#i spent ages searching for all these. like wow these things take time. a good good good amount of time. jesus

[bizzren]

nobody asked, but 28 days later text post meme

[splatoonpolls]

SPLATOON OC TOURNEY ROUND 4 BATTLE 4

Talia Yareli by @gingergari vs Tami by @wyrm-in-a-closet

PROPAGANDA/BACKSTORY

TALIA

Talia (age 24 (~16 in splat1), pronouns he/her) is from Calamari County! Her family consists of her mother, her older sister Moselle (28, a firefighter) that she looks up to a lot, and her younger sister Ren (18). He originally moved to Inkopolis to make a living as a pro battler, which he did for a few years with his roommate turned girlfriend Peri, maining both Dynamos depending on the kits given. Then Grizzco opened for business, and it turned out that they paid pretty well all things considered, and that they were both *really* good at it. (They also thought it was fun for the most part) Since they were consistently hitting the upper ranks of Profreshional, when Grizzco expanded to the Splatlands the pair were invited to relocate as Eggsecutive VPs to help support the branch and to help train up some new recruits. That's how Victoria (Eggs) and Fiorello (Safety) ended up joining them :] Speaking of nicknames, Talia has the worst name memory in the world and has a lot of trouble remembering the names of people and occasionally objects, so he gives them a nickname she remembers a lot better. (Peri is a nickname! But sometimes Talia falls back on pet names until he remembers either her nickname or actual name) He is very worried that he comes across as rude for it (or anything in general) so tries to be as friendly as possible. He was the one that gave Safety the life preserver gear as a gift! Talia is a huge fan of Big Man (finds that he relates to him the most) and did cry when he lost the leader splatfest :( Also cried when he was homesick and tried to get her favorite dish, clam mochi, at a Splatlands restaurant which turned out as you would expect. His favorite splatband is Sashimori. Talia is friends with my Agent 3, but does not know the truth about Grizzco.

TAMI

An inkling born to ordinary parents who worked at Gone Fission power plant. However, a salmonid big run happened in the area, and because Grizzco didn't yet exist, it had to be abandoned, and Tami's parents were killed. Tami herself, who was also there, was badly injured and lost her right arm, was found by some salmonids, but because she was a young inkling the salmonids didn't know what she was and so instead of killing her took her home. She then spent almost her entire life growing up with the salmonids, and became a very skilled fighter, but also starting a band with a couple other salmonids. They make music that's like horrible to listen to and will overestimate you. Once she was 14, she joined the war on salmonids on the side of the salmonids. Over time Grizzco expands and poses a larger and larger threat to the salmonids, so Tami decides that she's going to go try and put a stop to it, because she's the only one who could make it to inkling civilation without being killed, although that doesn't change the fact she didn't know the language, culture, or anything. After spending several nights on the streets of splatsville, Tami is found by Tide, an octoling who's been living there for some time. Tide takes Tami under their wing, despite them knowing nothing about each other. Over the next few months Tide teachers Tami inkling language, has Tami participate in battles (where she fuckin rocks at it bc she's been literally trained for war), all while Tami searches for more info on Grizzco, but unfortunately nobody knows shit about it. Finally she happens across Cuttlefish and eventually falls into Alterna, where she has no idea what's going on until eventually wow Mr. Grizz is there. She fucking kills him and then just kinda leaves without really joining the squidbeak splatoon she just wanted to kill Mr grizz. Anyways then she and Tide probably go back to salmonid or something I haven't really figure this out. Sorry for the text wall

[tessenpai]

Chikawa Week Day 1: Flower

Reproduction of the Ranunculus Flower gifted to Amu-sensei by the KOT discord server for the Kono Oto Tomare! 10th anniversary.

I've spent a great deal of time thinking about what to do for Chikawa Week. I don't think my fanart is all that good and it takes me a chunk of time to make, and I can't write fanfics to save my life. Then it dawned on me that I don't have to do anything new at all. I just need to stick to my strengths. As it happens, I enjoy writing "essays". So for Chikawa Week, I will write one essay based on the prompt for the day!

The prompt for Day 1 is "Flower" and I couldn't think of anything better to get started. When you mention "Flower" when talking about "Kono Oto Tomare!", one cannot but think about the beautiful pink ranunculus Chika gifted to Satowa on the day of the Revitalization Concert.

In this essay, I would like to delve deeper into the symbolism and importance this flower has in Chika and Satowa's relationship.

For me, it all starts with Isaki, funnily enough. That week, Satowa had invited him to assist to the Revitalization Concert that would welcome her back into the Hozuki Clan. Chika, of course, was thrilled to go, but I'm afraid he was not aware of the etiquette involved in these kinds of events. Not too surprising, he is just a teenager, and it's not like he has ever had to go to an event where a certain dress code is needed. It's his first time, we have to cut him some slack!!

Thankfully, Isaki is there to help him out. We love an Aunt who knows her nephew has a big fat crush on the Hozuki Lady, and is willing to captain the Chikawa Ship for the day.

She first tells him he should dress adequately, and that under no circumstances should he present himself to her house empty-handed. Of course, Chika asks her what should he buy, then. And she suggests flowers. I find it endearing that Isaki is trying to educate Chika on chivalry, and in how a lady should be treated. Specially when you are someone important to her. And of course, she is being sneaky because we all know what a man gifting a woman his age (and not related to him) flowers means.

As awkward as Chika can be, he knows his Aunt speaks the truth, and he should trust her. That's why without more complaint, he stops by a flower shop before heading to the Hozuki Household.

At the flower shop, the Helmsman (or Helmswoman as it happens) of the Chikawa Ship for the day is waiting for him. The florist sees a doubtful teenager intensely looking at the flowers, and she understands she has an assignment to ace. And wow does she ace it.

I can only imagine that, in the beginning, Chika intended to buy flowers as a sort of "assignment". His aunt told him they were necessary and it was not like he was going to question that judgment, but he thought it was just a matter of picking whatever he first saw that looked okay, buying it, and going his merry way. And they are just flowers. They grow all over the place, how expensive can they be, right?

When he sees all the types of flowers and arrangements? Well, things just get complicated. Because what flowers should he buy then? Also, he is broke. Our helmswoman won't let that be an impediment, though. No, sir! She gently asks if he is searching for something, and Chika awkwardly replies "A bouquet". Worth noting, he stumbles over the word "bouquet", and it's so cute because you just know that's a word he hasn't used much, if at all, and he is already making an effort to get out of his comfort zone.

Now, the budget. As I said, Chika is broke. He is SO broke, he can't even buy a mini-bouquet. He has a measly 254 yens (equivalent to 1,70 USD) to his name.

This will never NOT be funny.

Chika's financial situation won't deter our Helmswoman. She will see this through!

She offers him the option of buying a single flower. One with his thoughts and emotions on it. And unknowingly, at that moment, she turns what was an "assignment", into so much more. Because Chika immediately relates it to "Treasuring each sound".

He understands that one single flower might just hold the power to tell Satowa what he thinks and feels on her Special Day. And is not something that he should think about superficially.

However, there is challenge in transmiting his thoughts and emotions with one single flower. Very similar to "Treasuring each sound". But also, different. He is not versed in the "Flower Language". He finds it easier to communicate with music than with words! Not to worry, our Helmswoman is there to stir him in the right direction.

She asks him "What sort of girl is she, this girl who isn't your girlfriend". That is not an easy question to answer. It demands honesty and vulnerability. If you really want to give her the perfect flower, you have to be transparent, you can't gloss over things or tell half truths. You only have one chance to get your message across.

For the first time, Chika puts into words how he sees her. She is powerful and strong, yet sometimes surprisingly weak. The store clerk is sort of confused by the contradiction, yet it makes perfect sense. And it is a testament to their relationship. When he first met her, she put up a front, acting strong, refusing to ask for help and struggling to open herself to him and the koto club. But behind that mask, was fear. Fear of being left behind, of her sound harming others. When the clerk asks "Which is it?", he replies "Mostly strong, definitely". To him, who has seen her face her fears, and come up the victor, she is more powerful and dazzling than when she was trying to act like she was strong. A woman who shines her brigthest when she performs. "When she performs, she is amazingly cool". And then he adds "Always very awkward".

That is what knowing someone really is like. They have so many colors and shades to them, that is so very difficult to make a uniform statement about who they are. They can be strong yet weak, cool yet awkward. Chika doesn't only like Satowa's brightest colors, he finds all of her shades and tones charming and worth noting. He also sneaks in her "Huge chest". He couldn't let us forget he is just a growing boy, with blood in his veins.

"Is she cute? Or beautiful?", asks our invested florist. Chika falls silent, ruminating over the question. But how could he possibly choose one? How could he simply pick one of her tones? Satowa is "Both", he replies quietly. And our Helmswoman understands in that moment that this flower is not only meant to be given to a performer, or some kind of unreachable idol, but to the girl this boy loves, wether he knows it or not. The girl he finds most charming, admirable, but also wishes to protect.

Gifting a ranunculus, in the language of flowers, means "I find you dazzingly charming". Then you add the meaning of the color. Pink signifies love, romance, and gentle feelings. I highly doubt she told him that, though. I imagine she simply prepared the most beautiful pink ranunculus she could find, and gave it to him with a smile, knowing she had found the perfect flower, for the girl who is perfect for that boy.

And we know Satowa received the feelings and emotions that Chika's gift carried. Because even if she received countless bouquetes that day, there was one single single flower that wasn't given to her out of obligation, one single flower that was given to her with honest feelings of happiness for her returning to her family... One single flower that was meant for her, given by a boy who loves every shade and color that makes her who she is.

And so, Satowa framed the flower and hung it in the lobby. Because before going out to face a new day, she will have the reminder that there is a boy who admires her and wants her to do well. And when she comes home, there will be comfort waiting for her.

Without knowing it, Chika gave her "home" within one flower.

[blazehedgehog]

Sir BlazeHedgehog, where is your nickname from?

Oh wow, somebody actually asked for once instead of me having to volunteer it.

This is probably at least the third time I've said this just on this blog alone, but since tumblr search is worthless, we'll take it from the top one more time, but I'll hide it behind a "read more" tag for those who would rather skip it.

And because I'm going to be hiding it behind a tag, I'm going to go all in and tell a story.

The short answer is I made it up.

I am from a time before the internet was everywhere, on everything. In the 5th or 6th grade, our computer lab teacher introduced us to the world wide web using the suite of Apple Macintoshes they had available.

And when I say "Macintosh" I mean the original. Black and white screens, Hypercard, the whole deal from 1984. Keeping in mind it was currently 1995.

About 25-30 of these little guys split in to two rows. In the middle of the classroom sat a lone Macintosh Performa. Good kids got to use the Performa.

The Performa was the only computer that was capable to render what we would begin to know as the modern internet. It had Netscape Navigator installed, which supported the somewhat-new technology of webpages with embedded images.

For the rest of us, we were introduced to the text-based internet. You would bring up a terminal application and have to type out commands to interface with the school's webserver in order to check things like email (using PINE). You browsed the internet using Lynx. There was no mouse, no clicking. You scrolled using the arrow keys and could highlight links with tab.

They taught us other terminal commands, like how to open a direct text chat with another student in the lab, some basic formatting and typing stuff, etc. It was slow, difficult to use, and the internet was a lot smaller back then. We had somewhat strict rules on what we could and could not do on these machines, but since they couldn't do much, it wasn't hard to enforce.

In high school, half of the lab was a mixture of older 5200 Performas and newer 6600 "Pizza Box" Performas, with the other half being more left over monochrome Macintoshes. They also had "the one really nice computer" but this one was a modern (by 1997 standards) Power Mac G3. New tech came newer rules: no installing games, no adult content (even soft stuff, like girls in bikinis), and no chat rooms.

We were teenagers, though. You tell us not to do something, and that immediately makes you want to do it. I remember catching some of the particularly geeky among us logging in and playing online MUDs (the precursor to MMOs), and others trying to get around the Foolproof Software locks to install games or look at porn.

(This is a newer photo of that same computer lab, and I'm unsurprised that, outside of kids being on more modern hardware, absolutely nothing about the setup of that room has changed.)

I wasn't really in my spiral of depression yet, so I used the computers like a good little boy and followed the rules.

Until the last few days of the semester before summer break. That's when everybody -- students, teachers -- collectively stop caring about keeping up proper appearances. I remember having big free periods and spending time in the computer lab. I was usually the only one in there. So, immediately, I began looking up chat rooms.

A few friends and I had gotten into deep trouble a few months earlier, because one wild night during a sleepover we called into a "party line", which was a service where you were hooked into what is now known as a "discord group chat." Except you didn't know who you were getting connected with. They were total strangers. That was part of the thrill. It was new and exciting. We happened to be lucky enough to get a group of girls who were near enough to our age (maybe a little older), and we spent hours talking with them via speakerphone.

