#i do still need to fix the textures so they line up perfectly but so far so good

[lalasimmer]

How to convert Sims 4 3D CAS Rooms to Sims 3

Disclaimer: If you’re not familiar with Blender/TSRW/UVs then this tutorial may not be for you. If you don’t have Sims 4 Studio which needs the Sims 4 base game (or don’t know how to extract the meshes without it) this tutorial may not be for you. Honestly it’s pretty straight forward, but there’s a lot of trial and error and going in game and out of game checking placement, etc. I use Blender 4.1 for this. The older Blender versions annoy me now lol I’m sorry 😅 but you should still be able to do the same things in the older versions. I'm trying to make this as easy as possible. I’m here to answer any questions though 💕 Tutorial below

Things you’ll need:

Blender (whatever version you prefer)

Sims 4 Studio

TSRW ( I use version 2.0.86)

My Christmas CAS Room here

My TSRW work file here

Tutorial:

Find a Sims 4 CAS room that you like and open it up in Sims4Studio. This is the one I'll be using for the tutorial.

In the Texture tab, export the textures. The only textures that matter are the first 3 diffuse. Go to the Meshes tab and export the mesh, it will save as a .blend file. After that you can close out of Sims4Studio.

Open my Christmas CAS Room in TSRW. You'll get this message. Hit ignore and don't send. We only need this file as a reference to resize the SIms 4 CAS room. Export the mesh as an obj, name it whatever you like. You can close TSRW for now.

Open Blender and open the .blend file you exported from Sims4Studio. Make sure to delete studio_mesh_0 as it's just the shadow map and we don't need that. This is what mine looks like after fixing the textures.

Then import the wavefront obj you just exported from TSRW. Again we're just using this as a size reference.

This is what it looks like after I added the obj. I scaled, moved, and rotated the room to match up as close as I could with my reference mesh. When you have it lined up to your liking you can delete the reference mesh. I usually import the sims 3 body to see where my sim would be in CAS as well so feel free to do that too.

Now we have to separate the objects that use transparency in the scene to their own group. The transparent objects will always be located on studio_mesh_1. I usually do this in UV mode. Make sure UV Sync Selection is on. Where the red arrow is, that's the UV Selection button. It's blue so that means its on.

Tip: If you're using the same Blender version I am (I'm not sure if the older versions below Blender 3.0 do this) you can disconnect the alpha in shader editor and then you can easily see what uses transparency because it has a black background like the plants. Don't worry about the one outside the window as that's on the backdrop image and doesn't show in CAS.

Important: Also, make sure you delete the back of the mirror frame or it will show through the mirror in game. I usually select it in the UV editor as well and delete it.

After selecting all the objects that use transparency, I go to the 3D viewport window and press P, then selection. Now they're on their own layer as you can see. That's a very important step so please don't miss it.

Sims 4 CAS Rooms don't have a closed room like ts3 and if you don't add walls/ceiling with planes you'll be able to see that it in CAS. You can do this in any way you're comfortable with. If you don't understand how to do it feel free to ask me. For this tutorial I will not be doing this perfectly lol I've done enough rooms and I'm just trying to teach here 😩

Okay now last is renaming groups to import into TSRW. Make sure it's in this exact order and uses the exact group numbers.

Group 0 - Mirror

Group 1 - Windows/Curtains

Group 2 - View outside the window

Group 3 - Walls

Group 4 - Objects with transparency

Depending on the CAS Room you convert, yours may not have a mirror you know. You can delete groups in TSRW, experiment, feel free to ask me questions as well.

After renaming the groups, select only the groups you renamed and export as an obj. Make sure that object groups is checked so that they can stay in groups.

Open TSRW and open the testroom_cas.wrk file.

After opening the file you'll see this exact room in this tutorial lol because I had to test some things first 😅

Import the CAS room you converted from. You'll get these two messages. Click yes on the first and no on the second.

Import your textures (yours may be different than mine depends on the converter) but most have been the same that I've seen. Group 0 is the mirror it doesn't require a texture. Group 1 and Group 4 usually have the same texture.

After export to sims3pack or export as package file. Make sure you compress your files and you should be good to test your CAS room in game.

If you would like to make your own from the original ts3 cas room, I would suggest watching this Youtube video (it's for TS4 but it still applies and is helpful) and the link to the original ts3 cas room is here. Since we can convert ts4 to ours you could probably just build your own and go from there as well.

Thanks to @mookymilksims for testing things for me and converting her own. If you would like to try this tutorial out and experiment with room placements using @boringbones Ultra wide CAS mod which changes the field of view in cas so that you can see the whole cas room, it is here. I didn't use it for mine, but that's only because I found out about it after from Mooky lol and I'm tired of converting them 😅 but feel free to ask me any questions if you need help 😊

[saint-nevermore]

held off on posting this cutie since i wanted to get a render and short animation done, but once again i got carried away! a 3d model of Kulindadromeus as a late Kulinday piece. this ended up turning into some intense rigging practice learning IKs and such, and he still needs a polishing but i'm pretty pleased with how he turned out. Kulindadromeus was described 10 years ago this month!

[manicpixiefelix]

These specific gifs of Louis Garrel in The Dreamers makes me think of Felix Catton and his oral fixation 🚬

also just makes me think of an OC in the Head Heart Hand 'verse who's a French friend of the L/N Siblings. By which I mean, they're friends with benefits and they still have that chemistry which makes Fi jealous.

Jamie had been working as the assistant to a renowned stylist when he'd first met the siblings, at least that's what you all tell Felix when he shows up at Oxford a week and a half before a gala event you and Oliver had been complaining about for a week already. Now his old boss simply works with your parents, and Jamie works with the two of you. Jamie is beautiful and well dressed and you and Oliver interact with him in a way that makes Felix feel a spike of jealousy whether he sees the casually affectionate way you all touch each other.

He's perfectly polite and incredibly warm to Felix, even affectionate at times - what beauty you've found, my loves, is the first thing he'd ever actually said when you introduced Felix to him - but occasionally his voice drops low and teasing as he says something to either you or Oliver that makes Felix wish he understood less French. Because he really didn't need to know just how unprofessional your relationship really was.

Christ some of the things he'd overheard were absolutely fucking filthy. Its also incredibly hot, yes, but that just makes him more conflicted.

"Is something wrong, lovely Felix?" Jamie's voice is quiet but vaguely distracted as he's taking Felix's measurements. Felix was going to be attending the gala with you and Oliver; it'd be the first of many, and Jamie was more than happy to pull together a look for him too at your request. He's got a cigarette poised between his lips, but Felix is looking at the roof, because if he looks at Jamie he's going to think about all he'd been overhearing in the past few days. You all think he doesn't understand, clearly.

"No problem," Felix lies and hopes it's convincing. Like he's not thinking about how the gentle hands sizing him up have pressed you up against the walls of countless dressing rooms, or been wrapped around Oliver so many times that he'd apparently lost count, "no problem whatsoever." If he bites any harder on the stem of the lollypop in his mouth he's pretty sure it's going to break.

Jamie hums non-committally, but Felix knows he doesn't believe him. Still, the next thing he asks is if Felix had any specific clothing textures that bothered him - like the darling siblings do, he clarified - and Felix thinks for a long moment. He doesn't think so, at least none he's adverse to, but -

"No no," Jamie cuts him off, "you will feel luxurious in my clothes," he assures, leaving no room for argument, like it's an order, "you will trust me. But you're saying there's nothing I could put you in that would make you want to rip it off your skin immediately because it would feel bad?" Felix shakes his head, mouth pressed to a thin line. Jamie fixes him with a coy smile, petting his cheek, "you make me feel lucky, lovely Felix; you make a beautiful muse." The genuine compliments make him feel worse for the blatant jealousy.

So maybe Felix makes a point of sticking close to you and Oliver more than was strictly necessary, at the pubs each night and the club when you all finally head to London on the weekend of the event.

"Jealous boy, look at him," he hears Jamie mumble in French as you've all occupied a roomy bathroom stall to do a few lines of coke. Felix's got you in his lap, lips against your shoulder while Jamie's leaning against the wall with that beautiful fucking smirk. You and Oliver both giggle, and you turn and press a kiss to Felix's temple while your brother takes the mirror and rolled up bill from your hands.

"You're making him jealous on purpose," you respond in kind. Jamie's gaze on you is close enough to leering that Felix can't help but start pressing soft kisses along your shoulder and neck.

"Can either of you blame me?" But Jamie still looks away, grin widening as you turn properly to meet Felix in a messy, passionate kiss, "obsessive little lovers you both are, always have been," he accepts the mirror from a grinning Oliver when it's offered, "maybe I should be jealous of lovely Felix."

"Maybe you should be," Felix breaks the kiss, turning to Jamie with a challenging look in his eyes as you mutter a flustered 'ohmygod' and Oliver gives an embarrassed giggle. All three of you come to realise that Felix has been fully aware of everything you've been saying since Jamie had arrived.

Jamie himself just smiles wider, meeting Felix's challenging gaze almost like he's proud.

(also Jamie falls for Farleigh pretty much the minute he sees him btw. Like Oliver fell for Felix in the film, Jamie sees Farleigh and is immediately enraptured. He asks him if he's done any modelling as the first thing he says after his name (and is delighted when Farleigh admits that he has, back in the states). Farleigh is at first bewildered by the attention - he's pretty and self aware but this is the kind of attention Felix usually got, it feels strange receiving it, rather than observing it - but quickly finds himself enjoying the attention. But also there's something very beautiful about Farleigh and Jamie together, they probably have a little fanclub of their own. They buy each other drinks at the pub like it's a competition half the time, but they end up side by side on the leather booth by the table, definitely too close (in much the same way that you, Felix, and Oliver often were, even surrounded by the rest of your friend group) tipsy and flirting in French while half their friends just kind of admire them.)

[improbable-implosions]

This one's kinda funny, I went into affixing that patch SO sure that the design of that sword of mine, Arma, would be plenty for that patch, but the longer I stared at it doing other mends for these pants, the longer I felt it needed _something_ else, you know?

First up, we've got to stitch on the patch itself! I did some nice even straight stitches, because initially, I was planning on a little area of sashiko mending.

But, in looking at the size of the chunk of dissolvable backing I had cut, there wasn't really any patterns immediately springing to mind that'd work at a scale that small, or, so I thought after seeing how that basketweave pattern came together on an earlier piece. For context, the whole patch is roughly the size of the palm of my hand, at 3.5 inches square.

So, instead, I decided to try something a bit more complex to render than I'd really tried out before, this art of Arma! (Despite the sword's design being my work, the art in question is by @razzmatazic, who I did ask if I tried to trace, and she had no problems!) And so trace I did, tracing the outlines of the major features of the piece, namely, the outer lines, and the shapes of the gemstones.

Unfortunately, in my haste (and, admittedly, my focus, since this was much higher detail than I normally tackle around here), I didn't grab any in-progress shots of this. Still, I actually really enjoy how this came out looking, even if it doesn't perfectly evoke the design or detail of the original piece, it certainly emulates the look of Arma well enough I recognize it, and very visibly reads Cool Sword, y'know?

Next up were a few colorful rims around the edges of the front pockets! They were fraying pretty significantly, so not only does this add a fun splash of color, but it keeps me from picking the edges of these seams apart while I'm not thinking about my hands. Initially, I was going to pick a different set of colors than that turquoise and purple, based on a fun fact about my hometown, but that color scheme was just calling out to me! I decided to lean into the somewhat royal vibes and went for a different, lighter purple, with two little bits of yellow thread, which, fun fact, I actually dyed with some yellow flowers I foraged back in the boston area!

As for these two little spot-mends, they were really more an exercise in frustration. Really, I'm mostly miffed the thread broke on the original patch in the one place the hole kept trying to expand through, but hopefully that little bit of randa stitching (which looks MUCH more like randa stitching should than my previous efforts, namely on my wallet and that previous pair of pants that we detailed, the ones with the segaihana sashiko) alongside some additional reinforcement along the edge of that original yellow patch, made from some thread I scavenged from a fraying bit of denim, should keep this particular pair of shorts from getting any more fixes right on the edge of the patch that has misbehaved TWICE now!

Last but not least, while I was wrangling those pocket rims and the spot mends, I really just had the feeling that Arma would look kinda... lonely, I suppose? Centered in the framing straight stitches like that, so I improvised a little open book next to her! (She's not a sword-girl, promise, it's she/her like you'd she/her a boat) There's actually some really nice dimensionality to the book, too, with some looser stitches to emulate ruffle-able pages, and those two knots along the spine make for a pleasant, crinkled texture to the cover lines! Can you tell I'm pleased with myself for getting that just so, without any guides?

All that said, hopefully that's all the mends my poor poor jean shorts need, I swear, just as I get one set fixed, the other winds up with another hole! Don't get me wrong, I'm starting to enjoy the whole almost boro-like vibe they're developing, with all these overlapping mends, but I'd like them to develop it slower, thanks! (And yes, I do plan to wear these at LEAST until they look like I've quilted them back together, they're comfy!)

[hellssheep]

I may need some help from someone who can review the story. Here is the first chapter to get you started (copied from my Google Docs). let me know what corrections i should make to the story, and enjoy the first chapter.

chapter 1: Awake and Aware

Wooly was the first to wake up from his slumber, staring at the ceiling for a bit before finally sitting up from his bed to look around his surroundings. There was one large window on the wall where the headrest of his bed sits against it. Despite the blinds being closed, the vibrant gold light of the morning sunrize ignites it, making the room much easier to see. Sitting between the windows are wooden nightstands fitted with their own drawer and topped off with a vintage lamp and a glass of water. It looked like the so called ‘animators’ finally put more effort into making the environment more detailed to the point where the lighting and texture look so real. 

Wooly then fixed his gaze on the bed parallel to his on the other side of the room. On the bed, there lies Amanda still sleeping peacefully in an uncomfortable looking position; her one arm is thrown across their face while her other arm is stretched out, and her left leg hangs off the edge of her bed. Yet, she is still completely at ease by the way she is steadily breathing and is laying almost perfectly still.

Wooly shook his head, still waking up from a dream he had before he woke up, only to be met with the feeling of weight hanging off his head. He could barely remember what he dreamt about, only remembering the feeling of floating, the light of lined up candles, an empty room, the sound of running footsteps, and trees passing by a window of a car. Everything else is either a blur or pitch black. Dreams can be a strange thing, with them being so abstract yet formed into something only our imagination is capable of making and throws logic out over the cliff. If only he can remember it more clearly, because it would make a pretty good story to share with somebody. Something about that dream feels important despite it not making sense, but it seems too nonsensical for Wooly to care about at that time.

Wooly reached out and grabbed the glass of old water and took a sip from it, then made a face of mild disgust. The stagnant liquid tastes too stale for wooly to enjoy, so his reaction was reasonable. He got off the bed, with his head still feeling heavy, and went toward the door with the glass still in his hand. There were two chests on both ends of the wall the door shared it with. Wooly didn't want to check them out yet in the concern that he would wake Amanda.

 He slowly and silently opened the door, hoping that there's at least something on the other side of it. His hopes come true, because he is met with another door on the other side of the carpeted hallway. On his left, there was a wall with only an abstract painting decorating it. Above the painting is a trap door that probably leads to the attic. On his right, there or two more matching doors and the hallway leads to the living room slightly lit up by the color of amber.

He decided to enter the door across from the room he slept in, gently opening it as if there could be someone else in the house. It's a silly thing to do if the only truly sentient thing in the show is himself and Amanda. He looked through into the dark windowless room, and was able to barely see that there was the basic bathroom essentials; a toilet, bathtub with blue shower curtains, laundry basket fitted with a lid, a picture above it, and a sink with a mirror above it and a plastic folding step stool below. He turned on the light to see that the painting above is that of a cute little sheep under the tree atop of a hill.

Wooly went up to the sink with his stale water glass, and positioned the step stool so he could use the sink to fill it up with fresh cold water. Once wooly stepped up on top of the stepstool, he finally looked up to see the horrors staring right back at him from the sink.

______________________________________________________________

“Aaaaaaaaaa!”

A familiar scream has woken Amanda up, followed by the sound of glass breaking. She got up and noticed the environment. The room looked too real for it to be from her prison she called her home. What episode is this setup supposed to be about?

There was light, brighter than the fading sunrise, creeping out from the opened door. She quickly went through that door to see what happened. Was it something that spooked the intruder? She went through another that led to the bathroom, only to be met by a wet puddle she almost stepped on, a cup broken into two pieces, and a… Wooly?

“Wha…” was the only word she muttered when she saw a sheep in shock. Is that really wooly that was staring back at Amanda. It surely looked like him, but the only difference is that he has a set of six horns, three on the watch side of his head. The largest horns are ram-like, and looped around his ears, while the other two horns that are sitting behind them are much smaller. one of his ears is holding an orange tag with lettering she could barely see from the distance. This sheep even has a wool-covered tail long enough to hang above and behind his bipedal hooves.

“What happened to me amanda?!” he yelled. Yep, that's wooly alright.

“I don't know wooly! How could this happen?”

“I don't know! I was hoping you would know!”

“I have nothing to do with it! I don't think I have the power to do that, let alone remember how you end up like that!”

“Well I'm sure horns don't grow overnight like this”

“Yea, neither do tails”. Those four words are enough to quickly turn and look behind him. Seems like he hasn't noticed that he had a tail until now.

“Oh gods.” wooly responded with. He looked back at the mirror and looked at his new head features. He touched the tag, feeling the burning sensation from his inflamed ear. Reading the tag, it depicts a simple upside down pentagram with the numbers 666 written under it. He then looked in his mouth and noticed that he had a set of teeth that came with sharp canines. “Oh gauds!” he repeated, with his words a little messed up as he moved his lip around with one finger to see his teeth a bit more. 

