#graphs be looking fucking crazy though lets just say that

[n7punk]

for the last week. i have averaged 5384 words a day

[atragicallycrispydude]

I recently hit 501 matches with Axl, and thought it would be fun to look at the distribution of characters in the tower as I got to that point.

This data comes from a 10-and-a-half-ish day period from roughly 08:45 September 13th to 23:30 September 23rd. Most of them are Floor 10 and a couple Celestial Challenges, with some Floor 8 and 9 from when I immediately started with Axl.

First, a graph of the raw numbers. Not much to say here, but it is an extremely uneven dataset.

Now, things get fucky. The distribution of the characters was so skewed that I had to split the pie chart into two pie charts, one with all characters who had more than 4% of the total matches, and one with all who had less than 4% respectively. The numbers don't perfectly line up, but whatever - this is the best I can do to make them all visible. (and nago still doesn't show up :p)

Here's the raw data, it was genuinely impossible to put in a pie graph with everything visible.

The most interesting thing about this data to me is that I-no, Jack-'O, and Johnny are so common, and that Nago and May are so uncommon. Johnny makes sense, he got crazy buffed so more people are playing him, however, as far as I know not much has changed about I-no and Jack-'O. I really didn't know anything about fighting them until these 501 matches due to how uncommon they were. I barely saw them, I-no especially. Nago and May I remember being EVERYWHERE, but they just kinda vanished I guess.

Not included here are the winrates because I fucked up when I sorted and didn't feel like putting them all back in the right place. Stand-outs are a 100% rate against May and a 0% rate against Nagoriyuki. I managed an average winrate of 55%, by some fucking miracle.

Slayer, of course, occupies the top spot for matches. I admit I have been seeking out matches with him - I know how to fight him, and his strength has attracted a lot of players who don't quite have a complete grasp of the fundamentals (or who just don't know how to fight Axl,) but this was never more than walking up to a terminal with a Slayer when first entering the Tower.

The takeaway from all of this? IT WAS HELL. ALMOST ALL OF THE TOP 9 CHARACTERS I FOUGHT ARE THOSE THAT WILL WIN AFTER TAKING NEUTRAL ONCE. FIGHT FOR A MINUTE AND LOSE BECAUSE YOU FAILED TO KEEP THEM AWAY FROM YOU ONCE. Was a lot of fun though! Don't let tierlist position keep you from playing the characters you love, and GO FUCKING PLAY AXL LOW.

All of this data was taken from RATING UPDATE. It's really cool go check it out.

[floralfractals]

I don't know anything about measure theory, re: f(x)=x on [0,1], what's the deal with integration?

ohh well i guess i did kinda say that without explaining huh. let me elaborate

measure theory is all about sizes of sets, in a generalisation-of-probability-way. the probability of event A is 0.5, the probability of event B is 0.8, the total probability (of any outcome happening at all) is 1. or the measure of set C is 2, the measure of set D is 0.002, the total measure (of the ambient space) is infinity. whatever.

but what is integration if not calculating the space under a curve? is that not dependent of the measures of the sets underneath them?

lets first talk about "regular" (Riemann) integration. basically, suppose you have a function f: R -> R. it has some kind of fun graph, and youd like to find the surface between the graph and the x-axis. one way to do that is by approximation through rectangles. yknow, draw some rectangles of fixed width, put their heights either just under or just above the graph of f, add up their surface areas and bam! you have a numerical method of approximating the integral. or you could make the rectangle width smaller and smaller for exact results. thats integration. heres a visual.

ok cool so problem solved right? we know the area under the graph? surely this holds for every function?

well, no. suppose we have a really fucked up function. for example, let f(x) be equal to 1 if x is rational, and 0 otherwise. the above method wont be able to determine if the area is 0 or infinity, or something in between!

thats where measure theory comes in. we give sets a measure (notation: m(A)). this measure is not negative, and if you take the measure of two sets that dont overlap with each other, then their measure is the sum of their separate measures (in notation: m(A ∪ B) = m(A) + m(B) if A and B are disjoint. this is called sigma-additivity (the sigma means that it works for countable infinitly many sets as well)). easy! now we can define something called the indicator function 1_A(x), which is 1 if x is in A and 0 otherwise, and we define its (Lebesgue) integral to be ∫ 1_A dm = m(A). usual linearity applies for finite sums (so if a and b are numbers, and f and g are functions, then ∫ af + bg dm = a ∫ f dm + b ∫ g dm) (wacky things happen when sums are infinite: they might become infinitely large, or infinitely negative, or not converge at all).

this solves the issue of our crazy function f we just defined: notice that f(x) = 1_Q(x), where Q is the set of rational numbers. thus, ∫ f dm = m(Q), which (in one of the most natural measures, called the lebesgue measure*) is zero. done!

now for your question. the function f(x) = x on [0,1] (for our purposes: f(x) = x if x is in [0,1], and zero otherwise) cant be written as a finite sum of indicator functions. that means that our newly defined Lebesgue integral wont do without a bit of work. as it turns out, we can take limits in the Lebesgue integral, as long as our sequences increase (in math notation: if (f_n)_n is an increasing sequence with limit f, then lim_{n -> ∞} ∫ f_n dm = ∫ f dm). thus, we need to find such a sequence.

it's probably best if all functions in our sequence are finite sums of indicator functions, since we know how to integrate them. one such sequence with limit f is given by f_n = Σ_{k=0}^{n-1} k/n 1_{[k/n, (k+1)/n]}. that looks kinda scary, but if we let n go to infinity, this turns out to be equal to f almost everywhere (some points are counted twice since the intervals [k/n, (k+1)/n] and [(k+1)/n, (k+2)/n] have some overlap, namely {(k+1)/n}, but we dont need to worry about that since m({(k+1)/n}) = 0). heres another visual.

as you can see, though, when we go from f_2 to f_3 we have some parts that increase and some that decrease. that sucks because now our limit trick wont work! to solve this, notice we dont have that issue when we go from f_2 to f_4, or from f_4 to f_8. thus, the sequence (f_{2^n})_n would work, since its limit is also f!

now we can do a big calculation. please bear with me (its just this paragraph i swear)! we have ∫ f dm = lim_{n -> ∞} ∫ f_{2^n} dm, so lets solve ∫ f_n dm for any n first. we have ∫ f_n dm = Σ_{k=0}^{n-1} k/n m([k/n, (k+1)/n]) = Σ_{k=0}^{n-1} k/n^2 = (n-1)(n-2)/2n^2. we can work with that, so were ready to take the limit: lim_{n -> ∞} ∫ f_{2^n} dm = lim_{n -> ∞} (2^n-1)(2^n-2)/2(2^n)^2. that looks scary, but luckily its equal to the slightly less scary lim_{n -> ∞} (n-1)(n-2)/2n^2, and thats just 1/2.

therefore, ∫ f dm = 1/2. which is also the value of the riemann integral ∫ f(x) dx, by the way.

you see that we needed a lot of calculations, so its probably not surprising that i needed an entire whiteboard to do this.

maybe this would make you think that lebesgue integration is inferior to riemann integration. however, as it turns out, most applications of this rely on proving that a lebesgue integral ∫ f dm is equal to some riemann integral ∫ g(x) dx, and we can just solve that with our calculus skills.

also, since the integral relies on a measure, we can do some silly shenanigans with that. for example, the ergodic probability measure related to my sickly son (lets call it n to avoid confusion with our earlier measure m) has n([0,1]) = 1/2, and n([1,2]) = 1/4 (in general, n([k-1, k]) = 1/2^k). i used this in my thesis to integrate the function floor(x): turns out that ∫ floor dm is infinite, but ∫ floor dn = 4 :)

hope you enjoyed doing some measure theory with me :>

*: the lebesgue measure is probably one of the more intuitive measures. an interval [a, b] has lebesgue measure b - a, so m([0,1]) = 1. this also means that a single point has measure m({x}) = x - x = 0, and a countable union of singletons (like Q) therefore also has measure m(Q) = 0. however simple this measure is, it also gives rise to some wacky crazy properties! for example, there exist sets that cant have a measure, but you can only construct them using the axiom of choice. scary!

[kandyshoppe]

Hey, uh, I have an Oc that is a vet (surgeon more specifically) but I don’t really know about how they should act about it or the experiences so, do you have any advice on that front?

Like, I just take more example from doctors, my mother and brother are and they are both very, uh, (￣︿￣) about it.

Like they tell stories and experiences constantly when we are eating, like how my mother saved a kid that got shot point blank in the head (kids are very resilient like holy fuck), my brother is studying still but he already has a few experiences and such. So I take more note that those in medicine are just very not overreactive to emergency situations.

But that is just human vets, which humans can be very crazy but it’s very different from animals.

So I would like to know if vets are also like that? Just “Emergency? Okay let’s start” and have many things under control.

Also what are your crazy vet student experiences?

Also your job is very cool.

Alright! So! First! I mainly did paperwork while interning. I only went with boss a few times as an extra set of hands for graphing, and I am not interning anymore because of summer vacation (I only actually interned last semester to be honest, cause I needed to focus on class work this last semester)

Never take a vet to polite dinner, we WILL just start talking about the grossest things while casually eating. Being in the medical field, you need a strong stomach, so sometimes we forget not everyone wants to hear about us looking through poop to find worms or giving a cow an enema. We’re DISGUSTING. We regularly deal with being covered in fluids all day cause we don’t have time for a shower! Got another appointment in ten minutes!

Vets also have STRONG opinions on different animals, though they don’t all match up. I would rather shoot myself in the leg than deal with another racehorse again, but my boss adores horses! That being said, dogs tend to fall in similar categories on breeds, every husky I’ve ever met has ripped their catheter out, and every pug has been a screaming diva.

Some of the shared opinions are cats have the best names, bird owners are their own breed, no dog owner truly knows how much of a devil their dog is, cows are inherently stupid, and horses would murder you for one corn chip.

Now, I am not interning right now as summer has started, and it was for a class, but vets are very busy during spring, fall, and every single full moon. Nobody knows what happens but animals get weird every full moon! Summer tends to fluctuate depending on the type of vet you are. Surgeons probably wouldn’t see as much of a increase vs farm vet (which is what I’m going for). Most surgery’s are scheduled, but there are emergency surgeries sometimes needed. Which leads to my next point.

I was never apart of any emergency situations since I’m still learning, but I have seen my boss just FULL SPRINT across the clinic, and I was told to take care of the front. (The dog was okay for anyone wondering, she had an emergency c section and all puppies were okay!) the only close to an emergency was a sudden seizure someone’s goat had, not a fainting goat, she had milk fever. That was very much « work mode » while also trying to stay compassionate to the owner and animal. I bet working in back with an emergency would be similar to how medical professionals might feel, but if the owner is there you have to make sure to put up a brave front.

It’s different from being a medical doctor as owners are such a big part of the job, your bedside manner has to be amazing! I’ve wanted to strangle owners for neglect, hug them during last visits, or just stare confused at them for saying the DUMBEST things (DOGS AND CATS A CARNIVORES I SWEAR TO HIGH HEAVEN!) and find a balance between brutal honesty, and softness during rough times. If your dog will probably die, I’m gonna tell you that, but I’ll give options.

Another thing is while many animals COULD live through last injuries, such as broken jaws, rarely do owners have the time or resources to heal their pet to a point of actually living vs surviving. Is it possible? Yes. But rarely feasible. Sometimes it’s better to let your pet go, take a few days if you can to give them the best time ever, feed them chocolate before the visit, and give lots of good boy/girl kisses.

Lastly, farm vets look less at keeping animals super comfortable vs fixing the problem as fast as possible. Obviously we do avoid putting animals in pain, but sometimes you have to yank a tooth, or disinfect a wound right then and there. It’s a delicate balance of caring for the animal, and understanding that farmers need cheap but long term results for their own livelihood.

Look up vetblr here as that has a lot more, actually trained, graduated and qualified individuals than me. The biggest thing is for vets, you live and breathe animals. You aren’t paid that well, school is expensive, it is taxing on your body, and mentally and emotionally exhausting. Hell, half the vets I know will take money out of their own pockets to lower costs for surgeries needed for pets! It’s HARD, and I personally suggest looking at other animal based careers for something to fall back on. (Also, I hate petstores! May they all burn!)

[babbushka]

Some of those prompts are so funny! Can you please write this one for Flip or a Kylo AU? It’s hilarious!

“I may be loves bitch but at least I’m man enough to admit it.”

A/N: This silly little something is completely inspired by chatting with my dear friend @safarigirlsp !

2k, Flip chugging his respect women juice aka being his wife's #1 fan (he's a lil confused but he's got the spirit) cw: lowkey 1970s misogyny

Flip’s about ready to bang his head on the fucking desk in front of him from frustration, when he hears it. Those magic words that somehow get him through the day, each and every day, when the hours drone on and on and on at the station, when he feels like he’s been there for six years instead of only six hours.

In the habit that he and Ron have built up ever since being desk neighbors in the narcotics unit’s special glass office, Ron has finally come around and saved him from sudden death by boredom, by slapping a hand on Flip’s shoulder and happily announcing, “Present for you in the lobby.”

“Shit it’s already lunch?” Perking up at once, Flip shoves himself away from his desk, sparing a glance to his watch and seeing that it was in fact noon. He doesn’t even bother to push his chair in as he weaves through the other desks in the office on his way to the door, stopping himself before practically bolting to ask, “Thanks Ron, you stickin’ around? She said she was bringing stuff over for us.”

Ron only nods, knowing that Flip wants to get to you as quickly as possible, and so he spares him the conversation so that the detective can do just that.

You’re beautiful, as you always are, in the lobby of the CSPD. Currently chatting away with one of the secretaries at the front desk, you’re dressed in that new outfit Flip likes so much, your hair done up all pretty and fashionable. Instantly, his day is made better just by your being here -- something that he’s grateful for, because his day had been pretty fucking trying up until this point.

“Hi honey!” You catch sight of him, face lighting up, and Flip can’t resist a smile when you’re so happy to see him like this.

His cowboy boots take him across the lobby and into your arms, and he’s immediately taking the weight of the basket that you’re carrying out of your hands, placing it gently on the floor so he can squeeze you tight with a hug and a kiss.

“Hey ketsl, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He pats your ass lovingly, before picking up the basket and leading you through the lobby back towards the rec room.

“Right back at you handsome, I hope you’re hungry, I brought you the biggest roast beef sandwich I could possibly make.” You wink at him, and like clockwork, his stomach growls, making him chuckle a little.

“You’re a fuckin’ miracle and a half, I’m starvin’ -- ”

Suddenly, you stop with a frown, looking through the little window of the door to the conference room as you pass by it.

“What’s going on in there?” You ask, pointing your thumb in the room’s direction, and Flip doesn’t know what you mean.

“Huh?”

“Is there a meeting that you’re missing?” You ask, and Flip frowns then, because he doesn’t think so anyway.

But save for Jimmy and Ron, it looks like the entire narcotics unit is crammed into the conference room, along with a handful of rookie cops, homicide detectives, janitors, and even some of the press. They’re all watching someone draw a big graph on the black board, the unmistakable sound of chalk squeaking punctuating the speaker’s passionate presentation.

“No, Chief would’ve said something...oh for fuck’s sake.” It takes Flip two seconds to recognize what’s on the chart, and immediately he’s shaking his head.

It’s a line graph, the Hot-Crazy Matrix, this new thing that’s got all the men in the country thinking they know everything about women. The gist is the hotter a woman is, the crazier she gets, and everything about it rubs Flip the wrong fuckin’ way, especially when he presses his ear against the door and listens in on what they’re actually saying.

“...If you find yourself in the Fun Zone, your main goal is to move out of the Fun Zone to a more permanent location.” “Now above the ‘crazy’ line, we have the Danger Zone. This is your redheads, your strippers, uh, anyone named Tiffany -- ”

“Hairdressers!” One of the men from the back of the room shouts.

“Yes, hairdressers, this is where your car gets keyed, your tires get slashed, and you wind up in jail. At this point you have to understand that this is not a static environment. This is a situation where you have got to use this matrix over time to develop some relatable data. At any moment in time, any woman that you have previously located on this chart can vanish, and reappear anywhere else on the chart.”

“Let me break this up really quick -- ” Flip reaches for the door with a dark scowl on his face, but you put a hand on his arm to stop him.

“No.” You look at him with wide, playful eyes, “No I think we should sit in on it, see what they say. Cause a little trouble.”

Flip loves the way you think, and with a sigh, he makes sure you stay behind him as you both slip through the door, unnoticed with how quiet you are. All eyes are on the blackboard as the speaker -- a greasy looking beat cop -- draws a line on the chart.

“Now, above an eight ‘hot’ and between a seven and a five ‘crazy’, this is your Wife Zone. When you meet this girl, you should consider a long term relationship. And if you find a woman who is below a five crazy, and above an eight hot, this is your Unicorn. We call them that because they do not exist. If you happen to find one, please uh let us know, we’d like to study it and try if we can, to replicate it.”

There’s a round of laughter from the crowd, and Flip can feel your hand tense in his own. He’s practically unable to hold himself back, when the cop finally sets down the chalk, dusts off his hands, and regards the room as someone else turns the lights back on.

“Anyone have any questions?” The cop asks, and Flip’s clearing his throat before he knows what he’s even doing.

“Yeah, hi.” Drawing all attention to him, Flip puts his hands on his hips, towers tall above all the other men in the room by at least three inches, and deadpans, “Have any of you actually spoken to a woman before? I mean, for longer than the two minutes it takes for them to reject you.”

That’s clearly not what the men in front of him were expecting, because they just blink, slackjawed like the morons they are.

“What?” The speaker asks, caught off guard.

Flip sighs, lights up a cigarette and crosses his arms over his chest, puffing out a big intimidating cloud of smoke.

“Show of hands, who here is married?” He waits, and predictably, no one comes forward. He knows this, because he knows all the married couples at the station. You make it a point to know them, anyway. “Okay then, well, who here has a girlfriend? Who here has ever had a girlfriend?”

Still no hands, and maybe Flip shouldn’t be surprised, the kind of men that believe this shit are the kind of men that either wind up alone or abusing poor women that they can manipulate into staying with them, and Flip doesn’t have the time or energy for it much longer.

“Interesting.” He muses, having made his point while the room murmurs amongst themselves.

One particularly stupid cop makes the mistake of trying to be a tough guy, some pipsqueak five-foot-four wannabe wrestler speaks up from near the front of the room, “We don’t need your condescending bullshit, okay, Zimmerman -- ”

“And women don’t need your bullshit charts splitting them into categories of fuckable or not, and yet here you are.” Flip cuts him off, and you feel a sense of pride blooming in your chest. Flip is a good boy, it’s why you married him after all.

“You’re only saying that because your wife is standing right next to you.” The cop tries to push his buttons, and maybe it’s because Flip hasn’t eaten yet, but anger itches up his spine, and soon the crowd is parting like the Red Sea, for Flip who is gunning straight for him.

“Oh yeah? How’d you think I got my wife you piece of shit? Because I promise it wasn’t by treating her like some shiny object to win.” Flip grabs the cop by the front of his uniform, and hoists him clean off the floor so that he can pull him up to eye level.

“Well then maybe you got lucky and married the only woman in Colorado Springs who isn’t a huge bitch.” The cop doesn’t know when to quit, does he?

“That’s not fucking true, my wife is a bitch and I love her for it.” Flip’s temper flares, and he’s about to raise his fist to punch this guy in the face, when he hears your voice from across the conference room where you’ve been watching with an amused smile.

“Flip, come on let’s go eat, lunch is getting cold.” You say, even though technically the sub sandwiches were supposed to be cold anyway. They don’t need to know that though.

Flip drops the schmuck, lets him fall to the floor with a thud, and walks towards your outstretched hand. Apparently that’s funny to the guy, because he slaps his knee and scoffs with a dry laugh.

“See? You’ve gone soft from love. Maybe we’re better off without it.” He tries to get the other guys to chime in, but they at least know what’s good for them, and instead just scratch the back of their necks, averting Flip’s gaze.

“I may be love’s bitch but at least I’m man enough to admit it.” Flip places his hand in yours, and you give his palm a tight reassuring squeeze. Looking down at you sweetly, he flicks the ash of his cigarette onto the floor and holds the door open for you leaving the conference room with a patronizing, “And at least I have a damn good woman to come home to. You losers enjoy your pity party.”

Finally in the rec room, you and Flip relax with Ron and Jimmy, your CSPD boys enjoying the big sub sandwiches you made and brought over. The little excursion in the conference room ate up only about fifteen minutes of Flip’s lunch hour, something that you and your husband are happy about. He’d be pissed off if he wasted any more time than that.

Everyone enjoyed the sandwiches and bottles of pop, most especially your Flip, who happily sat you down on his lap and wound his arms around you, feeling extra possessive.

“Out of curiosity, where in that chart would you put me?” You ask Flip, expecting him to take a couple moments to mentally weigh his options.

To your unamused surprise, Flip, Ron, and Jimmy all unanimously answer just about as soon as you’ve finished asking the damn question, not one of them even bothering to swallow their sandwich first before replying, “Danger Zone.”

“Hey!” You smack Flip’s chest with a scoff, and Ron and Jimmy immediately break out into laughter.

“You asked.” Jimmy points out with a shrug, just lucky that he’s out of your reach, lest he get smacked too. Ron also dips out of the way, but it’s only a moment later that Flip’s got his hold on you tighter, preventing you from swatting at your friends.

Flip holds you and kisses all over your cheek, his goatee tickling you as he presses his face against yours, nuzzling his nose against yours sweetly even though he’s basically just called you crazy.

“I married you anyway, didn’t I?” Flip’s big brown eyes try to sweeten the deal, and as much as you want to give him a hard time for being such a dork, you have to admit that it works.

“Thin ice, Zimmerman, thin ice.” You shake your head playfully, relaxing into Flip’s embrace a little as he settles you properly onto his lap again from where you were a wiggle worm, squirming away.

“You love me.” Flip smiles.

And despite it all you have to roll your eyes and grin because, “Yeah, I really do.”

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Tagging some Flip lovin’ friends! @mochabucky@sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions@direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux@kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow@babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks@materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @han68000@rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @loverofallthings@groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless@angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975@cornmousequeen @metsienmenninkainen@caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars @caitlin-was-here @icarusinthesea

[flourgirl]

Sleepyhead

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter will try just about anything to help out the very pretty insomniac from his math class.

Work Count: 11.2k

Warnings: Just some sweet, pure fluff with a few curse words every now and then.

A/N: Either the tags aren’t working for me or you guys just didn’t like it, but the final part of “Even If It’s a Lie” has been out for a few days now if anyone’s interested in reading it 🥺 Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this super long piece I’ve been working on to help me get through finals <3

“Touch you softly I call you up late at night No doubt it isn't right But you could be my one and only” -Softly, Clairo

Peter had seen you around campus a few times, but it wasn’t until you started sitting two rows ahead of him in his linear algebra class that he really started to notice you. 

He thought you were really pretty, and he liked how cozy you always looked in the puffy winter coat you kept on in the perpetually freezing lecture hall. You took a lot of notes, which told him that you cared about the class, and never showed up without a giant cup of iced coffee.

You’re being a creep, Peter told himself. He had thought about switching seats to somewhere in front of you, so he could actually listen to his professor discuss permutations instead of staring at how you chewed on the end of your pen when you were thinking.

It was even worse when you started sleeping in class, your soft hair falling around your shoulders as you leaned your head against your desk. It seemed like all the coffee in the world couldn’t keep you awake, and Peter wondered if he should ask if you wanted to borrow his notes or something. But that would mean him admitting to looking at you way more than he needed to, and that was weird, so he quickly dropped the idea.

Still, he was worried about you. So when he came back from patrol in the middle of the night and bumped into you outside of the dorm kitchen, he figured it would be the perfect opportunity to introduce himself and maybe even find out why you were so tired all the time. 

The only problem was that he had accidentally knocked your pan of banana bread out of your hands, and you were currently staring at it laying on the floor with your sleepy eyes, not saying anything.

“Shit, uh, I’m so sorry,” he told you, crouching down to scoop up the remnants of your late-night snack into the pan. “Were you really up baking at 3 a.m?”

You blushed a little, starstruck that the cute guy from your math class was talking to you. “Um, yeah. I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I’d come down to the kitchen while nobody else was here and make something. Baking always helps me calm down, and so here I am. And here we are. And there’s my bread, all covered in whatever kind of dust the custodians refuse to sweep down here.”

He offered a soft smile, and it made you feel better about the fact that you were rambling way more than you wanted to.

“I’m Y/N,” you continued, gently taking the pan from his hands. “You’re in linear algebra with Professor Meyers, right?”

“Yeah, you, um, you sit right in front of me. Well, not right in front of me. Two rows in front of me. Shit. I’m not creepy, I promise. It’s just… uh… My name is Peter and I’m going to stop talking now.” 

That couldn’t have possibly gone any worse, he thought. You were probably thinking he was a serial killer or something.

“It’s okay. I know you sit behind me,” you reassured him. “You answer a lot of questions.” He was cute and smart, and you hoped he couldn’t notice how flustered you were to be this close to him.

