#i mean i have but they shouldn't be posted anywhere

[avopumpkin]

There are two things that come to my mind about your trademark: the way you write and the humor

Cute emoticons at the end of the paragraphs are definitely something I associate with you. In general the politeness and sweet manner of your replies are very nice <333

And the memes. The second I looked at your header with spiderman lizard (I won't be surprised both if it's canon event or just a funny image) I felt the silly vibes. And due to Gin pfp I felt this "peak comedy lil prankster" energy. Also I loved those memes you sent me on Halloween :)

Awww you just made me really happy. 🥺💖 I'm really happy that you can associate something so nice with me. 🥺💖 (I'm screaming only internally because it's almost 2am and I'm not alone at home)

Sometimes I forget that people might have an opinion about me, so it truly means a lot that you say this. <3

Spider-Dino for sure was my canon event the moment I saw it the first time, lmao. It was the most beautiful moment of my life. I WANT TO VISIT SPIDER-DINO AND I'M TAKING EVERYONE. But where's Miguel when we need him the most... 😞

Thank you again for your kind words, they mean a lot to me. <3

[aihaloos]

Mwahahahaha my first real fic and of course it has to be Tsukasa angst and contain mafukasa drama.

(Note: If you want context for the scene attached read the tags)

I'm clearly overcompensating for the lack of Tsukasa angst in canon but leave me be okay. SEGA neglects Tsukasa like his parents. I can do what I want. And of course, I'm a sucker for happy endings. I won't nake it end on horrible note.

And I'll try to make it good quality I promise. English isn't my first language [cry] but I'm most comfortable with it and people have told me I'm pretty fluent so hopefully it won't be full of shit...

(Hopefully I've also grown past my wattpad fanfic writer tendencies (I love people on wattpad but a lot of fics there that features x reader would just copy and paste the script, add a bit of description, rewrite tiny bits (aka write the characters fall in love at first sight), and leave it like that. (Or maybe that's twst/kny/mha exclusive... I don't know.) (Granted I do still have some scenes like that because it is a "rewrite" of the main story, but I won't copy n paste the entire thing I swear) Don't get me wrong I still love those fics, they have their charm, but I know I shouldn't be that repetitive.). I still have them, and I'm trying to shake them off...)

[hannahchronism]

do you think the people making "tumblr is going to poison the AIs lolol" just. don't know about the decade+ many hundreds of old writing blogs that were writing genuine short fiction and no longer have the ability to login / even know that this is happening to toggle the thing on their old blogs and so are about to have their words scraped in what will be a hugely valuable Get for programs that are actively trying to supplant creative pursuits through parsing the works of every creative they can find, good and bad, or

[fortes-fortuna-iogurtum]

...why is the one episode when they're in the most Real Direct Actual conflict the one where they're actually the kindest and most gentle with each other. why can't they be like this when William isn't courting someone else???

[ohnoitstbskyen]

I deleted the ask, but someone wrote one basically saying "why do you post reaction videos to Helluva Boss? Don't you know the show exploits its workers and they're overworked and get burned out?"

And, I mean, I love your energy, person who asked, definitely hold on to those values and speak up about this. But also, I am afraid I might have some bad news for you about literally the whole entire animation industry.

As near as I can make out from the sparse journalistic reporting that's been done on SpindleHorse -- and as a sidebar, please for the love of god read actual reporting about these things and not just callout posts and fandom discourse -- as near as I can make out, SpindleHorse as a studio is neither all that much better nor all that much worse than basically anywhere else in the industry on their level. It seems like it is (or was? Hazbin Hotel seems to be run differently) a studio mostly run by contracting people on a project-by-project basis, which leads to a crapton of turnover, and a huge need for organizing and onboarding, which according to the reporting I have read, the producers and freelancers have struggled to balance and manage properly, which has negatively impacted a number of the workers.

Top that with the usual catty, clique-based backbiting, sniping and poorly managed conflict resolution that's just kinda endemic in creative environments mostly staffed by twentysomethings and stressed out freelancers, and you have the recipe for a workplace where a lot of people are going to have a great time and feel creatively fulfilled, and a lot of people are going to come away feeling justifiably burnt the fuck out and exploited.

All of this is... not especially unusual for the animation industry, or indeed for any creative industry. Which is not to say that it is good, or that it should be allowed to be normal, or that it shouldn't be reported on and criticized (and please for the love of god support unionization efforts because that's the only thing that will actually address these kinds of systemic problems). It's just to say that if those kinds of issues are the line in the sand you draw where you refuse to engage with a studio's output...

Then, for starters, say goodbye to basically all of anime, because the Japanese animation industry is actively in a state of crisis trying to recruit new talent because its working conditions and pay are so astonishingly abysmal. And the horror stories that escape from that industry make the issues at SpindleHorse look like summer camp at times.

But you also have to say goodbye to a lot of American and European animation. Please do not imagine that Disney and its subcontractors, or that Nickelodeon or Warner Bros, are benevolent employers. They exploit their staff brutally and are currently trying to crush the labor value of animation with threats of generative AI being used to replace jobs. But those corporations also have extremely well-funded PR departments and the ability to silence employees with NDAs and threats of blackballing, so you don't get to hear as many of the horror stories as you might from a smaller independent studio that's less able to silence criticism by holding people's careers hostage.

All of this is to say that 1) it's valid and important to have criticism of both large and small-scale animation studios, and to keep the well-being and happiness of the workers higher in your priorities than the output of Products™.

And 2) if you're going to have a principle for what kinds of problems make a studio's output morally untouchable for you, and what kinds of problems you think should make a studio's output untouchable to other people, you do need to apply that principle consistently to the entire industry, and not just to the independent animation studio that happens to be surrounded by the internet's most inflammatory fandom discourse.

If you don't apply that principle consistently, maybe don't send reproachful messages to strangers scolding them for not living up to your standards, and even if you do apply that principle consistently, maybe still don't do that, because it's mostly quite annoying, and doesn't really do anything to support animation workers struggling for better working conditions.

The Animation Guild in the US is currently in the middle of a bargaining process with their industry, and they have a social media press kit as well as relevant talking points on their website which you can use to post in solidarity with the workers. If it comes to a full industry strike, consider donating to their strike funds to help them maintain pressure. Outside of the US, try and find out what (if any) local unions exist for animation workers, and maybe sign up to their mailing lists. They will let you know what kind of support they need from you.

[haveagarbageday]

Got a secret, can you keep it? \\ Charles Leclerc, Max Verstappen (Lestappen)

summary: You're looking for your runaway driver in the paddock when you see something you shouldn't have. Before you know it, you become a part of this well-kept secret.

additional info: I'm on a roll! No, actually, I posted the Max one while I was at work, and then I had half a day left with nothing to do. This idea came to my mind and I had to write it down.

“The moment I find you, Lando, I’m going to skin you,” you hissed into your phone as you searched the paddock for the problem child.

But he only laughed at you, clearly enjoying the hide and seek game he had decided to play with you today. The problem is that he stopped in front of a camera, ready to give an interview, but two sentences in, his attention was diverted by some drama in the background, and he left to check it out. You had to apologize several times, promising to catch him and drag him back to do this properly. But damn it, he was good at hiding. This wasn’t the first time he hid from you, and something told you he could be literally anywhere, even in another team’s motorhome. Anything was possible with this little gremlin.

You reached a quieter part of the paddock that was full of spaces protected from the crowd, the perfect spot for Lando to hide. So, you methodically began to search for him, not missing any of the hidden corners and narrow alleys between the buildings either, but you found nothing. Your frustration was growing with each passing second, with each empty space that seemed to be free of him. When you reached the last one of the alleys, you saw movement in the back, and you were happy that you finally found the runaway driver.

Well, you couldn’t be more wrong. Because it wasn’t Lando, and it wasn’t just one person either. The signature blue and red colors of their shirts made it clear which team they were from, but when you looked at their faces, blood froze in your veins. You knew about all the jokes, all the fan theories and hopes, but never, not even in your wildest dreams could you imagine this happening. Sure, they clearly looked more at ease in each other’s company after sessions in recent years, which was good, people loved it, yet you still couldn’t wrap your head around the sight in front of you.

After seeing them almost swallow each other, Lestappen wasn’t just an urban legend to you anymore. Fuck. You wished you didn’t see that. You could already feel the heavy weight on your shoulder.

Before they could spot you, you decided to do the sensible thing and turned around to leave as quietly and as soon as you could. But not two steps later you heard a voice behind you. “Wait, let’s talk about this, okay?” Max said, taking a step closer to you, his hand resting on Charles’s arm.

Letting out the breath you’d been holding, you folded your hands behind your back and took a step closer to them. “I didn’t see anything, I swear. My lips are sealed, you don’t need to worry about that,” you were quick to assure them. Silence fell between the three of you, but then you remembered why you were here in the first place. “Have you guys seen Lando? He’s being difficult today.”

“Have you tried his driver’s room? He’s probably in the most obvious place,” Max offered, knowing the Brit well enough to give you his best guess.

Okay, you already knew he was smart, but this was the best idea you had heard in a while. Lando would surely pull something like this; chilling in his room, maybe playing some games, then giving you a surprised look as he went: “What do you mean? I’ve been here the whole time!” Wouldn’t be the first prank he pulled on you, that’s for sure.

You thanked him, then turned to leave again, and this time they didn’t stop you. But you heard murmuring, a quiet conversation that didn’t sound panicked, in fact, it sounded like they were discussing something excitedly. Whatever it was, it wasn’t your business. None of this was your business, so you were trying your damn best to forget the whole thing.

The problems began the next day after qualifying, when you were in the media pen with Lando, watching him like a hawk, and shepherding him around to make sure he did exactly what he was supposed to. You were between two interviews, discussing a few things, when Max approached you and stopped next to you to talk to his friend. You greeted him like you normally would, but otherwise you didn’t dare to move or speak, afraid it would become obvious you were hiding something. It probably takes time to get comfortable with the secret you knew, it couldn’t be more than that.

But then you felt a jolt of electricity run through your body as Max casually put a hand on your back while he talked, making it look like it was just a friendly move and nothing more. How could this be an innocent move when you could feel his thumb pressing into your skin, drawing slow circles to drive you crazy? You glanced over at him, and you could have sworn you saw a smug smirk tugging at his lips for a moment when he felt your eyes on him.

Lando was oblivious to the whole scene, he was just smiling brightly and giggling as they talked, too lost in their conversation to notice the way the Red Bull driver teased you. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed the reporter you’d been waiting for signal you that they were ready for the chat with your driver, so you apologized for interrupting them, then gently pushed him in the right direction. This left you and Max alone, and he finally let his hand drop to his side as he turned to you, the mischievous glint in his eyes giving away that whatever he was about to say would make you mad.

“How does it feel to know?” he asked casually, sipping on his Red Bull as if you were talking about the weather. Your eyes turned to him, silently begging him to drop this topic, but he didn’t seem to be interested in letting you off the hook. “We talked last night, you know. It feels so good that someone apart from the two of us knows the truth. Seriously, it’s so tiring to hide from the whole world, not having the chance to talk about the highs and the lows or ask for an outsider’s opinion when there’s a fight or disagreement.”

At first, you were just the kind of friend they’d been waiting for, serving as a neutral outsider when they needed another opinion about something. Then you began to hang out with them, one at the time, eventually serving as a glue between the two rivals who hadn’t really been seen together outside the paddock. Because one day you followed a well-prepared choreography at a bistro, making it look like you were out with Charles, while Max jumped in to get some food to go. Then you noticed each other, started talking, and he ended up taking a seat and joining you for dinner.

The same thing happened a few weeks later, when you and Max went to a club, where surprise, surprise, Charles showed up to greet you. The three of you got comfortable on a curvy couch in a corner of the VIP section, downing shots like there was no tomorrow, too lost in your little bubble to notice what you were doing. Because Max had an arm around your shoulder, talking to you while Charles moved forward to capture your lips in a drunken kiss, and only then did you catch the Dutchman whisper into your ear how much fun the three of you could have if you went home with them that night.

You only realized their relationship turned into your relationship, when Lando asked you about a photo of the three of you hanging out in the paddock on a race weekend, chatting and joking freely over your breakfasts. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with them off the track too. Why don’t you ever hang out with me when you’re in Monaco? You’re so mean,” he said with a pout.

Friends. That’s what you were for outsiders. It was good. With the days spent together getting more frequent though, you knew it was only a matter of time before someone sniffed out the truth. All the nights spent tangled up in bed, with the two of them making a competition out of pulling as many orgasms out of you as they could, surely had a toll on you. Physically, you were more than okay, they made sure of that, but being in this relationship was surely difficult to handle mentally.

“I’m not hanging out with you, you muppet, because I might drown you in a glass of water after five minutes. Babysitting you on race weekends is more than enough, thank you,” you told him with your tongue stuck out.

This conversation made you think, it made you reconsider what you’d been doing in the past months with the boys. For one, it was a dangerous game. Hanging out together more and more, especially when you were at a place where they couldn’t keep themselves under control thanks to the level of alcohol in their bloodstreams, the risk of someone finding out their little secret was higher than before you had been dragged into their life. Then there was the fact that you felt like shit. It felt like you were a piece that didn’t fit. They were so good together, why would you stand between them?

You knew that ending a relationship in a text was the worst, but you didn’t want to give them the chance to start negotiating. So, after the race weekend was over, you sent them a text that you wouldn’t go with them this time, then left the group chat, blocked the both of them, and got on the plane back home. The plan was simple: you would spend a few days watching movies and TV shows that were in your backlog while eating unhealthy snacks, and maybe you would meet some of your friends if they still remembered you.

What could possibly go wrong with that?

Well, everything. It was only your first full day at home when your doorbell rang in the early afternoon, and when you opened it, you found a very disheveled Charles standing there, watching you with a disapproving look on his face. You were ready to tell him to leave you alone, but then he gave you the puppy eyes as he let out a tired sigh, and there was no way you could shut the door in his face. You stepped aside and let him in, stopping in the living room door as you watched him sit down on the couch, and when he patted the empty space next to him, you were stupid enough to do exactly what he wanted. If things went like this, you would agree to whatever he came up with. 

“Blocking us? Really?” he asked you, the hint of disappointment not missing from his voice. “You could’ve at least talked to us in person, give us a proper explanation instead of disappearing like that. What the hell were you thinking? We would meet at race weekends anyway, you can’t think we wouldn’t corner you there.”

Looking away, you gulped and thought about what to say. There were so many things you wanted to say, so many stupid, fake explanations for your decision, but deep inside you knew you had to be honest with him. “You were fine together, Charles. Before I found out the truth, you had everything under control, and you were happy. But then you dragged me into your little secret, eventually poisoning our so-called friendship with casual sex, and–”

“So-called friendship? And casual sex?” he asked, his head slightly tilted to the side, eyes narrowed as he watched you. “Did it ever mean anything to you?” 

You hesitated, unsure of what to say. You really liked them, but the fact their relationship had a lot more history always made you feel like someone who didn’t belong. To you it was casual, just an outlet for getting rid of all the stress your job and keeping their secret came with. Just sex, nothing more. No emotions were supposed to be involved. Sure, they were friends, but it wasn’t love.

Apparently, you were an open book to Charles, because he ran a hand through his hair with a groan as he watched you. “We trusted you.”

“You can still trust me, I won’t tell anyone,” you assured him. 

He let out a desperate laugh. “It’s not that kind of trust, we know you wouldn’t tell anyone. I’m talking about us, about our relationship. We thought you felt the same way we did, that you loved us too. You could’ve been honest, you could’ve told us it didn’t mean anything to you before we caught feelings,” he told you, his voice forced to stay calm. 

“Charles, just try to hear me out. The two of you, that’s the relationship that can work in the long term,” you began to explain. “Me? I’m just… I don’t even know what I was to you. A plaything? A brand new shiny toy?”

“You’re not some toy!” he snapped, finally showing you how he truly felt about this conversation. “You, Max, and me? This could work so well if you just stopped being stubborn. Okay, I admit, we never thought about the possibility of a relationship like this, we always thought it would be just the two of us, but that’s because we had to keep it a secret. But you finding us that day? That was the best thing that could happen to us. We love you just as much as we love each other, that’s what you need to understand,” he explained as he grabbed your chin to force you to look at him. 

You took a deep breath to calm yourself, but the way he was watching you, silently begging you to accept the truth… It was too much. Tears began to roll down your cheeks, but he wiped them away, he kept telling you that it was okay, that everything would be okay, and there was no reason to cry. He repeated this enough times to make you believe it. You were beginning to believe they truly loved you, and you actually thought about the possibility of continuing this from where you had left off. Once your tears stopped coming, he leaned in to kiss you with a small smile on his lips. 

His stupid green eyes were mesmerizing as he watched you, and no matter how hard you wanted to resist, how badly you wanted to be strong and step back, you just couldn’t get yourself to say no to him. Sadly, he was well aware of this ability of his, he had used it on both Max and you a few times before to get what he wanted, and this time he looked just as smug as he always did after a win. 

“Pack a suitcase, because you’re coming with me,” he whispered to you. “Until you get ready, I’ll call Max to tell him the good news.” 

You began to wonder how long it would take you to admit to yourself just how important they had always been to you. Because they were important, no matter how many times you told yourself this meant nothing to you, otherwise you wouldn't be in your bedroom now, packing the suitcase as he asked. You wanted to please him, you wanted them to be happy, and why would you feel this way if you were indifferent?

Maybe this time you would be able to let yourself go and enjoy the relationship, and you would finally believe this could work.

As you were thinking about this, your phone that you left on your nightstand began to vibrate and the screen lit up. You picked it up and saw a message from Lando: “Have you seen this? Max's jet is at an airport near you, but I know for a fact he's at home. WHAT ARE YOU HIDING????”

Okay, maybe letting yourself go wasn't an option.

[warblogs17282]

I'm not done talking about how stupid of a take that 'Stolas is selfish because he chose Blitz over Octavia' is.

But this time, I want to talk about the implications that Blitz being executed has.

Let's start with the I.M.P crew, Loona loses her loving father, who she very clearly cares a lot for, Moxxie and Millie lose their best friend and their jobs at the same time, as the asmodean crystal is registered in specifically Blitz's name, meaning that Blitz dying means the human killing business dies with it, because they have no other reliable options for getting to the living world. Fizzarolli loses his best friend as well that he only recently got back into his life.

Plus, Blitz being executed would just send Satan's message loud and clear to all of imp-kind, which basically amounted to 'We'll kill you if you step out of line. We'll kill you if you even attempt to rise above your station we forced upon you. We'll kill you if you ever dare to challenge our power and authority. We'll kill you if you aren't our little obedient puppets.'

Stolas knows that Blitz is a father, Stolas knows that the Asmodean Crystal is registered in Blitz's name, and if chose to let Blitz die, he'd have to live with the fact that his choice caused so much suffering and pain to others, including to other people Stolas knows Blitz cares about deeply, showing that the stakes have always been much higher than just 'Blitz vs Octavia', even for Stolas.

Stolas went into that trial fully expecting to be killed, Stolas went into that trial assuming that Blitz would eventually be okay after his death, to allow Blitz to keep his found family and keep being able to provide for himself and others with I.M.P, to allow Blitz to keep making that name for himself.

You might be thinking at this point, 'but wait, then why did Stolas mention his daughter after he lost his powers and such then?', and I have the answer to that question right here.

Again, Stolas went into that trial fully expecting to be executed, and in s1 e2, during that song Stolas sang to Octavia as a kid, Stolas says "When I'm gone, you'll be okay…", which is quite literally saying that Octavia will be okay, even in the event of Stolas' death, which I'm pretty confident in saying that Stolas genuinely believes in this. I just don't think that Stolas factored in Stella and Andrealphus being abusive and manipulative towards Octavia specifically, which I believe perfectly explains why Stolas only mentioned Octavia after he got his actual punishment.

