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thiccpersonality · 1 year ago

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The Realization

It's hard being the only human in a team full of meta-humans, aliens or straight up gods, but Bruce manages to get by...even if internally he's overly critical of the work he does, always comparing himself to others and telling himself to do better. But, he secretly counts his blessings one-by-one at how he has friends colleagues that reassure him everyday that he does so much-yes, even when he doesn't ask for it...Clark always tells him it's in his eyes, that's how he knows Bruce wants it.

Bruce finds that stupid though, the only thing in his eyes is exhaustion, and if not exhaustion, then anger; and if not anger, then it's probably a cocktail of self-loathing, self-hate and self-deprecation sprinkled with a healthy dose of "I wish I was dead."

Anyhow, Bruce counts his blessings secretly, even if it doesn't seem like he's doing so. And while it's hard being one of the only humans without a power in a group full of meta-humans or fully fledged super powered beings, he is grateful for the other aspects of power he has: his name, his face, his money, influence-and one of his actual favorites...when he's in a good mood-his body. Bruce isn't an idiot (Jason: "Not all the time anyway!"), he sees the way people eye him up and down, both men and women alike, he knows their thoughts towards him...or well, his body at least.

He has seen the way women eye his arms and pecs (Wally: "You mean, Batboobs®!? And doesn't everyone eye those?"), watches the way mens eyes glaze over when staring at his mile long legs.

Which brings us to how Bruce never truly feels small, not anymore at least. Even if he was of smaller height for a man (or in general) his position in life and as a hero/vigilante would make him feel and appear big to people. So, Bruce hasn't felt small in a very long time, he tends to not pay attention to things like height much-to reiterate: he never feels small because 1. He isn't and 2. Even if he was, who would be brave enough to tell one of the richest men on earth-let alone THE Batman that he's short?

The answer: no one.

So while Bruce has never had anyone say to his face that he's short, he's the World's Greatest Detective™ (Jason and Stephanie: "Ehhhh...occasionally.) and can see for himself the difference of him compared to everyone else.

Who is everyone else you ask? Well, it's the people he works with and-and Jason. It's kind of hard for Bruce to truly pay attention to height when he never pays attention to it in the first place or when he's usually in life-threatening situations to really care, in fact, he doesn't know why he is even obsessing over such a thing-'but you do know'-his mind replies. The thing Bruce hates most is that he does-he does know what kick-started this whole height thing, and it was his son; Jason.

XXX

It was any other normal day at Wayne Manor...if you count your son entering your top-secret cave injured as normal. Bruce had his mask off, his icy blue eyes analyzing the information on his computer unblinkingly, there's been an issue with abductions recently and he doesn't want to waste any time on finding out who is up to it, so Bruce has been working overtime (Alfred in a tired tone: "As usual...") trying to find out who it is.

Just as his brain is stringing something together, he hears the sound of a motorcycle outside the Cave, Bruce's brain immediately switches to finding out who it could be. He takes into account every person already inside the house, outside of it, what said people outside said they were doing until his brain very obviously deduces that it must be Jason. Hm? Should he heat some leftovers up for Jason? What is the other here for? Why is he even overthinking it? Jason is free to come over anytime he wants...

....

.....

......

But what if the reason is bad? Is Jason mad at him again? Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose from the sudden headache he gets from his mind panicking, the man just groans softly and turns around just in time to see Jason riding into the Cave, his eyebrow raising suspiciously at the lack of fancy tricks his son bothered not doing.

Bruce silently analyzes his son's body for any signs of distress, starting from his head, he immediately noticed the crack in the helmet and can feel his muscles tighten in worry before remembering he's trained his kids to fight and be able to receive hits as well. The thing that causes him to stand up though is the fact that Jason hasn't noticed him yet, and the way the young man is holding his side isn't helping to ease Bruce's racing mind.

"Jason, is everything alright?"

Hm? Was that too forward of him? Bruce knows his children, but he especially knows Jason and Damian hate being asked for signs of-what they deem as-weakness and injury (Damian sipping his tea: "Wonder where we learned that from, father?)

Jason finally looks up at Bruce, his tone sounding a bit slurred as he speaks, "Jus' fine, B. A little-" he grunts as he stumbles off his bike-"scratch never...hurt me." Okay, so it's more than a little scratch, Bruce catches Jason and can't control the immediate frown he makes when the boy doesn't bother fighting his hold. "What actually happened? It's not just a little scratch...you are clutching your side like you've been sh-" his breathing hitches at the words he almost uttered, w-was Jason actually-

"What? S-Shot? Why's it matter if-" Jason quiets down when Bruce's words finally process, his baby blue's widening under his mask at the small ways his dad is starting to panic from the thought-"No! I was jus' stabbed is all...no shots."

Bruce will get on himself later about how his body relaxed a bit more when finding out his child wasn't shot, I mean, what kind of father feels relieved that their kid was just stabbed? He knows-deep down-that it's his...ahem..."trauma response" to guns, but it sucks for him to realize he finds himself more at ease when people he knows are hurt in different ways that aren't a gun...he feels like a horrible person when it happens.

For now though, his main priority is his son who is losing blood, blood that Bruce is finally noticing on Jason's hand.

Bruce grunts as he brings his son closer to his body, feeling momentarily surprised when he lets out the sound from moving the younger. Since when did he ever grunt when moving his children? Another thing is, when did Jason get so heavy in the first place? When did his once small boy pack on so much muscle and-oh, God...please...when did Jason ever have to bend his knees when Bruce held him?

His body is on autopilot and he can feel himself moving to the medical table, but his eyes are busy staring at Jason's bent knees, his mind screaming at him that this must be a prank his son is pulling-oh! Or maybe Bruce is actually in an alternate universe where his child is bigger than him.

Bruce sucks in a deep breath when arriving at the table, gently lying his son down so he can get to work on stitching his boy up while also giving a (most likely) hypocritical lecture on how Jason should stay safe.

XXX

It was ever since that day that Bruce has been hyper fixated on his own height, along with the height of others. He hates how he's been sneaking in tests and making things awkward with his family because he chooses not to answer and instead rushes off to panic when realizing Jason is bigger than him.

It all happened as soon as Jason was patched up too, his mind recalls every stupid miniscule little detail, from Jason's clothes to the way his hair was messy from sleep and-the worst part-how he had to look up at the nineteen-year-old when the young man got close enough to him. Barefoot and all. The worst part is how Jason didn't even seem to notice it, and Bruce is NOT risking letting his son know, because then he will be picked on for being smaller than him and then his Bluejay will no doubt drag his siblings into this.

Not to mention how Bruce doesn't want to deal with a furious Damian who will demand that they, in his words, "stop disrespecting father before he slits their throats."

It has been a miserable couple months for him-and don't you judge him for keeping this obsession up for months! How is anyone-let alone a parent-supposed to process that they are shorter than their kid? Bruce holds back his frustrated tears at realizing his children are grown and growing, for goodness sakes, he had a meltdown just yesterday when it caught up to him that Richard is a fully grown man...he will never let anyone know about how he clutched onto old pictures of his eldest while crying.

And everyday Bruce is hoping and praying against Damian's growth...of course he doesn't want his son to be stunted in his puberty process...but if he decides to stay little forever then that is perfectly okay with him.

Besides panicking over his family's growth, which, yay for them...really, Bruce has been noticing-and I mean, TRULY noticing, his friends colleagues heights. There are certain people where it's just so noticeable, like J'onn for example, that guy is so huge that you are stupid if you don't notice it. Another hero is Big Barda, I mean, she's a seven foot tall woman...you would obviously notice that.

But there are just some people he noticed it with but it didn't bother him before (thank you Jason for kick-starting this!) And now Bruce is constantly comparing himself to the most closest of colleagues to one's he barely speaks to, it's insane how many files he's gone through just to look at heights. His two closest friends colleagues Diana and Clark are two people he didn't bother with height wise. It didn't matter since they made him feel small in different ways...I mean, you have the Amazonian princess with strength and skills that would put any living creature to shame and a Kryptonian that is more human than most humans, who truly has a heart of gold despite any negative views towards him.

And then there is Bruce: cold, stoic, a touch too sarcastic, jaded, cynical, a negative Nancy, a party pooper (Jason says that), no fun, emotionally stunted, anxious, depressed, stressed, old, washed up, unfunny-and the worst of all; short.

Bruce holds back his distressed noise as Wally West, AKA: Richard's best friend who has been over a million times, stands next to him with that ever bright smile of his and is animatedly talking, effectively ruining his depressing train of thought. When did he get so big? So...grown? He takes in the maturity of his once soft face, the man is still cute no doubt, but he isn't that same round faced boy who bothered him about Alfred's cookies. Okay, okay, maybe he still is that same kid...just older looking and taller now.

"-and that's why I'll need that penthouse full of Agent A's cookies."

Bruce blinks away the sudden wetness in his eyes and looks down (ha!) at The Flash confused, though to the normal eye he looks the same old disinterested as usual. "You need a penthouse? What happened to that modest apartment you got?" Wally blinks in shock behind his mask before giving a toothy smile, "Is that what your mind got from that? I was joking about the penthouse...though Agent A's cookies would still be much appreciated."

The ginger shifts in place nervously at the way Batman is staring at him, did he do something wrong? The only thing that somewhat assures Wally that things are okay is the fact that Bruce gives a grunt of agreement before walking off.

He can't take this anymore! If Bruce stays around Wally any longer he's afraid he'll start crying in front of the kid. Instead, he'll just head to the cafeteria and drown his sorrows in today's dessert. Bruce walks in and sees that Diana is already in line, holding back his grumble as he stands next to the woman and internally mourns the fact his head only reaches her shoulder. "Good morning, my friend! It's a lovely day in space is it not?"

Bruce grunts and doesn't bother looking up at Diana, "It's the same view we see everyday we come up to the Watchtower."

The Amazonian just smiles brighter, warmth radiating from her mood. "Though we see it everyday it doesn't make it any less gorgeous up here." Bitterness. Bruce's heart is filled with bitterness at the words "up" and "here" , is-is Diana teasing him? Did she somehow find out about his fixation and is now subtly letting him know that she knows?

The feeling of warmth, like that from the sun, at his right side causes Bruce to automatically look up at the person standing so close to him. His icy blue eyes only widen under his mask at fully tilting his head back to look up at Clark, he feels like sobbing when realizing his head only comes to Clark's chest, why is the man even taller than Diana!?

"Good morning Bruce, Diana. Lovely morning up here, is it not?"

There's that stupid word again! And is it really a good morning when he's been suffering for so long? Bruce frowns at the gentle nudge at his side and Diana's jovial tone, "Told you the view is still beautiful." At Clark's questioning look Diana just smiles more, "Our friend here just is being a sourpuss today. He's grumpy about how I said the view is nice, he just replied about how we see it everyday."

Clark just smiles and looks down at Bruce, his smile turning amused when his friend doesn't move up the line. "Are you just going to stare at me all morning or will you move down the line?"

A scoff is all Bruce can give, not noticing the concerned looks shared over his head as he focuses on piling his food tray with dessert. The concern isn't necessarily from Bruce eating sweets, Diana and Clark both know how much their friend actually has a sweet tooth, the issue is coming from the fact he is willingly eating sweets in front of others on top of the amount it is. Clark just frowns worriedly and sits actual food on his plate while mouthing to Diana about what's wrong with Bruce.