“What are you doing up so late?” he asked, which made you laugh at how ironic his concerns were, considering he was also wandering around the dorm basement at this hour.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you replied, sitting on one of the benches that jutted out of the walls of the corridor. “I mean, you’re here too. At least I was baking. What’s up with you?”

You had a point. “I had an emergency… with my internship. I work for Stark Industries, and Mr. Stark rang me in the middle of the night to come to the lab immediately for something, so, yeah. That’s why I’m awake right now.”

“Okay,” you said, not buying his story. “So that’s why you have a black eye and you’re lurking in the basement hallway? Did Tony Stark punch you?”

Fuck. Did he really have a black eye and not notice? He didn’t think that Doc Oc’s stupid mechanical arm had punched him that hard, but apparently, he was wrong. And now he had to come up with some reason as to where it came from, although he could already tell that you were about to call his bluff.

The only solution he could think of was to change the subject. “Why are you always asleep during class?” he blurted out, causing you to give him a funny look before frowning down at your slippers.

“Isn’t it obvious,” you yawned, stretching your arms out in front of you. “I’m an insomniac. It’s actually kind of funny. I never really had any problems with falling asleep until I moved here. Maybe it’s the cold weather or the constant pressure to get good grades, but I just can’t sleep anymore. It sucks.”

Normally, you’d never tell this much about yourself to somebody, let alone a complete stranger. But somehow, you felt really comfortable around Peter. There was just something about him that made you feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Peter caught himself staring at you again, your baby pink pajamas a far departure from how put together your usual outfits were. Even without your makeup or hair done, you were still the prettiest girl he had ever seen. For some reason, even the dark circles under your eyes were really cute to him.

“You never answered my question,” you reminded him, hoping that he’d say something to fill the awkward silence. “What’s with the black eye and wandering around in the middle of the night? Are you some kind of superhero?”

“What? No! That’s crazy. Me, a superhero,” he laughed awkwardly, wondering if you had somehow figured out his secret identity. Had you spotted him that one time he made sure that you and your friends got home safely from a late-night study session? Even so, you totally couldn’t have known it was him, right?

“Relax, I’m just joking,” you giggled, thinking about how cute he looked when he was flustered. “Although my friend did tell me she thought she saw Spider-Man a few weeks ago on her way back from a party.”

“Haha, yeah,” he breathed out, a wave of relief washing over him. It was times like these that he really started to appreciate how well-hidden his muscles were underneath all of his oversized sweaters.

“Does that hurt?” you asked, bringing your hand up to lightly brush his lip, which was bleeding. He flinched instinctively before settling under your touch, your eyes focused on the small cut. “I have a first aid kit in my room if you want some help cleaning it up.”

“Oh, no, it’s cool. I wouldn’t want to bother your roommate,” Peter told you, scooting further away on the bench, nearly falling off the edge of it. Ned hated it when he stumbled in at some ungodly hour after patrol and woke him up. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, standing up and gesturing for him to follow you. “I have a single.”

Peter looked at you in awe. Freshmen never got rooms to themselves, and yet somehow you had one. “Okay, fine. But only because I’ve never actually seen a single in this building before.”

“That’s cool with me,” you smiled, reaching for his hand so he could keep up with your pace. He noticed that you were chewing some of the banana bread, which he really hoped was from the part that didn’t fall on the floor. To be fair though, it did smell really good.

Not only did you have a single, but you lived on the first floor. Peter couldn’t believe how lucky you were, considering the building that the two of you lived in didn’t have any elevators to traverse its seven floors.

He was even more shocked when you opened your door, revealing the coziest dorm room he had ever seen. How on earth did you transform the glorified prison cell into something that felt so... comforting? From the twinkling lights that were wrapped around everything and the soft rug under his feet, Peter found it really hard to believe that you had trouble sleeping here.

“Sorry, it’s a bit messy,” you apologized, piling your many throw pillows and blankets into a basket to clear up some space on your bed. “You can sit here.”

If this was messy, then Peter and Ned’s room needed some serious help. “No worries,” he said, watching as you rummaged around your drawers in search of your first aid kit.

Eventually, you found it hidden under a bunch of graph paper and colored pencils, untouched ever since your overprotective grandparents had helped you move in. “Here we go,” you mused, now looking inside it for alcohol wipes and band-aids.

He winced as you rubbed the little cloth against his lips, and you made sure to be more gentle as you cleaned up the other cuts on his face. Thankfully, nothing was bad enough to require stitches, something you were seriously under-qualified to do.

All Peter could focus on the entire time was how close you were and what it would be like to just kiss you right then and there, but he knew that was way too forward of him. Plus, he didn’t even know if you liked him like that. Surely you were just being nice.

Still, the way he caught you staring into his brown eyes after smoothing a band-aid on his forehead made him think otherwise.

“You’re going to have to tell me eventually who beat you up,” you sighed, gathering up wrappers to throw away and tucking the first aid kit back into its place in your drawers.

“It’s a long story,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding your stare.

“I’ve got time,” you replied, climbing onto your lofted bed to sit next to him, innocently brushing your bare leg against his jeans, which made his breath hitch. “Tell me about it.”

“Uh, how about another time?” he stammered, hopping off the bed and running his hand through his hair. “After class tomorrow, or something. It’s getting pretty late. We should, um, go to sleep.”

“You can stay here if you want,” you offered, his eyes widening at your invitation. “On the bean bag, I mean. It’s actually really comfortable. You mentioned something about bothering your roommate and I figured that maybe you’d like to avoid the trouble tonight.”

“Oh…” Peter hesitated, looking for a reason to say no. He knew he’d never be able to sleep knowing that you were in the same room as him. “I don’t have any pajamas.”

“True,” you agreed, a little disappointed that he wasn’t interested in sticking around.

“I don’t actually even wear pajamas to sleep,” he continued, making you look back up at him instead of playing with the hem of your shirt. “It’s just… I sleep in my boxers.”

“I’m sorry for asking. I didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable situation,” you sighed, your face hot with embarrassment.

“It’s not that! I mean, I do want to stay here. But, uh, you… well, you make me really nervous, Y/N,” he muttered, his glance bouncing around the room.

“Why?” you asked, your brows furrowing. “Did I do something?”

“No, no! Nothing at all. I promise, okay?”

“Okay. You can, um, get ready for bed, I guess. I promise not to look,” you assured him, turning on your side to face the wall.

“Thanks. Yeah, alright.” You heard him fumbling with his clothes, his sneakers making a soft thud on your floor. You did your best to resist the urge to glance back at him.

“Can I just use any of these?” he asked, although you had no idea what he was talking about.

“Peter, I’m not looking, remember? You’re going to have to be a little more specific than that.”

“The blankets. Do I just pick one, or are you particular about them?”

“Oh. You can use whichever one you want to. But the coral one’s the softest and my personal favorite.” Peter stared at the basket in confusion. To him, they were all just pink. But based on touch alone, he pulled one out that he figured was a little more orange than the others.

He walked over to the light switch and flipped off the overhead fluorescents, letting the room be illuminated by the warm glow of your fairy lights, which weren’t too bright, but still twinkly and beautiful.

“Goodnight, Peter,” you whispered, snuggling into your comforter in the hopes that your heartbeat would slow down and let you fall asleep for once.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” In a matter of minutes, you could hear his soft snoring, and you figured that it would be okay just to take a quick peek since he’d probably be bundled up in one of your blankets.

His hair was perfectly messy, and he looked so cozy wrapped up in the blanket you had recommended. Still, as much as you could stare at his adorable face all night, you were exhausted. Burying your face under the covers, you did your best to calm your nerves and get some rest before class tomorrow.

----------------

“Peter,” you whispered, jostling him lightly by the shoulders in the hopes of waking him up. “Uh, we have an hour before class. I was thinking that it would be enough time for you to go shower and change, and then we could go get coffee or something.”

He blinked back up at you, amazed at how well he slept on your bean bag. You had already gotten ready for the day, doing your makeup and picking out one of your many fluffy sweaters to keep you warm in the New York snow.

“Thanks, that sounds awesome,” he yawned, accepting the hand you held out to help him up. The blanket fell, and you stared at each other in shock, having forgotten that Peter was in nothing but his underwear.

You dropped his hand as fast as you could, covering your eyes. “Oh my god! I’m sorry. Shit, I completely forgot, Peter. I’m so sorry. I’ll let you get dressed.”

Peter watched as you stumbled around the room, your eyes squeezed tightly as your hands attempted to guide you away from him.

“Y/N,” he started, catching your attention as you nearly ran into your bed frame. “You can open your eyes. Really, I don’t care if you see me like this if it means I can keep you from breaking your nose.”

You hesitantly opened your eyes, relieved that Peter had already managed to pull his pants back on. Still, he was completely shirtless, and you found yourself staring at the abs you would have never expected to be hiding underneath his clothes.

Moments later, you averted your gaze, although you knew that he probably noticed you looking at where was now covered by his plaid button-down and dark blue sweater.

“I’ll, um, be right back,” he muttered, before practically sprinting out of your room and up the stairs. You groaned in embarrassment, burying your face in a pillow before attempting to take a quick twenty-minute power nap.

Peter couldn’t believe it. Sure, he had thought one time about you seeing him without clothes on, but this wasn’t how he thought it would go at all. Still, the image of you staring at him shirtless, your face flushed, made him feel like he was going to have a heart attack.

“Dude! There you are,” Ned screamed, startled at his roommate’s unexpected entrance. Peter panted, having run up four flights of stairs as fast as he could. “Wait a second. Did you finally get laid? Is this a walk of shame?”

Before Ned could praise him any further, Peter was grabbing a change of clothes and sprinting towards the bathroom. Don’t think about her, he begged himself.

The memory of your leg touching his last night immediately came to mind, and Peter was so angry at himself for being this starved for physical intimacy. To be fair, though, you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, and so he cut himself some slack.

Shit, he told himself, making sure the water was set to cold. He needed to calm down, but instead, his thoughts were stuck on how good you looked in your pajamas, but also how good you would look without them and—fuck it. 

Peter liked you a lot, and if thinking about you like this in private kept him from being a complete weirdo in person, then maybe he just needed to get his feelings of desperation over with.

When he came back down to your room about thirty minutes later, you were still super tired. You trudged your way towards the door, your hair now noticeably messier than earlier, but at least that meant your nap had been a success.

His hair was still damp and this time he was wearing yet another blue sweater, which made you wonder if he ever wore any other color. He had his backpack slung over one of his shoulders and a nervous smile on his face as he locked eyes with you.

“Hey,” he said, pushing some of his hair out of his face. “Are you ready to go?”

You leaned against the doorway a little bit, letting out a yawn that was literally the cutest noise Peter had ever heard in his life. “Yeah, let me get my backpack.”

“It’s so heavy,” you continued, rightfully complaining as the weight of all its contents practically pulled you downwards. “I think it’s so stupid how almost every professor bans computers from class. Like, it’s not fair that I have to lug around three textbooks every day. I don’t have time to run back to my dorm in between classes like some people!”

Peter frowned. Three textbooks were nothing to him, but he knew that you didn’t have spidey-strength and that you were also pretty tiny compared to him. It must’ve been hell on your back to be carrying all that stuff around every day.

“I can carry it for you,” he offered, holding out his hand to switch with you. “Here, you can take my backpack if it’ll make you feel better. I have a lot of programming classes today, so I’ve only got my laptop and a notebook in there.”

You gave him a look of gratitude as he traded bags with you, literally taking the weight off your shoulders. He was right. His backpack was much more manageable for you, even if the dark grey contrasted with the light colors you always wore.

In contrast, it looked kind of odd for him to be walking around with a backpack that was covered in a soft pink floral pattern, much like everything else you owned, but the sight of him carrying your books brought a smile to your face. 

It was one of the sweetest things a guy had ever done for you, and Peter wasn’t even your boyfriend. He probably didn’t even think of you in that way.

“Uh, where do you usually get coffee?” he asked, slowing his pace so you could keep up. He felt bad seeing how tired you were, no doubt due to the lack of sleep you got last night.

“The Starbucks next to Hendrie Hall,” you replied, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “You?”

“I don’t drink coffee,” he admitted. “I’m actually more of a tea person.”

“Oh,” you hesitated, wondering if it was worth it to walk all the way across campus just for a caramel ribbon crunch frappuccino. “We could go somewhere closer then.”

“It’s okay,” Peter reassured you, grabbing your hand and pulling you along to your destination. “I like walking.”

----------------

You hadn’t really talked to Peter since that morning before class, but sometimes you would peek behind you and catch him stealing glances at you. Eventually, he had started to feel brave enough to give you a little wave whenever you caught him looking at you. Well, at least the times when you were awake.

One day, not even the loud shuffling and growing chatter of your classmates exiting the lecture hall could wake you up, and Peter figured he better do something before you got chewed out by one of the TAs.

“Y/N?” he said, leaning closer so that you could hopefully hear him. “Y/N. You gotta wake up. Class ended three minutes ago.”

He shook you a little bit, nervously hoping that you wouldn’t mind him touching you. Your eyes fluttered open, and you smiled softly as soon as you realized it was Peter. 

“Oh. Thanks,” you said, standing up to slide your empty notebook into your backpack. Your hand brushed the side of your mouth, making sure you hadn’t drooled onto yourself.

“You can borrow my notes,” he offered, glancing at you sheepishly as you gathered up your coat and fixed your hair. “If you want to.”

“That’d be great,” you sighed, wondering whether you should skip your next class and just go take a nap. At this point, you weren’t even bothering to put on makeup and you basically wore whatever clothes you had that weren’t already sprawled across your room.

“Are you alright?” Peter asked, walking close to you to make sure you didn’t fall over. He knew you were an insomniac, but you looked seriously sleep-deprived today. “Have you been sleeping at all lately?”

“Nope,” you huffed, lugging your perpetually heavy backpack along. “But I’m skipping the rest of my classes today. I’d rather lie that I’m sick through an e-mail than have to explain to my professors why I was sleeping during their classes.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed, stopping you in your tracks to take your backpack from you. “I’ve actually got some time before my next class. I can walk you back to your room and give you my notebook if that’s okay with you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you told him, reaching to take your bag back from him, although he didn’t let you. 

“Y/N. Come on, you’re exhausted. At least let me carry your stuff, alright?” He had such a kind look in his eyes, and you certainly didn’t have the energy to keep arguing for no reason.

“Okay.” You crossed your arms, the cold air slowly waking you up as the wind hit your face. Your ears were super cold, but you were glad you had pulled your hair into a quick braid to keep it from flying everywhere.

It wasn’t long before you were kicking your boots off in your dorm room, your teeth chattering as you wrapped yourself in a blanket. 

“Do you want some tea?” you asked Peter, inviting him to sit down wherever.

“Sure, but I thought you drank coffee,” he reminded you, watching as you pulled an assortment of tea bags for him to choose from.

“I do,” you said, handing him the box and running to your bathroom to fill up the electric kettle. “But you drink tea.”

Peter’s ears suddenly felt hot. You had gotten tea just for him. Or maybe you were just a really good hostess and kept some around for all of your visitors. Probably the second option, he thought.

“Are you even allowed to have one of those?” he asked as the two of you waited for the water to boil.

“No,” you laughed, sitting next to him on your bed. For someone with so much space to themselves, you really needed to invest in more places to sit. “But you can’t have candles or fairy lights either, so I guess I’m just a rule breaker.”

“Guess I’ll just have to report you to the RA,” Peter teased, getting up to make himself a cup of earl grey. “Do you have any sugar?”

“Top drawer on the right,” you replied. “Do you have a sweet tooth?”

“Yes.” You watched as his lips blew on the tea to cool it down before remembering that it was weird to stare.

“You should let me bake something for you. What’s your favorite dessert?” You were kicking your dangling legs, suddenly feeling a lot more awake than this morning.

“Chocolate cake. With chocolate frosting,” he said in between sips, walking back over to you. With you on the tall bed and him standing, your faces were level with each other.

“I’ll have to make you one to thank you,” you smiled, peering into his eyes. Peter felt your heartbeat quicken, and the grin on your face as you stared at each other made him weak in the knees.

“Can I get those notes?” you asked, making him remember that people don’t just look at each other and say nothing like that.

“Oh! Yeah, definitely.” He quickly set the mug down on your nightstand to rummage through his backpack, flipping one of his notebooks open before handing it to you. “There are the ones from today, but all of the ones I’ve taken this semester are in there too.”

“Wow,” you laughed, making a worried expression form on his face.

“What’s wrong? Are they not good?”

“No, it’s not that. They’re just, uh, very thorough.” He had basically transcribed your professor’s lectures onto the pages. “You must write really fast. But thank you, Peter. I really appreciate it.”

Peter nodded before nervously gulping down the rest of his tea, not even noticing how hot the liquid still was as it nearly burned his throat. 

“I should go now,” he started, looking around the room for his things. “I want you to get some rest, Y/N. Please.”

He had this look in his eyes that was so genuine—so full of care and concern—that it made you want to do whatever he asked you to.

“I’ll try,” you told him, awkwardly rubbing the top of your arm in the hopes that you could actually fall asleep after he left. “Have a nice day, Peter.”

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll stop by later,” he said, already halfway out the door. “For the notes, I mean! Uh, bye. Again. Okay. I’m going to go now.” 

You giggled, giving him one last wave before he left. Like magic, the more you thought about how Peter was worried about you, the easier it was for you to drift off into a peaceful sleep, finally feeling at ease for the first time in weeks.

----------------

You woke up later that day to Peter knocking on your door, this time standing next to some guy in a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt.

“Hi, Y/N,” Peter greeted you. You looked a lot less tired than when he saw you this morning, which relieved him. “This is my roommate, Ned. He just wanted to know who I’ve been hanging out with, so I hope it’s okay that I brought him here to prove you’re real and not a figment of my imagination.”

Ned leaned closer to you, your hair still a little messy from your nap. “Blink twice if he’s paying you,” he whispered, causing you to giggle. Peter looked on nervously, unsure of what his best friend had just said to you.

“What did you say!?” he asked, lightly pushing Ned on the arm, knowing that it was probably something meant to embarrass him.

“Ow! Okay, now I’m really not telling you,” Ned replied, rubbing the spot where Peter had just hit him.

“Y/N, what did Ned say to you?” He turned to you, a worried look on his face as you and Ned held back your laughter. Peter’s face turned as red as a tomato, making you instantly feel a little bit bad. 

“It was nothing, Peter. Really,” you said, pulling him into the room with you. “It was nice to meet you, Ned. I’ll make sure he’s back before curfew.”

Ned laughed, offering a quick thumbs up and mouthing “I like her” to Peter before you shut the door on him.

“I knew that was a mistake,” Peter sighed, his back against the door. You were still a bit giddy from the exchange, giggling softly as he slowed his breathing.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed around me,” you reassured him. “We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah, of course. It’s just that…”

“What?” You could barely hear him as his voice trailed off.

“Well, uh, not all of my friends are, you know…”

“Spit it out, Peter,” you said, leaning closer so that you could hear him better.

“They’re not as pretty as you,” he muttered, making you blush at his words. Did he really think you were pretty?

“Oh. Thanks,” you smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Peter lifted his head up, relieved that you didn’t think he was a creep or something.

“Your notebook’s on my desk,” you continued, stepping back a little to give him some space. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the distance between you and him grew. “I just took a bunch of pictures, so I can look at them on my computer whenever.”

“Alright, awesome,” he said, walking over to collect it before turning back to you. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty well, actually. The best I’ve slept in a while. I think you’re some kind of good luck charm.”

“Really?” he asked, a little surprised that he had been helpful.

“Really. You know, I’ve been thinking…”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe it’d be nice if we hung out somewhere that wasn’t my room all the time,” you said, a hopeful look in your eyes. “If you want.”

Peter had never noticed it before, but the two of you really did spend most of your time together in your room. It really was a nice room, but it made sense that you’d want to get out of it every once and a while.

“I’d like that. What did you have in mind?” Play it cool, Parker, he told himself. You can freak out with Ned later.

“How about ice cream on Friday?” you suggested, which came as a bit of a surprise to him.

“In the middle of winter?” As far as Peter could remember, you were always cold.

“Yeah. I really love ice cream,” you added, smiling up at him.

“Okay, then. Ice cream it is,” he agreed. There was absolutely no way he could ever say no to you when you looked at him like that.

----------------

“May! No, it’s not a date. She’s just a friend. Yeah, I got it. Open the door, pay for her, don’t be an idiot!” Peter sighed into his phone, hoping his aunt’s unwarranted crash course on first dates would be over soon. “Yes, I’m wearing the green sweater. Thanks, love you. Bye!”

“I have no idea who told her I had a date tonight,” he groaned, slumping down onto the couch next to his best friend.

“I texted her,” Ned replied nonchalantly, not even looking away from whatever video game he was playing. “Knew you’d need some kind of pointers. Y/N is way out of your league.”

“Hey!” Was he right? Yes. Did Peter need to be reminded of it right before his not-a-date date with you? Definitely not.

“Come on, you know I’m right. It’s Liz Allan all over again. I have no idea how you keep pulling all of these pretty girls, but hey, credit where credit is due.”

“You’re so mean.”

“I keep it real and you love it. Good luck, man.”

“Bye,” Peter grumbled, slipping on his coat and walking out of their room. Four flights of stairs later, he was at your door.

“Hi!” you squeaked, wrapping your arms around him. This was the first time the two of you had ever hugged and Peter was not going to forget about it anytime soon. “Come in. I have a surprise for you!”

“Here,” you continued, holding out a blue and white beanie for him. “I made it for you. To match all those blue sweaters you wear all the time.” Except this time, he was wearing a forest green one, which brought out the slight hazel tinge in his eyes.

“You made this for me?” he asked, eyeing the different stitches you had used and fiddling with the pom-pom on top. It looked store-bought.

“Well, yeah, silly. I just said that,” you replied, hoping that he liked it. With all the time you didn’t sleep, you were knitting anyway, but this was a special present for him. “Try it on.”

“I didn’t get you anything,” he sighed, pulling the hat onto his head. He looked really cute, the ends of his wavy hair peeking out from underneath the brim.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said, pulling him out of your room and towards the front of the dorm building. “Getting to hang out with you is good enough for me.”

“Where’d you learn how to knit?” Peter questioned, walking alongside you on the snow-lined sidewalks. With how cold it was, and considering he didn’t have a hood on his coat, it seemed like perfect timing that you had given him a hat.

“My grandma taught me,” you shared, taking in the twinkling of the streetlamps and how they bounced against the snow. In New York, that was practically the closest you could get to stargazing. “My, uh, grandparents actually raised me.”

“Oh. I was raised by my aunt and uncle,” Peter confided. It made you feel not so alone to find out that he didn’t grow up with his parents either, even though you knew firsthand just how hard it was.

“Do they live around here?” you asked, stealing glances at him and how rosy his cheeks were in the cold air.

“Yeah, my aunt lives in Queens,” he told you, staring at his feet to both avoid eye contact and make sure neither of you accidentally slipped. Not that he wouldn’t catch you, but he wanted to be safe. “My uncle actually passed away a couple of years ago.”

You stopped walking, immediately feeling a sense of regret. “I’m sorry, Peter. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. There was no way for you to have known that,” Peter reassured you, his warm breath coming out in clouds, and he reached for your hand to run his thumb across your knuckles. He gently pulled you along, keeping you from dying of embarrassment in the middle of campus.

“What about you? Are you from around here?” he asked, hoping to break the silence and make you feel a little bit better.

“No, I just moved up here for college. I grew up in Texas but moved to North Carolina when I was 13, so I finished school down there,” you explained, Peter suddenly noticing a slight Southern twang to your voice. “I just really wanted to go to school in a big city and not next to a farm for once in my life.” 

“That makes sense,” he laughed, wondering what it would be like to live somewhere else. “I’ve only ever lived in New York City.”

“Do you like it here?”

“I love it. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, to be honest.”

“Me either,” you sighed, squeezing his hand tighter as the two of you enjoyed your walk in the snow.

It seemed like forever before you reached the ice cream shop, but you didn’t mind. That just gave you and Peter more time to get to know each other better. Turns out you both competed in academic decathlons, although you were more of a math person and he preferred science.

“Okay, you’re wrong. Night at the Museum 2 is so much better than the first one. I mean that kiss between Ben Stiller and Amy Adams? The Jonas Brothers as little cherub angels? Name one thing from the original that tops that,” you ranted in between spoonfuls of peppermint ice cream.

“I just really like when the little cowboy and gladiator are driving that toy car around,” he reasoned, subtly admitting defeat.

“Don’t even get me started on why the second Shrek movie—”

You were interrupted by the sound of Peter’s phone ringing, and you immediately recognized his ringtone as the Coconut Mall theme from Mario Kart. He peered down at his phone screen, sighing and mouthing an apology to you as he accepted the call.

“Uh, hey, Mr. Stark. Did you need something?” Well, at least you knew he wasn’t lying about his internship at Stark Industries. “Toronto? Tonight? I’m kind of busy.”