Plus, Stolas knew that Octavia would inherit everything of his in the case of his own death, because he literally ensured that everything and I mean everything would pass to Octavia, as Andrealphus bluntly points in s2 e4, alongside giving Octavia the chance to experience happiness, to be able to choose happiness, even when he's dead.

Finally, I shouldn't even need to say this but,

1: We all know that Stolas would literally sacrifice everything for Octavia, he literally was sacrificing his own happiness for so many years so that Octavia could live a 'normal life'.

2: Stolas had to make a split-second decision there, he had zero time to think anything over, plus Octavia wasn't anywhere close to being in mortal danger, but Blitz was.

In conclusion, if you all want to insist on making this thing a trolley problem, then I beg of you, remember the problem is nowhere near purely 'Blitz vs Octavia' for all of the reasons I've brought up in this post, and also remember that it's Andrealphus and Stella who tied them down on the tracks to begin with.

[petermorwood]

Recent article on NPR about the history of artificial light somewhat frustrated me -- they portrayed all of pre-kerosene history as dark and heinously expensive at all times. Thing is, the writers based their findings solely on tallow candles, & ignored oil lamps, beeswax candles, clever use of refraction & outdoor light including moon/starlight... Also seemed to ignore the ubiquity of hearths / cook fires. Was wondering if you'd be willing to talk about non-tallow light? This isn't to ignore that truly, artificial lighting WAS much more difficult & expensive for much of human history, but acting like tallow candles were the ONLY light source seems very silly! (Plus your other lovely post about bottles of water used to make those candles more efficient via refraction & focus)

I'm betting the article you mean is this one - which refers back to this one.

For matching reference, my own posts about period lighting are here, One and Two, including observations about painting walls white, how to light candles and lamps without matches, and several other matters.

*****

It didn't take too much listening before I got tetchy, because the first half of this podcast seems more about mocking how WEIRD and PRIMITIVE old-time people were, than passing on any useful information.

Despite the presence of Jane Brox (author of "Brilliant: The Evolution of Artificial Light") whale oil only gets touched on in passing, and olive oil isn't mentioned at all.

Instead she starts talking about using oily seabirds (stormy petrels) as "candles", despite this scholarly study concluding that it was something talked about far more than done, besides being so very, very localised that its relevance to the history of lighting is very, very small.

But hey, WEIRD and PRIMITIVE, right?

*****

By contrast, making candles was so commonplace that it was another of those jobs which created surnames. Fletcher once put feathers on arrows, Cooper made barrels, Fisher, Miller, Baker and Farmer are obvious, and Chandler used to make candles.

Lampier, of course, made lamps, which helped keep those naked candle-flames away from anywhere they shouldn't touch. The man on the left is making the lantern bodies, the one on the right is shaving sheets of horn as windows.

It's cheaper than glass, less easily broken yet is translucent enough, when shaved properly thin, to give quite adequate light.

*****

The podcast has a digression about measuring the light output of a reproduction Ancient Babylonian lamp. Here's an original and a repro.

Yet that too says nothing about what fuel the lamp is or should be burning - olive oil, traded all over the Mediterranean by ancient olive-growing cultures.

These are Roman oil-lamps, from simple and cheap to elaborate and costly.

As for beeswax, so far as the podcast is concerned might as well not exist, despite being a by-product of honey, which was THE principal pre-sugar sweetener for centuries when not being made into all that mead whose existence, production and quaffing nobody questions.

Oh yeah, and then there was the amazed discovery (2:40 / 1:25, depending on which you're listening to) that melted beef fat "...smells really nasty, like, ANIMAL nasty,"

Why is this guy surprised? It's part of an animal!

*****

It's the same sort of infotainment ignorance as displayed by this TikTok twit, right up to complaining about the effort involved in preparation of anything because not having powered appliances was so labour-intensive, oh woe. Yes, it was, welcome to any historical period before about 1920. That's where "the daily grind" originates.

However the implication (listen, it's there) that cattle were raised just to provide fat for candles is ludicrous. The fat was a by-product, not a main one, and was often a butcher's side-line, while members of the Chandlers' Guild only worked with superior beeswax.

I don't think you could make candles like these with tallow:

...and you definitely couldn't make one meant to be hand-held.

Picture evidence shows, by their clothing, the class of society who bought these, and tallow-greasy fingers would have been a no-no.

A Chandler didn't make individual candles. By the time that fresh batch is hung up, the first batch away down at the end is cool enough to be dipped again.

A chandler's shop in a medieval city would look very similar, and often had a horizontal wheel on which to hang each batch of candles, rotating them up and around to cool, then back to the dipping pot. Non-modern people may not have had modern tech or time-and-motion studies, but they weren't stupid.

*****

By contrast, the podcast's disparaging attitude of WEIRD and PRIMITIVE is emphasised by what seems a deliberate avoidance of anything which counters it (examples of that in my own posts) and finally at 11.24 / 9:50 came this:

"Even when you get all the way to the 1700s (...) most people are still subsistence farmers, living in some kind of hut, trying to grow enough food not to starve to death (...) and light? Light still comes from finding stuff that's lying around and just lighting it on fire."

Some kind of hut...

Stuff that's lying around...

After making such a declaration, I'm surprised - since they'd been implying it for half the podcast - someone didn't just go ahead and announce that "there's some lovely filth down here..."

That's when I stopped listening.

Enough is enough, and I'd had it.

*****

ETA:

cc: @asmuchasidliketo :->

Here's a photo of what purports to be a Petrel (not petrol, that's something else) Candle, held in the Pitt-Rivers Museum, Oxford. It's mentioned in that scholarly article I linked above.

Just as "one swallow doesn't make a summer", so one - and only one - known example of this, which may have been a fake-up to spoof the Southerners, doesn't prove it was a common or even rare practice.

There's another reason to take this with a big pinch of salt, so maybe Jane Brox was on a low-sodium diet when she wrote her book.

Creatures with a layer of fat or blubber for insulation all have it like any other form of insulation, on the outside, where it does some good. A wick passed through the inside couldn't draw on it for fuel since there's a layer of muscle and another of internal organs for the oil to get through first.

The cropped-off bottle just visible to the left is a far more likely way seabirds became lamp fuel: by rendering out their oil. This oil is from the Northern Fulmar, Fulmaris glaciaris (or glacialis, I've seen both. Same bird regardless).

Incidentally, the Wikipedia article on European Storm Petrel mentions a supernatural connection, that the petrels were the souls of drowned sailors, and killing them is unlucky.

Not just killing them but making them into candles sounds like A Bad Idea, and is yet another reason why, IMO, the candle thing may be a folktale, or a deliberate leg-pull, or...

Let's just say "improbable" and leave it there. :-P

[v3lv3tsin]

bad time, good time: nishimura riki

| pairning: nishimura riki x reader

I genre: fashionmajor!niki, lawmajor!reader

I warnings: no warnings <3

I word count: 1.5k

I stefy's note: i know i should be focusing on the jungwon series but i suddenly got this idea at 3 am (i mean who isn't obsessed with korean convenience stores now lol), so enjoy :)

[ BACK TO MASTERLIST ]

"Towards the middle of the thirteenth century inquisitorial procedure..." You felt your eyes glaze over the page once again, trying to focus on the words once again. Finally checking the clock on the wall opposite to your desk on the right side, to your surprise it showed 2 am. 

No wonder why you felt tired in the first place. You've been studying and writing assignments ever since you woke up. Exams were coming soon so you couldn't and shouldn't be waisiting any time. Getting you out of your thoughts was the sound of your stomach rumbling which reminded you of your hunger. 

Shit. Yeah. Maybe some snacks and ramen would help. 

That's how you found yourself looking at the ramen isle in the small convenience not sure what kind of buldak ramen to have for dinner. Holding tightly onto the plastic glass cup filled with ice and the grape ade plastic bag you tiptoed hoping to reach the top shelf. You couldn't reach the one you wanted, before an arm extended from behind you and grabbed the ramen cup for you. 

"Here!" Niki said, handing the ramen to you. Turning around to take the cup ramen from his hand you're met with a pair of brown eyes. The mysterious man was tall from what you could grasp. 

Not wanting to stare for longer than expected, you answer. "Thanks." Pausing for a moment, you continue on the same surpirsed tone not expecting him to help you. "You didn't have to." Taking the cup ramen from his  hand you take another look at him. 

"Carbonara, huh?" Niki asked with a small grin on his face as he looks at the floor, then at your choice of noddles for dinner. It shouldn't be a surprise that you would choose the carbonara noodles since they're the best. Of course. 

Seeing your confused face he decides to tease you. "You might need some cheese for that." Niki points at the sides isle hoping to make you understand what he meant in the first place.  

"Yeah." You answer realizing that you forgot to get some cheese as buldak noodles are always better with a bit of cheese. Pausing to somehow manage to explain yourself you continue on the same confessing tone. "I totally forgot."

"I'm Niki, by the way." Niki says finally introducing himself, thinking it was high time he does so since you have been talking for some time now. 

Extending his hand you take it hesitantly before introducing yourself to him. "Y/N." Shaking his hand you give him a shy smile before turning to leave and get the cheese you talked about until then. 

"I guess i'll see you around." Niki adds seeing that you looked almost rushed to be anywhere but here. It was clear that he wanted to continue talking to you, but that was not the case for you. 

Or so he thought.

Laying down onto the bed tiredly you open the history book to get back to reading you think to yourself. "Niki." Taking a bite from the noodles followed by a sip of the grape ade you bought moments ago you decide to check his instagram, hoping to at least to find some more information about him. To say the least, you were curious.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

|  INSTAGRAM POST - NOV 15th.

niki_kikiki

Liked by wonkiten, byfsjy and 500 others

niki_kikiki ⏱️👔

View all 200 comments

wonkiten he's not a baby mandu anymore

icehoon where's my credit

user01 THE SECOND PICTURE?! OMGG NI-KII 😫

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

What the actual fuck? How does he look so handsome? And in a suit also. What's his major? 

Taking another bite from the noodles as you decide to check another photo from his instagram hoping to see him in a different outfit and a hint probably of his major. That's when you clicked on the most recent photo that he had posted only to see that it was posted 5 hours ago. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

|  INSTAGRAM POST - 5 hours ago. 

niki_kikiki

Liked by icehoon, catseong and 1000 others

niki_kikiki 🪩

View all 500 comments

catseong coolest dude i'm so serious

byfsjy WOAHH OKAYY BUDDY OKAY

user02 THE THIRD PICTURE HELLO!?!!!?

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

As you were just about to take a sip of the grape ade you boughts hours ago seeing those pictures definetly shocked you. He looked so good. So hot.

Finally finishing your meal after taking one last look at Nikis instagram photos you get the history book that has been onto the bed the whole time. Looking over the pages trying to get back to reading the last word you remember is "Inquisition" before darkness steals your vision living you blind.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Days later you found yourself in the same convenience store looking at the same ramen isle trying to choose what to have for dinner. Shaking you off your thoughts, as you were about to reach for your usual carbonara buldak noodles is a deep voice, almost familiar. Behind you. 

Putting his hand against the metalic shelf, consequently trapping you between his body and the isle. "I didn't think i would see you again." Niki confesses in a low voice. 

Turning around to be met with the same dark brown eyes from two days ago as you slightly blushed. Tilting your head you look at him confused for a second as you didn't expect to see him either. Especially not at this hour. "Well i'm here."  You answer him not knowing exactly what to say. 

Coming closer with his body to yours, Niki extends his hand to take two carbonara buldak noodles cups. He was close. Too close. Taking both of the noddle cups into his hand and holding them into his hand Niki finally answers you. "I was thinking..." Pausing for a second to rub the back of his neck as he looked down onto the floor he continues in a low voice. "Maybe we could eat together here."

Holding onto the plastic cup filled with ice and this time, a peach ice tea you looked at him and then onto the floor blushing. One thing was for sure, that you didn't expect to hear him say that. Before you could answer him or at least let him know what you felt about this idea his deep voice interrupts you. 

"Here...I meant anywhere, not only here." Niki explains himself to you, hoping also for a positive answer. "We could eat somewhere else." Niki adds as he continues to explain himself to you. Giving you more ideas to where you two could eat together.

"I would love to" You answer him as you come closer hoping to calm him down as you could see that he wanted to continue talking. Looking at what he was holding into his hand you then decide to ask him in a teasing voice wanting to have less tension between the two of you. "Are you only getting ramen?"

"No, of course not." Niki answers before turning around to get a plastic cup filled with ice from the freezer only to be followed by you on his way. While you were walking to the freezer a jeonju bibimbap triangle kimbap caught your eye so you decide to take it. Turning around Niki eyes you before taking the plastic cup and his drink of choice, a caramel ice americano.

"Since we're eating together i was wondering maybe we could get some snacks." He suggests on a shy tone wanting to spend more time with you as the last time he wasn't able to. He wanted to get to know you.

Nodding you follow him to the chips isle where you took different kinds, some that you have tried before, some that you haven't. Laughing about your height was also Niki as most of the times you couldn't reach the top shelf. Finally reaching the register with the basket full of things you and Niki both wanted to try, when you wanted to pay he didn't let you, with the excuse that "it's on him."

It's not a date,right? It's a date. Is it?

Was all you could think of when he decided to pay for the food. Sitting down at the table at the convenience store as it started raining only yours and his laughs could be heard. Niki would mostly tease you about your snack choices or even the simple fact of what games you play.

Your prediction from days was true, he was in fact a fashion major. No surprise there. Niki would talk about how much he loves it because he is able to express himself. Later in the evening you found yourselves walking on the way to your apartment as he especially mentioned that "a girl shouldn't go alone so late at night."

Before entering the apartment, without any warning, you come closer to Niki with the original intent of kissing his cheek and saying "thanks a lot for the night." But he had other plans. That's when you could feel his lips on yours. You on your tiptoes having to reach his height as you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him closer.

"Wow." Taking a deep breath after he pulled away that's all he could say. "I...." Pausing for a second he rubbs the back of his neck while looking at you before continuing. "I guess i'll see you around."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Days later you get a notification of a post you have been tagged on. Opening your phone, while in the middle of the contract law lecture you're surprised to see a photo of Niki and you, along with two other pictures of him with the outfit he wore that night. You didn't expect that, so it surely surprised you.

It was cute. He was cute.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

|  INSTAGRAM POST - NOV 20th.

niki_kikiki

Liked by yourusername, 01boy and 2000 others

niki_kikiki 🌃

View all 1000 comments

yourusername <3

01boy broo that's why you missed game night

ppysnoo cuties

user03 and now he has a girlfriend

USERNAMES GUIDE:

1. niki_kikiki = niki

2. wonkiten = jungwon 

3. catseong = jay 

4. icehoon = sunghoon 

5. byfsjy = jake 

6. 01boy = heeseung 

7. ppysnoo = sunoo

© V3LV3TSIN — do not translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[queenie-the-court-jester]

HII, saw your post on wanting asks, well here 🫶 I love talking so, and specifically on playboy yandere!! I'm a sucker for angst and yanderes falling into insanity honestly, so let me ramble a bit

- imagine if reader graduates highschool and gets an overseas scholarships!! They also convince their family to move together with them so Kameron can't hurt or use them to blackmail reader. So with only a break up text saying like "bye manwhore 😍😍", blocking and deleting all their social media, I wonder how long and how far would he take to get reader back again? Would he inherit his parent's riches, hire some private investigatiors to find reader and find the country they're living in, expand his business over to their country in order to gain power to trap his darling. And I wonder how deranged his reaction would be to reader's text and be like no way, they're joking right, and runs to their house and whatever usual spots they're at normally, and just break down into insanity. would he try to use substitutes for reader to maintain his sanity or go fully devoid of emotions and start working hard to gain power and influence to find reader again!! I'm also curious how he would process his darling leaving him, would he become delusional first, saying they got kidnapped or something, or some ex or fling of his hurt reader, and then proceed to anger, depression, grief and then finally accept the reality!!

Ok that's a lot of rambling 😭😭 hope it's okay. I rlly enjoyed that fic, was rent FREE in my mind for a whole day

you know luci, you just gave me an idea. So have a part TWO of THIS DUMBASS HOE 🤝

Yandere playboy x reader

Tw: mentions of murder, kameron being delulu, yandere and obsessive behavior

💋kameron was having another breakdown. Sobbing pathetically on the floor of your old bedroom. Just how did you run away? And on such short notice too!? Didn't his love mean anything to you!? WHY DID YOU ABANDON HIM?

💋a million thoughts swirled through his head, until he finally got one that just... stuck. He had to get you back. No matter how long it takes. Getting up and dusting himself off, he kicked the front door open and quickly left the empty house

💋it was a shame really. The once sane and popular boy was struggling to keep his image. So he got help. Not professional as in therapists and medication. Just hiring other students to cover for him Incase he slipped up. all while snooping through the head teachers computer to see if they had any notes on where you might have gone. He almost got caught a few times

"shit that was close.. i can't believe these idiots leave their passwords just anywhere"

💋he knew he shouldn't be back at the school, especially since he graduated but he needs all the information he can get. Eventually moving onto private investigators and online stalking through multiple other accounts. He'd try anything just to see what his darling was doing without him. Were you enjoying making him suffer? You're so cruel..

💋hiring other people to befriend you and lower your guard, gathering any Information they can

💋 kameron who spent a while convincing his parents to let him take hold of the company. He had a degree, a bright mind, responsibility. He's perfect for the job! Oh if only they knew where his 60% was going.. funding multiple businesses across the world in exchange for keeping a careful eye. Making him quite the celebrity

💋look darling! He's on the news-! ...oh right you're not here.. one evening, while working in his office, a new secretary comes in to introduce themselves. They look just like you! He could only stare in shock.

"my love..? Is that you!?"

"..who?"

💋turns out it was just a doppelganger. But with enough time he'd delude himself into thinking it was you. Courting them with the same flowers, chocolates and jewelry he'd given you. It worked like a charm! Now you were back In their arms again. They felt whole..

💋he married your lookalike a year later, the poor fool being too naive and oblivious to think. He was happy for awhile.. or until one of his P.I's came in to show him they found you. His reality started to break.

💋no.. how could he do this to you. Replacing you with some cheap street whore. That night, when they went to bed, he gave them a cup of water and smiled sweetly. Watching as their face went red and they started to cough for air after gulping it down. Clawing at the sheets and staring at him with wide fearful eyes. Begging him to help them

"...slut."

💋 burrying the body in his backyard, he paid people with underground connections to cover for him while he was away. Claiming they suddenly vanished, having run away with a small fortune. How idiotic are people, to actually believe him..

💋kameron disguised himself and went straight for the country you decided to flee too. 5 years apart from you.. he had no idea how he managed to live so long without his beloved, but it was all worth it. Because now you'll be back where you belong. In his arms.

💋you were busy working at your job, running a small business was no joke but atleast the people in the area were friendly. So you didn't notice the suited figure Infront of your cash register

"thank you, please come again-"

💋you froze, looking up at the terrifyingly familiar face. He stared back at you with only glee and love

"hello my darling~ you've been on a naughty streak for a while Haven't you? That's okay, I'll just set you straight when we go back home."

💋big burly men all blocked you from escaping by guarding the doors. Dragging all the other customers out so you both could have your moment. Now you could never leaver leave him. Ever.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

This is the collection of everything I've ever posted! It's not too good, but I hope you like it anyways!

Please don't interact with my writing if you're not above 18. You can interact with me, talk to me if you want, but you shouldn't be here if you're under 18.

I TAKE REQUESTS! There are a bunch of them in my inbox as well, and I try to write them as soon as I can! But please don't do that thing where you send the same thing to multiple writers--it is kinda off-putting for me.

