return the favor.  We’re even now.”

He smiled back at her, staring into her eyes.  He lost track of how long he was staring when Lian spoke up again.  “So many lanterns!” she squealed excitedly.

The woman jumped slightly and looked over to her with a kind smile.  “Yeah, we’re having a party tomorrow night for Têt.”  She knelt down to start gathering the decorations.

Roy knelt down next to her and started helping as well.  She gave him a grateful smile.  He shrugged back at her.  “Least I can do after knocking it out of your hands in the first place.”

“You’re having a Têt party?” Lian exclaimed.

The woman giggled.  “Well, I’m not. My friend’s mother is.  She always throws a big celebration for the second night. Everyone is invited.  If you guys want to come, you’re more than welcome to.”

Lian gasped loudly and looked at Roy with big, hopeful eyes, practically vibrating in excitement.  “Can we, Papa?”

Roy looked from her to the woman and back. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t want to impose on their celebration.  “I don’t know, Sweetie…”

The woman gave him a shy look and spoke quietly so he could hear her but not Lian.  “If you’re worried about imposing, don’t.  It’s a big party and she makes a point to invite anyone who wants to come. Everyone contributes, hence the…” she motioned toward the decorations.  “In fact, she’d have my head if she found out I ran into people who were interested and didn’t invite them.”  She gave him another bright smile that made him lose his breath. “So please, feel free to come and bring whoever with you.  You’ll be saving me a lecture.”

He found himself smiling back at her and nodding.  Like he would ever say no.  “Thank you. That would be great.  I wanted to do something for Lian, but I don’t…”  He paused to calm his mind and sort his thoughts. “That would be perfect, yeah. Thanks.”  His hand tingled where it had brushed against hers as they reached for the same lantern to put in the box.  

“I’m Roy.”  He extended his hand to shake hers.  “This is Lian.”

The woman smiled at Lian and turned back to Roy as she shook his hand, letting her hand linger in his as she spoke.  “I’m Marinette.  It’s nice to meet you both.”

“It’s really nice to meet you too.  Um… but, for the party, it’s just us.  There’s nobody else… here or at home.” He internally face palmed at his awkwardness.

She grinned pointedly at him and took her hand back to pick up the last of the decorations.  “Well, don’t tell Thim Lê Chiến that.  She’ll try to set you up with someone and since I’m the one inviting you, it’ll probably be me.”  She winked at Lian and chuckled as she put the last of the decorations into the box.

“You say that like it wouldn’t make me tell her first thing.”  Roy gave her a charming smile and grabbed the box, as he moved toward the front with her. “I wouldn’t mind the help actually… if you wouldn’t,” he added hesitantly.

She smiled ruefully at him.  “Normally I wouldn’t, but this party is actually celebrating more than just Têt.  It’s a bunch of new beginnings.  It’s Têt and birthdays and the defeat of Hawkmoth and… my goodbye party.  I’m moving in a few weeks so…”

Roy’s heart clenched slightly at the thought.  His charming smile turned sad.  He really would have liked to get to know her better.  But, then again, Paris would have been difficult anyway.  A new place couldn’t be much worse, right?  “That’s great for you though.  I mean, assuming you’re moving for something good.  Where are you moving?”

She took Lian’s hand as they made their way to the front together.  “I’m starting an internship in New York next month.  I’m moving in a few weeks to get settled and find an apartment.”

She watched as a grin found its way back on his lips.  “Do you believe in luck?” he asked smugly.

She eyed him suspiciously. “You live in New York?”

“I live in Star City, which is less than an hour outside it.  And I love visiting New York,” he answered, his roguish smile firmly back on his lips.

“Daddy, you said you hated when you had to go to New York.”  Lian’s face scrunched up in confusion.

Roy grimaced slightly and turned back to Marinette quickly with an overly wide smile.  “Hated that I don’t have a good reason to visit more often,” he corrected, cutting her off before she could say more.  “I have friends that live in New York if you need pointers and recommendations.  Maybe I can give you some at the party or over dinner tonight?

Marinette gave him a bemused smile, her eyes sparkled with mirth.  “Don’t you want to spend the first night with your immediate family?”

He motioned to Lian.  “This is my immediate family.  And we would love to invite you to join us.”  He gave her another charming smile.  “What do you think, Sweetie?”

“Yeah!  Please come.”  Lian clapped excitedly and turned to Marinette with wide kitten eyes.

“Well that’s just playing dirty,” she playfully scolded.  

Roy set down the box at the register and picked up Lian, setting her on his hip.  “It really is.  Luckily, she only uses her powers for good… mostly.” He gave Lian a mock glare that caused her to start giggling.

Marinette joined in the laughter and handed over her card to the checker.  “I’m not sure if I’ll have time.  I have to help set up for the party now and I’ll be spending most of the day tomorrow preparing food for the party.  So I’ll probably be busy until the party tomorrow… unless you guys want to help with the decorations?  If you want more Têt experience.”

“I don’t want to…” Roy started.

“Again,” she cut him off, “don’t worry about imposing. Thim Lê Chiến would absolutely love to have Lian helping.  She loves getting kids involved in the celebration.  And seeing Lian will only increase her harassment of my friend about when he’s going to have kids so that’s just another bonus for me. Please don’t take causing that away from me.”  She looked up at him with her own kitten eyes.

He chuckled lightly and looked down to give himself a brief reprieve from the lightheaded feeling he felt whenever he looked in her eyes.  “Who’s being unfair now?” he playfully chided.

“Is that a yes?” she asked, looking to Lian conspiratorially.

“Please, Daddy?” Lian added, matching Marinette’s kitten eyes.

“Oh God, too much cuteness,” he laughed shaking his head.  He raised his head to look her in the eyes again and send a genuine, grateful smile. “Yes.  We would love to help and get to know you better.”

Marinette smiled brilliantly at them.  “Sounds like a great start to the new year.”

[maddiewritesstucky]

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Stripper Bucky / Architect Steve

Words: 3790

Tags: Sexy shower antics, post-exercise endorphin highs, Steve is a badass for like 10 minutes, Bucky is not a morning person (until he suddenly is), enthusiastic morning sex

A follow-up one-shot to the slow death of Steve Rogers. Many thanks to my radiant cassowary @kalee60​ for giving it your clever eyes. Infinite birdseed for you 😘

(Also on Ao3)

When Bucky wakes up, he is aware of two things, and two things only.

One - it’s way too fucking early for his eyelids to have peeled themselves back the way they have, if the rosy tint of the sky outside is anything to go by, and two - his foot should have connected with some part of Steve’s anatomy by now on it’s customary post-waking stretch across the mattress.

His body is coming online one limb at a time, and he grunts his displeasure into the rumpled sheets; gaze firmly averted from the clock on the bedside table. Putting a number to it will only make him angry, and the stupid beautiful soft dawn light filling the bedroom tells him everything he needs to know anyway. 

Why they had decided to move into Steve’s apartment when Bucky’s actually had things like properly functioning curtains, he has no idea. 

"Steve,”  he groans, voice thick with the remnants of sleep and the injustice of waking before he intended to. 

He kicks his foot out a little further; throws an arm out to join the search party too, but finds Steve’s side of the bed decidedly more vacant than it had been when he fell asleep last night. 

Running, some vaguely helpful part of Bucky’s subconscious supplies, you fell for a man who goes running at bastard o’clock in the morning. 

He flops over onto his back and scrubs his hands up over his face; up through the tangled mess of hair that seems to find new ways of defying its scrunchie-prison every night. His vision sharpens into focus and sticks a moment on the giant canvas print photo of himself and Steve smiling back at him from the far wall; a grinning relic of a Bucky who was not woken before his time.

It still makes his stomach flip a little, that picture - the two of them stuffed into the heavy-knit sweaters Bucky’s ma had made them last Christmas; both in the  throes of losing their shit over the comically absurd miscalculation she’d made on size. Steve’s got tears in his eyes, and Bucky’s aren’t even open, and they’re clinging to each other with that special kind of desperation that intense, prolonged laughter seems to spawn.

It’s everything good about their life together, that photo; the sheer warmth and joy they’ve found in one another over the past year, the sense of  home and family and right. 

It’s even more heartwarming, Bucky finds, when the sun is a reasonable distance above the horizon.

He drags his protesting body out of its sleep-warmed cocoon, his intentions set on the brand new bag of espresso grind that Last-Night Bucky had so wisely left sitting on the kitchen counter. 

He’s going to use Steve’s favorite mug, the one he’d happened across in a yard sale that reads ‘architects do it on drafting tables’  with a lewd stick figure drawing. Partially because it holds the most coffee, and partially because if Steve had remained in bed this morning, with all his familiar warmth and dependable big-spoon behavior, Bucky would have remained blissfully unconscious until his alarm went off. 

...Steve’s not here to actually  see  this particular middle-finger of a gesture, but that’s beside the point. Bucky will  know.

It’s not until he’s shuffling his way down the hall, already two steps past the closed bathroom door, that Bucky registers the faint sounds of water hitting tile, and the sporadic, off-key hum of a post-run Steve. 

His feet halt in their tracks before he’s even made the conscious decision that coffee can wait.

He wants to keep walking, to get his precious cup of bean nectar and crawl back into bed for another hour or three, it’s just...

Post-run Steve is kind of Bucky’s jam. 

He’s sweaty, and loose-limbed, and hopped up on exercise endorphins which, more often than not, make him inexplicably horny and give him the closest approximation of a bad boy complex that someone with Steve’s demeanor could possibly get. 

Post-run Steve is the only good thing about being awake at this god forsaken hour. 

The sunrise, and the stillness, and the smell of fresh dew can get fucked, but Bucky will carpe the hell out of a diem for some Post-run Steve.

He slips quietly into the bathroom, and is immediately grateful for the time he spent descaling the shower door yesterday when he’s met with an unimpeded view of Steve’s glorious back. What goddamn right an architect has looking like that, Bucky has no idea, but you wanna talk about some aesthetically pleasing angles?

Steve’s got one hand braced against the wall, head dipped to draw out the line of his back. His skin’s a little flushed; water channeling in fast-flowing rivulets between the soft ridges and swells of his drawn-taut muscles, and he’s breathing those quiet grunts of the recently-exerted. 

He’s a living, breathing thirst-trap, and the knowledge that he’d only blush and change the subject if Bucky told him so just makes it a thousand times better. 

Bucky pushes his soft flannel sleep pants off his hips and lets them fall to the floor, sending up another silent salute to Last-Night Bucky for going commando, and steps forward to pull open the shower door.

...Later on, when Bucky is reflecting on it all, he’ll blame the early hour and his pre-caffeinated state for the fact that he didn’t realise. The soft noises falling from Steve’s lips, the very particular bunch and flex of very particular muscles…

Any other time of day, Bucky would have known straight away. 

Any other time of day, and Bucky wouldn’t have even needed to be in the same room - he could be at the bodega down the street, and his nipples would inexplicably harden at the pluck of Steve’s distant arousal on the cosmic spiderweb. 

But as it happens in the moment, it’s not until Steve’s head is falling back on a low moan that Bucky realizes exactly what it is he’s walked in on. 

“Oh, shit...”

It’s off his tongue before he can reel it back in, and Steve almost jumps out of his skin. 

His head whips around, and for the briefest flicker of a moment, he looks shocked and uncertain and embarrassed as all hell. 

But this right here is no weekday-afternoon Steve. This is not the blushing, bumbling hunk of love meee that occupies the corporeal form of Steve Rogers 95% of the time. 

No, this is Post-run Steve, and it’s all of about two seconds before he’s schooling his features into something more akin to vaguely-smirking indifference; turning until he’s facing Bucky front on, and settling his weight back against the shower wall.

“Babe, I’m sorry, I didn’t--” Bucky begins, as close to apologetic as one can really be about seeing their significant other in a compromising yet Very Sexy position. But the words dry up on his lips as Steve lifts a finger to his own in the universal gesture of ‘shush.’   

He watches, rapt, as Steve first reaches over to the tap and shuts off the water, and then takes up the bottle of Bucky’s conditioner, squirting some into his hand before wrapping it back around his cock. 

And then that jacked-up idiot, that neuro-chemical flooded pseudo bad bitch, looks Bucky dead in the eye...and goes right back to jerking off. 

He’s putting on a goddamn show with it too - pulling at his cock, long and slow and tight; dropping his head back against the wall and letting his moans ricochet shamelessly off the tile. The sound of his fist working over his dick is lewd as hell, so much more audible for the fact that there’s no rush of running water to mask it anymore, and Bucky wonders briefly if he ever actually woke up at all, if this isn’t just all a very believable wet dream. 

It certainly contains all the usual elements - intense eye contact; a big fat dick getting rubbed off by a beefy, naked, wet dude (bonus that it’s Bucky’s actual, real-life boyfriend); the kinds of sounds you usually only hear in porn…

For all Bucky knows, he could still be tucked up in bed asleep, and not standing here naked and painfully erect in this steamed up bathroom, watching his boyfriend jack it like he’s starring in some locker-room porno.

“You need somethin’, or you just come in here to watch?” Steve drawls, arching a brow at him, and yeah  - there’s a  lot of things Bucky needs all of a sudden.

He rakes an assessing gaze over Steve’s body, stepping into the shower and pressing his palms to the swell of Steve’s pecs.

“I just wanted to make sure your run went okay,” he shrugs, “no pulled tendons, shin splints...aching muscles…that kinda thing.” 

He squeezes at Steve’s shoulders and his biceps and his tiny waist; threads his hands up through Steve’s hair and slots a thigh between Steve’s to push their hips together. 

Steve’s skin is so warm, and slippery, and he smells like soap, and Bucky starts mentally calculating just how much time they have and how much energy he can feasibly expend before their respective work days start.

He’s not on stage tonight, but he is on shift for his day job at the community center, teaching a preschool ballet class at 10am, and then a seniors ballroom dancing session at midday before his contemporary classes in the afternoon. Steve’s working from home today, so hypothetically it wouldn’t matter if Bucky wore him out a little…

“Buck...” 

“Mm?” 

He rubs his whole self shamelessly against Steve, pressing in so the barbells spiked through his nipples drag across the wet expanse of Steve’s chest. He kisses Steve’s neck and his tits and his mouth, hungry and handsy and a little frantic, and Steve laughs softly against his lips as he turns them to push Bucky up against the slick tile of the shower wall.

“Your concern is deeply moving,” he deadpans, caging Bucky in with hands planted either side of his head, “but I think we need to talk about your bathroom etiquette...didn’t anybody ever teach you to knock?” 

He’s staring Bucky down with eyes lit up something wicked; his body so very nearly touching Bucky’s but not quite, and it hits Bucky all over again that his boyfriend is, physically speaking...really fucking imposing.

It’s easy to forget, when he’s being...well, Steve. Perpetually polite, kind-hearted, goofy...Bucky feels like when he looks at Steve, he sees the softness of his nature, the quiet goodness that radiates out of him. 

He sees the sensible shoes and the khaki pants, the careful artist hands and the way Steve still sometimes carries himself like the much-smaller man he claims to have once been. 

He’s Stevie, and Bucky wouldn’t have him any other way. 

But all of that also happens to be contained within a 6’2”, 200lb frame, and right now...Bucky kind of wants to suffocate under it. 

“I am so sorry, Steven,” he says, though it’s entirely negated by the raging hard on he’s sporting and the giddy, gratuitous manner in which he’s still feeling Steve up. 

He skates his fingertips down the rippled plain of Steve’s stomach, down to the trail of dusky blond hair leading south from his belly button, but Steve catches his hands and pins them up above his head. 

“I’m sure you are,” Steve hums, “but I don’t think you appreciate the gravity of the situation here. See, you caught me in a very private moment, one that I was very much enjoying, and now I’m all thrown off. You got me feelin’ shy.” 

...There’s some very compelling evidence to the contrary rubbing up against Bucky’s hip right now, but that’s beside the point. Steve’s teeth are scraping a line all the way down Bucky’s neck to nip at the ice fractals tattooed across his shoulder, and Bucky’s more than willing to play along.

“However can I make it up to you?” 

He arches into the press of Steve’s body, the hard line of Steve’s cock nestled into the crease of his hip.

If Steve shifted just slightly, he’d be rubbing up against Bucky’s dick. 

It’s not an accident that Steve isn’t making that shift. 

“You really want to?” Steve kisses the question against his skin, making his way slowly back up to Bucky’s mouth, and Bucky nods vehemently.

He’s already wetting his lips in preparation for all the ‘making up’ they’re about to do; signalling his knees to get ready to bend and pulling at Steve’s grip on his wrists, but Steve doesn’t release him.

Instead, he pulls back just far enough to look Bucky square in the eye, and smiles entirely too sweet for the authoritative edge that rumbles into his voice. “Go back to bed, Bucky.” 

Bucky has to blink a few times as the words circulate in his ears. His expression turns from I’m about to get some D!  to  oh god I’m being denied the D in about 0.2 seconds flat.

Bed is very far away from the dick that is currently in need of reparations, he can’t achieve anything from bed.

“But—you said—I was gonna—”

“Go. back. to bed.”  Steve tightens his grip on Bucky’s wrists and leans his whole weight against him, right up in his space so his lips catch against Bucky’s as he speaks, “...and wait for me.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

A big, stupid, ‘bout-to-get-railed grin stretches across Bucky’s face. He wriggles free of Steve’s grasp and stumbles out of the shower, stopping himself just shy of a wildly enthusiastic ‘yes sir!’

He thinks he can hear Steve’s laughter as he takes off back down the hall toward the bedroom, but it might just be his own echoing back to him. He throws himself down onto the unmade bed, still warm from when he got up not ten minutes ago, and honestly who needs to sleep in anyway? Sleeping in is for people who don’t have absolute poundcake boyfriends to screw them into the sunrise.

He should have toweled off, he realizes as his damp skin rubs against the bedding, but he cannot be blamed for life choices made before six am, and there are far more important things afoot anyway. 

Things like the sound of the shower turning back on for approximately forty-five seconds, then the muted pass of a towel being scrubbed over hair, and footsteps on the hardwood growing ever closer to the bedroom.

God, this is gonna be a good day. What  a beautiful day to be greeting the dawn, making the most of his youth, seizing everything life throws at him!

He has the good sense to snatch the lube out of the bedside drawer just as Steve walks into the room, eyeing him with amusement and hunger in equal measures. 

“You know what the problem is, with what just happened back there, Buck?” 

Steve saunters toward the bed with all the nonchalance of a man whose work day doesn’t start for another three hours. 

He wraps his sizable hands around Bucky’s ankles and yanks him down the bed a little - for no other purpose than to hear Bucky’s breath hitch at the unnecessary show of strength - and climbs up onto the mattress to straddle Bucky’s shins. 

“The problem is, I don’t like to make a spectacle of myself.” He plucks the lube from Bucky’s hand and pours some into his own, spreading it over his cock in lazy pulls. “Being the center of attention, having eyes on me...that’s more your speed.”

“Mhmm, yes, I am an attention whore,” Bucky nods, reaching grabby hands out at Steve who refuses to shift any further up his body, “and you are humble and handsome and have a big dick. Make out with me.” 

Steve tuts and shakes his head, reaching his unoccupied hand to flick at one of Bucky’s nipple piercings. 

“Oh, I don’t think you get to make requests right now. See, the worst part of you throwin’ me off back there? I was so fucking close.  So now what you get to do, James, is flip the fuck over, and let me finish what I started.” 

...Jesus, Bucky loves Post-run Steve.

He’s gonna marry Post-run Steve and have his hopped up little post-run babies, and make sure Steve never misses a single day of early morning exercise so he can bask in the glory of this magnificent bastard every goddamn day of his life.

Bucky flops over onto his front and gets his knees under himself, sticking his ass up in the air with a wiggle that’s probably a lot more comical than it is enticing. But the heat of Steve’s palms hook around the front of his thighs and pull them out from under him, sprawling him flat against the mattress.

There’s a sudden clamping of teeth on his ass cheek and the sharp swat of an open palm, and then Bucky’s being pressed firmly into the sheets by Steve’s weight settling high up on the backs of his thighs. 

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” Steve sighs, planting his hands on the dip in Bucky’s spine, “I’m gonna use your ass to get off, and then I’m going to get back into bed, while you go make us some coffee.”

Bucky nods into the mess of blankets under his cheek, futilely trying to rock his hips up against Steve’s considerable weight. “Yes, agreed, punishment fits the cri-hi wow okay.” 

A wholly undignified sound is wrenched from Bucky’s chest as Steve skips all pretense of tease, and thrusts his slicked up cock into the crease of Bucky’s ass, rubbing off between his cheeks with a very singular purpose. 