The thing was, there was a precedent that doing that cost money. You were calling a 1-800 number, and there were service fees associated with that. Per-minute. So we racked up a bill of something like $70-$100+ that night. That was a big problem.

But internet chat was free. The allure was impossible to ignore. And with it being the last few days of school, who could stop me? At worst I'd be kicked out of the computer lab, but they weren't going to, like, expel me. Being in trouble was a fake idea.

I forget where I ended up the first day, it was some kind of general Yahoo chat or something, but I remember I was too shy to be myself. Being 13 or 14 at the time, I decided to roleplay as Tuxedo Mask from Sailor Moon. One of the only times I ever did anything like that. I was full-on "I send a rose to all the ladies @}---;----" and everything, it was awful.

On the final day, I started looking up Sonic fansites and ended up somewhere called "Ruby's Sonic Page." This was the homepage of Dawn Best, under the handle Ruby the Echidna. It was there she talked about a game I'd never heard of before -- Sonic Adventure -- and provided a link to the announcement trailer in glorious 160p MPEG-1 video. I was blown away. They were making new Sonic games again?

Provided was a link to discuss the game with other Sonic fans, and it lead to Missy's Sonic Chat, a Beseen Chat Room on a website called Xoom (one of the many Geocities clones). Beseen Chats weren't live chatrooms like we'd think of modern-day Discord, or even AIM or IRC. Beseen was much more comparable to Twitter, or Tumblr, in that it was a website where you could post messages and could refresh the feed to see what other people had posted. It was a bit of a hack, but it worked well enough.

The whole thing was broken down in to different frames (if you're too young to know what those are: imagine multiple separate embedded webpages, sectioned off to specific portions of the screen). So you'd have a frame on the left that was a userlist, where people had set names and even large image avatars for themselves. At the bottom you'd have a text entry field with two buttons at the end: Send and Refresh. And then taking up most of the screen real estate was the feed itself. Something sort of like this, I guess:

And a lot of people in this Beseen chat had made up their own, original characters. This was my first introduction to Sonic OCs. And Missy's chat was a veritable who's who extremely talented fanartists. Ruby, Barachan, T2, J. Axer, Rinacat, etc.

I wanted to fit in, so I felt like I needed to come up with "a character" of my own.

Literally the first name to jump to mind was "Blaze the Hedgehog." I didn't like it. It was too obvious. Surely there had to be other Blaze the Hedgehogs out there, right? And I wasn't even particularly attached to "flame" powers.

So I sat there for a few minutes, trying to think of something better. My mind went blank.

Admitting defeat, "Blaze the Hedgehog" it was.

The chat was rather dead, given it was still technically a school day, and once I went home that afternoon, that was the end of my access to the internet. The best we had at home was some sort of Hyundai thing -- amber monochrome monitor, no graphics rendering, no hard disk, basically just a glorified word processor.

That changed once my mom got her tax return a little while later. She invested in a 233mhz Packard Bell desktop computer with Windows 98 and a subscription to America Online.

When prompted to make my own AOL username, I decided to go with "Blazehgehg." BlazeHedgehog. The character I'd made up at school.There it was. For the first time, for real, it was set in stone. And from 1998 to 2023, I've never changed it. Other "Blaze the Hedgehog"s have come and gone, but I've been the constant.

Later that night, I found my way back to Missy's Sonic Chat, and I grabbed one of Axer's Sonic images, sloppily recoloring it in MSPaint. I printed it out for posterity and kept it in a folder with artwork I'd actually drawn.

Blue and green were my favorite colors. Sonic was blue, so Blaze was green. Instead of shoes, he had boots. He wore a leather vest with a black t-shirt on underneath that covered most of his body. And atop his head, a sprout of hair, colored like a flame.

Blaze's only real role as a "character" was in the first and only fanfiction I ever wrote for him; the story was a blend of Final Fantasy VII and an anime I was in love with at the time named "Green Legend Ran." It's better it was lost to time. Besides, I don't think it was ever finished.

Blaze would go through several revisions over the years. More immediately, The Matrix hit the next year, and Blaze was given a trenchcoat. Also, since I could like, actually draw, I decided to stop painting over other people's artwork and draw Blaze for myself.

Eventually, Blaze Hedgehog the character fell out of favor. I grew up. I never really used him for much more than a forum avatar anyway, and even then, I felt like people were judging me for having a Sonic OC. Especially a green hedgehog. There were a dime-a-dozen green hedgehog Sonic OCs floating around.

Once Sega introduced Blaze the Cat in 2005, that sort of became the final nail in the coffin. But by then, I'd been using "BlazeHedgehog" as an online username for seven years. I'd grown attached to it. I didn't want to change it. So... I didn't.

As I've gotten older and put some distance between myself and that time, I find myself a bit nostalgic for the character of Blaze the Hedgehog. I redesigned him a bit a few years ago to look more like a traditional Sega Sonic character, swapping in a bomber jacket and getting rid of the shirt.

And, of course, there was Sonic Forces. Options were limited there, but a brown leather jacket and the weird black bodysuit got closest. I was most surprised by the hairstyle options. While we don't get the classic yellow-to-red, we do get a green-to-red, which is good enough. And I really like these ring-strap boots.

That's about all there is to say, really. These days it's just a username for me, and I keep it so old friends can find me more easily. I'm pretty terrible at keeping up with some people, and I get the feeling I probably come off cold to others when that's never been my intention. But for those who want to keep tabs on me, they know where to find me.

[worstlovesong]

asks for distractions: what are your favourite lucy lyrics? (solo + boygenius inclusive!)

Thank youuu <3 I apologize in advance for anyone who thought I could be normal about this because I am simply Insane about Lucy’s writing <3

“We had a lot to measure / We had more past than pleasure / And time grows deep like weeds” - Dream state…

This song hits me hard post-bad-friendship but this lyric sticks with me. Realizing that even if there was a lot of memories built with someone, they may not be Good Ones. Realizing after the fact that perhaps the time spent together wasn’t as good as it once seemed. Time is always moving forward and now that you’re away from them, you’re left with a mind full of invasive weeds to pluck through in search of new growth.

“If beauty is the only way / To make the nightmares go away / I'll plant a garden in your brain / And let the roots absorb the pain” - Trust

This chorus makes me so !!!!! Like oh my god. It’s just beautiful, it’s a promise of a loved one wanting to ease your pain and soothe your fears in the gentlest way. It’s a promise to yourself, to find beauty in the world and hold onto it because then there’s a reason to keep going.

“Don't hold your breath, forget you ever saw me at my best / You don't deserve what you don't respect / Don't deserve what you say you love and then neglect” - Night Shift

This song in its entirety is just a fucking masterpiece. I love it so much and I struggle to express why. This part specifically gets across exactly what I want to say to someone who hurt me and it honestly helps me reframe my thoughts because No this person does not deserve me at my best or at all because they did not respect or love me like they said they did ‼️

“Believe me, I'm speaking plainly and painfully/Trying to stay elegant, eloquent and delicate to you” - Body to Flame

This one just scratches my brain tbh. This whole song is beautiful and just the very human concept of knowing someone so well and yet somehow not fully understanding them because we are all so unpredictable

“The future isn't worth its weight in gold / The future is a benevolent black hole” - Cartwheel

Not being ready to face the future, especially when it takes things and people away from you. Change is hard, change is scary, change is autism’s worst nightmare (and therefore mine). Yet she also implies that the future, while vast and unknown and forcing change, is not inherently evil. The future can bring good things, even if you’re not ready for it.

“I wanna run my fingers through you / You say nobody understands you like I do” - Partner in Crime

Once again this just makes my brain go ‼️

“You called me cerebral / I didn't know what you meant / But now I do, would it have killed you / To call me pretty instead?” -Brando

This line and I Don’t Wanna Be Funny Anymore hit me for the same reasons. Growing up being forced into the role of the funny one or the smart one but I was never pretty. It’s just that frustration with people who can’t even bother to give straightforward praise/compliments, calling you an old soul or wise for your age or cerebral. What does that even mean, when you’re 10 years old and just like to read books but they paint you as a scholar or you’re 15 and you’ve never had someone other than your grandmother tell you you’re beautiful. Like goddamn just let me be pretty for once.

“I'm staring at my hands / Red, ruddy skin, I don't understand / How did they betray me? What did I do?” - Triple Dog Dare

After I came out to my family at 15 years old I wasn’t allowed to see my friends outside of school for months. I internalized it, I mean I was still dealing with severe internalized homophobia from the church and I thought it must be My Fault. I remember apologizing to my friends, crying, because I wasn’t allowed to come over or hang out with them. As if it was my fault. I would spend hours regretting coming out, wondering what I did that was so wrong. This line just sits in my brain and wow Lucy Dacus is just like me fr

“I want you to tell me that you miss me / Want you to hold and hurt and kiss me / I wanna run away and live on your family's boat” - Triple Dog Dare

As you can tell by my pinned post I have Feelings about this verse. I’ve posted about this before but this song is the perfect example of young queer love and how adults interfere and see it as impure. This line specifically just highlights that need to be with that person, for them to hold you and kiss you and even if they’re hurting you at least it’s proof they’re there. The need to to run away with them because even if you’re missing at least you’re together in the end. God this song makes me fucking feral.

“But it feels good to be known so well / I can't hide from you like I hide from myself / I remember who I am when I'm with you / Your love is tough, your love is tried and true-blue” -True Blue

I’m really gay and I love my girlfriend <3

But also like this song just fucking hits oh my god. Being known and loved by someone in a way that is so genuine, so honest, so raw. The parts of yourself you are ashamed of they embrace openly. A dependable and honest love that makes you remember yourself, truly see yourself.

“I wanna live a vibrant life / But I wanna die a boring death”

AND

“Oh, it hurts to hope for more / Oh, it hurts to hope the future / Will be better than before” - Afraid of Heights

I remember after my first listen of this song I just sat there stunned, crying. This song is so dear to me and Lucy has my entire heart. I relate to the concept of a toxic friendship in which the person pushes your boundaries and shames you for them. Every word of this song resonates and I’m so tired so I don’t think I can do it justice but I truly have many thoughts on it.

The wish to just live a bright and exciting life but not die in a risky, stressful, painful way. The pain of the unknown, of the future, once again going back to the benevolent black hole. Just hoping that one day things will be better because it’s all you can hold on to but it hurts so much some days

This got so long 🫠 I recognize I have a problem and I just want y’all to know I love Lucy Dacus she’s everything to me <33

[tacittherapist]

Lalonde Live: Episode 2

Hello Paradox Space! I’m Rose Lalonde, and welcome to the second episode of Lalonde Live. On this show, we interview various Paradox Space denizens and ask them deep, provocative questions about various topics. By which I mean this is a convenient excuse to have people over and make conversation. Tonight’s guest: Jade Curie Harley! (@greensungnostic)

[There’s a raucous noise from a nearby band of salamanders and newts. They have no idea how to play the instruments they’ve been given.]