I would love for anyone to like/comment on/reblog my posts. Everyu interaction is much, much appreciated, and hey, it helps us grow. It's free-supporting people who write here. So please, do what you can!

searchable tags: #harry styles fanfiction for all original posts. (to filter out the reblogs) #ask for all asks in my inbox

Please don't repost or translate any of my works anywhere. Any support in the form of likes and reblogs is truly, madly, deeply appreciated!

Here's my ko-fi for any tips you would like to give me!

Hope you have a great day! 🫶

updated on: 19/5

HOLIDAY FICS 2023 [8]

HEADCANONS

jealous!harry headcanons

boyfriend!harry headcanons

boyfriend!harry headcanons (another one 🙈)

dad's best friend!harry headcanons

mean!friends with benefits!harry headcanons

harry in love

grumpy!harry headcanons (mechanicrry universe)

husband!harry headcanons (explicit version)

secret relationship with 1D harry (headcanons)

《《 SERIES》》

Secret Little Rendevous | (co-worker!harry x reader) [COMPLETE SERIES]

In which you are in a friends-with-benefits relationship than Harry, and it gets messier as you go forward. (Not your typical enemies to lovers fic)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

Unfulfilled | (nerd!harry x reader)

in which you and harry are (friendly) academic rivals, and things change

part 1

A Chrome Connection | (grumpy!harry x sunshine!reader)

In which you are in desperate need of some car-fixing(and a place to live in) and you find Harry, a grumpy mechanic who supposedly dosen't care about people around him. But, will he melt when he finds a broken girl crying in her car on a cold Thanksgiving night?

a misfortune - part 1

windfall - part 2

melancholia - part 3

Hopelessly Devoted to You | (lawyer!harry x reader)

In which Y/n just wants to leave her abusive husband, and Harry is hopelessly devoted to her

Part-1 Part-2 Part-3 Part-4

Sweet Creature | (restaurant owner!harry x chef!y/n)

you landed your dream job as a line cook at Harry Styles' prestigious haus kitchen restaurant in chicago. the tough chef job demands focus, but it's really hard when your boss looks like harry styles.

part 1 part 2 part 3

《LONG ONE SHOTS》

An Eternal Embarce* (hades!harry x persephone!y/n)

in which persephone is back after 6 months, and the underworld blossoms once again. tensions arise too, but there is nothing that the king of underworld and queen of sspring can't handle together [Word Count: 7k]

Just the two of us -vday check in

Serendipity*

harry meets you at the most unexpected of places, and helps you like a knight in a wedding suit. it all starts at your best friend's wedding, where you find yourself in a predicament without an escort. as panic sets in, harry appears, sent by the groom's brother to fill in as your last-minute companion. from that moment, a serendipitous connection begins to bloom between you both. [Word Count: 5k]

Solace* (famous!harry x masseuse!y/n) part 2

harry is in need of some unwinding and destressing, and he finds the perfect masseuse for that. they end up growing much closer than the relationship they began with, but it's never that easy, is it? [Word Count: 11.6 k]

Rain-Kissed* (footballer!harry x nerd!y/n)

y/n and harry, former rivals turned reluctant partners, find unexpected chemistry. heated glances, playful banter ignite a spark. a near-tragedy makes y/n confront feelings, and...will they be reciprocated? ft. lots of mutual pining [Word Count: 6.1 k]

Intertwined* (hockey player!harry x figure skater!y/n)

harry practices at the local ice rink every night, but lately, all he can think about is a specific figure skater that he admires from a distance. when she asks him for some "private" lessons on ice, will they give in to the stolen glances and undeniable tension? [Word Count: 6k]

《ONE SHOT/BLURBS》

SMUT

hot n' hard*

you and harry are at the pool for some fun, and you both rile each other up throughout. you both end up fucking at the edge of the pool and your exhibitionism kink has never been fueled so good.

thigh riding*

you playfully tease harry and, let's just say, it does not go well

don't stop

riding harry with your hands tied behind your back

breeding kink-blurb*

harry sees you around kids on a Christmas dinner, and he's obsessed with giving you his own

cupidity*

"don't make me take you home and punish you"

his* (jealousrry blowjob blurb)

harry is jealous, primal and dominant tonight, and you have never been so turned on

temporary fix*

in which a stranger at a bar becomes your good night (inspired by temporary fix by 1D (duh))

three knuckle deep*(aka fingering blurb)

in which you break harry's rule, and there are consequences

curves*

a plus-size!y/n fic

good girl*

straight up filth, sex w/ harry

euphoria*

soft dom!harry while his girl sucks on his cock

near the fireplace*

sex near the fireplace after a christmas dinner

a new year, a new beginning*

new years with harry's family, followed by some love making

FLUFF

drunk harry

in which harry is drunk, and you are trying to take care of the cutie pie

drunk y/n

in which you have a test the next day, and you find refuge in drinking and harry

addicted

about Harry’s addiction of kissing you

vexed

in which you are burnt out, and Harry comes to your rescue, in cute pajamas, with cookies and hot chocolate

tranquility

inspired by harry's pics of him swimming in the ocean

here for you

a fluffy period blurb, ft. pillow fights and kisses!

baby

boyfriend!h takes care of pregnant!reader, with a lot of fluffy cuteness. the baby kicks for the first time, and harry is overjoyed.

cuddles

ft. harry being cuddly and clingy

late-night serenades

you play guitar, but harry dosen’t know that. one night, you can't sleep, and harry's guitar looks quite tempting

breakfast in bed

in which harry wants to bring you breakfast in bed, but you have woken up. thankfully, he is cute and you're smitten

hold on to me

(trumpet player!harry x clarinet player!reader) you're both off to college after a while, and it's your last time playing together. feelings are comnfessed, and promises are made.

a christmas with harry

your first christmas with harry at his home, surrounded by his family and friends

dance with me

in which you and harry are at a friend's wedding, and you really don't know how to dance

thanksgiving

coming from a place where thanksgiving isn't celebrated, harry is more than happy to show you

ANGST

trepidation

in which you are too busy for the relationship, and he feels you slipping away.

insecure * requisite(part 2)*(SMUT)

in which harry feels insecure, because you want to keep your relationship a secret. ft: fluff, angst, dirty talk

waiting * for you(part 2)

a 6 month anniversary date turns into broken promises and doubts over your love

disconnected*

first time sex with harry, which leads to misunderstandings, miscommunication and insecurities

requests are open!!!

(*-> smut)

blurb night concepts

21/4

divider and header by @/saradika

[ninii-winchester]

You’d never know (Part 1)

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader

Word count : 1.3k

Warnings : angst, hurt/no comfort, spoilers s13, Dean is an asshole.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

The sun dipped below the horizon, the world slowly enveloping in darkness. The same could be said for Y/n's mind. Dark clouds of hurt and loneliness lingering in the air, encasing her in an impenetrable bubble of insecurities. It was hard time, stating that is an understatement. It was a dire situation. She thought back to how she got here.

When Jack was born, his mother died giving birth to him. Lucifer arrived at cabin to take Jack away. He killed Castiel. Mary fought Lucifer pushing him inside the rift to the alternate universe, but before the rift could close Lucifer pulled her in with him.

Y/n, Sam and Dean watched in terror as Mary fell through and the rift closed. While Sam panicked, Dean was horrified. He couldn't lose his mom, not again. Y/n let out a gasp, her mouth dropped open as the dread settled in. She knew Dean would lose it, he's not gonna sit back knowing his mom is stuck in the apocalypse world with the Devil himself.

After burning Cas and Kelly's bodies, the trio took Jack back to the bunker. The air was tense, Dean wasn't happy with the decision. He didn't trust Jack, he didn't want him anywhere near him, his brother or his girlfriend. It was because of the Nephilim that he lost his mother.

Y/n was worried, Dean had closed off, he was distant. Most of all, he was angry. All the time. He constantly snapped at Sam, brushed her off any given moment. He wouldn't even look at Jack. The kid was trying to make good in Dean's eyes but he just shurgged him off.

Dean started to unwind a bit after the shifter case, and even more when Jack brought Cas back. Y/n was relieved that Dean was coming back to his normal self. After Jack accidentally killed the security guard, he decided to leave. Until he could control his powers, he wouldn't come back. Y/n was worried about the kid leaving on his own but she had faith in him.

"Hey!" Dean said bringing Y/n out of her thoughts. "You seem lost."

"Just thinking." She shrugged closing the book in front of her and putting it back in its place on the shelf. "You need something?" She asked tersely. She wasn't trying to be mean, but lately she didn't feel like he wanted her. After he brushed her off so many times, she didn't bother him.

Dean could hear the formality in her voice, and he knew he deserved it. He had been too preoccupied with his concerns to realise he'd been not only neglecting her but hurting her in the process, when all she wanted to do was help. "Just wanted to say I'm sorry." He gauged her expressions to see how bad he had fucked up.

Instead of speaking, she gave him a look. He couldn't quite read what was it supposed to mean. He chewed on his lower lip, leaning back against the table. With a loud sigh he moved towards her. Laying his hands gently on her waist.

"Dean." She reprimanded. She knew what he was apologising for, but she didn't need his apology. She wanted him to talk to her. She's told him a thousand times that she wants him to communicate. She knows it's hard for him but she needs him to express himself, she needs him to have healthy coping mechanisms. She doesn't want him to shut her out or resorting to alcohol.

"I know, I know." He rested his forehead on her shoulder. "I shouldn't have pushed you away. It wasn't fair to you. I'm sorry. I'll do better next time."

"I just need you to communicate with me, Dean. We're in this together. For better or worse. Next time, don't shut me out. We'll get through this. We always do." Dean nodded, his green eyes looking at her.

"Yeah." He placed a kiss on her head. "I promise."

When Jody called on a supposed lead on Jack, the trio went to find him. When they finally found Jack, he was with a girl, who ran away as soon as she saw the trio. Jack confessed that he was trying to help bring Mary back.

"That girl is a powerful dream-walker, her name is Kaia. She can help us." Jack said.

"You thought good kid. We'll find Kaia and bring Mary back." Y/n said patting Jack on the back.

When they finally found Kaia, she refused to help. She said that it was scary, and that she cannot get them anywhere other than The Bad Place, Dean's patience was running thin, he was growing frustrated, his mind was going off the rails knowing the key to getting his mother back is right in front of him but refusing to help. Sam tried to ask Kaia politely but then Dean pulled his gun from his jacket and undid the safety.

"Get in the car." He said calmly. He was anything but calm.

"Dean." Y/n and Sam warned. He pointed his gun at the young girl and Y/n moved in front of him. "Dean, this is not the way to convince her. You're not thinking straight."

"It's my Mom, Y/n." He growled.

"I know Dean I understand but-"

"No you don't!" He exclaimed. "You'd never know how I feel Y/n. You've never had a mom." Dean yelled and the atmosphere fell completely silent. The only sound audile was the woosh of air. Y/n let out a gasp taking a step back. "You wanted me to communicate huh? So listen to me and listen to me good. You don’t know how I feel, I need my mom back and" he pointed his gun at Kaia "she's gonna come with us either way. And you're gonna move out of the way."

"Dean." Sam exclaimed his eyes widened. He wasn't sure what possessed Dean to say all that but he went too far this time.

It was true that Y/n never knew her mom, she was barely two months old when her parents gave her up. It wasn't until she was thirteen she found out that her parents didn't want her since they were too young to be parents. She had told Dean about her longing for her parents but she never thought he'd use it against her.

Without a word she moved aside, unblocking his path to the dream walker. He motioned the girl with his gun to move and she got into the car, Jack followed. With his jaw clenched, Dean got into the drivers seat and slammed the door.

"Y/n." Sam started, "I'm so sorry. Dean he's..."

"Go Sam." Was all she said.

Sam approached her with hesitant steps, he hugged her tightly. "I'm really sorry." He whispered. Dean watched the two in the rear veiw mirror, the anger flushing away and guilt settling in. He knew he regretted those words the moment he said it but he was far too gone in the moment to realise. He turned his head to the front as he heard Sam slide into the  passenger's seat. The air was thick with tension as they drove off to South Dakota.

Y/n wouldn't lie, sometimes she thought that Dean didn't need her as much as she needed him, she often thought he might leave her but never in a million years did she think it'd be this way. She never expected him to hit where it hurts the most. In that moment, each and every feeling resurfaced. The feelings she tried so hard to suppress, the feelings of being unwanted, of not being enough.

She can't ever forgive him and won't ever forgive Dean Winchester.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33

[pro-sipper]

I understand that we should just block content we don't wanna see, but I still think things like proships or ships that are wrong and illegal in irl should be kept private. Because that is exposing kids to the romantization of abuse, incest, and pedophilia. This content may expose them to predators, which could cause them harmful trauma, the type that people claim to use proshipping for. They may think that a person older than them liking a kid is ok, even though the adult has bad intentions. We know that they are fictional characters, but they represent real people and can still affect kids. And if this isn't supposed to affect them irl, why do so many groomers show proship media and illegal art to grow kids?

Don't want to start anything just curious

I think the short version of the argument is basically "the internet shouldn't have to be a 100% sanitized and safe space for children". But getting further into it...

"but I still think things like proships or ships that are wrong and illegal in irl should be kept private."

It's not worth mentioning now but "proships" aren't a thing. Proship doesn't stand for problematic ship, it's not an adjective.

My question is why this line of thinking only applies to ships? Murder and cannibalism are also illegal, but no one's going around saying you should keep your love of horror to yourself, or only watch R rated movies in the privacy of your own home.

"Because that is exposing kids to the romantization of abuse, incest, and pedophilia."

The majority of people interacting with media like this, or making posts about this, DO NOT want kids interacting with their content! They slap every rating, warning label, and trigger tag under the sun onto their work to say that it is not for kids. At the end of the day, that's all you can do. It is not one random proshipper's job to shelter every single child in the world.

Furthermore, kids are exposed to that crap from plenty of other places besides randos on tumblr. Walking into a library or turning on a television can easily expose kids to these topics just as much as going onto ao3 or opening tumblr could. That doesn't mean every professional author or tv writer on earth needs to create art that's palatable for children. Because that's not their responsibility.

"This content may expose them to predators"

It's grim to say, but literally anything on earth could potentially expose a child to a predator. Getting on the bus, going to the park, going to school, going to church, going to a friend's house, going home. Honestly I think it's a bit of a privileged mindset to think that a child would be 100% safe in this world if it weren't for faceless boogeymen online committing the sin of writing dark fic of their Blorbos.

"which could cause them harmful trauma,"

Again, that trauma could come from anywhere. And you're putting the weight of preventing that onto random strangers online, not anyone who's concretely in the hypothetical child's life, or actually responsible for them

"the type that people claim to use proshipping for"

Appreciate the subtleties of invalidating other people's trauma. Just because you don't have the same coping mechanisms doesn't mean theirs are invalid. Especially when countless licensed therapists agree that writing is one of the better ways you can help process trauma.

And to state the obvious, you don't need to have trauma to be a proshipper. Not everyone uses dark content for self reflection, some people just think it's neat.

"They may think that a person older than them liking a kid is ok, even though the adult has bad intentions."

A kid should not be getting 100%, or even most of their life lessons from fictional media. Parents, guardians, teachers, and other trusted adults in a child's life are the ones who need to teach them right from wrong, and how to protect themselves. I remember being a kid and being told by my mom "now if a stranger pulls up to you and says they lost their puppy and they'll give you candy if you help them look for it, do NOT go with them". That was her job as a parent.

Now I know that sadly, not every child has that kind of trusted adult in their life. But it's not the responsibility of a bunch of fanfic authors on tumblr to fill in the gaps.

"We know that they are fictional characters, but they represent real people and can still affect kids."

It doesn't matter how closely or loosely fiction depicts our reality, it's still just fiction at the end of the day. Movies have been using the whole "Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental" disclaimer for almost as long as there have been movies.

"And if this isn't supposed to affect them irl, why do so many groomers show proship media and illegal art to grow kids?"

One, art is not illegal. Unless you get caught graffiti-ing, then you might get fined. And no one is saying this kind of thing can't affect a child. But why, in this scenario, are you putting the blame on fanfic authors and fanartists before putting the blame on the actual groomer??

And again I ask, what exactly is "proship media" anyway? I'm guessing the kind of stuff that constantly appears on people's DNI lists, which could be anything from Steven Universe to Cannibal Holocaust, so who really knows??

Like I said in the short version, the internet should not have to be sanitized for the sake of the children. The entire internet does not need to be one giant safe space for kids. Adults have a right to talk about adult things with other adults. To explore dark topics in fiction, or to have fun with taboos in a harmless way.

I want the world to be safe for kids too. But the way to do that isn't to forbid adults from posting shit online. Instead of trying to shield children from every controversial, difficult, or uncomfortable topic under the sun, give them the tools they need to learn how to process these things.

Be a safe person to talk to if a kid has a question. Help them understand why something might be okay in a fantasy setting, but it's not something that should carry over into real life (like, a fairy tale prince kissing an sleeping princess to break a curse is fine, but in real life where there's no magic you should always make sure someone is okay with it before kissing them. Something like that)

Teach them internet safety, above all else. When I was a kid, you didn't give out any personal info. Nowadays kids have no qualms about giving out their full name, age, list of phobias and disorders, showing their school, their house - the list goes on.

Honestly, I think we need to go back to scaring kids with Stranger Danger, at least a little. But that's starting to veer into a different topic and I think I've said all I need to say about this one today.

[im-sleepdeprived]

Crazier • Pt. 3

pairing: mcu!peter parker x reader

a/n: ITS FINALLY HERE omg I loved writing this series so much i had a blast. thank you for everyone who was asking me about part 3 because it felt amazing knowing you enjoyed it as much as me😭💕💕 i hope you enjoy !! (beware, she is long)

warnings: some angst thrown in here and there, fluff (later), mentions of breakups, mentions of cheating, very very brief mention of suicide ( someone mentions and old author who offed themselves), me not knowing anything about theater (I apologize in advance), glitter

read part 1 here & part 2 , masterlist

"And when we got the chair, Brad made me sit in it and he pushed me around the whole school!" You were telling Spider-Man about your day, and as always, he listened politely, only chiming every now and then. 

"Wow, you and this Brad guy sure did a lot together today, huh?" He said, and even with the voice changer, you could tell he sounded a bit off. "I mean yeah! He's a great guy, way cooler than I originally thought.” You told him, making him grind his teeth hard, not that you saw that. 

"Actually I'm a little upset that the play is about to come to an end." Your voice gets a little softer as you confess what's been on your mind today. "The rehearsals have been a blast, and the people are amazing and it's been such a good distraction from everything. I'm really sad to see it go," you looked down at your hands. 

Peter took one look at your expression and knew there was something else you weren't telling him. "Well what kinds of things do you need a distraction from?" he asked carefully.

"Um," you looked anywhere but at him, "well, my parents have been fighting a lot lately and it's just been really hard to be around the house, everything's so tense."

His lips parted but nothing came out. He knew about your parents, of course, whenever things got bad you'd always run over to his place to hang out. But now you couldn't do that anymore, so you were just looking for any way to avoid coming home for as long as you could. 

"And of course, there's that whole breakup." you continued. "But I've been pretty good at ignoring that so far, and I think that's just the way I'll keep going." You drummed your fingers on your thigh as you stared into nothing.

"Do you really think that's the best way to go about it?" He asked hesitantly. "Maybe you shouldn't just completely ignore something like that."

You gave him a questioning look, "And why wouldn't I want to forget about it? Isn't that what you're supposed to do eventually after a breakup?"

"Yeah, eventually," he repeated, "but wasn't that relationship a big part of you? Ignoring everything isn't gonna make all your feelings go away. You have to face your emotions, embrace them, and go through the motions before moving on."