It's a strange sight to see a character model with teeth like that, but at least they are oversimplified toonish teeth instead of realistic looking ones. Wooly looked a bit more intimidating with those fangs. Wooly is also freaked out by the new features.

“Calm down wooly.” He told himself. “Hopefully, this will be over in the next episode”

“Um… that's the thing, wooly. I don't think we are in the show anymore”

Wooly turned around towards Amanda with a concerned expression “what?”

“Well, take a look around.” she told wooly, widening her arms as she looked at the environment. “This place looks too real to be our cartoonish world”.

“ I can't believe this.” Wooly muttered to amanda. “Are you saying that…we…are in the real world?”

“It looks like it. I can't use my limited abilities to change the environment. I can only do that in the tapes”

Wooly was silent for a bit.”If we really are in reality,” He breathes in deeply, then out. He finishes his sentence turning towards the sink once more “Then this is a lot to take in”.

“It sure is,” she replied. “But we are finally free from Hamelin, right?”

“I'm not sure if we are yet, besides we don't even know if somebody who took us here is one of them or not”. Wooly is making a good point. Who took them to this house? What are their intentions? For all they know, Amanda and Wooly are probably being kept hostage to make money off of them, or something worse than that.

“If I was part of that horrid company,...” somebody behind them said as they gently pushed the door further. “I could have left you there”. The kids jumped a bit in fright. At the doorway, there was a young adult looking at them with both concern and wonder.

 “Sorry for eavesdropping there guys. It's kinda a habit of curiosity. It did help me out in finding you guys though.” something seems familiar about them, but not from hamelin entertainment. She probably saw them before, like in a library or… attic!

“It’s You! That voice! That Face! You're the one from the attic; the one who played the tapes!” 

“Just call me Riley.” they replied. “And I woke up to your screams. I was hoping that I'd be the first to wake so I could prepare breakfast before you both wake up, but it seems like you beat me to it”

“I'm sorry” Wooly announced. “I woke up to get a fresh glass of cold water from the bathroom sink when i basically got jumpscared by my own reflection and dropped your glass”

“Accidents happen, and I can understand how. You look different”

“Yea, i don't know how i woke up this way”

“Well, if you don't know how it happened, then I don't know either.” Riley

“Then how did you get us here?” Amanda interrupted.

  “I’ll try my best to explain over breakfast” Riley kindly told them. “Watch out for the broken glass on the floor. I'll clean that up later.”.

“Aw yeah, can't wait to finally eat” she Responded. Amanda and Wooly did their best to avoid the glass and water on the floor while exiting the bathroom.

______________________________________________________________

All three of them entered the living room, which is connected to the dining room.Wooly admired how cozy the rest of the home looked. The house is really clean and is filled with things that are a mix between antique and modern. The kitchen had its own island counter. That was the only thing separating the kitchen from the dining room. The dining room had one chandelier that hangs right above an antique but polished wooden table surrounded by four matching chairs. 

Amanda and wooly sat down on the table. Wooly waits patiently for what breakfast Riley has provided them, hopefully it doesn't involve meat. 

“What is for breakfast?” Amanda asked.

“You'll see”. Riley opened up the fridge, the aroma of something sweet reached wooly. The smell is enough to excite him a little. They reached into the fridge to pull out two whole pies, ready to be eaten or warmed up.

“Do you guys like your pies? Cold or warm?” Both agreed to have their pies warmed up. Riley put both the pies in the oven and set it to warm instead of bake.

“What kind of pie are they?” Wooly asked Riley.

“Your favorites; one is apple and the other is peach.”. That's music to Wooly’s ears, which flapped with joy by the news.

“You know us too well,” Amanda joked. “While the pies are warming up, I gotta ask: how did we get here?”

“Hmm. where should i start?” Riley questions to themself quietly.”I guess it all started when Aunt Kate sent me a note to say goodbye and to give me ownership of her house. She also told me about your tapes in the attic and…”

“Wait wait wait! Aunt Kate, as in Kate Park from the Kensdale Public Library?! You are related to her!?” Amanda shouted.

“Yep. that's my aunt alright.”

“Oh my gods. Did she send you to save us!?”

“More like she sent me to finish her work; maybe continuing her legacy outside of library work”

“Riley! I want to know everything you know about my best friend Kate! That explains how you know her name. I thought it was just coincidence”

“I thought you knew”

“Nah. i thought you were a friend of Kate”

“Anyways, where was I…” Riley continued their story while Amanda listened. Wooly is stuck with his own thoughts. Wooly has always known Kate a little, since she was the one that promoted Sam’s series.ever since Kate died, Wooly has a hard time trusting people, always anxious about trying to protect Amanda from triggering her entity. He is not good at sensing people’s intentions, especially those outside the tapes. When you are made and mistreated in what's basically a lab environment, you won't know who to really trust.He knew she had a niece or nephew, but Wooly didn't know they were one of them. Perhaps he can trust Riley, since they are family to Kate, right?

The timer for the oven went off, interrupting the story Wooly wasn't paying attention to. “Oh right. Forgot about the pies” Riley told themself. They got up from the table and went to the oven to take out the fruit-stuffed pastries. Riley, using separate pie cutters, took a slice from each pie and put it on a plate for them. Riley gave the slices to the kids, making sure they didn't mix them up. “There you go guys. Enjoy.” Wolly took a bite from his pie. It is a perfect combination of a sweet and juicy fruit, buttery crust, and a hint of spices. The flavors are comforting and nostalgic. 

“MMMMmmmm. This gotta be one of the best pies I have ever had.” Amanda complimented. “Did you make this?”

“Yea, with my aunt’s recipe. I pre-baked the pie after I got you guys out of that facility.”

“Hold on a sec. A facility? Is it part of the story you were telling?”

“Oh right, the story. I should continue where I left off.”. Riley clears their throat before continuing the story. “After checking out the tapes at the library, I followed the clues that led me far from home and to what looked like one of their research facilities. I have seen some strange things there. Very strange cult shi… stuff. I think they were studying demons and celtic relics like the crown of the stag and whatnot. I looked around until I saw both of you get dragged out of a room. Those scientists looked beaten up for some reason, and you guys were unconscious when they locked you up in an empty room. I swiped their keys and research data, grabbed you guys and escaped without them knowing.”

“That was impressive,” Wooly told Riley. “But you didn't have to go all this way to save us. They could have caught you and…”

“Oh shut it Wooly” Amanda chipped in. “I'm really glad you saved us Riley”

“Your welcome, and wooly. I understand your worry, but who knows what else they were gonna do to you if I left you in there a little longer.”

“I didn't mean to sound like I didn't appreciate your help, but…” Wooly paused for a moment to find the right words to use. “But now you could be in danger of hamelin as well. I was hoping you would find someone to help you out on exposing hamelin”

“I will, but I was hoping you guys could be of great help if we worked together as a team. Besides, who else is gonna take care of you guys but Kate’s nibling”

“I suppose so. How far are we from when you got us?”

“It was a 5 hour drive back home. Had to go past a few towns from there.”

“Sounds like it's gonna take a while for them to find us as long as we keep a low profile.”

“That's right. But for now, you need to stay here while I go to the market and grab a few things from there.”

“What?!” Amanda shouted. “But I wanna Go with you Riley! It's my first time outside those darn tapes and I want to go see the world, even if it's right in our own backyard.”

“I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that would raise the risk of them finding you if I bring you out where everyone will see you.”

“We can wear a disguise! We will lay low I promise. Besides, Hamelin might break in and take us while you are away.”

Wooly doesn't mind staying home for a bit, and he could probably find activities to do while Riley is gone. Wooly could convince Amanda to stay if Riley still refuses to take them, but he doubts that she would listen. She hardly listens to wooly, even if it's for her safety.

Riley gave in to her pleas “Alright, but you have to listen and do what I say okay? Maybe I will get you something if you behave well. Do you want to come too Wooly?”

“Sure. I guess it would be better than being home alone.”

“Alrighty then. Let me find some stuff both of you can wear.”

“So, what's gonna be at the market?” Amanda asks.

“Just about anything from food to clothes to technology. Every month, shops and small businesses come to the Kensdale market to advertise their products. I think there are Activities for kids there too since this town is full of them.”

“That sounds fun. I can't wait to see what the town has to offer.”

“Okay. i'll tell you the rules when we get there so it's fresh in your mind”

Hopefully she does listen to Riley Park, who is a bigger authority figure than Wooly. I guess it's because Kate was their aunt, her better friend. Can't help but feel a little jealous.

“Quick question wooly. Think your wool can fit in this corset?”

“What?” 

Looks like Wooly got the short end of the stick when it comes to disguises. Amanda giggled a little while Wooly glared at her. Well, it's weather that or being shaved, and Wooly likes his soft wool.

Next chapter

[ckao03]

Okay, I could talk about each of these topics in greater depth, but I'll keep it boiled down or else I'll be typing for a loooong time. If anyone wants elaboration on the following steps or on any particular pieces I've done, let me know and I'll give more tips and tricks later :) Apologies for the formatting, I'm still getting used to posting on Tumblr

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

Step 1: Clean up and prep I start by sanding down leftover pieces and flaws in the model caused by the production process. In traditional model kits, these are pour tabs, flash and seam lines. For 3D printed, these would be pits or bumps left behind from supports and layers lines.

The arm and boots on the left are from a traditional model kit, and have visible tab chunks that will need snipping then sanding. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N on the right needs his supports removed, then sanding. Every piece (minus those with fine texture) gets buffed with 240, 320, 600 and 1000 grit sandpaper/sanding sponges (clear parts and any pieces intended to be painted with clear paints, such as character skin, are additionally polished with a melamine sponge, also known as a magic eraser).

This is to make sure the surface is level and uniform. Any bumps or scratches that aren't removed will show up in the final paint job.

(Note for beginners: It's fine to just remove production remnants and do a little clean up before going to the next step. All that prep is tedious! Just have fun with it for now!)

Step 2: Make sure the model parts fit well together. It's very common for a model to not fit together perfectly right away. Dipping the model in hot water to soften it, then pressing the pieces together usually fixes this. Be careful not to burn yourself! Sometimes drilling and sanding is required. At this point, larger model kits will require drilling and pinning, though most are fine being assembled later just with glue.

Step 3: Primer

I secure the pieces on clips to keep them elevated, and spray them in thin, even layers of primer. Primer is essential, as it is what makes the paint stick to the model. - White primer: Best for anime and cartoon figures, makes colors pop - Grey: For realistic characters, dulls colors down a little. - Black: For metal or specialty products, like Armored Komodo pigments

Primer will make any unresolved blemishes become more visible, so I usually go back to step 1 until I get them all.

Step 4: Clear coat

For an even, level paint job, I spray a layer of Gloss clear coat on every piece, to smooth the surface even more. I skip this for finely textured pieces, so the details don't get filled in. Spray in a well ventilated area with protection!

There are many brands of clear coats. These are my favorites!

Step 5: Paint

I use three kinds of paint:

Lacquer: Expensive, take a little while to cure, must be thinned with a solvent. Sometimes hard to find. Offers lovely effects, is durable and sticks very well. Can be difficult to correct if something goes wrong. *HAZARDOUS, use in a well ventilated or outside area and use breathing protection!*

Enamel: A little easier to find, takes a long time to cure, which sometimes is a benefit, as it can level itself and provide a smoother surface. Must be thinned with a solvent, sticks very well. Most importantly, enamel can be used on top of lacquers and erased without damaging the lacquer layer. *HAZARDOUS, use in a well ventilated or outside area and use breathing protection!*

Acrylic: Great, vibrant colors, easy to find, very affordable! Dries very fast, even faster if you lightly use a hair dryer. Very delicate, prone to scratches and chips. Can be easily stained by other acrylic color. You only need water to thin it!

Left to right: Creos Mr Hobby Lacquers, Tamiya Enamel, Vallejo Acrylics

I usually start with the character's skin first. This is because I paint skin using built up layers of clear colors, to get a sort of 'glow' that shines through to the primer and differentiates the skin from clothing and hair pieces.

Afterwards and throughout the project, I 'save' my work by spraying a layer of clear Gloss or Matte spray. I use an airbrush, so to further protect other parts of my work, I cover the finished pieces in masking liquid and/or masking tape, before spraying the next color. Because Enamel can be easily wiped off of lacquers without affecting the lower color layers, I use this type of paint second. If you use Enamel first, you may run into issues with the underlying lacquer causing paint cracking in the future.

(Note for beginners: Using just acrylics is fine. :) I have painted entire models with acrylic paints obtained from craft stores and Walmart, and had very good results.)

Despite my masking, some enamel paint leaked through on Casey's neck. Masking is rarely perfect, so expect to do touch ups after removal.

Step 6: Face eyes and details

...this is an entire essay on it's own, which will require another post. But I use layers of enamel for eyes, water color pencils for eyebrows, chalk pastels for makeup/shading and acrylics for eye lashes.

I have shaky hands sometimes, so the ability to erase my work and start again is very helpful here, hence why I don't use lacquers for this part.

There are... So many products and colors in this one piece... Step 7: Touch ups then gluing

I typically do touch ups as I go, but now is the last chance to correct anything. Once it's ready, 2-part epoxy or crazy glue (sometimes both) will be enough to get most models together entirely.

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

That's a basic breakdown for my process, though for things like effects, clear pieces and fancier/realistic models, it can get quite elaborate. I don't want to scare anyone away from the hobby, so I'll just say this...

You don't have to do allllll this stuff!! Find a model you love (repainting dollar store figures is a great place to start!), prime it, and slap some paint on it! Just have fun, and then go from there!! My first model was lumpy, and looked like she was painted with nail polish, but I kept going and just enjoyed myself, trying new tips and tricks along the way. The point is to have fun! Make sure to take proper precautions and read product instructions as well, if you choose to use the more toxic products.

If anyone decides to give figure painting a shot, send pics of your projects my way, I'd love to see them!! :D It's always great to have more people in the hobby! And I'm always up for more questions, they might just take me a little while to get to replying.

[idkwhatimdoingbutslay]

Publicly, AO3 is down and I should be writing my next chapter for hunting prize but… I’ll do that later.

Instead, gonna randomly generate words then write snippets for them :)

And the word is…… drum roll please 🥁🥁🥁🥁

The sun. An unrelenting force that was cursed when out and cursed when hidden.

A force Vi wasn’t all that used to considering… well, come on.

And a force Caitlyn loved and a force that loved Caitlyn right back. Making her eyes shine like diamonds and her skin tan so impossibly beautifully.

“Vi, you would adore the beach! We can sunbathe and play in the water and eat all the ice cream we want without being judged. Sand texture can be a bit odd if that’s your aversion, but nothing a solid shoe can’t fix! And as much as I think you being pale as a ghost is just wonderful, your freckles are beginning to fade.”

Caitlyn stands in her bathroom, in front of the massive mirror and its warm and bright surrounding lights in a purple bikini top that Vi’s actively forcing herself not to stare at, a pair of dark blue jean shorts and a cardigan in the same colour.

Vi watches Caitlyn tie her hair up from her bed, resting her chin on her arm as Caitlyn delicately brushes her hair before running her hands through it, getting each strand ready for the purple scrunchie around her wrist.

They catch each other’s gazes in the mirror. Caitlyn smiles, but Vi looks away, not wanting to risk folding at the sight of her.

“Cupcake, I swear to you that suntanning is not a thing to me. We come from a loooong line of vampires who burn at the crisp from just one beam of that thing. My parents hardly knew what the sun was, too busy sucking blood and running from Topside’s crazy amounts of garlic.”

“You’re so ridiculous. A little blush doesn’t hurt anyone,” Caitlyn chuckles, twisting and wrapping the hair tie one last time before her ponytail sits perfectly at the top of her head. “I’ve seen you on the sun many-a-time and you turn out just fine. I could always help you apply sunscreen every other minute if that’s what is required to get you outside.”

Obviously Caitlyn wouldn’t mind running a soft cream all over Vi’s naked back, finally allowing herself to memorize every stroke of dark ink that adorns it.

And of course Caitlyn also wouldn’t mind seeing Vi in swimming trunks and a top that would undoubtedly show off the abdomen she spends so much time working on.

Because Caitlyn appreciates her friend and is willing to take care of her every need if she just asked.

“Plus, we are going to be playing volleyball and I need my favourite hitter there with me. Don’t you want to spike a ball right into Jayce’s face?”

Vi can’t help but hum. Pretty intriguing argument if you ask her.

“Well, I guess I wouldn’t mind that.”

As Caitlyn finishes pulling loose strands out of her updo, allowing them to frame her face before she turns around with impossibly pleasing eyes.

Vi’s strong. She always has been and she always will be.

But Caitlyn… there was just something about her.

She steps forward, crossing the room and standing high above Vi as she doesn’t move, worried her predator can sense fear; still becoming increasingly more queasy as Caitlyn stares, whispering a kind please under her breath, fully armed with the amazing offence of disastrous puppy eyes with a stern insistence hidden in that bright blue.

Vi groans, rolling her eyes as she peels herself off of Caitlyn’s bed, her victor’s growing smile taunting her for her weakness.