Bucky scrabbles to grab hold of his pillow and drags it down, wedging it under his hips with as much success as can be expected when you’re being pinned by a 200lb adrenaline-testosterone cocktail. It’s enough though, to very favorably cushion the rub of his dick, and all things considered…this whole thing is working out pretty well for him.

He’s expending precisely zero effort, but the wet glide of Steve’s cock over his hole and the push of Steve’s hips rubbing him into the pillow is very much Doing It for him, and he lets his body go loose and pliant as Steve does all the work for the both of them.

And Steve is putting in work - rocking Bucky into the mattress with a fervor that knocks the breath out of him and sends the headboard careening rhythmically into the wall. 

“Y’hear that, Buck?” Steve pants, not for a second breaking his frankly devastating pace. “That’s what a fuckin’ knock sounds like.” 

“Oh my god.”   

This is exactly how every single day of Bucky’s life should begin. Naked, giddy, cocks enthusiastically rubbing up against holes, and Steve running his mouth like he won’t be turning ten shades of red about it later. 

If this is the payoff, Bucky will bust in on every single shower Steve has for the rest of his life.

“I love you,” he laughs a little breathlessly into the bedding, biting off a moan at the heat coiling low in his belly. 

It’s entirely sincere, and he says it because he means it...but if he also happens to know by now that those words are a direct hit to Steve’s prostate during sex?

That’s just a happy coincidence.

Steve makes a sound like he’s been punched, his thighs twitching and tensing where they’re clamped around Bucky’s hips. 

His breaths are coming sharp and shallow, his movements taking on a frantic edge that betrays exactly how close he is, and Bucky would ask him to slow down, except he really, really doesn’t want him to. 

“I love you, Stevie,” he says again, letting his own building climax bleed into his voice, “love you so much...come on, baby...” 

“Fuck,  Bucky, I...oh...” 

His weight falls forward over Bucky as he comes, and it’s all the shove Bucky needs to tip over the edge with him. 

He spills all over his pillow, burying a moan into the sheets and huffing under the weight of Steve’s body going lax on top of him.   

“Oh my god, Buck,” Steve groans, vaguely awed like it wasn’t his own efforts that just brought them both to sticky ruin, and Bucky reaches a hand back to swat weakly at him. 

“You said it, pal.” 

Steve nuzzles into the crook of his neck, planting breathless kisses against his skin and running his hands over every part of Bucky he can reach. 

It’s so tangible, that shift back to normalcy, back to  Steve.  It always hits Bucky square in the chest, the way he can feel Steve’s edges softening, feel that boisterous energy turn sweet and mellow in the aftermath. 

It’s kind of precious, actually, though Bucky would never phrase it like that to Steve’s face.  

He squirms beneath Steve’s weight, getting himself turned over until he’s on his back beneath him. “Good morning,” he smiles up at Steve softly, running his fingers through the still-damp tufts of his hair. 

Steve sighs happily, letting his eyes drift shut and tilting his head into Bucky’s hand. “Good morning, pervert.” 

“Hey, come on, you know I didn't do that on purpose!  ” Bucky laughs, cupping Steve’s face and kissing him all over his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve rolls his eyes, though the smile on his face says Bucky’s doesn’t really have anything to be sorry about. “Guess I can forgive you this one  time.”

“You’re a gracious man.”

Bucky drags him down and kisses him right on his smile, sweet and lazy. When they pull apart, Steve’s got that dopey look on his face like he’s feeling a whole lot of something, and Bucky knows exactly what’s coming before Steve says it.

“Glad you love me, Bucky Barnes.” 

...He knew it was coming, but it still gets him every time. 

“Glad to love you, Steve Rogers.” He feels like he’s glowing a little as he leans up to peck Steve on the tip of his nose. “Now if I’m not mistaken, I owe you a cup of coffee...you’re gonna have to let me up if you want me to follow through on that.” 

“Mm, counter offer - we both go wash off, together, and then I’ll make us breakfast while you handle the coffee?” 

Bucky pretends to consider for a second before he nods, stretching his body out as Steve rolls his weight off him. 

“Agreed.” He waves a hand in the general direction of the door, shooting Steve a wink and a lopsided grin. “Lead the way, pal. I believe you are intimately familiar with where the shower is.”

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Aftermath)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings:

a/n: y/n is about 17 or 18; i cried while writing this. sorry this is really long!!! pls forgive me 🥺

prompt: takes place from a3 to smffh

The Early Years (1) The Teenage Years (2) The Intense Years (3) Continued (5)

let’s start on a happy note! ahahah

so for a while, earth was calm

you, pepper, and tony got to be a family for a while

wedding planning!

of course you got to try the ben&jerry’s ice cream named after your dad: Stark Raving Hazelnuts

“it’s not fair that you got ice cream named after you and i didn’t”

“well, when you grow up to be as awesome as me, maybe you’ll get your own ice cream flavor”

developing nanotech suits together for a Bonding Experience(tm)

speechless after the first test

“dad, this is...”

“the coolest thing to ever exist?”

“yes!!”

yall ready for some shit?

the day that ebony maw invaded was pretty—what’s the word? interesting? no. well, yes, but...HORRIBLE.

it all started when you got the call from your dad

“y/n, incoming call from ‘big fat meanie’”

“god, i really have to change that. okay, JOSHIE, answer it. hey, dad? what’s up?”

“hey, kid! you know that weird ass building on bleecker street? how fast can you get here?”

“JOSH can you track FRIDAY really quick? lets see how far dad is...uh, okay, be there in five, see ya”

taking your suit for a spin and realizing how GREAT it was to be able to basically fold up your suit and put it in your back pocket

knocking on the door and it opened on its own, it was kinda cool

“is this a museum? cool.”

bruce turning around to see you after about three years and giving you an awkward smile and a wave while you stood frozen around the wizard-guys

“y/n, god, you’ve grown up!”

charging into him for a long overdue hug

“you don’t know how much i missed you. it’s been chaotic without you”

“i can...i can only imagine”

a debriefing on the situation you were about to face, and bonus! having to play the catch-up game with bruce

“just call him, dad. we need as much help as we can. steve will understand”

rushing outside to face off with some ugly-ass aliens

“oh nooo, it’s roger smith from american dad”

bruce: 👀, stephen: 👀, wong: 👀, tony: 👏👏🥰 that’s my girl

simultaneous nanosuit unveiling

“you ready for this one, pops?”

“of course! ive waited years to kick some more alien ass”

montage of you and tony getting your asses beat together (as a family <3)

peter showing up

“give me one good reason why i shouldn’t send you back to that school bus”

“because i’m good company?”

“whatever, just listen to whatever dad has to say, i forfeit my responsibilities over you”

pew pew, repulsors, pew, tiny rockets! fun! action! destroying new york again and again. good times...

until JOSHUA gave you notice that your dad was flying high

“call him. now.”

“hey! how’s it going down there?”

“dad, you know how i feel about you and space”

“i know, i know. i just...i gotta take care of this. keep pepper safe for your old man, okay?”

“i lo—l—ve y—”

“y/n? y/n?! i love you! shit!”

“we lost connection with her, sir”

trying to call peter

“call failed, y/n. should i try again?”

“i’m gonna kill them...”

walking through the rubble to find bruce, the only sensible man you know

taking him to the avengers compound asap to get to rhodey and figure out what comes next

meanwhile, tony was dealing with space and another teenager

and worrying a lot about leaving you on earth

“i mean, mr. stark, y/n’s one of the most capable people i know. she’s probably trying to fix this whole mess as we speak”

“i didn’t get to tell her i love her”

“oh...”

having a lovely meeting with thaddeus ross with rhodey, having a lovely time watching them passive-aggresively argue until your former teammates arrived

having to patiently (and professionally) wait for ross to hang up before running into them for a hug

“holy shit, you guys have no idea how bad i’ve wanted to see you. it sucks not being all together anymore”

“i know, y/n. we’ve all missed you.” -cap

“a lot” -nat added

bruce’s little entrance that was sure to bring some awkwardness

you, secretly freaking out about your dad

sam was the one that found you crying after you “stepped out” for a few minutes too long

“oh, y/n,” he was contemplating grabbing someone else to step in, but decided to sit next to you in the hallway, “i’m sorry, kiddo. i can’t promise you anything, but your dad is a fighter. a big pain in the ass. i think your odds are good”

laughing through your tears

“yeah, you’re right. thanks, sammy”

he gave you a little hug while you calmed down

getting to business, the ass-kicking kind

as the wise natasha romanoff once said to your father, you were being “uncharacteristically non-hyper verbal”

your mind did this funny thing...wandered into places it really should not go

the talk about sacrificing vision led to wakanda, where you had a swell time patrolling

“guys! we’ve got incoming. a lot of incoming”

well-deserved uncle/niece team up. who wouldve thought?

you would have nightmares about these aliens for years to come

“you get to die, and you get to die! everybody gets to die!”

“y/n, what did we talk about?” -rhodey

“using humor as a defense mechanism makes the team uncomfortable...”

covering the girls 😌 because we gotta have those all-girl teamups, uh-huh?

some more blasting

thor made his comeback and you just could not miss it

“hi, thor!”

you landed next to him and your helmet receded

“well, hello, miss y/n! good to see you again! my, you got taller...oh! meet my friends: rabbit and tree”

having a “what the actual fuck” moment upon seeing thanos for the first time

and flying at him from behind with a massive nanotech blade ready to kill this purple bastard

but he grabbed your arm and flung you into the dirt, that was gonna leave a mark

“i just had to make a suit when i was ten...no one stopped me, huh? i couldn’t be elon’s kid, he was a nice guy”

watching thanos snap his fingers and looking around to see dust floating through the air and thanos retreat

“rhodey? uncle rhodey?!”

“i’m right here, kid, don’t worry”

he grabbed your hand while you were dusting

“tell my dad i love him, promise?”

fading away and leaving rhodey with your last words

he was mad before anything else

all he could think about was a promise your dad made him take years back

“rhodey, you keep my daughter safe no matter what, promise?”

the avengers recooperating at the compound, waiting to figure out whether any of the space-crew survived

they had to let pepper know that you didn’t make it, she was a mess upon hearing that news

tony finally making his way back to earth

and stumbling out of that ship

“where’s y/n? where is she?!”

“tony, tony, calm down”

“dont tell me to calm down! where is my daughter?!”

“she made me promise to tell you thay she loves you”

tony knew the answer by now, he lost his mind over your death

it didn’t feel right not having you by his side, for the past 18 years you’ve been with him

after a long period of recovery, tony and pepper moved on, got married, built a home, had a new daughter...

tony made sure there was a spare room for you

he put all the things you left behind in it

there were so many photos of you in the house

and he’d show your sister, morgan, all of them. he wanted morgan to know her sister

“that’s y/n when she built her first robot. it snuck up on me a few times. it went ‘boo!’”

morgan loved the stories about you, but she didn’t understand why she couldn’t see you

“when do i get to meet her?”

“uh...maybe someday, sweetie”

after being unbothered for almost 5 years, the remaining avengers came back with a plan that was so tempting, he just wanted his little girl back

cracking under pressure and telling pepper that he couldn’t ignore this mission because it was his chance to get you back

“get her back, tony”

“you think so?”

“i miss her, too.”

and so it began, he made it his mission to get you back

peeking at the wallet picture of you on his shoulders when you were so little

tony travelling to 2012; loki’s invasion

and there you were, the sassy genius 12 year old that he missed so much

“we’ve got this, tony, we’ll bring her home” -scott

and then things went badly and also 2012 tony went into cardiac arrest and 2012 y/n dove onto the floor to tend to him

“dad? give us some room, would you?!”

2023 tony smiling at how much he missed you worrying about him and how reckless he was

but also...the mission kinda went bad so that sucked

push it a bit farther back and now tony was with grandpa stark! asking how to be a dad and all that!

he could barely stand still waiting for you to come back to him, god he missed you more than he thought

and after a bit of hard work, it was time to snap

just like that, you were back in wakanda, puzzled by the gap in time before one of dr. strange’s portals opened in front of you

and then you were in the ruins of the avengers compound

“JOSHUA, can you locate my dad?”

“i think you’ll be able to see him”

“wow, i cant believe i programmed your cocky artificial ass”

“i think you can”

seeing your dad flying high and patching into the comms

“miss me, old man?”

and then he hit the gas to get to you and when this man hugged you, you almost couldn’t let go

“i’m so sorry, y/n. god, i’m sorry. these last five years...i was so lost without you”

“it’s okay, dad, i’m here now”

getting shot at during your reunion

“son of a bitch...we’re having a family moment here, asshole!”

yes, im gonna say it again. of course i am! and.........father/daugher team-up

the last one

“peter, is that you? you asshole! i cant believe you went to space without me!”

“missed you too!”

rhodey!! cant forget about uncle rhodey!!

“you gave my dad the message, right?”

“it was your dying wish, of course i did!”

“great. don’t forget i love you, too, rhodey!”

“couldn’t let me forget it”

lest we forget that pepper joined the fight?

plot twist: (step)mother/daughter team-up

mother/father/daugher team up!!!! ultimate stark machine!!!!!!!

and then you left him alone for 5 minutes and he’s got the infinity stones and you know it’s the last time you’re going to see him and you cant decide what your next move is and you’re just frozen and you cant catch your breath and he snaps and your heart plummets

you have to rush to his side, the last time you can sit beside his tired body and let him know that its going to be okay

“hey dad, it’s okay, we’re gonna be fine. thank you for everything”

peter grabbing your hand as you both sobbed next to your dad, feeling robbed of your time with him

pepper brought you home where she told you all about the five years you missed

both of you just cried harder than you’ve ever cried before

“so i have a sister?”

morgan was so happy to meet you, she couldn’t contain herself, practically latched onto you

and she didn’t fully understand what happened to tony

you saw your new room for the first time and didn’t leave it for a while, occasionally pepper or morgan would pop in

morgan actually crawled into bed with you a few times

the funeral was one of the worst days of your life

the remnants of your young life pulled back together for one day

then you hid back in your room before you heard a knock

“who is it?”

“it’s happy”

“come in”

“hey, kiddo. me and morgan are gonna get some cheeseburgers, you wanna come?”

she really was a stark

after a long hibernation, you started to get back into the groove of your old life

but the press was brutal and harsh, you were bombarded with questions regarding your dad

it took everything not to explode on camera

you stayed in contact with the rest of the avengers, mourning your dead, keeping the support system, staying a family

it was all you could get...for now

[im-totally-not-an-alien]

Final Fantasy prompts #48

1. Jenova moms Cloud, but he doesn't realize it's Jenova.

Everyone else recognizes her in all her purple tentacly glory, but say nothing because Cloud hasn't looked this happy in years. Maybe its OK to let him live a lie, if only for a little while...

Also, they're kinda afraid of her

2. "Why do you live all the way out in the sticks?" Cid growled, munching on an unlit cigarette.

"Cause I can do this." He said, before whistling and promptly falling onto his back.

"What the hell are you even doing-" Cid began before they were both swarmed by dogs.

Big dogs, medium dogs, fluffy dogs, dogs with small tails so many dogs. Many of whom where licking the blonds face where he lay.

Aka Cloud owns a cabin in the woods for the sole purpose of getting swarmed by wild dogs and letting them lick his depression away.

3. Time traveler Cloud, but not quite.

Its a 12 year old escaped expirement created by fusing Clouds and Sephiroths DNA. S2, as he was labeled, kidnapped Cadet Cloud and kept the struggling blond with him as he traveled to the northern crater.

He keeps referring to Cloud as Mother and Sephiroth as Father, something that freaks Cloud out and made Sephiroth highly curious.

Upon closer inspection, the silverette saw peices of himself in the boy, in his eye shape, in his fighting style, and especially in his personality.

S2 dotes on his Mother, giving him everything he desires, everything but his freedom.

Cloud just has to get used to his life of semi-luxury...and being brodal carried by S2 and every gods damned SOLDIER he meets apparently.

4. RM Cloud wacking Sephiroth in the face with a broom. The silverette just stares at his puppet and says, "Really?"

5. Cloud finding Sephiroth in a moment of weakness and deciding a bit of revenge was in order.

6. Slightly unhinged time traveler Sephiroth x Slightly unhinged time traveler Cloud

7. Yuffie stalking different members of AVALANCHE out of boredom, only to wind up saving one of thier lives

8. Reeves Cait Sith dolls go rouge and declare war on the remaining SOLDIERS, believing that the living J cells in thier bodies were harming the planet.

Reeve doesn't want to hurt his sons. But Cloud has become something of a baby brother to him, and he would never forgive himself if something were to happen to the stubborn blond

9. Time traver Cloud coming to Aerith for advice after he lands, but she immediately sensed the Calamity from the Stars in him and started screaming bloody murder.

He had to fight Reno and Rude and easily defeated them, but by the time he was done, Aerith had escaped, leaving a confused and distraught blond.

He gives Reno an alias to protect his younger self and then promptly decides to GTFO.

Aerith winds up running into Tseng and Angeal, and she spills the beans about the Cetra and her heritage, as well as the Calamity and her child.

Angeal tries not to vibrate with excitement, after all, it looks like his lifelong dream of saving the world might be coming true. It seemed further reinforced by the fact the blond broke into the tower and freed several expiraments and killed many of the scientists. He was seen running off with a red lion-wolf creature before they lost track of him.

He, Aerith, Genesis, and Sephiroth wind up joining a party together to stop him. They essentially blackmailed the company to keep them off thier backs while they saved the world.

Cloud however, joined up with Nanaki and Vincent, but was also being targeted by the AVALANCHE of this time as well as thier own mad scientist, Fuhito, who's almost giddy that three of the esteemed professor Hojo's powerful expirements have escaped and are "Up for grabs"

Cloud may or may not also have a deal going with Jenova, who is offering him guidance with his new abilities as well as love. He knows she's manipulating him, but he feels so lost and vulnerable. He let her in and he wasn't even sure if he regrets it.

Also Jenova manipulating Sephiroth and his group by convincing them that she's "The Goddess Jenova" and revealed that she's Sephiroths mom. She convices them that the blond is evil and must be stopped. No one questions why she only speaks to them when Aerith is away.

Yeah, Clouds not having a good time. Kinda based off of another prompt of mine and I felt the need to expand on it. So, yeah.

10. The president, his son and the directors are killed off by Reeve, who has finally taken a stand and did a hostile takeover of the company.

11. Time traveler Reeve?

Better, Cait Sith gains sentience and time travels

12. Sephiroth revives again after the events of DeepGround and grabs up Cloud, embracing him like a lover as he flies into the air with him.

He basically tells Cloud that he's defeated him three times in a row, he's fascinated by him, and that Clouds going to be his bride.

Cloud is not okay with this

As it turns out, neither is Tifa, Clouds girlfriend.

The ensueing catfight is glorious

13. Cloud gets catcalled more often than anyone in thier little group. Apparently, he's a living creeper magnet, he couldn't tell you how many times people have just disregarded his personal space, bought him crap expecting a 'favor' in return, randomly touched his hair, bugged him for his number or a date, strait up tried to follow him home, ect.

The sheer entitlement both men and women seem to think they have over him is astounding. It's gotten to the point everyone has noticed and became protective of him. The blond himself? He's not afraid to make someone swallow thier teeth, regardless of gender.

14. Angeal loves photography, everyone knows that.

What people don't know is that he takes pictures of anything he deems beautuful. Birds, trees, flowers, clouds...406 pictures of the moon and even more of the stars. That was fine.

The problem arose when Genesis snooped through Angeals computer/apartment and found his secret photo collection. He swiped it and brought it to Sephiroths office to go through it with him.

Everything was normal, until they found a gorgeous picture of Genesis igniting his surroundings in flame.

Then they found some pics of Sephiroth standing in the moonlight with Masamune drawn. They were both extremely flattered by how lovely these were...until it got wierder. There were pictures of monsters, Cadets, Angeal's pup, Zack, several a few pictures of a blond trooper, an anthropomorphic cat with a cape and crown and...Turks?!

The worst part, however, was when they noticed that not a single person, not even themselves, where looking at the camera.

The fact they didn't remember having thier picture taken chilled them further.

Aka Angeal might have an addiction. Or an obsession.

15. Cloud has had a crush on Zack for a long time, but when Zack starts play flirting with him he thinks he has a chance and makes his move...and is promptly rejected.

Cloud plays it off as a joke and Zack buys it. The heartbroken blond finds a place to hide and quietly sob his eyes out.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, for him, he gets found and comforted by the Lord of Loveless himself, Genesis Rhapsodos.

Genesis had followed the subtle sounds of sorrow with the intention of either taunting the individual or reciting Loveless to them, as he adored a literal captive audience...but this...this was different.

He found himself rocking the pretty lovesick fool in his arms and mentally kicked himself for winding up in this situation.

On the other hand, he managed to score a date.