There was a long pause as Peter mentally kicked himself for talking back to Tony, resulting in an earful about how being an Avenger should always be at the top of his priorities.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’ll be right over… but I need a favor. Could you send Happy to pick my friend up? Yeah, it’s the ice cream shop on 1st. Thank you so much, Mr. Stark. Bye.” He frowned at you, and you could tell from what you had heard that he had to go.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. It’s just, something came up last minute and Mr. Stark really needs me to go on this business trip with him,” he apologized, pulling his coat on. “But, uh, he’s sending a car for you. So don’t worry about walking back alone, alright? I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you when I get back, okay? Bye!”

“Oh, okay. Bye!” you managed to call out before he was running out the doors and down the street. Lots of customers were staring as you awkwardly gathered your things and went to go wait on the sidewalk.

A few minutes later, a shiny black car had pulled up to the curb in front of you, a man rolling down the window.

“Miss Y/N? I’m Happy Hogan. Mr. Stark sent me to drive you home,” he called from the driver’s seat, before getting out to open your door for you. You stepped in, a little starstruck at how nice the car was. You had never been in anything this expensive before. 

The two of you were sitting in silence until you finally got the courage to speak up. 

“Mr. Hogan,” you started, causing him to turn down the smooth jazz that had been playing on the radio. “Do you know why Peter has to go to Toronto?”

“Yes,” he replied, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. “But I can’t tell you that.”

“Oh, okay,” you accepted, shifting to look out the window at all of the places in the city that you hadn’t yet gotten the chance to explore. 

Eventually, he was dropping you off in front of your dorm, and you were trudging inside to your room to sulk about how your not-a-date date with Peter had gotten interrupted. You stared at your ceiling all night, wondering when the next time you’d see each other would be, and whether or not he’d come back with the same cuts and bruises as when you had first met.

----------------

Peter had been gone for six days and counting, and you were starting to worry that he might never come back. You had already started missing him the night he left, and now it was just some agonizing waiting game for him to return.

You must have spent hours in the basement kitchen before deciding to visit the fourth floor where Peter lived. You knocked on the door and was quickly met with Ned’s shocked expression.

“Uh, hi, Y/N. Peter’s not here right now. Did you need something?”

“I know,” you acknowledged, holding up the plate in your hand. “It’s just, well, I’ve been baking a lot and I didn’t really know who to give all of these cookies to, so I was wondering if you wanted any.”

“Oh, in that case, sign me up!” You watched as his face lit up as he noticed the assortment of chocolate chip, sugar, and snickerdoodle cookies all still warm from the oven. He offered his hands out to take the plate from you, which you happily relinquished. 

“These are really good,” he complimented, his mouth full of a sugar cookie. “Can I keep the rest of them?”

“Yeah, of course,” you answered, doing your best to smile despite how much you wished it had been Peter opening the door. “I’ll see you around, Ned.”

“Hey, Y/N,” he called out to you, making you turn around on the stairwell. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Peter’s going to be back any day now.” You nodded, offering him a wave and walking back down to your room.

Turns out Ned had been right. The strange noises outside of your window were masked by how loud you were jamming out to We Didn’t Start the Fire by Billy Joel, jumping around and listing off the lyrics that had never made much sense to you. Peter knocked louder on the glass, startling you as you quickly switched off the music to investigate.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, squinting your eyes to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. “Spider-Man? Is that really you?”

You fumbled to push up your window, extremely confused as to why one of the Avengers was outside your bedroom this late at night.

“It’s me, Y/N,” he explained, his voice suddenly becoming extremely familiar. Your eyes widened as you realized who was behind the mask.

“Oh my god! PETER?” you screamed as he slipped through the window, pulling off his mask and clapping a hand over your mouth.

“Don’t freak out. It’s okay. It’s just me, okay?” he stammered in an attempt to get you to calm down before an RA heard. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I really wanted to tell you, but we were in public when I left, and I couldn’t risk it. And I didn’t want to text it or do it over the phone because it’s kind of a big deal, so I figured I’d just come to see you as soon as I got back and Mr. Stark said that you have to promise—”

“It’s okay, Peter,” you interrupted, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face into the very weird material of his spider-suit. “I won’t tell anybody.”

He softened under your touch, resting his head on top of yours. “I like your dance moves,” he whispered, making you glare up at him, your face suddenly very red.

“How long were you watching?” you groaned, dramatically throwing yourself onto your bean bag, your face covered by your hands.

“Only for about a minute,” he answered, pulling your hands down so you could see him grinning at you. “I especially liked how you used your hairbrush as a microphone. Plus, I thought we agreed to stop being embarrassed around each other?”

“Well, that was before I knew you were freaking Spider-Man!”

“Okay, fair enough,” he agreed, nudging you to scoot over and make room for him.

“So, that’s what that whole Toronto thing was?” you asked as he sat next to you, your knee touching his.

“Yep. There was this thing about aliens and these guys that could shapeshift. It’s a lot to explain.”

“Are you going to keep that thing on all night?” you asked, gesturing at his outfit, which was very tight and very distracting from whatever alien story he had to tell.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so,” he shrugged. “I don’t have anything on underneath it.”

“How scandalous,” you teased. “Not so family-friendly after all, huh, Spidey?”

“Oh, shut up,” he quipped, rolling his eyes as you let out a long yawn.

“Have you been sleeping much?” he continued, suddenly remembering the issue that had brought the two of you together in the first place.

“Of course not. I’ve been too busy worrying about my classes and, oh, just some idiot I know that abandoned me in the middle of an ice cream shop. Pretty sure he said he’d make that up to me, by the way.”

“Okay, okay. Message received. What would you like?” Please say a kiss. Please say a kiss. Please say a—

“Can I meet them? The Avengers, I mean. It’s not like anyone else really has a secret identity except for you.”

“Oh. I mean, I’d have to ask Mr. Stark and the rest of the team and see if they’re cool with it, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Awesome! You’re the best,” you chimed, wrapping your arms around him and planting a kiss on his cheek.

It was then that Peter decided he would just never be able to wash that side of his face again, his heart nearly skipping a beat.

“Peter,” you said, breaking the silence he had left the two of you in. “I’m tired.”

“Me too,” he sighed. “I should head up to my room. Gotta make sure Ned knows I’m still alive.”

“Yeah, of course,” you agreed, standing up to see him out. “Aren’t you worried somebody will see you, though?”

“Y/N, it’s 4 a.m. I’m pretty sure that you and I are the only people on campus that are awake right now.”

“Oh, right. Still, be careful, okay?” you told him, slightly worried at his secret identity being found out by some college kid that just couldn’t stay off Twitter.

“Will do,” he said, smiling and giving you a little salute before leaving.

----------------

A few days later, before you could even greet him, Peter was already walking into your room. It was 10 p.m., a little earlier than when he usually came over, but by now you were used to him showing up at your door unannounced.

He was already wearing his pajamas, a t-shirt with a science pun and some flannel pants that he had invested in to avoid any more awkward moments between the two of you. You were dressed in leggings and a sweatshirt, the clothes you usually threw on after class just in case you fell asleep on accident. There had been more times where you had woken up sweaty with your jeans stuck to your legs than you were willing to admit.

“Okay, so I asked Mr. Stark about your request and he told me he doesn’t think now is a good time, but…” he grinned, holding out a giant cardboard box with some kind of minimalist home appliance on the front for you to look at.

“Am I supposed to know what that is?” you blinked back, trying to figure out what the hell you were staring at, considering that all of the text written on it was in a language you didn’t know how to read.

“It’s some fancy white noise machine from Japan. If I remember correctly, Mr. Stark said he made Pepper order it because I wouldn’t shut up about you, and it would be in everybody’s best interest if you got some sleep, so I could stop annoying him and the rest of the team.”

“Oh. That’s pretty thoughtful, I guess,” you said, gathering things off your floor to make space for it.

He set the box down on your rug and got to work opening it. Meanwhile, you were busy translating what exactly Tony Stark had so generously gifted to you.

“Peter, wait. This thing is like $300. Doesn’t he know that you can just look up whale noises on YouTube for free?”

“Yeah, but this one adjusts its volume based on the noises around it, has a light that simulates the sun rising, and has an alarm noise that’s supposed to support healthy cortisol levels.”

Peter peered up to see your arms crossed and brows furrowed, it suddenly becoming clear to him that the things he had just listed meant very little to you.

“Plus, he’s a literal billionaire, so I don’t think it was that big of a loss for him,” he added.

“Fine. Let’s just hope this thing works,” you sighed, watching as Peter leafed through the instruction manual before tossing it behind him. “It’s a little early to go to sleep, though.”

“Y/N, plenty of people go to sleep at 10. Not everybody is nocturnal like you.”

“I guess you have a point,” you agreed, kneeling down beside him as he fiddled with all the settings.

“I know,” he said with a smirk as you rested your chin on his shoulder to get a better look at what he was doing. “What time do you want to wake up? 7 a.m. would give us time to go get breakfast before class, but we could do 8 if you wanted to sleep in.”

“We?” you mused, liking the sound of that. “I guess that means you’re staying here tonight?”

“Well, yeah. I’m not letting you have all these overpriced rainforest noises to yourself.”

“Do 7. We can go get those blueberry muffins that you like,” you decided, standing up to get Peter’s makeshift bed on your bean bag ready. “Do you actually like sleeping on this thing, or were you just trying to be polite the first time I asked?”

“Dude, that thing is awesome. It’s like I’m on this little cuddly cloud, and then you add all those warm blankets and the twinkly lights and it’s the perfect recipe for me to fall asleep.”

“Wow,” you nodded, looking around your room to see all of the things that Peter was talking about. “I wish it worked that way for me.”

“Maybe it will, tonight.”

It didn’t. You were tossing and turning for nearly an hour to the agonizing sounds of birds cawing and the occasional monkey chatter, all set against the backdrop of a heavy thunderstorm. To be honest, it was something that would’ve given you nightmares when you were little.

“Y/N?” Peter whispered from the floor. “Are you sleeping?”

“No.”

“Me neither.”

“Could you turn that thing off? It’s really distracting me.”

“Yeah, of course,” he said, leaning over to switch the noise machine off. “Can I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything.”

He hesitated, not really sure if he should ask the question that he had been thinking about for a while now. “How old were you when your parents died?”

You had to think for a moment, not really sure about the answer. For as long as you could remember, you just lived with your grandparents. “Um, well my mom left when I was a baby. And I think my dad passed away when I was four.”

“Oh,” Peter mumbled. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have a parent leave you, but he didn’t want to pry just in case it was a sensitive topic. “Are your grandparents from your mom or dad’s side?”

You rolled over to rest your head on the edge of your bed so that you could see him better. He looked so cute bundled up in all of your blankets, his hair already a bit messy. “They’re my mom’s parents. It’s weird. I see a lot of pictures of her from when she was growing up, and I look so much like her, but she’s basically a stranger to me.”

Peter opened his mouth to say something else, but there was a long pause and he decided not to.

“What about you? How old were you when your parents passed away?”

“Five or six. They met while working at the C.I.A. together, but most of my memories are from the stories my aunt and uncle told me when I was growing up.”

For a moment, neither of you could find the right words to say to each other.

“Peter,” you spoke up, interrupting his thoughts. “I’m really glad I met you.”

“I’m really glad I met you too.”

----------------

Peter’s next plan of action involved even more advice from his fellow Avengers, and you were not looking forward to trying out any of their suggestions. 

“Okay, so, Steve—I mean Captain America—said that when he was little, you know, in the 1940s, all he had to do was drink a glass of warm milk before bed.”

“I’m lactose intolerant,” you groaned, crossing your arms.

“I just saw you eat an entire pint of Ben and Jerry’s in one sitting the other day.”

“Regular milk has almost 15 times more lactose than ice cream. You’d think a science nerd like you would know that.”

“I’m a geek,” he scoffed, clearly a little bit offended. “Not a nerd.”

“Yeah, I can see that now. It’s okay, though. At least you’re pretty,” you said, pinching his cheek.

“Just try it,” he grumbled, handing you the warm glass and waiting impatiently for you to take a sip. If anything, the milk did a better job at keeping you up that night than putting you to sleep. Not even thirty minutes after you had gone to bed, you were feeling sick to your stomach.

“I hate milk,” you gagged, Peter holding your hair back as you kneeled over the toilet bowl. “My grandpa could never get me to drink it as a kid.”

“Is that why you’re so short?” he laughed, helping you up. You glared at him as you moved to the sink to wash the acidic taste out of your mouth.

“Shut up, Parker,” you quipped, tired and grumpy from how terrible you felt. “Let’s just go back to sleep.”

“Alright, munchkin,” he smiled, pulling you out of the bathroom and back towards your bed.

Somehow, the warm milk wasn’t even the worst of Peter’s ideas, because a few days later, he was standing at your door with a bottle of some Asgardian sleep aid from the lightning god himself.

“Are you sure this is safe for me to drink?” you asked, your eyes widening as you stared at the silvery liquid that was almost shimmering.

“Uh, I’m about 87% confident you’ll live,” he said, “But I’m 100% sure that it’ll work.”

“Gee, thanks. Now I really want to drink this weird alien potion,” you sighed, looking at him nervously.

“Just drink a little bit and see if you feel anything,” Peter encouraged, leaning over your shoulder. You nodded, hesitantly bringing the drink up to your lips to take a sip.

“This stuff tastes amazing,” you mused, taking a bigger gulp this time. “Like a blue raspberry slushie.”

“Whoa, that’s enough,” he warned, taking the bottle from your hands before you could drink any more of it. “We don’t want you to go into a coma.”

“I don’t feel anything,” you shrugged, frowning back at him. “Maybe I should—”

You stopped mid-sentence to let out a loud yawn, the potion starting to take effect. Peter caught you as you slumped down in your chair, helping you into bed.

“Okay. I definitely feel it now,” you admitted, already half asleep. Peter tucked you under your blankets, placing a kiss on your forehead as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he whispered, turning off your lights and softly closing the door behind him. 

For a moment, Peter had thought he had finally found a solution to your insomnia. At least before you slept through class the next morning. And then the day after that. But it wasn’t until the third day that he really started to freak out.

“Where’s Thor!?” he panted, having run all the way from his class over to the Avengers Tower. Wanda and Vision stared back at him from the kitchen, very confused at what he was so panicked about.

“He’s in his room,” Bucky called from the couch, his mouth full of popcorn as 13 Going on 30 played on the big screen. “What’s going on, kid?”

“No time to explain. Gotta go!” Peter called, sprinting up the stairs towards Thor’s room. He knocked frantically until the door finally swung open.

“Greetings, young Spiderling. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Thor smiled, his long, golden hair shiny as ever.

“I think I killed my almost-girlfriend!” Peter blurted out, practically sweating from how stressed out he was. “She drank that stuff you gave me and she hasn’t woken up in three days now!”

Thor chuckled, patting Peter on the head. “Do not worry, my brother. I’m sure she will wake up given time. It was a very potent drink, after all. Calm yourself.”

“Okay,” he sighed, relieved to know that he hadn’t poisoned you to death. “Cool. Cool, cool, cool. She’s fine. Everything’s fine. Thanks, man. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around.”

“Farewell, Peter. May we meet again soon,” he grinned before closing the door in Peter’s face.

On the way back down the stairs, Peter figured he’d give you a call and see if you were still sleeping.

“Hello?” you groaned, your throat dry from just waking up. “Peter, what the hell happened to me?”

“THANK GOD YOU’RE ALIVE!” Peter yelled into the phone, making you recoil from the volume of his excitement. “You’ve been asleep for three days, Y/N. I thought you were dead.”

“I am very much alive,” you laughed, slowly feeling the potion wearing off. “Where are you?”

“Uh. I may have run all the way to Midtown to ask Thor if I had killed you,” he admitted, feeling you roll your eyes through the screen. “I was worried, okay?”

“Now you know how I feel whenever you leave for a mission,” you countered, glad that Peter couldn’t see how much you were blushing. “Hurry up and get your butt back over here. I have the weirdest dream to tell you about.”

----------------

Even if you still weren’t getting a full eight hours of rest at night, it was obvious that all of Peter’s efforts had vastly improved your sleep schedule. Over the past few months, you had gone from staring at your ceiling all night to actually being able to stay asleep for small periods of time.

“Your eyelashes are so long,” you mused, playing with Peter’s hair. He was sitting in between your legs and How the Grinch Stole Christmas was playing on your TV.

“Really?” He tilted his head back to look at you, batting his eyelashes and making you giggle.

“Yes. It’s not fair that boys get all of the pretty eyelashes,” you pouted, watching as the Grinch explained his plan to steal all of Whoville’s presents to his dog.

“I think yours are pretty,” he replied, a soft smile on his face. “But there’s a rogue one just hanging out on your face right now.”

“Can you get it?” you asked, your eyes still glued on the TV screen. Peter nodded, twisting around to gently brush the eyelash from your cheek.

“Do you want to make a wish?” he laughed, holding the little eyelash on the tip of his finger in front of you.

“Okay,” you agreed, squeezing your eyes shut and blowing it away. When you opened them, Peter’s face was only inches away from yours.

“What did you wish for?” His gaze shifted downwards to look at your lips for a split second, before returning to look into your eyes.

“I can’t tell you, dummy. Then it won’t come true.” You weren’t about to tell your best friend that you wished for him to kiss you. At least not now, while the two of you were stuck in this really weird “not dating, but more than just friends” limbo.

“Fine,” he frowned, crossing his arms and pouting in a way that you recognized had been mimicked after you.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you said, mirroring his stance. Your puppy dog eyes were definitely a lot more convincing than his.

“I’m not.”

“Uh-huh, sure. You smell really good, by the way. Well, your hoodie does. I could just wrap myself up in it and fall asleep.”

“How come you’ve never mentioned that before? You could’ve been out cold every night months ago!”

“Guess I was just too distracted by your dreamy face,” you teased, causing Peter to blush.

“Whatever. Seriously, though. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know. I think it took me a while to realize how sleepy I got whenever you were really close to me,” you shrugged. “You’re not mad at me, right?”

“Of course not. But if I had known sooner I would’ve just given you one,” he said, slipping the hoodie over his head and handing it to you. “Here, put it on. You better fall asleep instantly or I’m calling bullshit.”

“You caught me, Peter. This was all some elaborate plan for me to steal one of your hoodies.”

“Just put it on. The suspense is killing me.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled his hoodie on. Just from looking at Peter and how slim he was, you never would have guessed that it would be this oversized on you.

“How do I look?” you asked, striking silly poses in front of him. Peter involuntarily licked his lips and he knew he’d be replaying this image of you in his head for the next few weeks.

“You’re going to have to keep that,” he stammered, doing his best to hide how much he really liked seeing you in his clothes. “It looks a lot better on you. I, um, have to go do my homework. And call my aunt. And walk my roommate.”

Peter stumbled to his feet, staring at his wristwatch to maintain his act that he was late for something before grabbing his things and heading out the door, making sure to hold his backpack in front of him. “Let me know if the hoodie thing works. Bye!”

----------------

Brushing off Peter’s strangely abrupt departure from last night, you nuzzled into your pillow, the warm morning light spilling through your curtains. Last night had probably been your best sleep in months, and you even got to wake up late since it was Saturday. Things probably couldn’t have gone any better.

Before you knew it, you were running up to Peter’s room and banging on his door. He opened the door on your fourth knock, right after Ned had chucked a pillow at him, and you were met with his sleepy eyes and messy hair.

“It worked!” you yelped in excitement, twirling around and still wearing his hoodie. “Well, kind of. I fell asleep after about an hour, and then I slept for maybe three after that. But I had to pee in the middle of the night, and when I got back into bed I couldn’t fall back asleep until 6 a.m.”

“That’s some good progress,” he yawned, stepping out into the hallway to keep your little celebration from bothering Ned too much. “If only we could get you to sleep the entire night.”

“I know right. But I’m so happy!” you cheered, wrapping your arms around him. “We finally did something right!”

“We need to celebrate!” you continued, grabbing Peter’s hand and dragging him down the stairs. “Come on. We’re making you a chocolate cake!”

You stopped by your room on the way to the kitchen, piling a bunch of ingredients into Peter’s arms from your mini-fridge and various shelves.

“Okay, eggs, flour, butter, sugar, chocolate. Damn it. We’re all out of milk.” You side-eyed him, remembering the whole Captain America induced fiasco from a couple weeks ago. 

“I think we might have some in our room,” Peter laughed. “Ned drinks a lot of milk mixed with Milo powder. It’s some obsession he picked up when his family took a vacation to Australia. I’ll go get it.”

He set all of the ingredients you had given him on your desk and sprinted back up the stairs to raid Ned’s stash, already thinking of ways to apologize for it later.

A few minutes later he was knocking on your door, out of breath, and dressed to brave the many inches of snow that had fallen overnight. 

“We didn’t have any milk,” he panted. “But I can run to the dining hall and get a few cartons.”

“I’ll go with you.” You quickly pulled on your snow boots and layered your puffer coat on top of Peter’s hoodie, wrapping a hand-knit scarf around your neck just to be safe. “All ready.”

Getting the milk was the easy part. Making sure you didn’t die of frostbite was another story. By the time you and Peter got back to your room, your nose was super red and you couldn’t feel your toes.

“Okay,” you said, your teeth chattering. “I thought I was used to the snow by now, but that was something else.” You dropped your coat on the ground and climbed into your bed, burying yourself under your comforter.

“I thought we were making a cake,” he laughed, walking over to see you peeking out of the pile.

“Cake will have to wait,” you whined, your voice slightly muffled by the blanket. “Come here. I need some of your body heat.”

“Okay,” he stuttered, kicking off his sneakers and climbing in beside you. He had sat on your bed a lot since the two of you met, but this was the first time that he was actually laying in it. You snuggled up to him, and he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you.

“This is nice,” you sighed, nuzzling your head into his chest. “Is this one of your superpowers? Spidey-warmth?” Peter let out a soft laugh. It was silly but true. Ever since the bite, he never really noticed how cold it was outside anymore.

“Y/N,” he whispered, tightening his grip around your waist. Your head was nestled underneath his chin, and he could smell the faint citrus scent of your shampoo. “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it, Pete?” you yawned, your eyelids heavy from how comfy Peter’s cuddles were.

“I love you.” He held his breath, nervously waiting for you to respond.

“I know,” you giggled, intertwining your legs. “Sometimes, you talk in your sleep. You’ve probably professed your love for me at least eight times by now.”

“Oh.” Peter had no idea how he was supposed to respond to that.

“Don’t worry. I love you, too,” you assured him, grinning and placing little kisses on his jawline. “I thought that was obvious.”

“Maybe you could make it a little more obvious,” he mumbled, his heartbeat getting quicker as you shifted up to kiss him on the lips, your hand running through his hair.

“I will,” you smiled, your forehead resting against his. “But after we take a nap, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter agreed, snuggling as close as he possibly could to you, never wanting to let go. In no time at all, he watched happily as you fell asleep in his arms, wondering how the two of you hadn’t thought of this sooner.

----------------

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[sully-999]

Mickey and the Gallaghers Part 2

This might be the lowest point of his life he thinks. Even on the lowest points of his alcoholism and all the shit with college and Helene he was only really fucking up his own life.

But now, shit was different. He had 3 (potentially 4) people that depended on him. He had no job, no stable income, and no potential leads to other opportunities.

They had decided not to sell the house to Shelby and to wait for another bigger offer to come in. The Gallagher house had survived and been their shelter their entire lives. Lip was sure it would continue to be, but now they had less furniture, fewer appliances, and worst of all no fucking hot water.

He was at a loss. Desperation filled every cell of his body. Even if he worked on this stupid delivery job all day he couldn’t front the expenses to repair the pipes or the water heater.

Lip was a hustler. He knew what he could do to come up with the money. Less than legal ways to do it. But after the whole Born Free debacle, he had sworn to Tami that he wouldn’t do anything that could potentially affect them. Regardless, things were still too hot with the police still sniffing around.

He knew Ian and even Carl could lend him some money but he couldn’t find a fiber in his body that made him want to ask them. He was supposed to be the big brother, the protector. How the fuck did it all come to this?

He was so involved in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the footsteps climbing up the porch stairs. With his head on his palms, he only saw the combat boots and thought it was Ian but when he looked up he saw instead his brother-in-law looking at him with an inquisitive face.

“Hey man, what’s up?” “Ian sent me to pick up some shit he left in the room.” “Oh ok” “He’s at fucking Yoga class or some shit” “Wow in true west side fashion”

They stayed in awkward silence for a while. Lip and Mickey had known each other for years. They had done some crazy things when they were younger and normally had a decent relationship. After the fight, things got better but sometimes they still had awkward moments.

“Sooo, I’m going in” “Yeah yeah go ahead”

Mickey knew Lip was going through a hard time. Not only had he shared with Ian all that was pestering him, but Mickey could just see it. Lip’s cocky attitude and know-it-all fuckery were toned down and he was often quieter, observant. The years of the college boy in the Ivy?... What was it?.. Ivory? Ivory Tower were long gone and Lip was back to being full south side trying to make ends meet.

Mickey entered the house and couldn’t find anyone inside. The kitchen was still a mess and it seemed like Lip attempted to work on the pipes while still trying to paint and do touch-ups around the first floor. He picked up the stuff Ian had asked for and since no one was there he made his way back to the door. He heard Lip on the phone trying to get a quote for the repairs so he just waved and kept walking.