In return, the princess just shakes her head and looks back down at Bruce, choosing to speak up. "You know, it's been awhile since we've eaten alone, just the three of us. Why don't we head to one of our rooms or something?" What she actually means by that is: "let's get Bruce alone so we can figure out what's wrong with him."

The two super powered heroes find themselves even more putoff at Bruce's distracted grunt...it is rare he pulls that one out, usually his grunts have some level of awareness to them, but this one is telling them that he's not actually paying attention. Which is cause for alarm in and of itself. Plus, Clark and Diana have been getting calls from Bruce's family, they are worried about how he's been acting as of late. They report Bruce is running off on them whenever they ask him what's wrong...which actually isn't out of character for Bruce, but if the Batfamily are saying it's different than usual, then it's different than usual.

The two taller heroes lead the shorter to his room, punching his code in before the door opens and they watch as Bruce automatically walks over to his bed and sits on it, shoving a cookie in his mouth and causing Clark to signal to Diana in confirmation that something is wrong.

They use their friend's distracted state to quietly talk about it while joining him in the room, "What's going on with him?" Diana raises her brow as she asks, tilting her head up and to the side so Clark can whisper in her ear. "I don't know for sure...but his lip is jutting out into a micro-pout. I quickly scanned him to see if he was hiding injuries, and while he's not, his muscles are tense as if he's holding back something."

Diana softly ah's and sets her tray down on Bruce's desk, the noise causing the man to look up at them finally. His eyebrows raising when noticing he's in his room, "Why didn't we just eat in the cafeteria?" Bruce holds back his fidgeting at the look the taller two heroes share.

Clark clears his throat, "We were going to originally...but we noticed you were acting off and suggested eating in one of our rooms as a test-"

Diana, being one to never hold back, gets to the point. "A test you failed, Bruce. To be honest, you've been acting off enough to worry your family into calling us to step in. So, can you please tell us what's going on?" Bruce feels genuine embarrassment that this is where his fixation has gotten him, he's too flustered to admit that his issue is the fact he's begun to notice people are bigger than him, I mean, what kind of issue is that?

At Bruce's silence Clark steps forward slightly, his voice patient and gentle when he speaks.

"We are your friends, B. Heck, you even feel like family. And family is there for each other just like me and Di are here for you. Jason has been feeling particularly bad lately...he says he didn't know what he did this time to make you so upset with him, you keep staring him down angrily only to storm off when he looks back at you."

Bruce feels angry with himself for letting such a stupid non-issue get this far. His looks of "anger" weren't anger towards Jason at all, he knows when he thinks hard about stuff he can sometimes look mean apparently, but he was never upset with his Jaylad...the distress was just showing on his face and Bruce most likely masked it with the first emotion that came to mind, one that's easiest for him to express or replicate; anger or irritation.

Bruce hates the involuntary distressed sound that escapes his crumb covered lips, however, for the sake of his family and ending this stupid misunderstanding, he chooses to be...honest (Batfamily: *collectively gasping*)

"Jason...he's bigger than me-" Bruce keeps the Batman mask on so he won't be too vulnerable, his hands tightening on the metal tray from the thought-"For months I have been noticing the sudden growth of my children and I...I didn't know what to do with that information. Did you know that Jason has to crouch when I hold him now? Since when did he need to do that?" At this point of his ranting, Bruce is out of bed and pacing across the room while his friends patiently listen.

"And then it hit me one day that Richard is truly a man now. Maybe that's why we got into so many fights before? I never truly realized that he didn't need my help like before-" Bruce pauses in the middle of the room and clenches his cape in his fists-"He is so much taller now and shining brighter than the little boy I picked up. Timmy is even starting to grow a bit more...which, I don't know if I should be upset or pleased that he's finally growing, that boy scares me sometimes with how small he was."

Bruce's hands instinctively reach up to run his fingers through his hair and he huffs at the mask being in the way, choosing to hide his hands underneath his cape instead.

"Wally is even so big now, did you know that? I remember the young boy with that fat freckled face pestering me about Alfred's cookies...and now that boy has the audacity to get big on me, I think I hate realizing that Dickie-bird is actually taller than his friend now, it's only by one or two inches-but still!" Bruce starts pacing again, his nerves building up once more and telling him to move.

"And don't get me started on Damian. I feel I constantly am trying to sabotage his growth...I never got to see him as a baby and so I hope he stays that small, chubby faced little boy I've come to know. I feel horrible for wishing against his growth, but I want to make his childhood as enjoyable as possible, did you know he didn't even know what movies were when he came here? He was deprived of fun and he can't grow too quickly now or fun childhood memories can't be made."

Bruce stops to finally stare at Diana and Clark, pointing accusingly at them.

"And then you two! I noticed it before, but it was never something of interest to me. I didn't need to pay attention to your heights when I feel small in other ways with you two...you-" Bruce grunts at Clark gently slamming into him and hugging him, the man sounding a mix of fond, touched, baffled and sad. "You don't need to feel small with us. I for one think you are bigger than any of us in many different ways...I mean, you just admitted to having a crisis at realizing your family grew."

Diana joins in on the hug with a soft chuckle, "I'm just surprised you didn't notice our height difference sooner. Clark and I always talked about how cute it is to pick you up, your our tiny human."

The woman just smiles more when Clark nudges her side in warning for her playful words, "But in all seriousness. This has to be the cutest moment we've seen from you ever, instead of a midlife crisis you are having a parental crisis-" Diana cackles again when Clark pokes her side again-"What? I am being serious. But also, this just shows how much you care...and I think it's only normal to feel this way when you never expected to have a family of your own in the first place."

Bruce's breath hitches at the gentleness in which Diana speaks the last part, his eyes prickling with tears at realizing deep down she's right. Ever since he took in Richard he was always amazed and scared at having a family, and no matter how much he's tried to deny it in his worst moments, that's what Richard became ever since he thought of taking him in. Bruce never expected a family, which is why he tries so hard to deny it...and I guess after years of taking care of children it's finally caught up to him that his family-more specifically, his children (because that's who they are) have grown into functioning adults.

He never thought he would want a family after losing his in that alleyway, but if anyone were to take down his defenses...of course it'd be a child.

Clark gently reaches up to tug Bruce's mask off and finds himself wanting to cry at seeing the fat droplets-hanging on for dear life-onto Bruce's eyes, even now his friend doesn't want to seem weak. He can't help but chuckle at the incredulous look Bruce gives him for wanting to cry as well.

"You can cry, Bruce. What are friends for?"

Bruce feels his face grow red, his body loosening in Clark and Diana's hold as months of tension leaves his being through his tears, choosing to hide his face in his friends strong bodies. He hates crying and how good it makes him feel afterwards, he doesn't think he deserves that feeling most days, but for now, it's okay. Bruce also can't help the eye roll at hearing Clark sniffle as well, he's such a crybaby. Diana just smirks at her two boys, carding her long, elegant fingers through Bruce's hair, the two taller heroes paying close attention to Bruce as he shifts in their hold and speaks up. Voice slightly muffled.

"Never speak about this to anyone."

Diana and Clark share a look before silently coming into agreement and lifting Bruce off his feet, reveling in his annoyed protests with laughter.

"We wouldn't dare."

("1. He isn't and 2. Even if he was, who would be brave enough to tell one of the richest men on earth-let alone THE Batman that he's short?" Does the second option imply or mean Bruce is short or is it just a scenario? You decide! I constantly switch between Bruce being a genuine short king and him just being around people that make him feel freaking short 😂.

"Clark gently reaches up to tug Bruce's mask off and finds himself wanting to cry at seeing the fat droplets-hanging on for dear life-onto Bruce's eyes, even now his friend doesn't want to seem weak." <-(Damian and Jason sipping on their tea: "Seems we found that answer to who we learned that from. 😌")

Also, I am so sorry this story got so long! I didn't mean to 😭. This idea has been in my head, and I usually forget my ideas...but this time I actually wanted to remember lol. This is also kind of based off of the one day I was hugging my baby brother and realized I actually had to look up at him...he's only 14 (while writing this I also just remembered he's 14 😭😭😭), I went back into my room and literally just sat there reminiscing on my bed about when he was brought home from the hospital to all the good times we had together and even things I wish I did different with him growing up 😂.

Also, also, I apologize for the constant whiplash from some semblance of humor (or something), to slightly crack-ish (I think so at least) writing to things getting deep and emotional. I was feeling fickle with the vibe of this story I guess, so I said: "why not everything?" 😂😂😂

This is getting even longer cause I like talking too much in notes lol, so I'm going to leave with a thank you! Anyone and everyone who bothers to read this long mess is very much appreciated!

Please remember to stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛)

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frownyalfred · 2 months ago

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Hey saw that mean bookmark you got and just wanted to say, for one thing anyone that does that shit should reconsider a few things. Primarily how they're engaging with fandom, if you don't like something, if you don't want to read sex scenes, if you don't like a trope, all of that is up to you how you engage with. There are thousands of Batman fics, Superbat included, that aren't explicit or only include fade to black style writing.

And for the other thing, what an author wants to write or enjoys isn't up to us to critique in a fandom space. I've never really gotten the pro/anti ship discourse cause I've always been pretty firm about sticking with a stay in your lane methodology. Sure, I prefer that people fully tag a fic so I know what's in it, but if they miss a tag I also possess the ability to back out. Nothing requires I keep reading it.

And most importantly, if you really want to read a fic but don't want to read the sex scenes? Just scroll. I'm not a big reader of explicit stuff, when I got curious about the coral room fics I did a lot of scrolling ngl. It's just not something I enjoy reading, but the rest of the fic was great and the plot was interesting so i didn't mind it. I think more people need to pick up that methodology. Don't want to read it? Don't read it. Don't want to read it he sex but want to read it? Probably a little weird I'll admit, but like the scroll features built in babes.

Sorry this got a little long, but just want to say as a writer I totally get the annoyance I fully dropped off a fic when I got a semi mean comment and years later I still struggle to pick it back up so don't let them get to you! They're just mean and think they can get away with stuff in an anonymous fashion. Call them out, and while we should avoid outright attacks let them be named and shamed at least in this little corner of the internet.

Thank you so much. Yeah, I don’t want people attacking them, but I also think if you’re bold enough to purposefully leave a mean PUBLIC bookmark, you should absolutely be fine with people seeing it and judging you.

I’m a big fan of scrolling! Dude, I love sex scenes, I like sex, and even some days I’m like “ehhhh get back to the plot please” and move on with my life. That doesn’t mean the fic is bad!

And as someone else mentioned on another post (thank you) that series isn’t super porn heavy, in relation to other plot events. There’s a LOT going besides sex, and you can absolutely scroll past those scenes (which I warn for at the beginning of every chapter).

You don’t get extra points for forcing yourself through a sex scene you don’t like and then complaining about it. You’re not a martyr, and again — the next chapter button is OPTIONAL. Somehow this person pressed it 31 times without realizing that.

#asks #anon #ao3 #archive of our own #myfic #theresurrectionist #a/b/o mention #a/b/o tw

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mutated-green-things · 2 months ago

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Stop Me if You've Heard This One Before

Words: 5,189

Pairing: April O'Neil & Leonardo, Leonardo/Usagi

Rating: T

Summary: Leonardo isn’t supposed to be here. He shouldn’t be skulking outside April’s window, working up the courage to knock. He should be healing, should be working on letting go of his self-directed rage, but he can feel the thorny question at the forefront of his mind ripping at stitches, unraveling the progress he’s made thus far. He has to expel the sharp edges somehow or soon he’ll be right back to where he started. And April will get it. April will understand. At least, he hopes so.