ROSE: How are you, Jade? How was the flight in? JADE: hi rose, miss radio lady! the flight in from across the ship went well, but boy are my arms tired!! heeheehee... ROSE: Haha, lovely as always, Miss Harley. So Jade, do you mind if I call you Jade? Jade, tell me, how long have you been voyaging on this magnificent ship here? JADE: jade is just fine! gosh, ummm... well, due to the nature of paradox space having some wobbly temporospatial elements, its hard to say exactly, but lets put it at... jeez, a bit over a decade! ROSE: Incredible, that takes some perseverance. Just how big is this ship, anyway? I'd wager smaller than a deluxe cruise liner, right? Perhaps a caravel class? Or a battleship? JADE: well, originally it was a carapacian-made battleship from prospit, though i actually upscaled it a good bit with my powers to make beautifying it easier and have more space to work with! ROSE: It does seem like something from a fantastical storybook -- not fantastic, mind you, fantastical. Now Jade, I've heard rumors that this ship's course has changed recently, is that true? JADE: i tried to give it a nice spacious fantastical feel where anyone can find a spot they find cozy :) JADE: oh! yes uhm, weve been searching for ages for the missing members of our session, so we can reunite with our friends, and it sounds like maybe we have finally found them...?? ROSE: Wow! That sounds like a reunion for the ages. Obviously I know -- you know -- both of us know -- we all know who those friends are, but could you list them for the folks back home? JADE: (rose, who exactly is our audience again here?) gosh uhm, theres a lot! our contact is with one karkat vantas, theres a strider who very well may be named dove, theres terezi pyrope and vriska serket, there... MIGHT? be a gamzee makara, and... uhm, theres kanaya maryam ROSE: An all-star cast! You must be excited to meet up with them, hm? JADE: of course! if i wasnt eager to see my friends again i would not have spent all this time looking for them all! ROSE: You know, after all this time it might be hard to remember some details so... mind regaling us with your fondest memory of each of them? JADE: gosh thats a long list of people, but i will try! where would you like me to start?? ROSE: Top to bottom's just fine. Karkat, D. Strider, Terezi, Vriska, (tentatively) Gamzee, and then Kanaya, please. JADE: hmm, well... karkat and i never got on the best, but it was always funny reading the crabby getting crabby and stumbling around over passwords while trying to avoid causal spoilers or temporal shenanigans! JADE: strider, we always used to goof around talking about the silliest things, and sometimes we would send each other music the other made to listen and remix them! but our whole base friend group did that, heheh JADE: terezi is a pest but i mean that affectionately! she liked to bug me and pick at me and the rest of us, but under all the menace i think she is good :) JADE: vriska is a butt who i am pretty sure caused me to have narcolepsy, but she could also he kind of cool sometimes! she didnt talk to me as much as others though... JADE: gamzee... uhm. can i pass on this one and just say that kanaya always seemed really nice and like i wanted to compare gardens with her and talk about space and art and things like that?? ROSE: Aha, that's quite a collection of memories! I can't speak for anyone else, but I'm sure excited to see what happens at this reunion. Maybe we'll get to see a bit of that famous Harley-Vantas bickering in the flesh? Now, are there any special considerations you've taken as you get closer and closer to their coordinates? JADE: well um... it sounds like they have been eating pretty poorly for a while and probably are super fed up with their current accommodations, so i made sure that plenty of food is ready for them, starting with simpler things to help them get used to proper stuff again, then more complex and nutritious things afterwards! also plenty of space to deck out for themselves, and... well, im ready to get either yelled at or hugged or whatever else as the case may be :x ROSE: A bit like waiting for your marks after a test, right? Aha, so. What's next for Jade Harley and her ship of dreams after the reunion? JADE: well, it will be a big step towards being able to work towards finally finishing sburb, though our journey is not over yet! there are still three people to collect at least, from our scratched counterpart timeline! and possibly a fourth! we have one at least, but we need the rest of our dancestors and some of their materials to be able to finish still! ROSE: Fascinating stuff. Who are those people, exactly? (For those of you at home, these are our counterparts made of a different combination of the same ectoslime that made us.) JADE: well we already have jane crocker! we revived her out of a dream bubble after things went south, but she would have to fill you in on the details! we are still missing dirk, who is doves sibling/parent/sibling/offspring, uhhh jake who is my kid grandpa and also my childhood penpal, and roxy who is your mom-daughter, love... im sure this wont get confusing! JADE: and i hear there is a chaaaance we might wind up picking up a cherub girl named callie? ive met versions of her, she is very nice :) ROSE: My my, care not to tease our poor audience back at home, dear! There are only so many names you can drop before this becomes a marketing ploy. ROSE: Now, this one might be a bit difficult, but: what has been your biggest challenge thus far? JADE: jeez thats.... a tough question, rose! uhm.... loneliness? worry that we might never find them, or that they didnt want to be found or wouldnt care anymore when we did or be mad that the original meeting didn't work right or that they were somehow just all gone.... ROSE: Wow... you heard it here first, my friends. Jade Curie Harley: part dog, part god... all human. Don't worry Jade, I know we'll be rooting for you, isn't that right Casey and the Crew?

[There's a mis-timed rimshot from the band.]

ROSE: Now, before we go, I have just one last question. Is there anything... you have to say to the folks at home and our lovely studio audience?

[She gestures to the rest of the living room, their assortment of Squiddles sitting on cushions facing them. There's a burp from the consorts nearby, and a random snare drum beat.]

JADE: uhhmm... lets see. remember to be kind to yourself and others, that there is always something worth fighting for, and most importantly.... awoooooooooooooooooooo!!! ROSE: Awwwoooooooooooooo!! Aha, thank you so much, Jade, for being here with us tonight. A big round of applause for her, everyone!

[rookie-critic]

When You Finish Saving the World (2022, dir. Jesse Eisenberg) - review by Rookie-Critic

When You Finish Saving the World was almost completely unbearable. The film follows a mother and son, played by Julianne Moore and Finn Wolfhard, as they struggle to understand one another (and Wolfhard's character Ziggy Katz frustratingly struggles to understand practically anything about the world around him) and connect in the way they used to when Ziggy was younger. It seems like a standard coming-of-age comedy-drama on the surface, but man, do all of these characters suck. I spent almost the entire film just sinking deeper and deeper into my theater chair until I thought I might just phase through it into the floor. It seems like every decision the central characters make is built around the idea of making you unbelievable uncomfortable. They are, in a lot of ways, horrible, self-serving people. When I saw it with a friend on Sunday, we were the only two people in the theater, and I think I said out loud, multiple times throughout the film, "Wow, I really hate this family." I will state that the characters are written this way almost assuredly on purpose, I don't think Eisenberg wants you to like the Katz family (the father included), they're all extremely flawed. I'm not opposed to unlikable protagonists in films, I thought Red Rocket was an extremely effective movie that had an absolute dirtbag as its central character, just to pull an example from last year. Granted, even that film I found a tough pill to swallow, and even though I really liked it I'll most likely never watch it again. Here, in When You Finish Saving the World, I don't get any kind of effective message. I'm sure that Eisenberg is trying to say something worthwhile about "white liberal" activism and the privilege that comes with being raised in a white, well-off environment, as well as the way that privilege plays into the exploitation of others to further selfish ends, but none of it really comes across for me. I see all these points and I don't have a problem with them being made, in pretty much all cases I agree with the points as written on paper, I just have absolutely nothing to latch on to emotionally. Nothing resonates with me at all because I could not care less about these characters. When the film ends the characters don't seem to have really changed at all (MINOR SPOILERS in the next sentence). Sure, they seem to have a renewed interest in each other's lives and a willingness to make a connection with one another again, but that doesn't show any kind of actual remorse or change in their ideology from all of the absolutely cringey and horrible things both of them have been doing the entire rest of the film. There's one scene involving Ziggy and a poem that his crush wrote that is almost too much. It comes out of absolutely nowhere and does nothing for the story except highlight just how completely out of touch Ziggy is and how appalling he is as a person. All of these things would be ok if the film actually portrayed them as the villains of the story, but it really seems like Eisenberg wants the audience to empathize with them by the time its all over, and I just can't understand how that's possible.

Sitting here, writing this review two days after having seen it. I'm genuinely rifling through my memories, searching for something good to say about it. I did take note of some pretty decent camerawork at a few spots in the film. Nothing that blew my socks off, just a couple of shots that caught my attention as being pretty good. Julianne Moore is, of course, a great actress and, given the material she had to work with, does a good job. Finn Wolfhard also showed a surprising amount of promise in his performance. I've been a fan of Wolfhard's, like most people, since he showed up in Stranger Things. While I do like him and think he's got talent, I feel like he's struggled to find roles as he gets older that play to his strengths, and even though I vehemently hate his character, his role in this movie does play to those strengths. I will also give it up to Alisha Boe, who plays Lila, a girl at Ziggy's high school that he has a crush on and is also one of maybe two likable characters in this movie. Maybe if the film had been about her and her struggles to deal with this completely inept teenage baby the movie might have been way better. Also, a quick aside, I feel like I've been harping on Wolfhard's character a lot in this review, but Julianne Moore's character Evelyn isn't any better. She basically spends the entirety of her portion of the film stalking a teenager.

I will acknowledge that, based on the reviews I've read, whether or not you like this movie hinges entirely on if you find the characters funny or grating, and a lot of people (my moviegoing companion included) leaned on the side of finding them funny. I'll admit to laughing at a decent chunk of the film, but it was really more a 50/50 split of genuine laughter and that anxious/nervous laughter that we all sometimes do just as a coping mechanism and a means of trying to diminish how uncomfortable we are. It's almost akin to laughing at Michael Scott in The Office doing something unbelievably awkward and upsetting, which is completely valid and, again, a lot of people really enjoy that kind of humor. After seeing When You Finish Saving the World, though, I can definitively say that it's just not for me.

Score: 4/10

Currently only in theaters.

[billconrad]

Self-Plugging

    My parents are getting older, so I downloaded a self-help book so I can help them and know what to expect. Unfortunately, the book was a dud. Instead of focusing on practical advice like low-impact exercise, a good diet, and working with doctors, the author presented a holistic approach. Before you get upset, this would have been fine if the book description or title had prepared the reader. “A holistic approach to old age.” However, neither was present, and the light content provided little helpful information.

    Forgiving an author for lackluster content is possible, but there was a more significant problem. The author spent two (out of eight) entire chapters on a book that was far too short, instructing (not asking) the reader to write a positive review. The first chapter described how vital reviews were to the author, gave tips on the review content, and discussed how to post the review. The second chapter repeated how critical reviews were to the authors’ success. I have never encountered such an arrogant request and found it to be outrageous and unprofessional. I hope this new form of promotion is not a new trend.

    I am a humble author who appreciates when a reader views my words; this is my positive review. You read my work? Thank you! The icing on the cake occurs when somebody takes the time to thank me. Wow, it feels great to be appreciated.

    Now, hold on. I self-plug my published books in my articles and use my plots as examples. Why? I want to be successful, and advertising is a significant part of sales. Yet, I would never demand something from my readers and do not have gushing self-plugs. I would rather be a failure than stoop to that level.

    Yet, my self-plugging seems hypocritical. I can complain about an author who went too far, but not myself. I suppose I must fall back on the title of a Cranberries song, “Everybody else is doing it, so why can’t we?” The difference is that I go far to ensure my humble plugs are tasteful and not in your face.

    There was something else amusing about this book. None of the reviews mentioned the review demand. I would have expected at least some anger; after all, it upset me. This lack of reaction made me wonder why I get so upset.

    Every day, commercials bombard us. Billboards, magazines, bumper stickers, radio commercials, banners, pop-ups, subliminal messages, and hidden text. Nearly every online video ends with “If you liked this content, please like and subscribe.” Likes have become the content currency.

    Readers and viewers have become accustomed to in-your-face advertisements and demands for many things. It is so much noise and wasted effort. We live in a modern world, and advertising will only get worse. I predict that artificial intelligence will soon bombard us with hyper-specific advertisements.

    Yet, a book is a flat, dull thing. They do not have exciting YouTube personalities with excellent graphics or pop-up windows with a great deal on socks. And that is the big reason we read them. “Today, I got under a warm blanket and read a lovely book.” What did it do? The book entertained and informed me. Great job, you wonderful author. But two self-plugging chapters? They crossed a thick line.

    You’re the best -Bill

    January 10, 2024

    Hey book lovers, I published four. Please check them out:

    Interviewing Immortality. A dramatic first-person psychological thriller that weaves a tale of intrigue, suspense, and self-confrontation.

    Pushed to the Edge of Survival. A drama, romance, and science fiction story about two unlikely people surviving a shipwreck and living with the consequences.

    Cable Ties. A slow-burn political thriller that reflects the realities of modern intelligence, law enforcement, department cooperation, and international politics.

    Saving Immortality. Continuing in the first-person psychological thriller genre, James Kimble searches for his former captor to answer his life’s questions.

    These books are available in soft-cover on Amazon and eBook format everywhere.

[messers-moony]

So Perfect | J.P

Paring: Young!James Potter X Fem!Lupin!Reader

Summary: James falls in love with a bookstore called, Lupin’s Library, and can’t believe what they’re going through. 

The bookstore was quiet most days. It was a tiny little two-story shop in London. The idea was it had a book for everyone. On the second story was a living quarter for the two siblings that worked at the shop. It was a small two-bedroom apartment, but it did what it was needed to do. 

Remus and Y/n Lupin were the owners of the shop. It was their eighteenth birthday gift from their parents. Growing up, their parents didn’t have much, so for them, it means a lot. The name of the shop was something simple - Lupin’s Library - but inside held memories that they would cherish forever. 

When they started the business, it was slow. Most days, no one would enter, and Y/n worked a separate job to help Remus pay the bills. But after a year it seemed that people preferred the shop over any other place in London. They enjoy the warmness of Remus’ smile and the radiant happiness from Y/n. 

Remus worked behind the counter at the register, and when there wasn’t a customer, he was reading on the stool he sat on. Y/n did inventory and stocked books. She didn’t like to sit still, preferring to be on her feet moving around. Sometimes early in the morning, she’d grab donuts to leave on the front counter for early customers. 

There was nothing like Lupin’s Library, and that’s why people loved it. 

The bell-ringing announced a new customer into the shop. It was a tiny ding, nothing majorly loud. Y/n was stocking books while Remus was sleeping upstairs in his room. Over the past winter, he had caught a nasty cold leaving Y/n to take over the bookstore until he got better while also trying to take care of him. 

“One moment, and I’ll be with you!” Y/n called as she slipped the last book into place. 

She skipped to make it behind the counter where she met a man about her age - twenty-five. He was taller than her, maybe just around six feet. His hair was messy and curled slightly at the ends. His eyes were a beautiful hazel, and he radiated a certain playfulness Y/n could get used to. 

“Mornin’ sir!” James was taken away by her light and fluffy accent, “What can I do for you today?”