He hated that you seemed to be fine all of a sudden. That you were getting so close with this Brad guy all of a sudden. It might've been selfish, but Peter didn't wanna see you moving on just yet, he still had a tiny hope in the back of his brain that you might take him back if he waited till just the right time. But the more you kept talking, the more that tiny hope diminished. 

You snorted, "Ok Dr. Spider-Man, I'm not sure a guy running around New York in a bright onesie is qualified to give out relationship advice, but you do you.”

He couldn't help but let out a laugh. "I'll let you know I give out great relationship advice and I'm not wearing a onesie," he huffed. "It's a super suit."

That just made you laugh harder, "Yeah, sure, whatever dude."

"So you and your team won?" he asked. He wasn't about to waste the only time in the day when he got to speak with you being jealous. He was gonna keep this conversation going. Try his best to give you what he never could as Peter. 

"Yes!" you beamed. "Oh and look," you scrambled around looking for the crown you had received after you won. You had brought it up with you just so you could show him. 

You put it on and straightened your posture, "We were rewarded with these fabulous crowns.”

Spider-Man let out a loud laugh. "Wow, you look like true royalty."

"Don't I?" you grinned. "I always wanted to be a princess when I grew up, so this is very fitting for me." You tapped the crown lightly and grinned at him.

Peter was sure he was grinning like a lovesick idiot. He remembered you telling him this, your crazy childhood dream during one of your late-night talks. He truly believed that if anyone in this whole world were some kind of royalty, it would be you.

“Just like Rapunzel.” He murmured. Your head perked up at that. “Oh my god,” you rush, “YES! Holy shit! She was my absolute favorite as a kid, how'd you know that?”

He fumbles a little but quickly finds himself. “You were humming ‘I See The Light’ a couple days ago. It was an educated guess.” You can hear the grin in his voice. “Glad to know I got it right though.”

You laughed a little and settled back down. “Dude, I'm not kidding. I used to eat yellow flowers as a kid 'cause I thought they’d give me magic hair.”

At that, Peter loses his mind. He’s cracking up and you're joining in beside him. This, he thinks to himself. This is what he’s been missing. This is how things should be. He can't help himself, the words are leaving his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts.

“So what about your ex? How’ve things been going with him?” Nice going dumbass. She's never gonna wanna talk with you again if you keep mentioning her ex-boyfriend.

You looked at him weirdly and started twisting the ring on your finger. “Why do you wanna know?”

“I-just I…” he scratched the back of his neck, “Well actually, I'm going through a breakup too, right now, and I guess…I don't know, hearing you talk about it, about him, makes me feel less alone.”

Peter Parker feels like shit. He feels like a total asshole. And yet, he doesn't feel bad enough to stop, to come clean. Not yet at least. He tried making himself feel better by thinking, ‘Well it's not a lie. I am going through a breakup. She just doesn't know with who.’

You stared up at him, shocked. He never shared anything about himself. Not a thing. You two joked back and forth but you were usually the one sharing personal issues (or triumphs, like today). You start to wonder what his personal life looks like. He can't be that much older than you from what you can tell by his sense of humor and some of his references. This man, no, boy, who spends practically all his time running around one of the most popular cities in the world, saving lives and changing them, is going through a breakup. And he’s currently sitting on a rooftop with you and talking about it.

You blew out a long breath. “If Spider-Man can’t find love, none of us stand a chance.”

He let out a soft laugh at that. “Ah, I wouldn't say that. I definitely have my fair share of flaws. And then some.”

You shake your head, “I'm sure the good outweighs the bad. I mean, come on,” you gestured towards him.

He laughed again. “So tell me, you still see him every day, right?

You nodded, deciding that if this made him feel less alone, you could do this. 

“Is it hard?”

You shrugged, “Honestly, I have no idea. I’ve been avoiding him like the plague. I’ve only run into him once and it was when me and another friend went to grab ice cream at our old hangout spot. I couldn’t look at him. I haven’t spoken to him since everything and I don’t really want to. Not anytime soon.”

He sighed. Of course, you didn’t wanna speak to him as Peter. He’d totally fucked you over, he’s lucky he found any kind of loophole at all because he really doesn’t think he can handle not speaking completely. 

“How do you think he feels?” He has no clue where the question came from but now that he’s asked, he can’t help the curiosity bubbling in him.

You run a hand through your hair and sigh, “I have no idea. One second he’s avoiding eye contact in the school hallway and the next, he’s staring daggers at me in an ice cream shop. He’s weird.”

Spider-Man chuckled lightly, “Yeah, he sounds like he is.”

“Do you see your ex a lot?” You hope he doesn’t see it as prying, you just want to see how similar your situations are. 

“Yeah, actually, I do.” He nods but says nothing else. 

“Is it hard?” You ask softly. 

He nods again, keeping his eyes low. “Crazy hard. Especially when I know everything is my fault.”

“Do you think she’d ever forgive you?” He only shrugged. “Do you want her to forgive you?”

He looks up at you, “Would you ever forgive your ex? After whatever it is that he did, I mean.”

You took a moment to think. “I don’t know. I think it’s different. I mean, I don’t know what happened between you guys, but I think with Peter and I, I think he was starting to lose interest.”

He can feel his heart drop. “What? Why would you say that?”

“Yeah,” you continued, not taking notice of the spider slightly freaking out beside you, “he just stopped caring. Stopped showing up, and stopped listening. If I didn’t know any better I’d actually think he’d cheated on me.”

“No way! I mean-,” he cleared his throat a little, trying not to sound as anxious as he felt, “Do you… do you actually that he did? Cheated, I mean. Do you seriously think he cheated on you?”

Please say no, please say no, please say-

“No, of course not,” you told him honestly. “Peter’s a lot of things, but he’s not a cheater. I’d accuse him of that.” You paused for a moment. “But there was something…I don’t know what. There was something he wasn’t telling me.”

He let out a breath of relief. Thank god, he doesn’t think he could’ve handled knowing you thought of him that way. And it’s true, he would’ve never stooped so low. As for the ‘something’…

“Say he were to show up, right now, knocking on your door. Begging to have you back and swearing that he’s changed. Would it work?” He asked half serious and half joking.

You laughed a little, “No, but it’d probably piss off my parents.”

He grinned beside you, his mask shifting slightly at the movement. “Aw come on. Not one for big romantic gestures?” He nudged your shoulder a little.

You smiled but your expression fell as you thought about his words some more. “No, I’m just not one for empty promises. Which is all he had to give me after a while. He used to be amazing, he used to be the perfect boyfriend. The Peter I knew disappeared and I wasn’t a fan of the one who replaced him.”

You look up at him and grin. “If there’s any chance of anything being repaired between us. Even a friendship. He’s gonna need to get his shit together.”

“So he cheated on her, which fueled her depression, and ultimately led to her suicide. And that wasn’t enough so he burned her most of her work, and profited off of the rest of it after she died!”

This is what your mornings looked like lately. Hanging out with MJ so much had been…interesting to say the least. There was always something you could learn from her. Currently, she was telling you all about some ancient female author’s shitty husband as you waited beside her locker while she grabbed everything she’d need for her next class. 

“Every article online about it says ‘allegedly’ but fuck that. It’s totally the truth,” She finished. 

“God. That sounds awful,” you grimaced. “Whatever happened to him? Didn’t they have kids?”

“Oh, he married someone, won a ton of awards everyone loved him. And yes, a son, who also dies by suicide, and a daughter. I'm pretty sure she writes kids' books now.”

You sucked in a breath. “Holy shit. And where did you learn all this?”

She shrugged. “I read a lot.”

“Right,” you nod, unable to completely shake off the grossness that story left you feeling. “So,” you started, hoping to change the subject. “What do you have next again?”

“Biology. But I think we have a sub today, so that’ll be fun.” She slammed her locker shut, leaned on it slightly, and turned toward you. “What about you?”

You shook your head at her, “Free period. I was gonna catch up on my reading for AP Lit. Hey,” you wondered aloud, “is it that sub that marks people tardy even if they’re a second late? I can’t stand him.”

She sprung up. “Shit. Shit. Fuck,” she rushed out. “It is. And I can’t get another tardy otherwise I get detention. Again. And my parents would kill me.”

You nodded, completely understanding. “Okay. Well, I’m just gonna go grab my stuff and head to the library. See you later!”

“Bye Y/N/N!” She yelled over her shoulder, already halfway down the hall. 

You laughed lightly before heading to your own locker. You opened it and grabbed your bag when you felt a tap on your shoulder. 

You slam your locker shut and turn around, only to come face to face with Brad. “Hey, Brad!” You grinned. 

You’d never really noticed Brad before. You never had anything against him, you both just ran in different crowds. Even after you both started working on the play, you were friendly with each other but it never went past a simple smile, wave, or quick ‘hello’. But in light of recent events, you were really starting to think of him as a friend.

“Hey.” He smiled right back. “Saw you here and thought I’d just stop by and ask how you’ve been.”

You gave him a closed-lip smile as you leaned back against the lockers. “That’s sweet. I’ve been okay, long morning though. What about you?”

He nodded. “Same. Stayed up pretty late last night going over my lines.”

“Really? Don’t really think you need that. I’ve seen you at rehearsals, you’re a natural Brad.”

“Yeah? You think?” He grinned wide at your compliment and ran a hand over his hair. “I’ve got ‘em memorized and all, but I just wanna make sure I know them, y’know?”

You nodded. He wants to make sure his delivery is as good as his memory. That’s another thing you didn’t expect from Brad Davis. His passion for theater. 

“Well like I said, I’ve seen you at rehearsals and I mean it when I say I think you’re fine. More than fine actually. So don’t stress yourself out Davis, you’re gonna be amazing.”

He beamed at you like a child. “Thank you Y/N, seriously. You don’t know how much that means.”

You smiled right back at him. “Anytime.”

It was quiet between you two for a bit, and you didn’t really know what to say. You were about to ask if he had a class he needed to get to when, suddenly, he took a few steps closer to you. 

That automatically took any words that might’ve been on your tongue and threw them in the dumpster behind the school. 

“There’s um, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, actually.” His voice is softer but, you hear every word and you can almost feel his breath on your face. 

“Oh?” Your voice matches his volume. This can't be happening. He knows you just broke up with Peter. He’s gotta be kidding. Or maybe, he’s about to ask something about the play. Yes, you think, he’s got a question about the play and he’s come to ask me, obviously, because I’m the director. 

The halls are quiet now, everyone else is in class, at the library, or something. It's just you and Brad, standing so close you could count his lashes. 

Just you and Brad. Brad, who won’t stop staring into your eyes for some reason, so you’re just left standing there….you and Brad.

And Peter. 

The sound of squeaky sneakers running down the hall seems to break him out of whatever trance he was held in and he steps back a bit, almost causing you to let out an audible sigh of relief. God, you could just kiss the person who decided to unintentionally interrupt whatever moment was just happening between you two. 

Or not. 

Because when you both turned to see who it was, your heart fell. Peter Parker is standing there, backpack hanging off his elbow, binder bursting with loose papers in hand, and staring at you like a deer caught in headlights. 

For a second, none of you say anything. Brad’s looking confused, staring at Peter. Peter is looking at you, then at Brad, then at you again. And you, well, you’re just wishing the school hallway would split in half and swallow you whole. You’ve run through a few different scenarios in your head, and falling into the earth’s core sounds the most appealing. 

Then Peter moves closer, clearing his throat as he approaches the both of you. “Hey guys, how’ve you been?” He asked. 

Neither you nor Brad replied. 

“Right. Hey man,” he turned to face Brad, his face suddenly serious, “don’t you drive a black BMW? Red rims, red interior?”

“Um, yeah, I do,” Brad answered skeptically. 

Peter blew out a long breath. “Think you might be in trouble dude. I just heard the principal saying he was gonna get it towed, something about you parking wrong.”

“What?!” Brad’s whole demeanor changed on a dime and you almost felt sorry for him. 

Peter held up both his hands. “I’m serious man, that’s what I heard. But don’t ask me,” he pointed to the hall behind him, “go ask Mr. Morita.” 

Brad stared at you for a moment before walking off, mumbling something about ‘another fucking ticket’ as you watched him leave. You almost grabbed his arm like a child, almost asked him to stay, just so you wouldn’t be alone with Peter. 

You swallowed. Brad had finally turned the corner, leaving him officially out of your eyesight and leaving you standing alone with your ex. It’s funny really, how you went from talking about suicidal classic authors with your friend a few minutes ago, to this. 

Yup, the Earth’s core sounds amazing right now.

For all the words he had to say when Brad was here, Peter was awfully silent now, doing that weird stare thing he did in the ice cream shop the other day. But there was no Ned to play polite this time, and no MJ to hold on a leash so she doesn’t bite. It was just you and him. 

And you had no problem running. 

You turned so quick, it took him a second to register the movement, and by the time he did, you were halfway down the hall. He ran after you. 

“Y/N, wait. Please.” He reached out a hand to place on your shoulder. You jerked away, his hand barely brushing your cardigan. 

You’re both standing in the hallway, and you’re still avoiding his eyes when you say, “We’re not doing this.” You shook your head and ran off, leaving a somber-eyed Peter in your wake.

There was no parking violation. Peter lied. But he had to. 

He’d gotten caught up doing some last-minute homework in the library. Spider-Man duties were keeping him busy lately because when he wasn’t fighting crime on the streets of Queens, he was spending time with you. 

He knows it isn’t right, he knows it isn’t fair, but god if it doesn’t feel good. He loves spending time with you and he hates that he can’t do it more often, hates even more that it’s his fault. And he damn sure wasn’t going to cut your meetups short because he had a few math questions waiting to be answered. 

So on his way back, the halls were empty when he suddenly heard a very familiar voice. You. 

But you were with someone. Brad. The thought made him roll his eyes. 

You were currently going off about how great Brad was doing so far in his role in the play you were managing. Stupid Brad, Peter was sure the only reason anything was going right in the planning of the show was because of you, you were the best person they could’ve picked for the job and all Brad had to do was say a few lines. You were the one who dealt with everything else. Brad should’ve been praising you, not the other way around.

He’d heard Brad’s response to your compliments and almost rolled his eyes again until he heard your response. Of course, you were being an absolute sweetheart. You probably had no clue what words like that meant coming for someone like you. You were probably oblivious to your effect on people, as you were probably oblivious to Brad’s true feelings about you.

You both went quiet for a moment, leaving Peter to wonder what happened when he heard Brad’s voice again. 

“There’s um, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, actually.”

No. 

No, no, no, no. No. 

If he were totally honest with himself, he knew it was coming. Especially after you told him about your little scavenger hunt around the school, and how well you got along with him, how kind he was being towards you. Brad didn’t just randomly see you in the hall and decide to say ‘hey’. He had class. Peter knew because he was supposed to be in that exact class right now.

He could handle another detention. 

Before he even knew it, he was running down the halls. He had no idea what he was going to do, even less what he was going to say but none of that mattered at the moment. He just had to make sure this didn’t go any further. There was no way he could stand by and listen to you agree to go out with some other guy. 

And then he was standing there, you’d both seen him, and it was too late to turn back. He stared for a minute, noticing how close Brad was standing next to you. His gaze flickered between you and him and all he could think was how wrong it would be for you to end up with someone like Brad. Stupid, stupid Brad, who hung out with all the stupid jocks, and threw those stupid house parties all the time. Who only talked about his stupid car, and what model it was-

An Idea popped into his head. 

He couldn’t help it. Bro Peter stepped out and dealt with Brad, knowing the one thing that would completely get rid of him at the moment. He wasn’t thinking about the consequences. 

As he’d suspected Brad left with almost no hesitation, Peter almost doubling over with how quickly he fell for it. 

And then, he was left with you, and every ounce of confidence, every word in his lifelong vocabulary, crumbled. It never ceased to amaze him how easily you could completely undo him. He was an avenger, for crying out loud, he had literally saved New York and, he didn’t want to sound cocky but, the world. He had faced villains, of all sorts, so despicable, it’s a wonder he’s alive at all. But he did it. 

But you…. He’s never felt like this before. So nervous, anxious, and scared to mess something up when all he wants is to fix it. In the superhero world, stunned silence isn’t an option. One moment of hesitation and everything could go to shit. But now, he’s not sure what the best course of action is. He’s not sure if speaking to you will make things worse, or better. If saying anything at all will give him more of a fighting chance. Was there even any chance of a fighting chance?

He didn’t miss how you hadn’t said a word and all he could think was ‘Please talk! Say something! Give me a hint for what I’m supposed to say!”

He was just stuck in place, staring directly at your face taking in your expression. You wouldn’t meet his eyes and there was no stopping the pang of guilt in his gut. You looked skittish, and it should’ve been no surprise to him when you turned to take off but it still took him a second to shake off that moment. 

Just a second though, because soon he was running right after you. He wasn’t going to let you off so easy this time. 

He’d called for you to stop, reaching his hand for your shoulder in hopes of getting you to listen. The way you jerk back as if his touch might burn you snaps something in him. 

And there they are, your first words to him (Peter him) since the breakup:

“We’re not doing this.”

And you’re already moving away again, already slipping away from him again while his hand hangs in the air. He almost touched you. Maybe it was better that he didn’t because he thought he might’ve never let go. 

He’s not sure if you meant what you told him as Spider-Man. Maybe it was just another one of your jokes. But he’s not ready to give up hope yet. He’ll give you time if that's what you need, he’s just scared of who else might try to make their move during that time. 

For now, he’s just gonna work on getting his shit together. 

And that starts with going to class, and getting his work turned in.

There’s a buzz in the air when you enter the auditorium the next day, that can only be described as highly-caffeinated-extremely-enthusiastic-high-school-theater-kids. You were all feeling the anticipation of your work these past few weeks being shared with all your friends and family. 

You were walking around checking up on the last-minute touchups. You walked up on stage and stopped in your tracks. “Oh my god,” your hand flies up to your mouth, “you guys! This is beautiful!”

The set group (Noah, Lacy, and Jack) all grinned up at you. They all had some form of paint on them. Lacy adorned a pair of overalls that consisted of black and navy blue splatters going up and down the front of her. Jack’s T-shirt looked as if it were being used as a rag for his hands, so there were so many colors intertwining with each other, that you couldn’t pick out a single one. Noah was the messiest of the group, this specific set being mostly his responsibility. The knees of his jeans were stained black, but it didn’t end there. He looked like a tornado of night, with all sorts of shades clinging to any visible part of him. Blues, blacks, indigos, you name it. And they were all gleaming with pride. 

“Hey Y/N,” Noah beamed at you. “We just finished the last backdrop.”

Behind them all was the backdrop which would be used for the last scene of the play. Lexi and Brad (or Stephanie and Gabriel, per the script) would stand in front of it and finally declare their love for one another, commencing their forever after with a passionate kiss. 

You knew it was supposed to be a night sky, but what you hadn’t known was how well of a job they would do. 

You let out a breathless laugh. “I can see that. It's stunning you guys, truly.” Although Midtown High was a school that specialized in the education of science and technology, the students here were extremely in touch with their creative sides as well. And that fact had never been more obvious to you than in that moment. 

“There's still one more finishing touch, and then it’ll be perfect.” Lacy grinned at you before running backstage. 

You were staring at where she'd just been, a furrow in your brows, when Jack nudged you lightly, “Oh, this is what she’s been waiting for since we started.”

Lacy came back, almost tripping over herself with how fast she was running. She held up a jar that sparkled in the auditorium lights as she moved it around, “Glitter!”

You grinned and clapped your hands together, “Oh I’m so happy I get to be here for this.”

Noah and Jack stood to the side while you and Lacy approached the large backdrop from the side. She made quick work of unscrewing the top and setting it beside her. She leaned over slightly and tilted the jar a tad before sprinkling it over the spacious work of art. 

If sprinkling glitter were a profession, Lacy would be a pro. 