There’s more than one part of Leonardo that rebels against raising his hand and knocking on April O’Neil’s window. There will be questions, oh so many questions, and he knows he can only handle so many of those right now.

It’s late too. It would be impolite. He says this to himself like it’s an actual argument, but the sun has really only just set and April is a New Yorker, she too never really sleeps.

And she’s the only one who would understand. He hopes.

So he reigns in the rebelling parts of himself and raps his bulky hand against the glass. There’s a bit of shuffling and then sure enough, she answers. She’s clearly in an outfit that is more comfort than style, but she doesn’t look tired. Less so when she sees Leo’s face. Her eyes widen as they’re filled with sparks of surprise, and for a moment she just stares.

“Leonardo?” She blinks, then squints, like she’s sure she must have the wrong turtle. “Aren’t you supposed to be in a different dimension right now?”

Leo supposes that’s a fair question, but it isn’t one he’s entirely sure how to answer. He waves a hand back and forth and makes a sort of ’ehhhh’ sound. Then when her face starts to turn stern and disapproving, he jumps into his explanation.

“I’m feeling better! I think. I mean, I am. It’s just…” How does he explain this? Does he tell her all of it? He can barely even look at her right now, preferring instead to stare at his scaly, twiddling fingers.

Apparently, something about that is enough. When Leonardo looks up again, she doesn’t look confused or disappointed, instead her face has fallen into a melancholic kind of concern. She opens the window the slightest bit wider and steps back before gesturing Leo inside.

He double checks to make sure no one sees him, that he’s not been tailed. After several months away from New York, he’s glad to see so many of his instincts are still holding up. That, at least, is one small island of reassurance in the racing current of his mind. He doesn’t see or sense any watching eyes or mysterious shadows, so he steps into April’s apartment and out of the early spring chill.

“You can sit wherever. I was just making—“ A kettle whistles from around the corner. She gestures toward the sound, then slips into her too small kitchen to silence it.

Leo doesn’t sit. He’s too amped for that right now and is busy taking in all the little things he missed while in Usagi Miyamoto’s world. Central electric heating. He hadn’t worried about that in a long time, hadn’t thought about it. Not since they’d turned… eight? He remembered worrying about all the wiring work Don was doing around that age, so that was probably right. Maybe nine. Definitely not ten. Only a decade couldn’t be long enough ago, right?

Second Earth had quickly reacquainted him with sturdy iron stoves and the frigid nights without them.

The blazing electric lights in April’s apartment have almost become a wonder too, after being away for so long. Not their ease of use. He had prepared to miss that. In period pieces candles had always seemed… so much brighter, but actually trying to work or write or anything by candlelight was a hellish exercise in absolute frustration. How Usagi managed it without the eye strain headaches he would never understand.

“Is lavender still your favorite?” April calls from the kitchen and warmth radiates from Leo’s chest all the way up to his smile.

“You remembered,” he calls back.

She comes back around the corner with a teapot and two cups in hand almost too quickly. Too quickly for her to have been waiting for an answer on flavor anyway. She has a wry smile on her face. “Of course I remembered, you doof. You’re all so distinct about these sorts of things it’s kind of hard to forget.” As she sets down the pot, she gestures to the couch, insisting that he sit down now.

He finally does, saying very matter-of-factly in his best imitations of Mikey’s ‘I’m choosing to be obnoxious right now’ voice, “I’ll have you know that I have been turned into a jasmine turtle as of late. The flavor profile isn’t as light as I usually prefer but the deeper notes are—“

She throws a pillow at him. He laughs, and gods is it good to talk to her again. Actually talk to her, casually, without everything feeling like a deadly threat or without the world actually about to end. Whether or not she can help him, he’s glad he went to her first. His family— no, his brothers and father— would have been all somberly proud about a recovery he isn’t even sure he’s completed yet.

She still sees it though, still smiles at him with an ease he doesn’t remember from the months before he went to go frolicking across second earth. He even smiles at that thought. That’s how he thought of it before leaving, but his time on Second Earth has been anything but easy.

“You really are doing better, huh? I haven’t seen you this relaxed in…” she takes a deep breath, “I mean. It’s been a while. We all hoped Usagi might be able to help but—“

Leo winces inadvertently at hearing Usagi’s name outside his own mind.

April flinches too, face quickly flickering into a deep frown. “Uh-oh. I don’t like that look. Did something happen? Are you two fighting?”

He laughs at that too, but this is a laugh from before any of the darkness had started lifting. Cold and bitter and absolutely devoid of the warm joy he was feeling earlier. Because really, if only it were that simple. If they were both at fault, then they could just talk things over, could just make amends, but the situation Leo’s in is all his own doing. Or… he tries to reframe it. The fault of someone else who hurt him maybe? Usagi told him the self-blame came from scars unhealed. Maybe that’s the issue. He wants to think so, but when the wrongness is inside him, his body, his feelings, his hurt, he can’t really think of who else could be blamed.

“Leo, c’mon. What’s up? I know you came here for a reason.” She reaches toward him with one hand across the antique coffee table. His eyes dart past her manicured nails to the teapot and cups. The earthenware is immediately recognizable. It’s a gift from Donnie and him, from about three Christmases ago.

“Is it still steeping?” He’s starting to smell the gentle aroma of lavender now. He’s surprised by how much he missed it. Usagi loves jasmine tea and Leo enjoys it enough that he doesn’t argue. He feels a little like he can’t, what with everything Usagi has done for him. With everything he keeps doing.

“You know it is,” April says through a scowl. “What’s wrong, Leonardo? You’re—“

He picks up one of the onyx black yunomi. “Is the set still holding together well?” She’s using his full name and he just— he can’t handle that right now. Not yet. So instead, he traces the veins of gold kintsugi that wind and skitter against the black with a finger.

April sighs and mercifully relents. “Yeah. I only use the cups when I have company, but the teapot is… I mean I don’t have a lot of them. I didn’t drink a lot of tea before I met you four, but it’s still my favorite. I use it all the time and there’s never been any cracks or issues with the bonding.”

“I’m glad,” he replies, and even without the tea the warmth is back in his chest as he continues to trace the golden cracks.

Donnie had been the one to find the set in the landfill. Three cups and the pot, though they’re pretty sure there were originally four. There had been minuscule bits of sharp earthenware scattered all around where Donnie had found it, like a pile of dangerous black sand. None of those tiny pieces matched any of the existing cups or the pot, and there hadn’t been enough to make a full other cup, so they couldn’t know for sure, but really, what else could it be?

The mystery didn’t matter much anyway. Something so quality so intact was always a great find, and Donnie didn’t hesitate to gather it all up into his duffel. He’d planned to repair it as he usually did. Glue and paint to hide any cracks, but Leo had taken one look and demanded it become a joint project

They practiced for weeks, following YouTube tutorials, public library books, on any dish they could get their hands on. They weren’t perfect. Leo can see the little bumps and blips in the gold even now, but they’re still beautiful, stunning really. Gold against black is always such a brilliant contrast.

“Leonardo?” His eyes lift and sees that April’s slight frown is accompanied by a furrowed brow now. “The tea still has a minute left, but if you don’t start talking, I’m going to start pouring.” Her tone is mostly worry, but there’s also the smallest bite of annoyed anger there too.

He sets the cup down, taking in the table as he does. Then he puts as much apology as he can into his smile. “Sugar?”

“Leo!”

“Okay that one isn’t a stall. I really—“

“Ugh! Yeah, I remember that too. Fine then. I’m grabbing it, but only ‘cause it’s still steeping.” She gets up, all forceful and irate, then stomps off to the kitchen, calling over her shoulder as she does, ”I swear to god Leo, if I come back and you’ve done the ninja disappearing thing I am going to be so mad.”

He considers it. He even stares out the window. He still isn’t sure if he’s ready to do this, but then he thinks about the look on Usagi’s face and how fiercely he tried to hide the dejected shadows there. He really does need… no, more important than that, he wants April’s help. He wants to understand exactly what went wrong. He wants to know how to make the clunky weirdness go away. He wants Usagi to smile at him like that again, like all his cracks and flaws and scars have been filled with brilliant, beautiful gold, like he did before Leo’s… everything ruined it all.

So he stays. April comes back with the sugar and a relieved kind of sigh. “Thank you.”

He smiles again, still all shrinking apologies.

She smiles back, and even if the grin is a tight one, it’s clear enough that she’s only this upset because she cares. “Now,” she says as she picks up the pot, “I am going to pour tea and you are going to talk.”

“Is that—“

“Leonardo.” She starts pouring. Her voice brooks no argument. Leo nods.

“Right um… where to start. Well. Usagi— he. I mean, I was sort of—” Leo realizes only now that he’s unsure if he ever actually officially came out to April. She knows. She has to. His brothers tease too much about celebrity and cartoon crushes for her not to. He’s pretty sure she’s even gotten in on it once or twice, but he still can’t quite recall if he ever said the words ‘I’m gay’ to her specifically.

There’s nothing for it now though, and he knows that of all of his family, she isn’t about to judge. Still, he waits for her to finish pouring the steaming hot tea. “We… we kissed.”

Her expression doesn’t even change.

“And?”

“And? And! We kissed! I mean, I— wasn’t even. Really expecting it? Usagi is a good, great friend, but we were gazing at the stars and— why aren’t you more freaked out by this! I kissed someone! My first kiss! With another guy!”

She raises a slim, perfect eyebrow. “Leo, I know you’re gay. You really think I’d have a problem with it?”

“Well! No but… I mean. Usagi and I are really good friends but— I mean that’s kind of all we are and… and I thought this would be a bigger deal!”

She blows on her cup of tea, then begins dropping little teaspoons of sugar into it, responding as she does. “Leo, you’ve had a very obvious crush on Usagi ever since you met him at the battle nexus. I’m pretty sure Raph and Casey had started taking bets on when you’d make your move.” She pauses, another little pile of sugar poised above her cup. “Or was it who would make the first move?”

“Bets…?” Leo murmurs.

“Anyway, you kissed! That’s— well isn’t that a good thing?”

“Wait, what was that about bets?”

“Ask Raph or Casey. Or maybe Donnie. I think he might have been facilitating formal odds or something.” She waves off the idea of a gambling ring based on his romantic status with a flick of her fingers. “Why isn’t this a good thing? You looked downright devastated.”

He opens his mouth to ask about the gambling again. Then shuts it. Later. He’ll be having words with all of them. Later.

“It was a good thing. Or I think it was a good thing. It just didn’t… didn’t feel right.”

She smiles like she understands, which means that she doesn’t. Not yet anyway. “Look, I hate to break it to you, but first kisses are never like the movies. My first kiss was messy. I’m sure Casey’s was too. Noses bump, teeth crack together, heck my sister ended up getting her braces tangled up and locked together with another set! She and the guy were both mortified. I don’t think I’ve seen her face that red since.”

Leo’s nose scrunches up. “Really?”

“Yep. They had to make an emergency orthodontist appointment. But hey! She laughs about it now. Whatever happened, I’m sure in a couple years it’ll probably just seem funny.” Her smile is still all sympathetic understanding, which is sweet, but if this were just about awkward mistakes, he wouldn't have come to her. He probably wouldn’t have gone to anyone. He knows what he wants to ask, but he also knows once the question leaves his lips there’s no stuffing it back in. There’s no pretending like he didn’t know what he meant.