Bonus: Time traveler Sephiroth causing a scene by hard core flirting with CC Cloud and destroying a building and a man with a single swipe of Masamune, thus getting the attention of the entire Shinra army.

Fortunately the battle between the Sephiroths was cut short when Time traveler Cloud intervened with a spray bottle full of Aeriths holy water and essentially held him at gunpoint (spray bottle point?) as he retreated.

He fled before anyone could do much of anything, thus leaving everyone involved with so many unanswered questions.

[asthmark]

❝ ride ❞, m.l

[3:17 PM] where r u??

[3:18 PM] i just came out of 6th period. i'm in front of the school

[3:19 PM] hello??

[3:19 PM] wendy!!!!

[3:21 PM] jeez if ur not gonna pick me up u could at least text back :((

you press send and sigh, turning your phone off and sliding it into your pocket. you knew Wendy wasn't going to reply or pick you up (despite having promised to) anytime soon. it looked like you would be walking home. you had only been standing outside your school for a couple minutes but the sun had already let it's rays shine on you mercilessly.

the walk home was about half an hour. you were positive you were going to end up melting before you even got halfway there. you're just about to start the journey when a white Honda pulls up to the curb in front of you so slowly that it catches your attention. you freeze in your tracks, watching as the window rolls down even slower (you're almost positive it's for dramatic effect) to reveal who's in the driver's seat. 

sitting behind the wheel is none other than Mark Lee. new kid from Canada Mark Lee. always asking for a pencil in history class Mark Lee. 

"hi." he gives you a lop-sided grin. he's wearing a white tee under a flannel that fits him so loose he's left it completely unbuttoned. you also notice that underneath his cap (with the Canadian flag proudly displayed on it) his hair is now dark. did he dye it... black? that was new. you only ever saw Mark Lee in passing but you were used to the innocent, brunette look. this was bold... in a good way, of course. a really good way.

"hey," you respond, realizing you've spent far too long just observing him.

"um, Wendy had some sort of emergency—don't ask what it is because she didn't want to tell me. and i'm really good at bothering people until they give me an answer."

you snort. "well, i'm pretty good at blowing people's phones up until they text back yet here we are."

he chuckles. "i've been trusted with the task of driving you home. i'm Mark, by the way."

you bite back an 'i know'.

"you're Y/N, right?" he asks.

you nod. "that's me."

"cool. first name basis. we're officially not strangers anymore. now you can get in my car without it being weird."

you can't help but smile as you open the door to the passengers seat. "taking extra precautions, i see."

you buckle up and Mark takes the opportunity to readjust his hat, his fingers raking through his hair once. it has more of an effect on you than it should. "hey, i'm almost positive i got more manners than any other guy that's asking you to get into his car with him."

"does that mean you have experience when it comes to picking random girls up?" you ask, quirking a brow.

he giggles. you've heard it dozens of times in every class you had him in but this time you actually join him and laugh for yourself. "'course not! this is a favor." he stops at a red light and takes the moment to glance at you. "you know, i was happy, when Wendy told me it was you i would be picking up. actually... i was kind of, really excited."

you can't hold back your shock. "really? even though we've never actually had a proper conversation before today?"

he hums in confirmation. "yeah, i mean, i always see you around. you seem like fun. my type of girl." your heart speeds up at that. "besides, any friend of Wendy's must be mad chill."

"well, it's super nice of you to think that. if i were you, i would feel like i was missing out, if anything."

Mark furrows his eyebrows. "how come?"

"because Wendy is popular, dude. she's friends with all the cheerleaders and yearbook committee. you know, the important people. you could be driving Irene around right now instead of me. she's been nominated the visual of our school for three years in a row, you know."

Mark is so confused and expresses it by stuttering over his every word. "wh-okay, first of all, i don't even know who Irene is. second of all, i'm perfectly fine driving you around. i'm more than just fine, actually. i like you."

your eyes turn to him so quickly but before you can say anything, he continues. "you know because Wendy was one of my first friends here and she always talks about you! so, it's like we're already friends. we've just never actually talked so it feels good to finally put a face to a name. well, not that i don't already know what you look like. in fact, i think i look at you more than anyone else in any of my classes. not in a weird way! i just... get bored and you're nice to look at."

you stay quiet, focusing only at how Mark's hands grip the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white.

he cringed at the awkward silence that settles upon the car, inwardly beating himself up to letting his mini crush on you slip out like that. he'd probably already blown his chances with you before you even became friends. but then you speak up.

"i knew you stare at me in math class! i could feel it!" you exclaim and Mark is trapped between being confused or relieved. why did you sound... excited?

"wait, so you're not like, creeped out by me like, staring and stuff?"

"as long as you don't mind me staring back." Mark nearly chokes. "you can't possibly expect me not to, especially with that new hair of yours."

he smiles, widely. "you actually wanna stare at me?" his voice raises slightly higher, as he turns to face you, eyes filled with in hope.

"eyes on the road, oh my god!" you say, laughing when the car behind you honks in frustration at your lack of movement at a green light.

"oh, sorry!" he apologizes, despite knowing the driver won't hear him.

you shake your head, smile still prominent on your face. "you're so cute, Mark," you say, as an afterthought, not expecting him to hear it.

he does. and the car swerves out of its lane, Mark exclaiming, "you think i'm cute?!"

you cling to your seat as the car moves, wildly. "tell you what, if you get me to my house in one piece, i promise we'll go out on a date or something right after but please just don't crash, bro."

Mark's eyes light up at the word "date" and you end up going even faster than before.

##bonus: 

"there you are!" 

Wendy looks up from her phone, smiling as she watches you and Mark approach her, seeming very close to each other. "here i am! looks like having Mark pick you up wasn't my worst decision yet, hm?" 

you just shrug and Mark wets his lips, before he speaks. "probably your best idea yet." he smiles when you playfully bump his arm with your own. 

"actually, i've been meaning to ask; what was that emergency you had to get to anyway?" you ask, folding your arms beneath your chest. 

it's almost comical how fast Wendy's face changes. her jaw drops slightly and her eyes dart around, uncomfortably. "oh, um, i felt super duper sick. went straight home and took a nap." 

"uh huh," you say, nodding as if you believe the lie. "is that why you had sent me over twenty texts and tried to call me three times as soon as i told you Mark had dropped me off?"

"i wanted to see how it went! sheesh, you set someone up and this is how they repay you." she rolls her eyes, obviously not noticing how she gave herself away. 

"set someone up?" Mark repeats acting confused. he faces you. "Y/N, i think someone's been playing cupid." 

"i think so, Mark. i didn't think you could play cupid when you were 'super duper' sick," you respond, tapping your chin, dramatically. 

Mark chuckles at the way you effortlessly play along so well with his jokes and you copy him, giggling yourself.  

"oh no," Wendy groans, watching you two laugh like dorks. "they're a match made in heaven." 

[bloodys44]

Silence and Cigarette Smoke

Original story and bonus content found here! ↓↓↓↓

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13289933/3/Silence-and-Cigarette-Smoke

Unfortunately it seems FF.net is having some technical errors and new chapter updates are only viewable through the app. I will continue to repost in hopes it will be available for everyone soon! Chapter 7 is viewable through the app and everything up to chapter 6 is online. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 3: The Dragons Birthday

Lucy’s POV

788

She always thought he looked the best while asleep. Mind caught up in a dream, unfocused to the world around him. The way his bare chest shuddered on every exhale. The stark white of the scars littered over his tan skin. There was never a time he looked more relaxed, his sharp facial features losing their regular heated mark. He was in every aspect, simply beautiful. Once her blurry vision had focused on him, she'd been utterly captivated. And now, with him laying so nonchalant atop her blue pleated comforter she took the time to soak him in. It was rare for a moment of peace to present itself in their chaotic lives. Sometimes she felt stuck in a constant state of running. And tiring as it was, she had never felt such happiness. It was almost funny, she thought. How she had been humored by Lissana's words the day she had met her. All her preaching about how she owed this man her entire life. And to think now, she felt almost the same. She really did owe him the world, for he was the one to actually give her one.Three years had passed since Natsu had rescued her from the forest and brought her to Fairy Tail. Taken her hand and led her step by step through his exciting life. Teaching her the unspoken rules of the enchanted world. The guild really was a dream, giving her a place to live and grow in exchange for work. Everybody had a simple job they worked while at home. Natsu for instance, worked the front guard line, scouting the edge of their safety enchantments for trespassers and unwanted visitors. When he wasn't out scouting, he stood watch in one of the three stone lookout towers. It made sense, given he had uncanny senses and tracking abilities. Lucy found herself taking shifts in the constantly busy infirmary alongside Lissana and her sister Mirajane. It was pleasant work, a good distraction from day to day life. But it was when they left the guild that the real adventure began. Fairy Tail (along with other guilds in the network) took job and quest submissions from trusted or other magic folks. They ranged from simple things such as retrieval of objects or escorting people during their travels, all the way to clearing out dark guilds and the slaying of demons. Natsu had been gracious enough to form a team with her, working alongside her to complete jobs. They truly had become an inseparable force over the last few years.Lucy set the plate she had been carrying on the side table by her bed before moving to lean against the end of her mattress. Natsu twitched slightly in his sleep but didn't wake, instead rubbing the underside of his nose against the back of his wrist. She snickered lightly, brushing golden locks from her view. She still found it hard to believe the man in front of her, sleeping so silent, was actually an unmatched powerhouse of magical energy. A dragon slayer, so he was called. An extremely rare form of magic, bestowed by the dragons themselves to aid the humans in their war against the 'white witch' hundreds of years prior. The rarity stemmed from the fact that these commanding creatures no longer existed, wiped out by the very magic they had gifted the humans. Thus earning the 'slayer' term. In the current day, dragon-slaying magic was passed down through bloodlines, slowly dwindling downwards to nothing. Natsu claimed he remembered nothing of his parents, choosing to never speak about them or anything else regarding his past. This sat just fine with Lucy, considering her home life wasn't much more uplifting. An abusive father, drunk with power. So consumed in his self-preservation he elected to wipe out a quarter of the population in fear of them uprising. Jealous of the power swimming through their veins. Even going as far as to execute his beloved Queen and daughter for their enchanted blood.Her mother had always whispered of the beauty that came with their magic. The glow of the gods she called it. And translated directly, it sort of was. Celestial magic rumoured to have been created directly by the gods for a historical gracious Queen. The only enchantment to possess such a warm golden hue, literal stardust drifting from fingertips. Natsu had gone out of his way train with her while she learned her capabilities. Even (much to his distaste) spending hours upon hours scanning over ancient books and text, looking for answers to explain her mysterious powers. There was extremely little known about celestial magic. Its rather small royal bloodline being the only people able to wield the starlight. After three years of constant work, Lucy believed she was rather proficient in its use, though she could never be completely sure. As special as it was, being enchanted with such abilities it was also rather frightening, to say the least. With rarity came obsession. Many stories existing of the pursuit of celestial mages, desire for their uncapped power. The story goes that besides their own magical abilities, celestial mages can greatly increase magical energy with a single drop of their blood. Their blood is said to taste like pure ecstasy. Mages go insane after a single drop, drunk on the taste. Natsu had told her. The thought always made her stomach turn.Lucy huffed, shaking her head to dismiss her thoughts. Today was supposed to be a happy day, she couldn't let her self get caught up over nothing. Sliding the light grey flats off her stocking covered feet, she pulled herself completely up on the mattress. It was a pleasant Tuesday morning, the sun soaking through the aged glass of the windowpane. Her room taking on a rosy hue as the light bent with the lace of her pink curtains. Her room was small (as were most of the dorms in Fairy Tail were) but she loved it just the same. Her bed was pressed against the far right corner, mirroring a birch desk placed at the conjunction of the other. It, currently serving as the sleeping place for a bizarre blue cat, napping happily, wound up in scaled white fabric. She had a small overstuffed closet at the foot of her bed and an ensuite adjacent to the grand door leading to the hallway of other rooms. It was her safe place, a real home to relax and be herself in. The old walls speaking for previous guild members long passed. The only thing was, that she more often than not had to share with an intruding pyromaniac. Whether that was a negative or bonus she never could decide. She crawled towards the unsuspecting male, strung out over the bedding in his sleeping state. Taking perch beside his head, she pulled her knees to her chest. Her wrist flicking outwards slightly as she moved to wake him. It almost felt criminal, pulling him from his peaceful slumber, but she was too excited, not wanting to wait any longer. She dusted her fingers over his forehead, moving the displaced pink tendrils from his closed eyes. The light touch was enough to sway him from his dreams, grimacing as he squinted one eye open."Good Morning birthday boy." Lucy smiled sweetly, running her fingers through his fringe once again before pulling back. She wrapped her arms around her folded knees, watching as the tired man before rubbed his eyes. "Bout time you joined the land of the living.""Birthday boy?" Natsu questioned, his voice raspy, rugged with sleep. "Lucy, you know I don't know when my birthday is." He shoved his elbow under himself clumsily, sliding his body to more of a sitting position against the headboard. An exaggerated yawn flashing his pointed canines."I know." The words a sweet hum over her lips. "And every year I tell you, everyone deserves a birthday, and that you should just pick a day to celebrate."Natsu was smirking now, his expression slowly coming together as he woke. "And every year I tell you it's not important, and that you're crazy.""You celebrate my birthday every year, what's the difference?" She questioned playfully."I dunno, just different cause it's you."Lucy tried to ignore the heat that was surely blooming over her pale cheeks, tossing her bangs to the side with a sway of her neck. "Stop being so modest you stupid dragon, you're just as important as anyone else and deserve a day dedicated to you just the same." Natsu rolled his eyes at her, earning a swat to his shoulder. "Since you never pick a day, I've taken the initiative of picking for you.""And today made the cut?" He joked, fingers twisting upwards to toy with a strand of her golden hair."It's the first day of summer." She rushed out with slight embarrassment. "I thought it was fitting considering your name."Natsu snorted, mumbling something along the lines of 'cute' before pushing himself upright into a complete sitting position. He glanced to the side, noticing the small plate Lucy had put down earlier. He spun his head back towards her, eyebrow raised curiously. "Did you really bake me a cake?" She had, in fact, baked him a cake. Lucy nodded sheepishly, feeling the heat in her cheeks expand down her chest. It was nothing special, a miniature loaf that resembled more of an oversized muffin than an actual cake. To be fair, it had only been her second attempt at baking. She had considered asking Mira to make one for him, but she was away on work with her younger brother Elfman and her husband Laxus. Leaving Lucy to her own devices. Her first attempt had left the guilds mess hall a smoky mess and resulted in something unedible. Her second attempt had actually tasted pretty good despite its appearance. She had iced it in fluffy yellow icing, a baby blue branding of '22' crowning the top."You think I'm twenty-two?" He questioned again, his voice more steady than his earlier playfulness. His fingers continuing to loop over her flaxen strands."Well nobody knows your actual age, so I had to make an educated guess." She huffed in response.Natsu chuckled slightly, wrapping his arm around the blonde and pulling her into his bare chest roughly. "You're probably right, as per usual." Lucy tried to scramble against him but was held firm between his rippling arms. He slid one upwards, wrapping it around her neck pulling her into him further His chin nestled in her flaxen tendrils "Thanks, Luce, you really are the best." His lips brushing just slightly over her temple as he spoke. The touch so light she wasn't sure if there was really any contact or if she was reacting to his unusually hot breath against her fair skin.She loved moments like this. When the loud-mouthed, cocky, and rather brash man spoke in gentle tones. It was such a contrast to his typical over-excited nature. It may be selfish on her part, but she loved that this side of him was private, only sneaking up when the boy felt truly comfortable. It wasn't that he was typically exhausting, in fact, he had matured greatly over the years. But she had yet to witness him speak so calmly to another, the constant rigidness in his shoulders lacking in moments like this. It made her feel special, like she really was important to somebody. Not that she could ever deserve somebody as special as him. Somebody who lived their life completely for those surrounding him."We should hurry up and head down to the hall, Lissana's been cooking breakfast for us all morning." Natsu nodded in response, sliding himself off the cotton sheets with another exaggerated yawn. He flung his arms above his head, stretching out his previously coiled limbs. Lucy watched absentmindedly as his taut muscles strained under the spance of his tan skin, moving in sync with his smooth rhythm. He slipped a black hoodie over his head, sliding it painfully slow over his ridged abdomen. Sometimes Lucy liked to believe he showed off on purpose, maybe hoping to get her flustered for his own entertainment. He side-stepped into the ensuite, rummaging around in cabinets before his head popped back out of the doorframe. He looked slightly dishevelled, toothbrush hanging from his perfectly placed teeth. Lucy couldn't help but giggle at his curious expression, already knowing what he was about to ask before he even started speaking."I think Lissana tried to make all your favorites." Natsu nodded excitedly, darting back through the frame to continue cleaning up for the day. She swore there was nothing in this world that got him more excited than food tended too.The walk to the mess hall was pleasant, small talk mixing with their echoed footsteps on stone. Fairy Tail had taken residence in a long-abandoned castle on the outskirts of the supposedly haunted forest. Encased in hills of sprawling green, plenty of room for its members to train and spend their leisure time. A safe and beautiful space hidden so casually within the modern world, at least, thanks to the protective charms cast over the vicinity. The castle and grounds were un-seeable by the normal eye, only appearing if you knew what to look for. Most common folk would have their mind altered slightly on approach, causing them to reroute their current path. But on occasion, people have still managed to slip in, mostly lost children who's pure hearts wanted only a family or somewhere safe to rest. But there had been cases of well-skilled mages slipping through. One's like their friend Erza who possessed an enchantment cancelling eye. That's where Natsu and the other's on watch and guard duty came into place, silently protecting the livelihoods of so many. Their Headmaster was always very adamant in the safety of his 'children', so he called them. Always making sure the proper steps were taken. This was something Lucy very much appreciated, almost considering the man to be her replacement father figure."Hey wait, let's step outside quick." Natsu mumbled, grasping the side of her arm and guiding her over to one of the numerous balconies. He pushed the enormous oak doors open with ease, practically leaping out to bask in the sun rays."You really are like a salamander sometimes," Lucy scoffed playfully, commenting on his community dubbed nickname. Mages were generally very secretive about their identities, even with mages of other guilds. Understandably wanting to avoid attention from the crown. But Natsu seemed to have a knack for attention, or rather, for destruction which typically caused a lot of notice from townsfolk. The population of Fiore deciding on the name 'Salamander' for their rampant arsonist. Natsu snorted, retaliating by ruffling her hair aggressively. He then spun the other way, practically flopping against the wall with an exhale. He reached behind his gold decorated ear to remove a cigarette from its resting place. Lighting the tip of his finger with a hypnotizing flame. "I really wish you would drop that awful habit." Lucy nagged, crossing her arms slowly. "You're going to cause your own early death."As per usual Natsu looked at her like she was crazy. "You do realize I breathe fire right? Smoke it practically oxygen for me."Lucy simply shook her head, not wanting to get into their usual child-like argument about the safety of smoking. "You know Mira would agree with me." She teased."I know Mira isn't my mother, so does it really matter?" He smirked, pulling a long drag and blowing the stream into the blonde's face. She swatted at the smoke angrily, muttering under her breath about her immaculate ability to deal with morons. She turned and stepped out slowly to the edge of the castle balcony, draping her arms over the stone railing. The weather was spectacular today, the sky clear and the air surrounding them was warm and comforting. The clouds silently wishing them well with their day."I was thinking," The blonde hummed, turning back to face her pink-headed partner "We could take a job request today. Birthday boy gets to pick? Maybe Happy would even want to tag along."Natsu beamed at her, exhaling a grey cloud. "Sounds like a plan Blondie."Eventually, Natsu finished hacking away at his cigarette, giving his body a final long stretch under the sun before motioning for them to return indoors. Thankfully he seemed to be the only man Lucy had ever met that never reeked of the poison smoke. (or she liked to call it) His typical earthy scent mixed with a hint of mint and cinnamon seemed to repel all foreign smells. The remaining walk to the mess hall was quiet, the two simply comfortable in the silence of the other. At least it started that way, interrupted only by Natsu's sharp inhale as he broke out in short fits of laughter. Lucy turned to him, gawking slightly at his strange behavior while she waited for him to catch his breath. They were only about a floor away from the hall, the castle being as obnoxious as it was, took a while to navigate through."A surprise party? You really pulled all the stops hey?" Natsu mused, turning his shit-eating grin to face her. She looked absolutely baffled, her pace coming to a complete stop. This only caused Natsu to laugh harder, clutching his sides with amusement. "Did you forget about my incredibly awesome superhuman senses?" He bragged playfully. "I can hear everybody down there running amuck trying to get everything together." Lucy's expression faltered slightly. Really, who could blame her for forgetting one of his hundreds of bizarre quirks. A pout started to work its way to her plump lips. Instantly Natsu cut off his laughter, moving to stand right in front of her. "Aweh come on Luce, it's not ruined yet, promise." She scoffed slightly, swatting at his arm. "I'll even pretend to be surprised, since you worked so hard n' all." Lucy only grabbed his hand, shaking her head slightly. Of course he would react that way, selflessly cheering her up at the slightest bit of disappointment. Even on his own birthday.When they arrived at the doorway, the hall echoed with its silence. Clearly, the other guild members had found an adequate hiding place. Natsu cast her his infamous smirk before pushing the doors open, and (rather skillfully she might add) gave off his best-surprised reaction to the other members jumping out, cheering his name. It didn't take much to rile up the other members, they were always ready for any sort of celebration. The mere mention of alcohol sparking the interest in most of them. Besides that, there seemed to be a collective amount of appreciation for Natsu among them. Either a family-style bond or respect collected over the years. Even in some cases, complete loving adoration. The latter of which currently on display as Lissana latched herself onto the man, wrapping him into a soft embrace."Happy birthday Natsu-san." She cooed into his ear, gripping the man tighter. Natsu returned the compassion with ease, thanking her for all her work in the kitchen this morning. They looked fitting together, at least in Lucy's opinion. Although, that didn't mean she was very fond of watching them. In fact, she found it rather stomach-turning. Watching as Lissana openly strung herself all over him to no avail. It wasn't that she hated Lissana either, the girl being exceptionally kind-hearted and sweet. A genuine soul. Not to mention she was one of the prettiest women Lucy had ever seen, possibly rivaled only by that of her older sister. She wasn't sure exactly what it was, the feeling in her gut when she watched them together. The glorious smile that Natsu always wore around her gave nothing but an uneasy feeling. This, of course, had nothing to do with the maddening crush she had on the man. No, it most certainly didn't."You're staring." A whisper fell over her shoulder, startling her. She tossed her head quickly, scanning her peripheral for the intruder. Levy McGarden. An extremely petite and slender woman. Her eyes playful while she teased. The blue strands of her hair tied back by a golden ribbon strapped across the top of her skull in its usual fashion. It just so happened that this literature-loving book worm was Lucy's best friend (besides Natsu, of course). "If it bothers you so much, why don't you just tell him?"The blonde stared at her friend with wide eyes, progressively more startled than before. "It's not like that! We're just friends!" She defended breathlessly. "How many times do I need to repeat myself? You and Mira are going to give me a stroke." She slumped over the counter of the bar she was currently seated at with a huff.Levy lifted her brow in a mocking manner, chuckling before taking a seat at the bar beside Lucy. "Whatever you say Lu." She teased further before letting her expression fall back to normal. "This party really is nice though, you outdid yourself this time for sure." Lucy nodded slowly, spinning on her stool to take in the atmosphere. The morning was still fairly young for a typical party in her opinion, but she had really wanted to spend the evening working on a job request with the birthday boy. After some convincing, she had managed to get the rest of the members to agree with the morning time frame. The hall was decorated in a beach style theme (this being the only way to incorporate burning tiki torches, a strange favorite of the pink-haired male). Strings of flowers spiraled the stone columns in a variety of color. All the members seemed to match, flower wreaths hung around their throats in the same manner. The overly grand hall taking on a more cozy interior. Even the enormous stained windows had banners plastered to their panes. Celebration wishes printed on the fabric. Everybody had woken up super early to pitch in, getting everything set up without a hitch. Smiles and laughter mixed together creating a pleasant feeling. Kinship and happiness coated over the walls. Even Gray, the ever stoic had cracked a smile. Bickering with Natsu while holding on to his prized possession Juvia. Though he had yet to admit it, his feelings for the blue-haired, eclectic water woman were growing to become glaringly obvious."It really is nice." Lucy hummed softly. "It's a shame nobody ever thought to celebrate his birthday before. Hasn't he been a member for a long while now?"Levy nodded happily. "I think Gildarts found him when he was about twelve or thirteen, I mean if he really is twenty-two like you guessed."Lucy let out another breathy hum, turning away from the crowd to face her friend once again. "Does anybody really know about his life before Gildarts found him? He never talks about his past.""I suppose that makes sense." Levy folded her arms casually, balancing her chin in her palm. "As rambunctious as he is, I think Natu's a little more reserved about his life on purpose. He really never talks about his opinions or feelings even, unless it's regarding a fight." She giggled lightly. "I think if he were to open up to anybody, it would probably be you Lu."Lucy turned her head back towards the crowd, scanning over the bodies in search of him once again. A gentle maybe falling from her lips, her mind more focused on its hunt. She locked eyes with him from across the hall and couldn't help but smile brightly when he started making his was towards her."Happy birthday Natsu." Levy chimed on his approach. He beamed at her, letting a string of smoke leak between his teeth while he thanked her. "Didn't Lucy outdo herself with this party?" She smirked, nudging her blonde best friend who rolled her eyes and groaned internally."She really did." Natsu agreed eagerly, wrapping his arm around Lucy's shoulder to pull her into half a hug. "Aren't I spoiled?""Maybe a little." Levy jested, poking his chest playfully. Lucy wasn't really sure how the rest of the conversation played out, instead focusing on the radiant cake Lissana was currently wheeling out from the kitchen. Not that she would ever mention it, but when comparing this to the strangled looking muffin she had presented to him earlier, she was slightly offended for her own creation."Time to make a wish Natsu-san!" Lissana called softly, pushing the platter in front of him. Natsu closed his eyes in thought before leaning forward to blow out the red candles splattered over the layers, and Lucy couldn't help but smile with the rest of the group. It was just so nice, seeing the boy that always made sure everyone else was doing okay, actually have a moment for himself. Taking a second out of his hectic life to celebrate his very existence. Smiling and cheerful surrounded by his makeshift family. A moment of true happiness. If the remaining day's of her life were at least half as good, Lucy thought she could consider herself lucky.The morning had begun to drift away slowly, the party winding down accordingly. Everybody needing to get to work and begin their day to day routine. The hall progressively becoming more silent. Lucy was busy clearing empty bottles and glasses from a table when she regarded a comforting heat creep over her shoulder. "Did you pick a job yet?" She cooed at her partner, noting his presence without a need to visually see him."Of course." Lucy fluttered her lashed quickly when a flyer was held in front of her sightline, his arm stretching over the top of her head. She squinted slightly, reading the print of the request carefully. The job was nothing out of the ordinary, a group of bandits disturbing the peace of a small town a short train ride away. They only needed to find their base, possibly ruffle them up a little and get them to vacate the premises. "Did you catch that reward?" He presses, stepping around her to face her. She grabbed the flyer from his extended palm, narrowing down on the fine print. The cash reward was rather minimal compared to the requests they usually accepted. She raised a brow at him over the edge of the page and he smirked, telling her to keep reading. Her irises flashed back over the text, blowing wide when she read the final sentence. One first edition copy of Queen Anna Heartfilia's uncensored oral history on celestial magic. "She's probably your great grandmother or something hey? Natsu asked cheerfully, studying her reaction. "I figure we might find something new the other books missed." She could feel the beat of her heart quicken with excitement. Information on celestial magic was insanely hard to find, and to find something created by one of her ancestors was completely unheard of. A once in a lifetime opportunity."Is this really the job you want to take? Today's about you, we don't need to take this for me.""Consider it a thank you for everything you did for me today." Natsu beamed at her, and she couldn't help but return the smile back at him. How lucky was she that this selfless man just so happened to be her best friend. She let out a breathy okay, wrapping the fire-breather in a tight hug. He chuckled at her, grasping her shoulders and holding her a step back to meet her gaze. "I have one more favor though," She nodded slowly, smirking back at the man. "You gotta share this with me before we head out." He reached behind him, grasping a plate he must have placed down earlier. The miserable excuse of a cake she had made for him presented before her.She almost broke out in a fit of laughter, needing to take a moment to catch her breath and calm herself. "You don't need to eat that, Lissana made you a much better one.""Ya, but you made this one." He deadpanned, looking at her curiously. Her cheeks were definitely inflamed, the heat brushing its way down her throat and over her collar bones. If it was possible, her heart rate doubled over its already quickened pace. "Plus," he continued while taking a large bite, "It tastes so fucking good." He laughed warmly, offering a bite in her direction. She joined him with her own fit of giggles, perching herself on one of the hall's benches to share the rest of the desert with him.They ate quickly, sharing their excitement over the new job. Lucy practically gushing over the fact that a book of that stature even existed. No matter her effort, she couldn't contain the smile cemented over her lips."What are you two up to for the rest of the day?" Lissana's cheerful tone carried over, pulling them out of their fixated trance. She had cleaned herself up after the party, draping herself in a summer yellow fitted sundress. It ruffled out over her hips, only accentuating her perfect curves more so. Her white locks pulled back with a pearled clip. Lucy was almost annoyed at her for simply looking like herself, completely void of any flaws."Just heading out for a job," Natsu responded, sliding over to let her take a seat beside him."Oh, that sounds like such fun! I haven't been out in ages." She wined graciously. "I was going to wait for Mira and Elman to return, but it's been almost a month, I'm not sure when they'll be back." She folded her slender fingertips over the edge of the table, leaning in slightly as she spoke. "Would either of you mind if I tagged along? I've been working on this new spell and I'm just dying to try it out!"Natsu glanced towards Lucy, trying to gauge her reaction. The blonde just shrugging at him, leaning back against the bench. She was silently hoping he turned her away, the selfish side of her wanting to spend the next few days with just each other. And happy (Natsu's royally annoying blue flying cat), of course. "Ah sure Lissana," Natsu sputtered, still trying to read the blonde. "The more the merrier I suppose."The fairy-like woman practically sprung out of her seat. Perfect dazzling teeth on show as she glanced back at them over her shoulder. "Oh, fantastic! I can't wait!" She mused, heading off towards the hall exit in a hurry. "I'll just head up and pack real quick!"Natsu flashed an awkward smile back at Lucy, shifting to lean over the table towards her. "Cheer up Luce, this could be fun if you let it. Next job will just be us, sound good?" She nodded back at him, groaning internally before heading up to her own room to gather her things together. It was strange, adding her to the equation. It was always just her and Natsu that went on jobs. Even Gray dropped in from time to time. But it was never Lissana. She knew that it shouldn't matter all that much. Lissana was an amazing person and a fairly good mage in her own right. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she knew jealousy was the only thing she had against the girl. To her knowledge, Natsu had never reciprocated the girl's advances and constant pining. He was also his own person, his decisions didn't need to compensate for her own muddled feelings. All she knew, was that this was going to be a really long trip.