As Mickey drove back to the apartment he couldn’t get the image of Lip with his head in his hands sitting on the porch. He was alone since Tami and Fred were still at her dad’s and he looked plain miserable. He remembered the brilliant guy that tutored Ian when he wanted to go to West Point. The one with the bright future when all the other Gallagher siblings seemed screwed for life. The one that acted like a punk but always gave his all for his family.

Family. He shouldn’t give a fuck but Mickey feels restless.  

He knew that if Ian offered him the money he wouldn’t accept it, even miserable Phillip was too fucking proud for that. Ian had told Mickey that he offered his share of the house if it sold and Lip had said no.

As Mickey entered the new apartment he didn’t feel like he could sit down. He walked around, cleaned up, turned the TV on trying to occupy his mind. Instead, he thought about Fred, about Tami, about Liam. His mind took him to think about Yevgeny and all the scams they did to put food on the table at the Milkovich house.

He went back to the bedroom rushing. He entered the walk-in closet and stretched to find a dark blue carton box. He grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down an amount of money and an “I O U” below it. Here he was, again. This time he would tell Ian...eventually.

Last time had been too complicated. There were so many little things that Mickey had almost lost track of where all the money had gone. Liam’s new graphing calculator, Franny’s after-school clubs, Tami’s last bill from the hospital, Carl’s required duty belt, the anniversary party.

He picked up his phone and dialed one of his contacts. “Hey, I have a job for you…”

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Lip was coming back home from making deliveries and upon opening the door he was faced with 2 guys cleaning up debris from the floor.

“Who the fuck are you?” he said startled. The 2 men looked at Lip and started speaking Spanish explaining something Lip couldn’t understand. Finally, they pointed at the water heater and one of them opened the kitchen faucet. As warm water started coming out a confused expression grew on Lip’s face. The men finished up cleaning and waved goodbye to Lip. He was dumbstruck.

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Ian and Mickey were making dinner when Ian’s phone rang. Mickey could only hear Ian’s responses to the call but he automatically knew who was calling.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about...They were just randomly inside the house?... I would have told you asshole!... Maybe Debbie?”

As Ian continued his conversation, Mickey kept chopping the beloved tomatoes from the garden.

“That’s awesome though, do you guys need help moving Tami and Fred back in? Ok, let me know what you find out. Bye.”

“Lip says someone came to fix the pipes and reconnected the gas so they finally have hot water.”

“Mhm,” Mickey was trying his hardest to avoid meeting his husband's eyes. He could lie his way from any situation but he couldn’t, for the life of him, lie to Ian.

Ian eyed him suspiciously “Do you know anything about this?”

Mickey ignored him but Ian knew something was up. He kept probing him until he broke.

“You can’t say anything to him Red” “Why?” “Because he would be embarrassed and would try to pay us back. You had offered him money before and he refused but he needed help Ian.” “Why didn’t you tell ME anything then?” “Cause you couldn’t have kept the secret and Lip would have stopped us!”

Ian knew he had a point...“Where did you get the money?” he asked next. “...” “Mickey…” “The honeymoon fund man. I’m sorry I know we promised to talk to one another and have a mutual understanding and all that shit but Ian...family is family” He said harshly. After a moment Ian smiled and kissed him sweetly. “Family is family” he repeated grinning.

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They hosted the next family dinner at the Gallagher house. As the kids played games and Debbie and Ian helped Tami to set the table Lip approached Mickey giving him a beer.

The two men kept looking at the kids and relaxed in comfortable silence. “I’m glad you’re part of our family Mickey”

Mickey nodded without facing him and without saying a word cheered his beer to Lip’s pop. 

He was too.

[whumpinggrounds]

What You Wanted

things are looking up for mara! and for isabella! ...right?

tagging @killtheprotagonist and @shapeshiftersandfire

TW: pet whump, lady whump, reluctant whumper, victim blaming, aftermath of conditioning

Mara’s in a good mood – a great mood, even. She comes through the door fast, mumbling rap lyrics under her breath, and before she even looks up, some of the tension has gone out of Isabella’s shoulders. Lately, Mara’s been working late. She’s been on edge, exhausted, snapping a little bit sometimes, not wanting to cuddle with Isabella or ever really touch her. That’s fine, Isabella tells herself, even as the loneliness makes her lip tremble. Mara’s important, Mara’s busy, Mara’s working very, very hard. Isabella doesn’t mind that. She doesn’t. Besides, the worst part isn’t the lack of touch or the lack of conversation or even the way Mara’s low-grade irritation makes Isabella’s skin crawl.

The worst part is that Mara’s smoking cigarettes. She comes home smelling like smoke, sometimes even lights up furtively by the window. She gets this defiant look on her face, like she’s almost daring Isabella to say something about – which Isabella would never, ever do! Never! She’s good!

But the sight, the smell, the fear of those cigarettes makes Isabella’s scar ache, makes her skin crawl, makes her sit at the table and stare down at her food and not want to eat a bite. That’s okay, because Mara’s usually so distracted, she hardly notices.

This might be the end of it, though. This might be the end. Tonight, when Mara arrived home from work, she had pulled Isabella down on the couch next to her, slung an arm around her pet’s shoulders, and showed her the video, the reason for her good humor. In it, a middle-aged woman with a high ponytail explains how she thinks a trained pet could help her son. The interview footage is cut with helpful diagrams, graphs, and, most compelling of all, shots of Isabella signing with the eight-year-old.

Eagerly, Isabella watches the footage, tentative smile on her lips. Eight-year-old Raffi had been the first new person Isabella had ever met, besides handlers and Mara. She’d like meeting him, signing with him. She appreciates the reminder of their brief conversation.

Beside her, Mara’s grinning wide. “You’re a star,” Mara tells her warmly, jostling Isabella’s shoulders. “I mean – this stuff is perfect. It’s not an ad, yet. It probably won’t ever be, just like, an informational release for interested parties, but damn.” Mara shakes her head. “The company is thinking about holding a conference and…” she trails off, sounding just the tiniest bit unsure. “I mean…I mean, it’s still WRU, and they’re awful. But, man, I don’t know.” She strokes the side of her laptop almost fondly as the video starts up again, its happy music tinkling in Isabella’s ears. “This program…this could really help people, you know?”

She looks to Isabella as if for guidance, and her pet props up a smile on her lips. “I’m sure your program will help people, Mara.”

“Obviously, I think the whole pet industry is, like, fucked.” Mara waves a hand. “And so many people do horrible things to their pets. But this…I don’t know. This feels a little different. No one will be hurt by it, at least.”

Isabella nods along like a bobbing daisy. “No one will be hurt,” she repeats earnestly.

“And it’s, I mean.” Mara makes a wry face to herself. “I’m getting…I mean, the bonuses. At first, they weren’t really going to give me anything because hey – free pet. But I pointed out, I mean – you’re a part of the program, so it’s not like, you know, a real-real pet. And the whole cosmetic defect thing.” Mara tips her head, as if she’s thinking about it, and Isabella hunches her shoulders as if that will hide her from Mara’s thoughts. “Point is – I’m making…I’m going to be making a ton of money, Isabella. Like, crazy money.”

“Congratulations, Mara!”

“Thanks! And, I mean, I’m going to use it for rescue and lib stuff, obviously. I’ll pay off some of my own things, and then I just need to figure out how to like, hide the paper trail so it isn’t linked back to me. But after that, I’m definitely going to use a lot of it for good. So that…that means something, don’t you think?”

“Of course it does, Mara.”

Isabella can’t help feeling stupid, useless, like an empty-headed pet, repeating all these useless agreements. Her owner doesn’t call her on it, doesn’t roll her eyes at Isabella’s silly platitudes. Her owner smiles indulgently at her, and Isabella’s heart swells. Mara is so tolerant of her. So, so good to her dumb little pet.

“Oh, and I, uh, got you something.” Mara smiles at Isabella, biting her lip. “Just…if you do end up coming with me to things, and you’re at WRU…I know you don’t really leave the apartment, but…”

She stretches out her hand. There’s a little silver tag dangling from it. One side says Isabella, and the other says Mara’s name and number. Isabella’s mouth opens, closes, and then she smiles. She’s Mara’s. Mara wants to label Isabella as hers.

“Here, let me put it on.”

When the collar drops off, Isabella’s breath catches. Her hands come up to hang nervously around her throat, not liking the feeling of her own bare skin. Mara rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “S’okay, Isabella. I’ll put it back on, I promise.”

True to her word, Mara buckles the collar back around Isabella’s neck, and the boxgirl feels some of the tension leave her body. The little ring that holds the tag is cold against her skin, but it’ll warm soon. “Thank you, Mara.”

“Of course. It looks good.” Mara smiles at her, and Isabella glows. Her owner looks from her pet beside her to her pet on the screen. “This is…this is good, yeah?”

“Yes, Mara.”

“We’re doing good, aren’t we?”

Isabella nods eagerly. “Yes, I think we are.”

Now Isabella’s owner pauses for the longest stretch yet. Her eyes stay fixed on the screen, where the mother’s muted mouth is explaining yet again the trials of living with an autistic child. Somewhere in the back of Isabella’s mind, that makes her want to bare her teeth. When Mara speaks again, it takes her by surprise. “You know…in a weird way, isn’t this what you always wanted to do?”

Isabella glances up, unable to pretend anything other than surprise, and wants to hide from Mara’s earnest, searching eyes. The happiness in the boxie’s chest is shifting fast, slipping into something else, something a little more uncomfortable.

“Help people, I mean. That’s what you always wanted. And at least this way, you can still do that.”

“I can,” Isabella agrees softly, too softly to be heard, too softly to really mean it. In her head, a dozen handlers are screaming at her that she signed up for this, she signed up for this, she signed up for this. On the worst days, the final few Romantic days, they said it to her over and over, like a chant. That she wanted this, she loved this, she signed up for this.

Now Mara, too. What she wanted. Isabella tries to think about it, already feeling her stomach roiling, her head starting to ache. Was this it?

[vln-vibes]

Unwanted, Unreliable, Unstoppable

Yeah so this thing is crazy long so I’m dividing it into three parts. Anyways this is very self indulgent but I hope you like the content.

Summary: They were tired, they were so so tired. This fight has been going on long enough, this war was getting harder and harder to fight as the years went on but no one ever helped; Not the citizens of Paris, not the French government and certainly not the Justice League. But what is they received help from a man that was practically a myth himself; the Batman.  Is this exactly what the Miraculous Team needs or will this lead to their falling from grace?

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“I’m so tired of this!” Ladybug scratched at her head feverishly. Currently she was standing at the second most top of the Eiffel Tower with her team: Chat Noir, Ryuuko and Viperion.

“I know m’lady” Chat sighed, letting his cheerful mask take a break as he stood next to her, leaning into the railings.

“Those— Those assholes that call themselves the Justice League just keep ignoring us; it's like they just don’t give a shit about us” Viperion rolled his eyes. They had tried, time and time again, to get help from older, more experienced heroes with their situation in Paris; they were fucking teenagers thrust into an adult’s war. One they didn’t even care for anymore.

“They don’t care for Paris… Why should we?” Ryuuko spoke up, cold fury clear in her eyes. “If they cannot find the need to handle the Paris situation themselves then why must we be the ones to? No one even appreciates out efforts, its like they just want us to have everything handled”

It was true.

At first the Parisians praised the Dynamic Duo, Ladybug and Chat Noir, for stepping up and saving the city from the terrifying Akumas they had no way of handling. They even got the heroes to help out with things not in their jurisdiction; suddenly any crime, as minor or major as it could get, required their attention, any fire could not be handled by the fire department alone, schools needed the heroes to make guest appearances, they were wanted in television interviews, everyone needed to know everything about them. It was fine, for a while, they didn’t mind helping out.

Then Heroes’ Day happened.

Suddenly they were pathetic.

If they were supposed to be so strong then how come other heroes had to come to help? It had never occurred to them that they were chosen by Ladybug and Chat Noir, all they knew was that the duo was not as strong as they once believed.

After all it was just one criminal,

How hard could it be?

Sometimes, Ladybug wishes, she had just let Alya keep the stupid earrings. She was sure the girl would have taken them immediately at the time but, given her brashness and temperamental nature, she would have already lost to Hawkmoth.

Plus she didn’t blame the small kwami or even Master Fu all that much: She resented the man but still respected him very much and knew he went through the same thing as she did at an even younger age with absolutely no way out. She was aware that if she truly wanted to all she could do was just give the earrings to someone else or even hand them over. But Ladybug was stubborn and the earrings were her’s now, just like the ring was Chat’s, the choker was Ryuuko’s and the bangle was Viperion’s.

That didn’t mean this battle was theirs to fight.

“... Why don’t we leave?” Viperion asked, disturbing their silence. The trio looked at him curiously, as though he broke an unspoken rule.

“Why would we?” Ladybug responded, knowing fully well that Viperion didn’t tend to speak up unless he was certain of his words.

“Because they’re running us dry, this city is killing us” Viperion raised his voice, aware that they could already, “Adrien and Kagami are living shitty home lives with abusive assholes that want to call themselves parents. Mari, you’re being burdened with too much responsibility by that bitch Bustier and that class full of sheep! I hate seeing you all kill yourselves for people that will never appreciate it because they think they’re above it!”

At the end of his rant Viperion’s eyes were nearly glowing, his breathing a bit more rough than normal, looking away from his teammates knowing he stepped too far. “Sorry, but I don’t want my friends to die on me when I can do something to stop it”

Ryuuko, Chat Noir and Ladybug understood where he was coming from but it was like a slap on the face, a reminder of what civilian life was like for them. Ryuuko could feel the sting coming from her leg, where mother had hit with her shinai after failing to be in proper form. Chat Noir still felt the ache of having to do photoshoots all day and then staying up at night to have to do his make-up work; not that his father cared with his disregard of child labor laws. Ladybug still had some redness from bruises Alya had caused by tripping her on her way to class.

“... Okay so these are the sad gang hours” the group turned back seeing Roter Fochs land, Roi Singe and Pegasus landing behind them. The Parisians were really only aware of ‘The Core Four’ as they’d rather have some aces up their sleeves; not that the three were ready to confront the Parisian backlash just yet. They didn’t want to deal with anymore bullshit than they had to in their civilian lives.

“Is everything alright? Or is it just Life™?” Roi Singe asked, leaning onto his bo-staff next to Viperion.

“It takes 60 euroes to go to therapy but no money to say it just be like that sometimes” Roter Fochs shrugged, much to the dismay of Viperion, Roi Singe and Pegasus.

“Can you please stop joking about your mental health” Pegasus found himself groaning. A small hovering screen appeared next to him, a cowboy hat firmly attached to the top with an antenna sticking out.

“Yes studies show that LGBT youth have a higher percentage to suffer from depression, some even to the point that they𑁋”

“Thanks for the concern CowBot but, really, I’m fine; let me have my fun” Roter softly tapped the little robot. It was nice having people, well sentient beings, still concerned with his well being.

Suddenly the group tensed, their artificial ears and enhanced senses picking up a light clink, the sound of something quickly winding up followed. Two male figures landed in front of them, quickly surrounded by the Parisians. The taller one of the two quipped:

“Well aren’t you a merry bunch”

“Who are you and why are you here?” Chat Noir kept an icy cold edge to his voice, emulating how his father would talk to employees that weren’t Natalie.

“They’re not Akumas, no magic radiating off of them” Ladybug analyzed, looking closely at the duo but she couldn’t recognize them at all. The male that had spoken had a lean and relatively tall body, he couldn’t be more than four years older than her team, so around his late teens early twenties. He had long raven hair, his bangs framing his face perfectly, even in the moonlight she could tell he had a pale complexion though the black domino mask he sported helped hide most of it and his eyes. His uniform wasn’t one she recognized from any superhero from the League; black kevlar, if she had to guess, made up nearly the entirety of his suit, from his boots, pants and even gauntlets, heck she wouldn’t be surprised if his cape was bulletproof. One of the only things to bring color was his crimson chest piece, with two belts across it holding up a golden bird symbol, the same one on his canary utility belt.

“Tt, we just came here to talk” the smaller male scoffed, his posture not looking any more tense or relaxed, just attentive. His build was also lean like his taller partner though she could tell his body would be able to build more muscles with his broader shoulders. She assumed they were around the same age, his jawline defined but not to the same extent an adult’s would be. His hair seemed almost darker than that of his partner’s and was slicked back though maintaining most of its volume, a naturally tan skin was found beneath a green domino mask, much like his companion’s. His uniform was definitely more colorful, almost as if he was meant to garner attention(and boy wasn’t that concerning); black seemed to be the main color in his suit with the outer cape, pants and sleeves being that color, ruby red tunic that went beyond his belt with dandelion accents on its edges and a golden R over his heart, pine boots and gauntlets matching the shade of his mask with dandelion yellow covering the inside of his cape and hood as well as his own utility belt.

She had no clue who they were.

“And why should we trust you?”

“Because we don’t like the Justice League any more than you do”

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One Week Ago

“Hey B, we found something interesting while reading the League’s data” Barbara Gordon’s voice echoed in the BatCave. Currently she and Tim were doing the weekly check-in on the League, something those heroes never seemed to notice. Not that they were surprised.

“What did you find?” Bruce asked, telling Duke and Damian to take a break from combat training while he did.

“There’s an alarming amount of distress calls from France, specifically Paris, that the League has been either ignoring or not receiving” Tim showed him the graph of all the history, going back at least three years closer. It was small at first, once every two months at the beginning, once a month when the second year began, every two weeks bordering on weekly near the end of it, by the start of the third it was daily until some time three months ago they just stopped.

Well wasn’t that cause for concern?

“Can we get any audio of the calls?” Bruce’s detective side coming up as Barbara was able to bring up a few that hadn’t been automatically deleted by the Justice League’s system. The first one was the very first from three years ago, a video call.

“Uh hello!” the girl on the video said awkwardly, clearly nervous but determined to get her message out, “My name is Ladybug”

Her costume looked like it was simply made by spandex, a rather plain design of red with black spots around, a domino mask with open lenses was the only thing really concealing her identity.

“Paris has a supervillain, his name is Hawkmoth and he feeds off of negative emotions. His power can turn anyone into his enslaved champion and we- my partner and I are the only ones really fighting this. I- I know you’re all really busy saving the world and all that but- but we’re just kids! We have no experience and well, we were hoping you can send someone to help? We’ve only confronted him three times now but well, we were just pushed into this”

Bruce could feel his blood growing cold, she couldn’t have been older than thirteen when this was recorded. He knew no Leaguers went on missions to Paris for the past five years… He told them to play the next video, from two years ago.

“Hello Justice League” Ladybug still wore her simple spandex though now standing tall next to a boy with a black cat leather outfit. Behind them was a girl with a bee themed outfit, a girl with a fox themed outfit and a boy with a turtle theme.

“We just came out of this Heroes Day disaster”

“No thanks to their help” the bee girl snapped before looking away.

“Look, Hawkmoth is getting more and more dangerous. He was able to transform half of Paris into his minions, they took over Paris and nearly won”

“What is it going to take you for you guys to finally help?” the cat boy growled much to the surprise of the others.

“Chat Noir!”

“Oh please we can totally handle Hawkmoth without them; you two should be enough already. With us three helping you, defeating him should be easy, power of teamwork and all that” the fox girl waved off, much to the surprise of the turtle.

“Rena did you seriously not remember what just happened. We were compromised, we nearly let Paris fall. We’re not trained for this, not even LB and Chat, and they’ve been doing this for the past year”

“Whatever”

“What was the last transmission?” Bruce found himself asking as the cave suddenly grew silent, all eyes on the monitor as their last transmission played.

“Why are we even bothering with this?” a new male voice asked, the video was shaky before finally pointing at the Parisian streets. If you could even call what was essentially a river of water, reaching to the top of most rooftops streets anymore. Items were floating about, bodies littered around them.

“They’ll never listen, they never did” another female voice agreed, they assumed it was the girl at the corner of the screen, looking down on the streets in what could be described as pity.

“I know” Ladybug’s voice sighed from behind the camera. “But they should at least see the consequences of their actions”

“If they even bother watching these, I wouldn’t be surprised if they just delete these as soon as we send them” Chat Noir entered the screen, eyes cold and calculating.

“Paris should be thankful that Lucky Charm is able to bring them back” the male with the snake themed outfit shook his head. “This is probably the 1,000 time most of Paris died with an akuma, second with Syren”

“Super lucky” the dragon female rolled her eyes “It’s not even worth trying to save citizens since all they do is cretique us”

“And the officers; Apparently we should be able to deal with city-destroying being and protect the people at the same time while officers just stand behind the lines waiting for us to do both” Chat Noir hissed

“What's done is done. This will be our last call for the Justice League; I hope you’re all happy, knowing that you’ve forced children to grow up and fight in a man’s war. Bug Out”

“There are no records of these videos even being played, or even of these events happening as far as Parisian government records say. But there’s clearly a lot of cover up going on, most of Paris’ emergency broadcasting doesn’t make it out of its borders, heavy encouragement of tourism even though there have been complaints by the people about… akumas?” Tim reported as soon as the video finished playing.

“There’s even records of a city-funded statue being made for Ladybug and Chat Noir yet no indication of where it is or what its for” Barbara continued “This blog keeps coming up, it used to be called the Ladyblog before it switched to Fox Tea. Look at these videos”

The screens were suddenly filled with shots of these Akuma; one that froze the city over, one who controlled the weather, one who began dropping adults from the sky, Syren, Heroes’ Day… All of them had to be handled by scared children. 

“These look too real to be edited” Duke said in awe. He was very aware of his children all surrounding the screens, looking at the countless destruction of one of the major cities in the world.

And none of them had ever heard of them or these children who were forced to deal with it.

Ones who seeked out help and were never given the time of day.

“Red Robin, Robin” his two sons standing in attention “I want you to investigate the matter and offer our help; convince them that we’re on their side on not aligned with the League”

“We’re on it, Batman”

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“So you just want us to believe you found out about us and suddenly want to help?” Roter Fochs looked at the duo skeptically. 

“We wish to assist you with this whole… situation. No one has heard of Akumas or of Parisian heroes before, we concluded that it may be the government attempting to keep tourism up” the shorter male, Robin, they later learned, spoke up while keeping his hands in the air.

“Though that doesn’t excuse the League, who we know you personally sent distress messages” Red Robin echoed the message “We understand the incompetence of the League better than anyone else. Did you know they never bothered to even open most of those messages?”

Red Robin was surprised by the sudden animalistic growling coming from the group, some of their eyes glowing while others looked disappointed.

Ladybug looked hurt.

“Who do you work for?” Ryuuko  asked, curious but not letting her sword lower from its position.

“We’re Robin and Red Robin”

“Like the food chain?”

“.... Yes. Anyway we’re vigilantes sanctioned in Gotham, New Jersey in the United States; we’re both proteges of the Batman” Red Robin held back the need to roll his eyes at the monkey boy’s statement.

“Never heard of him” the French heroes turned to each other, trying to see if the name rang any bells.

“According to the internet the Batman is almost a folklore for Gotham; people claim to see him and his array of birds and bats but none could ever get clear photos” CowBot replied after a quick search.

“If the League never saw our messages then how do you know about them?” Chat Noir stared right at them, as though he’d know they were lying, which he couldn’t but Roter Fochs could and would.

“Because we’re better than the League” Robin said with the same certainty one would say the grass was green.

“Why should we believe you?” Ladybug asked skeptically, if they were so good then why didn’t they handle what the League wouldn’t? Why didn’t they just try to take over the Hawkmoth situation without their input? Why didn’t they just take down the League by themselves?

“You shouldn’t, “ Robin shrugged once more “But we’ll actually help where the League wouldn’t”

Ladybug stole a look from Chat Noir, both turning to Roter Fochs, who shook his head softly indicating the duo wasn’t lying.

“If you really want us to talk then give us the coordinates to meet with the Batman” Ladybug demanded, Robin looked outraged at the implication while Red Robin nodded.

“Alright, but how will you know if we’re lying to you?” he asked curiously, typing something in his communicator, the center of his utility belt, before handing it over to her.

“Trust me, we know when you’re lying plus we’d know when we get there” Viperion smirked, “Also you can stand down now Bunnix, MultiMouse”

The duo were not surprised to see two figures standing behind them, one male with a mouse theme and rope wrapped around his hands, and a petite girl with a bunny theme and a sharp looking umbrella pointing straight at their backs. They were just surprised that they hadn't sensed them before.

“Did you get those coordinates, Pegasus?” 

“Yes Ladybug, waiting for your signal”

“Well then birdies, we better hope you weren’t lying or you’ll find Hawkmoth won’t be your biggest problem”

“Voyage!”

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“Why don’t you guys like the League?” 

The meeting between the Bats and Team Miraculous had gone much better than any of them had expected; it had certainly helped when they found out one of their own, Agent A as they called him, was once a wielder.

They had both been surprised by the amount of members each team had: The Bats had expected Ladybug, Chat Noir, Ryuuko and Viperion; Roter Fochs, Pegasus, Roi Singe, Bunnix and MultiMouse had been a surprise.

Meanwhile Team Miraculous had only heard of whispers of Batman and many Robins, even a theory on a bat girl of sorts from their brief research; having Batman, Robin (V), Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Signal, Batgirl, Batwoman, and Black Bat not to mention Oracle and Agent A; they had almost thought it was an ambush.