He bites his lip and tiptoes toward the line anyway, hoping he can get the answers he wants without tripping over it, knowing that’s probably impossible. “It wasn’t that. Not really. I mean… it was kinda perfect at first, y’know? He was really gentle with me and…” he goes back to inspecting the teapot. He just can’t look April in the eye when he says, “I mean, he’s soft. He’s a rabbit so that only makes sense. And that was nice. But…”

“Did he push you too far?” April asks.

Leo can’t see her expression. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to. Especially when he shakes his head and responds. “No. I pushed. I shifted and it was all—“ how can he express it without the reality crashing down? If he says the words, if April figures it out, it all becomes real and the barriers, the obstacles, every single potential ‘you can’t’ becomes possible.

Something clogs in his throat. That’s why he came here. Because April would understand, would help him mourn all the impossibilities. He swallows. “He’s older than me. By almost three years. He has more experience, more training. He’s wise and clever and I really admire him. Most of the time it’s like he’s larger than life, y’know? This sword master samurai who for some reason thinks I’m worth being around.”

“Leo—“ he hears the consoling tone in her voice and holds up a hand.

“That isn’t— I’m not done.” He takes a breath. He can guess what she sees, what she’s thinking, and she isn’t entirely wrong. It’s why he doesn’t think his recovery is over. He still hates himself. The reasons have just shifted a bit to the left. “Usagi… he’s also shorter than me. If you count the ears it isn’t by much but even with all that training he’s compact and small. And I’m.” He stares at his bulky, three fingered hand. “I just don’t usually notice it. With the presence he has, with the extra experience and maturity. But I pushed, just a little, and he let me. I had a hand on his cheek and I leaned in and he just folded. Then all I could feel, all I could think about was how— all the ways I’m bigger and clunkier and—“ he clenches his fingers into a heavy wrecking ball. His throat is stuck again, even when he swallows. He knows he wants to cry, but it’s all just lodged and immovable. Another weighty part of him.

April is silent for several long beats, but when she finally does speak, it’s with the horrendous, crushing kind of understanding he’s been so desperate to avoid. “Oh. Oh, Leo…”

He rushes ahead before she can offer anything. Before she can say it either. “How did you know? You know, for sure? That you wanted…” He can’t say it. He can’t speak it into existence. He isn’t strong enough to crush such a fragile, delicate wish. One he’s been holding in his heart longer than he realized. April does it for him.

“That I wanted to be a girl?”

He winces. Then nods. The fear is so horrifically real, but when he opens his wet eyes, he sees that miraculously, the world hasn’t crumbled around him.

April is even smiling at him. She’s reaching out a hand. Now she knows, now she sees, and to Leo’s surprise she doesn’t look consoling or sad like he expected. Her smile is joy and excitement more than anything, genuine and bright. “I think you might already know the answer to that question.”

He swallows. He nods. He brushes away the tears in his eyes before they can finally fall, staining his wrist wraps with salt and despair. “Don’t tell anyone.” He whispers through the heavy thickness in his throat.

April looks confused for a moment, but she nods. “Your secret’s safe with me, but… do you really think your family will care?” Then she pauses, and seems to realize something else. “Will Usagi care? Is that what this is about? Cause if he won’t accept you as a woman, take it from me, he isn’t worth it.”

Leonardo blinks for several moments. He honestly had never even thought about it. Usagi comes from an entirely different culture, one that’s missing over five hundred years of cultural baggage and interaction with western traditions and beliefs. Clearly if he kissed Leo, he doesn’t entirely consider himself straight, but the modern cultural connotations of that word are probably lost on him anyway. Leo hasn’t exactly taken the time to explain the Stonewall Riots to his extra-dimensional, early-Edo-period crush.

“Uh— I don’t. I mean, It might surprise him, but I don’t think… I mean I’m not even sure how odd that would be to him, y’know? He lives in an entirely different dimension that I’ve only experienced for a little over six months. He’s— I’d like to think I know him well enough to know that he wouldn’t— he’d accept— he would be—“ how did he word this?

“He wouldn’t lose any respect for you?” April offers and Leo nods once, sharp and sure.

“Then are you just— I mean if you aren’t ready that’s fine. I shouldn’t judge. I just— I want to understand why you feel that way so maybe I can help.”

The puffing wheeze of air escapes Leo’s lungs before he can help it. It’s not a laugh, not a cough, it’s more pathetic and painful than either of those. “There’s— you can’t help. That’s the problem.”

“I—“ April’s mouth presses into a flat line. Now she looks really confused. “Look I don’t mean to toot my own horn or whatever, but I have kind of done all this before. If you have questions about— about any of it really! Hormones, blockers, make-up. You don’t have to change your name legally so that’s nice, but if you want ideas I already have some rattling around! I don’t know every little thing, but I’m here and I know a lot. I could even like— if you need me for moral support when you tell the fam, or heck even Usagi. I’ve gone to a different dimension before. I can do it again.”

It’s all so sweet and supportive that it makes a couple more tears fall. An inane detail floats up to the top. Something he’s thought about longer than he wants to admit. “I already had a name in mind actually…” Mikey had given him the idea inadvertently while babbling about some comic when they were… eleven? Twelve? Something like that.

His brother had bounced in his seat at the dinner table, telling them all about the superheroine who channeled the sun’s immense power to defeat her enemies. Going from how her supernatural abilities worked, to her armored outfit, to her secret identity and normal human job. He’d asked Mikey to repeat that last one, and then smiled at how something so similar to his own name could be so beautiful and elegant.

Back in the present, April beams at him with the same solar power Leona uses to fight villainy. “Really? That’s awesome! What were you thinking?”

Leonardo’s brain communicates to his body that a dire mistake has been made and he feels every single one of his muscles tense. From the outside it probably looks like a flinch, and he watches as the bright sun of April’s smile dims and then flickers out. She’s faster to recover this time though.

She takes a breath and holds out both hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. I know this is a lot. I’m being a lot and changing your whole life around is already scary. I just— I dealt with the beginning scary bits when I was like thirteen and… well to be honest I thought the whole mutant turtle thing would take the bite out of the whole gender thing.” She waves her hands in a way that hints at sculpting something amorphous.

“But you’ve had your whole life to get used to the shell and scales and weird glowing mutagenic mystery substances whereas this— this is all new. And new is always gonna take some adjustment time. So, take as long as you need, okay? But when you wanna lay it all out, I’ll be here.” She reaches out again, only this time, she bends herself forward, not offering a hand but setting her small delicate fingers on Leo’s own clunky, twiddling digits.

This time, he really does flinch. Away from her.

As April responds with her own flinch back, Leo stands up, shoving himself out of the chair, almost spilling his tea.

“Leo I—“

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” He thought, he oh so foolishly believed she would get it, but her ideas are grandiose, bright hope like Michelangelo might be. Like, Usagi might have been if he’d shared?

His friend had spent the last six months trying to get him to see all the little spots of shining joy in the world. Usagi hadn’t babied him, hadn’t told Leo it would all work out or be okay in the end. He’d acknowledged that fear and failure were simple inevitabilities. But then he’d turned Leo’s eyes to all he’d been missing. The little beautiful sights, sounds, tastes and feelings of the world. He’d urged Leo onward with those, telling Leo that’s how he’d avoided giving into despair years ago, when his lord was killed.

There had always been something out of reach though. A chain around Leo’s heart that he hadn’t fully felt until the other crushing weights had started to lighten in Usagi’s company. He knew Michelangelo wouldn’t see the truth of it, suspected Usagi wouldn’t, but April was a scientist and knew so much more than the little bits Leo had hunted down through the private browsing tabs on Don’s computer at seventeen.

Raph and Master Splinter probably wouldn’t have understood at all, which was fine but not useful. And Donnie would know. For certain, irrevocably. Donnie could, would shatter every fragile hope and dream without even trying to. And that was so painful Leo tried his damnedest to not ever think about it.

He’d gambled on April O’Neil gentle tact not hurting as much as Don’s assured decree and made the wrong bet. Now he had to leave. Right now.

Only his chest is soaking in surprise and what he knows is wrongfully placed betrayal. He stumbles toward the window, but April is already there, hands held out again. Not a surrender this time but a barrier.

“Leo, wait! Please. What— I didn’t mean to rush you or… or try to force things. I’m just trying to help. I promise.”

He swallows. “Move.” She doesn’t get it. He has to leave.

“Leo. Please. Just talk to me.”

Something boils over. He wants the frustration, anger, despair, horror, pain to come out as tears. He wishes it could. Instead, it comes out as words, loud and unwieldy and too deep and too honest. “ Talk to you? What, so you can not listen to me again?”

“What?” April can only manage that one word, quiet and hollow.

“You can’t help April! There is nothing you can do that will magically fix this. I’m not—“ he growls. Doesn’t she see the obvious? It’s right in front of her after all.

“Leo, what are you talking about? There’s all sorts of treatments and exercises and—“

“April, I’m a mutant turtle! I’m an— an anomaly! A fluke! Our bodies don’t work the same as a normal human’s. We have no idea how prescribed estrogen and hormone blockers would affect me. If— if they even would.” He clenches his fists. “Where would I even get it? Am I just going to start stealing it from someone else? In the same dose? Every single month? Like that wouldn’t get suspicious!” Then he splays out his fingers much like she is. “Even if it did work, there isn’t some magical fix for these! For— for who I am. For all the ways I’m too—“

April takes his hands. Grabs them, squeezes them tight for multiple beats before responding, “Leonardo. Is the talking turtle who just came back from another dimension about to tell me her becoming the woman she wants to be is impossible?”

“I…” Leonardo hadn’t ever really thought of it like that, hadn’t really ever compared this to the other impossibilities of his life. His family had experienced some truly astounding things, but getting thrown through time and space, finding the lost city of Atlantis, overthrowing an alien empire. Those had all been dangers, near deaths. All turtle luck, true to form. There are very few things he or his brothers have stumbled into that feel truly miraculous or fortunate, and most of what comes to mind at the moment involves warm pink-red eyes and blue swirling pools of light. He doesn’t expect, can’t imagine, another stroke of luck like Usagi again. That just isn’t how his life works.

“Leo, you have three tremendously geeky science freaks on your side, one of whom is the world’s preeminent expert on mutated turtle biology.”

Leo holds up a finger, and repeats a favorite line of Donatello’s, “I’m an engineer, not a medical doctor.”

“Yeah and we both know that’s bullshit.” Leo blinks at her owlishly, not quite absorbing the fact she just cursed. April resorting to foul language to refute Donatello of all people almost felt like a crime. “He’s kept all four of you alive for twenty years, he’s stitched you all up more times than even he can count, and sometimes he’ll just, casually mention setting an extreme compound fracture or doing an in-the-field blood transfusion. Just because he prefers machines doesn’t mean he isn’t an expert in biology out of necessity. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a file stashed somewhere with regularly updated blood counts and cholesterol levels for the four of you. And Splinter. Especially Splinter actually.”

Leo can’t argue with that. April is right. They both know that Don has done something stupidly tough or miraculous in every field he‘s touched. They also know he’s overly paranoid and has nearly driven himself insane with sleep deprivation when hunting down answers. They call him a mad genius for a reason. Still. “That doesn’t mean he’s about to become my long term endocrinologist April. He has more important—“

“More important things than his big sister’s happiness?”

“We don’t even know—“

“Uh uh uh. Leo. Stop. Would it make you feel better about yourself? Would it make you happy?” She still has a hand on Leo’s cloth wrapped wrists. She squeezes them now.