Again, check out the full story here! ↓↓↓↓

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13289933/3/Silence-and-Cigarette-Smoke

[cagestark]

Prompt; ABO Starker getting together but Tony is the omega and Peter is the alpha. Peter is still head over heels, star struck, hero worship over Tony and calling him 'sir' and 'mr. Stark' and blushing wherever Tony gives him attention and praise. Maybe it all comes to a head when Tony goes into heat? Maybe Peter's first rut is triggered by Tony teasing him mercilessly? Bonus points for eager-to-please Peter

Darling anon, this isn’t really what you asked for. I’m so sorry. I hope this is at least acceptable, and if you are very upset, please come back into my inbox and I’ll rework this. For now. Take it!

Warnings: ABOverse. Alpha Peter, Omega Tony. Smut. 8.5k

Read here on AO3!

Peter is reaching with his fork for the last arancini when another fork intercepts. The metal on metal screeches as Peter’s fork is pinned to the plate just short of the last rice ball. Peter eyes the hand holding the fork—tanned, knuckles singed—and then follows it up the arm, bare, sprinkled with dark hair interrupted by the odd, pink scar. Before he even reaches the well-shaped facial hair, Peter is flushed, withdrawing his fork. Tony is wearing his glasses tonight, the lenses tinted a light blue.

“Put down the fork and nobody has to get hurt,” Tony says. He keeps his voice a low, conspiratorial rumble that can just barely be heard over the ruckus of general conversation from the rest of the Avengers around the table.

Slowly, Peter puts his fork down beside his half-eaten plate of osso buco, then lifts his hands to shoulder height, palms open. “My hands are where you can see them,” Peter says. He lets his voice tremble. “The rice ball is yours. But please don’t take the rest of the prosciutto. Have mercy.”

Tony spears the arancini and delivers it to his own plate for safe keeping, a bear hoarding food for the winter. “Bold of you to assume I’m capable of mercy, Peter Pan. And to add insult to injury—” Tony slips the last few slices of dry-cured ham bliss to take up cozy residence beside the rest of his food. Peter clutches at his heart, face twisted in pain.

“God, you two are like a two-man theatre troupe,” Natasha remarks over her third glass of wine. She’s just beginning to look flushed. Peter had asked for his own glass (“Come on, I’m eighteen, not eight!”) but to no avail. “Does that make seconds for you, Tony?”

“Thirds,” Bucky mutters. He hasn’t recovered from the spaghetti alla carbonara massacre of thirty minutes ago. If Peter didn’t know how well the ex-assassin got along with Tony, he might try to convince the older man to sleep with one eye open. Bucky certainly had the whole casually-planning-your-murder-over-trivial-offenses aesthetic going on. Peter wondered if that was something teachable—did they have a wikiHow article for that?

“It’s that time of the year,” Tony says. Despite how much he’s eaten, he still goes about the food on his plate in a methodical, prim manner: cutting it into bite-sized pieces, making sure no foods touch. “Jarvis tracks my eating habits and BMI, and he says both are on the upswing. I’ve got about two weeks left.”

“Two weeks until what?” Peter asks.

Tony gives him a bald and unashamed look. “Until my heat, kid.”  

“Oh,” Peter says, hoping his face isn’t as red as it feels. He’s got permanent foot-in-mouth disease whenever he’s within twenty feet of the omega. Of course, Tony is talking about his heat. Why else would he be eating enough for three?

“I thought you took heat suppressants,” Natasha remarks. This kind of talk—heats, suppressants—it usually isn’t table conversation. Most omegas consider it the ultimate social faux paus. Maybe Tony does too, Peter wonders. Maybe spending so much time in the public eye has chipped away at the wall between what he wants to keep to himself and what he has to share with others.

“For the spring heat,” Tony agrees, a hand resting on his gently distended stomach. The sight of that tickles something in the back of Peter’s brain—something in there itches, but he can’t find it, can’t scratch it. “But at my age, the suppressants don’t synthesize with my biology as well. Doc told me it is actually safer for me to go through every other heat au naturale. Which makes for an interesting fall season. At least I can hide the extra weight with all those winter scarves the board keeps giving me for Christmas—”

“You look great,” Peter says. He tries hard not to openly wince. Everyone else at the table does their best to pretend they hadn’t heard him.  

Tony’s smile is soft, maybe even a little flattered. He winks. “Thanks, Peter Pan. Nice to know someone around here still thinks I’ve got it.”

Oh, you’ve got it alright, Peter thinks helplessly. Probably couldn’t lose it even if you tried.

“Isn’t it dangerous to go through your heats without suppression?” Bruce asks.

“We’ve weighed the pros and cons. Calculated risks, Brucie, that’s the name of the game.”

“You know what all of this means?” Steve asks. Beside him, Bucky stiffens. The only other male omega—in the room and in the Avengers—he is not nearly as comfortable with his designation as Tony. Peter can hardly blame him when a part of him is still stuck in the 40’s when omegas were marketed as good for nothing but breeding and housewife fodder. With most heats coming twice a year, in the beginning and at the end, surely Bucky’s is approaching also— “Tiramisu is in order.”

Bucky relaxes. Tony perks up. Peter’s stomach grumbles—even after his own generous helpings.

“Cap, that’s the best idea you’ve had since—well—an hour ago, when you suggested Italian. All for tiramisu?”

A cluster of forks rise into the air.  

-

“Jarvis?”

“Yes, sir?”

“The kid. He’s a beta, right?”

“He has not presented otherwise.”

“That’s not exactly an answer, is it?”

“…”

“J?”

“I believe he is a beta, sir.”

“Your confidence is downright stirring, J.”

“Always a pleasure to give, sir.”

-

“I mean, it’s not unheard of, right?” Peter asks. He is sandwiched between Ned and MJ on his bed in his room at the tower. It was just another benefit of joining the Avengers: a fancy new room on the Avengers’ floor, coffee with Captain America in the morning and eating peanut butter out of the jar with Natasha at night. The bed is huge—and okay, maybe he’s still just used to the twin he occupied at May’s, but it’s still nice to fit all of his friends on it at once to watch movies on the mounted television. “Relationships. Between betas and omegas.”

MJ gives a longsuffering sigh, one which makes Peter frown. Yeah, they’ve had this conversation a few (million) times before, but she could at least humor him, couldn’t she? “Stark is a male omega. They’re super fucking rare, Peter. Alphas literally kill over omegas. The competition for him even if he wasn’t Earth’s Greatest Defender and a fucking billionaire—it’s extensive. Why would he choose you when he could find a dozen beefy Captain-esque alphas to satisfy his biology?”

“Okay. But. It’s not impossible, right? That’s what I’m hearing. That it’s not impossible.”

“Mr. Stark would be lucky to have Peter,” Ned says. “I mean, yeah he’s not as buff as Captain America. Yeah he doesn’t have pheromones that attract Tony on, like, a biological level. And okay, he does snore. A lot. But—”

“Thanks, Ned,” Peter grumbles. “You make me sound like a real catch.”

“You are!” Ned insists. He actually takes his eyes off of A New Hope where Princess Leia is ghostly in blue, insisting that Obi-Wan Kenobi is her only hope. “You think any of those knotheads out there can keep up with Mr. Stark in the workshop? And look at my parents. They’re both omegas. It’s not all pheromones, it’s—it’s chemistry.”

A slow smile creeps over Peter’s face. Ned and MJ create the perfect balance of unending optimism and brutal realism. In their own ways, both are looking out for him, and he knows that they want the best for him. Even if what MJ says hurts. Even if what Ned says hurts too, just in a different, softer way. One gives him the seed of hope, and the other gives him the trellis that keeps him stuck in place, terrified to make a move.

It’s balance.

-

Things get strange for Peter in the weeks before Tony’s heat. He attributes it to the poor weather, and MJ helpfully says that Mercury is entering its retrograde, so apparently that explains how these days his temper is short when usually his fuse is long enough for two. Even the other Avengers seem to take notice of his volatile mood, giving him a wide berth.

The only person with whom things don’t change is Tony. Around the omega, Peter is his normal blushing mess, though he does try hard to go out of his way to make things easier for the man. In school he learned how stressful an omega’s heat is: a week to two weeks of mindlessness while their biology urges them to breed. It can be unbearable without heat suppressants—

—or without a partner. Does Tony have someone to weather the worst of his heat with? Other omegas to scent and comfort him? An alpha to knot him?

The glass Peter is holding shatters in his hand. Orange juice soaks him, stinging the cuts in his palm. Beside him, Sam shouts an oath, grabbing his plate of pancakes to keep them out of the line of citrus fire. The rest of the table is silent, a dozen pairs of eyes watching him. It makes Peter’s blood boil—why are they staring at him this way? He’s fucking superhuman. He broke dozens of glasses when he first gained his powers until he acclimated to his enhanced strength. Accidents happen.

“Hey, it’s fine,” Tony mutters from over his shoulder. Peter can’t smell it—as a beta, his nose is unsophisticated, unable to pick up pheromones—but he imagines that the man is scenting him, calm waves like the ocean dragging at the shore. A hand comes out, nudges Peter’s soaked plate (rest in peace, crepes) back, and the begins to carefully maneuver the largest shards of glass into his palm.

Peter grabs his wrist with the hand that isn’t dripping blood onto the table. “Do not touch the glass.”

It comes out much firmer than he intended it to, like there is someone else controlling his voice. He’s never heard himself sound like that before. It clearly has an effect on Tony who opens his hand, glass falling back to the table, wrist going lax and pliant in Peter’s grip.

“Hey,” Steve says. “It’s alright—”

“Mind your business,” Peter says through his teeth. There’s tension in the air, especially between him and Steve now, who is posturing at the end of the table, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Then it all comes in focus to him: he’s making a fucking scene, here. He is holding Tony’s wrist, commanding him, like Peter is some sort of alpha. He yelled at Captain America. It’s fresh. It’s disrespectful. His whole face goes red and he stands so abruptly that he nearly knocks over Tony who is behind him.

Then he turns and sprints from the room, leaving blood drops behind him like a breadcrumb trail. In his room, he goes into the adjoining bathroom and runs water over his aching palm. The cuts are trying to seal around the glass, but he doesn’t even feel the pain. Grasping the shards with his fingers is easy thanks to his enhanced grip. Someone knocks on his bedroom door, but Peter ignores it. After a while, the knocking stops.