They supposed they each knew how to keep certain secrets tight.

“The Justice League, though still consisting of some of the most powerful people in this Earth, are too high and mighty; none of them really consider the consequences of their actions and are too reliant on their powers to be able to resolve all their problems. None of them have any contingency plans if their enemies find out their weaknesses and exploit them. Not a single member is a ‘normal human’”

He pulled up a hologram in the middle of the meeting table, every person who's worked with  Justice League showing up, each showing their array of powers and abilities before showing their membership status.

Batman, Green Arrow, Speedy, Robin, Artemis; Non-Members

Two Green Lanterns, Captain Marvel, Black Canary, Bumblebee, Rocket, the Atom, Blue Beetle (II), Superboy; Reserve members with clearance.

“That does seem pretty discriminatory” Viperion hummed as he thought of the people on the list, those on the Non-member list had no power or enhancement at all while those on the reserve, with the exception of Captain Marvel and Superboy, had powers or suits but the vulnerability of humans.

They weren’t considered strong enough, or maybe even reliable enough.

“We’d probably be considered in the same capacity as a Green Lantern” Pegasus concluded “Take away their ring and their powers go away”

“Which brings us to the next question” Batgirl chimed cheerfully “What is it exactly that you’re facing off against?”

“The Miraculous are ancient artifacts that lend you the powers of certain godlings named Kwami. Kwamis are the essence of concepts and ideas: The Ladybug who represents Luck and Creation, the Black Cat who represents Misfortune and Destruction and Horse who represents Transportation and Innovation are just some examples” Ryuuko explained for them

“Hawkmoth is in possession of the Butterfly Miraculous of Metamorphosis and Desire along with the Peacock of Emotion and Will” Ladybug paused briefly as she saw the look of surprise on Agent A’s face, wondering if she’d feel that way if she found out Tikki was being used for evil in the future. “Both were thought to be missing, possibly destroyed, when the last Master of the Order was able to salvage them from the attack to the Temple of Miracles. He was only a child when the Temple was attacked, thus he was able to escape without being detected by the enemy”

“If I remember correctly,” Chat Noir interrupted “I believe Master Fu said their name was “The Shadows” or I think he said they now go by𑁋”

“The League of Shadows” Nightwing softly added, the air tensing immediately.

“You know of them?” MultiMouse was weary considering the Shadows were very keen on keeping to, well, shadows. That had to mean that the Bats had confronted them.

“Intimately so” Batman growled out.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bunnix’s brows furrowed underneath her mask, feeling as though they wouldn’t like the answer.

“The Shadows have been a pain in Gotham’s ass in the past” Batgirl explained before turning to Batman “Especially since the Demon’s Head was interested in having Batman as a Son-in Law, though his daughter is sometimes an ally”

“Batgirl!” Red Robin admonished

“Don’t forget the little demon over here” Red Hood joked, missing the look of shock in the Parisian heroes.

“Or the fact that it sometimes seems like he wants to get on Red Robin’s dick and have his babies”

“Batgirl, Red Hood that’s enough” Batwoman sternly looked at the duo.

“You’re saying Robin is related to the Shadows” the Parisian heroes in the Reserve Team looked at them suspiciously while the Core Four just patiently waited to see what the Bats would say.

“That’s in the past” Nightwing steely stated “He was born into that lifestyle, but his mother let him chose to leave and live a different life”

“We had no choice of who our parents were” Black Bat reinforced, the team taking a mental note that she was once a shadow as well.

“Noted” Chat Noir said cooly “Though you must understand our reluctance when hearing the Shadows; like we said the Shadows destroyed the temple that was meant to safeguard the Miraculous and killed off every Guardian in the process”

“It would be foolish of us to not be on guard when hearing of them being so close to us again” Ryuuko explained “Though we will give the benefit of the doubt”

And so was the beginning of their partnership.

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“You’re all skilled fighters for not having any proper training” Oracle commended, looking at the statistics of the spars they all had, by far the Core Four had the strongest stats but it wasn’t because of the others’ lack of skill.

“Thank you, Oracle” Ryuuko bowed after finishing her match with Robin, an intense sword fight having just finished. If she had truly wanted to she could have ended it by cutting Robin’s katana but she found it both dishonorable and the easy way out considering they were testing skill sets. On the other side of the room was Red Robin and Roi Singe’s fight, bo-staff against bo-staff, being monitored by Black Bat.

“Oh kwami” Ladybug whispered as she and Chat Noir were called for the next match… against Batman and Batwoman.

“This is where we die Noir”

“It’s been an honor m’lady”

The fight had been entertaining, each side coming in with an array of attacks. At first the Bats had played offensive with the Miraculous duo playing defensive, dodging Batarangs and all their little gadgets. The Bats hadn’t expected just how durable the simple looking yo-yo and staff would be or any of its features.

At some point there had been a flash bomb, Chat Noir blocking it from Ladybug and getting temporarily blinded, Batwoman had planned on attacking while he was disoriented however the attack amplified his enhanced hearing, extending his staff and tripping her in the process.

In the end the Bats had won but it had been a close victory considering the Miraculous Team had not bothered to use their special abilities during any of the fights.

As they were taking a breather, resting and getting drinks, Robin spoke up.

“How are you allowing your city to step all over you?” Team Miraculous looked at him briskly before Red Hood, of all people, continued for him.

“We’ve seen the reports and the Parisian news, they’re relying on your team of four, considering they aren’t aware of the others, to be there to solve all their problems”

“It’s okay for your people to put so much trust in you but it's gotten to the point where they expect it of you” Robin concluded.

“I’ve tried telling them” Viperion sighed, facing his group “We really should be leaving Paris to handle their own problems, we’re busy enough in civilian life and akuma fights as it is”

“How do you suppose we do that when we already face scrutiny for not dealing with Akumas fast enough?” Chat Noir asked, his tail flickering behind him.

“You could always stop patrolling in broad daylight if you don’t want to leave the city altogether” Red Robin suggested, “Hiding in the night is easier to avoid any authority or anyone trying to get interviews. Plus this way it's less predictable where you’ll be certain hours of the day”

“He does make a good point” Ladybug said, mostly to herself, before nodding “I think it's a good idea”

“You heard her team,” Chat Noir turned to face the others “All for stopping daylight patrol?”

All of them nodded in agreement, the beginning of a long list of necessary changes in their lives.

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“My father is planning a press conference to talk about his ‘concerns’ with the lack of your appearances” Chloe rolled her eyes. A year ago, after the Heroes’ Day Disaster, she and Carapace had chosen to stand down while Rena was ultimately retired. She’d found out about Adrien when she went for a visit only for him to jump in through the window.

It was awkward between the two of them before they called for Ladybug.

She gave her neutral face of disappointment first before making a plan.

They were all aware that Lila must have been the one to start the disaster, being Volpina was the only explanation, as Ladybug confessed that Lila had a vendetta against her. Chloe also figured she must have been lying, something she had already suspected before, about being in another country considering Hawkmoth’s attacks only stayed in Paris.

Due to Chloe’s secret identity being out in the open they realized Hawkmoth wouldn’t be above targeting her family again. Thus Chloe became Ladybug’s spy.

Meanwhile in civilian life Nino was getting tired of Alya and Lila’s antics, especially the ones against his bros Adrien and Marinette. Well more against Marinette and more sexual harassment/getting together with Adrien. That’s not even touching on their newest content on the blog which was just criticizing the Miraculous Team for all their weaknesses and shortcomings, in the guise of offering “suggestions” on how to get better. 

They thought it’d be good to have an inside man, someone who could warn them of anything Lila and Alya might come up to.

They were both the secret members of Team Miraculous.

“Holy shit are you serious?” Nino exclaimed in Chloe’s room. They’d all come in secretly and by different entries to meet up in case certain nosy classmates had spotted them.

“Yep, I may or may not have threatened my father with a lawsuit against his violation of child labor laws and me not receiving my paychecks” Adrien said excitedly.

Chat Noir had made an off-hand comment on how his father had tired him out with a packed work schedule. This resulted in prodding from the mother hen known as Nightwing asking for details which ended in Chat Noir confessing that he works for his father’s company, had been homeschooled most of his life and often had a packed schedule full of extracurriculars, including up to around 12-hour work days sometimes. Turns out with that brief information Oracle informed them that his father was violating child labor laws due to the fact that he had worked more than thirty five hours a week since he was fourteen.

“Holy shit” he’d say in awe at the moment “My father is rich though… who knows if this would even go through with his influence”

“No man is truly above the law” Nightwing had given him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, “But… is everything alright in your home life?”

“I- I shouldn’t say anything that reveals my identity… '' the usually chaotic boy said solemnly, his cat ears downcast.

“Chat Noir,” the group turned to Ladybug, the one who’d help introduce her team to the life of masks and magic “Your own safety is much more important than keeping your identity safe. We both know the kind of person your father is… I’d rather you have the best options possible to face this”

“How come you’re so fast to trust us?” Robin asked, surprised but keeping a stern face.

“You do realize that she has the coordinates to this place, right?” Viperion smirked “She’s known who you are for a while and never mentioned anything. We just expect you to return the courtesy”

“That seems about right” Red Robin sighed before taking off his mask, the others of the Bat Clan following suit. Team Miraculous gave Ladybug one last look before dropping their own transformations, some of them looking familiar to the Gothamites.

“Marcus is that you my boy?” Agent A, otherwise known as the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth made his way to MultiMouse who nodded shyly. 

“I actually go by Marc now great-uncle Alfred”

“Wait what, Al has siblings?” Stephanie exclaimed, Jason was whispering for Tim to write it down in The Book.

“Yes, an older half-sister” he said with an impeccable raised brow “I would have never thought you’d follow after my footsteps Marc”

“I guess it does run in the family”

“Adrien Agreste! Like son of the fashion mongul Gabriel and late actress Emellie Grande de Venily?!” Stephanie exclaimed as soon as she focused on the blonde teen.

“Yep” was all he could find himself saying, taking comfort in Marinette’s presence next to him.

“Don’t worry Adrien,” the boy looked up to the slightly intimidating looming figure of Bruce Wayne “We’ll help you deal with your father”

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“Boys” Bruce had said as soon as he entered the living room, where the group had devolved into a video game competition. “Remember tomorrow is your monthly therapy session”

“Already?” Damian groaned, his brothers, with the exception of Dick, looking like they would rather not go.

“Timmy isn’t prepared to face his inner demons” 

“And it seems Timmy hasn’t slept in some time again, hasn’t he?” Luka teased, continuing to run his hand through Tim’s hair, the boy practically purring in response.

“You have a therapist?” Marinette asked Bruce skeptically.

“We’ve all… gone through things growing up. Alfred made me realize that we were all in need of some help”

“And do you umm… talk about your nightly activities?”

“They’re trustworthy and confidential, yes”

“Do you think you could give me their information?”

That’s how Team Miraculous found themselves on the day after another akuma attack, in a private room within Wayne Tower, each waiting their turn to see the doctor.

“You’ve been through alot Luka” the teen was lying on his back, facing the ceiling as the psychologist who worked with Bruce talked. “Losing what you’ve come to accept as your family, watching your friends die, even though you knew you could change the outcome. Doing it over and over again in order to save the city… It's not something anyone could be expected to handle, let alone a child your age”

“I… I know Dr.Quinzel. But I can’t allow myself to feel guilty over everything or even get overly emotional. If Hawkmoth found out it’d be a disaster, especially because Marinette trusted me with the miraculous… the first for her to assign full time as the Guardian…. I can’t let her down” Luka gave her a lost look, one rarely seen on the charming boy before.

“Keeping all of that inside… It could fester up and explode if you’re not careful Luka”

“So you’re telling me that you are perfectly fine with how your life at home is going, Nathaniel? Even after everything we’ve discussed”

“Look I’ve tried telling my parents they were wrong but they just keep saying I’m confused, not to mention think my art is a joke… and maybe they’re right”

“Those are important parts to who you are. Saying that would be like considering yourself a mistake… Do you feel that way Nathaniel?”

“I…”

“I think I have pretty bad taste in girls, though my friends usually call me a himbo for not really thinking things through. Maybe I should think before acting more?”

“I’ve known I was going to become Bunnix ever since I was fourteen, it was always just a matter of when. So when I was finally called to action I was so excited but… I can’t help but wonder if I’m cut out for this”

“My mother has groomed and taught me to be perfect at all I do. It was something ingrained to me since I was a child; It wasn’t until recently that I learned that is impossible to achieve. Why was mother so pertained to me being it?”

“I know I’m the smart guy but I shouldn’t be expected to have all the answers, especially for my classmates who refuse to look at evidence as it is. Seriously, if I had known they would have taken my comment about how dangerous a napkin can be as pure fact then I would have not said anything that day”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m not enough for my grandmother. She’s getting older, she’s starting to forget a lot. I help by telling her things like stories but I’m not sure how long that will last… She’s the only family I have left in Paris, I don’t want to leave my friends or boyfriend behind”

“My father has always been a distant man but ever since my mother… I’m not sure if he even sees me as his son at this point. There are some days I’m treated as nothing more than a trophy boy or a regular employee. I wonder if this would have happened regardless of my mother’s passing”

“I am Ladybug, I am also the last Guardian. But I’m just a teenager! I have a life I want to live outside of Paris… I want to be a designer, start my own brand, find love and have my own family… But Hawkmoth is in the way of all that”

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“Are you sure about this LB?” Nino asked from the terrace of Chloe’s penthouse. They’d been talking strategy when an Akuma attacked, given the chaos displayed by the news via LadyBugOut livestream, they could only assume it was another Volpina attack.

Unfortunately Volpina had a Sentimonster to help, Reality Check. A glorified 3D printer who could temporarily make Volpina’s illusions tangible and real.

It had proven to be a difficult battle, especially since Luka and Adrien had been caught up as civilians and couldn’t help Ryuuko and Ladybug. The others still had to wait for Ladybug to give the signal before they’d consider going out to help in broad daylight lest their hidden cards be revealed too soon.

In the middle of the fight the two heroines had made a strategic retreat, one the Fox Tea blogger did not hesitate to call the coward’s way out. Suddenly the two appeared at Chloe’s along with Roter Fochs. The scarlet hero had taken out two familiar boxes with extremely familiar jewelry inside. 

“I’m certain of it” she said with a determined smile, “Besides this could finally get Hawkmoth and maybe even Alya off your backs if I introduce new heroes; Of course your costumes will have to be different, as will your codenames, but I trust that you’ll know what to do”

“Hello my queen!”

“What’s up dude”

Paris was in uproar when they heard of the new heroes; Abeille and Anselm.

Abeille’s costume was much more armored than that of Queen Bee’s; the whole suit had a honey yellow bodysuit with black armor pieces, her chest piece in the shape of a bee’s face, black elbow length gloves with some honey stripes, thigh high black boots with honey kneepads. Her own mask was different from her former as it changed her eyes to royal blue like Pollen’s while being honey colored with black v shaped lines. The golden gauntlets on top of her gloves would be able to send out small shocks, capable of stunning enemies for small intervals at the time, nowhere near as potent as Venom.

Anselm’s own attire was not so different from Carapace; Anselm still kept the hoodie his predecessor did though beneath it is where the differences began. Anselm wore a pine green helmet, yellow tinted goggles on top of his red eyes, with pale thin daffodile lines going from the top to the bottom of his hood. The hoodie and his undersuit was sacramento green, bordering on black, though the majority of the suit was also armored with pine pieces like the hexagonal chest piece, shoulder, thigh, shin, knee and elbow pads. He also had much thicker gauntlets than Abeille’s along with armored gloves and reinforced sneakers.

Of course, Chloe Bourgeois and Nino Lahiffe were quickly off of the suspect list when the two were spotted separately looking for shelter amongst the Akuma attack during Fox Tea’s livestream.

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“So you’re part of the OG Team huh?” Stephanie asked as she gave a once over to the two newcomers.

“Deep undercover missions, you know how they go” Abeille scoffed, her honey blonde hair swaying along with her five black streaks around it.

“What she said. We couldn’t help as Queen Bee and Carapace anymore, compromised identities, so we helped as civilians before covering our tracks and coming back” Anselm tried to keep back Chloe’s prickly personality.

“Like what?” Cass’ appearance startled the two, though both looked like they were about to draw out their weapons.

“Well I get them intel from what’s happening in the mayor’s office that Max and Markov can’t get out from the computers, daddy is a bit of a pushover and squeals pretty easily”

“While I get intel from Fox Tea’s disastrous dude duo. I’m usually among the first to find out about anything their plotting… though I’ve had to drop that. It was getting too much for me to continue being with Alya so we broke up”

“So you kept dating Cesaire just to gather intel? Doesn’t that seem manipulative?” Duke asked from his seat on the monitor, the two Parisians looked at one another before beginning to laugh.

“Not compared to what those two are capable of”

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“Are you sure about this?”

Currently Viperion, Ladybug and Bunnix were on the Gotham rooftops, shadowing the Bats for the night. The three were honored to be trusted with the responsibility but still felt foreign in the much darker environment, literally and metaphorically.

“It’ll be a good experience” Oracle said in their ears, their comms being synced to those of the Bats “And you won’t be alone, I’ll be here and so will your partners”

Right on cue Robin, Red Robin and Black Bat landed on the same rooftop. The plan was for the six to cover the patrol for the night, the others would be getting rest or doing specialty training with their abilities. It was a surprise for the Miraculous gang when it was revealed that Signal and Red Hood would be joining them as fellow trainees. Alfred and Black Canary, a metahuman who often worked together with Green Arrow in Central City, would be in charge of the training while Bruce also oversaw their progress.

Honestly they hadn’t known what surprised them more: the fact that Batman had metas on his team or that he trusted other heroes with the training of his children.

“It should be a regular night; standard mugging, gang fights and possible robberies should be all that happen tonight”

Of course that was not what happened.

As it turned out Riddler had escaped Arkham, no surprise, and had gone too long without his medication. Edward Nygma was usually a pretty tame man, if a little eccentric with his love of riddles and his brilliant mind.

He decided to hold Gotham Grand Terminal hostage.

Ladybug was decidedly trying not to panic as she saw the very obvious bombs spread across different sections of the terminal. There were too many for them to deactivate in less than three minutes and there were probably more hidden around.

“Riddle me this; What is Joan of Arc made of ?” Ladybug and Robin were the first to arrive at the scene, Viperion and Red Robin being the closest to coming as back up. Robin seemed as confused as she felt but decided to really think about it…

This was so stupid.

“Maid of Orleans” the look Robin gave her, like she just made the most foolish decision of her life, was seen spread across the faces of hostages before Riddler began to laugh.

“Why you are correct, little red” he wiped a tear from his eye “Bats would never think of something so punny like that!”

“Yeah well I’ve had a lot of experience with annoying puns”

“What’s colorful, loud and is a mess to clean up?” Ladybug’s eyes widened as he pressed the big red button on the remote control, Robin bringing Ladybug down and shielding her as the hostages began to scream.

BOOM!

“...Confetti cannons” Ladybug muttered, her whole body covered in the colorful paper pieces with glitter in the mix.

That son of a bitch!

It was April 1st.

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“So what is it that we’ll be doing?” Bunnix asked as Black Bat silently leaped through the Gotham rooftops, camouflaging effortlessly with the shadows unlike her because of the white and baby blue costume she had on.

“You two will be checking up on Red Hood’s sector for the night, Crime Alley” Oracle’s voice responded for her.

“Right, so is this just a standard patrol?”

“Something like that”

Bunnix was admittedly a bit nervous about being with Black Bat, Cass didn’t really talk much and was kinda hot. Bunnix had just dutifully shadowed her, staying as quiet as she could even if she did more parkour than necessary, when they stumbled upon a drug deal. Bunnix was about to go down to smack some people around with her umbrella when Black Bat shook her head.

“One of Red Hood’s men, let’s wait to see the deal go through”

Bunnix wasn’t sure what to think as she watched the deal go down. Weren’t they supposed to be the ones to stop this from happening and not helping them? It was a bit confusing and against her moral code…

“We do this to keep the kids out of the involvement” Oracle seemed to read her mind, explaining their reasoning “Before Red Hood decided to get involved with drug trafficking Crime Alley was full of children who would be taken advantage of by dealers; whether it meant getting them addicted or becoming their messengers and delivery boys. He made it very clear to his ‘allies’ that no child from Crime Alley was getting involved in their plans again or else the deals were off. Those who tried going above him… well they’re no longer around to try and take him down”

Still that did not help ease Alix’s worries as the night continued on. Black Bat came to a sudden stop on top of a warehouse, gesturing for Bunnix to follow behind her, and climbing in through a shattered window. Inside were dozens of wooden crates, each with cameras pointed at them and only one with an open lid. Black Bat walked towards the open crate with ease, going inside and taking out three duffle bags from inside. She placed two on her, criss-crossing each other before handing the other one to a reluctant Bunnix.

The tow then headed to a hidden tunnel underneath one of the empty crates, making their way in a closed (?) Gotham sewer. It didn’t smell as disgusting as Alix imagined it would be, musky at best, though she thought that it may be due to the fact that there was no dirty sewage water there. They walked in relative ease, essentially walking for what had to be at least 15 minutes in numerous twists and turns before reaching a ladder. The two got out, Bunnix recognizing it as part of Crime Alley with how run down the area looked.

Black Bat knocked on a rusting steel door, three times, five, once and then a tap with her palm.

The door opened up, a boy no older than 12 being the ones to greet them.

“Where’s R.H?” he questioned, he looked disappointed but not alarmed, clearly he had met Black Bat before.

“Was busy. This is Bunnix, she’s helping for the night” The boy was clearly unimpressed with her but he closed the door and led them down the long hallway. She noticed the few scattered toys along the way, with some open doors showing mountains of writing supplies and even a little library.

What was this place?

“This is Red Hood’s sanctuary for the kids of Crime Alley” Black Bat whispered next to her “Batgirl and Red Hood are usually the ones to come here though all of us have come at some point.” they entered the large room showing children of all ages, some as young as infants and others looking close to early adulthood. They dropped the duffle bags in front of what she thought was the leader of the pack when Red Hood wasn’t around.

They were filled with non-perishable food, wads of money that will probably be used to provide for the group of 30 or even more for the next month, toys, books and some new clothes.

As the children gathered around, each a little dirtier than Alix remembered ever being as a child, lining up to get a new something that Red Hood got for them she couldn’t help but think;

… Maybe things were never so black and white.

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“I know it may seem frightening, even unnerving, to let go of your control but if you keep your powers bottled up it may prove to be disastrous in the future” Black Canary told the group of teens.

“With abilities bestowed to you like those of the Miraculous are left untrained then it may prove to lead to your downfall” Alfred nodded along to Dinah’s words.

“As capable as Ms.Lance and I are, we have realized that we would need further assistance to properly be able to train each of your abilities”

From one of the Batcave’s entrances they could hear the screech of tires before a slick black car parked next to the Batmobile and Hoodcycle.

“Sorry, we’re late” a red headed woman said as she stepped out of the car, her pale freckled skin slowly gaining a green tint to it as she removed her lab coat and glasses, “Selina here thought she could make a quick steal on our way here”

“Oh c’mon Pam, you know you love the rush as much as I do” a tanned woman laughed, twirling around a golden necklace with one of the biggest rubies they had ever seen in its center.

“Now, ladies; Pam-a-lamb has a class of powered kids to teach” they recognized Dr.Quinzel belatedly as she was missing her glasses and uniform. She was now wearing a much more colorful array of clothes with the consistent theme of red,black, and white. Her skin seemed paler than they remembered and her blonde hair had red tips on one side and blue on the other.

“Hey girls” Barbara came down the elevator at the same time as Stephanie and Cass, seemingly cutting their conversation when she saw the newcomers”

“Babs!” Dr.Quinzel exclaimed, making her way to the other girls after giving a quick kiss to the green skinned woman.

“Well you’re right on time Pam” Dinah sighed, cocking her hip before pointing at the newcomers “These are Dr.Pamela Isley otherwise known as the Gotham Rogue Poison Ivy, Selina Kyle a more vigilante type thief Catwoman, and, of course, you know Dr.Harleen Quinzel or as she prefers to go by Harley Quinn”

“Hey kittens” Selina waved at the group “By the way it's been too long since we girls have hung out; how’s about a Birds of Prey raid? You in?”

“Only if Oracle agrees” 

“Oh pleasepleasepleaseplease!” Stephanie and Harley’s persistent pleading could be heard immediately afterwards. A polite cough interrupted the chaos.

“As enthusiastic as you ladies are for your plans, may I remind you that we have prior plans to care for first. Namely the training”

“Sorry Alfie” Harley said, chastised, “We’ll get out of your hair. C’mon ladies!”

“...So training?” Marc asked

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“What happened to you?” was the first thing Kim laughed out as the duo stepped into the cave, leaving a trail of confetti and glitter behind. Marinette looked back at her team, unimpressed, in their own state of disarray.