“I— the hormones?” Maybe? Probably? That’s what the hope is.

“ All of it Leo. The hormones yeah but… dressing different maybe? The she/her pronouns. I noticed you didn’t correct me on those by the way.”

Leo felt heat rush to their face. They thought April was just being kind. Maybe she was.

“Being the older sister instead of the older brother. Being Splinter’s daughter. Being… I don’t know, Usagi’s girlfriend maybe? You don’t exactly have a normal life so…”

Leo loses track of what April is saying for a moment. They don’t use Donnie’s computer that often, but it’s a cobbled together thing they’ve seen blue screen many times. Leo’s pretty sure that’s what’s happening now. Girlfriend. Girlfriend. Girlfriend.

They blink and reset their motherboard, or hard drive, or whatever is the correct metaphor.

“…no matter what you’ll have a huge network of support right there with you.”

“I— I know. I know that. It’s… that is great, but again. Mutant turtle. There’s no guarantee that any kind of…” a deep breath, “I’ve thought a lot about this April and if I’m doing it, I’m not doing it halfway. I know– I know I’d want the hormones April, I just don’t know if—“

April moves her hands from their wrists to their shoulders. Leo looks up into eyes that are all green warmth and kindness. “Will it make you happy?”

Leo’s hand goes to their mask tails, fidgeting with them. They stop to really think about that question. Immediately girlfriend comes to mind again. They imagine Usagi saying it and have to move on before some other metaphorical machinery bursts into spectacular flames. It isn’t just that anyway. Sister. Daughter. She. Her. Leona. She finds the smile on her face more than she makes it happen.

A disbelieving, unsure chuckle leaves her mouth. “Yeah. Yeah, I think it will.”

“Then that’s all that matters. Whatever it takes, we’ll make it happen. Okay?”

There’s something stuck in her throat again. This time it doesn’t feel as heavy. “Okay. Thanks, April.”

#leosagi #katanashipping #tmnt 2003 #tmnt #usagi miyamoto #tmnt 2k3 #leonardo #transgender Leonardo #transgender April O'Neil #transgender #my fanfiction #fanfic

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ilikekidsshows · 1 month ago

Note

"Adrien using the wish" anon here again!

I was just thinking of the potential counter-argument based on rhetoric I've seen floating around, of "But because Adrien is so reliant on Marinette these days since he hardly has anyone else/lost both his parents (true), he'd be emotionally devastated to lose her (also true), so this means he'd...be willing to make the wish/wouldn't be able to handle life without her (ehhhh no)." Tempted to use the wish? Sure, I'd be surprised if he wasn't. Forever unable to live without her and/or willing to turn into the next Hawk Moth? Yeah, no.

Adrien being the next Hawk Moth only makes sense if you know nothing about the characters and decide to go with the most surface level 'like father like son' plot-line ever (which also explains why I see poorly executed 'villain! Chat Noir who sides with Hawk Moth' fics waaaay too often for my taste).

I know the idea that he'd be able to heal after losing her doesn't sound very "romantic" (I have different opinions on love and what's truly healthy and romantic but that's neither here not there), but...like I said before, he's already proven he can handle loss? If you give him enough time? If he coped with losing his mother with almost no support, something tells me he'd find ways to heal from losing Marinette, too. He does have a better support network now after all, such as it is. There's no reason why he couldn't even...find new friends and develop a new one, need be. Hell, I just remembered the boy has already said "if you wanted to dump me, I'd understand" in Illustrhater. Tell me that sounds like someone unable to move on from her.

Also sidenote, but being able to heal would be what's best for him as an individual (and a sign of character growth and a contrast with his villain father who very notably couldn't and wouldn't move on), but since that doesn't focus on Marinette being the center of the universe, I get why it's not popular with Marinette stans.

In before I'm wrong and the show has him trying to use the wish despite all evidence to the contrary, because only ~romantic love~ and/or Marinette truly matters apparently

Instead. To be honest, at this point I'm full on expecting something will happen to Adrien one day, something severe or even permanent, maybe caused by Marinette's lying or some other mistake, to the point she will try to use the wish. Parallels with Gabe and all that. Her already over the top and questionable behavior all in the name of not losing him, yadda yadda. Don't know if they'll go this route for sure, but...the foreshadowing/potential is there.

I laughed at "mouthy amphibian" btw. 🤣 Thank you so much for the response!!! And apologies this two part rant got so long, I've just been really annoyed by this and didn't want to keep silent any longer.

---

I totally get it. It's a complete misunderstanding of what Adrien's character stands for, the little bit of character growth he’s actually been allowed even as the writers try to drain anything interesting about him away to make him less popular. Frankly, with the writers' disregard of their characters’ personalities, their obvious disdain for the very idea of Adrien having concerns outside of Marinette and their very obvious belief that Marinette is the center of the universe, I would not be surprised if they actually did write Adrien unable to deal with losing Marinette. After all, the biggest concern of any sympathetic character should always be Marinette, unless them not prioritizing her is going to be milked for Marinette sympathy.

Realistically, in terms of what has been established about Adrien's character, he would be heartbroken to lose Marinette, but he could survive her and move on and find new happiness. However, also realistically, in terms of how the writers operate, Adrien's personality doesn't matter if they want to throw the ultimate pity party over how sad and pathetic everyone would be without the most amazing, wonderful Marinette. Ignore how a lot of them would be better off without her with how exhausting the writers made her to deal with.

If Adrien got to move on, the shippers would be so angry at him for “not loving Marinette enough”. There's this idea in media that moving on from loss is healthy as long as it's not the main romantic couple. Romantic couples should never move on, because that's more dramatic and so romanticized, just like codependency is so popular because it's more dramatic and so romanticized. And, like, I’m not saying I don't see the appeal, I enjoy the occasional codependent relationship in my media. But, that's just the thing: my media. I’m a grownass adult with critical thinking skills and emotional skills. I don't wanna see that shit romanticized in cartoons made for preschoolers with neither of those skills. Anything in between there is a case-by-case basis the parents should probably be responsible for depending on how much harmful behavior is being taught to youths and how mature the youths watching and reading that stuff are.

I used to call myself a Mudkip during my iconic “Mudkip with Juniper Lee hair” profile pic era in a cheeky “but what do I know, I’m just a Mudkip” way. I figured amphibian works, since, among my changing user pics, amphibians are the most common.

#ml critical #ml salt #ml fandom salt #dats chats

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mythmash · 10 months ago

Text

Bouncer!Sukuna AU Pt. 9 - Yorozu (Alternate Ending)

Bouncer!Sukuna x Stripper/Dancer!Reader. Warnings: MDNI 18+, bullet point fic, uncle!sukuna, angst, the other dancers being firm but supportive friends, panic attack, anxiety, sukuna experiencing fear for the first time and he hates it A/N: this is a collaborative work made with the amazing @pastelbunnelby, @pastelpixies & @chaoskrakenuwu Series Masterlist || Previous | Next

Instead of locking yourself in the bedroom what if you actually leave?

What if you hastily put on some clothes, pack a bag for a few nights, and leave?

You aren’t leaving forever just long enough to collect yourself

Maybe crying in the car a bit because admittedly that was a lot even for you because you’re used to his antics but this feels different it feels…wrong

You leave your phone because you know he’s not going to stop calling you and you just…go

You stay at a friend’s house, probably one of the dancers, and vent about what happened

And while they comfort you they can’t help but kinda say what did you expect?

You think a man like that is relationship material?

Fun, sure but a real relationship?

Ehhhh.

And while it’s certainly not what you want to hear you can’t help that little logical voice in your head telling you they’re right

No one in their right mind would just go “Everything is fine! It’s totally cool that your murderous boyfriend’s crazy ex showed up!” because what if she isn’t the last?

You didn’t know about her so who knows what else is in store for you?

They don’t mean to be judgmental to you they know you’re smart but they also care and know that love (is it even love at this point or is the thrill?) can be blinding

They need to ground you and they’ll be your anchor while you come to your senses and not let that crazy bastard anywhere near you

Because yeah, he’s scary

Yeah, they know the rumors

They’ve seen Sukuna beat a guy to almost death

And yeah, some of them can understand the thrill and wanting to feel protected in this line of work, but there’s also the thought of “if he could do it to them, he could do it to you”

He was clearly doing it to Yorozu, or at least treating her horribly when she was apparently close to him

Or at least close enough to be let into his apartment

Which is pretty fucking close because most of the dancers thought he lived in his car or something

But they love you too much to not do what they can

You don’t sleep well that night or really at all but you know who’s faring way worse than you?

Sukuna.

He’s freaking the fuck out and for once in his life he’s experiencing real fear

He’s done things that even the thought of would have the average person shaking like a leaf but this, the thought of losing you, really losing you has shaken him to his core

The fear and anxiety hit and Sukuna thinks he just might be dying because he’s never felt like this before

It only amps up because he knows he has real enemies out there

He feels so out of control for the first time because no amount of connections can help him if he doesn’t know where to even start

Because what if they get to you first?

This is not a matter of resources, it’s time.

And heaven forbid they’re faster

He’s good, but he’s not god he can’t stop everything no matter how much he wants to

And now he knows Yorozu is out there and pissed the fuck off because of him

It’s been so long since he’s been around her, he doesn’t know what or who she knows

What if she was waiting outside and saw you leave? Would she go after you herself? Would she tell someone else?

She knows people are out to get Sukuna and what better way to get to him than through you?

He doesn’t know what to do

He’d probably have a heart attack if he wasn’t so focused on you

He realizes you left your phone which only makes him more anxious (since when does he feel anxious about anything?) because not only are you gone, he doesn’t have a clue where you are and looking for you is going to take too much time

He wants to get to you now

You can be mad at him all you want, but you need to be mad at him somewhere he can protect you

So, he just gets in his car and drives

Doesn’t call, doesn’t text, he just goes door to door to each of your friends asking if they know where you are to which they all decline because they genuinely don’t, but based on the fact you didn’t tell him where you were going they sure as hell wouldn’t tell him either

Working at a club like them has taught them that much at least.

But he would find you eventually, and he’d do something neither of you would expect

Actually apologizing

It's quick, and clumsy, and a kind of passive aggressive, but you appreciate his attempt

You're not going back with him, though

Not tonight, anyway

After, he goes back to his place to give you some space and just collapses on the couch

He knows you're physically okay, and mentally you're a bit shaken up, even if you don't admit it, but he'd relax a tiny bit knowing where you are

Still, the exhaustion hits him like a truck and he's so emotionally drained he doesn't realize he's picking up his phone and dialing your number

It goes to voicemail because he still has your phone (he forgot to take it in his panic when he left to find you) but he's half-asleep so he leaves a message

“I’m so fucking sorry. I mean that. When—if you come back, you can do whatever you want. Yell, scream, hit me. You can even kick me out if you want, just….I want you to be safe. I need to know you’re safe. If anything happened to you—I fucking—I’ll do better, alright? I promise. I—I love you. So…please be safe.”

Because he still can't always tell you what he's feeling to your face - it feels too real, too raw, too vulnerable, but having a way to say it to you without saying it to your face eases his hesitation a bit

Then he passes out and forgets about it.