You quickly figured out why she was so excited about this step, and it wasn’t just the glitter. Adding the glitter gave the scene more life. It made it look as if it were real, and you were looking at a sky bursting with sparkling stars.

 After getting the area in front of her, she turns to you, holding out the jar. “Here! Give it a go.”

You stared a her a bit before quickly shaking your head, “Lace, I never thought someone could be good at sprinkling glitter, yet here I am. You were like a freaking fairy! I’d totally ruin it, and I can’t do that to you guys.”

You held your hands up and started backing away slowly. You could hear Jack and Noah laughing behind you. 

Lacy just rolled her eyes with a smile stuck on her face. “Nonsense, Y/N, you’re a pro at everything you do,” she lowered her voice a little, “like that scavenger hunt?”

You gave her a look before turning around to make sure Mrs. Lightbody was nowhere around. “None of that,” you hiss, “that was a one-time thing! And it was a group effort!”

“Oh come on,” Noah this time. “We all know you had the hardest list of the bunch. Seriously Y/N, if Brad hadn’t shown me the list, I never would’ve believed that you did all that.”

Jack nodded. “Honestly, me and Lace wrote that as a little joke, like, ‘Hey, what if we were really wild with this? What would we do?’ And you came and proved us all wrong.”

Lacy hummed her agreement, “What they said, exactly. And this is just a bit of glitter. No big deal!” She grabbed your arm and pulled you towards her. 

You laughed lightly, feeling yourself grow a little flustered under their praises. You grabbed the jar of glitter from Lacy and went to work, being extra careful so you don’t ruin all their hard work.

“This is good glitter,” you say softly, completely concentrated on the task at hand. 

“Oh my gosh! I know right!” Lacy practically squeals her response. You laughed but could hear Noah groaning behind you. You finish with the glitter, screwing it shut before turning back to face him. 

“There’s no such thing as ‘good glitter’,” He did air quotes on that last part, sounding extremely frustrated and something told you this wasn’t the first time they had this conversation.

“Yes, there is! She just said so!” Lacy was standing her ground. Suddenly, she turned towards you, “Y’know who can settle this? Lexi. Go find her Y/N, take the glitter, and ask her what she thinks. She’s gonna agree with me, I can already feel it.”

You held in a laugh. “Sure thing Lace.” You turn to go find your other friend and as you're walking away you can still hear them arguing, Noah not convinced that glitter could be good or bad. It’s just glitter. 

You walked around the auditorium looking for Lexi and failing to find her. You started asking around, feeling sure that someone had to have seen her. You knew she was here, having seen her enter at the start of rehearsals. Walking around the front of the auditorium, peering down aisles, you were about to go check backstage when you heard a Brad Davis.

Now you’re not sure why, you didn’t do anything wrong after all, but a panic settled in you. Next thing you knew, you jumped into one of the aisles and crouched down. 

He was walking up the main row between the chairs, script in hand, talking to someone beside him who you couldn’t see. They were moving closer to you. Shit. 

In a rush, you start crawling, crawling, down to the opposite side of the aisle they were approaching. You were almost out, but you accidentally pulled down one of the chairs that are built to automatically flip up. Not a loud noise, but loud enough. You wince but don’t stop until you're sitting against the side of the row of chairs, out of their sight. 

You could hear the chatter stop and the footsteps slow. You sucked in your breath and folded in on yourself even more. You were already coming up with a cover for yourself. 

‘Oh, hey Brad. Yeah, I’m on the floor. Not avoiding you or anything, just….decided to see what the view of the stage would be like from here. Not good!’

It sucked and you really hoped you wouldn’t have to use it.

It seemed as though your luck for the day hadn’t expired because you heard them mumble amongst themselves and move on. After a few moments, You let out a sigh of relief and started crawling down towards the stage. You weren’t risking getting seen just yet.

You were starting to like Brad, you really were! But after recent events you had started to think the interest he’d taken in you wasn’t the same as the platonic one you’d taken in him. And you were bad at confrontation or being put on the spot. Obviously.

Plus you figured he’d want to talk about that weird moment with Peter in the hall the day before and you’d rather pretend that didn’t happen at all. Even you didn’t know what that was. 

Moving slowly, you kept your head down, trying to reach the stage so you could just bolt behind the curtains. Suddenly, a pair of pointed-toe black flats came into your view. You paused and slowly looked up. In front of you stood Ms. Lightbody. 

“Hi.” You said meekly. She looked down at you with a furrow in her brows, “Hello Miss Y/L/N. May I ask what you’re doing?”

You fumbled for a moment but finally found yourself. Clearing your throat, you stood up and dusted yourself off. “I dropped an earring.”

Way better than that other bullshit you were thinking of. 

She stared at both your ears, which adorned a pair of earrings you never took off. “Oh?”

“I’ve already put it back in,” you explained to her lamely. She gazed somewhere behind you and you followed her stare. Brad and his friend were still walking up and down the main row, lost in some conversation. You gulped, if she had seen you earlier, it would’ve been fairly obvious to her the real reason behind your little floor exploration. And that was just embarrassing. 

She hummed in response, “I see.” Her voice carried some tone of understanding and you felt yourself run hot with embarrassment under her gaze. 

“Did you need something, Miss?” You rushed out quickly, hoping to change the subject. 

“Yes,” she focused her gaze on you now, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say there was a sprinkle of amusement in her eyes. 

Ms. Lightbody was a newer addition to Midtown’s staff. She came in to replace the school’s previous drama teacher, and she also subbed at times. Most of the student body disliked her, thinking her short-tempered and strict but you knew that was far from the truth. It seemed this play helped you better understand your peers and superiors alike. She was an amazing teacher and, contrary to popular belief, she wasn’t an impatient maniac who didn’t have the skill set to teach. She was always willing to help someone who didn’t understand, but what she didn’t tolerate was purposeful incompetence.  

“Lexi is in one of the rooms backstage, I need you to go find her and tell her there’s one more scene we need to rehearse.” She paused and looked behind you again. “And I suggest you get to that soon because I think your friend, Mr. Davis, has spotted you.”

You blanched, unsure whether to dwell on the fact that she knew, or that Brad had spotted you. You turn slightly only to see Brad already looking towards you. 

You quickly snapped your head towards the lady in front of you again. “On it!” You told her, not waiting for a response before shooting up the stage and behind the curtain. 

You could’ve sworn you heard her laugh. 

You were backstage looking for Lexi. It wasn’t like her to stay tucked away like this, since rehearsals had started she was always ready for anything, talking things over with the other cast members, ready for criticism but rarely needing it. There was probably no one on the cast who was as excited as her. 

“Lex, you here?” You whispered softly. Behind the stage was empty and dark. You walked around carefully, trying not to accidentally trip on anything of the string or left-out equipment. All of this was going to need to be changed before tomorrow evening. 

Suddenly, so quiet you could barely hear it, was a shuffling noise. You looked around for some switch, finding it on the wall to your left. You switched it on and the action earned you a hiss from someone a little further in the room. 

You turned quickly, finding Lexi sitting at one of the small makeup desks, hands coming up to cover her face as if she were some vampire. 

That worried you. 

You rushed to her, placing a soft hand on her shoulder. “Lex,” your tone was quiet so as not to disturb her anymore. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

She looked up at you, hair disheveled, face a little pale, and eyes tired. “No, no I’m fine.” She shook her head but you weren’t convinced. 

You moved to sit at the desk next to her. “Okay,” you said softly, “then why are you sitting back here?”

She sighed a little. “I’ve just had a small headache since lunch. But I’ll be okay really. 

Your frown only deepens. “Did you eat today? Drink water?”

She nodded then rubbed her temples a little, shutting her eyes as she did so. “It’s probably my fault, I didn’t sleep well last night and I’m just tired.”

Her eyes snapped open and she looked more alert now. She clasped her hands together and smiled at you. “So wake me up Y/N/N. Tell me something interesting.”

Skeptically, you eyed her up and down. “Are you sure that's all? Should I take you to see the nurse?”

She shook her head again, her hair flying around her face as she did so. “No. I’m actually feeling better already, talking to you. I think the smell of Noah’s Axe Body Spray was just really setting everything off.” She gestured her hands around herself. 

You laughed, glad to see her acting like herself again. “But seriously,” she said, putting a hand on your knee. “Talk to me, it’s waking me up. How was your day?”

You let out a breath and leaned back in the chair, looking up to the ceiling. “Brad asked me out.”

She gasped so loud, you started up in your seat. “Shut up. Shut up!”

Smiling, you shook your head. “Well not yet. But I know it’s coming, you know what I mean? He keeps trying to get me alone, and he gets really close and starts staring into my eyes and everything. But he keeps getting interrupted.”

She gasped again, softer this time, and held her hand to her chest. “Oh my god. That’s so cute! Are you gonna say yes?”

You stilled for a moment. Were you going to say yes? You’d figured out what was most likely coming your way, but you hadn’t really thought of how to handle it. You couldn’t crawl across floors to avoid him forever. That would make graduation very awkward. 

And at the same time, you didn’t want to reject him. Brad was sweet, maybe not the type of person you usually went for, but he had his own things. Maybe you needed something new, something different. 

But something in your gut was telling you maybe you shouldn’t go out with someone who made you panic-crawl on the floor just to avoid having a conversation with them. 

Not to mention, you just weren’t interested in him like that. At all.

Lexi was going on about something or other, seemingly fine at the moment. “I totally knew he was into you. I mean, that whole picking you up in the library thing?” She shook her head. “Not just a platonic thing.”

You laughed loudly and stood up. You held out a hand for her to take. “Come on Lex, everyone’s looking for their star.”

She took your hand and stood. “I bet they are, I’ll have to apologize for hogging you from them.”

You laughed again and started pushing her towards the front stage. “Oh! I almost forgot to tell you! We’re playing with glitter!”

The rest of the day went by smoothly. You, Lexi, and Lacy applied the finishing touches to the backdrop. As Lacy had guessed, Lexi agreed with her. Lacy went on about all the qualities the perfect glitter should consist of; ‘catches the light, soft, and dustable.’

You were sure that last one wasn’t even a word but Noah gave in eventually and let the girls have their win. But that wasn’t enough for the three of you. Not wanting to put the glitter away just yet, you started sprinkling it on each other. 

Word spread across the auditorium like wildfire, and soon, a line started forming on the stage to get glitter sprinkled on you, boys and girls alike. Ms. Lightbody shut that down quick.

You stuck to avoiding Brad for the rest of the day. It wasn’t hard, you were both busy, him being one of the leads and you helping with a little bit of everything and making sure everyone stayed in order (with the exception of the glitter fiasco). 

At the end, Ms. Lightbody had gathered you all around to talk about how tomorrow was going to go. She went over the basics, what time the show was going to start, and what time you all had to be there. It was things you all already knew but it was good to go over. In the end, you thought she looked a little sad, and apparently, you weren’t the only one because someone else pointed it out. That made everyone jump and you all pulled her into a group hug. This little group had become like a crazy family and you were forever grateful you had a chance to be part of it. 

You left quickly after that, wanting to get out before Brad offered to walk you home or something. You said bye to your friends, taking extra time with Lexi. She had been more reserved after you two talked, not as tired as you’d found her backstage, but still not quite herself. You told her to get lots of sleep tonight. She was needed tomorrow

Now, you were sitting on the rooftop ledge, kicking your feet as Spider-Man sat next to you.

“Are you excited?” He asked. 

You nodded, smiling. “Very. We’ve all been working really hard for this. And you should see how great a job everyone has done. I can’t wait to see it all put together finally.”

“I’m sure you’ve done a great job,” he nods. “I really wish I could be there. You’re gonna need to take some videos for me. Show me afterward.”

You grinned wide. “Seriously? You’d wanna see?”

“Heck yea I wanna see,” he said, voice serious.

“Okay.” You nodded. “I’ll take plenty of videos, don’t worry.”

“Thank you.” He said, raising a hand a ruffling your hair. You laughed and slapped his hand away. He stared at you a little before asking, “What’s in your hair?

You grinned wide. “Glitter.”

He shook his head, laughing. “I don’t even wanna know.” You giggled beside him. 

 “Are your friends going to be there?” He asked.

“Um,” you say, still smiling. “Yeah, I think so. They said they will, and I think it’ll be fun.” MJ had told you she was definitely going to be there, she couldn’t wait to make fun of the kids in the play, she’d already bought her ticket. Ned said he wanted to see it as well, and Peter…well, after recent events you couldn’t think of any reason he’d be there. He probably wouldn’t be able to find the time in his busy schedule, even if you two were still together. So it was better like this. 

“What about your parents? Are they gonna try to make it?”

A beat passed before you replied. “No,” you shook your head. “I don’t think they’re gonna be there.”

He was quiet for a moment, not sure what to say. He almost regretted asking. 

“But it’s okay,” you said, your voice so soft, it took everything in him not to reach over and pull you into his arms. “I wasn’t expecting them to anyway. I have my friends, that’s enough.” You cleared your throat and wrapped your arms around yourself. 

He watched you for a bit and it hit him then, just how strong you were. How much you had on your plate at the moment. How little you let it show. 

Your parents were basically roommates to you, you barely saw them, they were just there. The play you were managing? While everyone else had one job, one task they needed to focus on and get done, you were involved in everything. He remembered you mentioned to him a few weeks ago something about your phone blowing up since planning started. He never thought much of it then. 

The more he thought about it, the more he realized you were always doing this. When it wasn’t the play it was something with your family, or tutoring other kids at school. And on top of all of that, you were always available for your friends whenever they needed you, and your grades never slipped. Your essays and tests were used by your teachers as examples. He always knew, but not really. It was painfully obvious right now. And it was even more obvious to him that he never helped. He should’ve helped make things easier for you, because he loves you, because he cares for you. But all he did was add to your plate. The thought made him feel sick. 

“I’m so sorry,” Even through his voice-changer you could hear the sincerity, the despair in his voice. Your brows furrowed. 

“You don’t need to apologize, it’s not that big of a deal. I swear,” you told him sincerely. 

He nodded but the movement almost looked forced. “How have you been?”

You paused. “Good,” you nodded, as if confirming your own statement. “Busy, but good.”

“Have you taken a moment to breathe recently? Just relax yourself for a few seconds?”

You were taken aback by his question. No one had ever asked you that. “I- I don’t think so,” you replied quietly. 

“Alright, that’s okay, we can do that together. Here,” he held out both his hands, palms up. “put your hands in mine.”

You followed his lead and placed your hands in his. The material of his suit felt smooth, but thicker than it looked, and you were surprised to see how well your hands fit together. 

“Close your eyes.” He said, and you saw the whites of his mask flicker shut. You followed his lead. 

“Great. Now big breath, through your mouth.” You sucked in a handful of air, the sound ringing out like a quick gasp. 

His hands gave yours a gentle squeeze. “No,” he said, voice soft. You felt your face heat up and you tried again, this time slowly letting the air enter and fill your lungs.

“Now out through the nose.”

You let the air leave you, not even realizing how tense you were until you felt yourself relax. Your eyes fluttered open and you found him already staring at you. His thumbs had started gently caressing your hands and you found you didn’t mind at all.

“A few more times.” He told you, and you nodded at him. You closed your eyes again and repeated your actions from before, more sure of yourself this time.

When you had finished, you opened your eyes again. His eyes were still open and you thought his mask shifted into something like a grin.

“Better?” He asked you, and you smiled, nodding your head. It was crazy to you to think about how over these past few days, that very mask had turned into a comforting sight for you. You really thought of New York’s Spider-Man as a friend. And you hoped he felt the same.

You nodded again, unable to take your eyes off of him. You weren’t even aware you were still holding hands until he removed his from yours. You almost protested, your hands suddenly feeling colder than they ever have. 

But then he brought his hands up to cup each side of your face. 

Oh. 

You were sure you were melting. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt like this, and you couldn’t even see his face! You wished he’d just rip it off, you wouldn’t care who was underneath. 

He brought his face closer and leaned his forehead against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut. You stayed that way for a minute, both of you just enjoying the moment before you decided to speak. 

“Take it off.” You whispered. 

“What?” He asked, his voice matching your volume. You had opened your eyes and you were looking at him now. You could clearly see the eyes of his mask were still closed and you fought off a smile. 

You brought up your hand to his face and traced his jawline. You could feel his jaw flex underneath your fingers and you could’ve sworn you heard him gulp. 

“Take it off.” You repeated, your thumbs now caressing his cheekbones. 

His eyes flew open and he leaned back. “No,” he shook his head, moving even further from where you two were seated next to each other. 

Your brows shot up at his sudden change of demeanor. You wished you hadn’t said anything. “Ok,” you said, voice quiet. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I was just- ugh I’m so sorry.”

“No!” He repeated. “Don’t apologize I- you did nothing wrong.”

But the way he was acting was making you feel otherwise.

“I have to go. Good luck tomorrow.” He said, stood up, flung out his wrist, and started swinging through the buildings faster than you could blink. 

Fuck. 

You were a wreck. 

Everyone was running all over the place, orders being shouted across the entire backstage. Some people seemed to have invited their friends to hang out backstage (which was not allowed). Every corner was packed. And you were in the middle of it all. 

“Y/N!” Ms. Lightbody called for you from across the swarm of bodies. You made your way through everyone, not stopping until you were standing in from of her. She placed a hand on your shoulder and steered you until you were both standing in a corner, as far away from the others as you could get. 

“Miss Walker isn’t here, and it’s starting to become a problem.” She told you, voice serious.

You blanched. “Lexi isn’t here yet?!”

She shushed you. “I don’t want to start a commotion. Things are barely going smoothly as is, and this will not make it better. Everyone will start worrying if they find out their lead hasn’t arrived, and we cannot have that.”

You nodded at her, mind racing. “What do we do?”

She sighed, “For now? Wait and hope for the best, there’s still a bit more time.”

You nodded again and she took a second to look around the room. “What is all this? Half these kids have no business here!” She turned towards you again. “I'm going to try to reach Miss Walker’s mother, deal with all these children Y/N, please. I want them gone by the time I get back.”

She turned to leave before she remembered something that had her turning right back, “You have Miss Walker’s contact information, correct?” You nodded at her again. “Great. Try to get ahold of her, will you? The sooner we figure this out the better.”

“Sure thing Ms. Lightbody.” You told her, waving her off, your voice sounding a hundred times more confident than you felt. 

You watched her walk out the back door to make her phone call, and you paused for a moment, unsure what to do first. You turned and pulled out your phone. Heading for the door Ms. Lightbody just walked out of, you pulled up your message thread with Lexi.

girl WRU !!!

you were needed like 30 mins ago !!!! 

get here-

You bumped into someone, your phone flying out of your hand before you could send that last one. You would’ve been sent flying backward if the person hadn’t gripped your waist tight to keep you steady.

“Woah, careful.”

You’d know that voice anywhere. Peter. 

“Parker,” you said, backing away quickly. “What are you doing here?” And you don’t mean for it to come out as harsh as it did but…there’s just a lot on your plate right now. 

And it seems he can tell. He bent over to grab your phone, placing it back in your hands. “The lady at the office saw me walking by and asked me to drop these off.” He waved a big bag you hadn’t noticed in his other hand. 

You reached for it, saying, “Oh my god, perfect.” At the same time, he asked, “Are you okay?”

You completely ignored him, taking the bag from his hands. Turning around, you caught Jack walking by at just the right moment. “Jack! Here,” you called him over, “Those supplies you guys were asking for.”

“Sweet, thanks Y/N/N!” He said, leaning in to give you a quick hug. You smile but then quickly shove him away, “Thank J, but you really need to go finish. Like, right now.”

He straightened his posture and saluted you. “Ma’am yes ma’am!” He said, then he turned to Peter, who had been watching the whole exchange, “Sup Parker.” He sent a little head nod towards him, as he started walking away. 