Chloe, Max, Marc and Nathaniel seemed to be nursing their own cases of migraines; most likely having pushed the limits of their own new abilities which relied on mental fortitude. Chloe and Jason’s powers were the most similar to Alfred’s which involved manipulating and projecting thoughts and ideas to the people around them or to specific targets. Nathaniel was developing the power to create illusions that only his target would be allowed to see. Marc could create intangible clones of himself but could still project what they were seeing and hearing to him. Max could teleport objects a few meters away from or towards him.

Kagami, Kim, Adrien and Nino seemed the most physically exhausted. Kagami was beginning to have slight control of fire, wind and water but not yet conjuring it; given her slight burn marks, wet clothes and messy hair Marinette would guess that she still hadn’t fully grasped the manipulation aspect outside of being Ryuuko. Kim’s own face was dirty and slightly bruised and matched that of Adrien’s. Kim had begun to use his chaotic energy to make the wackiest things happen but to have the outcome he wanted while Adrien could suck the luck out of people for small intervals lest he want to have the misfortune backlash cling on him. Nino’s was more tame though he now had to focus on two things since he could now use his energy to both heal and to create a shield that encompased his body like armor.

“Oh god you guys look like messes!” Alix laughed along with Luka, the only two that looked fine as they had a fairly tame patrol with Cass and Tim.

“Next time I see Riddler remind me to throw a glitter bomb” Marinette grumbled as she made her way to the showers.

“Not before I stab him with his stupid cane” Damian growled heading for the male showers.

“So how long till Daminette guys?” Adrien asked

“Definitely before the end of the year” Duke concluded, the others not being sure if he used his power or not.

“I’ll take you up on that. I’ll bet we make more money than with Red Scales” Stephanie laughed.

“Red Scales?” Luka asked curiously before the others yelled out.

“Nothing!” 

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“Okay how come no one warned me about that!” Jason yelled as he came out of the Cave’s entrance. The group either gave questioning or amused looks.

“Oh, so you saw that too?” Alix asked, perched from one of the sofa’s armrests.

“You assholes could have given me a heads up” he complained before groaning into a sofa “God, someone get me some bleach”

“What’s Jaybird talking about?” Dick asked, coming in from the kitchen with an array of snacks for the rowdy bunch of teeneagers.

“Oh just Timbers getting some with the big bad snake boi” Stephanie sang, causing Jason to groan and Dick to choke on his own spit.

“More like trying to eat each other’s tongue out” Nathaniel responded in disgust.

“Timmy, no!” were the words the oldest yelled out before heading into the Batcave in record time.

“Anyway,” Stephanie began “It’s time to pay up bitches. Marinette and Cass get the loot”

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“Hmm, so I guess that’s what fresh blood splatters looks like” Chat Noir said in morbid interest.

“Well it's certainly more noticeable than dried blood” Viperion nodded along, watching as Red Robin and Red Hood carried out the interrogation from a one-way mirror. There was a new gang who specialized in child trafficking, most of the kids coming from Crime Alley and therefore not getting reported to the police; luckily they had Red Hood looking out for them.

“Yes, well we are here to see how they carry out their investigation and get used to all the squeamish things” Ladybug gave a calculated look, as though she herself were in there and what she would do to get the information out of the man they captured earlier that night.

“Do you guys think this sort of thing is going too far?” MultiMouse asked curiously, he was beginning to grow a bit uncomfortable with the amount of blood the man had begun to lose. 

“I mean this asshole deserves it” Roter Fochs glared “I don’t think it's too much if it means saving all those kids”

“Standing on the edge of what is seen as a hero𑁋”

BANG

“Let’s you see all the things you can’t from the center” Ryuuko watched as the man was forcibly being held back up by Red Robin after Red Hood slammed his face on the interrogation table. 

“World is not black and white” Black Bat spoke from next to them “Many shades of gray in between; We are in the gray”

Ko-Fi

[mypoisonedvine]

sorry, but I need to bitch about how poorly series perform on tumblr

at least, my series.  I can’t really speak for anyone else.

I know it’s normal and reasonable to get less notes on each chapter of a series, for a number of reasons.  over time, readers from chapter 1 lose interest or simply forget to check up on the series.  new readers who see the series for the first time when you post a later chapter might be intimidated by all the catching up they have to do to understand the new update, might not have the time to go back and go through however many chapters were already posted.  

not to mention that newer chapters have, inherently, had less time to garner notes as their older counterparts so there’s obviously going to be less just because of how time works.  I understand this.

but I’m really fucking worried about ‘seeing red.’

you can see here I’ve charted my two active series.  in a lot of ways they’re very similar.  one is for sebastian stan (in an au), one is for bucky barnes (also in an au).  they’re both long-form, “slow” burn (for me; it’s a medium burn at best compared to the average reader’s repertoire), friends-to-lovers type stories.  

both of them involve a lot of humor, and a lot of yearning, and a subplot about an ex of the reader’s.  both of them will probably end up being 10ish chapters.

as you can see, seeing red started off with a bang, and the first chapter did really well.  bucky and the reader don’t get together until chapter 4, and I was worried at the time that people wouldn’t be willing to get involved in something with no immediate payoff.  the huge response to chapter 1 really inspired me and made me confident in the willingness of readers to wait for the relationship and tension to grow.  boy was I wrong!  anyone with at least one working eyeball can see the huge tank it took immediately after that.  

I mentioned before that the characters get together in chapter 4, so the spike shouldn’t surprise you.  but it really worries me.  did readers choose not to reblog until the smut made my content worthy of promotion and appreciation?  or did new readers hop on at chapter 4, completely missing out on the build-up and relationship-building that I was really proud of for three chapters in a row?  neither is a good feeling for me.

chapter 5 also contained smut but it didn’t do great either.  and now that I killed the tension by getting them together, chapter 6 is a record low and chapter 7 is projected to perform worse than ‘love, theoretically.’

let’s talk about that series for a second.  it performed significantly worse than seeing red, but it performed consistently.  it has a set of loyal readers whose comments I eagerly await with each upload.  yes, there’s a slight decline, but the latest chapter (which, keep in mind, was posted very recently) is already pretty much in line with the others and might even do better than some older chapters given a bit more time to earn notes.  and it doesn’t have any smut so I can’t explain the notes boost easily there.  the smut finally happened in chapter 6 and you’ll notice there isn’t a huge spike, because it’s the same troupe of readers as chapter 1, with a few missing who naturally didn’t keep track of it anymore.

ultimately it makes me feel like I failed with seeing red even though it had such a good response at first.  I would rather create something that’s meaningful to a select few (like love, theoretically seems to be) than something that’s tolerable to the masses (but is seeing red even tolerable if people aren’t staying?).

it makes me want to abandon the series even though I have over 10k written of future material for it.  this wasn’t even meant to be such a long series, it was pretty much designed to end with them getting together, but I fell in love with the relationship that bucky and the reader had, with the friendship that was originally just a tool to stall the smut.  now I regret extending it past that point because it feels like beating a dead horse, even though I actually like the content that has come from it.  clearly the fact that it was originally meant to be shorter is showing through in the writing and all these unplanned extensions feel forced; but even then, that doesn’t explain the huge drop in chapters 2 and 3.  when I look at that graph, all I can imagine is readers seeing that chapter 1 and being like “okay, call me when there’s porn, bye.”  

at least when ‘the kind of girl you take home to mom’ had an embarrassing turnout for the finale (chapter 1: 1221; chapter 3: 494... and people are somehow shocked I haven’t finished the alternate ending yet??), I knew the series was over so the lack of motivation didn’t really do that much.

just to be clear, I’m not going to stop updating seeing red.  I already have enough written for the next chapter and at this point I’m operating purely on love for the people who still enjoy it.  and I really hate making this post.  I’m posting it late at night in hopes that few people will see it because frankly I’m embarrassed by the way this exposes everything I’m insecure about with my writing.  

I’m not trying to hate on readers or beg for notes.  I think at this point, it would be impossible as a reader not to know why reblogs and comments are important.  we keep making the same posts over and over about how people just leave likes and that it’s bad, as if this is an education problem.  it’s not.  they know.  they just don’t care, because they’re getting free content and they don’t have any real incentive to change their behavior.  and obviously I don’t do this for the notes, I don’t do this for attention, I do it because I like it but I’m not going to pretend that outward reaction isn’t valuable to me because of course it is!  of course it matters to think that people like what I write!  I don’t need everyone to like it, but even just one person saying that they love what they read, that it made them happy, that it improved their mood, that it got them off, whatever, it’s really inspiring to me.  if that wasn’t true then I just wouldn’t post this stuff at all and I’d let it rot in my google drive.

the point here really is just to get this off my chest because it has been weighing on me ever since I noticed how hard seeing red was tanking.  I know nobody’s going to read this whole thing but at least writing it I feel less like I’m going crazy because this is just driving me nuts.  because when I look at seeing red I should feel pride or joy but instead there’s dread.  

all I can think is, ‘should I post the next chapter?  am I emotionally ready for it to perform poorly?  how low do the notes have to get before I stop posting?  what did I do wrong?’

and, for the few fans of my on-hiatus series ‘the bruises we give each other,’ poor performance also killed that one and it’s why I haven’t updated in over 6 months.  because I just couldn’t stand to look at it anymore, despite having three more chapters outlined and half-written.  I will finish it someday, I promise.

[themadauthorshatter]

It's been a long time since I made a Toppat!Charles Part.

I'm not really going to add a recap from the last part this time, sorry.

I'll add the links though:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

This part will have elements of this video, which I recommend watching before reading this part:

We start off in the CCC this time, with one a chaos reader biting her nails as Bill Bullet approaches.

"Any problems here?"

"It's the chaos readings, sir," she explains. "Since the Toppats left Earth, we've been seeing a steady increase in chaos around the globe from unpredictable weather patterns to more reports of crime rate."

"What were the numbers before?"

"7.4."

"Now?"

"11.8."

Bullet tears his glasses off as he notices a blinking red spot on a large monitor the workers use as a reference. It's close to the U.S, but Bill hones in on the location to see it's in the middle of the desert, where the government and Toppats once fought. In this location, the mumbers increase from 11.8 to 12.3, so Bill gulps as he takes a step back.

"Orders, sir? Do we need any protocols?"

Bullet is silent and notices one of those line graphs where it goes up or down dependong on the variable over time and sees the name of the person being monitored: H. Stickmin (Suave).

He takes this as he replies, "Not yet. If things get out of hand, you know what button to press."

The entire room gasps at their corporal.

"Sir, you can't mean it. He's one of our most valuable subjects!"

"If things get out of hand, and those numbers keep going up, DO NOT HESITATE TO PUSH THAT DAMN BUTTON! UNDERSTAND!?"

Everyone collectively locks eyes with the woman with readings, who gulps as she nods. "Y-yes, sir."

"Good. Back to work."

Another readings worker speaks up, "But, Sir? What about Henry Stickmin?"

Bill Bullet is silent as he walks out of the room, mentally praying that Henry knows what he's doing.

SPEAKING OF WHICH, let's check in on them😁

Just as Charles fires his gun, Henry darts forward and tackles his friend down, causing the bullet to stray from its path and trim off a bit of Reginald's mustache.

The two scuffle on the ground, only it's much more violent than the sapphire heist because now Heney is focused and Charles has officially snapped. There's punching and shouting from Charles as he and Henry fight over the gun.

"GET BACK!" Henry shouts as he points the gun skyward and toward the ground, shooting both times before Charles headbutts him and smacks him across the brow with the gun.

Henry shakes off the hit and wipes off some blood as he mutters, "Just like training."

Charles and Right meet eyes and Charles prepares to aim again as Right pushes Reginald behind him and transforms his cybernetic hand into a sword.

Henry grabs Charles around the middle and pulls him back down, grabbing his hand and making him waste another bullet.

Terrence winces at the sudden itch in his neck before realizing what's just been triggered and backing away from the group. Ellie, however, SEES this.

"You selfish prick!"

"Not now, Red, just keep your distance."

"How can you leave your son like this!? He needs you!"

Charles and Galeforce hear this and it just makes Charles PISSED.

The former pilot flips Henry onto his back, holds him fown by his hair, and starts using the gun as more of a hammer, holding it by the barrel and trying to hit Henry with where the ammunition goes. I say trying because Henry keeps wriggling and tossing and turning away as much as he can. He eventually catches Charles's hand and pushes it up so Charles basically hits himself and knocks the gun out of Charles's hand.

Charles grabs Henry by the sides of his head, by the hair, and starts slamming him into the ground as hard as he can.

"Why are you all the same!?" He shouts. "When you want me around, it's just so you can use me, but when you're done with me, you'll just throw me away! First the government, then you and Ellie, now THEM!?"

Henry sees stars as he is left hearing Charles breakdown further.

"Is that how you all see me!? Am I just some damned TOOL to you!? ANSWER ME! TELL ME THE TRUTH! WHAT AM I TO YOU!?"

Reg takes advantage of the diversion and grabs a small device that fell from Charles's top hat when Henry first tackled him: a little earpiece that is used to communicate with Burt or anyone else on the Station.

"Boss? Are you alright? I heard gunshots!"

"Sven, please be a dear and send us back now!"

"Sir Reginald? You're alive!"

Charles notices lets go of Henry, and grabs the gun as fast as he can. "NO!"

"Sven, BEAM US UP NOW!" Right shouts.

Charles races toward them as he shoots, hitting Reginald in the leg before both are beamed up to safety.

Charles drops to his knees, shaking as he weepsto himself, "They're gone. They got away... again. They left without me."

Henry crawls over to Charles and sits next to him, slowly taking the gun away from him and placing a hand on his shoulder.

Charles slowly and almost twitchingly turns to Henry, eyes wide with shock and adrenaline. Then they narrow with anger.

"You ruined everything."

It hits Henry almost as hard as the left hook Charles sends into his face.

"You made me lose my job, my home, my helicopter, MY OWN DAMN MIND! AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!"

Charles slashes at Henry with a knife he's hidden in his coat, just cutting the jacket Henry's wearing and giving a small cut on the belly.

Their fight now becomes a game of crazy cat with a knife and mouse with multiverse powers, even though Henry still gets some punches in.

He makes the mistake of getting too close and Charles grabs his hair like before from when he tried to hit Henry with the gun.

They fall and Henry catches Charles hand when he goes for a stab. Even though he's weaker, Charles puts as much weight can on Henry, because he's over bend at this point, and Henry yells as he's pricked by the tip of the knife.

With a jerk, he rips himself free, resulting in some hair loss, and throws Charles off of him.

The two have a stand off and stare down, bloodied, bruised, and tired.

"You're not going to stop, are you?"

Henry shakes his head.

Charles drop his knife and slyly picks the gun bsck up as he gives Henry a tired smile.

"You shouldn't have tried so hard."

Just as Charles raises the gun again, Galeforce shoots. He hits Charles in the hand, well, more like he almost shoots off Charles's thumb and puts a hole in his hand.

Charles screams out and holds his hand as Henry grabs and holds him from behind. He stomps on his foot and tries to run, but stumbles and falls down.

"Don't make me shoot you again, Charlie!" Galeforce shouts as he points his gun at him, tears in his eyes. "Don't make me, son!"

Charles is frozen on the ground, trembling as his breathing goes ragged.

He collapses on the ground, passing out right there.

Henry does what I call the hero-ship-half-dead pick up and picks up Charles to see if he's alright.

Ellie sort of limps in but crouches next to Henry to also check on him.

"Don't worry, you two. He just passed out."

Terrence feels the itch in his neck go away and takes a breath as he gets a little closer.

Galeforce joins Henry and Ellie and brushes some hair out of Charles's face. "Don't worry, Charlie. You're home now."

He turns to Henry and Ellie, and Terrence. "Let's get back to the base."

Henry picks up Charles and carries him to the truck they used; Reg got motion sick in the helicopter and Terrence was dangerously close to the door.

As Ellie loads up with Terrence's help, she stops for a second. "Um, General? What about the Toppat Clan? They both got away."

Galeforce looks up at the station and shakes his head. "We'll worry about them later. For now, let's just take care of Charlie."

Henry climbs in and keeps holding onto his friend, not letting him go when medics tend to them both.

Back with the CCC, the chaos readings decrease from 13.9 to 9.4 and dropping.

Bill sighs before looking back at the line graph he's been reading.

After Henry's escape from the Wall with Ellie, courtesy of Charles, the chaos reads were as low as 5.2. That number was maintained or lowered until the Toppat Clan went into space, which started off the increase of chaos.

With a very dad-like groan, Bill rests his elbows on his knees and holds his face in his hand, contemplating his decision to take Henry into the CCC.

AMD THAT IS PART 9!!!!! CHARLES IS FINALLY HOME, THANK GOODNESS!! I mean, it's not good Right and Reginald got away, but fuck it. WE GOT OUR FAVORITE PILOT BACK! HE'S HOOOOOOOME!

Thank you so much for your patience with this one. The later half of 2020 and beginning of 2021 have not been easy for me mentally, especially with recent events in my personal life, but things will hopefully be changing soon, I'm praying so hard for it to be the case.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this part and thank you, thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart for sticking around and being patient!!

AND HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY!!!!!!

[rudemaidenswrite]

Jelly Beans

Cable x Reader

By: @pusantheamazonian                  not beta'd

Summary: You're in town visiting and helping out at your brother's bar. Your adorableness wins Cable.

Spotting Wade. You walk behind the bar, carrying two items in hand. A large Mason jar filled to the brim and clipboard with paper that you tied a pen to.

“Well boys can I interest you in the guessing jar? Write your name and guess on the paper and at the end of the night I'll say who won.” Smiling at Wade and his new friend. 

“Ooh what are we guessing and winning?” Wade giggles leaning in. Like always Wade demands your entire attention. His friend turns and ignores you. 

“Well to liven things up, you’re guessing how many jelly beans are in this jar. You win the jelly beans and a free drink.” Setting the items down you begin leaning on the counter. Mirroring Wade’s actions.

“I love jelly beans! Gimmie gimmie gimmie!” Wade demands. “Ooohh!” He quickly writes down his guess and nudges his friend. “Cable you want to get in on this?”

“What the fuck do you want?” Griping he turns. Grumpy is as grumpy does. The friend Cable seems to have a permanent scowl plastered to his face. In all honesty he’s not bad looking, the rugged look he’s going for actually complements his scowl.

“A guessing jar! Y/N’s giving away a free drink and jelly beans to the winner.” Wade’s excitement is quickly turning out to be annoying. 

“A guessing jar?” He looks suspiciously at you.

“Yes, though I’ve only had a few people guess. I’m thinking about adding another freebie. I don't know maybe two free drinks instead of one.”

“Don't be giving away the bar.” Weasel shouts from the end. Of course giving away free drinks is what he hears. 

“I'm not.” Yelling back. 

"What kind of jelly beans?" Cable refocuses you with that odd question.

"It's a mixture of Starburst Original Jelly Beans, Jelly Belly Classic and Just Born Jelly Beans." You're surprised that someone actually asked what kind of jelly beans.

“Stop chit chatting, you’re supposed to be helping.” Weasel places a clean towel on your shoulder. Hinting to go wipe up some tables. 

“Put a sock in it. I'm talking to Wade and Cable.” Annoyed. He does this with every man that you talk to since you arrived.

“That's not working.” Cable sends him a glare. “Uh.. just make sure to do your job.” Obviously scared he walks away. 

“Shit I should keep you. Mama was the only one who could scare him like that.” You’re floored by Cable’s ability. You knew Weasel was a scaredy cat but geez that’s just sad. He’s the bar owner, the patrons should be scared of him.  

“Mama?” Cable’s question makes a slight lull in conversation. Before Wade slaps himself in the head. 

“Right! Y/N meet Cable, this is the handsome brute I now work with. Cable this fine, bubbly young number is Y/N, Weasel’s little sister.” Wade takes lead in the introductions. 

“Sister?”

“Yeah but I'm not a scaredy cat like him.” Nodding you stick part of the towel in your back pocket.

“So what brings you to town?” Wade insists on knowing.

“Just visiting. Came to see if he was still alive. Wondering if any of the patrons had made him more stupid.”

“I doubt that, Wade's here.” Cable chuckles hiding a smile. 

“Oh I definitely like you.” Holding back a snort. You plan to make him your new buddy.

“He is single.” Wade sings causing Cable to groan.

“Wade you know you’re not supposed to be gossiping.” Playfully swatting him on the shoulder.

“But it’s so fun!” Whining he pouts the best he can. 

“Wade.. Hey!” You see a fight about to break out. Grabbing an empty bottle you whirl it at the wall behind the miscreants. The shattering glass makes them look at you. “Boothe, Sacco. Quit that shit or outside!” You glare like an angry mother who has snapped.

“And the lady saves the fortress once again.” Wade cheers.

“That’s the third time this week.” Sighing you are done with Boothe and Sacco’s shit. 

“Did they bet on each other?” Cable tilts back to look at the board.

“No but I'm secretly hoping it’s unrequited love for each other.” Chuckling you place two freebie beers on the counter for the two. 

“A hopeless romantic.” Cable mumbles.

“Yeah, I'm something like that.” 

“384." Cable shoves the clipboard back at you.

“Thank you.” You're slightly confused by Cable. He said the correct number but wrote down the wrong number. Why would he do that? Does he want Wade to win? It would be easier to just give them to him unless he doesn't want it to be a pity gift. Then that's good friendship goals. 

The night goes slowly. Wade's done runoff somewhere, probably trying to score. Cable hasn't moved from the bar. Only a dozen more people have entered your contest but that's because Wade annoyed them with it. 

But you keep finding yourself drifting back to Cable. His glares don't bother you. You bet he's a softy deep down. Most everyone here is, you just have to get through their walls. 

"So how'd you meet Wade?" You place a fresh beer in front of him. Leaning on the bar with your elbows. 

"Crossed paths during a job."

"Ah then let me guess. He was annoying and sarcastic, driving you crazy. But in his annoyingness he helped you complete your job. Not necessarily the way you wanted to."

"Basically."

"Yup sounds like Wade. He's always doing that. Got a good heart but his methods are weird." Nodding you remember all the weird things he has had you do. 

"Super weird."

"Has he bored you to death about his love life or lack of a love life?" 

"That's possible?"

"Yeah so I suggest whatever you do don't mention Captain America, Wade's get a serious crush on him. It'll be word vomiting for days."

"Ugh." The face he makes is of pure disgust but there is some fondness to it. 

"Frankly I think it would be best if Wade and Spiderman hooked up. They already got this flirty fighting friendship."

"Is he the one Wade calls Baby boy?"

"Yup!"

"Wait wait wait!" Wade runs into the counter interrupting the conversation. "Give me the clipboard. I want to change my answer. I was discussing the jelly beans contest with the author. Now I know the correct answer!"

"Okay but only this once." You're hesitant but you know the voices have been talking to him again. It's best to go with it when the voices start. Well for the most part. He quickly scribbles his new number and disappears again. "Oh Wade."

"If you know so much about him why don't you date him?" Cable follows your sight and worried face to Wade’s retreating form. 

"Ew no. What we got is platonic besides he's like my brother and that is gross." Shaking in disgust you give cable a look. 

He laughs this time. An actual laugh, a shoulder shaking laugh. It's a deep rich sounding rumble, it's nice. It'd be nice if you could hear it every day. 

"You have a nice laugh."

"What?"

Pause. Rewind. You can't believe you said that out loud. Embarrassed you stutter trying to cover up what you just said. "I-I mean graph. No staff. No! Half. Fuck!" Closing your mouth all you can do is awkwardly stare. Trying not to blush.

"Aren't you sunshine and rainbows." Obviously teasing you with a genuine smile. You can't handle it. 

"I-I'm going to see if anyone else wants to enter the contest."

"I'll be here." Winking he takes a sip. 

"O-okay." 

Picking your items up you stumble away and pretend to talk to people about the contest. Constantly looking back at Cable without it looking like you're staring. You are unsuccessful in both quests. Last call comes and it's time to announce the winner. Standing on the bar you gather everyone’s attention.

“Listen up! The few of you who entered in the jelly bean contest, I have our winner. Our winner is Wade. With an exact guess of 384 jelly beans.” There are groans all over the bar. Hopping down from the bar, people start filling out. Cornering Wade you set the jar in front of him. “What drink do you want?” 

“Sorry but terminator and me got a job.” Wade pats Cable’s shoulder. “I’ll take the drink next time Y/N.” 

“Okay.”

“Later doll.” Grinning Cable stands. My god you didn't realize how tall and buff he really was. This causes you to blush again. 

“Ooh! Y/N’s got a new nickname.”

Before you can respond, Cable has already hit him. Shoving him towards the door.

“Rude!” Wade sounds like an old lady. 

“You two have fun. I'm here all week.” You wave goodbye. 

“See ya.” Nodding Cable walks to the door before returning. Leaning in close he whispers in your ear. This close you can feel the heat from his body, smell of liquor and...gun grease? For being older he’s fine.

“Can’t forget his jelly beans.” Grabbing the jar he smirks his way outside. Making sure to give you a wink. While you are processing what just happened.

He left you hot and flustered, your body was ready. How in the world did this happen? Pelvic sorcery for the win. Damn. You know who you’ll be thinking about tonight.

[malicedragoness]

Kama sutra challenge with Kombat guys

So my dumbass accidentally deleted this.. 