He smiled, “Looking for something to read for my son.”

“How old is he?”

“He’s about to turn five.” James smiled proudly. 

“That’s adorable!” Y/n gushed, “Any way we have magic treehouse books, maybe he’d like those?” 

“Maybe, he’s been begging for new books.” James ran a hand through his hair, “It’s the only way I can get him to calm down.”

Y/n smiled, “You know, on Saturdays, I read to kids. If you want him to join us, he’s more than welcome. Saturdays, I read to kids five to nine. Sundays, I read to kids from ten to fifteen.”

“Wow,” James replied, “I’d love to take him in if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all!” She smiled, “Everyone’s welcome.”

James gave a grin in response as he searched the Library for these Magic Treehouse books. It took him five minutes before even finding the kids section, but when he did, James grabbed the set of them. He placed each book on top of another and brought them to the counter of the pretty girl. 

He watched at how gently and smoothly she moved the books to scan them. James was so focused he didn’t even notice her handing him the books and the receipt, “But I didn’t-“

“It’s on the house.” Y/n replied, “I’ll see you Saturday.”

James’ face flushed; he hadn’t felt this way since Lily, “I’ll- um- see you Saturday….”

He walked out of the shop with a happy smile placed on his face. James hadn’t felt flustered and nervous around a girl since Lily in seventh grade. He had been head over heels for her since then. They began dating in sophomore year and had Harry right out of high school. It was poor planning on their part, but Harry was everything James had dreamed of. It wasn’t until Harry’s second birthday when Lily said she couldn’t take it anymore. 

Not only had it broken James’ heart, but it broke Harry’s too. Harry had no idea where his momma had gone. What broke James’ heart the most was Lily saying she wanted absolutely nothing to do with either of them. Lily had placed the engagement ring on the wooden table, collected her things, and left, just like that. 

Then it was just them against the world. James and his little mini-me, as Sirius would say. Sirius was the one who recommended the bookshop. He wouldn’t shut up about how cute the boy behind the register was (“Oh James, his hair looks so fluffy!”). It was like hearing a broken record. James didn’t see the boy with fluffy hair, but he did see the girl with the radiant smile. 

That night James sat beside Harry in his twin bed. Harry was thrilled to see the new books on his shelf, and as James began reading, Harry became more hooked with each page. When James shut the book, Harry was devastated. He wanted to know more and finish the book! Alas, he had to go to sleep, and if he did, James promised him that they’d finish the book tomorrow. 

When James brought up going to Lupin’s Library on Saturdays, Harry was ecstatic! He couldn’t wait to meet the new kids and begin a new book. By the time Saturday rolled around, they had finished two of the Magic Treehouse books. James entered the shop with Harry in front of him, hands on the little boy's shoulders. Now at the counter, he saw the boy with fluffy hair. 

“Good afternoon, sir.” He greeted in the same soft accent, “Here for the kids reading circle?”

Harry nodded, and the boy chuckled, “Great. It’s just in that back corner.”

James thanked him before bringing Harry to the back corner, where kids were already sat on a rug. Blankets were spread among some of them, and the girl was sitting on a chair in the corner while the kids made a semi-circle around her. James beckoned Harry to sit, and James smiled at the girl in the chair. 

As the reading began, James decided to venture through the bookstore. The bookshelves were surprisingly clean and rid of any dust. The books were taken care of, not a crease or bent page unless he went into the used section. Some people preferred new books; some preferred used. There truly was a book for everyone in here. 

He made his way back to the front desk with some books he had gained from the shelves. A multitude of paperbacks and gently placed them on the counter. Remus put a bookmark in his book and began to scan each book just as smoothly as the girl. His hands didn’t seem as soft. They looked calloused and scarred. Sirius’ type, all the way. 

“You wouldn’t happen to see a boy with straight black hair in here sometimes?” Remus quirked an eyebrow, “Wears ripped jeans and a leather jacket?”

Remus smiled, “Yes, we get him in here quite frequently.”

“Do you mind if I got your number for him?” James questioned, “He’s talked the world of you and your bookstore.”

“It’s not just my bookstore.” Remus correctly playfully, “My sister works it with me, who I see you’ve been well acquainted with.”

James’ face flushed pink, “I didn’t- I don’t-“

“It’s fine.” Remus replied, handing him the books and the receipt, “She’s a big girl. I trust her to make her own decisions.”

“I didn’t pay for these.”

“You can thank my sister.” Remus winked as he sat on the stool and began reading. 

James grunted at not paying again. He rummaged through his wallet and placed forty pounds in the tip jar. Remus chuckled and shook his head at the gesture, appreciative nonetheless of the man's kindness. Another thirty minutes went by, and Harry was running back into his dad's arms. 

“That was awesome!” Harry exclaimed softly, “She was so nice! She gave us lollipops!”

“Did she?” James asked, and Harry nodded. 

Y/n smiled softly as she joined Remus behind the counter, grabbing some books to stamp while all the kids filed out to find their parents, “Looks like we’ll be back next Saturday.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Y/n replied, “I’ll look forward to it.”

Harry smiled, “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

James and Harry walked out of Lupin’s Library together with smiles on their faces. Harry wouldn’t stop jumping with joy the entire day. He couldn’t get over how lovely the lady was and how she gave him a lollipop. Truthfully, it was the little things when it came to kids. Remus chuckled as they left the library together. 

“He quite likes you, I’d say.”

“Little kids like anyone who give them candy.”

“I don’t mean the boy.” Remus replied, “I mean the adult who seems quite fond of you.”

Y/n hmphed, “And what about the man who wears the leather jacket and the straight black hair?”

Remus blushed, “‘Oh, Y/n, he’s so perfect.’” Y/n mocked.

“You’re annoying.” Remus nudged her with his elbow. 

“Love you too.” 

It wasn’t until Wednesday when he came back in again. Y/n had been absent from the shop due to having to help her friend bartend. Despite working at the bookshop full time, she still had a part-time job bartending. If she spent the whole day at the bar, then she spent the entire night at the bookstore. Working two jobs was no easy feat, but she did it. 

James walked in and wandered aimlessly after not seeing or hearing her. Remus smiled amusedly as he walked in and continued to read his book. James felt the spines of the books but never plucked one from the shelf. Remus got tired of his lost puppy look and finally called to him. 

“She’s not here, you know.”

“Oh,” James muttered, “Where- Where is she?”

Remus placed his book down after bending the corner of the page, “Helping a friend.”

“I’m sorry for wasting your time,” James replied nervously as he went to walk out the door. 

“Wait!” Remus called, and James turned, “I can- um- I can give you her schedule if you want.”

“Schedule?” James questioned, “She doesn’t work here full time?”

Remus shook his head, “No, she works part-time at a bar around the block. It helps-“ He scratched the back of his neck, “It helps pay the bills.”

“You guys don’t make enough to stay in business?” 

“No, we don’t.” Remus murmured, “I can't really do much else other than work here, so Y/n took up another job. Which she hates, and it drains her.” 

James was appalled. These people were so nice and kind. How weren’t they making enough to stay in business? Remus looked utterly embarrassed by the whole thing, confessing to a customer that they were struggling. James, himself, was a Nephrologists at a hospital not too far away. His family was small, and he made a lot of money. 

Without another word, James left the shop leaving Remus in a confused state. He walked to an ATM that was only a couple of blocks away before pulling out a decent amount of cash. James walked back into the bookstore and placed an envelope on the counter. Remus stared at it confused as he got on his own two feet to open it. As he peeled back the seal, he saw what was inside. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t-“

“Please.” James begged, “Harry would be devastated if his favorite place went out of business.”

Remus had tears in his eyes as he placed the money beneath the counter, “Thank you. You have no idea what this means. Our parents bought this shop with almost nothing, and we’ve been trying, but it’s so hard.”

“Well,” James began, “I don’t know if I could live with myself if this place was gone, especially after knowing you’re guys’ kindness.”

Remus smiled and grabbed a piece of paper with a calendar on it. At the bottom, he wrote his and Y/n’s names along with their phone numbers. His handwriting was tidy and curvy. Remus handed the piece of paper to him, and James took it gratefully. 

“It’s Y/n’s schedule along with her part-time bartending job. Our numbers are at the bottom.” Remus motioned to the calendar and at the numbers on the bottom. 

“Thank you, Remus.” James smiled as he pulled out a business card from his wallet, “Obviously, you don’t need me to be your doctor, but my number is on the card if either of you needs anything.”

Remus took the two cards gently, “Thank you, James. We really won’t forget this.”

“I’m glad.” James smiled, “Because I won’t forget you two.”

He left the bookstore with a skip in his step. It felt good to do that. James hadn’t felt this happy since Harry was born, but now he felt like himself again. He felt like that energized boy from middle school who was always destined to be great. 

James didn’t know what it was like to be poor. He grew up with his parents being doctors. They made decent money, and James always got what he wanted. They lived with the higher class. It made his heart ache that Remus and Y/n, who were so sweet we’re struggling. He couldn’t take it. He had to do something. It felt good to do that something. 

Around the block was a bar called Whiskey Woes. It was old and rugged-looking. The black stone bricks seemed to be cracking in every spot. It made James grimace. Walking inside was even worse. The pungent smell of older men with no taste for cologne made him scrunch his nose. But behind the counter, he saw an exhausted girl who was giving it her all to get tips. 

James made his way to sit on a barstool, and sluggishly Y/n made her way to him, “Good afternoon, sir! What can I getcha today?”

“A glass of water?” James replied, lifting his head, and Y/n let out a visible sigh of relief, “‘Course.”

A minute of running around the bar later, a glass of water was placed in front of him, “How’s work, Y/n?”

“How’d you find out my name?”

“Well, your name tag says it.” James pointed, “And I went by the bookstore today.”

Y/n hummed, “Remus tell you where I work, huh?”

“Yeah.” James replied, stirring his water with his straw, “And I want you to quit.”

“Excuse me?”

“I want you to quit working at this shithole.” James repeated, “And take this.”

Another envelope was passed to her across the bar. Y/n eyed him as she broke the glued seal on the white paper. Inside she saw cash, and it didn’t look like just a tiny amount either. Y/n’s face showed visible shock, and James smiled sheepishly. 

“Consider it a tip.”

“This is more than a tip.” Y/n chuckled, “This is like three of my yearly salaries.”

James’ smile faltered just a tiny bit, “You don’t belong here. You belong at the bookstore with Remus. You don’t seem happy here, and Remus sees it too. Says you come home exhausted and drained.”

“Is there anything I can do to repay you?” 

“Maybe go on a date with me?” 

Y/n blushed, “A date?”

“Yeah, a date.” James muttered. 

“I think you deserve a lot more than a date.” Y/n replied, and James smirked, “Only if you’ll let me.”

She laughed, and it made his stomach flutter. It was a sound he wanted to hear forever. It made his heart flip and the corners of his lips quirk. The way she tilted her head back and how her hair flowed as she did so—the crinkle of her nose and the creases of her eyes as she shut them tightly. 

She was so perfect. 

[rek1s-headband]

Oh oh! Can we get some hedcanons about cherry adopting a girl who is around miya's age. Like how close would they be and how would others feel about her being his daughter now. Bonus points if uncel Joe and little missy mess with daddy blossom

Xoxo love your work so far, keep it up💙

➯ A/N: This was such an amazing request, I had so much fun writing it! Hope you enjoy :)

Also, i started watching Your Lie in April today, and its AMAZING! So much more than what I was expecting

➯ With a daughter

➯ Characters: Kaoru Sakurayashiki with a young daughter. Reki, Langa and co. are mentioned throughout!

➯ Warnings: none:)

Having a child had never crossed Kaoru’s mind before, but when Joe had teased him about how “you treat Carla better than you would a child!”, the idea kind of stuck with him. And so, he’d spent countless nights awake, wondering to himself if it was something he truly wanted?

He’d pass parks, seeing parents with spewing babies and toddlers throwing tantrums, wondering if he could actually put up with that? But as he passed the shops, he came across a mother and her daughter, who looked around 12. He watched them pass, a grin on the child’s face as she looked into her shopping bag, examining her haul for that day. And so it was settled

He wanted a baby girl he could spoil absolutely rotten

And the search for a child carried on, and this time instead of baby shops and websites, he was browsing the shelves of Claires and other tween clothing stores. It had only occurred to him over a bottle of wine with Joe, as they were discussing if Kaoru was truly ready for something like this. Instead of a crying baby or a messy toddler, he could simply adopt someone a bit older!

It made sense too. For a single parent, an older child seemed much more doable. Of course, he wouldn’t be alone. Joe was always telling him how he’d help out, yknow, if he actually went through with the damn thing.