Peter returned it, brows slightly furrowed as he looked between the two of you, “Hey man.” 

You started walking around, trying to count up how many people there were who weren’t a part of the cast or crew. 

One, two, three-

You felt a hand placed on your shoulder and you turned quickly, only to see Peter still hasn’t left. 

You looked at him in disbelief. The nerve of this guy. There’s no way he seriously thinks you’re going to talk about the two of you right now, is there?

“How are you?” He asks again and you’ve never found someone dumber than you did right now. 

“Hello?! Things aren’t going too hot in case you can’t tell, and you aren’t exactly helping right now!”

He nodded, “Okay. What can I do to help?”

You scoffed. “I don’t know, leave. It’s so crowded in here and I have to get all these extra people out. Shit,” you smacked your forehead. “I forgot I have to find Lexi. Fuck! And I have to-.”

“Y/N!” Someone shouted your name for the umpteenth time that night. You turned and met Vanessa, one of the people in charge of makeup. 

“We’re out of setting powder.”

“What?!”

She winces. “I know, I’m so sorry. We thought we had enough but then some of the boys were playing and knocked over-,”

You waved her off, not wanting to hear the rest of it. “Okay, okay. Do none of the other girls have any extra? Is no one willing to lend you some?”

She shook her head. “No! I already asked. I don’t know what to do.”

“I’ll get you some.” Peter stepped in. “Just send me a picture of what it looks like and I’ll be back in ten minutes tops.”

Vanessa gasped, “Dude. You’re a lifesaver. Y/N,” she met your eyes, “your boyfriend is a lifesaver!”

“Oh he’s not-,” you started, but she was already walking away. You turned towards Peter, the disbelief on your face getting stronger every time you looked at him today. 

You started shaking your head, “What on earth are you doing Parker?”

“Helping you.” He said as if it were the easiest thing on earth. He wondered if you were making a conscious effort not to say his first name. 

Your head wouldn’t stop shaking left and right. “What? What do you- I don’t-,”

He cut you off, “And I’m gonna get rid of all the people who don’t belong here too.” He looked around the room before looking down at you. “You, just…take care of yourself Y/N. Don’t stress too much, it’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure you even have the time?”

Shit. 

His face fell and you immediately felt guilt seep into your bones. 

“Peter I’m so-,” 

He cut you off again, his voice quieter this time. “No, that was..that was fair. But I mean it.” He raised his voice, sounding more sure now. “I’m going to help you out.”

He stepped away from you suddenly, leaving you standing with your mouth agape. He walked to the end of the room, stopping right before the door. “Alright, everyone! Listen up,” He clapped his hands together, his voice booming around the room. Everyone quieted down to hear him.

“Unless you had some part in putting all this together, I’m going to need you to follow me out right now. Let everyone do their thing, we don’t need to bother them any more than we already have.”

Everyone was still for a second.

“And,” he continued, “Ms. Lightbody gave me permission to start handing out detentions.”

That got everyone moving. Your brows furrowed as a sea of students started moving through the room and out the door. Ms. Lightbody did no such thing. 

Peter stood to the side, holding the door open. It had come down to the last few people and Peter held back a boy. “You,” he told him, “I’m gonna need you to stay outside this door and make sure no one enters unless they’re part of the cast or crew. We can’t have that happening again.”

“Oh shit. Like a bouncer?” The kid asked eagerly.

Peter stared for a bit before he nodded. “Yeah man, exactly. And listen,” he pointed at you, “if you’re not sure, you ask her, alright?”

The boy turned towards you and you offered him a smile. “Damn! She’s smokin’!” He exclaimed. If you weren’t so busy, you might’ve blushed.

Peter narrowed his eyes, and it seemed like he was considering something before he quickly shook his head. He grabbed the boy by the shoulder and placed him on the outside of the door. 

“Vanessa!” He shouted. “Send me a picture of the powder, I’m going right now.”

“Already sent Pete, thanks!” She shouted back, giving him a thumbs up from where she was standing by the makeup chairs. 

Pete? Why would she call him Pete? She doesn’t know him like that. I used to call him Pete-

You stopped your train of thought. You could not afford to think like that right now.

“Perfect.” He said, he made to move away but his eyes met yours and he froze. “I’m gonna…” he trailed off, feet stuck to the ground as his thumb pointed to the door. 

“Of course,” you nodded quickly. “And Peter,” you stop him before he turns to go, “thank you. So much.” You hoped your voice carried the sincerity you felt.

He smiled at you softly, “Anything for you Y/N/N.”

This time, you did blush. You turned away before he could see you and placed a palm on your forehead. 

“Wow,” a voice said from beside you. Brad. “Didn’t know Parker had that in him.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, “me either.”

“Hey, where’s Lexi?” Someone in the room asked. You felt your heart drop. Lexi. You’d completely forgotten about her after that whole thing with Peter. 

You had a show that needed to start in less than an hour and your star still hadn’t shown up. 

You pulled out your phone again, pulling up her contact. You were about to hit the ‘call’ button but right then, Ms. Lightbody walked in. 

She was holding her phone to her ear, and she was staring straight at you, her face full of dread.

“Lexi can’t make it. She’s got some type of flu, she can’t get out of bed. I am on the phone with her mother right now.”

Your jaw dropped. Chatter broke out everywhere. The kids were panicking, wondering what to do now, now that the lead of the whole show wasn’t going to be here.

Fuck. You should’ve known, yesterday when you saw her. But you were stupid enough to believe it was just lack of sleep. You should’ve figured it out faster so you could’ve planned something. Stupid, stupid, stupid-

“Miss Y/L/N.” You looked up when you heard your name. “She’s asking to speak to you.” Ms. Lightbody holds her phone out for you to take. 

Your eyes widen, “Me?”

She nodded, hand still outstretched toward you. You swallowed and walked your way toward her. You reached for the phone and held it to your ear. The chatter around the room stopped, everyone straining to hear what was going to happen next.

“Hello?”

“It wasn’t the Axe Body Spray.”

You barked out a laugh at the unexpected joke. “Lex! Be serious, what happened.”

“I got sick when I got home from rehearsal yesterday, I’ve been asleep since.” It was then that you heard how different her voice sounded. Nasally and broken, like she’d swallowed a lawn mower. 

“My mom’s only woken me up about twice to drink some medicine,” she continued, breaking into a fit of coughing at the end of her sentence. Yeah, maybe it was a good thing she didn’t come.

“Lex,” you repeated, sounding more desperate this time, “what’re we gonna do?”

“Wait,” someone in the room with you starts, “what about her understudy?”

“There is no understudy, dumbass!” Someone quipped right back. 

“You,” Lexi said. 

“Huh?” You replied. 

“You, Y/N.” She repeated. “You need to do it. You need to play Stephanie. No one else could do it. You know all the lines. You know the whole play.”

You paled. “Be so fucking for real with me right now Lexi Walker.”

“I am.” She said seriously. Or, as seriously as she could sound when she had to cough after every other word she spoke.

People were leaning in now, trying to hear what was going on between the two of you. You ignored them, “Lex, there’s no way. You know I can’t do that.”

“Oh my god!” Someone shouted. Lacy. “Y/N! Y/N can do it!”

You shook your head quickly. “No! I can’t!” You replied to her, the phone still pressed to your ear.

“You have to, Y/N, please, for me. You know how much this means to me. You’re the only person I trust,” Lexi begged

There are shouts from your cast-mates now, encouraging you to take the role when that was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Lex, babe,” you tried to reason, “I didn’t rehearse as much as you did! I don’t know it like you.”

“No,” she agreed, “you know it better. All that time you spent, going over every detail of the set, the costumes, the script. It was for this. Now please, you know you can do it.”

You paused. You didn’t want to, but it was really looking like you had no choice. You looked around at everyone in the room, they all worked so hard, hell, you worked so hard to make this happen. You weren’t gonna let it all be for nothing.

You rubbed your temple with one hand, the other holding the phone up to your ear. “Do you guys really think I can do it?” You looked around at everyone, hoping they’d answer honestly.

A chorus of agreement rang out from the group but Ms. Lightbody stepped in. “Miss Y/L/N,” she started, “I know none of this has been ideal. And I know we’re asking a lot. You didn’t come in today expecting to step onto that stage, but right now, that’s what we need. And I think we would all appreciate your help in these unexpected circumstances.”

You stared at her for a moment. You always wondered why she spoke so formally all the time, maybe one day you’ll ask her.

“Sure, I’m down.” You shrugged and everyone started cheering. 

“Oh good,” Lexi sighed, “cause I need to go throw up right now, so bye. Tell everyone to take lots of photos and videos for me please!”

You winced. “We will Lex, you just work on feeling better. Now go, I love you.”

“Love you too babe.” She replied before hanging up quickly. 

“Alright,” Ms. Lightbody started pushing you to the makeup chairs. “Have a seat Y/N. Girls,” she turned toward the makeup crew. “Get started on her, afterward, take her to hair and then, get her into her costume.”

They all chorused an agreement and started fussing over you. You were one of the last people to get ready, everyone one else having already had their turn. 

With so many people working on you, your makeup was done in no time. Soon, only Vanessa was left and she was powdering your face.

“Peter came back?” You asked her once you realized what she was holding in her hands. 

She nodded. “Yeah, a few minutes ago, but he didn’t come in, left the stuff with the dude outside the door who’s calling himself our ‘bouncer’.”

You nodded, “Oh okay.”

“You’ve got a great boyfriend Y/N, seriously. Not many guys I know would help out like that, no matter…”

You zoned out while she was doing the finishing touches on your face. Not many guys you know either, Peter included. Or at least, the Peter you’d come to find yourself in a relationship with. The old Peter, however, would’ve done anything for you, and you for him. You got a glimpse of him earlier tonight and you wondered what it was that triggered that. 

The few moments of silence gave you time to go over everything that's been happening recently in your head. You’ve had a hectic past few weeks, but especially this last week. With the last few rehearsals, everything with Peter, everything with Spider-Man. Oh…

And then there was him…

There was a moment yesterday. You tried to gaslight yourself into thinking you imagined it but you didn’t. It was real. Until you ruined it.

You’d gone to bed late last night, staying on the roof even after he’d left in case he decided to come back so you could apologize again. You’d felt downright terrible all night. And this morning. 

It was none of your business to ask him to take off his mask. Who the hell did you think you were? There might’ve been something before but there was no way…not after the way he reacted last night. You’d pissed him off. And now you’d lost another friend.

“There you go!” Vanessa said, pulling back from your face and grinning. She held up a mirror for you to take a look. “What do you think? I think it matches Stephanie’s description pretty well, no?”

You gasped, “Oh my god Vanessa, this is exactly how I pictured her! When all this is over you have to teach me how to do my eyeliner like this.”

“Deal.” She grinned.

Suddenly, Ms. Lightbody walked by. “Who is that child standing outside the door?” She asked. Vanessa shot you a look and you subtly shook your head at her, and at anyone who turned towards you. 

No one answered her. “He asked me for my ID?!” You choked back a laugh. “He doesn’t even go here!” She continued. Everyone successfully avoided her, playing busy with whatever task they had in front of them. Vanessa kept brushing over your face with a clean brush while you both fought back smiles.

“Y/N!” Ms. Lightbody called. You shot out of your chair and approached her. “Yes ma’am?”

“Is your makeup all done?” You nodded while she examined your face. “Very well, head over to hair, we need everyone ready soon! Curtain opens in 15!”

That last one was directed at everybody and you could feel the shift in the atmosphere. If everyone wasn’t working before, they were now. 

You headed over to hair and let one of the people there pin it up for you. After that, you were held into your costume, your friends pulling on layer after layer before finally, you were completely ready. 

You looked in the mirror. “I look I came out a Jane Austen novel,” you murmured. 

Lacy, who stood beside you, laughed. “And it suits you! You look beautiful Y/N, stunningly classic. Very vintage.” She nodded in approval. 

You turned towards her and smiled, “Thank you, Lace.” You sucked in a breath and ran your hand down the hem of your costume. “I’m nervous,” you admitted shyly. 

“Don’t be,” she replied, voice soft. “Hey, if you could pull off that scavenger hunt, this should be a piece of cake.” She smirked wickedly at you. 

You laughed, “Actually, you’re right.”

“I always am.” she shrugged

“SHOWTIME EVERYONE, GET IN YOUR PLACES!” Ms. Lightbody’s voice boomed across the whole backstage. 

You both looked at each other. “Break a leg.” She grinned at you. 

You grinned right back. You could handle this. 

The anxiety from before had mostly worn off. Now, all you felt were nervous jitters and even a little excitement. Everyone was right, you knew everything about this play like the back of your hand, and you were looking forward to being out there with people you’d come to think of as friends. 

You got into place, standing beside Brad and some of your other cast-mates who were going to be in this first scene with you.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and he looked down at you with a large smile on his face. 

“Hi,” you replied, smiling right back. 

“Don’t think I got the chance to tell you, but I’m really happy you’re doing this.”

“Yeah, I think I am too.”

“Curtain warmers on?” Ms. Lightbody spoke into a little headset. “Perfect. And…action!”

The lights blinded you for a second, once the curtain opened, and you had to stop yourself from turning your face away. In the beat you had before the scene came to life, you chanced a glance at the crowd. You really wished you hadn’t. 

Peter Parker was sitting front row. 

As quickly as you looked, you averted your gaze, but not before you noticed a few things. Beside him sat Ned, and in the row behind them, right behind Ned’s chair, sat MJ. And all three of them had their mouths hanging open. You had to fight down the heat threatening to rise to your face. 

You never told them, hell, you didn’t even know. What were they gonna think? There was no way you could pull this off, you were all fooling yourselves, everyone was wrong and-

The first line was delivered, and it all came to life. 

You were panting, running backstage. There was a small intermission at the moment, and you had just changed your outfit, from the simple gown you were adorning, to a bigger one. This one was more detailed and more eye-catching. It was supposed to be special because it was meant for the last scene of the whole play. The confession. Your kiss with Brad.

In the heat of the moment, you’d forgotten that specific detail. And as you sat down in the makeup chair again and one of the girls reapplied your lipstick, it was all you could think about. 

You had to kiss Brad. And Peter would be sitting front row watching the whole thing. 

That shouldn’t matter. First of all, it was all part of an act. Even if you were still with Peter, (which you weren’t. You had to keep reminding yourself of that little detail) it wouldn’t have mattered because you were doing it for the play. A play you weren’t even planning on being a part of, acting-wise, of course. 

And then there was Spider-Man. If there was anyone you had to be kissing right now, you wished it was him. But there was no chance of that happening after last night. You wondered how he was feeling right now. He’d probably tell you to relax and stop stressing yourself out. 

The thought made you take in a breath through your mouth, and slowly exhale from your nose. Just like he’d taught you. You felt yourself relax and, not for the first time that night, you decided that you needed to just get through tonight. And then you could worry about everything else. 

The girl helping you with your makeup (you didn’t recognize her, but appreciated the help nonetheless) pulled away and smiled. “Alright, I think you’re good to go.” 

“Thank you.” You smiled back and stood from your chair.

Ms. Lightbody approached you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Come on, Miss Y/L/N. We need to get you in place.”

You nodded as she led you to the wing on the side of the stage, the curtains were still down, and by the time they opened again, you would be standing on the makeshift balcony (built by the props team), soon to be joined by Brad. 

You went to approach the steps of the balcony when you felt her hold you back.

“I wanted to thank you again Y/N. I know we were all planning on Miss Walker doing all this but honestly…I couldn’t be prouder.”

Your heart warmed at her confession. You were upset you didn’t get to see Lexi shine like you’d been planning but you hoped you’d do her proud. You were glad to know you did Ms. Lightbody proud. 

Without saying a word, you throw your arms around her in a warm embrace. She quickly reciprocated. 

“I know we’ve all given you a hard time these past few weeks, and we don’t say it enough but we appreciate you. All of us.”

You both pulled back and her eyes were full of emotion. “Thank you Y/N, truly. Now go, I’ll get Mr. Davis ready.”

You nodded and stepped onto the set, positioning yourself at the end of the balcony. The balcony protruded from the side of the stage and covered a quarter of it. The backdrop you’d been appreciating just yesterday now stood to your side. You saw parts of it glitter from the light leaking in from backstage and you stifled a laugh.

Soon, the curtain opened. You’d grown used to the lights by now, welcoming their glow over your face. You gripped the railing and played broken-hearted, right now, Stephanie and Gabriel had just had a falling out during a ball and you had run out onto the balcony to get some air. 

“Stephanie.” Brad approached behind you, and you turned around in fake shock.

The hardest part about acting, you’d come to find, was keeping a serious face and not laughing at yourself or your partner.

“Leave me be, Gabriel.” You waved a hand at him, turning away. 

He caught your arm and held it gently between the two of you, standing so close, you were trapped between the railing and him.

“I can’t,” he said, his voice strangled. He looked down at you, face so pained, you almost believed him. 

And so it began, the two of you going back and forth, delivering your lines, monologues about your feelings for each other, and how nothing in the world mattered except holding the other person, even for a moment. 

Brad was finishing up, he was pacing back and forth in front of you while you listened intently.

“…And all this, because I love you.” He stopped in front of you now, hands coming up to cup your face. You did your best to get your expression to convey the love you (or Stephanie) were supposed to be feeling and then it happened. 

Brad leaned, crashing his lips onto yours. You throw your arms around him, meeting him just as eagerly, and tried your best not to think about all the people currently watching suck each other’s faces off. One of his hands traveled down to your waist while the other moved from your cheek to hold the back of your head as he dipped you. Cheers broke out across the crowd. 

You two stayed locked together like that for a few moments as the curtains closed, and then you broke apart. You were both panting, faces flushed, but you didn’t have time to think about what just happened. You and Brad had started moving off the balcony and onto the actual stage itself, the other members of the cast and crew joining you to take the final bow. 

You all lined up across the stage, hands interlocked. With you and Brad in the middle, the curtains opened. You could still hear the applause before, but now, it got even louder and you couldn’t help the big smile that overtook your face. People were whistling, and clapping, someone was even throwing roses. You all took a bow together, and rose together, throwing your interlocked hands in the air. 

Your body was buzzing with adrenaline. It was over, you’d actually done it. You could see Ms. Lightbody standing to the side, gleaming with pride at you all. 

Soon, you all let go of each other and started embracing and exchanging congratulations. Brad turned toward you and pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you up a little. You laughed, holding onto him just as tight. The applause seemed never-ending, even as you all started walking off stage. 

Now backstage, there was a buzz in the air. Not the same as a couple hours ago, which had been anxiety and nerves. This was triumph, pride, and adrenaline. 

“Alright everyone,” Ms. Lightbody approached the center of the room once everyone had reconvened. “We’ve finally finished. And it was a hit.”

That caused everyone to start whooping and shouting. She rolled her eyes but even she couldn’t hide the smile creeping onto her face. 

She held up a hand, “Okay. I just wanted to let you all know, how proud I am of each and every single one of you. You all worked so hard to make this happen and you worked through every problem that came your way.” She gave you a pointed look and the cheers started up again. 

You hid your face in your hands as your friends pulled you into side hugs. “And I just wanted to say,” she continued. “We’ve all had a long night. Leave the cleaning for another day, everyone, go celebrate!”

She waved her hands and everyone started cheering again, moving as one to the back door to meet up with their friends and family. 

As soon as you entered the hall you were bombarded by thanks and praises from your friends. You thanked them and threw their compliments right back at them, saying that this whole thing was a group effort. 

You were flying from one group to another, everyone shouting your name. You were currently with Noah, Jack, and Lacy, telling them how good a job they did on the sets when you heard your name being shouted out again.