Then it'd go similarly blah blah blah grovel grovel grovel apology shopping trip that leads to a very tense conversation with his accountant, but above all else he'd sit you down and tell you to never just up and leave again

If you need space, fine, he won't stop, but not knowing where you are made him feel such a pit in his core that he never ever wants to feel again

He’s still clumsy, unsure of himself because he doesn’t do this, it’s all so new to him, but he’s trying he’s really trying

Coming this close to losing you would knock some much needed sense into him and teach him that his actions have very real consequences aside from danger and he takes the time to actively be better and atone

It’s sobering to him because up until this point Sukuna truly believed that he could get away with anything and he could say and do what he pleased

Along with the thought that he’d curated his experience well enough that none of his shit past or present would come back to you

It hits him that no. He really does not have control over everything nor can he just pretend like his uglier parts don’t exist with you even if he desperately wants to

It’s not that he doesn’t think you know anything, you know maybe too much, but he thinks it’s separate from the little bubble he’s built with you

And this made him realize that couldn’t be further from the truth and that if this is going to work he needs to be more forthcoming for you even if the thought disgusts him but it’s really for the greater good

And he wants to, god does he want to, he wishes he could tell you how much he loves you without his voice wavering or not being able to look you in the eye

But he’s not quite there yet so this will have to suffice he just hopes you can feel how deeply he cares for you

You eventually find the voicemail on your phone one night weeks later, and it gives you the strangest sense of comfort

It's like a weight is lifted off your shoulders

Sukuna finds you almost in tears on the couch

He has a brief moment of panic before he hears the voicemail and it leads to another, lighter conversation of you finally understanding how much he loves you

And maybe, just maybe, that's when he tells you, not just shows you, but tells you how much he loves you

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #ryoumen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryoumen sukuna #sukuna ryoumen #sukuna ryoumen smut #jjk sukuna #bouncer!sukuna #jjk fics

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gatheredfates · 1 month ago

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I know we rotate the whole 'tumblr is dying' every other week, but I actually don't know where I would go if it went under.

Like, I have a bsky, but I don't promote my projects nearly as much there as I do here. It's too Twitter adjacent for me; I've seen enough mini-drama already (and been involved in one set, holy shit) to have a slight aversion to it. I kinda feel like once you hit a certain level of popularity there's a subset of people who will try to undermine you.

Put it on the record I have no idea who those people might be, it's a paranoia thing. It felt like a constant when I was on Twitter.

I have a pillowfort but ehhhh?

I always like to have a backup plan but idk! idk. Nothing beats the long-form of Tumblr, both for writing and things like gifs/edits.

#｡･ﾟﾟ･ — sea speaks #this is just a ramble

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strawberrysun15 · 10 months ago

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Been hella needy for Ichi so have some of my... Less than innocent thoughts about him (｡ŏ﹏ŏ)

(twt p04n links included, MDNI)

Like we all know he's a boobs guy right? I feel like that's obvious, but it's not just with actual boobs. He just likes someone with a big chest. (I'm sorry itty bitty titty committee girlies) like it doesn't matter to him, Gender and sex aside, as long as he can hold it and fuck it, he's so down. Fem vers.

In the beginning he definitely gets all embarrassed about it and refuses to be on the receiving end of cuddles, opting for you to lay your head on his chest instead so he can feel like the "big strong protecter that he's supposed to be."

With time though I think he'd realize that there a lot of days when he just wants to come home and bury his face in whatever softness he can find on your body. It 100% ties into what I've said about him liking a chubby/bigger partner. There's more for him to hold and love and find comfort in.

That being said though... God damn does this man like to cuddle fuck. How could he resist when he can just pull you as close as possible after a long day and destress?

He's a softy though, so he doesn't typically like to be too rough even when you ask. He absolutely loves to just hold you as close as possible and slowly grind into you. His more a making love type of person I guess (or maybe I'm projecting lol). Fem vers, androgynous vers (kinda just shows less but it makes the receiving person seem a bit more ambiguous for me)

As much as I'd love to say you could peg him or fuck his ass, he'd be way too nervous and a little weirded out by it. Like, he understands why people like it and why it feels good but... Ehhhh... Maybe with time you could convince him to at least let you finger him and he'd probably melt

Also just this. It just feels right

Anyway I think that's enough for now... God I love him so much. I honestly might private or delete this if I get too embarrassed (ㆀ˘･з･˘)

#🍓thots #bleach ichigo #ichigo kurosaki #twt links #bleach #im sorry

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meanbossart · 1 year ago

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Spicy Asks: The Sequel is here. I'm so, so sorry.

Oh he's a very passive guy, he likes being manhandled around and not having to do much of the work (a bit of a pillow princess one might say). As far as fetishes go, he does have fantasies about group sex and of being roughed up, but I think if put in a situation where he could practice it in a controlled environment he'd be like "EHHHH nevermind actually" and go home very quickly LOL

DU drow would have 100% banged Lae'zel if he hadn't killed her. He couldn't stand her personality but they would have gotten on like two peas in a pod in the sack.

He does find Shadowheart very pretty, but they struck up a friendship so quickly that I don't think he could see her in that way 🤷 but that's still a smash, technically speaking.

Jaheira. Ohhhh Jaheira. As far as general dynamics go she would have been the best choice after Astarion, probably - though there is no way in hell or high heavens that she would have ever let him touch her LOL regardless, DU drow finds her looks and personality to be very attractive.

He's pretty much utterly indifferent to anyone else. Wyll is too idealistic, Gale is Gale, Karlach isn't his type, Halsin gets on his nerves - oh, he WOULD have banged Mizora if he hadn't been heads over heels for Astarion by that point.

The man just likes his femmes I guess LOL

HMMMMMMM yes, but since it's not really a porn fic expect any scenes like that to be in line with what we've had so far, where there's more of a focus on developing character dynamics rather than gratuitousness (I hope I've gotten that across, at least LOL).

LOL, It's ok, it's a ridiculous not-name and I'm so sorry for all the people I have made confused and will continue to confuse because of it.

As for your question, definitely not! I personally like big-bottom/smaller-top scenarios so that's why I focus on it, and I do think character-wise those are the roles they fall into most naturally - but they switch around every so often when the mood strikes and it isn't really a big deal.

Oh are you kidding me? The guy LOVES being cared after in an intimate setting. Being doted on, groomed, checked up on, having his hair played with and clothes fixed up - he doesn't express it outwardly much, but these are all things that make his murderous little heart skip a beat. He was the same way pre-tadpole but it was mostly servants and Sceleritas doing it, so he didn't get much out of the exchange; and Orin didn't entertain this at all, or, if she ever did, it was very, very, very rarely and really just a crumb of intimate affection that he most likely misread anyways.

I'm not sure what to say to this one LOL the penis is full of blood already man I don't think a vampire needs to make it any more tempting to themselves to chomp down.

I wrote a thing about that not too long ago :D ! The answer is complicated but, mostly yes.

Alright you joke, but, if you don't think DU drow hasn't spent a little too long lingering over Astarion's feet and ankles then I got amazing news for you.

I touched on what they generally like on the previous edition of Wine Fuelled Spicy Asks, but as for what they like to do as a couple, it's probably a lot of body worship and some playful denial on both ends. Du drow thinks Astarion is the most elegant and limber thing he's ever seen (and he loves how he smells), and Astarion thinks DU drow's body is an expertly put together murder machine. They have a great time being mutually enamored with each other's (and their own) appearances.

I think they also venture into some blood-play and vapid threats of violence in the future, as a treat, but takes a while for them to trust themselves and each other enough to indulge in that kind of thing.

Needs a little direction, plus you gotta learn to enjoy a bit of teeth and a very slobbery time - also I think he distracts easily, It's nice to have a man who's willing to venture the whole perimeter with his mouth but sometimes you do just want him to stay on the prick. But generally speaking - yes, DU drow gives good head. Fun head, even!

What do you people want from me? Do you want schematics? Diagrams? Do you want me to compare their holes to famous people holes? Do you want me to take out my measuring tape and give you numbers, tell you which kind of produce each of them can fit in there???

One is pink, the other one is brown. One of them just looks normal and the other looks and feels a little like it been around the block a few times. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW.

#ask compilation

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starlordcumidk · 9 months ago

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New Kind of Love

~chapter 1~

word count: 3.2k

notes: slight ooc, reader wears glasses, this is an AU of TASM!Peter where he is a fraternity brother. reader is portrayed as rude/stand-offish. reader is a tad neurodivergent. playful banter. please read this knowing that i am a newer author and the plot is based on a song.

warnings: not proofread, minor cursing? does that count?

Enough of "Love Lite"

And "I Can't Believe It's Not Love!"

Monday, October 21st, 2024.

School started back up eight weeks ago, frat, sorority, club rushs and event posters making anyones head spin. There were at least forty parties that happened just in the first six weeks of school, none you attended. Right now, the school was setting up for their next pep rally, big decorations all over the place, even in Siebert’s courtyard.

Empire State University was known for its largely populated campus, even for a private school. Truly, the scholarships they offered were the biggest reason anyone was able to go. Those from out of state were even encouraged with extra offers, you included.

You have been living rather normally, even with the hussle and bustle through the dorm halls every night, your favorite being the RA catching the girl down the hall with two gallon size ziplocs with coke and her boyfriend naked in the hall in the middle of September.

It was refreshing, almost. Being back in New York always puts an extra pep in your step, especially after a very long, very hot, very southern summer spent back at your parents house. Not only was it over one-hundred and five degrees most days, the humidity was consistently breaking the ninety percent mark.

Even though you weren’t as lucky this year with housing and got the road facing room, six floors up— with a broken elevator nonetheless– you were comfortable. The room was decorated meticulously, just the way you liked it. Warm lighting from lamps, the big light never on, a rotary fan at the foot of your bed. Perfect.

The cool seventy degree weather was a welcome breeze as you opened the window, allowing yourself to get the dry, definitely polluted air into your lungs. Looking down at the road, even though it was nowhere near as beautiful as the courtyard, filled you with excitement every single time. It was a beautiful swarm of colors, bright jackets and scarves creating a moving mural with the fresh morning sun.

I missed this. The thought floods your senses as you feel your first genuine chill of the year.

This was home. Being surrounded by tall buildings, loud and awful people, hagglers and one very fit red-blue spandex hero, was comforting. Back home, there were no heroes to swoop in if you were threatened. Spider-Man was always a welcome guest, and you’ve definitely seen more of him these past few months than before.

Maybe your paranoia was bad, but the idea of a sticky-gross-web man sweeping in and saving you made those thoughts calm down. Even if you thought the idea of being part spider was less than exciting.

It was Monday, all of your aggravating and mundane classes were scheduled for this morning. It took effort to get dressed and go to your first lecture, but eventually you did.

As you walked across campus, you messaged back and forth with your close friend who still lived in your home state, so many thousands of miles away.

Delilah: girl u have to go out and make more friends. i’m tired of being your only one. you: you know that isn’t happening right now. people find me too abrasive and that makes it hard enough as is. Delilah: ok well maybe be nice to people babe ? you: ehhhh not really my thing but maybe i’ll try for you < 33 Delilah: u better !!!!!! Delilah: hugs n kisses < 333 i gtg, reed is here you: it’s not even 9am so idk how you’re already at it with him… have a good day lilah.

You shake your head at the quick interaction and feel a moment of missing her before shoving your phone back into your pocket and taking a deep breath. Opening Dr. Howards lecture doors and seeing that you’re the first to show again, a small smile graces your lips as you make your way to your seat.

It’s not long until the small, bubbly, blonde seventy-year-old woman walks in, big binders and a mug in hand. Following her are more of the students, none of which you know or care to know. You look away for a few minutes to gather you notebook and pencil to scribble nonsense notes to try and dissect later.