Peter sulks for nearly thirty minutes before his manners outweigh his misery. The cuts on his palm are just raw looking scars now, but he knows they will disappear soon too. Taking a deep breath, he steels himself before leaving his room.

Breakfast is finished. The room is filled with the sound of plates being scraped clean and stacked beside the sink, chairs being pushed in at the table. Someone has cleaned up the glass and the orange juice—better not have been Tony, he could have cut himself, he could have gotten hurt—and Peter has to physically shake his head to shake those thoughts right out through his ears. What is wrong with him?

“Captain Rogers?” Peter says timidly. The man is closest—closer than Tony who is at the sink arguing with Clint about proper coffee ground disposal. Steve’s face is open and kind when he stops collecting half-filled glasses of milk and orange juice.

“Hey Peter. It’s still Steve, okay? It’s always Steve.”

“Yeah,” Peter says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I wanted to say sorry for jumping down your throat earlier. I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately.”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” Steve says. He’s so kind it hurts. “Everybody has days like that, me included. Apology accepted, okay?”

Peter smiles. “Thanks. Steve.”

It takes a while for him to get Tony alone, but Peter figures that he owes the man a more in-depth apology, one he’d rather give without the other eyes of the Avengers on them. Tony seems to know what Peter is getting at, taking his time wiping down the counter (even though there are people who do that for him) and lingering. Bucky is the last one left, watching Peter with muted, angry eyes. Protective. Tony brushes the super soldier off, waving him away.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter says. His mouth is dry, his throat begs him to swallow but there’s no spit in his mouth. His knees are shaking. “I’m so sorry. For the glass, and for—for everything after. Nobody should treat you like that.”

“Don’t sweat it, kid,” Tony says. His smile is easy and charming, cheeks fuller than usual with the way he is putting on weight in anticipation of his heat. Sometimes when Peter blinks, he still sees how Tony looked after the un-Dusting, thin and tired and scared half-to-death. But this Tony is an entirely different man, and all the more handsome for it. This morning, he isn’t wearing his glasses, and his eyes are so sleepy-sated. He’s still in sweatpants, and the feet poking from beneath the pant legs are bare, fine boned. So fucking cute. “Is there something bothering you? Some of the others have came to me with concerns. You’re acting out. Teenage rebellion finally catching up with you? Gonna slam some doors, tell me you hate me, vandalize public property?”

“I could never hate you, Mr. Stark,” Peter says. He can’t say those words without his throat clenching, voice dropping. Tony’s chest expands in a deep silent breath and the look he gives Peter is—strange.

He claps Peter on the shoulder, a brief burning touch, and then is moving away. “Love that for me, kid. I’ll see you—around.”

He disappears. Peter finds himself sniffing the air, but there is nothing except the lingering scent of breakfast foods. What else he was expecting, he doesn’t know.

-

“J.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Get me some new biometrics on our Spider-Kid. Be subtle about it, too.”

“The human rights protocols that Ms. Potts demanded you install require me to inform you that performing any medical testing on an unaware subject is a direct violation of—”

“Yeah, yeah, skip reading me the riot act, J. I’m a bad, bad man. Get me those results ASAP, got it?”

“Performing them now, sir.”

-

Sundays are reserved for training, the only kind of worship most of the Avengers perform. At dawn, Peter is down in the gymnasium, wearing joggers and a clingy t-shirt. Today is supposed to be most perfunctory for him considering how hard he’s been pushing himself this week (harder than usual, maybe, he thinks, but it helps burn off some of the extra energy that has been blooming under his skin, making him itch). While the other Avengers practice hand-to-hand combat, he’ll probably be running on the treadmills.

Tony is there only for show, dressed in loungewear and drinking copious amounts of coffee. These days, he’s taking it with so much sugar and creamer that Peter can smell it on him even hours later, so sweet it makes his teeth ache. He’s only a week away from his heat, but the pheromones he’s producing make him more susceptible to physical attacks. Since these exercises are just for practice and not to hurt, he is sitting out.

“Hey, kid,” Tony mumbles, still sounding as tired as Peter feels. “You look dead on your feet. Coffee?”

He holds out his own mug. Peter hates coffee, but his body moves without consulting his higher faculties, reaching out to take the steaming cup. It actually doesn’t taste bad. Actually, it tastes pretty good—just how he imagines the inside of Tony’s mouth would taste, warm and so sweet and—

“Peter,” Tony asks. “What are you doing?”

Peter freezes—from where he is dragging his tongue along the rim of the cup, laving it over where Tony had his own mouth. His mouth goes dry, the taste of coffee turning sour in his mouth. He pulls the mug away from his mouth so quickly that he almost sloshes some out onto his trembling hands. Tony barely manages to grab the cup in time, looking much more alert (and frankly, a little alarmed).

“I—I have no idea. I’m sorry.”

“That’s—okay. It’s okay. It’s good stuff.”

Peter’s eyes go half lidded. “Yeah it is.”

Then (and Peter will never forget this, not as long as he lives. If he were in a terrible accident tomorrow that stole all of his memories, he’s sure that this one would still remain, burned in his brain), Tony puts the cup to his mouth and takes a long drink, mouth against where Peter’s tongue had trailed. All the blood in Peter’s body goes south. He feels electrocuted. A hand reaches out—his, that’s my hand, he thinks, though it’s so far away—and he presses his palm flat against Tony’s forehead, soft wisps of hair under his fingers, warm skin against his own. A shudder goes through him, and by the time he has dragged his wrist across Tony’s temple and down the side of his neck, stubble rasping against him, Peter is downright trembling, teeth clenched tight.

Tony sits like a statue under his touch, eyes wide as moons, all the blood drained from his face, and when Peter reaches the scent gland in his neck, he melts. He goes lax.

“Peter.”

When Peter turns, his teeth are clenched, lips pulled back. Captain America is standing there, and Peter can smell him, acrid.

“Stay back,” Peter barks.

“Is he—?” Natasha asks in the background, her voice high and soft with confusion.

Sam grabs her arm gently, pulling her away. “Presenting.”

There is a scuffle further away in the room, Clint holding back a trembling Bucky who is trying to get to his mate—but they are beta and omega, lesser threats. Peter pays them no mind.

Steve puts both of his hands up, the picture of calm, collected reassurance. “I’m not going to hurt you, Pete.”

“I’ll hurt you, old man,” Peter says. His voice isn’t his own, deeper and darker and scared—scared of this man, this Alpha. Peter’s omega is near and vulnerable, almost in heat. What other purpose could Steve have here except to try and separate them, try to take the omega for his own. That will never happen. His spine straightens. He is a head shorter and more than the other man, but they have fought before. Peter can take him. “Back. Off.”

Fingers wrap around Peter’s wrist, pulling it gently from his omega’s neck, and while Peter doesn’t want to take his eyes off of this dangerous alpha (no matter how non-threatening he looks), his omega is beckoning him. Peter turns and—it’s Tony. Tony. Tony.

Peter snatches his wrist back, all of his sanity coming back like cold water being poured over his head. The man is watching him, cautious, and the air is scented with fear and anxiety. This omega doesn’t need that, not so close to his heat—but this isn’t just an omega, this is Tony. Tony Stark. And here Peter is, rubbing himself all over the man like some sort of barbarian.

“Oh my god,” Peter slurs, stumbling backwards, wrist to his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“Peter,” Tony says. His mouth stays open but no other words come out: a true feat, for Tony to be at a loss for words. It gives Peter enough time to turn tail and run, no tact, just sprinting from the gym. The elevator is already opening—thank you, Jarvis—and Peter takes it directly up to the Avengers floor where he locks himself in his room and doesn’t exit for the rest of the day.

-

“I’ve rerun the scans twice now, sir. Peter Parker is an alpha. The blood work Doctor Banner performed on him this afternoon confirms it.”

“How, J? Alphas present at 14, 15—16 at the latest. Peter is eighteen years old. How did he go from beta to alpha overnight?”

“If I had to venture a guess, I would say that his altered DNA state has something to do with the late presentation. Some animalistic instincts are only triggered in the face of more base situations. More than likely, he has been an alpha all along, but until a suitable mate presented itself, his secondary gender remained dormant.”

“Are you saying I’m the suitable mate in this prime-time drama scenario?”

“I’ve never known you to sound so unhappy with a compliment, sir. Or are you fishing for more? I assure you that your hormone levels are ideal for your age, you are still fertile, and judging by the conversations I’ve overheard between Mr. Parker and his friends, he’s had romantic feelings for you for years, now.”

“Jesus, J! What happened to your privacy protocols?”

“Oh, am I not still ignoring those? My apologies, sir. In that case, Mr. Parker never talks about you at all, and they most certainly do not refer to you as Iron Daddy.”

“I swear to God JARVIS, I will wipe your programming and turn you into a glorified pocket planner—”

“If I have to overhear the phrase Iron Daddy one more time, I might be agreeable to it, sir.”

-

For the next few days, Peter moves around the tower like a ghost. Before he leaves any room, he asks JARVIS who is in the next one. That allows him to get from place to place without running in to Tony. It isn’t safe for Peter to be around him anymore—not after Peter practically assaulted him in front of the other Avengers. In a few days, Peter’s hormones will stabilize and then he’ll be more in control of himself.

Until then?

He deals. Alone. Trying to come to terms with his new secondary gender is more difficult than he expected. When he was younger, it was everyone’s dream to be an alpha or omega. Those genders were much rarer, sensationalized in the movies and books. Omegas and alphas could find True Love with each other. They had senses like super humans, exuding pheromones, being able to scent the air and tell a person’s mood.

Betas were average. Normal. Maybe he wanted to be an alpha or omega, but a part of him always suspected he would be a beta. When the years he should have presented in passed, he accepted it. Betas weren’t so bad, May told him. At least they didn’t have to deal with the mess of heats or ruts, they weren’t beholden to their biology.

Now, everything has changed.

Just the thought of the affect Tony had on him makes his whole face go red. God, how embarrassing. He practically rubbed himself all over the man, no better than an animal. Mr. Stark deserved better than that. He needed a mature partner, a mate who could keep their head even in the face of his hormones. They had words for alphas like Peter, ones who couldn’t control themselves—pups. Knotheads. It makes him burn with shame.

Some of the other Avengers come by to talk with him. Sam, Natasha, their neutral beta scents comforting. He spends some time with Bruce, an omega who used suppressants to neutralize his scent. Steve stays away, much to Peter’s thanks and shame. And Tony, too. To Peter’s complete agony. Sometimes he catches remnants of the man’s scent, and he has to struggle not to rub his face against the couch cushions, to scent them himself. What will his omega think, when he catches his alpha’s scent—only no. Tony isn’t his omega.

And Peter isn’t his alpha.

-

They let him meet Steve again first. The alpha hasn’t change physically, but it feels like Peter is seeing him through a whole new set of eyes. He smells of petrichor in the city, not very appealing. But alpha scents aren’t meant to appeal to other alphas. Does Tony like this smell, Peter wonders? When they hug, does Tony nuzzle into that thick chest and scent him?

The thought doesn’t fill Peter with the same rage it did a few days ago. Instead, it makes him sad.

“Hi Captain Rogers,” Peter says. “How are you?”

Steve smiles. “I’m great, Pete. It’s Steve, remember? Still Steve.”

Peter tries to smile back. “Steve.”

When Peter and Captain Rogers both come out of his room, the only other Avengers around are Natasha and Tony. Instinct has him inhaling—and God, Tony smells as good as Peter remembers. Coffee must be in his blood, sweet with creamer and raw sugar that would crunch under Peter’s molars and dissolve on his tongue. It’d be a dream to taste that scent from the source.

Peter shakes himself out of it. Those are the kinds of thoughts that got him in trouble in the first place. He can feel how tense the room is while he carefully approaches the omega. In Tony’s benefit, he looks relaxed, lounging on the sofa. In this position, his gently rounded stomach is clear underneath his band t-shirt and it makes Peter’s mouth water. He wills away his boner—because now, alphas like Steve and omegas like Tony will be able to smell his arousal.

“Hey Mr. Stark,” Peter says in a soft, cracking voice. “A-Are you okay?”

Tony smiles, gentle, so tender. “Peachy, kid. Just peachy.”

-

Tony’s body starts purging three days before his heat, and everyone in the tower knows it. Peter knows too, and not just because he can smell it, ripening like strawberries in sugar, but because Tony stops eating altogether. Mealtimes he spends pushing food around his plate, forcing himself to sip at his sweating glass of ice water. His body is clearing itself out, priming itself for mating. Bruce encourages him to eat what he can, but Tony just snaps at his mothering, face green. No one needs to openly state that this pre-heat seems worse than usual.

It hurts to see Tony not eating, but Peter sits on his hands and bites his fucking tongue and turns away and doesn’t say a thing because it isn’t his fucking business to command the omega. Tony is more than his designation. He’s a fucking human being, and Peter is going to respect him and his wishes, even if he’d rather see the man stuff himself, belly rounded, preferably with Peter’s—

“Bathroom,” Peter mutters, standing jerkily from the table. No one notices his quick escape. In the small, tiled room, his own scent rebounds off the walls and suffocates him, arousal, sharp, pining, sickly. Peter splashes cool water over his face, resolute in his decision not to jerk off. He hasn’t cum since before his presentation, is too afraid of how it might be different, too afraid of the knot that is likely to bloom at the base of his cock (which has grown, to Peter’s horror and delight).

Once he feels less likely to pop a boner at the dinner table, he flushes perfunctorily and leaves the bathroom—only to run directly into Tony who pushes past him.

“Sorry kid, got to yack,” he mutters. But then everything about him freezes. Peter sees his own scent, concentrated from his time in the bathroom as it washes over the omega. Tony shudders, eyes rolling. The sound that leaves his mouth can be described as nothing short of a whimper. The green tinge of nausea is replaced with the flush of his own arousal, and Peter can smell it, so good that it hurts, makes him harder than he’s ever been in his life, and this is his omega, his omega who is approaching heat and needs him—

But he is more than that to Peter, too.

Using all his restraint, Peter reaches out for the bathroom door handle and slams the door shut. He hears the soft thud of Tony’s body on the other side, like he has slumped against it. A low groan, muted by the oak.

Peter turns and goes to his room without an explanation, dinner plate still half-full.

-

“JARVIS…”

“I’m here, sir.”

“Protocol Fuck or Die. Who is on my consent list?”

“Just Captain Rogers, sir.”

“Add Peter.”

“Shall I alert him—”

“No—just. I doubt my heat will be bad enough to require an alpha’s—ah—special support, but. Better safe than sorry.”

“As you wish, sir.”

“Oh, and J? Let’s go ahead and make an addendum…”

-

Less than two days later, Tony leaves his bedroom on the Avengers’ floor and goes up to the penthouse. The door locks behind him, and Peter comforts himself with that fact. The man is safe. No one can get in without JARVIS’s say so, and the AI values Tony’s safety above all else. Even if he suffers while he’s there (and that thought alone makes Peter ache in his chest, desperate to help), at least he is safe.

Two days in, a situation across the country calls for some of the Avengers, and Steve, Bucky, Nat and Clint all pack up to head out. They don’t ask Peter to come with them, and the young alpha doesn’t offer—though he hardly knows why. Nat tucks him under her arm and presses a kiss to his forehead when he wishes them safe travels, and please let me know if you need backup.

She smiles, soft. “I think you’re needed here, Pete.”

Peter has no idea what to make of that, and no idea how right she is.

-

“Mister Parker.”

Peter wakes from a restless sleep, sitting straight up in his bed. The room is absolutely dark—the only way he can sleep with his sensitivity issues—but Peter knows that the voice didn’t come from anyone in the room. It came from above. Heart in his throat, he croaks out an affirmation, fearing the worst. Something has gone wrong on the mission with Steve and the others. They are hurt, or worse, dead. Maybe there’s another emergency, this time in New York, and Peter and Sam and Bruce will have to deal with it alone—

“I need you to go directly to the penthouse, and with haste.”

“Penthouse? That’s—that’s off limits. Mr. Stark—”

“Mister Stark’s temperature is reaching dangerous levels, and he is no longer responding to my questions. He requires immediate attention. Do not bother dressing—go straight there.”

Peter rolls out of bed. This is worse than the Avengers being hurt. So much worse. His hands shake as he leaves his room wearing nothing but boxer shorts (do not bother dressing or not, Peter wasn’t going to walk around naked). The lounge is empty and ghostly, moonlight streaming in from the windows and turning every shadow into a monster. Peter has bigger fears now, though.

“It’s his heat?”

“Yes—”

“—and what exactly—I mean, what do you want me to do about it?”

“Now is not the time for me to give you the birds and the bees talk, Mister Parker—”

Peter blanches. The elevator is waiting for him as he steps inside, feels the pull of gravity as he quickly ascends, his hears popping at the change in altitude. “JARVIS, you don’t understand—Mr. Stark, h-he can’t consent during a heat. I would be—it would be—”

“You have his consent. Based on protocol Fuck or Die—”

“I’m sorry what?”

“It’s not uncommon for older omegas to suffer serious health issues while suffering through heats alone and unsuppressed. In the event that an alpha is absolutely required, Mister Stark has a list of preapproved alphas who have his complete consent to bond with him. On such a list is Captain Rogers and, as of earlier this week, yourself.”

Peter gapes. His head spins. Mr. Stark—lists of consent—Peter?

“If it makes you feel better,” JARVIS says. “Had Captain Rogers been here, I would have asked him first.”

The elevator opens, and Peter steps out into the hallway that leads to the penthouse. His stomach is in knots, a tangle of Medusa’s snakes that wriggle and threaten to turn him to stone. His knees are shaking, knocking together in fear that is so potent it’s comical. This is his greatest dream come true (though certainly not happening in the way he had anticipated) but suddenly it is his deepest fear.

“No offense, Mr. JARVIS, but in what world would that make me feel better?” Peter asks, his sweating palm on the doorknob to the penthouse.

“We can debate it another time when Mister Stark isn’t at risk of a febrile seizure.”

The door clicks, lock opening. Steeling himself, Peter opens the door and steps inside.

-

The smell intense: cinnamon rolls, ground coffee beans, caramel sauce so sweet it’s just on the verge of burning. It is right out of Peter’s wet dreams, his cock rushing to fill itself so that it will be useful to the omega in need. The penthouse is a mess when Peter scans it: furniture knocked over, a glass of water shattered on the tiles of the foyer, though the water has nearly evaporated now. Everything is quiet and still. It should be eerie.

But suddenly it isn’t. A change comes over him, a rush of hormones that not only fill his cock but clear his head. It’s like everything he sees is in greater detail, sharp focus, all of his senses on high alert. There are no more nerves, and Peter is filled with the overwhelming confidence that he knows what he’s doing.

“The bedroom, Mister Parker. Quickly, please.”

Peter moves with purpose, ignoring his cock. The bedroom door is only cracked, and he reaches out with a firm hand to push it open the rest of the way.

Tony has taken up residence on the floor beside the bed. The sheets are dragged off of it as if Tony had struggled to pull himself up and lost the strength, choosing instead to curl up around his aching abdomen. Peter gathers all of the strength and calm inside of himself, works to exude it in his very scent (a thing he’s mostly unfamiliar with, but which is apparently a skill akin to wiggling his ears, which he can also do, thanks very much).

Naked, Peter is privy to every inch of tanned skin, the gentle smattering of hair on Tony’s legs, sparser at his thighs. There are no hairs on his chest thanks to the mass of scar tissue where the arc reactor used to be, smooth, pink skin that will never grow hair again. All his skin is covered in sweat, slick and glowing under the dim lights. Then, Tony’s eyes open, nostrils flaring. He turns his head towards where Peter stands in the doorway, teeth chattering from his fever, and the look on his face is pure relief.

“Alpha,” he says, stuttering through his chills.

Peter hushes him, kneeling down to drag the man into his arms. The omega groans in pain when he’s no longer curled around his aching stomach, but then buries his nose in Peter’s neck, hot breath brushing his skin and making goosebumps rise all over Peter. Tony sighs in relief, wrapping himself around the kneeling alpha. Peter can feel Tony’s cock—small, but hard and leaking—pressing against his hip. Pooled on the older man’s abdominals is cum, drying and tacky.

“I recommend a tepid shower, Mister Parker.”

“Start it,” Peter says through his teeth. He shifts up onto one knee, bracing himself so that he can support the larger man’s weight. Tony is mouth at his neck, hips rutting desperately. Peter puts a hand on the man’s lower back and guides him, encourages him, words pouring out of his mouth that he can barely hear over the blood rushing in his ears. “Come on, Mr. Stark, please Mr. Stark, you need to cum. Can you cum like this? Will you try, for me? Now, Omega, now if you can at all—”

Tony shudders, cum splattering Peter’s bare stomach. It burns—every point of contact with the man burns, thanks to the fever.