You turned around and saw MJ. Grinning, you excused yourself from the group and charged at her, pulling her into a hug without giving her any time to protest. To your surprise, she pulled you in just as tight. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She mumbled into your hair. 

“Oh my god,” you started, “MJ it was insane. It all happened so fast, that Lexi got sick, so she didn’t show up! And I knew all the lines and stuff so I had to step in cause no one thought of casting an understudy and-,”

You pulled back from the hug but kept your hands on her shoulders. “Oh my god, what did you think? Was it bad? You can tell me -,”

“No! No way, holy shit Y/N, it was so good!” 

“Seriously?” you smiled at her. “What happened to the whole ‘school productions are so cringe’ mindset?”

“That was before her best friend was starring in one,” said Ned. You hadn’t realized he was standing beside you two, with Peter beside him.

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” He continued. “The show was amazing. And you popping up on stage was a fun surprise.”

You grinned at him. “Thank you, Ned! I’m so happy you all made it.” You looked at Peter and offered him a small smile. He’d really helped you out today, and the fact that he’d made it to the actual show, and stuck it out till the end, meant a lot as well. 

“Oh of course we made it!” Ned cut it, putting your attention back on him. “Petey here wouldn’t shut up about it. Went out and bought you flowers and everything.”

Your mouth fell open at his words, and for the first time, you noticed the large bouquet in Peter’s arms. You saw Peter nudge his friend hard and Ned winced before his face lit up in understanding. He grabbed MJ by the hand (which she quickly yanked back from him) and said, “Ok, well we’re gonna go talk to someone else. Congrats Y/N!” But you didn’t have a chance to reply before he was scurrying off, MJ with him. 

You stared at them for a bit before turning all your attention to Peter. He cleared his throat before saying, “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“These are for you,” he said, holding out the bouquet of fresh flowers. You accepted them from him and brought them up to your nose, taking in a whiff of the sweet scent. 

“My favorite.” You whispered, fingers lightly tracing the petals. 

He nodded. “Yeah, um, I saw them and I thought you might like them. Especially with everything, you know,” he gestured vaguely, “thought you’d like some flowers.”

Your heart warmed at the thought that he saw your favorite flowers while he was out and thought of you. “Thank you, really. But you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.” He admitted. 

You looked around, unable to meet his eyes. You focused on the floor, “Well thanks Parker, that was really sweet of you.”

He sighed, “Y/N please, I don’t want to-,”

But he got cut off by someone shouting your name. “Y/N!” Brad approaches you two. He looked Peter up and down before turning to you, “Hey, so the whole cast and stuff is going out for ice cream in our costumes, thought it’d be fun. Wanna join?”

Your face lit up, “Of course!” 

He grinned right back at you. “Great. Come on, they’re leaving now.

You turned towards Peter, whose expression looked harder than before. “Listen, thank you so much for your help today, it means a lot. And thank you for the flowers.”

He nodded but his attention was on Brad. He finally turned toward you, his expression notably softening, “Like I said before, anything for you Y/N/N.”

You stayed there for a bit, caught in his eyes, unable to look away. It isn’t until Brad places a hand on your shoulder that you realize you’ve been staring.

“Ready to go?” He asked. You nodded and turned to leave. As you were walking out the door, you turned to look over your shoulder. You weren’t even sure why, but as you did, you caught Peter already staring. You sent him a little wave and he returned it before turning and walking away himself, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

You walked to the ice cream shop with the others, still holding your flowers. And after everything that happened today, all you could think about was Peter. 

You had a blast. The ice cream shop was packed with a bunch of high school kids in old-timesy clothing, laughing and joking with each other. 

Brad had paid for your ice cream, despite your multiple refusals, claiming that they all owed you for stepping in and saving their asses.

“Consider it a thank you for that great kiss earlier.” He winked before walking off. 

That had gotten you to shut up. 

You all sat at tables surrounding each other, even pushing some together. You ate your ice cream in peace, joining the conversation every now and then to make a joke. 

Someone had gotten Lexi on the phone and you all said hello. She congratulated you and you thanked her, letting her know you thought it should’ve been her on that stage instead. She made some joke about ‘if you wanted the whole front row to be covered in vomit, then I totally should’ve been there, you’re right.’ And you all laughed.  

You had noticed Jack and Lacy moved to their own spot across the store. They were laughing together with Jack’s arm around her cocooning them from the world. It seemed they had finally gotten together and you couldn’t be more happy for them.

For some reason, the only thing on your mind was Spider-Man. It was silly but all you could think about was finding a way to make things right with him. It sucked that you had no way to reach him, but you’d decided to wait on the roof tonight, hoping he’d see you while swinging and stop by. Even if he left right after you apologized, you wouldn’t mind. You just wanted to see him. 

You realized how late it was getting, and that it was usually now when you met up with him. So you'd asked Martha, (her mom helped with costumes, but she worked on the props) for a ride back since she had a car and lived in an apartment building near yours. 

She quickly agreed, claiming she was ready to go too, but she had to walk back to the school to grab her car. 

So you’d waited, but you couldn’t fight off your anxiety. Your leg kept bouncing up and down. You stayed like that for a while before Brad put a hand on your knee, stopping the action.

“You alright,” he asked, some sort of half-smile on his face. You looked at him then and thought, I can see why people like you Brad. He was kind, he was funny, he was fairly handsome, pretty popular too. And yet all you could think about was heading back home and waiting for someone you didn’t even really know. 

You nodded, “Yeah, I’m just waiting for Martha to pull up.”

“I could walk you home if you wanted.” He offered. 

You smiled but shook your head, “No, but thank you, I’m kind of in a rush.”

“Everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine.” You assured him. “Just…tired.”

“Yeah,” he nodded at you. “I get that. But hey.”

You looked up at him expectantly. 

“Before you go there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

Your eyes shot open. “Oh?” You said, and it felt oddly reminiscent of that moment the two of you shared in the hall. 

“Yeah. Would you wanna go out with me sometime?”

“Like a date?” You blurted out. Like an idiot, you thought. You knew it was coming and yet you’re acting like he just told you he was Taylor Swift. 

He smiled at you and nodded, “Yeah, like a date.”

Oh Martha, where are you?

You were silent for a few seconds before you cleared your throat. There was no crawling away this time, no Peter running to interrupt. You had to face this. 

“I really like you Brad but…I can’t out with you.”

His expression fell a little, but he didn’t look surprised. “It’s Parker, isn’t it?”

You were taken aback. “Huh?”

He nodded his head towards and flowers lying in your lap, “Parker. I saw you two today. When he was helping before the show, that was all for you. He sat front row before he even knew you were going to be on that stage.”

You blew out a breath and ran a hand through your hair, which you’d taken out of its updo. “I don’t know.” You told him honestly. “I don’t know and that’s the problem. Things are still really weird between me and him, and going out with you? That wouldn’t be fair to me or you.” And the other person you couldn’t wait to see.

He nodded again, understanding coating his features. “I get that, but hey,” he smiled at you, “we’re still friends right?”

You grinned wide, relief flowing through you. The last thing you’d wanted to do was hurt his feelings and you were so glad he was taking this so well. 

“Of course we are,” you replied honestly. Right then, your phone started ringing and you stood up to answer. Martha was outside waiting for you.

You walked back to your table, saying your goodbyes to everyone. You were pulled into hugs and thanked a few more times. You really wanted to take your time but you couldn’t stop the part of you that wanted to rush home and sprint onto the rooftop. 

As soon as you were out the door you were sprinting to the car. You spent the whole ride anxiously fiddling with the bouquet of flowers from Peter. 

You barely thanked her as you stepped out the door, closing it and waving goodbye as she pulled away. 

You rushed straight up the stairs, wasting no minute. You felt hopeful, for the first time in a long time. You were going to make sure he knew you were sorry, make sure the two of you remained friends. 

You stepped onto the roof, the wind blowing around you. Only then did you realize you were still in your costume. That didn’t matter though, you didn’t want to risk going down to change. And you were sure that if he did stop by tonight, he would love to hear about the crazy day you had. 

You stepped close to the ledge, setting the bouquet down by your feet and you leaned over slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the hero you’d come to think of as a friend. 

A weird sense of familiarity washed over you, and you realized, this was exactly what you’d been doing a few hours ago. Standing on that makeshift balcony, waiting for your lover to come so you could make amends. Except, this wasn’t a fake balcony, and there was no way you and Spider-Man were lovers, barely friends at best. But still, there was something familiar there.

You waited. And waited. Just when you were starting to give up hope, you heard the small thwip you’d come to realize signaled his arrival. Soon after, you heard a pair of feet land in the middle of your rooftop. 

You turned toward him, heart racing. For a moment neither of you said anything, just stared at each other, but you quickly decided you needed to get your words out before he left again like last night.

“I am so sorry. I’ve been so worried since last night that I upset you and I can't stand it, please would you-,”

Oh….oh.

Before you could even inhale to get your next word out, he was walking towards you, ripping his mask off, gripping your face, and pulling you into a deep kiss.

You didn’t even get to see him but that was the last thought on your mind. He was kissing you. And it was perfect. Your hands flew up to his hair, and you tugged slightly, making him kiss you even harder.

His mouth moved against yours like he’d been waiting his whole life to do this, and couldn’t believe he finally got the chance. You met him just as eagerly, for each kiss, trying to memorize the feeling of his lips on yours.

Something about this, all of it, felt so, so familiar. But every time you made to pull away, his lips chased yours and you couldn’t help but give in. 

Soon enough you both pulled away to catch your breaths, eyes still shut as you leaned into each other, foreheads touching. You enjoyed the moment for a bit, and then you opened your eyes, about to make a joke about how that was an interesting way to accept an apology.

You gasped out loud, hands flying up to cover your mouth as you stumbled backward. 

“Oh my god,” you whispered. “Oh my god.”

“Y/N/N, I’m so sorry,” he says. Peter says. Because it’s Peter standing in front of you right now and he didn’t seem to be the least bit taken aback by your reaction.

You’re unsure what to say to him, your head is reeling and you can't breathe. 

“Oh my god,” you repeated, your voice barely a breath. 

“Y/N, please, please let me explain.” He stepped toward you and reached out a hand. 

You shook your head so quick, that you thought you might give yourself whiplash. “No. This,” you pointed at him, “is so sick, Peter.” Your voice broke at the end and you tried to fight back the tears that were already burning in your eyes. 

His eyes widened. “Y/N I promise you, it’s not what you think-,”

“What do you think I think Peter?” You asked him, voice full of exasperation. “Because I think, you lied to me. I think, you played me for a fool. I think, you’re sick and twisted for sitting here with me every night and playing friends with me. Asking me about my day, pretending to care. Fuck, asking me about my ex. Continuously,

“I think,” you continued, tears flowing freely now, voice shaky and weak, but still conveying your anger. “I think you got me to trust you, again. Just so you could stomp all over every bit of me, again!”

“It’s not like that Y/N, it was never like that. Please, believe me, sweetheart. Please don’t cry.” He begged, looking like it was taking every muscle in his body to hold himself back from pulling you in again. 

“Why should I believe you?” You snapped at him. It was hard for him to believe that, just a minute ago, he was holding you again. Kissing you like nothing else in the world mattered. He’d give anything to have that back.

“Because every moment we had out here was real! Every concern, every question. I was never playing pretend, I just, ugh!” He groaned out loud, dropping his head in his hands, and tugging his hair tightly before looking up at you again. “I fucked up Y/N,” his voice is watery, and because you can’t undo the time you spent together, as Peter and as Spider-Man, you can’t help the strong impulses you feel to hold him tight. But you stand your ground and wait for him to continue.

“First when I didn’t tell you about this,” he said gesturing towards his suit. “Which has its own reasons. And then again, when I bailed on you all those times, which was because of this. And again when I let you walk away from me that night at school. I should’ve fought for you, I should’ve shown up more, I should’ve shown up every time and never given you any reason to not trust me,

“But I didn’t. And you called things off… And at that moment, all I could think was you, walking down the streets of New York, crying, and distracted.” He shuddered and your heart fell. You’d never thought of it like that. “You don’t know the things I’ve seen,” he said, looking up at you, eyes red and face flushed. 

“So I thought I’d just walk you home, make sure you got there safely, and then I’d start staying away. But it was you,” his voice broke. “And you were so upset and all I could think was that it’s my fault and I hated myself. So when you invited me to hang out on the roof with you, I thought I’d show up, try to cheer you up a little,

“And you made me tea, that night,” he laughed softly. “I don’t think you even realized, but you made it the way I always drink my tea. My favorite.” Your mouth fell open a little when you realized you had, in fact, made his favorite tea that night. He’d told you during a late-night conversation before you two had started dating, and ever since, it was the only tea you drank. 

“So I had to stay,” he continued. “And then we started talking, and you were joking, and telling me things I had no idea about. And I never wanted to leave,” he admitted softly. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked him, pointing at his mask on the floor, voice raspy from the tears still clogged in your throat. “When we were still together? I’ll bet that's why you were always bailing, isn’t it?”

He looked down and nodded. “It is. Or was. I wanted to,” he looked up at you suddenly, his face so sincere, that you could feel the desperation in his next words. “God Y/N, you have no idea how many times I almost did. But I stopped myself every time because the risks of you knowing were too high.”

“Risks?” You asked confused.

He nodded, “I’ve met a lot of people. Bad people. And if the one catches wind of this, of you? If someone ever tried something, I’d never forgive myself.” He looked away shaking his head.

“So no one knows?”

He shook his head again. “Only Ned and May.”

“Ned knows?” You knew they were best friends, but really?

“It's not like that, no.” He waved his hand. “He found out by accident. He was waiting in my room one day, and I crawled in through the window ‘cause I didn’t see him.”

You huff out a breath from your nose. That was so Peter. You’d bet money that May found out in some similar situation.

“Wait,” you started, “if we went through all of that, and you still didn’t tell me, why tell me now?”

“Because I can’t stand to be away from you any longer.” His voice sounded broken, like he’d been dying to get that off his chest.

He stepped closer again, and you didn’t push him away this time, much to his surprise. He doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of you.

“I’ll protect you from anything or anyone that may come your way. I’d do anything for you sweetheart,” he repeated his words from earlier and you felt something grow in your chest. One of his hands came up to cup your cheek, the other, moving to your waist. Your hands rose up to lay on his chest. 

“God, you have no idea how much it was killing me to sit beside you all those nights and not be able to touch you.” He whispered, staring straight into your eyes. 

You met his gaze. You believed him, every word. You’d known Peter for years, you knew when he was lying to you, which was part of why you broke up with him. You knew he was lying to you, or holding something back from you, you just didn’t know what. But you still had a few more questions. 

“Last night. Why did you run off? Why didn’t you just tell me then?”

“Because I was a coward,” he admitted, expression sad. “I was enjoying it all too much, I wasn’t ready to ruin it yet. I still couldn’t believe I found a way to still talk to you, and you were asking to see me,” he blew out a breath.

Yeah, obviously that didn’t initially start well. 

You nodded. “And when you kept asking me about you. About my ex and how I felt about him, why?” That part still had you confused

He looked up, closing his eyes, “I won’t lie to you sweetheart, that was just me being a dumbass. That was complete selfishness and…,”

He trailed off. “And what?” You questioned him. There was some unspoken thing you two were doing right now, that you could ask anything, and he’d answered honestly. It was the least he could do. 

“And jealously,” he finished quietly, looking down at the ground.

“Jealousy?” You repeated, still confused. “But who would you be jealous of…oh.”

And it was then that you realized how you’d talked about Brad to Spider-Man (before you knew who he was of course), and how, right after, when he’d asked about Peter, you’d said something about just trying to forget the whole thing. You had to hold back a laugh when you remembered all that. Poor guy must’ve been going insane. 

He nodded. “You kept talking about that Brad guy and talking about trying to get over me. And I hated that you seemed to be getting over me so quick. Like I said, completely selfish. I'm sorry.”

“No,” you shook your head, “that makes sense actually. But seriously Peter..” You trailed off, shaking your head again.

Worry crept onto his features, “I know I messed up Y/N/N, big time, but I’m willing to do anything-,”

“You really thought I was into Brad?” You asked, wrinkling your nose up at him. 

He let out a breath of relief, before laughing a little. God, he was so happy you were joking with him. 

He leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours, “I’m sorry sweetheart.”

“You’re forgiven,” you told him, the sincerity in your tone impossible to miss, and he knew you were talking about more than the crazy jealousy. 

He looked down into your eyes, his gaze so intense you almost went to look away. “I’m the luckiest man alive,” he whispered, his voice so low, you wondered if he even meant to say it out loud.

His eyes flickered down to your lips, and you took that as your cue. You leaned in, closing the gap between you. He kissed you back instantly. It was softer than the one earlier, but way more meaningful. Every press of his lips on yours felt like repairing something. Mending whatever it was that had broken between the two of you.

You pulled away first because you knew he wouldn’t, but he didn’t let you get far. He started planting kisses all over your face.

"Have I told you," Kiss. "How beautiful," Kiss. "I think you look tonight? And every night."

You laughed, face heating up at his compliments. "Thank you, Petey."

"I love it when you call me that." He said, grinning like a lovesick idiot. He leaned in and kissed your cheek one more time before he pulled away again. 

"I didn't like it." He said, a frown on his face.

"Didn't like what babe?" You asked, tilting your head up at him while your fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

He let out a sigh, "The breakup. Being broken up. Not talking to you, as me, I mean. Not as Spider-Man. And I sure as hell didn't like seeing some other guy make out with my girl in front of everyone."

You laughed and you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach when he called you his girl. "Well don't worry," you told him, moving your hands to cup his face. "We're not doing that again, not if we can help it."

You leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips, before pulling away, which made him whine. 

 He moved his hands to your shoulder as he buried his face in your neck, breathing in your scent. 

“You drive me crazy, sweetheart.” He said, voice muffled by your skin. 

You giggled, “You drive me crazier, Peter Parker.”

‘crazier’ taglist: @coralineyouareinterribledanger @666yourmomdotcom

[cassiabaggins]

Too Bitter, Too Sweet (part one)

A chance encounter gives you a once in a lifetime opportunity: the chance to reunite with your first love, Leon Kennedy.

Fluff and Angst

Words: 4k

Warnings: none. Just Leon being awkward. NO SMUT

(April is an oc, she is VERY briefly mentioned because I couldn't resist)

Reblogs and comments appreciated! Cross-posted on ao3.

You can hardly believe what you're seeing. He's older, with longer hair and a hardened look, but you'd recognize him anywhere. Leon Kennedy, your first love and college boyfriend. 

You're approaching him before you can think about it. 

“Leon?”

He freezes, startling a little like no one has called his name in forever, and turns to stare at you. There is no spark of recognition in those baby blue eyes. 

“Uh, hi?”

“It's me, Leon. Y/N. From college? We… were close.”

Close is an understatement. The two of you had dated for almost a year, but he doesn't seem to recognize you or remember. You suppose you can't blame him. It's been nearly ten years and you've both changed quite a bit.

A beat. Another. 

Then his eyes widen and a soft, shy little smile blooms across his face. “Y/N,” he murmurs, then laughs, running a hand over his hair. “Wow. Hi! You look… different.”

You giggle. Oh Leon. He's really not changed at all. “Different?” You ask.

“It's a good different!” He hurries to say.

“It's good to see you again,” you tell him. 

He nods vigorously, his hair falling into his eyes. “You, too.”

He looks around the area, as if trying to figure out what you're doing here. “What are you doing in D.C.?”

You adjust the strap of your purse. “I'm here for work,” you explain. 

Leon puts his hands in his pockets. “Work, huh? You passed the bar, then? That's amazing.” 

You feel your cheeks warming. “How'd you know I was a lawyer?”

“Because that's what you were studying in college,” he replies. “It wasn't that long ago. You think I forgot? Besides, how many different jobs are there to be done in a courthouse?”