And the lecture begins.

—--------------

Peter, frankly, was over everything. He was the one who had to organize where people would be sleeping, how they’d fit into the chapter house and he even had to argue with the stupid underclassmen asking why he was the one with a private bathroom. Being in a frat was tiring, he was only here for the scholarship and housing opportunity.

It was always the same, but luckily this was his last year he had to be involved with it.

After this year, his bacholers in hand, he could just worry about graduate school. Everyone and everything outside of bioengineering and Spider-Man would wash off of him. His hands clean and life lonely, just as he liked it to be- with the exception of May.

Even if one fleeting conversation leaves him enamored with the wrinkle of your nose, the way it caused the inner corners of your eyes to crease. He hadn’t been this way since highschool, it was scary and unwelcomed. Something he’d rather kill off and walk away from, but every day in the courtyard or the times you happened to be on the Q train at the same time as him, the weird adrenaline rush would light him on fire.

Mondays, Wednesdays and select Fridays were the worst. He was sure of it.

Environmental Managment, a dumb class, but he took it to get his credit hours up, hoping to balance out his GPA…. Somehow, you were here too. Almost like a curse, he has to look at you from the back row of the class, the closest seat to the back entrance. You sat alone, front and center of the lecture hall. You were always there on time, which urged him to be too, it gave him extra time to stare. Even with this, he was never sure of your name.

—--------------

The teacher was droning on about some mudslide somewhere in California, babbling about the random effects it had on the surrounding citizens, the heavy rain that caused it. Your pencil was etching into the paper lazily with each slide.

A small timer went off which indicated the end of class, but before you could react there was a loud clap and Dr. Howards mic was turned on. She only used it for important announcements or when the frat boys in the back wouldn’t shut up.

“So, this semester is going really well. Many of you are keeping your grades and positivity up! But, we still need to discuss our final exam.”

A symphony of deep groans sound from the back, you feel your eye twitch at it.

“Thank you, boys.” A pause and a glare, “Anyways, I have decided your final will be a presentation on a hypothetical scenario. In groups of two, that I assign, you and your partner will have to decide on a catastrophic event, it can be any of the ones we have discussed or any you find in your books. After picking the event, choose the setting, it can be close to home or even Australia, just make it realistic. No monsoons in New York. You two must decide how devastating it is and how the community will recover. The groups are in the class Canvas. Take care! Go Otters! Excelsior!” She closes her laptop and is out of the room before anyone can complain about her groupings.

You are quick to start thinking over ideas, most of which are tornado-centered. You’ve never experienced one, but the movie Twister was a classic at home when you were little. Quickly, you write down some ideas, tornadoes, hurricanes, mudslides….

You pack your books away and look into the list the professor had composed on your phone, scrolling through too many names before your gaze lands on yours next to… oh no.

Peter Parker.

You feel dumb for a moment, you hadn’t realized he was in this course let alone the same exact class as you. Turning around to look for him, it’s hard. The cluster of bodies was too big to just be pairs discussing their ideas.

Then, your eyes meet a messy mop of brown, leaning over a laptop and the same sweater from back in summer all the way in the back. You feel nervous just looking at him, but you swallow the hard lump and start towards him. Of course he’d be all the way in the back, surrounded by sport and frat bro’s.

With a deep breath, you tap on his shoulder. It causes him to jump, and for a moment he looks as nervous as you feel, but it disappears quickly and is replaced with a smile.

“Hey, I know you.” Peter says it with a warm tone.

“Yep. Uhm… we were partnered for the project?” You say it coolly, staring down at him.

“Ah- so that's who you are, huh?” He tilts his head, slowly shutting his beat up laptop and leaning back in his chair. He says your name a few times under his breath, as if reciting it to himself.

“Uh-huh….” You nod, something weird stirring in your stomach at the timbre he uses when whispering your name to himself. “So, what days are we meeting for this thing?”

“Uh- we could use the free period on whatever days you want. As long as it isn’t at night, I have a job.” He shrugs, looking up at you and his smile falters.

“Monday, Wednesday and Friday it is then.” You decide, grabbing the paper you scribbled ideas on and hand it to him.

He takes it and looks it over, his brows furrowed for a moment before looking back up to you. “We can’t meet today, but if you give me your number I’ll look these over and text you.” He is so soft spoken compared to the other frat guys around you, it is almost shocking.

“You have my school email. Use that.” You shrug, your tone almost rude as you speak. “Sorry, I mean- just email me about it and we can talk Wednesday….” It’s kinder this time, but the tone correction feels embarrassing.

“Oh- okay. Sure thing.” He nods and starts to gather his things around, looking you over before slinging his backpack over his shoulder, you couldn’t help but notice the skateboard sticking out from it. “See you then.” He says your name then he is gone, quickly leaving to go wherever he needed to be.

—-------------- <[email protected]

Sent at 2:27pm 10/21/2024

Let's do the hurricane and Louisiana idea. Meet me at the library at 12:30.

Peter B. Parker

Get Outlook for iOS>

—--------------

Wednesday, October 23rd, 2024

You walk into the library, your eyes scanning the large area. Peter and you had agreed to meet on the first floor for ease of finding one another, but he hadn’t specified if he was at a table, a computer or in a private study room. You groan at the fact you never asked for any more specifics.

The building had three levels, ground floor was all peer-reviewed journals, textbooks, anything that was used for research and could be ran through scribbr for essays, the middle floor was dedicated to fiction and had very limited stock, only a few of the books were actually worth a read, the top floor was just old archives, nothing that was allowed to leave the library.

It was a very tall, circular shape. Each floor visible from the entrance, glass sidings and the small tables or armchairs pressed against them. Red and gold quotes painted along the walls. Your personal favorite was by Madame Curie, it was directly above the checkout desk.

"One never notices what has been done; one can only see what remains to be done."

Slowly walking through the shelves, looking at each and every table and bean bag, you can't seem to find that stupid mass of brunette hair and slushy posture anywhere. In all seriousness, you’re getting angry. Had he stood you up? Was he running behind after he set up the whole meeting in the first place?

Just as you were about to give up you felt a hand fall on your shoulder, a breeze of honey and pine enveloping your nose.

“Finally, I found you!” Peter's voice was easy to recognize, especially with how sweet he smelt.

You turn and look up, giving him a skeptical look. “Where are we going to study?”

He took a moment before pointing at the private study hall, his smile smooth and easy to take in. With a quick nod, you walked towards the hallway, looking in each room to decipher which had his items in it. To your delight, it was easy. Every other room was filled with people, some studying, others playing some tabletop games. You walked in, sat at the empty seat closest to the computer and started pulling your notebook out.

He was right behind you, closing the door and settling in across from you. In one foul swoop his legs were propped on the table and he leaned back a bit. “So do you really think this assignment is going to take ten weeks to research?” He sounded so… carefree.

You respond with a shrug, looking at the page on natural disasters.

Peter hummed a small ‘mhmm’ and drummed his fingers on his chest, staring at you. “So, are we gonna challenge ourselves and use just our textbook as a reference?” A small smile.

“That's dumb.” You scoff and put your book aside, logging into the school computer and doing a quick search for Louisiana and scrolling through its map, trying to find the city to zone in on.

“Oh. Okay… uhm….” He sits forward, dropping his legs and leaning forward, craning his neck a bit to try and get a peek at the screen.

“New Orleans is probably a good one. Super populated, a staple for tourists. It would be a big tragedy for it to get destroyed.” He pointed at the spot on the screen, his tone still just as warm as usual.

“No, too predictable.” It comes out like an insult, and you internally kick yourself.

There's a pause before a defeated sigh and he points out another spot on the map, it’s random and his smile is gone now. “What about there? Grand Isle?”

You take a long look at it before nodding and writing the town name down, looking over at him with a forced smile. “Cool.”

“You know, we’re gonna have to talk like real people eventually, right?” It’s frustrated and a bit.. sad. Another internal kick.

“Listen I-” you pause, not sure of how to put it at first, “I’m not good at talking. Never have been.”

“Yea, I’ve noticed.” He shrugs and pulls out the most beat-up laptop you’d ever seen. “But, that night in the courtyard you seemed pretty chatty.”

The memory flashes in your mind and you touch your nose, your new pair of glasses hasn’t arrived yet. “It was a momentary lapse. Probably won’t happen again.”

“Why not?” He stares intently, a stomach turning, heart flipping look on his face as he asks.

“Why would it?” You stare back, your hands starting to fidget with your jean pocket.

“Cause we’re friends now.” He spoke so nonchalantly.

“Not friends.” A groan

“Oh come on, you’ll learn to love me eventually.” His voice was soft and he brought the backside of his fingers against his chin, batting his eyelashes.

“Eh, doubt it. I’ve had enough of love lite.” You said it, genuinely grossed out.

There was a moment of silence, the buzzing LED above you making you think you won Peter's yap battle.

“What?” It came out after a hearty laugh, one that felt like it had to come from his stomach.

You roll your eyes, looking into Grand Isle, writing its population count down as you respond. “Don’t worry your pretty head about it.”

“So you think I’m pretty?” He gasps, his hand pumping in the air as if he’d won something.

A shiver runs down your spine but you don’t let it show. “Sickening thought. Thanks, Mr. Aracnophile.” You grimace, making a fake gagging sound even though deep down you were enjoying this stupid conversation with him.

“Oh ew- never call me that again. What did I ever do to you?” His hand flew over his heart, squeezing his pullover with a dramatic gasp.

“You haven’t shut up since we got in this room.” You looked him in the eye, an almost unamused expression on your face outside of the small smile that was fighting its way past your ever slipping mask.

Peter is quiet for a moment again before rolling his shoulders back and sighing. “Got you pretty chatty though, didn’t I?” A shit-eating grin and a teasing tone accompanying his words.

You go to speak but nothing comes out. He did get you chatty. For some reason it makes your face heat up and you roll your eyes before looking back at your computer screen. “I’ll look into the town, you look into the likeliness a hurricane would destroy it?”

He nods and opens the laptop, it has several cracks in the screen and duct tape holding a few of the plastic parts down. You take a mental note not to ask about it right now, but maybe later.

The next hour progresses quickly, handwritten notes torn out of notebooks and stacked neatly into a pile in between the two computer screens. There are a few sneezes and quick exchanged glances while you work, but you ignore it. No reason to think too hard about it.

As you start to type a few sentences into a digital outline, your phone buzzes, indicating your next class would be starting in twenty minutes. You sigh and start to boot down the computer. Peter lifts his head, looking at you and furrowing his brows a little bit.

“Got somewhere to be?” He says your name so smoothly, you almost miss that he said it at all.

“Yea. My next block of classes is about to start.” You shrug and sift through the different notes he and you had written, letting your eyes graze each one to see what’s what and how you should organize it in your folder.

“I can take those.” He gently taps the top of the papers and you’re reluctant to hand them over. It was hard to say yes, because what if you needed to double check them and retrace your steps before- “I’ll scan them and send them to you after work tonight.”

A wave of relief washes over you, and you nod, letting his hand take them from you. “Sounds good, Spider-guy.” You say with a tight lipped smile and start to leave the study room.

“Hey, wait. Let me walk with you.” He calls out to you but you put your earbuds in and pretend you didn’t hear him.

—-----------------

<[email protected]

Sent at 3:06am 10/24/2024

2 attachments (4 MB)

Here you go, just as I promised. Oh, also, here’s my number, you know, if you want to be a normal 21 year old someday. Also, can't meet Friday. Something came up.