Not to mention, the older you get, the more difficult it is to get adopted. Babies and young children will get adopted left right and centre, whereas the child he will take home will have been there for a while. Finally, they will have a place to call a home

He spent months trying to get the approval for adoption, and one fateful day he finally got the letter that yes he could go ahead and take one home. He was ecstatic, spending the next few days finding out the location of every orphanage around his area of Japan. He messaged every single one, asking when their next visiting day was

And so it was set: Kaoru would not rest until he had found his perfect little girl

He went through orphanage after orphanage, searching for someone he could call his own. However, none of the children were lighting that paternal flame inside him. It wasn’t their fault of course, they just didn’t click with him, staring at him any time he tried to talk to them. Visit after visit, he’d go to Joe’s, ready to tell him about his recent fail.

It wasn’t until Joe came up to him with a phone number, asking if he’d been to this particular orphanage yet. Apparently they had a few children aged 12 and up, and were available for visit that Saturday. And so there he was, packing a bag and getting ready to travel to the house. This time felt different, somehow. He could feel his palms sweat, as if he could sense he would take one of them home

When he finally made it to the house, he was a nervous wreck. The lady of the house let him in with a smile, telling him the children were in the backyard playing while she bounced a baby on her hip. Cherry winced as the baby gurgled at him, glad he opted for an older child

She led him outside, gesturing at the children who were sprinting around in the vast field, hiding behind trees and bushes. It was clear they were playing a game of hide and seek. He smiled as he scanned over them, but it quickly disappeared when he noticed one little girl sitting on the step, head in her lap while her shoulders gently shook with tears

He walked over to her, bending down with a soft smile. He didn’t know where this sudden calmness came from, but that was his last priority right now. A little gash sat on the girls knee, caked with blood as it trickled down her shin. He frowned, pulling out a tissue to gently wipe it. She jumped, wincing with shock from the fresh wave of pain, and surprise. Kaoru gently wiped at her knee once more before looking up at her to attempt a conversation

“Hello, is your knee alright?” She shook her head frantically, wiping a tear away from her face. A small breathy laugh escaped him as he watched the child stand, gesturing to her leg

“Nope, not at all. I think its broken, if you ask me. All cause of that stupid thing!” She threw her arm out, gesturing to a pink board Kaoru hadn’t noticed before. A skateboard.

That’s when Kaoru realised it: I want this one

Suddenly he felt a new sense of importance, like he had to make a good impression. He walked over to the board, tutting as he looked down at it. “This is what hurt you?” He looked at it with disdain as the little girl nodded her head violently. Kaoru could see how she hurt herself, the thing was massive, especially for someone her age. It looked around the size of a board he would use.

Grinning, he picked up the board. “Well, want to see something cool?” She watched in wonder as kaoru stood on it, pushing off and turning quickly, popping an ollie over a stray toy. The little girl jumped, throwing her arms up as she cheered Kaoru on. He finished with a flourish, coming back to stand beside her. “What did you think?” She was speechless, simply moving her hands, saying scattered “wows” and making various sound effects. Kaoru smiled, certain that he could teach her more.

When he realized visiting time was coming to a close, he proposed the idea to the girl, who’s name he had come to know was Lily: he’d come back next week, and he’d bring his board. He even promised to find her a smaller boar perfect for her to learn on, saying he knew a friend who could make her one. From there he would teach her the basics of skateboarding, even a couple of tricks once she got that down. She was delighted, bouncing up and down and declaring she couldn’t wait, all the energy of someone much younger than her. Kaoru found he couldn’t stop smiling himself either

He made his way back through the house, Lily skipping alongside him. He explained the plan to the Lady, that he would come back next week for another visit. Just as he was about to leave, he turned to the lady to request one final thing from her

“Make sure no one snatches her up from me while I’m gone, yeah?”

Needless to say a bottle of wine was opened at Joe’s that night in celebration of Lily, the potential daughter

And so the weeks turned into months, and Kaoru returned each week with his board and some sweets for her and the other children, teaching her everything she needed to know about skateboarding. After a month or so she could confidently ollie without bailing, and next time he visited she displayed it with delight, watching Kaoru’s face light up with pride.

She had taken a real liking to Kaoru, according to the Lady. She refused to pay any other visitors any notice, declaring they “simply weren’t Kaoru.” This is what finally made him realise that maybe it was time to ask if she’d like to live with him from now on, where she could practice with him every day.

When he asked her, Kaoru could’ve sworn he actually saw stars in her eyes. She simply lit up, throwing herself at Kaoru, tears streaming down her face as she shouted yes, of course she would. she wasn’t the only one crying, Kaoru could barely see from the tears in his own eyes, the lady dabbing at hers with a tissue

Once the paperwork was complete and Lily was his, he felt a weight had been taken off his shoulders. He had packed her a new change of clothes the day he went to collect her, bringing Joe along with him for emotional support. Lily came flying at him the second he got out of his car, wrinkling her nose at Joe

“You never told me you had a boyfriend, Kaoru” she stuck her tongue out at him from over his shoulder while they both tried to convince her that no, they weren’t a couple, before she ran upstairs to get changed. Joe turned to Kaoru, an almost offended look on his face

“Why were you so adamant that we weren’t together??” “I dont need her worrying she’s going home to a Gorrila” “HEY”

Once they all got home, they threw a little party at Joe’s who had closed a little early specially for it. Kaoru didn’t let her out of his sight, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable with all the new people. Of course, it was only Joe, Shadow, Reki, Langa and Miya, all of whom she would meet eventually, but he still worried in case she got overwhelmed.

She made quick friends with Reki, who was ecstatic from the moment he realised she could skate. The two bonded over it, talking about tricks they’d learned, Reki shouting over at Kaoru because why hadn’t he taught him anything??

Miya was a bit standoffish at first, but when she saw the switch in his hand, the two were instantly bonding over who had better villagers in Animal Crossing, and who had passed more levels in Mario with three stars

As the months went on, Lily really settled into her new life in Okinawa, starting at school in Miyas class. The two were joined at the hip, Miya often coming home to Kaoru’s so they could practice together, or simply study and watch some movies. Reki constantly teased the shit out of the two, talking about how he heard “wedding bells”. This comment earned him a swift whack into the skull from Kaoru, warning him not to tease his little girl

Soon enough Kaoru was making her own skateboard with built-in Carla, who helped her skating improve insanely. As Kaoru said, she was definitely a chip off the old block. Langa and Reki would take her to the skate park with them, helping her land new tricks and would take videos of her to send to Kaoru

Shadow was like a chill uncle to her, bringing her flowers for her room and taking her out to get some clothes and ice cream. Joe was like an uncle too, but a much more untrustworthy one. Would he take her to the park, or would he take her to parts of downtown she definitely shouldn’t have been? Who knows, certainly not Kaoru...

Poor Kaoru can never get a minutes peace. Every second of the day she’s plotting something, waiting for him to let his guard down so she can pounce, scaring the shit out of him. When the others are around its 10x worse, all of them ganging up on him to pull pranks

As well as skateboarding, Kaoru tried to teach her how to do calligraphy. She ended up being awful, blotting the ink and smearing it with her hand. But hey, it was a fun art project that made it onto the fridge

At S, she was watched like a hawk. When Kaoru was competing,the others would be like her bodyguard, making sure no one got within 5 feet of her. She’d watch her dad with wonder, the look of awe never leaving her face since the first day she saw him skate. She can’t wait for the day she can compete, maybe even beating her own dad

The first time Lily called Kaoru “dad” was when he won a race, showing off some amazing skills and winning the insanely close match by a hair. He picked up his board, looking around for Lily. He saw her in the crowd, throwing her arms up and cheering “THATS MY DAD!! LOOK, RIGHT THERE, THATS MY DAD!” When she spotted him, a large grin spread across her face. “Nice job out there dad! You did amazing!! D’you think I can do that one day?”

Everyone was staring at her, she hadn’t even realised she had said anything out of the ordinary. Soon enough Kaoru was lunging at her, picking her up in a hug so she didn’t see the tears quickly forming on his face. With a smile he pulled away, his voice dripping with pride

“Of course you could. You’re my daughter, aren’t you?”

[lemonpeter]

🧡Day 1: Inc*st🧡

Really starting off strong huh lol anyway, this is very background heavy (I don’t know what happened but now I’m obsessed) and I hope y’all enjoy 🧡

Warnings: inc*st, nff, father/son (but they don’t know), Peter is 18 and an intern at SI, brief substance ab*se mention (and impaired s*x, not between starker)

***

Tony never wanted kids. The thought of someone depending on him in such a way made him feel sick. So he always did all that he could to ensure nothing would happen.

There was always room for accident, though.

***

Tony never wanted kids. The thought of someone depending on him in such a way made him feel sick. So he always did all that he could to ensure nothing would happen.

He never had sex without multiple levels of protection. And he was famous enough that people rarely tried to argue against it. Sleeping with him at all fulfilled what they wanted.

So things were perfectly fine. He never had an issue, he was always completely safe with his partners.

Except for this one night.

He was in a self-destructive episode, in the downward spiral before he hit rock bottom. Mixed every possible substance that shouldn’t have been mixed, impairing him until he wasn’t sure which way was up.

And he had a woman spiraling right along with him.

Her name was…Mary. Mary something. She was a scientist in some field, but he didn’t catch anything else. Or he just didn’t remember it. It didn’t matter anyways, they were both just wanting to ignore what was around them. What their lives had served them.

And maybe he forgot to ask if she was on birth control when he sloppily kissed over her neck.

Maybe he fumbled with the condom to the point where she whispered, “We’ll be fine,” and he believed her.

How it happened didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it did.

Tony didn’t even know.

He didn’t ask for her number the next morning, he just hid out in the bathroom, emptying his stomach of its entire contents while he waited for her to leave.

She was gone by the time he could see straight.

Thank god.

He never heard from her again.

Mary Parker and her husband died six years later and he never knew.

He didn’t know that they had a son. Or she did, at least. There was no way for him to know that the son had been passed along to his aunt and uncle when no other relative was found.

He never knew that Mary Parker had a son. And that her husband wasn’t the one who got her pregnant.

She never crossed his mind again after she left him.

***

Enter Peter.

Tony had new interns come in every year, typically college students that needed the credits, but sometimes someone special would come along.

Peter was a high school senior, but he was one of the smartest people that Tony had ever come across.

Tony had a job lined up for him as soon as he graduated if he wanted it. Not that he’d told him that yet.

He swore that he wasn’t a stalker. He had to prove to Pepper that he wasn’t giving too much attention to one intern over another, and for him that meant that he needed to stay away from Peter personally.

No matter how tempting it was. There had to be a family history of such genius, right? That kind of brains didn’t just occur at random.

But he didn’t look into him at all. He wouldn’t even let himself google search his name.

Oh, but he wanted to. He wanted to know everything there was to know about Peter Parker.

Although maybe he could just do it the old fashioned way. Minimal favoritism involved.

He spent months working with Peter. They became friends. Close friends.

It got to the point where Tony couldn’t help the smile he had when he looked into those warm brown eyes.

He felt it happen, it was official. Peter Parker had his heart.

It didn’t matter how wrong it was, he couldn’t help it. The young man had completely gotten hold of him.

And he hoped that it was mutual.

***

“Peter, can you stay back for a second?” Tony was still standing at the lab table, eyes scanning over the coding that they’d put in place during the session.

Like that was actually what was on his mind.

The young man looked up with wide eyes. Very deer-in-headlights. But it was so cute on him.

“Y-yeah! I actually needed to tell you something, so yes, I can definitely do that.”

Peter sounded a bit nervous which made Tony pause. Maybe his confession could wait a while. Maybe forever. Whatever was on Peter’s mind was infinitely more important to him.

“Okay, you first. I can follow up.” Tony tucked his hands into his pockets, leaning back against the table.

His cheeks burned. “No- no, you can go first. Don’t worry.”

The older man let out a breath. “Peter, you say what you need to. I can wait.”

Peter looked at him, face flushed. He hadn’t really meant to blurt out that he had something to say. He’d thought about it, sure. But he didn’t know-

His brain couldn’t keep up with his body and suddenly he was leaning up, pressing his lips to Tony’s.

The older man froze. It wasn’t what he’d expected at all. But then he relaxed into it, kissing back.

Who knew that they both had the same confession?

But it wasn’t supposed to be happening.

Tony pulled away once he finally got control of his senses again, raking a hand through his hair. “Pete, I’m supposed to be the adult here. I can’t be a good role model if I’m….”

When was he ever a good role model?

“Let me start again. I’m an adult. Kid, I’m old. Old enough to be your dad. And you’re…how old?”

“I turned eighteen in august,” he supplied helpfully.

At least it was legal.

“Eighteen. That’s a thirty year age difference.” Jesus, he was creepy. Falling for an eighteen year old. He couldn’t even buy alcohol for himself.

Peter blinked up at him. “So? I like you, Mr. Stark. I don’t care how old you are.”

Tony sighed softly. “You’re gonna be the death of me. And it’s Tony. If this is what’s happening, call me Tony.”

Even though it had been his plan to confess his feelings anyway, the guilt was still eating at him. He had fallen for a teenager who was just barely legal.