[sinfulpetgirlrd]

SFM to Daz3d

I’m a very happy cat I’ve figured out how to get SFM models into daz. It’s a bit of a process but of all 3d programs I prefer daz3d. IMO it’s streamlined posing and iray render ability trumps all Since I spent DAYS on this, I’ma share how to do it cause my memory I’ll forget(also others could probably use it. also gunna be long)

You need(not up for debate lol)

~  A SFM Model ~  Blender ~  Daz3d & Genesis 8( male or female which ever your SFM model is ~  This Blender plug in: (clicky me)  for those who don’t know how to dl from github. Download the top one, the SourceIO.zip its 10.1MB

~ art program to make the cut out textures(like hair, clothing hems etc) ~  Time, cause this takes a hot minuet.  **Set up** 1) In Daz open a new file, load a gen 8 figure(this works for all figures). Do not pose, do not change it’s shape nor add anything to it. Go to Parameters - General - Mesh Resolution. Change resolution lv to base, and shange subdivision vl and render subd level to 0 2) make sure whole figure is selected. Go file - export. Use the drop down; choose blender, change scale to 1%. Make sure your xyz is xyz, daz usualy has it xzy. If they are not checked, check “Ignore invisiable nodes” , “ Write UV ccordinates”, “ Write Normals/ faces/ polylines/ seperateobjects” , “ Write Groups” ,  and “write surfaces”.  3) DL the blender plug in(should have your SFM model as well) 4) In blender (i’m using the most recent version 3.5.0) Go edit - preferences - add ons. Install your add on. When it’s installed hit the check box to enable it.  **Getting the model ready** 1) Clear your blender scene. Import your exported Daz model. (make sure scale is 1, clamp bound is 0, forward axis is -z and up axis is y.) 

2) Import your SFM Model( thanks to the plug in there will be a new import option called Source Engine Assets. From there you want the very top option “Source Model(.mdl) 3) Pose/ rotate the SFM model to match the stance of the Gen 8 model. Get as close as you can. The most important things you need to line up are the feet/ the top lip/ the fingers.  4) apply the skeleton to the model. Select the model, go to Modifier properties - the skeleton and apply. (this applies the pose to the base mesh so you can edit the mesh)

5) hopefully your model has body gruops where nothing is really connected or this part will suck. In edit, you want to seperate by selection: the top teeth, the bottom teeth, the eyes( seperate a left and right. not together), the tongue, any dangaly bits like belt straps, eyelashes(trust me).  5) still in edit take the lips and manually seperate them a bit. If you don’t you wont be able to open the mouth in Daz. 

6) go back to object, select all(minus what you just seperated and the hair) and join it. Go back to edit. Select all, go to mesh - clean up - merge by distance. Now fine tune your mesh in edit and sculpt. Don’t be afrade to subadize, once or twice to get better fits. daz can handel it. You want to make sure the the SFM models top lip and eyes perfectly( or damn near close) match the height of the daz model. 

**Import into Daz**

1) make sure to save all textures as pngs(everything even the normals). 

2) export the model n bits as objs. Select a part to export, make sure “limited to selected only” is checked, scale is 1, forward axis is -z and up axis y. Also check “UV coordinates”, “Normals”, and Materials export.

3) go to Daz, load a gen 8 figure(same gender as what you exported). 

4) Import one of the body parts of your new obj(just do the main body for now). Settings you want are: scale 10,000/ x,y,z/ read uv/faces/polylines/groups/surafces and material libary.  5) in the viewport/scene tab, which ever. select the obj, go to edit - object - fransfer utality. Your source is Gen 8, the target is the obj. No templates or item shapes needed. 

**weight/mesh fixing**

1) hide the gen 8 figure. In the scene tab(has to be here as selecting the obj in the viewport will only select gen 8 not the obj, unless you want to go through the truble of making all parts of gen unslectable) start with the hands as figures with longer than avearge nails can pose issues. Lets do the left hand pinky 3(the tip of the finger). 

2) go to gemoetry editor(tool settins, might have to add the tab from window - panes). Left mb to select mesh, hold control to add, and alt to deslect. if any part of the objs left pinkey tip is connected to any other finger, select it. Set targt group to face: choose group “Lpinkey 3″ and hit assign to target group. Contraz you just changed which group that part of the mesh is grouped under. Do the rest of the model fixing what needs to be fixed. (a good way to see is to just hover over different parts in the viewport) 

3) now go to Node weight map brush. with that pinky tip still select, click general weights. Go over the pinky with the brush your mouse has turned into. Red means full follow, blue/purple/yellow means different degrees. since this is the pinky you want the tip to be fully red. Repeat for the rest of the hands/feet/face. Face will be a bitch. Best way to do this over all is to SLIGHTLY change the gen 8 pose so you can see if anything weirdly distors. face takes a lot of time espically the eyes and mouth corners. have fun lol.  4) import your other attachements(same import settings as the body part we just did). The eyes, the top/bottom teeth, hair/ one obj for each dangly bit. Parent them to the parts they go. (obj top teeth gets parented to gen 8 top teeth, and so on and so on. Also might need to move around a bit/scale up or down).       *Dangely bits, select each one, go to simuation settings - add dforce dyanic setting. With bit still select go to create and make a new dforce modifier weight node. Select the node, go back to node weight map brush. Add map “dforce simultation: influence weights. Use control to remove the weight paint from the portion of the bit that is touching the main obj model. This way you can use simulation to move the bits around after posing.  **Textures**

1) lets start with the main obj we imported. select it and go to surfaces(little drop down to see all the materials).  apply the corrosponding material and normal to the model, do turn off glossy layered weight, unless the piece is supposed to be metal/glass. 

2) cut. Any base materal with empty white space needs to have a cut out created. open the base materal in your art program of choice. (I’m using clip stuido but this can be done much easier in photoshop. Simply turn the white background black and the colored bits of the texture black. Save, and apply to the corrosponding cut out.  Your finally done. It’s a process, like I said but I do not have SFM or poser and I prefer Daz for all things rendering/posing. (don’t think i need to say it but do save as a scene because otherwise you’ll have to do all that work again) 

[fashioneditswebsite]

Easy make-up hacks to elevate mature skin

Our beauty routine can get stuck in a rut while we change our wardrobe in tune with the seasons. It's easy to do, especially if you feel comfortable with the same old products and techniques. "One of the questions I get asked a lot about as a makeup artist, is how best to wear makeup over the age of 40," says Carly Utting, senior artist at cosmetic company MAC. View this post on Instagram A post shared by Carly Utting (@mac_carlyutting) "And truth be told, this will look differently than it did when you were 20." As an over-40 makeup artist and wearer, Utting uses makeup to enhance her features, making them smoother, plumper, or more defined. "As we age, the tone of your skin changes and we tend to loose pigmentation in the lips and cheeks, so this is where I focus on when styling a makeup look for an over-40s client," highlights Utting. Skin prep Skin Prep Aimee Connolly, makeup artist and founder of Sculpted by Aimee, says: "Regardless of your age, a great makeup day always begins with your a skin prep." This is the first step in elevating mature skin "Makeup will apply more seamlessly when using the right base products for your skin concerns – for all skin, hydration is key, and particularly as we age." Before you grab your makeup bag, Connolly says to give your skin the drink it needs with a silky-smooth serum and hydrating moisturizer. Sculpted By Aimee HydraGlo, $34 She suggests a hydrating serum infused with the all-important, skin-boosting ingredient hyaluronic acid for lasting luminosity. Paired with a ceramide-rich daily moisturizer, Connolly says the skin barrier will be strengthened, and moisture will be locked in. "This will prolong your makeup while still keeping your skin hydrated." Foundation MAC Studio Radiance Serum-Powered Foundation $46 "Selecting the best foundation for my skin has been a little like finding my perfect pair of jeans!" says Utting. I've trialed so many over the last couple of years, and my main advice would be to opt for a serum-like foundation or a foundation with lots of skin-care ingredients." She continues: "These foundations not only add radiance and even out the skin, but they treat the skin while you're wearing it." Powder View this post on Instagram A post shared by Sofia Schwarzkopf-Tilbury ❤️ (@sofiatilbury) "When powdering the skin, opt for blurring, finely milled powder," advises Utting. She suggests MAC Studio Fix Pro Set + Blur Weightless Loose Powder for 40+ skin. "This formula will softly blur fine lines and texture, to create a smooth, even base, particularly when applied with a soft medium-sized brush," explains Utting. MAC Studio Fix Pro Set + Blur Weightless Loose Powder, $36 "Packing too much powder onto fine lines can enhance them, but softly brushing powder with a brush works wonders at disguising them!" Blush MAC Glow Play Blush, So Natura $33 Utting says she adores adding a creamy, radiant color to the cheek on 40+ skin. She suggests MAC Glow Play blushers in So Natural and Blush Please for a beautiful flush of color to the cheek. "The formula lends itself perfectly to a skin that requires a little extra TLC, says Utting. "Bouncy and playful, it adds a luminous, healthy, youthful shine." Sculpted By Aimee Cream Luxe Blush $21 Meanwhile, Connolly says Sculpted by Aimee Cream Luxe Blush in Dusty Rose is her go-to shade: "It will add a natural rosy tint to the apples of the cheeks and tip of the nose, without appearing too strong in colour." Lips MAC Prep + Prime Lip, $23 Utting says a lip primer will smooth out fine lines that form on your lips over time. "This means that when you apply your lipstick, your lips look more even and fuller." She says this should be followed by a lip liner in two or three shades darker than your natural lip shade. "Pushing the boundaries of your natural lip line to enhance the shape is a wonderful way of achieving a fuller pout." Texture-wise, Utting says a soft shine on the lips enhances the shape, so she recommends glossing over the top of any lip shade. She suggests going for super creamy glosses that are not sticky, so they stay put and add a beautiful shine. Eyes "Long-lasting cream eye products will always be my go-to choice when creating eye makeup for 40+ clients," says Utting. I particularly love a soft sheen to brighten and lift the eyes. MAC Pro Longwear Paint Pot, Groundwork $26 Connolly adds, "To create an eye-opening effect while maintaining a youthful appearance, opt for natural bronze eyeshadow applied across the eyelid." Sculpted By Aimee Brighten & Define Eyeliner Duo, $16.15 "Enhance definition with a creamy brown kohl liner, particularly suitable for a softer defined eye." She suggests an eyeliner duo with a nude shade on the opposite end. "Which is ideal for brightening the waterline, instantly rejuvenating the eyes." Sculpted by Aimee My Mascara Brown $18 Connolly adds: "Consider switching to a brown mascara, for a softer approach to volumising lashes." Read the full article

[adobe-outdesign]

Thoughts on Munna and Musharna?

I am obsessed with how perfectly Round Munna is. I wanna stick it under my arm and carry it around like a football

Anyway, I've heard some people say that if this line was made nowadays they would've just made Munna a regional Drowzee, but personally I'm happy they get to be two separate lines. First, the two really have little to do with one another beyond just being baku. Secondly, they do a cool thing and acknowledge the two lines as having a common ancestor (complete with the shinies swapping palettes):

And thirdly, I always saw the two lines not as similar to each other, but opposites. The Drowzee line is creepy, the Munna line is adorable. Musharna sleeps almost constantly, while the Drowzee line have insomnia as an ability. Munna evolves into a bigger tapir, while Drowzee evolves into... whatever the hell Hypno is. It makes for two original takes on the same concept and allows both to be fully fleshed out, instead of forcing the two together just because of some basic shared inspiration.

All that aside, while I personally like the Drowzee line more I do like Munna's design quite a bit as well. It always reminded me of some kind of porcelain figurine or something, and the flower patterns work with Musharna's patterns while being unique to Munna (and are a nice callback to that one NPC in Gen 1). I also like how the middle spot where the dream smoke emits from kind of looks like a third eye. I do wish there was more to break up the forehead–maybe another flower or some ears or something–but other than that, it's solid.

It's nice that Musharna stays a tapir for those who just want a bigger version of Munna, though rest assured that it still manages to keep a bit of Hypno's creepiness in there:

fear.jpg

Terrifying eyes aside, I like Musharna even more than Munna. I love how the tapir markings become PJs of sorts, with the floral pattern referenced in the scalloped border and the feet resembling those on onesies. Even the little blush stickers are perfect.

The dream smoke also fixes the issue I was having with Munna's empty forehead, and integrates a neat incense-burned theme in there as well–though unfortunately, it looks terrible in-game. For some reason GameFreak/Creatures refuses to use particle textures in their Pokemon models, so the smoke always looks like flesh and Thank You I Hate It.

Poor modeling aside however, I have no complaints with it. It's cute and sleepy and I want 10.

(Side note: I feel like there was a missed opportunity with not making this line psychic/fairy. I know that not everything pink needs to be fairy-type, but a few yokai-based 'mons are fairy anyway and it would make sense compared to the hypnosis-based Drowzee line being pure psychic.)

Overall, a refreshing take on an old concept with some neat, easy-to-read designs. I like 'em a lot.

[the-fiction-witch]

Somewhere That’s Green P1

TV SHOW THE QUEENS GAMBIT COUPLE: BENNY X READER RATING: SEXY

I parked up beside the street as I usually did, shutting the little beetle off and climbing out, I pushed forward the seats and grabbed the two big bags of groceries holding them tight so as to not drop anything. I shut the door with my foot and headed down the little stairs noticing the darkness damn it the landlord said he'd get it fixed by seventeen and that was yesterday, I'll call him again later. So I headed down again deeper to my little apartment door. I unlocked it and opened it heading inside, dumping my groceries on the kitchen side. I went shutting my door and slipping off my hat and coat, to unpack my shopping as I got stuff that needs the freezer and fridge. I worked away silently for a good while throwing away stuff that had been in my fridge so long it has gone strange these eggs are still okay right? If eggs stink there good like the ones I just bought I grabbed one from the fridge and put it in the water ah. No that's floating like a duck. Okay, eggs are bad. Once I had put everything away I sat down at my table and had a look at my chess board it was exactly as I had left it.

"Meow" I heard which admittedly made me jump a little, I looked up and saw the family black cat wondering out of my bedroom giving me a look of how dare I wake it from it's nap, the cat came and sat on my table with a yawn 

"Hello Percy" I sighed "I leave that little window open because it let's some air in here I do not leave it open for you to come wondering in to sleep on my bed"

"Meow" he whined coming and nuzzling into my neck

"Come on, let's get you back" I sighed scooping the stupid cat up in my arms which he happily accepted I went up slowly doing my best to make sure I wouldn't loose the cat going up the little stairs to the apartment above mine in the first level down from the street instantly I saw it was much lighter now then how I had passed moment ago, I looked and saw the door to the apartment was open and I smiled a little taking in every inch I could.

She stood again the grey stone floor in her little pastel green heels not high heels but I'd say an inch or two of heel with little bows on the front, the stretched nylon of her stockings casting a sheer black over her legs with the white line running up the back of each leg of her stockings seams, she had white petticoats just poking out from under her dress, which was a sweet light pastel green matching her shoes with a slight floral texture to it, she had a little white knitted cardigan around her shoulders and pearls around her neck, her make up done perfectly with her classic sharp precision slightly overlining her cupid's bow as she has always done, her hair down to her shoulders with her sweet curls fresh from hot rollers, a green bow that matched her dress in her hair sitting perfectly in her hair. She was looking for something seeming concerned as she liked up the stairs towards the street 

"Percy? Percy?" She called 

"No need to worry I found him" I spoke up she turned and smiled widely coming closer and taking the cat from me 

"Ohh there you are percy, I've been looking for you forever" she says cuddling him closely "thank you Benny, where was he?"

"Three guesses"

"On your bed again?"

"Bingo"

"Percy you have to stop that" she sighed 

"It's alright, I don't mind bringing him back"

"Thank you, would you like a cup of tea?"

"Uhhh yeah go on then" I nodded 

We headed into her apartment and I was as always taken aback by the place especially when compared to my own apartment just downstairs. She head a lovely little past blue kitchen with stand mixers and little tea towels, her living room a sweet sofa and chair with a small oval table, a large bookshelf impressive it even rivaled my own, her bedroom closed up but I could see thought her own little window the bedsheets made so perfectly with her clothing rail all her dresses in a rainbow order, all of it was old with scuffs and marks where it had all been well used but it all shined sweetly like it had been taken care of, every hole in the sofa or cushioned had been lovingly stiched, the rug cleaned and dried weekly, everything in her apartment was old not her own but she took such good care of it all as she couldn't afford new things. She was such a sweet thing with a long list of struggles.

She moved in here a few years back with her husband, she moved here so she wasn't far from her mother who was very ill at the time. It wasn't long before her mother past and not long after that before her husband left her, she's so sweet and kind even though all the terrible things her cat often wandered down to spend time with me and oftentimes I would make the effort to spend time with her. She set the kettle to make the tea so I sat on the little chair percy came sitting on his little bed beside the sofa, she stood a moment washing up empty milk bottles drying them and then sitting them on the little holder thy usually come in Sitting them by the door. By then he kettle was done so she made the tea and brought it over on the little cups and saucers I took it having a sip as she bought sugar, sitting it on the table, she smiled and sat on the sofa putting her feet up having slipped her shoes under the table.

"So how goes things?"

"Alright, I have some more tournaments coming up just stocked up the house with things" 

"You always stock up then you end up away for three weeks"

"I know. I have a bad habit of that"

"I can keep an eye on downstairs if you like make sure nothing goes bad in the fridge" 

"That'd be lovely y/n."

"You're not going anywhere till after the sixteenth are you?" 

“Uhh no I don’t believe so no”

“Then would you be able to keep an eye on my apartment for me”

“Ohh yeah sure, I mean you do when I go away, where are you off to?”

“Memphis for a week to see daddy”

“No worries, you talking Percy?”

“Of course, Percy has to go see his mummy and daddy too” she giggled 

“Yeah I’ll look after the place for you” I told her “when  are you going?”

“Saturday morning”

“Aww, you packed already?”

“Just a few more things to pack”

“You getting a taxi? To the airport?”