See you soon, trouble.

(xxx) xxx-xxxx

Peter B. Parker

Get Outlook for iOS>

#fanfic #peter parker x reader #frat!peter #x reader #spiderman #peter parker #peter parker x you

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endead-art · 5 months ago

Text

Epic the Musical, badly summarized by yours truly (spoilers for every song somewhat)

After the gods mess with Odysseus a little too much

And maybe made him kill someone, who knows

They sailed to an Island FAR FAR away from his kingdom because they were like "holy shit food! I love food!"

Polites was given food by the inconspicuous villagers, but Odysseus was smart and did the checking before the taking.

Athena decides that she hasn't had enough messing with Odysseus.

And after Athena messed with his head, Odysseus takes before checking. Ehhhh it's fine, robbers can just trade their way out of stuff right?

NO THEY CANNOT HOLY SHIT THE COPS ARE BRUTAL

Odysseus and crew fights back against justice because it's survival of the fittest motherfucker. NO ODYSSEUS I KNOW YOU HATE ATHENA BUT DON'T TELL THEM YOUR PERSONAL INFORMATION!

Athena leaves because she was getting annoyed that Odysseus isn't acting like his usual self. That makes the messing with him not fun.

Man traffic am I right?

Eurylochus is questioning Odysseus, in which he replied with "trust me bro"

After being left by a god, he decides to ask for help to another one. And unlike classic Odysseus, he actually listens. Actually, no he doesn't.

He encounters the father of the guy he hurt and he's pissed. What do you mean about the son? No, not that. They have different philosophies.

They encounter a woman. Very dangerous. Oh yeah they're also a god so screw them, Odysseus is gonna fight them head on.

Odysseus meets his friend who is also a drug dealer and takes the drug before going into a fight.

That drug apparently makes his hallucinations real. She also has that type of drug I think. The battle was epic, until she got desperate.

Odysseus says no to this.

The high boy hears the voices of the dead after visiting the place of the dead.

Odysseus meets blind guy who sees a lot of stuff. I don't think he sees what the blind guy is putting down though.

Odysseus is getting very desperate right now. VERY DESPERATE.

Holy shit that's his wife that he's been trying to get too. I think the guy is mentally unstable if that's what he's seeing (ignore the fact that he heard dead people whispering to him).

Nevermind it was a catfish. He sure fished that cat though. Cut them up nice and smooth. And then polluted the ocean COME ON ODYSSEUS HAVE SOME DECENCY!

I think he got too desperate. He's bargaining with a murderer to get back to his home.

Eurylochus thinks Odysseus is stupid, so he takes charge instead. And promptly made the same mistake as last time (yes, the sheep).

The guy was not happy with his cows being killed so he called his brother. What's with these people and calling their families after their animals get killed? Anyways Odysseus bargains even more lives yippee.

Boy who was abandoned by his father since birth wants to see his father

Promptly gets beaten down by suitors who wants to see his mother instead. He even got help from a god oh wait the family doesn't have a good track record with those

The son of Odysseus somehow got along with Athena though. And Athena begins to miss Odysseus.

So she stalks him. You know who's not stalking him? This girl he's stuck with for a long long time. She makes her obsession very obvious. Odysseus, yet again, says no to this.

Athena plays a game with Zeus, and 5 other people. It came down to the two of them, and Athena won. But Zeus is a sore loser so he kinda... destroys the whole game.

Girl who forces herself into his life is sad he doesn't want her in his life.

The dealer came back and says the obvious. Oh yeah also cleared the traffic somehow.

HERMES I THOUGHT YOU CLEARED THE TRAFFIC WHAT IS THIS? At least I get to get home after all that.

He does not get home. The father is pissed.

And then Odysseus is pissed. And the father continues the family tradition of being stabbed by Odysseus.

You know how Odysseus is desperate. His wife is desperate AND smart... until she saw the change in weather and immediately assumes that's him.

The suitors are so mad they can't string a bow that they resort to murder.

Odysseus outdoes them in both.

After murdering people, Odysseus stops being mentally unstable and becomes mentally unwell. Telemachus on the other hand is very well. And Athena is scarred for life

The couple reunites. They talk and cry and argue about furniture. They also didn't kiss.

#endead’s random thoughts and rambles #epic the musical #epic the musical spoilers #literally every song is spoiled here somewhat #I saw that one post about how in Would You Fall In Love With Me Again they meet for the first time in forever and argued about furniture #and I knew I had to make this #let's call this Traffic : The Musical instead #odysseus #athena #penelope #telemachus

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tlbodine · 5 months ago

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Overthinking: The Haunted Mask

Here it is, kids, the book that started it all (for me).

The Haunted Mask is Goosebumps #11, coming out in September of 1993. I was seven years old and had never read a proper chapter book before - I was transitioning from picture books to those longer picture books, you know the ones? I was already a fan of Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark but had never read a long, single narrative work.

So imagine my delight when I found a long book that was scary! I devoured it. I'd go on to read more ambitious books over the next year or so, becoming an all-out obsessive reader by my tweens, but in so many ways this was the book that started everything for me -- a love of reading, a love of horror, a love of writing and storytelling.

So is it my favorite Goosebumps ever? The best? The scariest? Ehhhh.

Let's overthink it.

First, the Plot: Carly-Beth is 11 years old and easy to scare. Her friends can't help themselves from pranking her all the time because of her reactions -- she shrieks, she freaks out, she jumps. You know the type.

Halloween is coming up, and Carly-Beth has already been pranked several times by her pals Chuck and Steve, whose jokes are getting frankly mean-spirited. They put a worm in her sandwich. They make her so panicky about an escaped tarantula that she makes a scene in front of the whole class and ruins her project at science fair. She vows that she's going to get them back real good with the scariest costume she can muster.

Unfortunately, her mom has other ideas. It's ambiguous whether Carly-Beth's dad is in the picture (there's a line about him being on the phone from Chicago, but it's not clear if he's there on business or if they're separated) but Carly-Beth's mom is loving and attentive. She hand-sews her daughter a duck costume and made a plaster of paris perfect replica of her head in an art class. It's freaky, but made from a place of love.

After being jump-scared by her brother Noah (no, not Lefty, a different Noah) dressing in her duck costume, Carly-Beth has HAD IT with these motherfucking pranks in on this motherfucking plane. So she goes to a party store to buy the scariest mask she can.

The shopkeeper is a weird, very serious, creepy kind of fellow who's trying really hard to sell her a gorilla mask. There's an easter egg of an "alien mask with blue hair" that I think is a reference to the bus driver's mask in Welcome to Camp Nightmare. But they're not scary enough, so she goes into the back room and finds a whole shelf of grotesque faces. She plucks one green mask with pointy ears and a gaping mouth of fangs off the shelf and decides it's perfect. The shopkeeper doesn't want to sell it to her, protesting that it's too scary, but she wears him down.

At home, she puts in on to scare Noah and succeeds in freaking him out, in large part because as soon as she puts it on, her voice changes into a low growl. She struggles to remove the mask at first but gets out just fine and gets ready for Halloween.

As a fun touch, she grabs her plaster of paris head and puts it on the end of a broomstick, essentially cosplaying as the monster that ate herself and carries her old face on a pike. Cool.

Anyway, she meets up with her BFF Sabrina to go trick-or-treating, and Carly-Beth is....a little different. She keeps scaring people, and she likes it. She feels this quiet swell of rage and this animal desire to run and howl and bite. It's empowering. It feels so good.

She manages to scare Chuck and Steve, and all three of them are certain they saw her plaster head blink and beg them to help. They take off running, Carly-Beth convinces herself she imagined it, and she meets back up with Sabrina. They go home to count candy and realize....oh no! She can't get the mask off!

They tug at it from all angles before realizing that there is no seam between the mask and her neck. It's like it's become her real head.

Carly-Beth flees to the party store, where she again talks to the shopkeeper and learns that these aren't masks but real faces (?) that he created in a laboratory (??) and which used to be normal but now are grotesque monsters (???). The only way to get the mask off is with a symbol of love, but this trick will only work once. If it's ever worn again, it'll permanently become your face.

All the other masks wake up and start to chase her, floating after her as she runs down the block in search of the plaster head she previously discarded. Symbol of love, right? She finally locates it, brandishes it at the floating heads, then rams it over her head (somehow) and...it works! She's free! The masks disappear and she takes the one off her face and returns home to a concerned mom who wants to hear her whole story (and is actually going to listen).

All's well that ends well, except for Noah, who picks up her discarded mask...and puts it on.

Overthinking It: I had quite honestly forgotten most of the third act of this book. The "scientific" explanation for the masks is pretty goofy, and not the first time Stine has put a mad scientist behind a supernatural phenomenon (hi, Spidey the camera-scientist). I wonder if part of the motive is in softening the edges of the scariest horror stuff -- like maybe it's somehow less terrifying if a thing is fake-science than if you have to grapple with the metaphysical implications of curses and hauntings -- but at the same time we have other literal curses and hauntings all over the place so maybe it's just a weird affectation.

Regardless - the backstory for the masks is weird and doesn't make a lot of sense when you hold it to scrutiny, but that's not really why anybody cares about The Haunted Mask. The power of this particular story lies in the strength of the inner conflict, and how utterly relatable it is.

Allow me to illustrate with a meme:

Carly-Beth is under the influence of the mask...or is she? Her wild desire to howl and destroy...is that the mask making her act that way, or is she just finally free to act on her heart's darkest desires? Does she know the difference?

The mask affords anonymity. It's protective armor against the world. In a mask, you can be anyone. But you still have to live with yourself, even if the world doesn't know who you are -- and that's ultimately the struggle at the heart of The Haunted Mask. Carly-Beth has the opportunity to be someone else, gets a real taste of it, and it frightens her....because that version of her existed inside her all along.

That the mask can only be defeated with a symbol of love is a thoroughly on-the-nose metaphor, but it works here. It helps that Carly-Beth's mom is one of the best moms in the series. She's loving, patient, attentive, and actually wants to listen and believe her kid.

I may have forgotten most of the third act, but I have remembered for 30 years the first scene in the party store, looking at those masks, their frightening designs, the care with which they're described. I remember visiting Halloween stores (well before Spirit Halloween became a cultural icon) and feeling a kind of longing hopefulness that maybe there was a secret back room with the really scary masks in it.

Because, you know...maybe the thing is that Carly-Beth isn't the only person who kind of, deep down, secretly, just wants to go ape shit.

If You Liked This, THESE Will Really Give You Goosebumps:

Fun fact: Jim Carrey's The Mask wrapped up filming a month after this Goosebumps book was published. I doubt the two properties had much to do with one another, but it's pretty wild that two stories about a green mask that transforms you into a monster and influences your behavior would come out so close together.

Of course, the OG template for The Haunted Mask is Robert Louis Stevenson's Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, in which a doctor discovers a way to separate himself into two entities -- and his darker half gets away from him. The idea of dual identities and masking behavior is, uh, probably as old as humanity itself, but Stevenson's work put language to it that we still use today.

For a different take on the idea of a costume that transforms its wearer, see Clown (2014). There are also undeniable similarities to the Marvel villain The Green Goblin -- watch him in action in Spider-Man (2002).

Also, bonus points - this isn't scary, but it is funny and poignant and basically the same story as the Goosebumps book.

#overthinking goosebumps #the haunted mask #goosebumps #rl stine #tim jacobus #horror books #horror

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