“What is happening, Mr.- Tony?”

Tony leaned in for another kiss, sighing softly. “What do you want to happen, kid?”

“Oh. Well, um, not to be blunt, but- I just- I mean- I really want you.”

He was cute. Innocent. But Tony could tell that what he meant was a bit less innocent.

“Are you sure? You realize this is a bad idea on...a lot of levels, right?”

Peter huffed softly, looking up at him with a stubborn expression. “I don’t care. We can be sneaky.”

Tony snorted. ‘Sneaky’ wasn’t really how he’d describe it, but he had to remind himself that his terms were a lot different than Peter’s. Different generations and all that.

He was horrible.

“Okay, kid. We can take this upstairs-” where there was no one to walk in on them. “-and talk about what exactly you’re thinking.”

“How about we don’t talk about it and we just...do?” Peter gave him a shy, devious smile.

“Uh huh. We’ll see.”

Tony grabbed his wrist gently, glancing in the hallway to make sure that no one was coming before he dragged him to the elevator.

Before he could get another word out, Peter’s lips were on his again. And this time there was more heat behind it.

He kissed back, eyes slipping shut just as the elevator doors did. Their lips pushed together insistently and he felt Peter’s tongue clumsily swiping over his lip.

He suppressed a laugh and parted his lips, allowing Peter to lead.

It was all so curious and clumsy that he wondered just how many times Peter had ever kissed anyone. If any. But that was a question for later.

The elevator dinged softly when they reached the penthouse and only then did they pull away from each other.

Tony led Peter out, instantly heading for his bedroom. Bad idea or no, he’d imagined such a scenario so many times. He didn’t want to waste any time.

“Tony?” Peter spoke up, eyes on the bed. “I know this is really straightforward, but I’m glad you, like, don’t hate me. I’ve thought about this...a lot.”

“You and me both,” the older man murmured. “Something I feel like we should cover before anything else...how far are you wanting to go?”

Peter chewed his lip. “Not to rush things, but I really really want to go all the way.”

“Well, not to rush things, but I want that too.” Tony gave him a small grin. “Do you have a preference?”

“Hmm?”

The confused look that he got made him feel guilty again. Just how much had Peter ever done with anyone else?

“Top or bottom, honey. Receiving or giving, pitching or catching, whatever you want to say. What do you want to do?”

Peter blushed, deciding to distract from the question at hand by pulling his shirt off.

It worked. Tony’s attention was instantly elsewhere, his eyes focused on his trim waist but hard muscle.

“Jesus, kid. That’s...wow.” If he wasn’t hard before, he was definitely getting there from seeing just what his innocent little intern was hiding under loose clothing.

“Like it?” The young man grinned to himself, one hand sensually sliding from the v of his hips up to his chest.

Perfect abs. Round, firm pecs. Jesus, Tony was entranced.

But he remembered what he’d asked. “Peter, top or bottom. What’s your preference?”

“I- I don’t...know.”

There it was.

Tony looked at him, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip quickly. “You’re a virgin.” It wasn’t a question. He knew it for sure. It wasn’t surprising.

Peter got defensive. “I’ve done some stuff.”

“Uh huh. What ‘stuff’?”

He refused to look at Tony, his eyes on his hands as he played with the button on his jeans. “I’ve given oral. Guys and girls. And I’ve gotten, like, a couple handjobs and blowjobs.”

Tony closed his eyes. “I shouldn’t be your first. This- Peter, this is such a bad idea. You should be with someone your own age.”

Peter made an indignant sound, popping the button on his jeans and unzipping them out of protest. “I don’t want someone my own age. I want you.”

He said it with such finality.

Tony stepped closer to the bed, his hands cupping Peter’s face gently. “You promise me you won’t regret this?”

“There’s nothing that could make me regret this.” Peter unbuckled Tony’s belt, slowly pulling it out of the loops before dropping it to the floor.

Tony nodded slowly, not fighting when Peter pushed his slacks down. It was really happening.

“Holy shit-” Peter’s eyes were wide. His eyes were fixed on the way that Tony’s dick was straining at the front of his tight boxers. There was a nervous look in his eyes.

“Good or bad?” Tony teased a little.

“Good. Good, oh man.” Peter reached down and squeezed himself hard. “So big….”

That was nice to hear. “You think so? Do you think you could take it, sweetheart?”

Peter’s fingers ghosted over the length slowly, making it twitch in its confines. “I...I want to try.”

Tony nodded. “We’ll make it fit. Let’s finish getting you undressed.” He pulled his own shirt off and tossed it to the floor before getting onto the bed next to Peter.

He finished pulling the young man’s zipper down and helped him shimmy out of his jeans. Peter’s thighs were gorgeous, Tony was nearly drooling over them. But he couldn’t get distracted.

“May I?” He met the young man’s eyes, his fingers slipping into the waistband of his boxers.

Peter nodded, breathing hard as he laid back more.

Tony slowly pulled the piece of clothing down, biting his lip when he watched Peter’s cock drop against his hip once it was no longer covered. “So hard for me, honey. Look at that.”

The younger man blushed darker. “I’ve wanted this for a long time, Tony….”

“God, me too. Me too, kid.” He pushed his own boxers off, unable to keep himself from wrapping one hand around himself and stroking slowly.

Peter watched him with wide eyes. “Okay. I want you inside me. Now.” He kicked his boxers away, grinning a little.

Tony laughed softly at his eagerness. “We have to get you ready first. Hold on, let me show you….”

Turns out that Peter was incredibly responsive to everything and by the time he was open enough for further activities Tony had already worked him through an orgasm.

If Peter was that responsive to just his fingers, he couldn’t wait to get his cock in him. And the young man was still raring to go.

Tony grabbed a condom - habit, it wasn’t like they were preventing anything - but Peter stopped him.

“Why can't we just do it…without?” He asked shyly.

“I mean…we can. But you’ll have to clean up and that can be annoying.”

“I want…I want to feel you. Is that okay?” Peter hid his face in his hands, embarrassed by the admission.

Tony nodded, biting back a smile. “Yeah. That’s okay.” He set the foil square down on the nightstand before moving back to the young man.

He got between his legs, hands sliding over the strong thighs he was met with. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, kid. I hope you know that.”

Peter smiled up at him, spreading his legs further. “Thank you, Tony….” He leaned back more, laying his head down. “Now hurry up,” he joked.

Grabbing the lube and slicking himself up, the older man shook his head. “Impatient,” Tony chided, laughing softly. But he was already moving to position his cock at the man’s hole, the tip brushing over him.

They both moaned softly, laughing a little at how in sync they were.

“Fuck me, Tony…please?”

The older man nodded, slowly pushing past the tight muscle with a groan. Even though he’d prepped him, Peter was still tight. Just perfectly so.

Peter was tightly gripping the sheets, popping a couple threads even, with the first movements.

It seemed like his effort was in vain, but he really wanted to try to last.

Tony bottomed out, hips pressed flush against Peter’s ass.

The younger man was whining low in his throat at the feeling. His cock twitched between them. He knew that if he was touched at all before he could calm down a little, everything would be over way before he wanted it to be.

“Need me to stay still?” Tony asked. He could tell that Peter was struggling.

He nodded quickly, squeezing his eyes shut. “Yes. Fuck.”

“Okay, honey. Don’t worry, we can take this at whatever pace you want.”

Peter nodded, trying to get a hold on how he was feeling.

It took him a couple minutes, but eventually he signaled Tony that he was okay. And he could start moving.

So he started slow, but Tony started thrusting when he was given the okay.

Peter moaned, mouth falling open around his noises.

He tightened around Tony’s cock, squeezing down with every movement. Then he cried out when a particularly deep thrust hit something that made him see stars.

“What was that?” Peter gasped, hips rocking up wildly.

Tony groaned, laughing a little through it. “I’m going to, fuck, I’m going to assume that was your prostate. Feels good, doesn’t it? I should have showed that to you when I was fingering you.”

“Do it again!”

The older man snorted, aiming for the same spot again as he picked up his pace. He held one of Peter’s legs, lifting it just enough so that he could get at a deeper angle. “I can try.”

From the increasingly louder noises he received, he assumed he succeeded.

He was so lost in the feeling of Peter that he missed how close to the edge his partner was getting. All that registered was how incredible (borderline painful) it felt when the younger man squeezed around him like that.

Then Peter was crying out louder and thrusting up as he spilled onto his stomach.

Tony swore under his breath. “God, Peter.” He watched him, subconsciously speeding up as he chased his own high.

“Tony!” Peter moaned, eyes squeezed shut as he rode out his high. It was the best orgasm he’d ever experienced, alone or otherwise.

But he slowly opened his eyes, wanting to watch Tony cum.

“I’m close too,” the older man moaned, speeding up again.

Peter moaned louder, feeling himself being pushed up the bed with the quicker pace. “Cum, Tony, please, want you to fill me up.”

He wasn’t so sure about dirty talk, but it could only be but so bad because Tony went still moments later. Peter felt the cock inside him pulse briefly before there was a smooth warmth spreading.

The thing itself felt odd, but thinking about what was happening almost made him cum again.

Actually-

His hand flew to his own dick and he quickly jerked himself off before he was cumming for a third time. It wasn’t nearly as good as the other two, but it was still incredible. Especially thinking about how good Tony still felt inside of him.

He opened his eyes when he heard Tony chuckling. “What?”

“You’re insatiable. And I’m amazed that you can just go again that fast.” The older man closed his eyes again, catching his breath.

He was almost in shock that it had actually happened. He had sex with Peter. After thinking about it for months, dreaming about it, it happened.

He slowly pulled out, laying next to the young man. He knew they were both messes, covered in sweat and cum and lube, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to hold Peter close before they had to go back to real life.

Tony gently wrapped his arms around him, just gathering him close while he pressed a kiss to the man’s temple.

He found out quickly that Peter’s dazed, relaxed post-sex state would only last for so long.

It was only minutes before the man was talking, whispering about anything and everything. And Tony happily listened.

He hummed softly, holding the younger man close to his chest. One hand gently carded through Peter’s soft curls as they talked quietly.

“My mom met you one time,” Peter murmured. “Before I was born. But she would never tell me about it. Just told me that it happened.”

Tony snorted softly. “Yeah, well, about when would that have been? I had a reputation for a reason.” But the confession started pulling at a memory. It couldn’t quite come to light, though.

“Ew.” The young man grinned at him. “But I guess you’re right. I don’t know, she was kinda weird about a lot of stuff. Not just that.”

“What do you mean?”

Peter sighed softly and Tony frowned. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. But Peter started answering anyway.

“I don’t know who my actual dad is. She never told me. I vaguely remember her telling me that Richard was the only dad I needed, but nothing else.”

“You would have been so young,” Tony whispered. “Maybe she just figured it could be a conversation for another time.”

“But she wouldn’t tell anyone else. My aunt and uncle knew that Richard wasn’t actually my dad, but they were never told who was. And I guess it just…died with her.”

The older man nodded. “You could always do a paternity test, right?” Why was guilt pooling in his stomach?

Peter shrugged. “That’s assuming that my dad has done one too that we could match. And sometimes….” He trailed off.

“Sometimes what?” Tony kissed him gently, trying to soothe him.

“Sometimes I’m not sure that I want to know,” he confessed.

It made sense. But something was still trying to pull at Tony’s memory. Forming an idea slowly.

Although he wasn’t sure that he wanted to know the answers.

But he couldn’t just leave a question unasked. No matter how dark the potential answer.

“Peter…when did you say that your mom met me?”

The young man snuggled into him more, shaking his head. “I didn’t. I think it was…the year before I was born or so. Why? Do you remember?”

Tony tried to mentally do the numbers. He’d spent most of that year in a fog, but that had been the theme of that era in his life. But maybe…

“Are you okay?”

The older man closed his eyes, frowning as he tried to remember.

Parker. Had he been with a Parker? He couldn’t remember the occasion at all.

Maybe that was for the best.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m okay, was just trying to see if I remembered her. I’m sorry.”

Peter leaned up to kiss him gently, shaking his head. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not a big deal, really. Sometimes I just wonder about that stuff.”

Tony tried to assure himself that it wasn’t a big deal.

Maybe it was best to not have all the answers.

He had what he wanted. That was all that mattered.

[majestyeverlasting]

Can you write prompt(s) 40 & 48 with Dad!Bucky x reader pls?

♡ Of course! Thanks for sending this request in! For the kids, I went ahead and used Jamie and Eden, who are in my Dad!Bucky x Mom!Reader fics. There's cute and funny family ~shenanigans~ in this piece (and Eden ends up duping Bucky). I hope you like it!

♡ Prompt 40: "There it is. There's that smile."

♡ Prompt 48: "Those are my pajama pants. They're literally slipping down your waist."