“I have already booked a taxi”

“Okay, but if you're going to be gone then I won’t get your help will I?”

“I suppose not,”

“But I always have your help to make me… feel better and keep my mind on my work”

“Well I suppose we… have time before I go and a little bit of time after I get back, before you go”

“We have plenty of time” I smirked taking her hand…

[nitewrighter]

Pre-Fall fic idea for a slow day: Echo asks McCree to go on a date. Liao thinks it'll be a good learning experience for her.

“...I dunno about this...” McCree straightened the collar on his shirt. Why did he dress up for this? Why did Liao feverishly take notes on her tablet when she saw he dressed up for this?

“I think it’s a great opportunity,” said Liao, poking at her tablet.

“See the way you’re gettin’ all excited about it makes me feel like a guinea pig.”

“Echo likes you. She trusts you. This is a chance for her to rapidly expand her social interaction repertoire.”

“It’s still weird.”

“How is it weird?”

“Well... how does it work with the age thing?”

Liao snorted. “What?”

“I mean she just got the body! Don't that make it... y'know...”

“The frame is new, yes, but the bare bones of her coding are only a couple years younger than you,” Liao said breezily, “Her processing levels were miles beyond yours well before she even had a body.”

“Ouch.”

“It’s computer science, Jesse, it’s nothing personal.”

“Why’d you give her hips?”

“Well, controlling said body actually has massive processing demands on its own, so you could say what could be recognized as her pelvic region hosts an 'auxiliary AI core'--"

"There's a brain in her ass?"

"Arguably, humans have a secondary brain in their colonic region--"

"There's a brain in my ass?!"

"We're getting off topic. There's a secondary AI core focused on mechanical coordination that is housed in her pelvic region, it was large enough to warrant certain design shifts to suit her center of gravity, and I wanted a friendly and appealing silhouette so --” Liao perked up, “So you noticed the hips?”

McCree’s face burned and he glanced off.

Liao rolled her eyes and smiled. “Jesse... if this goes really badly, I can just erase it from her memory.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“I’m only saying, the stakes aren’t that high,” said Liao, "I think it's cute that you're getting nervous."

"Nervous, hell! I just don't know what to make of it!"

"You've had plenty of perfectly pleasant conversations with her--"

"They weren't dates!"

"Did you just say yes because you didn't want to hurt her feelings?" the brightness and absolute lack of accusation in Liao's voice only unsettled McCree further.

"N-no..." McCree rubbed the back of his neck, "I--I wasn't really thinking. I guess... I assumed you'd think I'd wreck it or... or wreck her and you'd... write it out of her code..."

"Interesting..." Liao tapped her tablet stylus on her chin.

"I ain't that good with sciencey shit! Reyes brought me on to shoot things!" McCree shrugged a little helplessly, "And the way you talk about her, I don't know if she's a--a work in progress, or-or your kid so..."

"A little bit of both. This is where AI gets messy," said Liao with a smile, "You don't know if you're making something human... but you get to make something new."

McCree just stared at Liao for a few seconds, opened his mouth to say something, realized he had no idea what to say to that, and then closed his mouth.

"It's going to be wonderful," said Liao, gently putting a hand on the back of McCree's shoulder.

"Wait--Is there anything I should---?" McCree started but the door slid open and Liao more or less shoved him out into Zurich Headquarters' courtyard gardens. It was twilight, Friday night, and strings of fairy lights had been strung around the sycamores, magnolias, and plum trees that decorated the garden. A couple of brightly colored paper lanterns were strung along the lines of electric lights, giving the usual contemplative and monumental air of the garden a more warm and festive feeling. McCree scanned the garden, seeing a table set with candles and a small basket of bread about 15 feet ahead of him.

"Jesse?" McCree heard a familiar voice and swiveled on his heel to see... a glowing blue-white Dolly Parton circa 1974 in a daisy-patterned peach sundress.

"Whuh..." McCree's face scrunched up in confusion.

"Is this okay?" Dolly Parton spoke with Echo's voice and McCree visibly flinched again. "Oh you don't like it--" The glowing Dolly Parton pressed her fingers to her forehead. "Give me a moment! I can fix it!"

"Echo--?" McCree started, but holographic pixels spiraled around the not-Dolly Parton and reshaped her into.... Olivia Rai, her usual afro styled into the more-textured Gibson Girl hairstyle she sported in Six Gun Killer. 

"What about this?" said Echo, "Is this all right?"

"I mean I like the movie but--" McCree started but the pixels whirled around Echo.

"Lee Byung-Hun, 2016, Magnificent Seven," said Echo. “My scans of your hormone levels showed an overwhelming positive reaction to him.” Again, this hologram form was still in the sundress.

Okay we really need to talk about the scanning thing, thought McCree, but he just stammered out, "They're all really nice, Echo, but you don't have to--" McCree rubbed the back of his neck, "I mean, I think we'll both be more comfortable if you're... you, y'know?"

"Me? But it's so..." 2016 Lee Byung-hun Echo twiddled her fingers nervously, "It's so..."

"It's the you I know," said McCree, shrugging, "I like it, Echo, really."

The hologram fell away from Echo in a shower of cubic pixels, revealing a partially holographic head on a heavily modified omnic frame. She was a patchwork between a handful of standard omnic parts and sleek parts whipped up on-site at this point. No wings. The sundress sagged a little off her metal frame.

"There you are," said McCree.

Echo smiled a little. "Sorry... the hologram capabilities were for optimal interfacing... so I thought..."

"I get it," said McCree with a smile, "I was a little nervous too."

"You were?!" said Echo, "But you're so... charming! And my scans of your antibodies revealed that it was very statistically likely you have had higher than average amounts of--"

"Hoookay! Moving on!" McCree said quickly.

"Moving on," said Echo, processing this.

There was the sound of a cybernetic throat being cleared and both McCree and Echo turned their heads to see Genji in a long-sleeved collared shirt, black vest, bow tie, and apron.

"Genji?" said McCree, suppressing a laugh in his voice.

"...not a word," said Genji.

"I know I got stuck as the waiter back in Venice but this is--"

"I said not a word!" said Genji, furiously. He drew in a steadying inhale. "Ma'am and sir. If I may direct you to your table."

"...oh this is rich--" McCree started.

"McCree, I know 37 ways of killing you in under 11 seconds, do not test me," said Genji.

"Uh huh," said McCree, "Show us the way, Garçon."

Genji muttered something under his breath in Japanese as he lead them to the table. McCree hurried over to Echo's side and pulled out her chair for her.

"Oh--Thank you!" said Echo, sitting down.

Genji rolled his eyes as McCree took his own seat. "Liao was able to negotiate with the headquarters chefs,” he said, setting glasses of water on the table, “You're getting chicken scallopini and asparagus."

"So there's not a menu--?" McCree started.

"You're getting chicken scallopini and asparagus," said Genji, with about as much murder as anyone could inject into the words 'Chicken scallopini and asparagus.'

"Okay," said McCree meekly as Genji walked off briskly.

"Er--don't mind him," said McCree as Genji walked off, "Blackwatch suspended... getting antsy, y'know."

"I don't," said Echo, equally pleasantly and blankly.

McCree cleared his throat and grabbed some bread from the basket between them, buttering it. "Well... You heard about the Venice incident, right?"

"I did not," said Echo, "I'm quarantined from most networked systems."

"Mm," McCree took a bite of his buttered bread, "Well... the long and short of it is, we fucked up."

"Not you!" said Echo on reflex.

"Well, not me, at first--but we had to follow through on the fuck-up if we were going to get out of it alive," said McCree with a shrug.

"I'm sure you did your best," said Echo, picking up a piece of bread. They both knew she couldn't eat, so instead, she seemed to be using it as something to do with her hands, breaking it off into bits.

"Eh, I don't think any of us were at our best," said McCree, "But... you do what you can, right?"

""Mm-hmm," Echo nodded, "Doctor Liao's been able to convince a handful of operatives to bring my AI processor on the orca with certain missions to observe, but my speech is disabled. Apparently it 'freaks people out.'" Echo glanced off resentfully.

"Not you?" said McCree.

Echo nodded. "And I know Morrison doesn't like me learning combat tactics."

"Echo, I can't think of anyone who loves humanity more than you," said McCree.

"Thank you, Jesse," said Echo. She was silent for a few beats. "And.... thank you for doing this. I--I don't know how you see me..."

"I'm still figuring that out too," said McCree, smiling a little, "But... I like to think I'm a good judge of character. And I'm proud to know you. And I'm proud that I mean enough to you to be here."

Echo's hologram face brightened, and she glanced off, a bit bashfully. "I--I can't even eat bread," she said quietly, smiling as she glanced down at the small pile of shredded bread bits on her plate.

"Psh. Bread. You can turn into whoever you want. Why worry about bread?" said McCree.

Echo snickered a little.

"...who's your favorite to turn into?" asked McCree, "I know you were turnin' into all that stuff earlier for me because of all the stuff we talked about and those dumb movies we watched--”

“I don’t think they’re dumb--”

 “But... what about you? Is there a person you like turning into?"

Echo thought for a few seconds. "I would say...Figure skaters," she said thoughtfully.

"Figure skaters?" McCree repeated.

"Not any individual one, but I’ve been putting together a composite hologram of several of them," said Echo, "Skaters, they--they aren't ruled by the same physics as other humans. All that power, all that grace, all on a plane that does not have the same rules of speed or friction."

"Bet you'd be a hell of a dancer," said McCree, smiling.

"I like to think I'm learning," said Echo, with a slightly smug shrug.

"Chicken scallopini," a plate clanked unceremoniously in front of McCree and McCree flinched to attention to see Genji next to him.

"Jesus, man! A little warning next time!" said McCree.

"Ninja," said Genji flatly.

"What about her?" said McCree, pointing at Echo.

Genji looked at him like he was an idiot.

"Jesse, it's fine," said Echo. She waved her hands and a hologram of what appeared to be lobster thermidor glowed into existence in front of her.

"...she can take care of herself," said Genji, walking off, "Let me know if you need a refill on water."

"Don't mind him," McCree said again.

"I don't," said Echo, materializing a holographic fork into existence and taking a holographic bite of her holographic food.

McCree sectioned off bites of his own meal and took tentative bites and chews, but it was good. A faint 'Mm' fell out of him and he opened his eyes to see Echo closely observing him. He took another bite, not taking his eyes off of Echo this time. Echo seemed to do the same, imitating him. But it wasn't quite the same, he observed. There was a lot of Liao in her, the way she'd stuff food off to one cheek and slowly parse it out as long as she needed while she multitasked. He saw it in all the nights Liao had brought takeout to the lab. In this case, Echo perfectly adapted Liao's eating habits to McCree's.

McCree swallowed hard. "Do you ever uh... make food... make you happy?"

"What do you mean?" said Echo.

"Well, if you eat really good food, you go, like, 'mm' and stuff--if all the food is only stuff you come up with... how does that work?"

Echo thought for a few seconds. "I... never thought of food as stimulating the pleasure response. Mostly it just seemed necessary for interfacing. Does it stimulate a pleasure response?"

McCree tried not to focus too hard on the words 'Pleasure response.' "Well, it depends on the food," said McCree.

"Does your food stimulate a pleasure response?"

"I mean compared to the rest of the shit I've had this month? Definitely," said McCree with a shrug.

"I see," said Echo. She looked at her food for a few seconds. She took a bit of her own holographic meal and a deep, sensual "Mmnh," bloomed out of her, her shoulders bunching up and her head tilting back with the sensation.

McCree sharply inhaled, realized his mouth was full of chicken scallopini, and coughed and choked for nearly a minute.

"Did I do it wrong?!" Echo asked with alarm.

"N--" McCree coughed, "No--" He coughed again, "You're-- You're doin' fine--"

Echo giggled. “I--I’m sorry, I’m still deciphering the appropriate forms of human pleasure.”

McCree found his face burning again and just gulped down some of his water.

“...that was an odd thing to say,” said Echo, glancing off.

“Nah, I’ve been told I’m old-fashioned a lot,” said McCree with a dismissive hand wave.

“Well, that’s why I like you,” said Echo, shyly.

McCree’s chews slowed.

“You... feel solid. I know I can trust you to... to tell me what you think... but.. also to be kind. I don’t know what other people want from me, but I know you just want another person. And... you’re very open in terms of what that person can be.” 

“Well I can tell you you don’t need to be Dolly Parton to win me over,” said McCree with a shrug and another bite of his food.

Echo giggled again and McCree swallowed.

“I’m still not sure if I’m doing this right,” said Echo, smiling down at her own hologram food. 

“Eh, you don’t really think of it in terms of ‘doing it right’--it’s mostly just about both of you having a good time. And trust me, you’re a better date than a lot that I’ve had,” said McCree with a snicker, “I just hope I’m doing it right too, y’know? It’s a lot of pressure, being anyone’s first date.”

“Oh!” Echo perked up, “I never thought of it that way....”

“Am I doing it right?” said McCree with a slight lopsided smile.

“Hmm...” Echo seemed to genuinely and very seriously ponder this.

“Oh come on, you’re making me nervous!” said McCree.

“Current assessments are... positive,” said Echo, “More data may be necessary to confirm any findings I’ve drawn thus far. We may have to do this again. An experiment is useless unless you can replicate its results”

“So... second date then?” said McCree, “That’s generally considered a good sign.”

“Oh! So I’m good at this!” said Echo.

“Sure are,” said McCree with a snicker.

Echo beamed. 

“Think we might have to do something other than dinner next time, though. I think if we try to get Genji in a waiter outfit again, he may actually kill me.”

“I estimate by his hormone levels and body temperature that there is an 89% likelihood of that occurring, yes,” said Echo. They both laughed for a little bit, and as the giggles died down Echo tilted her head. “So... you’ve been on bad dates?”

“Oh, terrible dates--but I don’t want to bore you---”

“It could be very useful data!” said Echo with that same brightness Liao had shown when she saw McCree being nervous.

McCree rubbed his chin. “Well... there’s a couple funny stories....”

-----

McCree was humming when he arrived in the Blackwatch sector later that night, bobbing his head and shoulders a bit with his humming as he loosened his bolo tie and took off his hat.

“Sounds like someone had a good time,” Reyes was seated in front of Blackwatch’s main monitor, mindlessly leafing through some paperwork.

McCree barely interrupted his own humming with an “Mm-hmm” as he kept walking past. 

“Reyes, you really must find a way to end Blackwatch’s suspension, or I fear he’ll romance one of the custodian’s vacuuming bots, next,” said Moira, leaning against the desk next to Reyes.

“Eh, if it means getting Genji in a bowtie again...” Reyes shrugged.

“You will never get me in a bowtie again,” Genji seethed from a shadowed corner.

“You asked for a mission--” Reyes started, but cut himself off as the three of them watched McCree continue to walk and hum down to his own quarters.

“...by god, I think he actually had a good time,” Reyes said quietly.

“Madness is setting in,” Moira mused.

“We need to get out in the field again,” Genji said, his voice tense.

“Or maybe you just need a date,” said Reyes shrugging. Reyes heard the audible click of the shuriken plate on Genji’s arm as Genji’s shoulders tensed up. “...or not.”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

The Queen of Underland: Izzy

CW: Panic attack, child of recovering adult whumpee, anger as trauma response, referenced noncon kissing and touching (nonsexual), childhood bullying, referenced past domestic and child abuse, some gendered and ableist insults (kid to kid and nothing too intense - just fair warning)

Izzy, at nine years old, has been free with her family for almost five years now, and her mother has been in prison on a life sentence for two. With attention, affection, and therapy, she has blossomed into a quiet kid who nearly always has her nose in a book.

When two classmates try to put her in the center of a storm, Izzy finds something inside herself that she has pushed down for so long she had nearly forgotten she ever had it.

Izzy finds her father’s anger.

Jax Gallagher belongs to @comfy-whumpee and is used with permission.

---

Izzy sits at her desk, perfectly still, reading a book while the teacher’s out of the room speaking with another teacher in low voices, just in the hallway. The sun shines in the windows that line the wall, lighting the pages of her book, and one of Izzy’s hands rubs repeatedly over the seam down the side of her uniform skirt, the only movement she makes beyond her eyes.

Around her, the others are whispering, passing notes and giggling (except for Noah, who has his own book open, and Jack, who is drawing his story about giant killer robots in a notebook, and Sarah, Jack’s twin sister who is trying to build a tower of pencils and paper), but Izzy barely notices them.

When the teacher comes back in, Izzy will not be whispering, or giggling, or doing anything that might bother her. When the teacher comes back, Izzy will be quiet, and good, and put her book back into her desk and look up with her hands in her lap. She’s the quietest kid in class, she heard the teacher say so.

At home, she’s not always quiet anymore, but at school she still holds a balance, protecting herself and keeping herself safe in the best and truest way she knows - by simply being exactly what the adults need her to be, and keeping all her real feelings and thoughts inside her head.

Still, while the teacher’s out of the room, she takes a few minutes to read while she has the chance. Her heart beats cold and heavy in her chest as she scans over the words on the page, biting down on her lower lip, worrying at a bit of chapped skin. Her left hand settles over the soft texture of pages nearly yellowed with time spent in the school library being held by hundreds of small hands. The fingers on her right hand feel over the seam of her skirt, right along the outside of her leg, again and again.

Fierce anxiety, and a little fear, swirl inside her for the characters that exist only in ink and her imagination.

Two Earthmen entered, but instead of advancing into the room, they placed themselves one on each side of the door, and bowed deeply. They were followed immediately by the last person whom anyone had expected or wished to see: the Lady of the Green Kirtle, the Queen of Underland. She stood dead still in the doorway, and they could see her eyes moving as she took in the whole situation—the three strangers, the silver chair destroyed, and the Prince free, with his sword in his hand.