You laugh softly, and Leon grins, clearly pleased that he made you laugh. His smile is exactly the same as you remember it, slightly lopsided, sweet, and genuine. It makes you remember easier times and how he used to kiss you. You shouldn't be thinking about him like that… it's been almost ten years, there's no way he doesn't have a girlfriend.

“Are you still in law enforcement?” You blurt, desperate to distract yourself.

Leon shifts in place, and you think his smile falters slightly.

“Something like that,” he says ambiguously. 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It's hard to explain,” he replies, scratching the back of his head. “Uhm… it's government stuff.”

He's clearly uncomfortable, so you stop pushing. 

“Do you like it?”

“The people I work with are great,” he says.

Not exactly an answer. 

“Well, that’s good,” you say, adjusting your grip on your purse. Leon opens his mouth to reply, but is interrupted by the sound of a jaunty ringtone. 

“Shit,” he mumbles, quickly pulling a cellphone out of his jacket pocket. He frowns when he sees the caller I.D. “Uh, one sec, I have to take this.”

He steps away to answer the phone, and you watch him for a bit, wondering if you should leave. But you can’t bring yourself to. You’ve only just met him again, and just like in college, he fascinates you. But this time, a little over a decade later, there’s so much more to him. Not just physically, though he’s certainly bulked up a bit over the years, but there’s a darkness and mystery to him that excites you. Besides, what woman hasn’t fantasized about reconnecting with the one that got away? 

You’re shaken out of your thoughts by Leon approaching you again. He looks apologetic. “I have to run,” he says. “I’m sorry. But it was really nice to see you again!”

You don’t want him to leave! You want to keep talking to him! You want to know if he’s happy, if he’s got a wife or a girlfriend, if he still likes listening to metal, if chocolate icecream is still his go to flavor.

But he’s already walking away.

“Leon, wait!” you call. “Before you go!” 

He turns and you reach into your purse and pull out one of your business cards. He takes it with his left hand and peers at it. There's no ring on his finger.

“What’s this for?” he asks

“Just in case you need legal advice,” you joke. “Or if you just want to catch up.”

He smiles and fishes his wallet out of his pocket. You catch a glimpse of some sort of badge as he tucks the card carefully inside. “I’ll do that,” he says, and then he's gone.

You settle into your temporary office and log into your computer to begin going through case files. It's humdrum work, but necessary for the success of your client's appeal. But, not five minutes into this, your work phone starts ringing.

Expecting either your boss or a paralegal, you pick it up and introduce yourself by name.

“Uh, whoa,” says the person on the other end. “That was fancy and professional.”

You'd know that voice anywhere.

“Leon?”

He laughs awkwardly. “Yeah, hi. How're you doing?”

You lean back in your seat and twirl the phone cord around your finger, a bashful smile spreading across your face. “Well, not much has changed in the last 20 minutes, to be honest. But it's nice to hear your voice again.”

You can hear the smile in his voice when he replies. “You, too. I hope I'm not interrupting something.”

“You're not,” you assure him. “Although I'm not technically supposed to take personal calls on this line.”

“Yeah, I figured that,” he replies. “But this is the only way I could really contact you.”

“Oh yeah?” You bite your bottom lip, trying to fight a smile. “And what was so urgent that you just had to call me?”

There's rustling on the other end, Leon must be switching the phone to his other ear. He takes a deep breath and lets it out, like he's nervous. Your heartbeat speeds up in anticipation. 

“Well,” he says. “I was just thinking how nice it was to talk to you again. I was hoping we could do that again. Soon. Maybe over coffee?”

It takes all your willpower not to squeal like a teenager. But you're a professional. 

You clear your throat and try to act nonchalant. “Coffee sounds nice.”

“Great!” Leon sounds thrilled. “It's a date!”

“A date?” you tease.

“Uh… I mean… only if you want it to be,” he hurries to clarify. “You still have your maiden name on your business card and I didn’t see a ring, so I assumed— fuck, do you have a boyfriend?”

He meant a date date. You feel a thrill of excitement.

“No,” you say quickly, “no boyfriend. No fiance or husband either… I’m single.”

“Oh, good,” he says, and you almost laugh at how relieved he sounds. “I don’t have any of those either.”

“You don’t have a boyfriend or husband?”

“No wife or girlfriend, either.”

Oh, so he’s got jokes now. You giggle again. God, when was the last time a man had you laughing like this?

“I'm only in D.C. for the summer,” You explain. “Just until the case is over. I don't know many places to get coffee.”

“Well, you're in luck,” he says. “Because I do! I know the perfect place!”

The coffeeshop he recommends is a tiny, hole-in-the-wall place with the best espresso you've had in years. You and Leon plan for only an hour at most, but stay there chatting for nearly two. He even walks you to your car, and as you drive away, watching him wave goodbye in the rearview mirror, you realize that you had done most of the talking. At first, you want to shrivel up and die from embarrassment. Everyone always says that you talk too much, and there you went, yammering away…

But Leon had asked me out again, the other half of your brain pipes up. And he never disliked you talking in the past!

Emboldened by this realization, and determined to eek more information out of Leon next time, you continue on your way.

And so, one coffee date turns into two, then three. Reconnecting with Leon is… it's just amazing. He's older now, hardened by life in a way you can't quite fathom, but he's still so handsome and sweet and attentive. You can forgive his slightly awkward mannerisms and weird schedule and how cagey he is about his job. The first point is nothing new, of course, it's part of what charmed you in the first place, all those years ago. The weird schedule you chalk up to his job, and if it really is government stuff, you can understand why he's so secretive.

Of course, he can't stop you from daydreaming about what his job is, and your imagination thinks up all sorts of dashing occupations. Secret Service, CIA, FBI, Homeland Security… It's fun to imagine him as the dashing hero, leaping in to save the President himself from an assassination or single-handedly stopping a foreign spy organization. He probably looks hot as hell in a fancy suit, sunglasses, and an earpiece.

Coffee dates are nice and all, but you find yourself wanting more. You hint at it a fee times, Leon is oblivious as ever, so you ask him directly. 

“We should get dinner,” you say, pausing by your car. Leon has walked you out to it, just like he always does after your coffee dates. “Somewhere romantic.”

You raise your eyebrows at him expectantly. He's quiet for a second, staring back. 

“I thought you liked coffee?” He asks, looking like he thinks he's seriously misjudged the situation. You just laugh, putting your hand on his arm.

“I do!” You assure him. “But I also like pasta and wine.”

Leon looks relieved. “Oh. Well, I do know a good Italian place!”

You beam. “Yeah? Is it nice?”

“Very,” he assures you. “Very hard to get into, but I can pull some strings.” He winks. “Perks of the job.”

You aren't sure if he's joking or not, but you like the idea of it, at least. 

“Exciting,” you giggle, leaning close to him. “Should we go this weekend?”

Leon's face falls. “I can't do this weekend,” he admits.

“That's okay!” You're quick to reassure him. “We can do next! Or the one after.”

“No, next weekend is perfect,” he says, looking relieved. “I'll have to make a reservation, but I'll call you, okay?”

You let out an excited squeal and throw your arms around Leon's neck, kissing him before you can think.

This is the first time you've kissed since— well, since you broke up the first time. You almost pull away, but Leon cups the back of your neck and kisses back.

He's a better kisser than he used to be, that's for sure, and the whole thing leaves you breathless and weak-kneed. 

He grins at your dazed expression, licking his lips and looking very pleased with himself.

“Next weekend, then?”

You reach up to wipe away a smear of your lipstick off the corner of his mouth. 

“Next weekend,” you agree.

Leon promises to pick you up at 7 PM on Friday night. The two of you text back and forth almost nonstop as the night approaches, exchanging phone calls whenever possible. You're so excited that you even pick out your outfit days in advance.

Then, one day, the communication from Leon just… stops.

It's a day before your date, so you try not to worry too much. Something probably came up. But you find yourself checking your phone almost obsessively. No reply.

You push down your worry and get yourself ready for the date. You choose your favorite set of lingerie to wear under your little black dress, just in case, and probably spend way too long on your makeup.

Nonetheless, you're ready a good hour before he's scheduled to pick you up. You wait nervously for an hour, pacing your hotel room, then snap a picture of yourself to send to him. No answer. By 7:20 PM you're furious with him. By 7:45, you're in tears.

At 8 PM, you're pissed AND crying and a knock sounds at your door. You tear it open, ready to give Leon a piece of your mind, but stop in your tracks. 

Leon looks like shit. He's wearing a rumpled suit and his hair is a mess. Deep shadows show under his eyes, a bruise is forming on the left side of his jaw, and his chin is covered in three day old stubble.

He thrusts a bouquet of flowers into your arms.

All your anger drains out of you, all at once, replaced with concern.

“What *happened*?!” You blurt. Leon flushes. 

“I'm sorry,” he says. His voice sounds hoarse, like he's been yelling for twelve hours straight. “It was a work thing.”

He scratches the back of his head and the movement raises his rumpled shirt, allowing you to see the ugly yellow-purple of a bruise on his hip. 

“A work thing?” You prompt.

He winces. “I can't… tell you.”

What the hell?

“What do you mean you can't tell me?”

“I mean I can't tell you!” He snaps, his eyes darkening for a second. “Okay?”

You can't help but flinch and Leon's shoulders slump when he catches it. “I'm sorry,” he whispers. “I just… can't.”

You wonder if he can't or won't… but you don't press it. 

“You want to come in?” You ask softly.

“I thought we had a dinner reservation?” He asked, glancing at his watch.

“We did,” you say. “But you're an hour late. We missed it.”

Leon, somehow, looks even more forlorn at those words. “I'm sorry,” he says again. “I was in a different timezone, I didn't reset my watch and—”

“Leon.” You interrupt the beginnings of a spiral with a firm voice. “It's fine.”

You step back from the door and wave him inside. “Come on. I want to put these flowers in water.”

Leon shuffles in after you. He stands there, in the tiny entryway, and looks around your hotel room, shoving his hands in his pockets. You don't really have a vase for the flowers, come to think of it. Fancy hotels like this come with all sorts of amenities, but vases are not one of them. You waver for a moment, before grabbing the complimentary ice bucket and filling it with water from the bathroom sink.

Leon watches silently as you arrange the flowers, before speaking up.

“I should have brought a vase, too,” he says. “Sorry. I didn't think—”

You smile at him. “Hey, don't worry. It seems like you have a lot on your mind.”

He cracks a wry smile. “You're telling me.”

With the tension leaking away, you lean forward and smell a rose.

“Are they still your favorite?” He asks.

“I'm sorry?”

Leon gestures toward the bouquet. “Pink roses. Are they still your favorite flower?”

Honestly, pink roses haven't been your favorite flower since college… but the fact that Leon remembered that they were immediately bumps them up to number one once more.

“Yeah,” you whisper. 

And Leon beams. 

You don’t notice him approach you until his hand smooths down your back. You turn to look up at him, taking in his tired eyes and apologetic expression. You wonder again what his job is, and then wonder if you really want to know. Maybe ignorance is bliss.

“I’m sorry for missing our date,” he says softly. “Let me make it up to you.”

“We could try again tomorrow,” you murmur, turning fully to face him. “Or next week, if that doesn’t work out.”

“Sure,” he replies, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head. “But I was thinking of doing something a little more… immediate.”

He bends to kiss you, tender and slow, and you let yourself lean into it. Leon always kisses you like you’re the most delicate, precious thing in existence, he touches you like he’s afraid you’ll break, and you know he means it. You know that you matter to him.

You’re breathing heavily when the two of you finally part. Leon pulls back slowly, his eyes searching your face, looking a little shy but also a little proud of himself. He licks his lips, glances past you at the bed, then meets your eyes again.

“Wanna move this over there?” he asks, gesturing toward it with his head. Your heart skips a beat with anticipation. 

“Sounds good,” you breathe.

That night, you fall asleep in Leon’s arms, well and truly satisfied in a way you haven’t been in a long time. He’s clearly more experienced and more confident than the boy you slept with in college, but he’s still him. Still adoring, still attentive, still a little shy. 

He pretty much lets you take the lead the whole night and while he doesn’t say it outright, you get the impression that he just wants to be taken care of. If you notice tears in his eyes at the end, you don’t comment on it and neither does he.

He drops off soon after you finish, lying on his back like a soldier. You watch him for a few minutes, admiring the curve of his jaw and the slope of his nose, the dimple in his chin and the moles on his neck. There’s a scar on his cheek that you didn’t notice before, a thin white line nearly hidden by his stubble. You wonder how he got it. Probably doing something heroic, knowing him. You fall asleep entertaining little fantasies of Leon being a hero and saving the day.

You're awoken by Leon stirring in the bed next to you. You don't worry too much. You're a light sleeper after all.

You puff your pillow and get comfy again. Behind you, Leon stirs again, a soft groan escaping him.

You roll over, a little concerned. He has his arm slung over his face, but you can see a frown on his lips. He's breathing heavily, but you don't want to wake him up if you don't have to. He looked so exhausted when he came here earlier. It's probably nothing. You close your eyes again, but another soft groan from Leon has you opening them again.

You push up on one elbow, a little frown on your face. He's probably dreaming about something, but you can't tell if it's good or bad. His arm drops off his face, his fingers balling in the sheets. 

“No…” He mumbles. “Please…”

A nightmare, then. You sit up fully and reach for him, but before you can touch him, Leon flings out his arm, inadvertently smacking your hand away, and cries, “Ashley, no!”

Ashley? Who the hell is that?

You shake your head. Now is not the time for that, not with Leon in the midst of a night terror.

You reach out again, grabbing his shoulder and giving him a harsh shake.

“Leon!”

He doesn't wake right away, his head tossing side to side and his face screwed up.

You try again.

“Leon! Wake up!”

Leon jerks upright and the world spins sideways, your back hitting the bed with a thump and all the air rushing out of you. A weight presses down on you, arms pinned above your head.

You glimpse Leon above you and faintly register that the force across your neck and shoulders is his forearm. He doesn't seem to see you, even though his blue eyes are wide with terror.

“Leon?” You croak out.

“Fuck,” he gasps, suddenly seeing you. “Shit. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

You're able to catch your breath again as Leon scrambles off you and through the ringing in your ears you hear him stumbling around the room. You sit up just as the bathroom door slams closed.

Behind it, you hear retching.

You don't know what to do. You sit shell-shocked in the bed, surrounded by rumpled blankets and pillows and stare at the thin strip of light shining from beneath the bathroom door. You rub your hand over your sore clavicle.

What on earth was that? Why would Leon react like that after being woken up from a nightmare? And who the hell is Ashley? It was like Leon didn't even see you when he woke up, like he was stuck somewhere else, living through something horrible. What has he gone through in these ten years you've been apart? Does it have anything to do with his beat up appearance earlier? With the scars you noticed on his body? Did this Ashley have something to do with it? 

Bzzzzzzzt-bzt-bzzzzzzzzzt-bzt-bzzzzzzzzt

You're torn out of your that's by Leon's cellphone, vibrating on the bedside table. Jesus Christ, who calls at— you check the alarm clock next to the bed— 4 AM?

You untangle yourself from the covers and pick up the phone. Should you answer it? Leon doesn't seem to be coming out anytime soon and it seems urgent enough that the caller is attempting to reach him in the middle of the night.

You lick your lips nervously and flip open the phone, raising it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Where's Leon?” The voice on the other end demands. It's female. “Who are you?”

You want to ask the same thing, but you're the one answering a phone that isn't yours. You introduce yourself and the woman on the other end blows out a sigh.

“Oh,” she says bluntly. She clearly knows who you are even if Leon has never mentioned her to you. “Well, can you give Leon the phone? It's urgent.

She doesn't have to sound so annoyed!

“Sure,” you say, sliding off the bed. “Who should I say is calling?”

“April.”

Not the mysterious Ashley, then. That makes you feel marginally better for some reason. 

You pad over to the bathroom and knock on the door.

“Leon? Your phone rang.”

“...Let it go to voicemail,” he mumbles hoarsely from the other side. Oops.

“I already picked up for you,” you reply sheepishly, feeling for all the world like you've made a massive blunder. “It's someone named April?”

“Goddammit,” he mumbles, and the door swings open. In the harsh fluorescent lights he looks like a fucking mess, far worse than he did earlier than night. You can clearly see the bruises, cuts, and scars on his naked torso. His hair is rumpled, his hairline beaded with sweat. He barely meets your eyes, just takes the phone ever so gently from your hand and raises it to his ear.

“Hey, April…” He says tiredly.

You can't hear what she says in reply but you don't want to leave Leon alone, either. He looks like he's about to fall apart for God's sake. You lean against the doorframe and study him. 

You can't stand the way he's hunched in on himself like he's trying to make himself look smaller than he is and the exhausted, defeated tone in his voice makes your heart ache.

“Okay,” he whispers into the phone. “Okay. I'll be there.”

You're pulled out of your contemplation as he snaps the cellphone shut, looking up into his eyes. 

“Is everything okay?”

He grunts noncommittally. “I gotta go.”

Go? At 4 AM? Where?!

“What?!”

Leon scoots past you cautiously, not even meeting your eyes.

“Work,” he mumbles.

You turn, staring at his back incredulously as he pulls on his pants and shirt. “What do you mean work?” You challenge.

“Something came up.”

He doesn't turn toward you so you're left staring at the stiff line of his shoulders as he buttons up his shirt. 

Some random woman calls him in the middle of the night and he's immediately running at her beck and call? Something like jealousy rears its ugly head.

“Who's April?” You ask, not liking the nasty tone in your voice. 

Leon doesn't react. “A friend,” he says vaguely, pulling on his suit jacket.

“A friend calling at 4 AM about work,” you say disbelievingly. “Right.”

That gets a reaction. Leon turns to face you fully and the defeated look on his face immediately tosses all your jealousy and anger out the window. He looks like a kicked puppy.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers. “I wish I didn't have to go.”

You cross the room and pull him into a hug, resting your head on his chest. Leon clings to you, nuzzling his face into your hair, and rocks you side to side. The two of you stand like that for a few minutes, then Leon lets out a long, exhausted sigh.

“I have to go,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your hairline. “I'll call you as soon as I can and I'll make it up to you, I promise. Anything you want, I'll do it for you.”

You tilt your head back to meet his eyes. “I want you to be careful.”

He nods. “I can do that.”

“And I want you to take me out on a proper date when you're back,” you add, smiling a little to show you're not too serious. But Leon nods determinedly. “Got it. One proper date, coming up. It'll be awesome.”

He cups your face in his hands and ducks his head to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

“See you soon,” he promises, then he's gone.

You watch him walk down the hall, away from you, and can't help but feel like he's walking out of your life, too.

Taglist: @hiya-itsamber

[holeodemony]

I know I've casually mentioned that I use a tape recorder in a previous post about how much TMA has effected my life but. I was not exaggerating.

Just yesterday night I was having a mental breakdown talking to myself about stuffs and then I went, oh shit, I gotta record this.

I fucking paused my disassociated panic attack to run across the house, sit down with my tape recorder, turn the recorder on, say that I was in a shit mental state, and then continue on with my breakdown.

I shit you not I just *paused* the breakdown in order to grab my tape recorder. It shouldn't be funny that no matter what I do I need my recorder, but it kinda is.

I mean, I don't go anywhere without my SONY microcassette-corder M-560V. I don't leave the house with it. I usually keep it with my phone. Hell, I've even left it in my bed because of the recordings I do in order to end the day.

I get anxious whenever I don't have my tape recorder on me. I used to feel that way with my mp3 player, despite the fact that my phone was always more efficent with music, but yeah. I need my tape recorder to *function.*

This is probably unhealthy.

I'm blaming The Magnus Archives.

And myself.

But mostly The Magnus Archives.