♡ To make a request for my One Month Tumblr-versary, check out my Fluffy Prompt List :)

No Such Thing as Winning By Default Tonight

The way Jamie and Eden greeted Bucky at the door always gave him something to look forward to, to cherish. They were bouncing on the balls of their feet as if it had been ages since they last saw him. In reality, it had only been a span of hours since he’d left that morning. And with sparkling eyes, they waited for him to take off his backpack and shrug off the leather jacket. You’d spent the day out with them, and they were ready to tell their father about everything. From checking out new books at the library, going to the park, and even getting snow cones.

As soon as Bucky finished putting his things in the closet, he scooped Eden up and kissed her cheek. And he pulled Jamie into a hug after giving him a fist bump—the gesture was something the boy insisted they started doing everyday because it was ‘cool.’ It was important not to forget the explosion fingers right after, because that’s what made fist bumps even cooler.

The kids talked a mile a minute as they told Bucky about their day—as if their lives depended on it. Hundreds of people had told him hundreds of things over the years and, yet, listening to their words—and yours—added a value to his life that he hadn't, or couldn’t find anywhere else in the world. A smile stretched across your face when he entered the living room with Jamie and Eden on either side of him. You were sitting on the couch with the laundry basket on the floor in front of you. Folding clothes that, admittedly, should’ve already been taken care of.

Bucky shot you a wink when your eyes met his, and you felt the smallest flutter in your stomach. After spending the day with children, you were glad to have some adult company again. It helped that he was particularly attractive in his unshaven state. “Hey, stranger,” you teased, affectionately. “How was your day?”

“Not too bad,” he said, draping his arms over the kids’ shoulders. “From what these two were telling me, it sounds like you guys went around the world while I was gone.”

That earned a laugh from you. “It feels like we did. I’m not moving for the next week.”

Jamie snorted. “But don’t you have to move? You can’t just stay still,” he said. “You’re moving right now to fold the clothes.”

You gave him a flat look, narrowing your eyes. Everyone else laughed. “Well, in that case, mister, how about you three come do it for me so I don’t have to move?” Your tone was playful.

“Uhhh... Dad can do it. I forgot how to fold,” he lied.

“‘Dad can do it?’” Bucky repeated, looking down at him in feigned disagreement. If you truly needed a break, or wanted any sort of additional help, he’d step in a heartbeat—he always did.

“Wait, I’m actually pretty good at it,” Eden spoke up, leaving her father’s side to plop beside you. “Do you want me to help, Mommy?” Without waiting for an answer, she picked out one of her shirts from the basket.

It was then that Jamie decided he was going to assist too. Instead of joining the two of you on the couch, however, he sat crossed-legged on the floor, and dug to the bottom of the basket in search of his favorite race car graphic tee. The way their brows furrowed in concentration was adorable. And because they were no longer glued to Bucky, he was able to lean down and press a kiss to your temple, hands bracing on the plush arm of the couch. Before he could pull too far away, you cupped his chin and directed his lips to yours in a brief kiss, sighing through your nose. You felt him smile upon hearing the kids’ quiet giggles.

Eden’s voice soon arose. “Hey, Mommy, look. Is this good enough?” Bucky pulled away and straightened back to his full height, clearing his throat and running a hand through his hair.

On Eden’s lap was a white shirt printed with pink flowers that she had folded. “It looks great, E. Put it on the stack of your other stuff.” You pointed to the clothes of hers that you had already folded.

What you ended up finding later that evening was that one of the kids had accidentally placed Bucky’s navy blue pajama pants in your sleepwear drawer. Considering he was off in the playroom with them, you decided to put them on to go get a reaction out of him. You paired them with a gray V-neck.

When you walked in on him and the kids, they were winning in what appeared to be a play fight. They hovered over him as his back was against the floor. A helpless smile budded on your face as you stood watching in the doorway. He tried to prop himself up upon noticing you, but Jamie growled and pushed chest back down.

“Do you surrender?” He asked his father.

A laugh bubbled up Bucky’s throat. “Yes, I surrender.”

“I don’t believe him,” Eden told Jamie.

“I do! I promise,” Bucky said. “I just wanna talk to your mom.”

They let him sit up, and you caught the way his gaze traveled up your body. “Hey… those are my pajama pants,” he said, pushing himself from the floor to go stand in front of you. “They’re literally slipping down your waist.” To prove his point, he attempted to pull them up to a more proper resting place on your hips. But they slouched back down a bit when he let go.

“No they’re not," you challenged with a smile. "They’re mine."

“Oh, is that right?” He let his hands come to rest on your hips, and in turn you wrapped your arms around his neck, gazing into his eyes. “They look good on you,” he said, voice low. And before you could register his intentions, he reached around you to squeeze your backside.

Bucky chuckled at your small squeak and dipped down for a kiss. He was gentle, and warm, and smelled woodsy. When he started to pull away, you thought it was way too soon. But, a second later, you realized it was because Jamie had started tugging on the back of his shirt.

You stifled a laugh at the way he rolled his eyes before turning around. “May I help you?” He asked the boy.

“Can we do one more round?” Jamie asked. “But this time you have to go harder on us.”

Eden came to stand beside her brother’s side. “Yeah! And Mommy can be on a team with me and Jamie,” she said.

Bucky looked back at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You up for that?”

You wrinkled your nose. “Maybe I should just watch. These pants probably make me wardrobe malfunction prone.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “You’ll be fine.”

That assurance is what landed you in a four-person play fight. Per Jamie’s request, Bucky does exert a little more effort. But he was still overly mindful that nobody got hurt in any other way. For the first few moments, you drew back and let Jamie and Eden make most of the advances on their father. They practically cackled every time he pinned them.

But he eventually locked eyes with you, and you knew he wasn't going to let you remain in the background of the action anymore. All you could do was squeal when he made a very direct advancement. Because you were already kneeling, it didn’t take much for him to force you the rest of the way to the floor. It happened so swiftly that all you could do was let out a surprised huff of laughter. Somehow he managed to capture both of your wrist.

“He’s got Mommy!” You heard Eden say. Then she came to your rescue by pushing his shoulder to divert his attention.

In the sliver of time before Bucky walked on his knees to get the girl, Jamie did a discrete signal to her that she nodded to. All it was was a quick swipe of his pointer finger down his cheek. And between you and Bucky, only you caught their quick exchange. It took a second for it to click that he had told her to fake cry. Or pretend to be hurt, at least.

As soon as Bucky gathered Eden into his arms, and lowered her to the floor in the most gentle 'slam' ever, she enacted their scheme. From her lying position, she winced and released a soft whine. There was no possible way that what he did could've caused any pain, but Bucky didn't even rationalize that. The only thing that rang in his mind was that he'd just hurt his little girl.

“Shoot! I’m sorry, babydoll.” He repositioned to sit in a narrow straddle, and coaxed her up to sit on his thigh. The tenderness of his voice made you want to tell him that she was fine. "What hurts, hmm?" She just continued pouting. Jamie put a hand over his mouth to hide either a smile or shock that it actually worked.

Bucky sighed as his eyes flickered over to you. All you could do was offer an expression that was likely a mix between neutral and guilty. Then he redirected his attention back to Eden and started pressing consoling kisses to her hair. When he noticed her beginning to smile, relief flooded through him. “There it is. There’s that smile,” he said. "I really am sorry, sunshine. Didn't mean to hurt you."

She craned her neck to look up at him. "Daddy..." she said, voice tentative. "I was just kidding..."

Jamie was quick to pitch in. "I only told her to so we could win by default or something. At least she's actually okay, right?" The hopeful edge to his tone made you bite back a smile. "Mom was in on it too." Snitch.

Bucky's mouth fell slightly agape, but he let out a small laugh a second later, shaking his head. "Wow," he breathed. "'Win by default,' huh? Give me a heart attack to 'win by default.'" In all fairness, it had been a somewhat mean trick. But nothing he couldn't recover from.

"I didn't even know if you were gonna believe me!" Eden claimed. She squealed when he suddenly laid onto his back, taking her with him. The sound of their mixed laughter filled the room, and the energetic buzz returned to the atmosphere.

Then Bucky made a proposal to your team. "You guys are gonna have to come save little miss from my arms if you wanna win for real," he said. "No such thing as winning by default tonight."

-

Previously fulfilled request: Cold Little Paws.

[luvluvnitrodynamite]

jealous jujutsu kaisen characters <3

ft. itadori yuuji, gojou satoru g/n!reader (sfw, with some suggestive themes in gojou)

itadori yuuji - watching itadori get jealous is a bit cute, if you're being honest. i mean, take what happened in the grocery store yesterday. ~ "yuuji, we're out of rice," you say to him, re-checking your list. "we're out of rice??? impossible. i just had some yesterday." you sigh. "be that as it may, that doesn't change the fact that we don't have it anymore. can you grab it really fast?" he pouts a bit. you're not sure if he genuinely doesn't want to leave your side or if he's just stalling to remember where the rice aisle is. regardless, you don't want to stand here all day. "yuuji, i'll give you a kiss as a reward if you get it for me." he perks up immediately, giving you a grin and a thumbs up before dashing in the opposite direction. you smile to yourself. itadori may have been an idiot, but he's your idiot. the thought warms your heart. you push your cart of the produce section and into a large selection of rows, choosing one closest to you. you seem to be in the tea aisle. oh good, you think. we've been out of tea for a couple of days now. you peruse the section, picking up some green tea. you get some chamomile as well, stacking the boxes carefully so they won't get crushed by fruits. mmm what about chai? you search the boxes, only to see it's at the very top self. you reach up, fingers just barely touching the platform it's on. you can't even brush up against the box. you try standing on tiptoes, looking a bit silly as you try to extend your body beyond its natural length. you're thinking maybe you should wait for itadori to get back when a different hand easily plucks the box off the shelf. you follow the hand to its owner, to see it belongs to a tall guy about your age. he's cute you suppose, but it's no itadori. still, you smile sweetly and charm him with a "thank you! there was no way I was going to reach that." He smiles broadly back at you. "No problem," he replies. "You like chai tea?" You want to be polite and he's nice enough, so you respond "definitely! I don't know if it's my favorite, but it's a staple in my pantry." He blushes a bit, and scratches his hand behind his neck. "Yeah, same," he says. "There's actually a really nice café that opened up a few blocks away from here. They make a mean cup of chai, and they have these delicious little cinnamon rolls that go really well with them. If you're free any time soon, do you want to try one with me?" You open your mouth to politely turn him down when you feel a protective arm wrap around your waist. You turn your head to see a pink-cheeked itadori glaring at the stranger. he does look mad, but you also think he just looks so cute. ah, the duality of man. "oh, hi yuuji! did you get the rice?," you ask him. you have priorities, after all. "yeah," he says, not moving his arm or his gaze. "who's this, love?" oh, he's really jealous if he's pulling out the love. you try to defuse the situation. "oh, this guy just helped me get some tea from the top shelf. thanks again!" you say. the guy was not expecting a wild itadori to emerge from the tall grass, and is trying to figure a way out. "no problem," he repeats. "i'll see you around, yeah?" without waiting for a response, he puts the tea in your cart and walks away. "did you know that guy?" you ask, as itadori relaxes and puts the rice in the cart. "no, but it sure looks like you did," he says, a bit annoyed. "yuuji, are you jealous?" you tease. "no! of course not!" he retorts. his cheeks are still pink though, and now he's looking around like he expecting another guy to run through and sweep you up in their arms. you decide to take mercy on him, and tug one of his hands in your own. "hey, don't i owe you a reward for getting my rice?" he perks up, and flicks his gaze almost imperceptibly towards your mouth. you sweetly press his lips to his cheek, and smile innocently when he gives you an annoyed look. you turn around to go the cart, only to see that the tea guy has returned. itadori sees him too, and he looks mad again. however, instead of confronting him, he looks at you and says,