“I think I like Karissa,” Henry Fitzgerald, who sits at her left, says to his best friend Kevin Magden - not to be confused with Kevin Michaelson, and didn’t the teacher sigh over that sometimes. He has to speak over and around Izzy’s head. 

“Like, like like her?” Kevin Magden asks, sounding half-horrified, half-fascinated. Izzy fights not to roll her eyes, and tries to focus back on her book, on the entrance of the Queen, on the Prince freed but faced with great danger.

The Queen of the Underland, the lady who held the Prince in the dark for ten whole years, that’s older than Izzy even is. Coming into the room to find the children and the Prince, and her having no control any longer. 

She turned very white; but Jill thought it was the sort of whiteness that comes over some people's faces not when they are frightened but when they are angry. For a moment the Witch fixed her eyes on the Prince, and there was murder in them. Then she seemed to change her mind.

“Run,” Izzy whispers, to the children, to Puddleglum the strange marsh creature, to the freed Prince. “Don’t talk to her, just run. Don’t listen to whatever she says, don’t.”

“What are you even saying, Izzy?” Kevin Magden says.

“She’s all in her book like always,” Henry Fitzgerald says, shrugging. He makes some sort of gesture - Izzy doesn’t look up to see it - and the two of them laugh. She doesn’t care about that. The story is far, far more important than they are anyway. “Anyway, Kev, I like-... yeah, I think I like like her. I’m gonna tell her at break.”

“Gross,” Kevin says, but he sounds fascinated. “What if she says she doesn’t like-like you back?”

Henry shrugs again - Izzy can see the movement from the corner of her eye. “Dunno. Maybe kiss her.”

“Gross,” Kevin repeats, much more emphatically. 

Izzy tries to keep her mind on the page, but shifts uncomfortably in her chair. She closes her eyes briefly, thinking of the Queen of the Underland, standing in the doorway. She imagines her with very white skin and dark, long fingernails, wearing a long dress that brushes the earthen floor, making a soft swish-swish sound as she walks. In her mind, the Queen of the Underland has very bright blue eyes and lots of curly, dark brown hair that is threaded with silver down her back, wild and uncontrolled, like it can reach out and grab you and drag you into the dark with her.

She feels like the Queen is not a stranger to her, and not hard to picture at all. Try as she might, she can’t make the Queen in her imagination look like the description of the Queen in the book. She only ever looks one way - beautiful and wicked, deceptively soft, eyes brilliant and shining too bright when the Prince is in pain.

Will she hurt him, while the children have to stand and watch and can’t save him at all?

"Leave us," she said to the two Earthmen. "And let none disturb us till I call, on pain of death." The gnomes padded away obediently, and the Witch-queen shut and locked the door.

"How now, my lord Prince," she said. "Has your nightly fit not yet come upon you, or is it over so soon? Why stand you here unbound? Who are these aliens? And is it they who have destroyed the chair which was your only safety?"

Izzy can hear the Queen’s voice, musical lilt, simpering sweet and dangerous. Why are you leaving me? How dare you. Come back here, Jax, you can’t leave, you’re mine. 

Kevin and Henry are still talking, but Izzy doesn’t hear them any longer. She’s lost in the panic rising inside of her. Run, she thinks, in a scream, a shout in her mind. It isn’t that she doesn’t understand it’s just a book, but that she is still scared, frightened for the prince whose father had grown older while he was gone, whose family must have missed him so much. She is frightened for the children who do not understand the witch or how to fight her. She’s frightened even for Puddleglum, who only wants to help, to do the right thing. Don’t talk to her, don’t give her the chance, just run. She’ll make you hers again. She swallows - it feels like her heart beats itself right up into her throat, like she is swallowing around it - and keeps reading.

Prince Rilian shivered as she spoke to him. And no wonder: it is not easy to throw off in half an hour an enchantment which has made one a slave for ten years. Then, speaking with a great effort, he said:

“I’ll kiss her even if she doesn’t like me back, anyway.”

Izzy’s breath catches, and she blinks, feeling like she has been pulled out of a spell herself. She looks up, glancing sidelong at Henry, who isn’t looking at her at all, just talking to Kevin. “Hen-... Henry-... what did you say?”

“None of your business,” Henry replies, voice harsh and loud enough to get some of the others to look over at them, and Izzy’s shoulders creep up towards her chin, face burning red. She hates when everyone looks at her, hates it more than anything. Henry looks back at Kevin. “At break, I will. I’ll tell her, and I’ll kiss her, whether she wants to or not.”

Izzy looks back down, but the words on the page run together, she can’t see them any longer, they’re just squiggles, meaningless little lines. What I want just matters more, whispers a nightmare she can never quite feel woken up from. She tries, she really does, to focus again on the book but she sees secondly, she took out a musical instrument- 

Izzy slams the little paperback shut, sticks it back in her desk, and says in a thin voice, “You can’t do that if someone doesn’t want you to, it’s wrong.”

“It’s not a big deal, Izzy, geez.” Kevin on her other side speaks up now, and between them she feels like she’s being battered, tossed on a sea, shoved down, locked in the dark. Izzy stares down at her desk, then, letting her eyes lose focus on the wavy colors in the polished wood. Light brown, almost auburn, and darker brown, almost a chocolate color, very like the hair on Izzy’s own head, clipped short and spiky.

Very very like the wavy, thick curls that ran down her mother’s back, that smothered Izzy in the smell of her shampoo and perfume. 

“It is a big deal,” Izzy whispers. “It’s wrong, to make someone kiss you. It’s wrong. It-... it hurts them. It matters what they want, too.”

“Ugh. It's just a kiss. You’re bonkers, you know that?" Henry leans over, almost in her space, and Izzy sits back as far as she can until she presses her back hard into her chair, enough to hurt. “Absolutely mad.” 

“No, I’m not,” Izzy mumbles, but panic twists even worse inside her. Is she? Her mom is. Isn’t she? Don’t you have to be, to be evil? Dr. Marty says no, that those two things are totally separate and people are just bad at understanding that people can be really, really, really bad and still be sane - that bad people almost always are - and Dr. Marty knows everything about crazy and not-crazy, that’s his whole job, and she’s not like her mother anyway, she’s not. 

“Are so,” Henry taunts, falling easily into the familiar cadence of mockery, and Izzy’s face burns brighter and hotter as the room begins to fall quiet, other conversations falling away as the others realize there might be some entertainment now. Her breath comes faster, and she closes her hands into fists at her side, fighting to control the way the fear and a new rise of anger start to twist around inside her stomach, making it flip, making her feel sick. “You’re bonkers for sure, Izzy Gallagher.”

“I-I’m not. I’m not, I’m not, I’m not! It’s not right to kiss people who you don’t know if they want to or not! It’s not!”

The room feels suddenly too small, and too big - she can’t escape Henry’s bean-breath and she can’t run far enough to get to the door, she can’t run at all. Some small voice inside her demands she stay still, shut her mouth, never talk again. She should have just finished her book, seen how the Prince would escape the Queen of the Underland, seen if the children help him or just weigh him down, one more bit of stone tying him to Underland and maybe he wishes he could just leave them behind, if they bother him, if they’re no good-

“Ewwwww, who would want to kiss Izzy?” A girl near her wrinkles her nose - Lindsey Smith, Izzy’s brain supplies, in an airless dizzy spin of details that aren’t important but she can’t stop circling around. “She looks like a boy.”

“Hey, back off.” Izzy, surprised, glances over her shoulder to find Noah Hawkins looking up from his own book, eyes narrowed. “Izzy’s hair is cool, and it’s cooler than yours anyway, Lindsey-kins. You just wish you looked as good as she does.”

“Shut up! You just say that because you’re a boy, of course you think boy hair looks cool.” Lindsey sticks her tongue out, crossing her arms in front of herself. She has big poofy hair like Izzy’s would be if she didn’t have her dad cut it so short, held back with a clip. Hers is red, though.

“There’s no such thing,” Sarah says from over by the window. “As boy or girl hair, I mean. There’s no such thing. It’s all just hair. Izzy’s hair does look cool. You all should leave it alone, Mrs. Brent is going to be back inside any second and we’ll all get in trouble if there’s fighting.”

“Yeah, Izzy,” Henry hisses at her, leaning in close. Too close. She forgets how to breathe. “Stop causing trouble, Izzy.”

“I’m not,” Izzy whispers. Her face feels like it might light on fire. Her fingernails dig into her palms, until she feels flashes of pain, creating crescents that could take hours to fully fade if she did it hard enough. “I was-... I was just-”

“Just butting in where you don’t belong,” Henry finishes for her. “It’s not your business.”

“It’s-... but, but I just-” Her voice is fading fast, airy and breathless, barely a whisper. Quiet little Izzy Gallagher, who never stands up for herself, who lets everyone talk to her like this, who never says a word she isn’t asked to say. Her fear batters her with wings inside her chest, but beneath it is something else entirely, trying to rise up and take over her mind and mouth. Anger. She and Dr. Marty had talked about it, about how it was a normal feeling to feel, but every swell of it within her was met by the rising tide of fear in response.

She never lets herself be angry. That would make her like her mother, who was angry so much, and she’s not like that, she’s not. 

She doesn’t think, in the moment, that her mother isn’t the only parent who knows how to be angry.

The thoughts are not conscious. They aren’t driven by any kind of logic, they loop and swirl around each other. They flash bright like light in the back of her mind. She thinks about the story, the book inside her desk, the way the Prince fell upon the silver chair, how he swung his sword in dim light. 

She thinks about the prince walking out the hotel doors with a baby in one arm and a little girl on his hip, a backpack heavy against his back, into the sunlight outside. She can remember the way he breathed quick and shallow against her hair, the racing of his heart as he asked her to be very quiet, and very brave. She didn’t know he was scared, he didn’t say it, he was just the Prince, shining in the sunlight, asking for directions to the train station and going in a suit to court later and the silver gave way before the sword’s edge like string, and in a moment a few twisted fragments, shining on the floor, were all that was left of the chair. 

“But-but-but-but, I just-” Henry is still going, and Izzy’s eyes burn as hot as her face, lips pulling back from her teeth in a grimace like a snarl. “Just shut up, Izzy Gallagher, nobody cares what you think.”

“Don’t be a dick, I care,” Noah says, from the back of the room, his voice getting louder, now. Other students whoop and go ooooh, Noah likes Izzy, but Noah ignores them, and he doesn’t turn even a little bit red. “Izzy hasn’t done anything wrong to you.” She barely knows Noah, he’s in her class but they don’t talk or anything. This is the first time he’s done more than help her with a math problem, this is the first time she’s heard him even talk in class without the teacher calling on him.

But it feels good to have somebody else stand up for her. 

“She’s butting in!” Henry protests, hands up like he’s the innocent one. “Kevin and I were just talking-”

“About kissing Karissa Bellweather!” Izzy half-shouts. “From the other class! You were talking about kissing someone even if she doesn’t want to! You said you would even if she said no! That’s not right!”

“Ew,” Someone says, Izzy doesn’t know who. Her blood is rushing in her ears almost too loud to hear. “Do you like-like Karissa Bellweather, Henry?”

“No! I don’t!” Henry looks stricken. He hadn’t expected her to just say it out loud like that to everybody. “Gallagher’s lying! She’s a liar!”

“I’m not! I’m not a fucking liar!” Her voice is too loud and she claps her hands over her mouth. Don’t cry, she thinks to herself, and her own thought-voice twists into her mother’s sharper edges. Her palms ache and she wonders if her nails have broken skin, but the wonder is faint, and faded. She feels a hand pressed against the back of her neck, the Queen of the Underland’s voice beside her ear. Don’t cry, Bella. You’re so ugly when you cry. Jax, get her out of my sight. 

“Fuck off,” Izzy says, voice trembling. She isn’t really talking to Henry, not anymore. “Leave-... leave me alone.”

“Oooh, what’re you gonna do, huh? Gonna throw some punches?” Kevin is too close on the other side, now. They’re both too close. Izzy’s heart beats all out of time, and when she goes to breathe, it… it doesn’t work. Her breath is stuck in her throat, halfway down. The air just… sits there, and she can’t hitch it in or exhale it. It feels like her throat is closing up, she’ll choke on nothing, black out and fall down. “Bonkers Izzy Gallagher, gonna fight us, are you?”

“I-I could-” Her voice is a whimper, and Izzy closes her eyes. 

“Could not,” Henry mocks, from his side of her. “You’re weak as a puppy. What are you gonna do?”

“Stop-... stop you from talking anymore,” Izzy says, and pushes her chair back with a loud scrape, getting to her feet. She should tell Dr. Marty about the book, she thinks, about the Queen of the Underland. She should tell her father about the Prince tied to the chair, and how he chopped the chair to bits, and she should tell them all about it, nice and safe and quiet at home, and not do what she’s afraid she’s going to do instead.

“How, gonna use something you learned from your mam in prison?” Henry asks, and Izzy remembers, all at once, how to breathe - but it’s all poison. She gulps in air, fear sparking up, her nerves feel like a hundred thousand tiny lightning strikes. She wants to run but she’s at school and there isn’t anywhere to go. 

“Wh-what?”

“My dad says your mam’s famous in the States for being in prison,” Henry says, leaping on this new tactic as the blood drains from Izzy’s face. He’s like animals on the nature shows that James likes to watch at home with their snack, circling a calf all alone. She’s a wounded baby calf, she’s weighing the herd down, she’s not strong or brave enough, she never was. “Did she teach you how to prison-fight? Ooooh, did she show you how to make a-” He jabs at the air, fist closed empty around an imaginary knife. “A prison-blade?”

“Shiv,” Kevin supplies helpfully.

“Right, that. Did your mam show you how to shank someone?”

“I don’t-... I don’t talk to my mom,” Izzy says, half-strangled by her own words. Her head is spinning. Her backpack is so far away. “We don’t-... we don’t have contact-... she doesn’t talk to me, isn’t allowed-”

“Oh, ew.” Henry sits back, and his face lights up with the simple cruelty of wounding someone who looks unable to fight back, of regaining his own stability and distracting everyone from his embarrassment by bringing up Izzy’s shame instead. “Are you so awful even your mam doesn’t want to talk to you?”

No. She doesn’t. Izzy’s lip trembles. She can’t bring herself to try and respond. She doesn’t, she doesn’t want to know anything about me at all. The last thing my mom ever said to me was yelling at me not to look so scared all the time and Dad said she never asked about me when he talked to her during the trial she never asked she never-

“Hey, Henry,” Someone says. “This is super gross stuff to say, isn’t it?” Izzy can’t see anything but Henry’s face, everything else is white noise and his words ringing through her, settling too deeply inside, meeting her own thoughts that match them, sometimes, on hard days. She never asked about me, she doesn’t even care that I hate her. Your mam is supposed to care if you hate her. You’re so awful your mom doesn’t even care about you. Your mam is supposed to-

“Yeah, Henry. That’s too far, that’s really mean.”

“She can’t help who her mam is, Hen.”

“Yeah, it’s not like she went to the mam shop and picked a rubbish one.”

“My dad was away for a while, Iz, I get it. My mam says it doesn’t say anything about us. People make bad choices is all.”

“I haven’t even seen my dad since I was five, Izzy, it’s okay, don’t be sad.”

“Yeah, it’s okay, Izzy, don’t be sad, Henry’s just being awful.”

“Hey, she was awful first!”

“Go run up a pole, Henry. I like you, Izzy,” Sarah says, from the window, and moves in her direction. “Henry’s being a jerk, don’t listen to him. Don’t be sad. It’s okay.”

“I like you, too, you’re fun at break, you always have good ideas for games.” That’s Amira, using that certain kind of tone you use when you are trying to comfort an upset person, and Izzy feels some of the ice closing around her heart starting to warm up, to melt, to crack apart. 

Even Lindsey says, almost grudging, “Don’t be sad because of Henry, Izzy. He’s really mean sometimes.”

“I think you’re really cool,” Noah says, in a quieter voice. “Please don’t be sad. Want to play monsters at break?”

They don’t all hate her, they don’t. Someone puts a hand at her back, and she flinches, and they pull the hand away, but they don’t hate her for pulling away, they don’t hate her voice or her hair and they don’t hate her for speaking up, they don’t. 

Henry hasn’t given up, not yet. “Your mam’s in prison for being a shit to your dad, isn’t she?” 

Izzy doesn’t look at him, leaning down to pull the book out of her desk, trying to think. She can pull her backpack out and go the nurse, say she’s feeling sick, and maybe her dad will come get her and take her home. They can call Dr. Marty and she can tell him what happened and Dr. Marty will know what to tell her and her dad to work on for the next time. She can tell him that there were good things, too, like that Noah said he thinks she’s cool, and Amira likes her game ideas, and not everybody hates her because she has the wrong mom, and it’s going to be okay. 

It’s going to be okay.

“Henry, stop it,” She says, in a half-whisper. “Please stop.”

She can go to the nurse. Say she’s sick, it’s not a lie, her stomach is all twisted up in knots. It’ll be true, she’s not going to feel better. She has sweat on her forehead drying cold, making her shiver a little. It’s not a lie, being scared makes her sick, it’s a real sick, it’s not a lie. She gets sick a lot from being scared, Dr. Marty says it’s normal for kids who have anxiety, she has exercises to do, she can picture all her hurting thoughts and move them away, and… 

“That’s what my dad said.” Henry’s voice cuts in. “He said your mam’s a piece of fucking work and probably made your dad one, too-”

“Don’t talk about my dad!” She rounds on him, then, book clutched to her chest. “Don’t you dare, you don’t-... you don’t have any right! You don’t know what happened, you don’t know us, you don’t know anything! My dad is better than yours ever could be! And, and stronger, and braver, too!”