So this was a challenge with Cosmo magazine, to do 77 different positions from the Kama Sutra within 77 days. By the end of the exercise, you must have done all the positions, with a feeling of more intimacy and trust in the relationship. You can do multiple positions in one day.

So this begs the quest. How would the guys react to you asking them to do this challenge?

nsfw below the cut ---

You walk up to your man and sit down next to him, with a little colorful book in your hand. They ask what you have with you. And you tell them about a 77 day challenge that involves doing a position in the Kama sutra every day. And you were wondering if they were interested...

Erron Black - He completely freezes in the middle of cleaning his guns and looks at you. Did you just ask him to have sex with you everyday? That’s the best idea he’s ever heard. Erron gives you that heart stopping smile of his, while he takes off his gloves and pulls you into his lap. His hand runs up your leg as he whispers into your ear, asking when his sugar wants to get started and what do you want to start with first. You can’t really concentrate as you flip through the book because his thumbs are drawing circles on your inner thighs and he’s kissing your neck. He picks you up and takes you to the bedroom, saying you’ll just open the book at random and start from there.

Favorite positions: The thing about Erron is that he’s a pretty kinky guy. He loves it rough. Biting, scratching, choking, hair pulling, being tied up. And although he likes to switch, he prefers it when you’re on top. For him, it’s insanely sexy to have a woman control and dominate him. You know how a female praying mantis will bite the head off the male? He's into that type of shit. He doesn't want to die, but he doesn't want to be entirely sure he's gonna live either. I mean he dated/slept with Skarlet and Nitara. He loves the danger and kinky factor.

He would enjoy The Supernova the most since he’s hanging off the bed, blood rushing to his head, and you’re riding on top of him while scratching his hips. He’s such a masochist, he can’t help it. And since he’s a leg/thigh man, he would also enjoy The Lap Top. He loves your legs wrapped around his neck. What he didn’t expect, was to be turned on by the closeness you two share in this position and the eye contact. He gets a good look at your face as your writhing in pleasure, and goddamn if that doesn’t push him over the edge.

Other notes: You know what happens once a month? Your period. Is that gonna stop this cowboy? He’ll nah. He’s not saying he’s gonna put his face down there, that’s just gross. But it certainly isn’t going to turn him off. If you’re not comfortable with it, he understands and he won’t push it at all.

However, if you’re willing to give it a shot he’ll grab some towels to put under you and tell you “Let’s make a mess baby doll.” And once you’re done, he’ll run a shower, give you some aspirin, and bundle you up under the covers. He’ll never do anything his darlin is not comfortable with.

What he does experience through the more close and intimate positions, is that he genuinely does care about you. It scares him. Sure he loves being with you, but now he feels like he has a deeper connection with you. He’s not sure how to handle all these new emotions and he feels confused.

One day, he packs a bag and tells you he’ll be back in a few days, he’s got a job he needs to take care of. Erron saw it as an opportunity to clear his head and try to think about all these ‘goddamn feelings and shit.’ If it’s his Black Dragon days, he’ll talk to Kabal even though he knows he’s going to tease him about it. If he’s working with Kotal, he’ll find help in the unlikely source that is Ermac. He does have ten thousand souls living in one body. And they all have have their own opinion.

While he’s gone, all he can think about is going home to you. After listening to either Kabal or Ermac, he realizes that he needs to cowboy up and confront his fucking feelings for once. When Erron returns, he sweeps you up in a bone crushing hug. He doesn’t say anything, he just presses his forehead against yours and looks in your eyes. Erron will eventually apologize, though he says he's never going to do that again, the prideful little shit.

He loves you and wants you to continue to stay with him. You were all he could think about when he was gone. And of course you accept his apology with a kiss. Which then leads to him throwing you over his shoulder and walking to the bedroom. You’ve got two days left and ten positions left to do. Time to get busy!

Kabal: pre burn- His jaw dropped and he stares at you with wide eyes. After a minute of you explaining that it’s supposed to bring more intimacy to the relationship and help you feel closer to each other. Kabal’s perfect mouth turns into the most shit eating grin you have ever seen! You want to have sex with him everyday for two and a half months? Of course you do! He’s already horny just thinking about it. 

Unlike Erron, he takes his time looking through the little book trying to find the most outrageous position to do first. “Look at this one called the Spider!” The two of you are giggling and joking while flipping through the book.

“How do their bodies do THAT?” 

“Princess, you’re gonna have to learn how be flexible real fast to get your leg up that far.”

“How are we not supposed to fall off while doing this?”

As much as he wants to push you back on the couch and ravish you right there, Kabal wants to take this a bit more seriously since it means a lot to you. It’s supposed to bring you two closer together. So he decides to take you out on a date that night, wherever you want to go. He also gets you some roses, and sets the room up with some candles and mood music. He wants you to feel like an absolute princess.

Post burn- Kabal is in complete shock. You can’t see it behind his mask, but he’s blushing and hyperventilating. You two haven’t been as intimate after his accident, but now you want him to do the horizontal tango 77 different ways? It’s a lot to take in, and he’s not overly confident in his abilities anymore. He just now started to take off his mask around you, and he can’t believe you want to see and make love to him like this. You grab his hands and tell him it wasn’t your intention to overwhelm him. You thought this would help bring you two closer together again and strengthen your relationship. And to show him that he is still the same man you love, whether he’s burned or not.

He agrees, albeit very shyly. He loves you and he wants to make you happy in any way that he can. He misses touching your skin and feeling you pressed against him. This is may be a good way to start.

Favorite positions: Pre burn- Now, other people headcanon him an ass man...and I have to agree. He loves your ass. Him and Erron have actually argued about this. They busted out charts, graphs, and Venn diagrams about what is the sexiest body part: ass or legs/thighs. That lasted a few hours, and is an entirely different story.

But it goes to show he loves your junk in trunk. And he would mostly enjoy positions where he can see and grab your butt, such as The Prone Tiger. While you’re moving up and down on him, Kabal isn’t gonna let you do all the work. He’ll grope and spank you and tell you how sexy you look. His fingers might join his cock inside of you, or they’ll be playing with your clit. 

Kabal loves to be more in control during sex, and he doesn’t mind trying something outrageous. Which is why he likes The Sphinx. He gets to be on top controlling the pace, while your sweet ass is bouncing against him, and he gets to either talk dirty in your ear or kiss your neck. It’s a winning position for him.

Post burn- The two of you start off with more simple positions. The Kneel has you both kneeling, your legs on each side of him. Kabal is able to run his hands over body and kiss you passionately. When you’re not kissing, he can’t help but gaze into your eyes and be mesmerized by the way you’re looking at him. He always thought you were beautiful, but now you look like a goddess, and he can’t even believe that you’re actually real.

Other notes: If it’s that time of the month, he’s not going to be receptive to period sex. He’ll roll you up into a burrito, make you some tea, get your favorite snacks, and cuddle you while you watch some Netflix. He’s kind of weirded out by the prospect of your blood on his dick.

Pre burn, he does feel there’s more intimacy in your relationship than he did before and he truly cherishes the bond you two share. It makes him think about a possible future with you.

Post burn- as the weeks go by, he does start to feel more confident in himself. Almost like the man he was before, but more wiser. He also feels eternally grateful to have someone like you in his life, to love him no matter what he looks like. He won’t be able to let you go.

Kuai Liang - “Kama Sutra? Is that another clan? Is that a fighting style?” You stare at him as you realize you have to explain that the Kama sutra is a book about really neat ways to have sex. So when you open the book to show him, he drops his cup of tea.

Kuai is flustered. He didn’t see that coming. At all. He’s cleaning up his spilled tea while trying not to meet your eyes.

He’s not exactly that adventurous when it comes to sex and his drive isn’t that high. So it’s going to take some convincing. His life as a grandmaster is very busy, so he wants to be able to dedicate some of his time for you, but he doesn’t want to promise you something and not be able to commit to it. You both agree to take it week by week, and see what nights he can put aside solely for you.

Favorite positions: Kuai is more into a slow yet passionate pace when it comes to sex. Yes he’ll eventually pick up the pace. But he’s not going to go crazy and get rough. He sees sex as a way to express his love and adoration. He’s a pure cinnamon roll.

So he’s very much into positions that slow things down and take his time. The Zen Pause and The Lotus Blossom allow for both of you to be close to each other, and he gets to set the pace. Another thing Kuai loves is to admire your body. He loves seeing your naked form and will always tell you how beautiful you are. One position that he loves is The Glowing Juniper. Your legs are on his sides while you’re on your back splayed out for him, where he can admire and caress you.

Other notes: Not doing period sex. At all. He would rather take care of you and make you some tea. He loves you but he is nowhere near that freaky. He’s an innocent boy, let him stay this way.

Although you don’t complete everything within the restricted time frame, you and Kuai have still tried new positions a few days a week and eventually completed what you set out to do. He does feel more comfortable being intimate with you and isn’t as shy about it.

While you’re around company, he’ll definitely smile more when you approach and may even try to give you little touches here and there. It could be something as simple as gently placing his hand on your arm and giving you a small smile. Whereas before he would keep everything strictly professional while out in public.

Kenshi - Kenshi could tell there was something naughty you’ve been thinking about lately. He doesn’t mean to pry, but when you have such loud thoughts it’s impossible to not hear them. He was only waiting for you to bring it up. When you finally approach him, he already had a slight smirk on his face.

Of course he’ll do it, anything for his love. However, he does warn you that by him agreeing to this, he gets to do things his way. Kenshi will whisper in your ear that if he wants to do or use something to amplify your pleasure to bring you to a whimpering mess then he’s going to do it. He wants you to have complete trust in him. But you know, if you think you can handle it that is.

Favorite positions: Kenshi definitely likes to be in charge of everything. He knows your body and your wants better than you do and he loves it when you feel completely vulnerable in his hands.

The Waterfall has him sitting on a chair with you on top of his lap, bent all the back with your head almost touching the floor. It makes you rely completely on the man for thrusting and setting the pace. However Kenshi is going to blindfold you and have you both levitating above the ground, while smirking and talking dirty to you. He’s a kinky bastard that way.

He also likes how The Ape has you on top with him penetrating you deeply, while he’s able to pull your hair ever so slightly to keep you in the exact place he wants you. For something more closer and intimate, he enjoys The Basket. It allows him to grab your ass and suck your nipples as he pleases, and say filthy things to you.

Other notes: Kenshi is a grow man. He’s not afraid of period sex. Like Erron, he won’t stick his face down there. But it won’t turn him off one bit. If you’re having bad cramps, he won’t even ask for sex. He knows exactly what to get you to make you happy and comfortable. If not, he will ask if you want to continue.

During and after this exercise, the two of you will have a much deeper connection with one another. You never knew you could feel so much love and trust for a man before and it feels absolutely divine. And now whenever Kenshi is around you, you can’t help but turn into a pile goo when he smirks at you.

Kung Lao - He stares at you...and keeps staring. His face goes red. So red you’re afraid he’s going to get a nosebleed. Kung Lao may be a boastful flirt, but when you boldly flirt back with him, he’ll stumble over his words and start blushing. And the fact that you approached him with wanting to have a lot of sex in different kinky positions...his mind is so broken that his penis was in control when he nodded his head.

He’s a bit vanilla when it comes to sex, but that’s only because he spends most of his time training and hasn’t really experimented. Once he’s finally able to communicate, he’ll express how excited he is by cupping your face and giving you the sweetest kiss you’ll ever receive. Lao will look you in the eyes and tell you he’s ready whenever you wish to start. And then he’ll smirk and say if you can handle him that is. His confidence finally coming back.

Favorite positions: One thing about Kung Lao is that he loves to show off. And the fact that he’s doing something so intimate, to him this is the best chance to impress you with his physique and how flexible he is.

The Bridge is the perfect way for him to show that. He’s on his hands and feet while his body is bent backwards forming an arc. While you’re on top of him, pushing off the floor with your feet. But of course he won’t let you do all the work. So he’ll at some point have you stay still while he tries to bounce you up and down by moving his hips. If you’re a moaning mess it’ll really inflate his ego, and he’s going to be smirking and egging you on. “You like that? You like how I get so deep in you?”

He may think he’s in charge, but he loves girl on top positions. The Rocking Horse let’s you sit on top of him and he supports himself on his hands while leaning back. Once again showing off his strength. He loves watching your face and being so close to you like this, it creates a lot of intimacy between you two.

Other notes: The thought of doing period sex makes him squeamish. However, if you want endless cuddles, sweet kisses, and someone to play with your hair, then he’s your guy. Anything for his sweetheart.

After everything has been said and done, your relationship has a much deeper intimacy than it did before. Kung Lao is definitely more confident and he’s able to back up his words now. He won’t be blushing as much when you flirt with him, but he won’t be able to take his eyes off of you now.

----

I had way too much fun writing this.Sorry for the long post.But if y’all have anything you want to see me write, feel free to drop a request! I want to write more. :D

[flannelpunkcalum]

The Devil Wears Kevlar - Part 11

Watch this space - TDWK masterlist coming soon!

okay, so Calum doesn’t get shirtless or anything in this chapter - he doesn’t even show up so i figured i’d at least give you guys the benefit of this picture. anyway this is the penultimate chapter of The Devil Wears Kevlar! Next week is gonna be super action packed so mark your calendars. After that... we’ll just have to see. other news includes trigger warnings: Aspen briefly experiences something akin to a PTSD panic attack, and there are mentions of death of a loved one but honestly they’re not as intense as the other chapters I just thought I’d let you know ANYWAY HAVE FUN I CAN’T WAIT UNTIL NEXT WEEK

“Mac! Look alive!”

Aspen jerks her head up. Ashton was looking at her across the lab, eyebrows raised. Right. She had been doing - um, she had been working on…

“I’d really like that graph by the end of the day.” Ashton prompts gently.

Right! Graph. Jesus, was that all? It really shouldn’t have taken her this long to begin with. “Yeah, sorry, I’m just having trouble with the statistics. There’s something weird about the indications of significance. I’ll fix it and then it’s all yours.” She says quickly, focusing on the graph in front of her and not just middle distance.

Ashton smiles bittersweetly at her. She can see it out of the corner of her eye. She probably wasn’t supposed to notice that. The thought is surprisingly funny; it’s just one more thing she’s not supposed to see. “Thanks, Mac.” He says before he turns back to his own work.

“Mac” is new. He never called her that before her little, uh, incident. He wouldn’t have let her work on the error bars on her own before, either. He would have come over and fixed them himself and printed it, while he was at it. Unmean but brisk, with no room for weakness.

Was that what she was these days? The team’s weakness?

Aspen taps a little harder on the keyboard. It helps a little.

It’s been a week. A whole week since her untimely dismissal from the great office of Mr. Calum Hood. A little more than that since her cheek had gotten filleted. She was going to get the stitches taken out that evening after work. It was pissing her off that the rest of her wasn’t healing as quickly.

Oh. She blinks at the screen. Turns out the statistics were an easy fix. She hits print and takes the tiny commute to the printer before handing it to Ashton. He smiles at her for it, but his eyes catch on her scar again. Only for a second, but she notices. It happens a lot now, but she still notes it, every time. She can’t help it.  

Personally, she kinda thinks the cut looks rakish. She’s started answering to inquiries about it with “you should see the other guy” and her very best mischievous smile, and people usually act a little more relaxed after that, which is nice. At night when she’s brushing her teeth, though, she finds herself looking at it and wondering if she’s always going to be introducing people to her scar.

Still, it could be worse. Falcone’s never gonna call her his pretty little girl ever again.

He’s in trouble. That’s another thing that’s changed over that week. Falcone’s been indicted for a bunch of charges related to the Sionis and Trident murders, and he’s pleading not guilty but they’ll just see how it all shakes out in court. Her only contact with Calum is emails from his lawyers updating her on what the prosecution needs from her in anticipation of the trial. She can’t believe she’s going to be so stupid as to testify against a mobster, but hey, she has a feeling the night guard is going to be keeping an eye on her for the next few weeks.

It’s funny; she feels paranoid, but it’s not paranoia if it’s true, right? After a few days of anxiously taking taxis everywhere, worrying that the cabby is on Falcone’s payroll, she allows herself the much cheaper danger of walking home. She’s heard a lot more suspicious noises on rooftops lately. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but it’s nice to pretend Calum is looking down at her from above and getting pissed that she’s on her own like that. Maybe if she starts waltzing into crack dens he’ll talk to her again. Maybe she’ll join a Russian roulette team.

Aspen toys with the thought of taking up cliff diving as she settles back down at her desk. The BAMF project is going swimmingly - they decided to use Tencel for the bandages and now she was helping to determine a good formula for the “healing fluid”. She loved doing R&D like this. It was only a mixture of salts and synthetic proteins, but she could make it sound like miracle juice. If she hadn’t been quite so observant that night, she would have been thrilled to be back down in the lab, doing what she loved.

But here she was.

It’s 4:30, and although it’s only a Monday she can still read the atmosphere in the lab. She’s not likely to be needed any more tonight. Plus, she’s gonna run out of mutilation-based sympathy at some point, she might as well use it while she can. “Hey, Ash, is it cool if I head out?” She says, rolling her chair over towards his desk. “I want to get my stitches out and there might be less of a wait if I go now. You know, so I miss the rush of all the people who also get off at 5 and need to get their stitches taken out.”

Ashton chuckles, putting the graph aside for a second. “Will you come in early tomorrow to score the mice?” He says, after a long moment.

Good. That’s good. She’s edging away from pity. “Yeah, sure, whatever you want. I’ll bring you something from the gift shop.” Aspen teases as she walks her chair back to her desk to grab her things.

It will be nice to come in early, anyways. She finds that she misses the half-hour of quiet she used to get before the day began. Being the first in the lab and checking up on the mice, changing their bandages and marking how they’ve healed, sounds really nice right about now. She’s always felt a bit of resonance with those little animals, anyways. She, too, is soft and skittish and just wanting to sleep in a pile of wood shavings.

As she enters the elevator, she lets herself think for the first time that maybe it’s good that Calum didn’t let her join him. It’s a thought that’s been hovering around the edges of her mind for weeks, but only now is it becoming concrete. She thinks she’s tough, sure, but she’s let herself be treated so gently the last few days and she’s starting to think she might miss it. Maybe she’s more delicate than she ever imagined. I mean, if she identifies with a mouse, how’s she gonna stand up to fucking Catwoman? Maybe Calum didn’t try to transfer her out of spite, or a pigheaded desire to protect her. Maybe he just saw something in her, some hairline fractures that would widen into faults under any pressure. Maybe he heard her tell Liam what time he got into the office.

Not that it mattered. She’d never see him again.

She had tried. The day she had been, uh, let go, she had tried to come back at the end of the day. Her excuse was that she wanted to say goodbye to Janet, but she was really hoping to talk to Calum about some of the evidence she had collected and just… make her case properly, she didn’t know. But when she had said hello to Jan, let herself be hugged and fussed over, once that was all out of the way, well… “He doesn’t want you up here.” Janet had told her, glancing at Mr. Hood’s office door. It was closed. Aspen didn’t know if he was in there, if he was listening. “He told me to tell you he was out if you ever came up. I’m really sorry, Aspen, but you know how he gets.”

It had been another blow, then, the kind that left you mercifully numb for a while before it started to hurt. “I understand.” She had managed, finally. “You’re just doing your job. Oh, my god, you’re gonna have so much work now.” And that had been that.

Now she wondered if it had been a test. If she was supposed to march in there and demand he at least let her talk to him, goddamn it, so she didn’t go crazy sitting on all this. But if it was a test, she had failed, and it was no one’s fault but her own.

It was nice outside, but windy, and on her walk to the hospital the breeze picked up her hair and whipped it around her face. She had started wearing it down more, at least while her cut still looked raw and meaty when it wasn’t bandaged up, but it was just getting annoying now. She wasn’t sure why she was even bothering to hide the cut. It wasn’t even that gross now, anyways, and if she could live with it so could that weird guy on the train who had stared at her so long he almost missed his stop.

The waiting room in Gotham General was busy, which shouldn’t have surprised Aspen. Shit went down in this city every single day. Maybe Calum had popped out on his lunch break to break a few arms. The thought of him in that Armani suit busting kneecaps was funny, making her bite her lip as she checked in.

He did that a lot, you know, she’d read an analysis of injuries attributed to the Bat. She was just thankful she had fallen stupid head over heels for a vigilante that practiced non-lethally. It made sense; he had an incredible position of power, and if he used that power to kill people who had been struggling all their lives - like, if he had killed the Joker she would have been cool with it, but the thugs, the kids like Liam… She wouldn’t have been able to stand for that.

She pulled a scientific journal out of her bag and settled in to wait. She wanted something good to bring up at the next lab meeting, put this period of weakness behind her. She had a feeling the efficiency of the collagen synthesis could be improved. They were currently using cultures of mouse fibroblasts to produce it, since using yeast hadn’t worked out, but she had seen some recent research on using insect stomach lining to produce another factor that hadn’t been viable in yeast models, and maybe if they -

Aspen heard a bang, far off, and jumped in her seat. So did the man next to her. Her heart started thumping, and she reminded herself that this wasn’t another incident. She wasn’t in any danger. She could hear yelling, back in the ambulance bays, but this was a hospital. Some people were scary when they were sick. There were people here trained to keep them and her safe. She should know, her grandpa had been dangerous in his last few days in the hospital, he had been a big football player (the shouts were getting louder) and in his last few days, in his last few days he had been so angry and he had to be restrained, she understood it could happen to anyone -

The bay doors were there one moment, and then she saw them bend. Aspen’s rising panic catches in her throat. It was happening again. She stands up, quickly, scrabbling in her jacket pockets for that knife. She had stopped carrying it a few days ago, feeling silly, but now, now - fuck, it really wasn’t there, why hadn’t she kept it - someone huge and hulking ran through the waiting room, yelling, screaming something, and burst through the sliding doors like the glass was just rain. It was over in a second. Aspen stands there, flooded with adrenaline, as a few orderlies and security guards chase after the woman. There are fat drops of blood among the broken glass.

The nurses are saying something to calm the room down. Aspen can’t hear it. Fuck, she had thought - she had really thought, for a second, that shouting, that something was for her. She sits back down. Her journal is all crumpled now.

Fuck.

But she stays. Some people leave, but she stays. She needs to get her stitches out, and anyways there’s nowhere safer when a big beefy thug is on the loose than the place said thug was trying to escape. Right?

Her name gets called soon enough, and she gets to wait a little longer in a little emergency room cubicle until a doctor can come and slip the stitches out of her face. The doctor’s a little shaken, too. She doesn’t make much small talk as she’s cleaning up Aspen’s face with an alcohol wipe. Aspen’s still sweaty and jittery. “I know there’s like doctor-patient confidentiality, but can I ask… is that lady gonna be okay? She just ran through that door like -”

“I’m sure she didn’t feel it.” The doctor says, setting the wipe aside. She’s still focused on Aspen’s face, she won’t look her in the eye for more than a coincidental fraction of a second. “You never saw someone on Venom before?”

“Venom?”

The doctor smiles. Her hands are cold. “You’re new to Gotham, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna have to start learning a little faster.” Aspen says, glancing at the blurry red line that was her scar in her own vision.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to -”

“No, no, it’s okay. I’m very new.”

��I saw the report from when you got the stitches in. You’re very brave.”

“Thank you.” Aspen says, quickly. She doesn’t want to talk about that, just get the stitches out. “But, uh, what exactly is Venom?”

“‘S a drug. Only really around in Gotham. We’re trying to figure out an effective treatment for - depending on the dose, it can make you feel really strong and euphoric, and if you take enough it just - it has this unbelievable effect on the muscles. It’s incredible.” Aspen feels scissors snip right by her face, cold where they brush her cheek. “And we have no idea how to deal with it. Most people we just hold and put on a saline until they detox, but the ones who have OD’d - it’s hard to restrain them.” Aspen feels the threads loosening under her cheek. “This might hurt a little.”

Aspen white-knuckles the edge of the hospital bed she’s sitting on and holds her breath as the suture thread slips right out from under the skin on her cheek.

“Perfect. No bleeding, even. You took good care of it.” The doctor says, putting the suture aside. Aspen looks at it on the tray. It has a few bits of her face stuck to it, pieces of healing scabs. It looks so small.

As she says thank you and prepares herself to go, the doctor stops her with a look as she’s washing her hands. “The report said you saw the Batman?”

Aspen feels a twinge of pain, and curls a hand into a fist to try and hide it. “Yeah, he, uh, basically saved my life.”

The doctor turns off the tap. Her eyes are shining. Aspen wonders how young she is. “What’s he like?”

“Oh, uh… brisk, I guess.” Aspen blinks. “He didn’t really give me a chance to get my bearings, y’know, he just hauled me up and pulled me out the window. It was all really fast.” It’s different, telling this story to a stranger. She wants to make herself sound braver in it. Make Calum sound kinder. Well, he saved her life, that was kind. Easier, she guesses.

The doc is still looking at her expectantly. Aspen feels a little glow of pride, attaching herself to the Bat like this. She’s never really thought about him this way. “Um… He’s really caring, when you get down to it. When he took me to the squad car the cops had their guns drawn at first because, you know, he’s like a vigilante and all, but it really freaked me out. He got between me and them and made them put their guns down before he let me get in the car. He didn’t have to do that. I know the vigilante thing is kind of controversial, but I think he really is a good guy, you know?” She shrugs, wondering if her little smile gives anything away. That she knows him. That she’s fallen for him before.