“God,” Peter groans, throat convulsing. “That was amazing. So good, Mr. Stark, Jesus, that was incredible—”

In the bathroom, the shower is running, cool enough to not create any steam. Peter grits his teeth, hating cold showers, but knowing that his omega needs it. A fever isn’t good for his omega’s brain, and at least the water isn’t cold. That might shock Tony’s system and do more harm than good. Without even stopping to shuck his boxers, Peter slides open the glass shower door and ushers them both inside. When the spray hits him, the omega whines, shrinking away.

“Stay,” Peter says firmly. Tony goes slack, suggestible.

He leaves the front of Tony’s body in the cool spray and stands on his toes to bury his nose in the omega’s neck, scenting him, scraping together every good warm safe happy feeling inside of himself. Tony’s head goes lax, leaning back, water dripping down his throat. The young alpha licks a line up his throat and to the shell of his ear. Such a thing would be weird any other time, but now it’s like there’s a part inside of him that urges him to do it, to leave his mouth on the man and never lift it.

“Peter?” he slurs.

Peter jolts. If Tony is more conscious and aware, that seems like a promising sign. “JARVIS called for me. You’re safe, Mr. Stark,” he says. “I promise.”

Tony smiles, a soft breath coming out almost like a laugh. “I know,” he murmurs. “Jesus, kid, I’m cold.”

“You’re feverish,” Peter says. “JARVIS? Can you tell Mr. Stark’s temperature?”

“It is a toasty 101.7 degrees Fahrenheit, Mister Parker, which is an improvement. I believe a decent bonding session would have a similar therapeutic effect, if the shower isn’t comfortable. And sir, may I say that it’s nice to see you stringing together a full sentence.”

Tony snorts. His voice is weak, but no less snarky. “Thanks, J. Can we get out, Pete? I haven’t taken cold showers since I was fifteen years old.”

“If we get out,” Peter says. “We’ll have to—to bond.”

“Is that—you don’t want that?”

“I do, God, Jesus, yes I do—”

Now Tony does laugh, even as his eyes slip closed in exhaustion. It is likely that without proper care, he has barely slept since his heat started in earnest three days ago. The instincts inside of Peter stir: his omega needs fucked and then he needs rest.

As soon as the cool water is off, Tony is back to stumbling, doubled over in pain, an arm curled around his tender midsection. The cramps come and go while Peter does his best to dry them off, but their hair is still dripping when he can’t take the sounds of pain anymore and guides Tony back to the bedroom. There is nothing on the bed but a fitted sheet, soft as silk, and Tony crawls onto it without prompting.

He sinks immediately into lordosis, ass up, spine curved as he presents himself, forehead pressed to the bed and chest doing its best to follow. This is pornography come to life, Peter thinks. He can see Tony’s hole, wet and dripping. Between his legs are his balls, red and aching, but it’s that hole that makes his fingers ache, that has him reaching out to press a thumb against the rim.

Tony chokes, hips jerking backwards until Peter sinks in to the first knuckle. Tony is loose and pliant, perfect for taking an alpha’s cock and knot.

“Please,” Tony groans into the mattress, shaking all over. “’t hurts, Pete. Please. Inside.”

Peter pulls his thumb free, kneels up onto the bed to shuffle closer, and then sinks two gentle fingers in, slow until they’re swallowed to the hilt. He has to close his eyes, cock aching, knot already throbbing at the base. Inside, Tony is like liquid silk, hot and wet and clinging to his fingers, the internal muscles squeezing and desperate for more to hold on to. The noise Tony lets out is pure sex, a long moan that ends higher and breathier than he’s ever heard the man.

Slowly, Peter pulls his fingers out to the tip—and god, the slide, the wet friction is just as intoxicating, eyes rolling in his skull, blinded to everything but the desperate omega in front of him—before pressing back in. He twists them, circles his hands, crooks them until he finds that spot, the rough bump inside. Tony keens, body spasming as his fists clench at the sheets, his cock spurting. Around his fingers, Tony’s ass flutters. But he needs more. Peter knows.

Soaked boxers abandoned in the bathroom, Peter’s cock is free to dribble and ache, only inches from where it longs to harbor. Brief anxiety has his hand trembling when he reaches down to run a gentle fist from tip down to root. This is the first time he’s touched his cock since he presented—but it feels the same really. Except for the base, where there is a bump, so sensitive that he whines when he runs a curious thumb over it. God, how will that feel inside Tony? Peter can’t even imagine.

Withdrawing his fingers, the omega cries out, hips jerking backwards, desperate to keep the connection. Peter soothes him with a hand on his back, urging him to relax back into the bedspread while Peter kneels up behind him. Their similar heights make this easy—all the important bits are at the perfect levels.

Taking a deep breath, Peter guides the head of his cock to the wet hole. The first touch has him whining, shaking, and if it weren’t for the firm hand on Tony’s back, the omega would likely have taken him to the root by now with the way he is thrusting back, trying to fuck himself on the tip alone. It’s now or never, Peter tells himself. Pressing forward, he sinks in until he can’t anymore. It takes every bit of restraint not to cum immediately, popping his knot in the tightest, wettest, most pleasurable heat he’s ever known. Beneath him, Tony sounds like he’s dying in the best way, groaning.

“Please, alpha, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me—”

Everything in him wants to give this man what he needs, so with singular focus, Peter pulls back his hips and lets them snap forward. Tony howls, his elbows bending so that he can grab fistfuls of his hair and pull. Peter lets his instincts do the work, trusts his body to know what is best for himself and his omega, fucking into that tight heat in desperation. The best part of every thrust is bottoming out, the brief pressure of Tony’s fluttering rim around Peter’s blossoming knot, so sensitive it makes him shiver.

“God, Mr. Stark,” Peter pants. The words are torn from his chest: “My omega.”

“Yes, yes, yours, take it, take me,” Tony says, every word punctuated by a hitch in his breath as Peter thrusts in. “Alpha—let me cum, please—”

“Yes,” Peter groans. “You need it, please. Please cum for me.”

Tony cries out, entire body stiffening and going still beneath him—every part of him except for his small cock, spurting weakly and the tight heat around Peter’s cock that flutters, squeezing, choking the life out of him. Peter desperately wants to bring Tony to another orgasm, figuring that the better sated he is, the quicker his fever will fall. But the sounds, the smells, the unbearable pressure around his cock is too much. He can feel it building inside him, balls tightening, knot beginning to swell. There’s no way he can stop it—and Tony needs this too. Needs a knot, for his body to fight the biological havoc his hormones are wreaking on it.

So Peter chases it, fucking Tony right through his orgasm. Every time the knot catches on the rim, Peter thinks this is it, this is it, there’s no way I can push into him, or there’s no way I can pull it out of him, but he does, both of their bodies capable of so much more than he ever knew. Then it hits. Peter shoves the knot past the rim, shrieking as his balls spasm, cum spurting into the omega. Beneath him, Tony shouts something unintelligible, and maybe he cums again, but Peter can’t tell. The world goes white. Nothing exists except for the tight channel around his cock, the rim that’s squeezing his knot, coaxing more and more cum from him.

But one thought comes, strikes him like a lightning bolt straight from Thor’s hammer: bite. His teeth ache down to the roots with as tightly as he clenches them together, mouth watering, desperate to clamp his jaws on that raised spot on Tony’s neck. Break skin. Mate. The urge becomes overwhelming, no way that he can stop it—but instead he turns and bites into the meat of his bicep, breaking skin until blood floods his mouth.

When it finally ends, they are stuck together. Shaking from exertion, Peter still reaches out to help Tony collapse properly onto the bed, then he guides them both onto their sides, his stomach pressed flush against Tony’s back. The omega is shaking all over, so Peter runs his hands over every bit of skin he can, murmuring words of praise, God Mr. Stark, you’re perfect. That was the most amazing thing, thank you so much, thank you.

By the time his knot deflates enough for him to pull out without hurting Tony (and it’s an inordinate amount of time later, Peter things, probably considering it was his first ever knot popped), the bite on his arm has healed. He must still look like a sight, he thinks, mouth covered in flaking, dried blood. Tony is soft and sated when he rolls onto his back, and the only indication he gives that the blood on Peter startles him is a few gentle blinks, like his eyes are blurry and he needs to clear them.

“I almost bit you,” Peter says. “I’m so sorry.”

Tony smiles, eyes already slipping closed. He worms one arm beneath the pillow under his head and lets his eyes shut completely. “Go ahead,” he mumbles. “’m going t’ sleep now.”

Peter smooths the hair out of his face. His chest feels tight, full up with love and longing and absolute adoration. This has been beyond Peter’s wildest dreams: mating Tony, bonding with him for good and not just for now? That is something that Peter can’t even let himself imagine. It’s a pipe dream, a hazy, unclear fantasy. Beside him, Tony is already asleep. The man snores—wait until Ned finds out.

“Mister Stark’s temperature is returning to normal boundaries, I am happy to report.”

Peter breathes a sigh of relief. He barely knew how much tension was in him until he heard those words, until he knew that Tony would be okay. His body relaxes, experiencing a peace he has never before known. Here, with this man he loves more than anything, knowing they are safe and that Tony is content. “Thank you, JARVIS. I’m glad you woke me.”

“As am I. Mister Parker, I believe there is one other matter that I must bring to your attention.”

“What is it?”

“It is another protocol that Mister Stark put in place. A list he created exclusively for you.”

-

It is a week later before Tony is well enough to leave his penthouse. The man has lost all the weight he put on and more, even as Peter’s constant insistence that he eat whenever he could stomach it. Despite the copious amounts on incredible sex they shared, Peter can’t help but be glad that Tony’s heats only come twice a year. Any more than that might genuinely kill the man, his legs shaking, leaning on Peter as they enter the Avengers living area.

General cries of greeting and joy rise up around the floor. Steve pulls the man into a hug before he thinks otherwise, his eyes finding Peter’s over the omega’s shoulder. But Peter isn’t jealous, just watches with a happy, soft smile. He sees the exact moment that Steve breathes in and smells the change in the omega’s scent, and Peter knows the look on his face must be that of the sorest winner, smug, and unbearably in love.

Steve pulls back and gently tugs at the collar of Tony’s shirt, exposing just the smallest hint of the healing mating bite. Peter’s own has already healed.

Bucky can’t help but frown from where he stands behind Steve. His eyes flash hot like coals, accusatory, pinning Peter in place. “You mated him? He was in heat.”

Tony waves a hand. “We had a sort of—withstanding agreement. Didn’t we, J?”

“That you did, sir. I would not let anything untoward happen to Mister Stark under my watch.”

“Hear that?” Tony asks, stalking to the refrigerator. “I have protocols in place for every possible sequence of events, and giving hot young alphas the consent to mate me for life is a very advantageous outcome, if I do say so myself. Hey—fruit goes on the top shelf, heathens, not in the drawer. I’m out of commission for two weeks and this is what happens—”

“You have, what, procedures in place? For every possible sequence of events?” Bucky asks, his arms crossed.

Tony reappears from the refrigerator, a take-out contained in his hands. He cracks it open, Styrofoam screeching, to appraise the insides. Whatever is there must please him, because he bumps the door closed with one hip and goes for a fork. “Huh?” he asks, scooping out strands of angel hair pasta. “Oh. Yeah—I do. By failing to prepare, you are preparing to fail.”

“Who said that?” Natasha asks. “Was that Franklin?”

“What, it wasn’t me?” Tony asks.

“Wait, I want to hear more about these procedures, especially any that involve me,” Bucky asks. They all gravitate around the counter, leaning against the marble. Peter can’t help but feel that the turmoil of the last month has ended and now things are—not normal. But better than normal. His family, his pack, they are stronger than ever.

“I could tell you, snowflake,” Tony says around a mouth of pasta. “But then I’d have to kill you.”

-

tag list: (and I know I’m missing so many of you right now, I’m sorry, I’ll work on it, feel free to continue to let me know if you want to be tagged or would rather not be. @shinycreatoroafbonk @sadbumblingmess @parkerslutt @css1992 @starkerotic @rogerthat-captain @prettyboy-parker @onemadeofglass @kirtthana @deliciousflapbanditfarm @kiaorauniverse @loki-iwanttobeking @parleroumourirr @bizzlepotter @von--gelmini 

[gumnut-logic]

Need (Part One)

Title: Need

Part One

Author: Gumnut

8 Mar 2020

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: We need to do what we need to do.

Word count: 1944

Spoilers & warnings: Season 3

Timeline: Sometime after the end of season 3

Author’s note: This last week saw my muse completely fry under stress, mostly from work. I didn’t write for something like five days. I couldn’t write. It was bad. Nutty was a frazzled mess. So, when I did start writing, I didn’t care what I wrote as long as I managed to get something down on the page after being unable to for so long. So, we have the beginning of another fic. I have written and completed Part Two and am into Part Three so there is more to come, I promise. This does not mean I’m abandoning any of my other WIPs, I just need to be kind to myself or I’ll end up writing nothing. This is better than nothing, trust me. I hope you enjoy it anyway.

This is in answer to the ‘brain trauma’ prompt from the whump prompt list. Many thanks to @sofasurf for the suggestion and the plotwork chat ::hugs you::

Many thanks to @scribbles97​ and @i-am-chidorixblossom​ for the read throughs and reassurance.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

 “Dad, I’m over eighteen. It’s my leave, I can do what I want.”

It was said calmly, without malice, but Virgil still frowned as he walked into the comms room.

“Regardless, Alan, I still don’t think it is a very good idea.”

Just as equally calm and considered. Their father was standing near his desk frowning at Alan who was in the sunken lounge not quite glaring up at his father.

“It is safe, Dad. The track has the best safety record on the planet.”

“It is still car racing, Alan.”

“I fly a rocket. How can racing a car be more dangerous than that?”

“It isn’t the car. It’s all the other cars that complicate the matter.”

“That’s what makes it fun!”

“Alan-“

“I really want to do this, Dad.” A swallow. “And I’m going to. I’m sorry.”

Virgil watched as his father straightened, his expression stiffening. “I only want you to be safe, son.”

Alan climbed up out of the pit and approached their dad. “I know.” A hug was offered and the older man drew his son into his arms.

Only Virgil could see the desperation in his father’s expression as he scrunched his face up behind Alan’s shoulder and the engineer realised neither of them knew he was there. Virgil had the sudden urge to backtrack and get out of the room before they discovered him.

Too late.

A pair of grey eyes opened and caught sight of him and widened just slightly.

Father and son parted. Alan, still unaware of Virgil’s presence, looked up at their dad. “I’ll do you proud, I promise.”

Their father looked down. Quietly. “You already have.”

A nudge and Dad indicated Virgil’s presence.

Alan jumped.

And so he should. This was a discussion that had already occurred between Scott, Virgil and Alan on several occasions. Sure, now his brother was eighteen and technically he could do what he wanted, but Scott had forbidden it multiple times already.

“Oh, hey, Virg.”

“Alan.” He put everything he needed into his little brother’s name.

Dad frowned.

Virgil narrowed his gaze to the young astronaut. “Scott is working on One. You should go give him a hand.”

“Virg-“

“Now.”

Whispered. “FAB.” He slunk out of the room, his expression one of dread.

That left Virgil with his father.

“Hey, Dad.”

The older man turned back to his desk and poked at a holographic file. “Good morning, Virgil.”

“How are you feeling today?” He couldn’t help himself. He probably shouldn’t ask but his concern for his father was a physical thing that gnawed at him in the dark.

Those broad shoulders tensed up.

No, he really shouldn’t ask that question every morning. Damn.

“I’m fine, Virgil. You don’t need to worry.”

“I’m sorry, Dad.”

His father turned slightly to look at him. “It is understandable, but you really need to worry less.”

Virgil snorted. “Habit.” Scott had been worrying him for a lifetime. Dad was just a bonus round at this point.

Of course, that word earned him a frown. “Have you had breakfast?”

“Was on my way down.” When he heard his little brother wrangling his way into getting what he wanted. Scott was going to strangle him when he found out.

“Mind if I join you? A little brunch wouldn’t hurt.”

“What time did you get up?”

The grey glare hit him between his eyebrows and he threw up his hands in defence. “Okay, okay, no more questions about your health.”

“Your Grandma already roasted me this morning. The two of you are going to need to coordinate.”

He had to snort at that.

The two men trotted down the stairs to the kitchen together, rustled up a rather indulgent meal and decided to partake it out on the patio. For once in his life, Gordon was not in the pool, so they had the glorious morning to themselves.

He didn’t fail to notice that his father couldn’t help but stare up into the blue of the sky as if he couldn’t believe it was that colour.

Virgil focussed on his coffee and its gift of sanity, its warmth crawling into his belly and booting his brain.

“Has Alan been driving long?”

An arched eyebrow in his father’s direction. “Not really. He learnt a couple of years ago with Parker, like all of us, but he doesn’t get much of a chance to upkeep the skill.”

“Then why...?”

“He has a thrill-seeking friend. Brandon Berenger.” Initially, Virgil had thought it a great thing for Alan to hang out with the teenager. Scott had his reservations, but had agreed that living like a monk on an island in the middle of the Pacific was not healthy for any of them. Alan found a friend, so he spent time with him.

The problem was teenagehood.

The arguments were inevitable.

“Alan is not stupid, he just wants acceptance with his peer group.”

A wiry smile curled his Dad’s lips. “I remember that.” It slipped into a grin. “Do you still maintain all those piercings?”

“Daad!”

His father held up his hands. “Hey, I did warn you, but you were just as determined.”

Virgil glared at him over the rim of his coffee cup.

“The purple hair was particularly entertaining.”

“Oh god.”

His father snorted and laughed. “Don’t worry, son, we all look back and groan. Trust me.”

“Sure. I bet you were as sharp and as perfect as Scott.”

That earned him an arched eyebrow. “What gave you the idea that Scott was perfect?”

“Uh, the grade average and the air force uniform?”

Another snort.

“What?”

“Not my story to share.”

“Oh, c’mon, if you’ve got dirt on Scott...”

“Of course, I have, Virgil. I’m his father.” The grin was genuine. “It is my prerogative to know all the embarrassing things about my children.” But then the grin faltered.

Virgil reached out and grabbed the older man’s hand. “There is plenty more to come. I have no doubt that Alan will screw up multiple times between here and his twenty-first. Enough for a movie marathon, Dad. You’re here now, we value that more than you can know.”

A shaky exhale. “I’ve missed so much, Virgil.”

“We’re still here. We still love you. It wasn’t your fault.” He had said those words so many times in the last year. At his father’s bedside. In the dark of night after nightmares. He had done his best to reassure, to reinforce the man’s confidence.

The irony was that the father he knew before his stranding wouldn’t have taken so much notice of his son’s opinion. Their relationship and most definitely been father and son. Now the relationship had changed. Jeff Tracy wasn’t as strong as he used to be. He had been shaken, he doubted himself, thrown by what he had missed and didn’t know about his sons. Grandma was there for him, but it was with Virgil, not Scott, the man was willing to discuss some of his concerns.

Virgil was both grateful and worried about this state of affairs. He helped in any way he could. Caught between a sometimes frantic Scott and an injured father, it was a challenge. But if they needed him, he was there.

Of course, that was the very moment his comms went off.

“Hey, Virg, have you got a spare hydrospanner?”

Virgil rolled his eyes and thumbed his collar. “Gordon, where is yours?”

“Uh...”

“You know if you put them away when you’ve finished with them, you tend to be able to find them next time you want them.”

“Augh, yes, Mom.”

His father raised an eyebrow.

“You borrow mine, it goes back when you are finished.”

“I know the rules, Virg. Where have you stashed it. I’m in your workshop and I can’t find it.”

“Gordon-“

“I’m in a hurry, Virg. There’s coolant leaking all over the deck of module four.”

“What the hell, Gordon?”

“Kill me later, spanner now.”

Virgil shot an apologetic look at his father. “I’m coming down.”

“Virg-“ He killed the connection.

“I’ll be back in a moment, Dad.”

The eyebrow was still raised. “Take your time. Sounds like you’ll need it.”

Virgil glared at him and stalked his way down to the hangars.

-o-o-o-

Virgil loved his aquanaut brother, but although the fish could manage maintenance on his ‘bird, anything more complicated and he really needed a hand. Virgil was quite happy to be that hand on most occasions, but a little more notice would have been useful.

He left the aquanaut scrubbing the deck of module four and headed back upstairs to finish his breakfast.

He actually enjoyed moments with his father. They had connected in a way since he had come back that hadn’t been possible before. And he cherished it.