Izzy Gallagher, quiet as a mouse, teacher’s pet from sheer terrified inaction, who always sits still and listens carefully and takes direction so well and is just an absolute pleasure to have in class, Mr. Gallagher, an absolute pleasure, is shouting and doesn’t realize it until the words have left her mouth. 

She should stop, some part of her brain begs her to stop, but the anger is suddenly larger than the fear and she is a little girl with a sword. Where they came from, and what she and her father and her little brother have survived, is a silver chair she will hack to bits until all that’s left shines like jewelry when held up to the light.

Henry’s eyes widen, they are big saucers, and they are very bright and very blue.

“My dad is amazing.” She can’t stop shouting. She’s not even trying to stop any longer. “He lived through really bad stuff and he still got us away from it! Even though it would have been easier to go by himself and leave us, he didn’t, and my mom is evil, and I’m not, because you don’t have to be what your mom is and I’m not ever going to be like that, but you are evil, Henry Fitzgerald, and you don’t even have an excuse! You’re-... you’re mean for no reason, and I hope Karissa spits in your face and kicks you between your legs as hard as she fucking can! You are an asshole, Henry Fitzgerald, and you can go fuck yourself all the way home!”

“Isabella Gallagher!” Mrs. Brent’s voice is shocked, and the words die in Izzy’s throat, as she slowly turns to see the teacher standing in the doorway, staring at her like she’d grown three heads and all of them have fangs. 

Izzy feels like she has fangs, too. And claws, like she is a monster herself. She should be scared, or sad, or ashamed of herself, but all she feels is anger burning bright and hot and good in her veins, louder than fear. Angry feels safer than scared. She feels proud of herself, a feeling so unfamiliar it seems like it must be someone else’s. Sarah, close to her now, whispers, go Izzy, in a soft impressed voice, and Izzy feels her eyes burn again, more than before, but for a different reason. 

They don’t hate her, and Henry isn’t saying bad things about her dad any longer, because of her. They don’t hate her.

“You might be even cooler now,” Amira says, and the teacher shushes all of them and points Izzy out, telling her to go see the Head Teacher. Any other Izzy would slink out with her shoulders hunched, full of fear, but this Izzy feels the buzz of standing up for herself running through her and warming all the cold, chasing the heavy hand on her neck away. This Izzy walks with her chin up and her shoulders back.

Some of the warm feeling goes away when the Head Teacher calls her dad to come get her, and says in her stern hard voice that Izzy was yelling and cursing at another student. The Head Teacher doesn’t say that she had a reason, and makes it sound like Izzy just stood up and started cursing for no reason at all. That’s… that’s not fair. Grown-ups always do that, make it seem like kids just go off for no reason, and Izzy can’t hear what her dad says back to the Head Teacher, but a lot of the warm feeling goes away, then. Her heart feels cold and scared again.

What if he’s mad at her?

What if she can’t be sorry enough to fix it?

Izzy sits in a hard wooden chair that is shaped all wrong for kids and makes her legs hurt after a while, waiting for him to come get her with a racing heart, her book open in her lap. 

There’s some brown-y red smeared on the cover, drying. She made her palms bleed when she was scared and didn’t even notice. She’ll ask her dad to buy the school library a new one. She wants to keep this one for herself.

"I have come," said a deep voice behind them. They turned and saw the Lion himself, so bright and real and strong that everything else began at once to look pale and shadowy compared with him. And in less time than it takes to breathe Jill forgot about the dead King of Narnia and remembered only how she had made Eustace fall over the cliff, and how she had helped to muff nearly all the signs, and about all the snappings and quarrellings. And she wanted to say "I'm sorry" but she could not speak. Then the Lion drew them towards him with his eyes, and bent down and touched their pale faces with his tongue, and said:

"Think of that no more. I will not always be scolding. You have done the work for which I sent you into Narnia."

"Please, Aslan," said Jill, "may we go home now?"

"Yes. I have come to bring you Home," said Aslan.

A flash of gray, worn jeans in her vision brings her slowly into awareness of the world around her, but it’s the voice that breaks her completely from the story’s spell. 

“Talk to me, kiddo.”

Izzy looks up to meet her father’s eyes, surprised - she hadn’t even heard him come up. But they’re quiet movers, the Gallaghers - except for Jamie, who never had to learn to move so quiet she couldn’t hear him, who never had to push down all his sounds so deep inside himself he could go whole days without making any at all. 

Her dad drops into a crouch in front of her, and his knees crack a little, but if it bothers him he doesn’t show it. He looks up at her, from this angle, and he doesn’t look mad.

He almost never looks mad at her.

“I got a call that you were fighting in class.” He looks like he’s trying not to twitch a smile at the corner of his mouth. “And using some pretty creative language.”

“Can’t imagine where I learned to curse,” Izzy says gravely, and there - that was definitely a smile on his face that he has to hide as fast as it shows. She lives for her father’s smile. Still, she closes her book, and folds her hands on top of the stain on the cover so he won’t see it. “I only yelled a little. Henry Fitzgerald was mean to me, and he was going to-... he was going to kiss a girl who didn’t want him to kiss her, even if she didn’t want him to. He said it didn’t matter if she wanted to or not.”

“Ah.” It’s all he says, at first. His face doesn’t show much, now. Her nervous heart starts to beat fast again.

“It’s, that was, um, that was before he got mean. He got mean when I told him that it’s wrong to do that and… I kind of… told everybody in class he was going to.”

Her father’s eyebrows raise, a little. “You did, did you?”

“Yes. Then he said his dad told him my mom’s in prison and that-” She stops herself, closing her hands tightly over the book, before her voice can start to shake again. She takes deep breaths, strong ones, fills her whole lungs up. Her dad waits for her, he always waits for Izzy when she needs him to. “He said, it was just, it was a stupid thing, but it made me really angry.”

Her dad’s face hasn’t changed, but Izzy knows when emotions change in a room, even without anyone’s face moving at all. She can feel that something has shifted inside him, something he’s not showing her. “What did he say?” 

“That I must be awful if my mom doesn’t even want to talk to me.” She says it flat, like it doesn’t bother her at all to hear it. No big deal, it’s normal to have a mother who hates you for stealing your father even though it didn’t happen that way. “Then he said mean stuff about you, and… I was already upset, so… I kind of went off on him. I’m sorry you got called and had to come get me.”

“But you’re not sorry you did it,” He says, and it’s not a question.

She presses her lips tightly together, and shakes her head. “I’m… I’m not. He needed to be yelled at. I’m not sorry, Dad. I mean, I am sorry that you have to do anything, but, I’m not-... sorry for calling him all those names and I will put my money from my birthday in the swear jar if you want, I’ll skip tea for a week and put all my chocolates in there, but I still won’t be sorry for yelling when he was mean about you.”

He huffs a sound like quiet laughter and offers her his hands. “Izzy… I don’t care what a year three kid - or his dad - says about me. But clearly it was important to you. Let me go in there and talk to the Head Teacher about it, and we’ll talk out what happens next on our way home. Okay?”

No anger, or threatening punishments, no mention of discipline ever leaves his slightly smiling lips. Izzy is never taught through making her afraid, not anymore. But he waits, seriously, for her to acknowledge what he’s said. 

“Okay, Dad. We’ll talk about what I need to do. And-... can we call Dr. Marty when we get home? I-... want to talk to Dr. Marty about what happened.”

He looks surprised, but not unhappy about it, and nods. “Yeah, kiddo. Good plan. I’ll be back out in just a bit.” When he turns to walk into the Head Teacher’s office, she thinks that even with everything, he looks very like a grown-up prince, and the rings in his ears look like shredded silver. 

She lifts a hand to touch the shell of her own ear, on her left side. 

Izzy opens her book, to the murmur of their voices as they talk about her. She decides to finish it later, and instead she flips back to read again the bit where the prince takes his sword to the chair that kept him under the spell and tells the evil Queen of Underland that he isn’t hers any longer. 

He will go home, to his family, to be freed of her entirely, even if she still shows up in bad dreams… bad dreams are the only place she can come to, now. He’ll wake up and someone will tell him that she’s gone and she can’t come back, and it will be true. They’ll tell him, again and again, until he believes it. 

Izzy will tell her dad, until he believes it.

Jax will tell her, until she believes it, too.

But first… 

Prince Rilian shivered as she spoke to him. And no wonder: it is not easy to throw off in half an hour an enchantment which has made one a slave for ten years. Then, speaking with a great effort, he said:

"Madam, there will be no more need of that chair. And you, who have told me a hundred times how deeply you pitied me for the sorceries by which I was bound, will doubtless hear with joy that they are now ended for ever. There was, it seems, some small error in your Ladyship's way of treating them. These, my true friends, have delivered me. I am now in my right mind, and there are two things I will say to you…”

“Go fuck yourself,” Izzy whispers with a smile on her face and the thrill of forbidden words up her spine. She isn’t talking to Henry Fitzgerald this time, either. She never really was. “And I’m not sorry you’re not Queen anymore at all.”

---

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @wildfaewhump @whump-tr0pes @moose-teeth @orchidscript @sableflynn @pretty-face-breaker @raigash @vickytokio @eatyourdamnpears

[xenteaart]

A Thousand Buzzing Bugs

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Request: Well, hello! Would I like to place an order with Five for 'Umbrella Academy'? Could you do one where Five has a panic attack and the reader calms him down by singing? It is my way of comforting my friends and family.

Note: thank you so much anon for requesting this, I really enjoyed writing it! also my requests are still open so please feel free to drop your suggestions in my inbox or DMs <3

Warnings: mentions of PTSD, descriptions of a panic attack

After successfully stopping the apocalypse and saving the world, you would expect life to get easier. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the case for Five. 

He was so used to living his life on the run, always restless, tense and having some sort of threat following his every step that when it was time to finally stop he simply didn’t know how to. 

As the Hargreeves siblings’ lives were slowly but surely falling into place and giving them a sense of stability and security, Five had absolutely no clue what he was supposed to be doing. So he was stuck with himself in the agonizing and seemingly frozen present, left to deal with the baggage of his traumatic past and the horror of his uncertain future. Naturally, since his brilliant but cluttered mind wasn’t occupied with anything urgent or even remotely important, it was bound to catch up with itself. 

You didn’t have to be a genius to guess Five had PTSD and had to break down sooner or later, so you kept an eye on him. 

Well, you always have done because he had a truly exceptional talent of getting himself into potentially lethal situations, but this time you were properly paying attention. 

It was a rather quiet evening at the Academy, and if it weren’t so completely and utterly empty, you’d probably even dare to call it peaceful. The house didn’t feel very inviting when no one was home, its huge corridors and cold walls only serving as a painful reminder that everyone else had other places to be and things to do. Everyone except you and Five, because neither of you belonged in 2019, both ex-Commission assassins with barely anything but bloody history and hardship to remember. 

You were currently in the kitchen fixing you and Five a dinner while he was absent-mindedly tapping on the table with his fingers, waiting for you to finish. You weren’t the type to get bothered by repetitive sounds easily but Five just wouldn’t stop, his gentle tapping gradually turning into aggressive and loud knocking.

Five’s mind was starting to feel like a pool of thick slime, his thoughts barely moving through the cold sticky texture, getting caught halfway and immobilized instantly like a silly trembling fly in a cobweb. It was merely annoying at first but became truly terrifying in a matter of seconds.

“Are you okay?” you asked as you turned to face him, your gaze filled with irritation and genuine worry all at once. The question clearly snapped him out of his thoughts and he flinched a little, furrowing his eyebrows and curving his lips in a displeased expression.

A thousand bugs were buzzing under Five’s skin in a vicious choir, itching and burning and aching and tingling. His own heartbeat was pulsating in his temples, making every other sound around him muted and dull, only intensifying the crackling static in his ears. Five’s palms were getting clammy.

“Fine.” he replied, his tone sharp but somewhat anxious. You noticed that Five was still fidgeting, rubbing his fingers against each other and picking at the skin around his nails, and it almost looked like he wasn’t even fully aware he was doing it. His breathing became fast and shallow, and you recognized what was happening right away. You were no stranger to panic attacks - you knew one when you saw one.

Five, however, wasn’t at all familiar with the feeling, his first assumption misleading him to believe he was having a heart attack which was a fairly easy mistake to make. He was beginning to feel very light-headed, unable to grasp onto any passing thought and figure out what the hell was happening.

You put your spatula down and quickly washed your hands in the sink. As you approached Five, you rested your hands on his shoulders carefully and then wrapped your arms around him from behind, putting some pressure on his solar plexus with your palms to help ease the anxiety. 

You were watching Five closely, reading his body language to make sure you weren’t making him feel claustrophobic because there was always a thin line when it came to situations of such delicacy. At the end of the day, every person was different and needed different things but what you were doing seemed to be working a little which only proved your theory that Five wasn’t the kind that needed to be left alone. And it made perfect sense considering his flashbacks and anxiety were heavily related to his many years of solitude and hopeless isolation from everything and everyone he ever knew and loved.

“I got you, you’re alright. I got you,” you uttered quitely, your voice perfectly steady and confident, its tone sparkling with care.

Five gave you no reply, closing his eyes shut and squeezing your forearm instead as if it was the only thing that could keep him grounded and sane. The most important thing now was keeping his focus on one thing and preventing his mind from wandering off into the intrusive thoughts and anxiety territory any further. You leaned a little closer to his ear and started humming some random melody, suddenly remembering that low frequency sounds were known to have a deeply calming effect on people. It was a good sensory trick that worked wonders to catch one’s attention and distract them from whatever it was that was making them feel uneasy. You knew that because you used to hum and sing to your own self a lot whenever you were anxious or panicking, which arguably wasn’t as effective as having another human being do the job and hold you close but it helped nonetheless.

As your soft singing continued, you pressed your cheek against Five’s, feeling the little drops of cold sweat on your skin as his slightly wet strands of hair were sticking to your temples. You didn’t mind. 

The time was passing by at a funny and fairly confusing pace, taking away your ability to tell whether it had been 5 or 15 minutes. It didn’t matter either way because your top priority was calming Five down and making him feel safe, and you would keep holding him for as long as he needed.

He was probably going to brush it off later and act like nothing ever happened, a little too proud in nature and a little too puzzled by his own brain to properly address it, let alone saying “thank you”. But after many years of being by Five’s side you knew his heart well enough to see he was thankful even if he never verbally confirmed it.

Five’s heartbeat was starting to return to its normal pace under your palms and you couldn’t help but smile at your little victory, placing a gentle chaste kiss on his forehead and casually saying:

“So... rice or pasta?”

[captainjimothycarter]

So silly image of sorts based on cousins, but Peggy and Steve vs other parents regarding their kid because their kid takes after serumed daddy and is big for his age. Someone giving them shit for being terrible parents cause their 'obviously' pre-school aged child is throwing a fit and the snap back that the kid is a year, 18 months, not pre-school don't expect a big kid just because he's tall/broad for his age, he's still a baby etc.

Okay maybe less funny but over protective Steve really wanted to showcase himself.

--

They knew that there was going to be problems down the road with Steve having the serum and he and Peggy trying for kids.

Howard had given his own input or two and it was nothing more than, “We simply don’t know what will happen, kid. It’s all guessing games. Peggy’s pregnancy could either be completely normal six, seven, eighteen months or she could have the kid in six and the kid be fine or worst.”

Peggy’s lips pursed slightly, taking Steve’s hand into her own. Their wedding bands gently brushed one another as she did. “First off, do you not know how long a woman is pregnant for, Howard? Nine months! Nine months. How…” She pinched the bridge of her nose and waved off anything he said in explanation.

“Second,” she continued with a huff. “What do you mean worse?”

Here now, Howard looked sheepish, more so for the worse than the lack of knowing how long a woman was pregnant for. “Well...when we first met Steve he did have that laundry list of problems and-”

“You mean our kid could be like how I was?” Steve interjected, interrupting an annoyed-looking Howard. “They could-could-”

“Hold up, before you start spiraling, Stevie.” Howard’s hands flew up, raised to defend himself and stop Steve from starting to panic. “I said could. If. Maybe. It’s a possibility, a slight possibility that we have to consider, even if I don’t think it’s possible. That serum coursing through your veins rewrites DNA. Genetics. Your little kid is more likely to have that serum than to have any laundry list of your problem.”

But it was still something they had to think about and Steve was struggling to wrap his mind around that.

All through Peggy’s pregnancy, that problem remained in the back of his head. It was a possibility. No matter how much he tried to reassure himself with the countless doctors and even Howard saying that Peggy was doing outstanding for her pregnancy, how big the baby was, and what naught.

It was still there, no matter how much he tried to drown it with optimistic thoughts.

It wasn’t until Chester Micheal Carter-Rogers was born at ten pounds and nine ounces, twenty-five inches in length did Steve breathe a sigh of relief. Even if Chest was three weeks early and Peggy had to have a c-section.

Peggy and baby were both fine and Steve was grateful, so, so, so grateful.

That’s when the problems began to show how it would be to raise a child with the serum. How much of the serum and if they’d later possess super-human strength, no one was sure. Not even Howard. It was all development.

At three months, Chester was already sitting up on his own and responding to his name with a toothless smile. At five months, he was holding his own bottle and loving to play with his parents. At six months, started the teething.

“Well, at least he doesn’t have your strength,” Peggy tried to joke as Chester chewed on the slushy-texture pacifier. “Else he would’ve bitten my nipple straight off with those three teeth halfway coming in. If he bites my nipple, we’re having a problem, mister.”