“Wow.” Says the doctor. “Yeah, wow. That’s incredible. I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“Yeah, well, me too.” Aspen’s smile is easier, now. It feels different, without her cheek stitched up.

The doctor laughs. Aspen feels charming again, even with the scar. “Yeah, well, the next time you see him, tell him to look into that Venom stuff, alright? We could really use the - what do they call him, the - the world’s greatest detective on this case.”

“I haven’t heard that one before.” Aspen says, taking a step into the hallway.

“Well, it’s what they call him. Have a good night, alright?”

“You too!” Aspen gives a little wave to the doctor, and finds her way back to the emergency room exit. Someone has already swept up most of the glass.

It sticks in her mind as she begins walking to the subway. Someone should tell him. Bring his attention to this. A new street drug without a treatment was a bad thing no matter what, but if it made you strong enough to bend steel - Batman should turn some of his thousands of dollars in funding to that.

World’s greatest fucking detective. He couldn’t detect his way out of a paper bag.

That was mean. Aspen just thought that at him because she was bad. Probably if it was a big paper bag he could manage.

Anyway, it didn’t matter if she should tell him about it or not. Calum Hood had decided never to see her again, and it wasn’t like Batman had an open door policy.

Wait.

The Batman was supposed to be a ghost; you never knew where he was going to be. Except she knew, and the GCPD knew, that at the next major disaster he would be there. And he wasn’t going to ignore her if she showed up there, all cute and vulnerable without a bulletproof vest. He’d see she was serious. He’d see she could take the heat. And he’d see there was even a convenient project for her to work on to keep her cover.

Was she really going to do this?

Aspen took a deep breath. She didn’t have to decide now. If something came up, she’d think about taking that risk.

It was the kind of thing you couldn’t take back.

For the next few nights, Aspen compromised. She listened to the news while she was doing dry lab prep, and turned on all the notifications on her “Gotham News & Alerts” app, but she didn’t, like, start going out and trying to buy Venom right from the source. It gave her time to think. Really, it was bold of her to think he didn’t already have a crack team of biologists - just that he preferred the processing of the GCPD lab so they had it all recorded, maybe. He had to have a real reason for this, other than just... doing this to hurt her. 

She was working on her miracle juice when it happened, with the news on and some 80s pop playing overtop to help her focus. There had been a break-in at an upscale cocktail party, which was good, and a riot at the Arkham Asylum - nothing huge, that happened all the time. Batman probably didn’t get called for those. When the news came through, she almost missed it under her music.

“The small riot at Arkham Asylum-” Ha, Aspen thought, small riot. “-has escalated after Pamela Ivey, a.k.a. Poison Ivy, began to demolish the heritage building. Known for her control over plant life, Ivey has used her abilities to destroy the foundation of the building. No inmates are reported missing, but GCPD are suggesting that all citizens in the area begin evacuation to the city centre. We’ll bring you updates as they come, but for now, we turn to journalist and Gotham history expert -”

Aspen bit her lip and tried not to freak out. Just because it was the first disaster to come along since her painful rejection, that didn’t mean it was time to make her move. What was she going to do during a prison break, anyways? She didn’t know anything about working with psychiatric patients, or overseeing evacuations, or -

“Update now from Arkham Asylum, police efforts to control the plant growth are failing. Experts are now trying to evacuate the Asylum in preparation for controlled burn, but analysts are concerned that moving large groups of inmates might end up just like every other -”

Plants. Jesus Christ, she knew biology. She couldn’t believe it didn’t hit her sooner. Aspen squints at the news report and tries to do some on-the-spot identification. Her pulse was racing. Taxonomy had her pulse racing. She couldn’t believe it. Now she got why Calum did this.

She needs to focus. It looked like… like… It looked like jute. Okay, there was that. She knew the plant. She knew the plant! Fuck, okay, she couldn’t get ahead of herself. Focus. She had read something about jute recently, something as to why it wasn’t bigger as a source of natural fiber… part of it was the water required, part of it was… cold sensitivity. The plants didn’t respond well to cold! That was how they were gonna beat this without burning down a heritage building. Batman had to have something that could do that, right?

Oh my god. She actually had to do this.

Aspen takes a deep breath. She had thought that she would have a choice, when the time came. That she’d be able to weigh her options objectively, and maybe sit this one out if it came to that. But she couldn’t. Her mind was already racing. She’d stick a textbook and a cookie sheet in her backpack, improvise some armor. She should wear black. If they were evacuating inmates, she should plan for the worst, this was Gotham after all. She packed her pocket knife.

As Aspen hustled to the door, she paused with her hand on the knob. She should say goodbye to her roommates. In case -

No. She couldn’t. It might destroy whatever foolhardy courage had gotten her this far.

She would just have to be careful not to die.

[fun-with-colors]

2 3 7 10 12 13 14 18 19 20 40 46 50 Quarantine asks? (Sorry if thats too many)

That’s totally fine! Happy to answer questions, haha

I hope you don’t mind if I sometimes take the opportunity to go off on tangents and anecdotes, though. If it comes up. 

Whew, alright. Let’s do this. 

I’m gonna put this under a readmore because it’s probably gonna get long. And because, for once in my life, I am actually on the desktop version of tumblr.

2. Grilled Cheese or PB&J?

Grilled cheese. PB&Js can get soggy more easily, and they can be kind of mushy if you get the ratios wrong. Besides, they’re much more likely to be sticky and messy, and honestly there are very few things I hate more in this world than having my hands or face be sticky. 

3. Background video for when i don’t have anything to watch, but I want Something On?

I really like this youtube series called Citation Needed. Its premise is that it’s kind of like a reverse trivia thing. One guy has a laptop with a wikipedia article up, and he’ll give the other 3 guys only the name of the article, and they have to figure out what the article is about. It’s hilarious, and also informative. Honestly, pretty much anything with Tom Scott is good background stuff, I’ve found. That might just be because he makes videos about computer science and linguistics, though, and those two things are pretty much my favorites.

7. First word as a child (that wasn’t a variation of “mom” or “dad”)?

I’m pretty sure it was “ball.” Boring, I know. 

10. Do you own any signed books/memorabilia in general?

I own a few signed books, but that was mostly just happenstance. The only thing I have that’s special for being signed is a poster for a play I was going to be in. It was cancelled due to the coronavirus, sadly. It’s signed by a lot of the other members of the cast and crew. 

12. What do you get on your bagels? What WOULD you get, if you could get anything?

I alternate between regular cream cheese and strawberry cream cheese. Honestly, I’m intrigued by the idea of a thin layer of cheesecake on top of a proper new york bagel. (though the idea of cheesecake on one of those “it’s just circular bread” bagels sounds horrible)

13. Brunch or midnight snacks?

Why not both? A snack after I wake up, and then a lunch(?) somewhere between 10 am and 3 pm, dinner at about 6:30, and then a midnight snack. 

14. Favorite mug you own?

I’ve got a few that are great. There’s one that looks like a red solo cup, which is awesome. I’ve also got one with a cat on it sitting at a desk with a bunch of papers with complicated graphs on them saying “at one point, this made perfect sense”

18. What’s the one TV show that you’re a little bit embarrassed to watch but you like nonetheless?

Uh... hm. I don’t watch many TV shows. Recently I’ve been binging My Hero Academia, but I don’t think that’s the answer to the question. There isn’t one, really? I used to watch TV shows that I now find kind of embarrassing, but at the time I was smack dab in the middle of the demographic, and I didn’t find them embarrassing at the time. There is a TV show that I was watching a few months ago (but ended up dropping) called Interviews with Monster Girls that definitely fit into this category, though. 

19. That book you were forced to read for class but ended up enjoying?

Hmm. There were a few books that I liked when I read them but have since grown less enthusiastic about, including Lord of the Flies and the Great Gatsby. However, I did really like To Kill a Mockingbird. I actually had to read that twice for school, once in middle school and once in high school. 

20. Do you match your socks?

It depends. I’ve got some socks where I definitely match them, because they’ve got words on them or something, but there are some pairs where I don’t worry about it too much. That said, I absolutely make sure that the socks are the same thickness, the same material, and the same height. Otherwise, it’s unbearable. Basically, since all of my socks are colorful and patterned and from a bunch of different sets, I just make sure the two socks are from the same set. 

And now it’s time for:

SOCKS THAT MY MOM HAS GOTTEN ME OVER THE YEARS:

-a pair that say “Kick this day in it’s sunshiney ass”

-a pair that say “I’m a delicate fucking flower”

-a pair that say “Love you... weirdo”

-a pair that say “These are my cuddly period socks”

-a pair that say “Cats don’t care if you’re crazy”

-my grandmother got me a pair that say “fuck off, I’m reading”

-a pair that say “you say crazy cat lady like it’s a bad thing”

And my personal favorite, 

-a pair that say “Adult in training” (They seem like they’ll always bee too big for me)

Alright, back to the questions

40. Where do you sit in the living room?

Either on the left side of the couch or on one of the two chairs opposite the couch. Mostly the couch. There are only really 3 places to sit in the living room, and I don’t really spend enough time there to have a specific place. Really, the only place where I have a “specific place” is at the kitchen table. 

46. What’s the freezer food you stock up on when you go to the grocery store?

I don’t really have a staple for this. I guess... pasta? Mac and cheese or tortellini? Most of the time I just buy box mac  and cheese and non-frozen tortellini, though. 

50. How are you at climbing trees?

Oh man. I miss the days when I feared neither bugs nor moss nor splinters. I had a reputation as a kid. I could (and would) climb anything. I made a point to climb as high as I could any time I saw a climbable tree, and usually I made it pretty far. I remember one time I was at the park with my friends, and there was this huge pine tree. The branches all started too high up to reach, but there was a chain-link fence right beneath it. I climbed up the fence and into the tree, and then I just kept climbing. I got all the way to the very top. The crows that were sitting up there looked kind of confused. My friends were impressed, though. 

I also used to climb to the top of the chain-link thing behind home base at the baseball diamond at that park too. Though, it was pretty common for me to be yelled at for that. The fence was kind of coming apart from the railing at the very top of the cone-shaped part, and so people got nervous when I went up there and laid on the fencing. Never fell, though. 

I also found a way to get on top of one of the buildings at that park. There was a fence that connected up with the back of the building, and there was also a pipe that went up the side of the building. I realized that by climbing on the fence, I could reach the pipe, and I could climb up the brackets holding it to the wall and onto the roof. Eventually, my mom told me that I had to stop doing that, because it was making other parents nervous and she was tired of explaining that “Yes, I know my child is on the roof. Yes, it’s fine. Yes, she can get back down. No, I’m not concerned.” And she also didn’t want other kids who couldn’t get back down safely to copy me. “Hey, stop, you’re making other parents nervous and I’m tired of having to constantly explain that everything’s fine” was a pretty common thing for me to hear. 

There was also that time that I was at a summer camp, and there was a tree. I went up there with a few of my friends, and we were having a grand old time. Eventually, I found a bouncy branch and decided to bounce on it. One of my friends was like “Hey, uh, are you sure that’s safe? It looks like it might break.” And I said “Yeah, it’s fine! Besides, I’ve got this other branch to hold on to if anything happens, not that it wil”--*SNAP* and then I fell. Luckily, I managed to catch myself on another branch on the way down, so it was more like a 7 foot fall than a 15 foot fall, but still. I was fine, if shaken. However, that led to a limit on how high into that tree we were allowed to climb. 

I was also the one who most commonly ignored that limit. 

So, in summary: Pretty good. 

[modern-oedipus]

Check-List for the Goals I settled for 2019

The funny mistake I’ve made earlier lead me think about what I’ve expected from 2019 when we started it. I found a list of the goals I made while we were entering the new year’s and here is a realistic evaluation of how it went.

• First of all, I wanted to manage my depressive episodes better. I wanted to have them less frequently. I wanted not to be absolutely crashed if a trigger hit me. Here’s how it went with a rough statistics (yes, because I’m a soon-to-be scientist, I actually made a graph of my own mood swings as if I am a test subject).

✔️ January was absolutely terrible for me. I had so much anxiety because of a toxic relationship and I wasn’t sure if I could ever live without that person. I failed two classes and withdraw a third one. I was super anxious about my internships. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be on the path I was and I was also having financial troubles. Also, one of my pet birds had passed away.

✔️ February was the month I truly felt like something in me was changing for the better. I felt like something clicked after the winter break— when I was, in a funny way, forbidden from consuming sugar for three days. I used to eat a lot of sugar/sweets to cope with my stress back then, to the point I still amaze at myself for not being overweight, plus size, or developing diabetes; because I really was eating too much sweets. But then I had a conversation with my father that feels unworldy, and combinated with the tree days no sugar diet and beginning of the new semester I suddenly felt like, even if I couldn’t fix everything, I could fix something. I had to start, regardless of how little. So I started by eating carefully— so significiantly less sugar consumed than I used to be, but I didn’t force it all at once. So if I were eating 3 brownies a day I decreased it step by step to 2 brownies a day, one brownie a day, and... At November 2019, it is probably a brownie once in 15 days. With even more pleasure than eating 3 brownies at once. (Don’t worry, I still let myself be free of eating whatever I want occassionally. I’m taking care of my health). Anyway. I started to hit up gym in my college for first time ever. I was so painfully inconsistent, but I knew that much was to be expected, so instead of getting angry at myself for not being a regular I just appreciated myself for going despite not being a regular.

✔️ March was a turnpoint. I decided to be bold enough to pursue my ex hobbies that I lost because of depression, one of them being writing. I’ve had a strong muse for Norman back then. I made a new account on Facebook. I knew no one, but to my luck I made so many friends. I drowned in NorRay ship with a very nice roleplay partner. I built new friendships away from the toxic partner of mine who was seriously causing a lot of damage on me. By the end of March we broke up and— surprise, my world didn’t end. I felt so refreshed, so alive, as if I was freed of my chains, and up until this day this feeling stands. I was more eager to pursue new hobbies, talk about my interests and do crazy shit instead of worrying my ex would think. I was happier. Much happier. This too, is still valid.

✔️ April was... unworldly. Because something that relates to my society happened as a big improvement and I was extremely positively surprised. This feeling is valid up to this day as well.

✔️ May... May was wild. I got kissed by a random stranger at the spring fest party. This fucking event lead me to write Conflict. Seriously. I built stronger friendships, online and offline, during this month. I felt truly connected.

✔️ June!!! June was so weird! It was my first break after one or maybe two years of depression. It was my first free holiday in which I didn’t reall feel like I was a waste of time, space, effort, money, etc. I got to walk around streets with a burden off my shoulders after so long. I got to look forward to the next days. The insecurities hit me up sometimes, but significantly less frequently, as I aimed in the beginning of the year. At this point I have had lost a good 5 kgs and had been eating very healthily too, and I was enjoying this new healthier lifestyle I adapted. This is still valid too.

Let’s examine June a little more carefully. At the end of the June I was going to go out of town to have an internship at a very prestigious university out of town. Which meant I had to stay in student dorms. I had no background about my field of internship yet. I was going to be utterly alone and I was freaking out about it. I’ve spent last week of June extremely tense because I don’t live in dorms normally and sharing a space with people and being alone at a professional place and things like doing laundry felt terrifying. But at the same time I was proud of myself because I’ve had always wondered how life would be living in a college campus, and this school I went was the best in my country equal to the university I am attending. Overall, it was prestigious and I was very excited.

Another important thing about June was that I’ve had written almost ALL of Conflict in my head with two of my roleplay partners eagerly listening to me and encouraging me whenever I plotted.

Have you noticed this?

My story was completed BEFORE I even posted.

At the end of June, a few days before I was about to leave for the internship, I had a breakdown. I had a bad breakdown. I had first draft of Conflict completed but I could never get to edit it. I could never get to post it. I didn’t even have an account. I didn’t really expect much interest in the story either, I just... I don’t know. I think I just thought, “Wow, this plot is so feelsy. I shouldn’t keep it buried in me. Maybe other people will love it too.” and I... kept Conflict waiting... for so long. Then I had a breakdown thinking I can’t do a fucking thing right and I’ll never get to post anything because I always let my “depression” take over it— which is a funny excuse because I wasn’t even depressed at June. Scared yes, but not depressed. I hate playing the victim. Objectively speaking, I wasn’t at my best but it wasn’t my worst either. Anyway. I left first chapter of Conflict linger there for a few weeks, hopeless that I could ever post.

✔️ Then comes July. I came to the internship city! It was AWESOME. I LOVED the campus, LOVED the experience, LOVED my field, and ENJOYED dorm life. I made many friends. I had roommates. I worked out more often. I went to sightseeing. I extended my network. I did A LOT of fun stuff.

On the first night I was at dorms, my two roommates were out. I didn’t know anyone yet. I had ONE night free to do anything. I was... in an awe. So I opened the documents. I looked at the pretty sight from my dorm room and I said, “Well, let’s do this.”

It was like a torture to finish that first chapter.

I had no expectations when I posted.

But oh my god, it felt like something clicked when I posted! Getting my story POSTED was a significant proof that I was SERIOUSLY moving on from the LAST traces of depression. It was something I created. It was MY productivity. It was ME. But in a way it was everyone. I felt extremely happy. Oh— did I mention Conflict is my first fanfiction?

Anyway, then I began to look forward to updating. Living in campus had it’s amazing advantages, such as no time wasted on transport, and ability to chill at coffee shops or 24/7 open library ALL NIGHT if I wanted. Which was wayyy less depressing than the environment of my house. I wrote. I felt super engaged. The simple fact that I could exist and produce something and have other people respond to it was something I could never imagine myself doing back on my depressed days. (But I could totally imagine this BEFORE I got in depression. In a way, I was back. I am still back. And I’m so grateful.)

I wasn’t only fooling around to write, though. I’ve been learning a lot. Experiencing a lot. Living a lot. It was amazing. I even binge watched Harry Potter with my roommate— and I hadn’t rewatched it before. (I had fucking forgotten that Sirius died, lmao.)

I also briefly fell in love again. It was a nice brief summer thing. Still think she’s amazing.

I need to go now, actually, so I’m abrubtly cutting this post off halfway to edit later. I don’t know what I earn by sharing this. I’m definitely not looking for attention— maybe you’ve realized it before but I give very little fucks about what people around me say (except for constructive critism). But somehow, I felt as if someone needed to see this. I don’t know that person. I don’t know who they are and when they are reading this. I just want people to know that there is an example of a girl who seriously changed a lot within span of a year by constant hard work, gentle-self-talks, and constant push-throughs even when she’s not motivated. Right now I’m far from being depressed nor suicidal, I’ve lost enough weight to dress up all bold clothes I LOVE to wear, I’ve built self-confidence, etc, as I will edit later. I just... want you all to know... even if this is not valid for everyone if you want something to happen you have to MAKE it happen. And it actually HAPPENS when you MAKE it happen. So, you don’t have to stay stuck in a bad cycle. You don’t even need a new year’s eve to do this. I started at february, see?

So do your best! I’m cheering for you!

Edit: I’m back. So point of this post was to check whether I’ve reached my goal of having less frequent depressive episodes. (Because I know I’m human and depressive episodes can hit ANYONE, so I didn’t have an unrealistic “I’ll never experience this again” expectation but I did have the expectation of “I’ll experience this maybe once or twice in a year, move on fast w/o unhealthy coping mechanisms and I’ll stay connected to LIFE instead of dissosciation” and I’ve achieved this.

A fast summary would be,

July built my self confidence at all aspects, from my hobbies to my career, my social skills to my curiosities. It was amazing.

August-September was vacation. One month of having a blissful vacation without feeling like a burden. One month of having full bliss. No depressive episodes not even once. I was regularly working out and I didn’t gain any weight even though I eat sweets and nice food everyday because of “holiday”. I went to a dietician in the end to find out my blood sugar is very healthy and my weight is normal now.

At the end of September & beginning of October I was nervous because of school, but I handled a lot better. I have done my best. I have truly done my best. I attended almost all lectures, I engaged in the material, asked all questions on my mind, went office hours, stayed active in newspaper, continued to hit up gym regularly, built more friendships, ALSO STAGED A THEATRE TEXT I HAVE WRITTEN LIKE THAT WAS AMAZING, and— and—

I don’t know, fast through November it doesn’t feel enough. I don’t know what I’ve honestly expected. But I expected to feel smarter or something, because science is hard shit. I expected better grades than this because I have honestly given it my all best. But the fact that my friends called me to reassure me made me really happy because one of my other goals was to build friendships and to think people, online and offline, check up on me makes me tear up. Especially when they are genuniely by my side as friends. It just feels so nice. So I’m feeling bittersweet.

I couldn’t lose any more weight since June, but I kept gaining/losing in some balance and I’m stable by now. My aim for February is to... lose 10 kgs in total— in a year. Which means I’ve got 4 kgs left to get rid of extra weight. I’m not really obsessed with body image, I’ve never been, but... What will I even do if I do not eat healthy and exercise? I mean, what’ll I even do? I like exercising and healthy eating. So I should just prevent stressful eating further so I can get rid of all the extra stuff. I’m already wearing all the pretty clothes I want and I do get stares because ;; idk they look cute I’m cute. Not in a narcissitic way. But self-love is important. I’m bi anyway, I do think girls are cute so since I’m a girl why shouldn’t I be cute as well?? A very feminine girl in fact, so like, hell yes, at least Nila can now wear whatever she wants and feels like she looks good on them so ONE OF THE MAJOR GOALS OF 2019 is fucking SETTLED!!

I’m planning to meet up my dietician again soon, and say that, “Look, I’ve come this far. Let’s lose 4 kgs in next 4 months. It makes 1 kg a month. Amazingly managable right? So guide me so I don’t ruin my health while thinning.”

So, I’ve managed my three major goals: Get rid of depression (learn how to burn it if it hits you); get a body you not only appreciate but feel genuniely HAPPY to be in; and built friendships and strengthen your bonds with people.

My two other major goals are incompleted, though. To cut it short, I wanted to get a better academic standing— from my first midterm grades I couldn’t really achieve that no matter how hard I tried, which is truly upsetting, but I have no choice but to go on. I love my major. I love science. I genuniely want to stay in this field. I don’t think I’m too idiotic to be a scientist. Sometimes I do think that, okay, but that’s a common thought in STEM majors. I do want to believe that what I work on will make a difference. It will have a meaning. So even though these results... are very discouraging to the point I felt really bad today, as if I could somehow, I don’t know, have a panic attack or something (I did not, I don’t have chronic anxiety or panic attacks or whatever, never experienced this). I just felt close to it, with increased heartbeat and feeling a bit dizzy and also very... imbalanced. But that’s probably because I didn’t eat well today, I unintentionally ate very little hence probably it exhausted me combined with bad news and saturday’s breakdown. Anyway. I have no choice but to go on, believing it will be better. My last major goal was to have a romantic partner, haha. Because I just want to. I mean, I don’t think I need to justify why I’d want a boyfriend or a girlfriend, and I don’t think I worked hard for this goal lol. I mean, I didn’t go out of my way to reach people. I liked like... three people this year, I still like one of them, but... It didn’t... go far. That’s probably because I still haven’t completely shaken off my shyness and unwillingness to get out of my comfort zone.

In conclusion, I have achieved 3/5 of my goals, which is more than half of it! So good job! For the girlfriend/boyfriend part, I, haha, I may neglect it for this year I mean it’s dumb to date someone just because??? You want to date before year ends right??? I mean, I’m not exactly angry at myself for that because it’s not only in my control so I think I forgive myself for not achieving that goal.

Academics though.

Ugh, academics are extremely terrifying to me.

That’s one big thing I need to settle.

On the bright side I have— two months! Silly me thought I have just one! So... let me... work hard in these two months!!!! And I’ll update if I can get a better GPA this semester. And if I get a lover. It’s ok not to have lovers but at least let me keep the GPA high I BEG you.

I’ve got new goals settled for 2020. But I will focus on achieving my last two goals before the year ends (academics mostly) and... update!

I don’t know who needs to read this. But I don’t mind having my journey posted at this point. I still feel very uncomfortable talking about depression, actually. But it was my reality. Now that I truly moved on, I can talk about it and critisize myself for all good and all bad.

I hope, to anyone who bothered to read so long, it gave some hope. That things can get better. That you CAN make things better little by little. 2020 can be your year. Or you can start on this very day like I randomly started on February (I didn’t have a thing for February, I just so happened to decide).

I’ll always be cheering those who do their best to make a difference.

Stay safe and let’s work hard. ❤️

Disclaimer: Some of my kind hearted readers were worried about me because Conflict describes unhealthy mindsets. Don’t worry— more than half of them are not based on my real life experiences! I’m not self-harming (never did, don’t think I ever will), neglecting antidepressants (I never used any actually), have suicidal tendencies (well, that part was real but no longer valid) AND I DON’T HAVE A RELATIONSHIP LIKE NORMAN/PETER sO Y’ALL CAN CHILL thank you for worrying about me I love you all

And I’ll be more than happy to be your goals-buddy if you want to change something about yourself as well!!!