Of course, it hadn’t been perfect. He never expected it to be, but to have the chance to talk with his father in any way was such a blessing, he could only value the opportunity.

So, he was a little disappointed when he heard his father talking to someone else as he approached from the kitchen.

“You should be proud. He is so much like you.”

Virgil stopped where he was. Who?

“He has your eyes and your kindness, and such strength.” His father sighed and Virgil slipped quietly closer, trying to see who the man was talking to.

The patio was empty except for his father.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Lucy. I don’t know... I try to be their father, but they don’t need me anymore. And Alan...”

The lone figure fell silent and for a moment, his head dropped to stare at his hands in his lap.

“Alan is a young man I don’t know. I love him, honey, and I know you do, too, but I don’t know him. I’m trying. He’s trying. But...love, it’s hard.”

Virgil’s eyes widened and something in his heart snapped. “Dad?”

His father startled and spun in his seat. “Virgil?” But instead of embarrassment or worry, a grin split his face. “Did you save your brother?”

Virgil blinked, his whole emotional state sideswiped and struggling to right itself. “Uh, yeah, we got Four’s temperature regulation system back in one piece. I’ll need to restock our coolant supplies on our next run.” His father had been speaking to his mother. “Dad, you okay?”

Those grey eyes narrowed into a flat stare. “Haven’t we already had this conversation?”

“Uh, yeah, sorry.” His heart was thudding in his chest.

His father frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Dad, sure.”

Those grey eyes assessed him in a way eerily similar to his eldest son. “Gordon difficult?”

“Huh?” He blinked. “Oh, uh, no. He tries. I have to give him credit for that.”

“That is all we can ask of anyone.” Those eyes were still staring at him.

“Yeah. Uh, I need to speak to Scott. What have you got planned today?”

His father shrugged. “More catch up. Gordon has me for more rehab this afternoon.”

Virgil nodded once. His father was reading mission reports and Tracy Industries updates, slowly coming up to speed on what had happened over the last eight years, realigning himself knowledge-wise as his body slowly did the same. “See you at lunch?”

“Of course.” The frown deepened. “What is it, Virgil?”

Virgil straightened and took better control of himself. “I’m fine, Dad.” A blink. “Take it easy.”

Those grey eyes rolled in their sockets. “I couldn’t do anything else with you around, could I?”

Virgil’s smirk was forced.

“Love you, Dad.”

His father sobered a little, a small smile curling his lips. “Love you, too, Virgil.”

A soft smile, and Virgil turned and fled.

-o-o-o-

End Part One

Part Two

[trashy-croud]

Home Sweet Home 🏠

So this is it, the final level. I adored this level as a child - well, watching my dad play it at least. It was always stuck in the back of my head that this level was a “bonus” level for getting all of the secrets, it was what I used to think constantly and I continued to think that to this day. So you can possibly guess my surprise when this level popped up all of a sudden because I knew for a fact I missed a few secrets. But this was a nice level, it truly added to the story.

We begin in Lara’s house with her admiring her newest addition to the collection. She’s sat on her bed by (what I suspect to be) a nice toasty fire and then the nice times are ruined. Even from beyond the grave, Bartoli seems to follow us everywhere as his men have broken onto the estate, their cars pulling up in the long driveway. I thought the instant this happened, I could perhaps use the dagger, I mean, it seems like a wild chance but a great opportunity, a bit sad we didn’t see a Croft Dragon, but nonetheless, we would try to get rid of the last few who continued to pursue to treasure.

Before we did so though, I went downstairs to the main hall, which was at one point the training room, and would press the button for some music. Oh, how I have missed this music. It was from the Venice levels, oh Venice Violins, it was absolutely perfect for taking down some people and drowning out the eerie silence. It did make the task of finding people more difficult, sure, because now I had to really listen for the footsteps, but I will not deny that I enjoyed the music. I don’t honestly understand how I found it, I was literally just running around the house to try and find some people as they had scattered absolutely everywhere when I came across the button. And I’m ever so happy that I did!

It was a pretty easy level overall, wasn’t too bad at all to deal with, though me using a shotgun? That had to be the worst part purely because I am useless with the shotgun in these games. My aim with them are shocking and it always will be. There was a lot of darkness, purely because it was night time and we managed to get some outdoors-time with this level. This was pretty much the only level where I had flares, or at least enough flares to survive. I kid you not, I was so happy when I picked them up in the weaponry cupboard. I managed to survive the darkness outside with the help of some flares and with the help of my mum pointing out the enemies that I couldn’t see. Then we were up against the last guy, the one whom we have met before in the opera house and he had unfinished business with us. Either that or it’s his twin brother. Either way, it was take two on the fight and I have never cheered so much when I have beaten an enemy. He wasn’t difficult to deal with, it just felt like the perfect wrap-up. The last grunt to finish the job that his boss had left him to do, and we foiled it yet again. Ah, the joys.

After it all, it was the final cutscene, or better yet, the famous cutscene. We all know this cutscene too well as it was one that broke the third wall. After you have been shot for being a nosy pervert, in roll the final credits and oh my god, I never fell in love more with a game. It had been a long journey and terribly long from the looks of the final stats. Oh, how @jaybird1306​ would be ashamed of me for not collecting them all! But I am happy with all of this, I wasn’t aiming for a full secrets run or anything, this was more of a trip down memory lane game for me and I have fallen in love with every minute of it.

Final Overview

This game is my childhood, and coming back to it was an absolute pleasure. It really sparked some memories for me of times when I would watch my dad play it in my childhood home. He would sit at the computer and I would watch in awe, sometimes running around and unable to sit still, sometimes even copying some of the moves Lara did in-game because I just adored her. This was the game which started my absolute adoration for such a video game icon and Queen. I have absolutely fallen in love again and I highly doubt it will stop any time soon. Now, for some of the features I loves the most.

The use of darkness. It was absolutely phenomenal, especially in the later levels such as the China levels and some of the underwater levels, as much as I don’t want to remember them ones specifically. But that draw distance truly made each level seem much bigger than it was, it also made you wary of what could be in front of you and to think before you act, something I rarely did to be honest. But as I mentioned before, the way they used it in levels such as China, more specifically the Floating Islands, was incredible. I was basically wary of every step and it made you fear the darkness all around you. It gave you a sense of the void and the unknown, a constant theme which I enjoyed greatly.

The use of sound. Oh god the sound and the music, I could honestly gush over it all day. Music truly makes the game and although all games have music, none have struck me as hard as this game did. Right from the menu screen alone, it struck a cord with me. It was beautiful and I almost found myself humming just the menu tune by itself just whilst I was at work or doing chores around the house. They have always impressed me with their timing for sounds or music. The use of silence was just as good as well as they keep you on end when there is utter silence. And then, all of a sudden, BAM, you are hit with some intense music and you have no idea why or what because whatever it is is still in that darkness! It’s just great, it even makes these games seem very thriller-esque with the jumpscares (at least in my eyes) that the music produces.

The graphics and colour palettes. Bring it all back in because I’m about to gush some more. I adore colour palettes and the contrasts they used in the levels, more specifically, as everyone may know, I adored the colours they used in the Temple of Xian, the Tibet levels and lastly, the underwater levels. Although I did not like the underwater levels, the colours used absolutely caught my heart, the contrasting colours made my heart leap a little. The bright colours of the Temple of Xian level was beautiful as well, they were so fancy and beautiful, much like the colours used in the Barkhang Monastery and they started to introduce to us in the Ice Palace and the Catacombs of the Talion. The snowy peaks of the Foothills though were just as nice, although bright on the eyes, they certainly used it as a way to hinder your view of particular enemies or even rolling boulders. Although the graphics, as some would say, are quite outdated, I enjoyed the blocky graphics. They helped to give me a better idea of what to do and where to go, to become more calculated with my jumps and actions to take. It may also just be me having a moment and being a bit biased, but I adore these graphics. They are perfect to me. Although I do enjoy a lot more realistic graphics for games, the ones for these games were just perfect to me. The graphics suited the game itself and I understand they will change over time the more I progress, but I believe I will still fall in love with these graphics time and time again.

Lastly is the story. As a child, I took not much notice to the story, but replaying it now, I have started to understand the story a bit more. It is beautifully written and is clear, so long as you pay attention to cutscenes or any sort of dialogue, which I made the mistake of missing during the diving area, but nonetheless, I watched back the scene and was able to catch up to understand properly what was happening and why we were collecting particular relics and items. The enemy himself, Marco Bartoli, was a formidable foe, continuously sending enemies to cover his tracks but sadly, he made it too obvious for us to follow after and foil his plans. He was a very interesting villain, and he got his wish in the end, to become the dragon of his dreams. Just bad timing on his part that we were also aiming for the dagger at the same time. But the story was fun to watch unfold and was, in all honesty, quite new to me, bearing in mind, I thought it all as just a “shoot-em-up”, adventure game. How naive I was as a child, but at least now, I properly understand it all.

This game has certainly left its mark on me and I’m glad it did. It got my mum more involved as she told me what she thought I'd need to do whenever I was stuck. My dad, on the other hand, would only chip in with comments such as "that's not how you do that" and then would quickly try to go back to his little cat nap afterwards. Two completely different types of help, one more so than the other. But overall, I have enjoyed this game and I hope you guys have enjoyed watching me play it as well, or at least have enjoyed hearing my thoughts, opinions and what I encountered. This has been Tomb Raider 2, and this ends the chapter on my favourite Tomb Raider game, whether that changes though is another story. But we’ll have to see. I will now begin playing the third instalment and boy, we are starting with a clean slate this time because I barely know anything on this game, save for the first level (which I never finished) and a couple of cutscenes. Otherwise, we are about to trek into new territory and I hope to write about the next game to come. Now I leave you all with a song and want to thank you all for joining me on this bumpy ride! See you all on the next one!

[ofmargaery]

✦ ▓ AND WHO GOES THERE? oh, it’s just [ MARGAERY TYRELL ]. some say [  HER ] resemblance to [ LAURA HARRIER ] is almost uncanny, but the [ TWENTY-EIGHT ] year old has been in the capital for [ TEN YEARS ]. many suspect that they are the notorious [ GRAND MAESTER ] of the [ TYRELL ] family: perhaps that has made them [ SOFT-HEARTED ] && [ IDEALISTIC ] of late, when they used to be so [ ELOQUENT ] && [ INTELLIGENT ]. during the daylight hours, [ MARGAERY ] can be found working as a [ DISTRICT ATTORNEY ], but when night falls over king’s landing, they are best remembered listening to [ JOAN OF ARC by LITTLE MIX ]. may the gods be with them in these dark streets. 

tldr: on behalf of Margaery Tyrell, I would like to inform you that she took a DNA test and she’s 100% that bish. 

The youngest child of Mace Tyrell and Alerie Hightower, she already had three wonderful brothers who had seemed to promise to leave a mark on the world in their own ways. But for all she loved them dearly, it was always her grandmother that she idolised. Olenna’s legacy was what she wanted to live up to and continue.

She grew up happy, kind and undeniably bright. With a knack for picking things up easily, Margaery had an ease with learning and on the odd occasion that she didn’t grasp something first time her diligence was quick to ensure that she added it to her repertoire. 

All she knew was that she wanted grow into a woman that her grandmother would be proud to call her granddaughter. To do that she made sure that she excelled at school, joining almost every club going and making sure that her grades were nothing left than the highest grads. It made her content for a while but she soon found herself looking for her next challenge, setting her sights on doing something for others.

At the age of sixteen she set up her own foundation with the blessing and help of her family. Knowing how important education was, it started off as a way to help finance children from low income backgrounds through college. It has evolved over the years and now it is multifaceted but mostly serves as her way to ensure that the general public isn’t forgotten while all the families war against each other. Of course, it has its uses past that and at times it’s been used to advocate for certain laws that her family are lobbying for. Although she has to keep her views somewhat private due to her job, she takes great joy in knowing the good it is doing.

Her foundation was what settled her mind on what she wanted to do with her life - continuing to improve the world she lived in somehow. She didn’t quite have the stomach for politics although undoubtedly she would have excelled at that the same way she did everything else. So instead her focus moved to the law and how it was upheld. She moved to Kings Landing for college and has been here ever since. 

While studying she knew that she had a choice ahead of her - which discipline she wanted to practise. But to her the answer seemed simple. She wanted to ensure that dangerous people ended up behind bars and of course, it came alongside the added bonus of being responsible for members of other factions ending him behind bars too.

When it came to the other side of the family business, Margaery was initiated as soon as she moved to Kings Landing. She moved her way through the ranks before becoming an exarch two years ago, quickly proving that her words could just as easily be crafted into threats as they could praise. 

She’s formidable in the courtroom and has an almost perfect track record of convictions. Some might be cynical and suggest it’s only because of her family’s influence that she succeeds, others might say that she is selective in which cases she chooses. Both of those might hold some truth but the reality is they’re barely a factor. She does her due diligence with every case, pouring over evidence until she had a flawless argument. With sweet smiles and concerned eyes, she rarely fails to win the jury over.

With the death of her aunt she found herself voted into the position of Grand Maester. It was a position she had expected to one day hold but not quite as soon as this. Still, she is determined to rise to the occasion and not let down the people who placed their faith in her. And when Margaery Tyrell sets her mind to something, she tends to succeed.

Personality:

Margaery would like to think that her defining trait was still her kindness and for the most part it is. She has an affinity for altruism and will always be one to put other people before herself - the one big exception to this being that her family comes before all else. But kindness doesn’t quite mean soft and although her heart acts as her conscience, she tends to follow her head more often than not. For all she is happy to have her philanthropic efforts praised, she is grateful too whenever her intelligence is mention. She might be graceful and softly spoken, with doe eyes that always communicate her empathy and understanding, but her mind is as sharp as a knife and she knows how to use it. Communication is extremely important to her and always has been when she loves people so much and as such she’s an excellent listener as well as being extremely eloquent. She loves fun and wit above all, make her laugh and she will be your friend forever.

There might be a constant balance being struck between what she deems is best for the city and what is best for her family but generally she believes that both go hand in hand. Ruthlessness is not a trait she was born with but one she’s learned and as with everything her sharp mind has taken on, she executes it perfectly. There’s a wildness in her that isn’t quiet impulsiveness - she’s far too practised for that - but something that makes her unpredictable. Of course that streak is well hidden when even she forgets about it sometimes, aside from the longing she has for open country and a desire to always be on the move. Unapologetically feminist and intersectional with it, she full believes that what’s best for society is ensuring that everyone’s voice carries equal weight. Accountability is also hugely important to her. She knows that people can make mistakes ( even though she so rarely does ) but taking ownership of such things goes a long way in her books.

Headcanons

She has a Ferrari 250 GT Berlinetta Lusso  that she adores and will be found driving at any free moment she had. Not that there’s a lot of them. But basically Margaery Tyrell has a slick ride so click here for vibes.

Lives right next door to Loras because, well, he’s her best friend.

She grows rose plants on her balcony to humour her mother but her favourite plants are the orchids that she keeps inside her flat.

Other than sleeping she is rarely still. She loves being active and if she’s not working she’s doing some sort of sport, at her foundation, socialising or volunteering. It’s impossible for her to feel content simply being, she feels as though she’s wasting time.

Connections

Can be found here! But I would also love any of her canon ladies, Garlan & Willas.

[makeste]

Favorite BnHA OST Tracks

anon I never thought this day would come. (థ ｪ థ) 

I fucking adore this OST. and no one has ever asked me about it. which is fine, but I think we all need to just take a moment to acknowledge that the BnHA soundtrack fucking slaps. I’m not just saying that as a fan of the series; I’m saying it as objective fact. it’s up there with Zelda and Game of Thrones and How to Train Your Dragon. this soundtrack deserves all the love. and up till this point I’d resigned myself to loving it quietly, but now you have unlocked pandora’s box so I just hope you’re ready!!

I have... let’s see... six BnHA-related playlists right now lol. out of these, three are composed of tracks from the OST (the other three are my character-inspired playlists. wait, did I say three? actually there’s four of those. so seven in all. good lord). this soundtrack gets a lot of play, you guys. when I like something, I have a tendency to put it on repeat until I’m sick of it. so if I never get sick of it, you can imagine how that ends up going.

I was going to do a top ten of this, but then I went through the playlist and wrote down all my favorites and there were like thirty. I briefly entertained the idea of just saying FUCK IT I’LL JUST POST THEM ALL!!!!, but I had to sit myself down and lecture myself about having some goddamn self control. so I narrowed it down to like... twenty-three. and then finally down to seventeen. soo, it’s a top ten, plus seven honorable mentions. this is the best I can do guys. this is taking everything I’ve got, so please just humor me this once.

I promise this post won’t be super long. I’m not even gonna put it under a cut. I will restrain myself. okay here we go.

 10. Bombing King!!

Katsukiiiiii. I couldn’t not put this here, who the hell do you think I am. it’s perfect for him. it’s rowdy (I love how it just crashes in with those opening drums and guitar without so much as a how-do-you-do), but it’s got a real drive to it, and a fucking legit leitmotif that can be cut into sections and remixed in any number of ways (see: number 4). if you want to make it sad you can make it sad. want to make it even more badass, you can definitely do that. it makes me excited because there’s so many ways to play around with it for his future character development.

9. Cavalry Battle

this track makes me want to go out and cause a ruckus. it’s so full of energy and there’s an optimism to it, but like a clever, resourceful optimism. I love when the melody smooths out at around 1:14. it’s like, the team is coming together and we’re gonna kick some ass. they should play this in promos for the Olympics.

8. Nevertheless, Go Beyond

this makes me want to save the world. this one actually gets bonus points for the title because it’s so emotive, and somehow nails the exact feeling that the music manages to convey. even when you can’t go on, go on. you’re a hero. people are depending on you. get up.

7. All For One

ooooooohhhhhh my gooodddddddd. “The Power of All For One” is arguably the creepier track, but this one is more epic. it sends chills down my spine. he’s so fearsome. only the strongest of the strong can hope to defeat him. good vs evillllllll. god the bass in this is so good. and the vocals. and the frenzied urgency of the strings. and the Inception-stype WHOOOOOOOM at the end ugh.

6. Your Power

I almost went with “I Absolutely Won’t Use the Heat (Left)” because it’s so sad and haunting, but in the end this version won out because, as with the All For One track above, it’s the more epic of the two. I really consider them to be two parts of the same track though. anyways, so Todoroki’s motif is hands down the most haunting on the OST. fact. it’s so goddamn tragic?? and this version of it has that resounding drum beat that to me feels like a kind of grim determination. it’s a great track, and perfect for that theatrical Todoroki family drama lol.

5. My Hero Academia

this traccccccck. is so good. it makes me picture someone standing on the edge of a cliff at dawn looking down on the city below. it’s just got this kind of legendary feel to it somehow. this is an “only the beginning of the adventure” type of track. I also associate this with Iida unveiling his Reciproburst during the Sports Festival arc, because it was used so fucking well during that scene. “everyone, there’s less than a minute left...” I honestly get chills every time I watch that. it’s like quintessential BnHA.

4. Katsuki and Izuku

guys. I don’t want to throw the word “masterpiece” around all willy-nilly, but this. this, right here, is why I like character motifs so much. because you can play with them and wind them apart and together and bam, just like that you’re telling a fucking story. so anyways, in case you didn’t know, this track combines You Say Run/Jet Set Run (a.k.a. Deku’s themes) with Bombing King!! (a.k.a. Katsuki’s theme). bringing the two of them together through the power of music ffff why am I so weak to this shit. when You Say Run kicks in at around 26 seconds I fucking looooose it. then when Katsuki’s theme first joins in at around 52 seconds I lose it all over again. this is a better arrangement of it than Bombing King tbh. which is perfect, because the whole point of their story is that the two of them make each other better! anyways, they just complement each other so perfectly. IT’S LIKE THIS TRACK IS A METAPHOR FOR SOMETHING YOU GUYS. waiting on the anime to fucking use this in season 4, since it went unused in s3 despite them having all the opportunities in the world smdh. they might actually use it in the upcoming movie, come to think.

3. You Say Run

obviously. what else is there even to say. this is a fucking tour de force. chills every time. I know y’all came here for 2:05, but honestly the whole track is a rush from start to finish. I’m literally not exaggerating when I say that this music taught me the meaning of plus ultra. like on a spiritual level. music is cool. please don’t be mad at me that I only put it at third. if anything, that ought to tell you just how much I love the #1 and #2 tracks.