Chester just giggled at his mama’s finger and gripped at it, making Steve give that half-smile of relief.

Chester was eight months before he said his first word, “Broom!”

Steve dropped the broom he was holding, looking down at the heavy boy strapped to his chest. He’d dropped a glass earlier and was trying to clean it up, having strapped his baby boy to him so he wasn’t hurt. “Did you just…?”

Chester grinned a whole eight teeth in his mouth now. “Broom! Broom!”

“You just…” Steve swallowed, feeling faint and overwhelmed with pride as he picked the boy up and hugged him. “You spoke!”

It was near the year mark did Howard point something out over dinner. “You know...Chester has never been sick.”

Peggy shared a look with Steve, clicking her tongue on the roof of her mouth. Steve lowered his fork and looked at their baby that he was feeding mashed-up food. “That’s true,” she said carefully after a moment of thought. “Not even a fever, a cold. I wasn’t sickly as a child but I had my fair share of colds as an infant and Lord knows you did too, Steve.”

“I think it’s safe to confirm that Chester has Steve’s serum,” Howard mused as if no one had already thought about that. “Good for him.”

--

Other parents started to notice the developments too during their daddy and me! classes. There were some snide remarks on how big their boy was for a one-year-old.

“Thirty-two pounds!” Gretta hissed, glaring at where Steve was showing Chester and the other kids how to blow bubbles. “He said Chester is thirty-two pounds and thirty-five inches! Can you believe that? Look at how big he is!”

Steve huffed in annoyance and tried not to let the other gossip get to him. It wasn’t until Peggy stormed home one day after a grocery trip with Chester, the little boy sniffling like he’d been crying did it hit him how rude the other parents were.

“I ran into our darling neighbor today,” she noted, slamming the eggs down on the counter.

Steve flinched and hope they weren’t broken as he finished buttoning up Chester’s pants after he’d taken him to the bathroom. “Darling,” he warned, knowing how sensitive Chester was to emotions. “Which neighbor?”

“Oh, the wonderful and perfect Kelly and her perfectly normal daughter Jackie. Don’t you know how perfect they are?”

Steve watched as she half-aggressively put up the groceries, only stopping her when she almost dropped the barely-survived eggs. “Peggy,” he breathed, cupping her jawline. “What did they say?”

“Chester went to hug Jackie as normal - he’s fascinated with other kids and you know him, doesn’t know his own strength, and is just getting the hang of walking right. He fell into Jackie and pushed them both down and Kelly acted like he had punched her daughter. She told me to keep my monster of a child away from her and her family. I told her then she needs to keep her husband home and away from his mistress on business trips.”

Steve’s lips pursed and looked over to Chester playing with his blocks, sighing. Yeah, he got that. The neighbors were not the most polite about Chester’s rapid growth. It’s not like they could say he was Captain America and Chester had some percentage of the super-soldier serum.

“Well, maybe she’ll learn to keep her mouth shut,” he grunted, taking the eggs from her to safely put in the fridge.

--

In the two months since that incident, Chester was speaking more, learning new words every day. He was even speaking full sentences and could name objects. Now he was walking by himself, kicking a ball back and forth, and even sang songs.

Unfortunately, that meant that Peggy had, of course, taught their son The Man With The Plan.

Right now, none of that mattered. Not when Chester, his beautiful son with his downy soft blonde hair, and hazel eyes, was screaming in the buggy. Not that Steve blamed his son, really. The kid was hot and icky and tired and after several boosters from the doctor, he wouldn’t want to be in public either.

But grocery trips had to be had.

And it didn’t help that Kelly shouldered by them, dragging her daughter and loudly stating that Jackie wasn’t allowed to hug Chester or even look at him.

Now how do you explain that to a child who’s already in a bad mood? You don’t.

Steve had given up on comforting Chester beyond rubbing his back and whispering to him as he looked at the options of oatmeal. He was still sniffling and hiccuping loudly and screaming every so often, even if Kelly had insisted on staying on the aisle with them.

“If that was my daughter,” she droned on without anyone asking her, “I would’ve taught her right and told her tantrums to get you nowhere, especially at that age.”

“And what age might that be?” Steve challenged, standing up and laying a hand on the cart. Chester’s little fingers wrapped around his middle finger to try to suckle on. Poor buddy. Still had that tooth coming in.

“Four, isn’t he?”

Steve just blinked at her, scooping Chester up to try to ground him. God, he wishes Peggy was here. She wouldn’t keep her temper in check as much as he was, but her comfort was greatly needed.

“You know damn well that our kids were born the same year, just months apart, and your daughter, who’s now pulling open the boxes of grits, by the way, is three months older than Chest. And by the way, Kelly, Chest is only eighteen months old! He’s just big for his age and upset because you’re a terrible mother who insists that our kids can’t play together.”

“Well-well-” Kelly stomped to her child and ripped the box from her hand, jerking her up. “He’s too big! He’ll hurt her! He’s nothing but a m-”

Steve didn’t feel his feet moving him until he was in front of the woman about to call his child a monster. He cradled Chester closer to him and glared down at her.

“Finish that sentence, I dare you. You and I both know damn well that Paul isn’t the father of your child and unless you want him to know…” The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he stepped back fixed Chester in his arms. “Come on, Chest. I know mommy is waiting for us at the house. Are you ready for our big move, huh? Away from judgemental neighbors who can’t keep themselves in check, yeah? We’ll find new friends for you to play with who don’t mind how big you are. Yeah, we will!”

--

It might’ve taken two months from moving from Brooklyn to DC and to finally get their house in order but Chester was a lot happier here.

More room to play around in, even having three play dates lined up in the last week with new neighbors who didn’t seem to mind their son was a little more advance.

It wasn’t until the four-month mark hit and Peggy came home from a doctor appointment within Shield did Steve feel the familiar dread hit him as she silently handed him a blank envelope.

Two sonograms were laid inside. One labeled baby a and the other baby b.

“Twins,” he breathed, looking over to Chester rolling his ball after the cat. “We’re having...twins.”

Peggy, seeing the familiar look pulled him in for a comforting kiss. “We are, but at least we have practice with Chester. And no judgemental Kelly around here.”

[kiwi-bitchez]

Not a Toy

Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader

Everyone is over 18 here!

Warnings: smut, sex toys, fingering, lowkey squirting, sexy times, confessions, fluff

Word count: 6.7k

Summary: Peter is working on a secret project and starts acting strange when you ask him about it. How do you explain to your best friend that you are engineering your spider suit to have vibrating fingers? And how are you supposed to react when she offers to be your test subject? 

Lazy days at the compound were not to be taken for granted. Between the high regiment training schedule, international travel, press conferences, and team meetings, it felt like you rarely had a minute to yourself. So when a day popped up where you could relax for a minute, you took full advantage.

That was the problem though, you didn’t know how to relax. Your body naturally woke you up at the crack of dawn and you instinctively went on a morning run. What was wrong with you. Every time you sat down to “relax” you felt restless, searching around for something productive to do.

Noon rolls around and you give up on your attempts of a relaxing day. You peek your head into the lab to see who’s working. You promised yourself you would leave Peter alone today, that you’d let him enjoy his day off too. Screw that. Your best friend was the only person you knew who was more attention-deficit than yourself, he was probably just as restless.

It was a little strange at first when he had joined the team. You were skeptical of someone so young, even though he was six months older than you. You had tried to give him the cold shoulder, to let him know that this job wasn’t going to be easy. You caved within a day. He was just so nice and funny, how could you not grow to love him. Like him. Friends. Like.

The two of you had quickly grown dependent on one another for company, as everyone else on the team was a little older and less inclined to participate in movie marathons and pancake nights. You would be lying if you said you didn’t have a little crush on Peter. A little, tiny, minuscule crush on him that was easily repressed into the deepest parts of you and squashed down. Until he smiled and the corners of his eyes crinkled or when he’d grab your hand to drag you off somewhere. Not so easy to squash then.

You were too aware of the consequences though, and there was no way he would ever feel the same. So you were content with being his friend, with spending every minute you could with him.

So you decide to bother him. Looks like he wasn’t able to relax on his day off either and decided to work on something in the lab. You slip through the door and shuffle your way over to him. He had headphones on, and his tongue was poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration.  

He was deep in the zone, so much that he didn’t notice you approach the bench and slip into the seat across from him. Resting your chin on your hand you watched attentively as he worked on his project. Laptop open next to him with wires tangled all around, he was toying with the hand-piece of his spider suit. The hand was on a stand in front of him and he was poking at it with tools, occasionally going to his laptop to make some changes.

“What’cha doing,” you finally ask, making him jump back. You laugh a little at his reaction, finding it funny how deep in concentration he could get.

He starts to scramble around, moving wires and closing his computer. He seemed nervous, and was frantically pushing his tools around, but not actually accomplishing anything.

“Huh, uhhhh, um, I’m just, nothing, I’m just working,” his voice was on edge and he continued to fiddle around with the things on his desk.

“Okay weirdo,” you move around the table to sit at the stool next to him, “Doing some upgrades?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah , upgrades,” he continued clearing the table and moving his tools.

“Damn, okay if it’s a big secret then I guess I’ll leave. Didn’t mean to bother you,” you felt bad, as he seemed really flustered by your presence.

“Nono, you aren’t bothing me,” his eyes were still wide with panic, “It’s just, uhhh, I’m just working on something.”

“I can see that,” you say sarcastically, “I just wanted to come see what you’re up to. I can't manage to relax, if you can believe it.”

“Me either, decided to do some work on the suit,” he was still acting shifty.

“What are you doing?” you ask with genuine interest, “I feel like we just did suit upgrades the other week, what more could you be adding?”

“Ummm, I just,” his face was bright red and he shifted his weight back and forth from leg to leg.

“Okay Parker what’s your deal,” you turn to him, “you are acting so strange. Hiding something from me?”

“No, not hiding anything,” his words came out a little too quick.

“Okay, show me what you’re doing then,” you teased him a little, knowing he was uncomfortable and you could pull at his strings.

He let out an exasperated sigh and ran his hands through his hair and over his face a few times.

“Just, umm, improving dexterity.”

“You’re a bad liar you know,” you moved closer to the spider hand on the table, “I would have believed that if your voice didn’t crack.”

“Okay please promise you won’t make fun of me?”

“Oh Peter, you know I can’t promise that.”

“Please, I’ll show you but you can’t be mean to me about it,” his voice was higher than usual, clearly concerned.

“I guess…” you laugh a little, “What the fuck could you be doing that’s so embarrassing?”

“Okay,” he let out a deep sigh and turned to you, “so have you ever thought about how the tech we use could be applied to non-superhero uses?” 

It was like he was starting a pitch, everything was always so formal with him. You lean back in your seat and smirk a little. 

“I guess,” you shrug.

“Like our toaster here,” he talks with his hands in a way that makes your heart smile, you shake off the feeling and nod attentively, “you know how it always toasts your bread perfectly? That’s because Tony fixed it, set the levels to always get the perfect level of toast.”

You were still completely unsure where he was going with this.

“So I was thinking about my suit and the different non-super uses for it,” his voice was slowing. He was stalling, trying to find the right words to describe this to you.

“Um, so one day there was a little glitch in my suit and it got a little...shaky, and we fixed it right away, no problem, but I kept thinking about how the...shaking could be useful.”

“Shaking?” You were not having any of this, “what the fuck are you talking about Peter.”

“Ugh, okay, this is the part you can’t be mean about.” 

You nod with your hands up defensively.

“I’m messing around with the levels on the hand of my suit because that one day it started vibrating. And I thought that a vibrating hand would probably be a good sex toy. And the tech we have here is probably way better than anything they have out there. Like if we can make perfect toast, why can’t we make the perfect dildo, ya know?”

It was taking every ounce of strength you had to not burst out laughing. You bit your lip and nodded at him, trying to uphold your promise.

“So I umm, I’ve just been messing around with the different things I can program my suit to do, the different...vibrations I guess.” 

He wouldn’t make eye contact with you. He just moved back over to his seat and twisted the hand so that you would have a batter view.

Opening his laptop back up and pulling open the lines of coding, he highlights a section and hits enter. The hand of his suit promptly begins to shift, the fingers buzzing aggressively.

“So you….turned the fingers of your spider suit into vibrators?” your tone was somewhere in between shock and giggles.

“Hey, no judgment, you promised!” 

You bring your hand up to your mouth, making the “lips are zipped” motion but keeping the smirk you had plastered to your face.

“So they aren’t just vibrators,” his voice dipped back into science mode, “that’s what it originally started out as, but I’ve found I can make them do lots of things. Different speeds and pressures, like any other high-quality sex toy.”

Moving to a different part of the code he highlights a section and hits enter again, this time the fingers rippled and bumps appeared, giving the surface a moving texture. He showed you how the fingers of his suit could twist and roll and curl.

“I can see on your face that you're judging me, and I need you to not tell anyone else about this, because as mean as you’re gonna be, I can handle it. But I can not handle Tony or Sam finding out about this. Please.” 

You felt bad for how nervous he was, and that you had crashed his secret session in the first place, but you were actually quite impressed with his invention.

“My lips are sealed, I swear,” you brought up a pinky, as was custom between the two of you, and hooked it around his. 

“It’s my day off, so this doesn’t really count as spider man lab work, you know? I’m just messing around, this isn’t actually anything serious, I was just curious to see…” his face was still flushed red with embarrassment.

“Hey, you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you try to sound reassuring but it comes out more as a chuckle, “I actually think this is really clever.”

“Really?” The red of his face was starting to subside to pink.

“Yeah, but…” your face scrunched up a little, “do you usually fuck girls while wearing your spiderman suit?”

“Oh god, no,” you were a little relieved to hear, “no, that would be so unprofessional. Spider-man doesn’t use his powers or his charm to pick up girls, never.”

“You leave that all to Peter Parker?” You joke.

“Oh yeah, he really does a great job in that department for me,” his sarcasm meeting your own.

You give him a little shrug. Peter could get it if he just opened his eyes. Almost every girl he met basically threw herself at him, he just never seemed to pick up on it. You were kind of glad for his blindness, as he wasn’t constantly flirting back with every girl he spoke to, but the blindness was also a curse as he never noticed how you were right there. 

“So what’s your plan with this? If you’re not actually gonna use it on some spiderman fan-girl,” you ask.

“I don’t know, haven’t really thought that far ahead. Make a prototype that’s not spider printed and send it to some sex toy company maybe. But then I bet it would be so expensive, and I wouldn’t want to make a product that’s inaccessible.”

You closed your eyes and laughed to yourself for a moment.

“Well, whatever your plan is, you definitely need to change some things before this gets used,” you move around to the opposite side of him, taking the computer mouse from his stiff hand. 

You highlight the first section of the code and hit enter, causing the hand to buzz to life. 

“So this,” you move your hand to lightly touch the fingertips of the suit’s hand, “is way too powerful. You might think that more is better, but I promise you this will buzz her clit right off.”

Peters face was back to that signature beet red. 

You change a few lines of the code and hit enter again, softening the buzz. 

“This is much better, you don’t want it to hurt.” 

“Um, thanks,” he mumbles.

“I wouldn’t expect you to know about the nuances of vibrating sex toys, Peter. This is why I am graciously offering my feminine perspective on this fucked up project of yours.”

“Hey! You promised to be nice!” 

“I am! Who else is gonna tell you what a good vibrator feels like.”

“I didn’t think you would be so well versed in the subject,” he took a jab at you, you deserved it.

“I’m just as painfully single as you, dildo-fingers, I gotta get it somewhere and god knows we’re all to busy to go get it organically,” you joke back, “But I can’t quite say I have experience with any toy quite like this…” you continue to mess around with the controls, testing out the different modes. 

“Would you try it?” the question slipped out of him before he could fully assess the ramifications of his request. 

“Would I try it?” You flatly repeat back, also taking a second to process, “ummm, I guess so?” It came out more as a question than an answer.

“I mean, you don’t have to,” he was quick to retract his offer, “I just don’t really have a way of testing it out myself, accurately anyways.” 

“I’ll try it,” you were a bit more confident in your answer this time.

“See, umm, you would… You really don’t have to, because it would have to be on my hand,” he explained frantically, “the suit, would have to be on my hand…”

“Oh,” it was your turn to go red, “I mean, if it were for scientific research purposes…”

His eyes went a little wide, the two of you staring at each other blankly. 

“If we are going to start a sex toy empire I think we need to have a strong, active working relationship,” you said with a tinge of sarcasm, but also with underlying seriousness, “and if it’s for science then I am willing to be your test subject.”

“You know this is just something I was fucking around with, it’s not a big deal. I can scrap the whole project…” he was searching your face for a sign, trying to detect if you were being serious or not.

“I think it’s a good idea,” you shrugged, “Why not? Ya know?”

“Why not…” his brain was racing with reasons why not, because you were his best friend, because he was in love with you. Because this would mean seeing you in a very compromising position that he had definitely not imagined before…, “Yeah, why not.”

“When do you think it will be ready?”

“Now. It’s ready now,” Peter answers a little too quickly, unable to mask his nerves.

“That’s good,” you were avoiding eye contact, “Probably best that we do this today, cuz everyone is doing their own thing, you know? Like you said, probably best if Tony and the rest of them don’t find out about this”

“Right, right,” he was fiddling with all the wires on the desk again, “so…you want to do this now? Like, right now?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you tried desperately to meet his eyes, “You’re the scientist here, how do you think we should go about this? Scientific method?”

You were trying to lighten the mood, but neither one of you could ignore the thick tension that had settled between you. You were both walking on eggshells, not wanting to say anything that would blow this all up, accidentally reveal how much you wanted this.

“Well I guess you could just go about how you usually would with any other sex toy…I’ll just be attached to the other end. I won’t even look, I can wear a blindfold and headphones or something, give you some privacy.”

“I think that would make it more weird,” you said honestly, “plus, I need you present to collect the research, observation and whatnot.”

“You want me… to observe you,” he was anxiously chewing on his lip, almost to the point of drawing blood.

“Yeah, I’ll talk you through it and give you feedback, and you can…observe.”

“My room or yours?” he focused all his energy on clearing his head, on trying to not act awkward about what was about to happen.

“Hmm?” you were a little lost in your own head, also trying to act casual, but failing miserably.

“Um, location? Where do you want to do this? That will be comfortable?” he started to unplug the wires and clean up his tools.

“My room I guess, if we want accurate results it should be in a place that I’m used to.”

He felt his breath catch in his throat at the thought of you touching yourself in your bed. The same place the two of you had watched movies and played scrabble, the same bed he would take naps in when you were gone.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat while he cleans up, closing his laptop and returning the tools to their proper storage. Why the fuck were you doing this? Why did you think this was a good idea? Too late to turn back now, you thought, put on a brave face and see this though, deal with the consequences later.

“Ready?” Peter asks, sounding like he was speaking to both you and himself. The truthful answer from both of you was no, but you nod your head and hop up to meet him in the doorway.

The walk up to your room was quiet, he shuffled a few feet behind you, unsure what to say or do to diffuse the tension. There had never been a moment of silence like this since you met, you were always cracking jokes and laughing together, why was this so different. He knew why it was different.

Both of you knew deep down that after this, things wouldn't be the same. You were pretending like this was just a silly project, a fun experiment between the two of you, but you knew better than that. He would never look at you the same way again, and you knew it.

You open your door and usher Peter into your room as you had done a thousand times before. You had been right, this was the perfect opportunity, most everyone was out for the day. You were the only people on the entire floor of the building. This could be a contained incident that stayed a secret, just between you and Peter.

“Okay,” you jump back onto your mattress, trying to hide the shaky feeling in your stomach, “so I’m thinking that I’ll just get naked and lay here, and you can work your magic with your fancy hand.”

“Yeah, okay,” Peter turned around to give you privacy while you undressed, a little ironic considering he would be seeing you fully naked in only a matter of seconds. He placed the new device on and let his spider suit wrap around his body.

“Oh, you’re gonna wear the whole suit?” You ask mid-taking your pants off.

“Uhh, I haven’t programmed it to be separate, it’s just a part of the whole-body piece right now. I can go change it if this is gonna be weird.

“It’s probably gonna be weird either way, so just leave it on,” you were glad his back was to you, as you were furiously blushing. You had always stolen glances of Peter when he was in his spider suit, the way it clung so tightly to his perfect body.

“So I’m thinking that we need something to compare this to, like a control group, so you should use whatever vibrator you already own for a little bit, and then we can use this and you can tell me the difference,” Peter was trying to be as professional as possible, this was for science, after all.

“Okay,” your voice was shrunken into your throat, “You can sit at the end of the bed if you want.”

You could feel his eyes burn into you as he turned around. No amount of overthinking could have prepared you for what it felt like to be seen by him in this state. You didn’t try to cover yourself up, you didn’t try to hide, you just sat there.

You broke the moment by turning over to your bedside table, giving him a moment to shake off the initial shock and move over to his spot on the bed. You grab your wand vibrator from its pouch in your drawer and flip back over onto your back.

“You can, um, watch porn or whatever you usually do to…” he tried to avert his gaze as you propped yourself up on your pillows.

“Oh, no, I usually don’t,” you spread your legs a little, giving him just the slightest view of your already wet slit. He felt a deep pit form in his stomach at the sight, you were already wet.

“Is this a bad idea? You can tell me if you want to stop,” you let him know.

He shakes his head rapidly, still unable to tear his eyes from your center, “We’ve made it this far, how weirder could it get.”

You laugh a little, before turning on your wand to the lowest setting. The faint buzz cut through the thick silence of the room. You let your head fall back onto the pillow as you run the vibrator up and down. You close your eyes and try to pretend that you were alone in your room, that Peter wasn’t only feet away from you, watching you. His presence, although foreign, was only fueling your experience. The way you could feel his eyes on you, even with yours squeezed shut, made you clench around nothing.

“Do you want me to finish?” your voice came out as more of a moan than you had intended, causing his dick to twitch underneath his suit, “To compare? Or should I save it?”

He heard your voice, but was barely listening to your questions. His left brain kicked back into gear, remembering that this was an experiment.

“How many can you usually do?” his voice was far too formal for the situation, but he couldn’t help it.

“A few, three on a good day” you reply, once again your voice came out breathy and weak.

“Okay, umm, yeah you can finish once with this one and then we can try the hand.”

You turned the setting up a notch, causing your back to arch a little. You let your free hand come up to palm at one of your breasts, your head still thrown back onto the pillow. A moan from the back of your throat slipped out unintentionally, but feeling his weight shift closer to you at the end of the bed only encouraged you to let out another.

“Fuck, Peter, I’m close,” you cried out. Hearing his name come from you in this context made his cock strain and grow impossibly harder. He felt the urge to rub himself through the material of his suit, but wondered if that would cross the line. Although you were naked and sprawled out before him, the two of you hadn’t discussed anything about him, so he decided against it and let the uncomfortable rod between his legs pulse with lust, untouched.

His mouth dropped open a little at the same time yours did, unblinking as he watched you writhe under the wand, hips rolling against it as your legs started to shake a little. Before he could even take it all in, you were sitting up, vibrator turned off and returning to its place in your drawer.

“Okay so that was the control,” you fixed your messy hair and repositioned yourself on the bed, “Hey, Peter,” you snapped in his face, “that was the control.”

“Oh, yeah, mhm that was the control,” he shook his head and blinked his eyes hard a few times.

“Okay so however you want to do this…” you laid back down, “I’m pretty wet from that last one so you should be able to slip a finger in no problem.”

Your voice dipped upwards on the last word you said, as two of Peter’s suited fingers plunged straight into your pussy.

“Fuck,” your body jerked up a little, your breathing became heavy very quickly. He watched you intently as he twisted his two digits around inside of you, finding the spot you liked them curled up at.

“I’m gonna turn the vibrations on now, is that okay?” he tried to steady his voice.

“Mmmmmm,” you moaned, unable to keep your hips from rolling slightly against his hand, “yeah, I’m ready.”

He pressed down on the wrist of his suit, turning the vibrations onto the setting you had fixed earlier. At that exact moment, Peter knew he was done for. The long, gravely moan that started in your chest and made its way past your perfect lips was something he would remember forever. He knew he would never be able to watch porn again, that he would always compare everything to this moment, to the way you sounded, to the way you looked underneath his touch.

“Oh my god, Peter,” your words snapped him out of his daze, “this is so much better, fuck, so much better.”

He continued to move his fingers up inside of you as he slowly brought the pad of his thumb up to your clit. He had programmed it to be slightly different than the vibrations in his center two fingers, but to match rhythm.

He was observing you. Observing how your eyes rolled into the back of your head when he pressed down slightly harder, the way your hips bucked up when he stalled his movements. Observing the way your hair fell around your face, observing the perfect oh your beautiful lips made. Observing the butterflies fluttering in his stomach and the rapid beat of his heart as he watched you. Observing you. For science.

He noticed the way your walls pulsed around his fingers as he switched the vibrations to the next setting. The hums and whimpering noises you were making were driving him crazy. You let your head lift from its thrown back position and meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, and lust-filled, and incredibly focused. The tip of his tongue poked out between his lips in the same way it had when he was in the lab.

His thumb started to rub tight circles around your clit, matching the vibrations coming from the suit. You had never felt something quite like this, the growing heat in your lower stomach was throbbing against his hand. You noticed that every time you said his name, his fingers curled up a bit harder into you, you used this to your advantage.

You let out a whimper of his name as you felt your high quickly approaching. He was so fixated on your body, taking in every sound that passed your lips and every shudder, every small movement. He was determined to make you feel good, to hear his name mixed with your needy moans.

He let his free hand grip your hip, pushing you flat to the mattress, stilling your movements. Fucking his fingers up into you harder you press against his cold touch, arching your body into him. Even though it was only his palm, covered by his suit, his touch seared into your skin. The action pushed you closer.

Peter could barely register you screaming out his name as you came from the blood pounding in his ears. You ground your hips into his thumb, his fingers pushing perfectly into you as you clenched around them.

“Peter, you’re making me come, fuck- I’m-” you bit your lip to stifle your moans as your hips continued to roll forward. Watching you come undone around his fingers caused a wet patch to quickly form in Peter’s suit, leaving a barely noticeable stain on his leg.

The small tremors inside you quickly rose to an earthquake, crashing harshly around you. His fingers continued to work inside you through your high, knowing right when to slow his movements and still his vibrating fingers inside you, letting you clench around them as you caught your breath. He removed his thumb from your clit and leaned back to look at you.

Your back finally gave out from its permanent arched position as you relaxed back down onto the sheets. Your eyes flutter open to find his already looking at you.

“Peter, Peter, oh my god,” your voice could barely rise above a whisper, “that was… that was so fucking good.”

“You liked it?” he asked genuinely, starting to circle his fingers inside you again, causing you to twitch, “think you can come again?”

“Again?” your hoarse voice raised up.

“You told me you could give me three,” the tone of his voice alone was enough to get you there. The fact that he said your orgasms were “for him,” it was the truth and you were glad that he knew it.

“Fuck, it won't take much if you keep-” your words were cut off by a short gasp, your hips lifted ever so slightly off the mattress and your head fell back. He pushed his fingers flat and deep into you, turning up the vibrations another setting.

His opposite hand was rubbing soft circles on your outer thigh, moving in tandem with your hips that bucked forward. Your moans were desperate and whiny, your clit still sensitive from your last orgasm.

As soon as he ran his thumb up through your folds, gathering your wetness and pressing softly onto your overstimulated nub, you couldn’t feel anything other than the waves of pleasure that rippled through your body.

Your body was set on fire, your senses were dialed to eleven. You could swear you heard him mutter under his breath, “that’s it beautiful, come for me again,” and “you look so fucking perfect like this.” But with the state your mind was in, you couldn’t be sure.

Your body tightens and tightens, threatening to snap at any moment. You couldn’t help but reach out and grasp his arm, the smooth material of his suit under your grasp as you clung to him for support.

“Please,” you begged, “fuck, Peter, please don’t stop.”

He changed the setting up to something that was a perfect mix of vibrations and rotation, his fingers snaking in a motion that had you seeing stars, his thumb still pressed against your clit as the movement beneath the surface of his suit continued to turn and spin for your pleasure.

The grip on his arm wasn’t enough, so you bring both hands to his shoulders, angling them down to you so you could hold onto them. You bury your head into his neck, feeling the solid texture of his suit against your forehead.

Your body seized up as you hit your third high, mouth gaping open and letting out deep, frantic breaths. Your thighs lock around his hand like a vice grip and your contracting walls frenzy around him.

While the first orgasm he had given you had rolled over you in waves, this one flipped your stomach up into your chest like the initial drop of a roller coaster. You could feel jolts of pleasure wash over your entire body, your legs grew numb, your nipples stiffened, all the air was sucked from your lungs.

You could hardly register what was happening to you until you started coming down, your oversensitive body collapsing without warning. He retracted his fingers from you, making you whimper at the loss. When your lower half returned to its place on the bed, you notice an unusually large wet patch.

“Holy shit, did I…”

“Yeah,” he laughed a little, “that good?”

“Fuck,” you threw your head back, hand meeting your forehead to wipe some of the sweat away, “that’s never happened to me.”

“Really?” his voice was soft.

“Really, really… sorry, I guess.”

“Are you kidding,” he moved back to the end of the bed, “that was fucking hot.”

Your face grew warm at his compliment. You shouldn’t feel so flustered considering what had just happened, but his words sat heavily in your chest.

“Umm, so the spider hand is definitely better than anything available on the market, that much I can tell you for sure. You can put that in your data.”

You fully flop back onto your bed, wanting nothing more than for him to join you. Your body felt limp and heavy, like you had just run a marathon or been hit by a train.

You watched through hooded eyes as he pressed the spider in the center of his suit and slipped it off to put his clothes back on. His back was turned to you, but the view you got of his shoulder muscles could have set you off for another orgasm…if he offered.

“I’m gonna let you rest, you seem pretty beat,” he chuckled as he flipped your lights off, “I’m glad you liked it.”

You couldn’t even think through what had just happened before you fell into a deep, much-needed sleep. Your body would need a day or two to fully recover, and you would need far longer than that to mentally recover from letting your best friend slash secret crush finger fuck the shit out of you in his superhero uniform. Fuck.

The next day you felt like you were walking on a tightrope. When you see Peter, what should you say? What should you do? “Hey buddy thanks for the amazing sex, let's do it again sometime?” You wash your face with ice-cold water to prepare yourself for the day, you knew it wouldn’t be that easy.

You tried to go about your day normally. Morning run, then breakfast, then some light training. You couldn’t ignore the faint soreness between your legs, reminding you of yesterday. You manage to go a few hours without running into Peter until the group all met to discuss some upcoming events.

You could hardly focus on what was being said, you could only stare at Peter across the table, quickly looking down or away when he noticed you staring. You were going to need to come up with a better plan than avoiding him.

You resume your normal spot across from him at lunch and strike up a conversation as normal. He plays along but you can tell he is feeling the same way as you. All through your mind ran thoughts of “what if he regrets it,” what if he didn’t like it,” “what if he doesn’t like me.”

The two of you keep up the charade for three days. Tiptoeing around each other and playing it up when you were together. You even managed to do your normal Wednesday movie night without too much awkward tension, but not none.

By the fourth day, it was all too much. You weren’t willing to sacrifice your friendship with Peter for anything, but at this point, you needed to get this all out and in the open. You were tired of holding your breath.

Sitting back on his bed, reading a book casually while he typed furiously away on his laptop, you decided that now would be as good a time as any.

“Your stupid spider hand sex-toy has completely ruined everything for me,” you start off jokingly, this being the first time either of you had mentioned it, “honestly, I can’t even get myself off anymore.”

Peter whips his head around, swiveling towards you in his desk chair, “that wasn’t my intention.”

“I guess it’s a compliment to you if anything,” you were trying to keep the conversation light.

“I did make some changes to the coding…”

“Changes? I promise you, Peter, nothing about that needed to be changed.”

“Well,” his hand came up to the back of his neck, “I figured out how to detach the hand from the rest of the suit, so it functions as an independent unit.”

Your eyes went a little wide. You cocked your head to the side, giving him a look through squinted eyes.

“So, I could make a copy, for you… if you want.”

“I don’t know, Peter,” here you go, it’s now or never, “I just don’t think it would be the same.”

His adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he harshly swallowed.

“I think I want to try it again,” you sit up on the bed, “as long as you want to.”

You knew that you were taking a risk. What if you had read this whole situation wrong? Maybe you could play it off as a joke or something, find a way to make things normal between you two again…

“Yes,” he responds with a nod, “I…would very much like to do that again. For science or whatever, you can test the new product.”

This was the final leap, you stood up from your spot on the bed and walked over to him. “I don’t want to do it for science, Peter,” you stood in front of where he sat, “I just…want to do it with you.”

You searched deep in his eyes for a reaction, hoping he knew what you meant. The seconds of silence were killing you, but before you could backtrack, start to explain yourself or cover it up with a joke, he wraps his strong hands around your waist and pulls you into his lap.

“Not for science?” he asks, hands firmly planted on your sides. You slowly lean in, pressing your chest flat to his, feeling his body heat radiate onto you. Looking up through your lashes you meet his gaze, not finding any indication that he wanted you to stop.

You had imagined kissing your best friend a million times. Dramatically in the rain, under the mistletoe, softly in the morning, quickly as a goodbye before he left, every day you had thought about kissing him. You never quite imagined being propped up in a swivel desk chair, and you never quite imagined that he would have already seen you naked beforehand, but this wasn’t imaginary, this was happening.

Your lips parted and met his, the space between you wonderfully dwindling away to nothing. You felt like your heart was in your throat as your lips slipped together easily, as if you had done it a thousand times before. Your hands tentatively move up to the sides of his face, cupping his smiling cheeks.

You grin into the kiss too, unable to stop yourself. You want to pull away to look at him, to tell him how you feel, but you couldn’t help but lean back in for more, the feeling of his lips tingled on yours as you pulled away.

“Is this…” he whispered to you, “is this just because you found out that my spider suit can be used as the world’s best vibrator? Or…do you actually like me?”

Your heart ached at his question, hoping he already knew the answer and was just asking to be precautionary, in that signature Peter Parker way.

“Peter,” your forehead was pressed to his, fingers now running through his hair, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long, I’ve liked you for so long, you have no idea. When we were joking around the other day about you using the suit on me, I thought it would be my only chance to get close to you, because I didn’t think you’d ever see me that way. It was stupid and I should have told you first. But I want you to know now, that I’m so in love with you it hurts.”

His lips frantically met yours, kissing you almost as if he wouldn’t get the chance to again. Wrapping you tightly in his arms he lifts you up and gently sets you down on the bed, laying you back to your original position. He kisses down the corner of your mouth to your cheek, and then your jaw.

“Y/n,” he holds himself up over you, “I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

You sit up to meet his lips, holding his face close to yours. You shift back, letting him join you on the bed. You wrap your legs around his midsection and flip him over so you were straddling him, on top.

“So,” you say in between sucking spots down his neck, “about using that hand on me again...”