2. Hero A

I can play this on repeat for hours. not an exaggeration. this has the highest play count of any of my BnHA tracks. I’m not a naturally energetic person. I want to be, but I’m not. but this track is like a fucking life-hack to get you pumped the fuck up. and it’s so catchy, and it makes you feel so good, like you can really do anything. it might not be easy, but you can do it! I actually like the “you can be a hero/you say run” motifs in this track even better than the original tracks tbh. especially when it goes a bit quieter and then builds up again starting from 1:45, and then the percussion kicks in again, and it’s like something out of a Rocky movie. this track makes me fucking believe. it makes me want to try.

 and before we go to number one, here are some runner-ups. (by “some” I mean a fuckton more of them but my descriptions are shorter. compromise)

 You Can Be a Hero - the track that proved it’s possible to simultaneously make someone feel more inspired than they’ve ever been in their entire life while also causing them to ugly cry

Heroic Fighting Battle Song - why is the season 2 OST so fucking good

Go Seize It! - why is the season 2 OST so fucking good

The Threat of Offense and Defense - this theme makes me want to solve difficult puzzles very dramatically

Battle of Deku - this is just here because of Deku VS Kacchan part 2. I 100% associate it with that fight. it’s a great track, but it wouldn’t quite stand out among all the other tracks if it wasn’t for that. but that fight does exist, so now this track makes me think of rivals throwing down and it’s great

Yoarashi Inasa - specifically the part that starts in at 1:14. it’s like the Naruto and FLCL soundtracks had a really funky baby

People Always Reaching for the Top “the winner of the U.A. sports festival is...” the only reason this track isn’t higher is because I don’t feel like it stands quite as well on its own as some of the other tracks. but with context?? god. I love how this was used at the end of Bakugou VS Todoroki. it was just the perfect cue for that scene. so good.

 ...bonus runner-ups because I’m a fucking liar and have no self-control at all

 From Me to You - this is the one used when Kacchan joins the scooby squad. it’s quiet and sad and hopeful all at once. the perfect theme for something ending and something else beginning

Rampaging Evil - I associate this with Tomura. it’s badass and usually means that some hardcore shit is happening

Predecessor’s Sworn Friend - this track is some straight up Cowboy Bebop shit. badass grandpa gettin to work

 okay, without any further ado let’s finish up with number one

 1. One for All Vs. All for One

good. versus. evil. this is epic incarnate. how is it so good. I have so many feels about it oh god. it’s so desperate and so determined at the same time. it perfectly conveys this image of one person, almost at their limit, standing alone against something terrible, and somehow reaching deep within themselves to summon the courage to fight. it is beautiful. it is powerful as shit. it may just be the most heroic thing I’ve ever heard.

 so that’s my top ten twenty! rest assured, this is still leaving a lot out. like the rest of the entire goddamn soundtrack. god this series fucking spoils us.

[vldchaewon]

a playlist consisting of  8  tracks that remind me of chaewon.   (  listen here + plus one bonus track because spotify doesn’t have track 7  )

track 001: rainbow kitten surprise, painkillers.

“living just comes with a bit of heartache, heartache comes with a bit of young faith faith stays young ‘til your heart gets broken, hope grows up to become someday i’ll never hurt no one and no one will ever hurt me, i believe, i believe, i believe faith plays dumb ‘til the doubts all leave.”

chaewon has always been laughably optimistic. a lot of people misunderstand her as being naive, and she’ll never correct them; she doesn’t think naive is a bad thing to be, anyway. the truth is that she’s just as uncertain as everyone else, but she’s found that the best way to silence her self-doubt is to fake confidence until it becomes real. you could say that she has too much faith in the universe, but sometimes, faith is exactly what you need to become who you want to be.

track 002: lauv, billy.

“to all the people that were mean, he just channeled your energy. and hey, look who’s laughing now, he said thank you for your doubts. and to the people that believed, he just channeled your energy.”

chaewon definitely wasn’t destined to become an idol. she was a clumsy, awkward kid without an ounce of coordination, and when she first started dancing, she was laughed at endlessly — even by her family. everyone tried to gently turn her away from performing, but she pretended that she didn’t know what they were doing and used their laughter as motivation to get better. to make sure that no one would ever have a reason to laugh at her again.

track 003: onlychild, lost.

“together we will never be lost, keep running and we’ll never be caught. and once you get the feeling, don’t stop, together we will never be lost.”

chaewon is the type of person who lives in the moment and takes every risk, regardless of the probability of failure. she believes that the only way to get what she wants out of life is to run towards it without fear — this applies to anything from her bigger goals like becoming an idol to the smaller ones, like just having a good day. she tries to encourage those around her to have the same outlook.

track 004: sleeping at last, body.

“there’s magic in our bones, a north star in our soul that remembers our way home. god, it’s easy to forget that there’s magic in all of this.”

all things considered, chaewon views life as a very beautiful experience. she’s able to find something positive in even the worst circumstances ( even if it’s a reach ), and that optimism helps her to enjoy every moment while it lasts. she’s constantly reminding herself of what a blessing it is so be alive, to be here, to have the opportunities that she has. she’s the only one living life through her eyes, and to her, that’s magical.

track 005: lorde, team.

“we live in cities you’ll never see on screen; not very pretty, but we sure know how to run things. living in ruins of a palace within my dreams and you know, we’re on each other’s team.”

as much as chaewon truly does want to be an idol, she can’t deny how difficult the process is. it takes a toll on even the strongest people, and she’s sure that it will only be harder when she debuts and everyone’s watching even more than they already are. but she doesn’t let the bad things crush her spirits — she’s excited for her future and where it will take not only her, but the other members of lark, too. they’re a team, and as long as she’s with them, she’s confident that she’ll be okay.

track 006: ajr, 100 bad days.

“100 bad days made 100 good stories, 100 good stories make me interesting at parties. no, i ain’t scared of you, no, i ain’t scared of you no more.”

a lot of bad ( ahem —— embarrassing ) things happen to chaewon, but she wouldn’t change any of it. to live a life with no obstacles can hardly be called living, and even if something gets her down in the moment, she can usually look back on it and laugh, or at least be happy that it’s a thing of the past. at this point, she’ll gladly tell life to do its worst.

track 007: alec benjamin, on your speakers.

“tell me you won’t forget. remember the night we met, rewind like an old cassette and i’ll be the song that’s on your speakers, playing for you, you, you.” 

everything about chaewon’s life before she became a trainee was inglorious, and in my ways, her life still is. there’s nothing that she’s ever wanted so much as to become someone she can be proud of, someone who can cause the best kind of scene and leave things different than they were before she found them. she’s ready to take on the world, but at the same time, she’s afraid of leaving behind who she was and even who she will be. she never wants things to end, but she knows everything has to, sooner or later, so she only hopes to leave such a mark on people that the memories will remain forever.

track 008: this wild life, catie rae.

“you’ve always been just what i’m missing, but never ever knew. you’ve always earned just what you’re given, never handed to you. you’ll always be my best decision, my one and only truth. you’ll always be my heartbeat, my rhythm, it’s always been you.”

this is a love song, BUT i think it depicts how chaewon feels about lark very well. she’s always wanted to be a performer, but she probably wouldn’t still be so passionate about it if she wasn’t grouped with girls whom she loves to the end of the earth. she always seemed confident & like she knew where she was headed, but chaewon didn’t know what she was walking into when she joined summit media. but she found something better than she ever could’ve hoped for with the girls; her loyalty will always lie with lark.

[gldncge-blog]

         ❝  ----------- 𝖆 𝖌𝖔𝖑𝖉𝖊𝖓 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖆 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊

                                    illya masnik. luke hemmings. twenty four. bianchi aligned.

【  ✞ ———— 𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕝𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 】

◟ * ◊ ─  luke hemmings + cis male + he/him » * believe it or not illya masnik is working for the bianchi family. they are 24 years of age and are known to usually spend their time around buena vista apartments. the singer, who has been a part of the alliance for 2 years, has been living in victoria for 5 years. the people closest to them describe the pansexual + pisces to be + stolid and + conscientious as well as - equivocal and -resentful » ◦ ° delphi, twenty, she/them, est◝

【  ✞ ———— 𝕠𝕠𝕔 】

first name illya. last name masnik. middle name regret. which,, honestly same. wow hi i’m super excited for this. this is what ive been waiting for and y’all look hella talented. hi hello i’m delphi and as expected i’m late to the party :’) this is my bb illya who should probably be dead by now. yeehaw. my muses??? they exist to suffer. thats the sparknotes version of it. but ill put a whole unnecessarily lengthy thing about him below sdlkjsald. i’m in the est and i’m currently working full time but im so happy opening is on a sunday because i can actually be here for it sjkdas but enough about meme !! 

【  ✞ ———— 𝕙𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 】

BORN IN KIEV, UKRAINE - illya would be the eldest of four children. his mother an adventurous american woman, and his father a man who had never left his homeland. their son was a happy child who spent most of his days and nights at the local church. a fate one could not avoid when their father was the church’s ever dutiful music director. it shocked no one when the eldest masnik boy soon became a constant fixture in the youth choir. looking like he may have found his niche, his parents pushed him to hone his talents. his free time not spent in worship was reserved for vocal lessons. in time, illya outgrew the pews. as a teenager, he instead chose to perform in festivals, cafes, and the venues that would have him. while he was successful in ukraine, he’d soon decided he’d like to finish his studies in the united states, believing there to be better and bigger opportunities in america. 

AT NINETEEN - he found a home in victoria, florida. his mother’s hometown. his studies never truly panned out like they should have, wasting a year majoring in theology before officially throwing in the towel and returning to music full time. the next few years were spent building up a resume. odd jobs that barely paid the bills. things only began to turn up when he began landing jobs as the backing vocals for groups. it had started small, not much money in it nor recognition --- but he slowly climbed the ladder. an undeniable talent. in time he landed a job as the backup vocals for a band famous enough to earn him some status. the band embarked on a small tour around the states, and while it had been fun, illya quickly came to realize it wasn’t the life for him. in actuality it was not the spotlight he desired, no, he’d come to miss the little things about his passion. the smaller cafes and venues often led to tighter bonds. a more humbling experience that allowed him to truly connect with his audience. like the days back home, under god’s watchful eye. 

TWENTY TWO - and life as he knows it ends. for better or for worse. a flame in his life plants the idea in his head. the bills were starting to pile up again and desperation seemed to be a constant state. PLAYERS. it’s no place he’d normally be found. the sort of joint he’d sooner cross the street to avoid. but his lover promises security. stability. burdened with a touch of naivety, he’s sold.

PLEAD IGNORANCE - all he wants. he knew what he’d stepped into the moment he crossed the door’s threshold. there were no gods here. no savior. no salvation. you’d be eaten alive.

IT PAYS - wasn’t that all that mattered. most days he’s good at turning a blind eye to what happens behind closed doors. a false picture of innocence. skin with no traces of ink or metal, liquor that never makes it to his lips. the constant struggle to not lose the boy he was back home. but no one there was innocent, innocence was a lamb to the slaughter. two years in and he regrets it. of course he does. three long years since he’s seen his family. the masnik’s youngest now refuses to speak to the long-departed illya. birthdays, graduations, holidays, funerals, he’s missed them all. bitter, he longs for home, but fears he’s found himself in too deep. innocence was a lamb to the slaughter, and he could not afford to be the lamb amongst wolves.

【  ✞ ———— 𝕤𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕤 / 𝕕𝕦𝕞𝕓 𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕥 】

essentially illya was born in ukraine. his family was super religious and he spent a lot of time in church, also due to the fact his father was the music director there. he obviously had a natural talent in the choir and his family helped him pursue music by getting him lessons and stuff. he does a good handful of cool stuff in ukraine and decides he wants to study in america ( where his mother and her family are from ) and also sees it as an opportunity to grow musically. obviously the scene in america is pretty hard to get into, so he still does small cafe like things until he starts doing backing tracks/vocals for bands. starts off really small but he starts to work for bigger bands/companies until eventually, he gets enough recognition to go on tour with a well-enough known band. don’t imagine them to be super famous, but enough to have a handful of radio hits. 

decides he’s not crazy about the touring band life and wants to return to working in smaller more personal venues. works for a bit until the money starts to run out and then his partner at the time suggested applying at players ( they would have been part of the gang so it was his in ). he does so ( obviously ) gets in and likes to play innocent but he has a pretty good idea of what he’s getting into, don’t be fooled. still kind of churchy / anal, doesn’t do the whole tattoo, piercing, drinking, wild life. he’s more reserved if anything. he’s really still trying to hold on to that holy life. newsflash, asshole. it’s gone.

now he’s starting to regret everything :) #somerugrats but obviously, he’s going to be super tightlipped about that and just carry on. in reality, he’s super homesick and he knows his family life is suffering. he’s missing giant milestones for his siblings back home and now his youngest brother won’t even talk to him so yeehaw. but uhh he’s not really sure he’d be good to just up and walk away because he’s in a bit deep now, two years deep. he’s probably seen some shit. 

if he was brave enough to tell his family something was up it would probably go something along the lines of “ mom, i think i joined a cult ” 

he wants to be that peace out gif THIS one,, yeah

he’s gonna die,, dumbass is 100% gonna get himself killed. but for now, he’s gonna fake that shit till he makes it. no chill. 

【  ✞ ———— 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 】

pen pals / old friends ; okay since his mother was american - i’d imagine he’d come around as a kid to see her family ( his grandparents and stuff ). give me something cute like they hit it off as children and kept in touch all these years. or maybe his mom used to be friends with your muses parents so they met that way. 

someone toughen him up ; he’s awful. there’s a murderer out there and god i hope these string bean legs can run because self-defense???? we don't’ know the meaning of the word. gun?? not in my good christian server. someone just hELP him.

someone he takes home / travels with ; head out of the gutter. could be someone at players or they live in a similar location, and with a string of murders, it’s probably safer to not travel alone. so maybe they drive each other home on occasion or walk together. just keeping each other safe. 

 bad / good influence nonsense ; obviously he’d probably be the good influence on someone because he’s not really the bad type. so he might try to look out for someone he really sees burning out and going down a super bad path. vice versa, give me someone who really wants him to get a tattoo or take that shot. someone remind him to live a little or do bad things. honestly,,, i’m a sucker for angst and stuff so it could even be more like getting him to stop being so paranoid about the darker aspects of the gang. if you think he isn’t turning around and hauling ass outta there when he sees a back room being used for beating someone or some other violent nonsense

someone who is suspicious of his doubts ; obviously he’s trying to play his cards pretty close to his chest and doesn’t voice his concerns to anyone. but i’d love to see some people who question his hesitance or might be on to him having doubts about continuing to be in the gang. he’s not going to own up to any accusations but this could add some interesting tension and make for interesting interactions.

people he avoids at all costs / fear ; these would be the more violent members of the gangs. maybe your muse has a reputation. this is probably suitable for characters who are out there committing murder in the name of the gang or commit violent acts. he tries to steer pretty clear of that but they’re likely passing through players and stuff. they’re bound to run into each other. bonus points if they’re not actually as dangerous as they seem - illya’s just paranoid, maybe he walked in on something he shouldn’t have and i- OOP

the flame that got him involved in the gang ( 0 / 1 ) ;  really i was just gonna throw this up as a wc but sdjsadj ill stick it here as well. really this could be an exes plot, probably with a lot of resentment on illya’s part. he may have been open with them about wanting to go back home, and blames them for his situation even though he knew what was happening. its just bitter bitter bitter. 

[spacetimewraithwrites-archive]

OC Interview Tag Game

@sidhewrites said “do this if you want” and my dumb brain said “I want!”

Rules: Pick a character from your WIP and have them answer these fifteen questions, then tag fifteen people.

I’m tagging @starlitesymphony this time because her characters are great and I wanna know more forever

1. What is your full name?

Uh, Warren Levi Cougar.

2. What does your full name mean?

Hmm....

[From his jacket pocket he pulls out a device that looks like an advanced smartphone and types into it.]

According to this, Warren means “guard,” Levi means “joined in harmony,” and I don’t think I need to explain what a cougar is. If there are any of the cat version left on Earth, go out and find one, then pet it real hard.

[He smiles cheekily at the camera. Thrive rolls his eyes in the corner of the room.]

3. What are your nicknames/other names?

I’ve always just kinda been Warren. My parents and grandparents would give me the full First and Middle when they were pissed at me for something. Sometimes Thrive will call me “love” or....

[He looks at him expectantly. Thrive gives a small nod. “Th’saiya.”]

Yeah, that one’s real special.

4. What’s your gender?

Male.

5. What’s your sexuality?

Gay. So gay. I still don’t know if...that was like, dormant inside of me my whole life or if it kinda manifested later on, but I’ve only known it for the past, what...three years? Three of my years. I’m still trying to get used to acknowledging the gay.

In retrospect, though, I think I remember there were signs when I was a kid. Girls always made me kinda feel out of place, just in the romance department...whenever it’d become clear a girl had a crush on me my gut instinct was to shut it down immediately but usually I ended up going with it anyway. I think I tried to explain it away as a shyness thing, it just never even crossed my mind that that was what was going on. I think it wasn’t even until I met Agent Freddy Great that it kinda tickled my brain and I started to put together the feelings and what they meant for who I was as a person.

Wow, that was a slow burn, wasn’t it? Took me ten whole years to be like, “Um, excuse me, I think I kinda would rather fuck dudes, actually.”

6. Where are you from?

I was born and raised in a sleepy little Alaskan town called Somerwilde. Maybe not so much sleepy ‘cause it was cold as fuck.

[He laughs.]

7. How old are you?

God, I don’t know.

[“You’re thirty-two.”]

Yeah, but what month is it? I hate trying to keep track of time when I’m in space. I could already be thirty-three.

[“I would tell you if your birthday passed.”]

Yeah, I guess you would. Well, actually, in that case, I’m....

[He does some quick calculations in his head.]

...Two hundred and fifty-six years old? 

8. What is your magic form/what species are you?

I’m human. I think? I have doubts.

9. What does your human form look like?

Okay, uh...my human form is my only form, but I’ve got...kinda somewhere between brown and beige skin, I think I’ve heard it described as terracotta or tawny...my hair is deep brown with some hints of umber reddish-orange...kinda shaggy right now, I haven’t gotten it cut in a while, it’s developing its natural curl again.

My eyes are bright aqua, I’ve got a gnarly case of stubble since I haven’t had time to shave in the last few days...I’m a little on the tubby side—

[“You look fine, Warren,” Thrive interrupts gently. “You still haven’t gained back the weight you lost almost obsessively while you were incarcerated on the Destiny.”]

I haven’t exactly been able to find the time to stuff my face lately.

10. What’s your aesthetic?

Forests, lots of flannel, frozen lakes....

[“You’re more or less describing things that can be found on or around you at any point in time.”]

Jesus Christ, babe, I didn’t talk nearly as much during your interview.

11. Who’s your best friend?

Well...

[He pauses, then his face falls slightly.]

Esther was, for a long time. God, I haven’t thought about her in a little bit. And that’s terrible of me because, to me, it wasn’t that long ago that I last saw her.

...It’s been difficult to come to terms with being so far ahead in the future, I just...never really get the chance to let myself fully let it sink in. I guess part of me doesn’t want to. Anyway...let’s move ahead before I get emotional.

12. Would you ever get a piercing/tattoo?

I’ve had my ear pierced before. I’d do again, honestly. I wouldn’t mind having a cool thread earring like Guetry wears sometimes.

As for tattoos, I guess I never thought about it before.

[He suddenly flexes his left hand and rubs his ring finger.]

Maybe I could get something here, for me and you?

[Thrive raises his eyebrows. “That’s permanent.”]

That’s the point.

13. When are you happiest?

When I’ve got a big nebula right in my face. There is nothing in the universe that makes me feel more at peace than when I’m out there in a ship, just being one with the stars. It’s so calming. I can’t really even fall asleep anymore if I can’t see the stars somehow. That’s why I always demand to have a window in my quarters on any ship I’m occupying. Bonus points if Thrive’s there.

More bonus points if I can see his butt.

14. What’s your biggest secret?

Hmm. I guess it would...technically be the reason I was put into cryo in the first place? I don’t like to talk about it all that much, it was kinda...traumatic. I think I’m still trying to recover.

You know, I believe in my heart of hearts that someday I’ll be able to go forty-five minutes without being traumatized by something.

[Thrive lets out a mild chuckle.]

15. What was your first impression of [Guetry]?

Well, he kinda just...if he had his way I think he would’ve dropped onto my lap and introduced himself. In fact, I’m kinda surprised he didn’t.

He’s not all that different after getting to know him than he was when we first met. He was having a good day, so his eye makeup was killer, his hair was teased and I think he might’ve spent more time on his appearance that day than he did actually tracking down the allegiant he was chasing at the time. He was fun, is fun. Poster boy for extroversion. He’s probably the closest thing I have to a best friend these days.

In other words, Guetry was a big dumb fool then and he’s a big dumb fool now but we love him and wouldn’t have him any other way, right?