"c'mon, i meant a real kiss." he gently places his hands on your face and pulls you in. it's a light, yet passionate kiss. the rhythm is slow and soft, but there's a definite intensity behind it. his tongue has just swiped your bottom lip, entering your mouth when you remember that you're in public. you pull away and glance at the end of the aisle. the guy is gone. you glance at itadori. he is grinning triumphantly at you. you smile in spite of yourself, going back over to the cart. "yuuji?" he comes over, wrapping his arms around you and placing his head over your shoulder. "yes, my love?" "you got the wrong kind of rice." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ gojou satoru - a jealous gojou is not a good gojou. if you think he's annoying normally, it's about to get so, so, so much worse. ~ "satoru please!" you beg. you're feeling desperate now, there's no other way out. you two have gone to the park for a picnic to savor one of his rare days off. the spot you chose was warm and sunny with few people around; the day was supposed to be lovely. and it was, at least for a while. you had spent just the last hour cloud-watching, peacefully pointing out odd shapes in the sky. really though, you were just taking an excuse to lay on his stomach and talk. you two get so little time together like this that you try to savor every moment. however, in your analysis of a banana-shaped cloud far on the horizon, you noticed a familiar shape. the shape of your ex, to be precise. you stiffen, and gojou notices. "hey," he says. "what's wrong?" you don't respond immediately; your mind is swirling with schemes to avoid them. if you guys packed up now, could you go without being noticed? no, you were too close. could you hide? no, there wasn't anywhere to duck behind. you had to stop time somehow, but how? gojou waves his hand over your face. "hey? everything ok down there? have you gone into the void?" he asks. you start to glare at him, but then his words hit you in the face. the void. he can draw your ex into the void while you make a hasty getaway. you sit up, dropping your angry look and switching to a more saccharine one. "satoru," you start. "can you do a favor for me?" he gives you an easy smile. "of course, anything for you," he replies. "great, can you trap the person in the white shirt over there into the infinite void?" that certainly gets his attention. "i'm sorry, what?" he asks incredulously. "ok, so that's my ex over there. things ended kind of...awkwardly, and I just don't want to deal with this right now. could you trap them into the void before they notice me?" "i don't think the relationship was the thing that was awkward love. maybe you should just, you know, face the problem head on?" he suggests. "it can't be that bad. and even if it is, at least it'll be entertaining. actually, i'll give you two some privacy!" he says cheerfully, and promptly leaves. that brings you to your current predicament. you could be responsible and mature, but that would involve getting over your breakup. you may have slightly understated the awkwardness of the situation. truthfully, you got dumped and you pined over your ex for weeks afterward. you especially did not take it when when you were being broken up with. you begged them not to leave you while crying, making quite the scene in the restaurant they had chosen. now, with no lingering emotions, you just feel guilty and embarrassed for how you acted. but that was in the past, and you could move past that as long as it wasn't walking up to you. and now with gojou walking away, and them walking up...oh no. oh no oh no ohnonono. you take a deep breath in, and breathe out. i'm not the same person i was then, you think to yourself. this thought steadies your nerves; in fact, maybe gojou was right. you have been wondering what they’ve been up to, after all, and you might stop feeling guilty if you apologize. a bright and cheerful “hey!!” jolts you out of your thoughts; there they are. “hey,” you respond, a bit less cheerfully. you push yourself up off the ground to

greet them, and are a bit surprised when they pull you into a hug. it’s a more intimate hug than you would have guessed, with their hands snaking around your waist and gently cradling your head. they smell...nice, you think to yourself. as you pull away, you feel watched. you’re not sure from where, since you can’t see him, but you know gojou is watching you. well, good. he refused to help you out of this mess, so maybe you’ll make him suffer a bit. neither one of you say anything for a second.. “so….i guess how are you?” they ask you, smiling. “i’m great,” you reply. “how are you?” you ask. “good.” you stand there, neither one of you wanting to interrupt the delicate silence. “so,” you both say at the same time. you guys laugh, and just like that, the weird silence dissipates. “you go first,” they say to you. “well, i just want to say that i’m sorry. i know breaking up was probably hard for you, but i think i just made it harder by, you know, being unable to let us go. that was unfair to you and it definitely made things harder for me, so i’m really sorry about that.” “oh, wow,” your ex say, a bit surprised. “well, that sort of contrasts what i’m about to say. i was going to say that you were right.” huh? what? you furrow your eyebrows together, and stare back with a bemused expression. “i was right?” you venture. “about...what?” your ex sheepishly scratches the back of their head, giving you an embarrassed smile. “about us, i mean. you kept telling me that we were better together, and that we would only be unhappy apart. i know it’s been a while since we were together, but lately it’s all i can think about. i….still think i love you.” well, that was a bombshell. you just stare at them, stunned into silence. “sorry, i know that this is way too much for just meeting again; you just looked so beautiful and it reminded me of when we were together and i just miss being together and -- ah, i’m rambling like a crazy person now, aren’t i?” they wryly ask. you giggle. “just a bit,” you respond. they take your hands into theirs, tracing their thumb lightly over your skin. their eyes are honest, and their face is hopeful. “i know this is really sudden, but would you maybe want to get dinner with me soon? you don’t have to, of course, but…?” they pull one hand out, and drift it up to your face, caressing your jawline with such care that if you were not previously engaged, you might have melted into their arms right there. but you already had a boyfriend, even if he was an annoying one. you thought briefly about pretending to accept their offer, just to needle him, but decided against it. instead, you just kindly smiled at your ex, and pull their hand from your face. “this is really sweet,” you say. “but, unfortunately, i’m already taken.” their face falls, but they quickly mask it with a smile. “ah, i get it. someone as amazing as you would get snapped up fast. it was just my mistake to let you go,” they say, pulling back. “well, why don’t we start over with this. how about instead of a romantic dinner date, we just get coffee sometime. no love attached,” they add. “sure,” you respond. “i have been wanting to know what you’ve been up to.” “same here, how about tomorrow at 11?” they ask. “it’s a date!” you joke. “now, what’s a date?” you hear a familiar, slightly pouty voice from behind you. of course. why wouldn’t gojou appear at the worst possible time. you turn to your boyfriend, who has a shit-eating grin on his face. he’s planning something, but what? “hey ‘toru, this is my ex." you face your ex. "this is my boyfriend, gojou satoru." your ex smiles at him, blissfully unaware. "nice to meet you. we were just planning on getting some coffee soon." “oh, is that so? you’re not trying to steal my love away from me, are you?” there’s no threat in his voice, no hostility, but all the same your ex seems to pick up on his vexing energy and straightens up a little bit. “no, of course not,” they say. “hmmm, i believe you. but all the same, i could have sworn i heard talk of

a date. that reminds me love, weren’t we just finishing up on a date ourselves?” you sigh. “yes, we were.” turning to your ex, you turn back to say goodbye. that, however, is cut off by your lovely boyfriend picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of flour. shocked, you pound your fists against his back. “gojou satoru, put me down right now.” gojou ignores you, instead sticking one hand out to shake your ex’s hand. “sorry to cut this short, but we simply must finish our date back at our place. wish i could invite you, but this is a more private activity.” he cheerfully states. mortified, you start kicking him and hitting him even harder. “ ‘toru! put me down so i can dump you right here and now!” “ahh, can’t have that now. we’d best get going so that someone learns a lesson, see you around!” with that and a quick sweep down to gather the picnic supplies, gojou carries you kicking and screaming out of the park. once outside, he puts you down. “satoru, what the absolute hell was that??? that was so embarrassing!” you cry out. “it was your idea to let me deal with that, and then you swoop in once it’s all taken care of? now they’re going to think i’m...i’m... i don’t even know what they’ll think of me, but i’m sure it won’t be positive!” “shhhh,” says gojou. “you might make a scene.” if you were mad before, well, now you’re apoplectic. “a scene???? i might make a scene?” you spit out seethingly. the entire way home, you tear into him for embarrassing you in front of your ex and an entire park full of people. finally, you get home and you drop the j-word. “and all this because you were just jealous??” now that you’ve dropped the threshold of your front door and pulled the trigger, gojou’s entire demeanor shifts. he drops the picnic supplies and picks you up again, but instead of going over his shoulder you’re now up against the wall. you instinctively wrap your arms and legs around him to keep from falling, skillfully intertwining your bodies together. his blindfold has slipped off, and now his piercing blue eyes are pouring into yours with a powerful intensity. your previous angry words slip off into the void, as you’re transfixed by the way he’s staring at you. he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses just barely touching. “yeah,” he breathes. “i got jealous. i let an ex come up to you and try to take you away, and i only sat there and watched. i knew you would never cheat on me, but i just got annoyed with myself for encouraging that. you mean too much to me to just let you be taken by someone else, so i really wanted to get you out of there as fast as possible. so, yeah, i’m sorry for embarrassing you. let me make it up to you?” it’s hard to say no in this position, but you try to hold your resolve. “satoru, you just can’t do that. promise me you’ll never do that again?” he’s still looking at you with that seriousness, so he replies “yes” with uncharacteristic sincerity. there’s nothing out of character though about the way he moves in to kiss you though, full of desire and need. you fall into a steady rhythm, a sweet push-and-pull of dominance flicking between you two. gojou suddenly takes over, and just as suddenly, he pulls away and starts carrying you to the nearest flat surface. “let me show you how much you mean to me, yeah?”

[homoose]

Weird is Good

Summary: A story about two people tryna make it through the age of COVID-19 in a country where people are fucking dumb lmao. My hc is that Spencer would be like wtf at all these science-denying anti-maskers. Also, two teachers just tryna make it through quarantine and remote teaching in a one bedroom apartment (this is taking place during a mandatory leave/lecture cycle).

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: no warnings. reader is both a kindergarten teacher and a bruh girl with a pirate’s mouth. lots of Spencer x factz.

Word count: 3.1k

———

“We’re home for the next two weeks. ”

Spencer looked up from his desk to see Y/N kicking off her shoes, dropping her bag, and walking directly to the sink. “Starting when?”

“We get to go in on Monday to say goodbye to the kids and get any materials we might need. Then we’re home for two weeks. They’re calling it an early, extended spring break.” Y/N began her hand washing routine. As a kindergarten teacher, she’d always been a strict hand-washer. In the time of COVID, she had only become more zealous. She looked at Spencer. “Have you heard anything?”

“Since we’re so close to the end of the semester, the department head thinks they’ll try to finish out the year as normal.” He set down his pen. “I honestly don’t know. It will all depend on whether people follow the CDC guidelines. The spread of any virus is deducible mathematically, and SARS-COV2 is no different. Based on the outbreak in Italy prior to their lockdown, we can accurately describe its reproductive number, or Rt, to between 2.43 – 3.10.”

Y/N shut off the water and dried her hands on a paper towel. “In layman's terms, Dr. Reid.”

“The Rt tells how many people are infected by the contagious host,” he explained. “In the case of this strain, each infected person is infecting between two and three others. For comparison, the standard seasonal flu has an average Rt between 1.4 and 1.7.”

“So in other words, fucking yikes,” Y/N groaned. She moved to perch on the edge of Spencer’s desk.

“Indeed,” Spencer agreed. “We know how fast the flu can travel through an office or a classroom, so imagine if it was two times as transmissible. But it's also really important to understand that this number changes depending on the mitigations in place. Even prior to full lockdown, mask wearing and social distancing was somewhat common in Italy, so it’s likely the uncontrolled Rt is higher.”

“Jesus Christ.” Y/N scrubbed a hand over her face. “We’ll probably never go back.”

Spencer rubbed his hand up from her ankle to the inside of her knee. “The good news is there’s nothing special about this virus compared to others in terms of how it spreads— it’s just aerosols. So if everyone wears their mask, we’ll be able to keep the spread low.”

⧭⧭⧭

“It’s safe to say that everyone did not wear their fucking masks,” Y/N snapped. She watched from the couch as Mayor Bowser delivered the news that DC Public Schools would remain closed for the remainder of the year. “This is crazy. I mean, I knew it was coming because people in this country are absolute buffoons.” She looked at Spencer, fingers pressed to her temple. “But holy shit, are we ever going to be able to go outside again?”

“With schools and universities closed, people working remotely, and lockdown orders in place, the Rt in the US could stay low. But masks have to be worn at all times, and social distancing has to be strictly followed.” Spencer pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I just— I can’t believe people are refusing to wear masks. The empirical, peer-reviewed data clearly shows—”

“This is ‘Murica, boy.” Y/N mocked. “Ain’t no tyrannical government gonna tell me what to do!” She rolled her eyes. “Trust me, your choice to abstain from social media is paying dividends to your sanity right now.”

Spencer looked truly dumbfounded, setting his newspaper down in his lap. “But that’s just it. It’s not just in social media circles.” He gestured to the article in front of him. “This economist just argued for ‘reopening’ the economy using the justification of herd immunity. Herd immunity can be a plausible option for less lethal diseases. But this virus is not like varicella—the chickenpox,” he clarified at Y/N’s raised eyebrow. He waved his hands around in exasperation. “Putting aside the fact that one facet of herd immunity is vaccinating as many people as possible, its success completely hinges on the Rt of a disease. If you model a population based on an Rt of 2.5, herd immunity wouldn’t be achieved until approximately sixty percent of the population has been infected. Consider that the US population is currently 328 million, and sixty percent of that is 196.8 million. The current mortality rate for SARS-COV2 is 3.06 percent. 196,800,000 multiplied by 0.0306 is 6,022,080. Over six million people would die. It's simple mathematics.”

Y/N let out an exasperated breath. “It used to be that simple math and facts were enough. Now you’ve got basement scientists who think they know better than actual, literal scientists who’ve spent their entire lives studying these things.” She ran a hand over her face and gestured at the news conference still playing. “How long do you think it’ll be before we’re both trying to teach from this tiny ass living room?”

⧭⧭⧭

“Goooooooood morning, kindergarten! It’s Friday, and no Friday is a bad Friday!” Spencer smiled. As he poured his first cup of coffee, he hummed along with Y/N and 23 six-year-olds as they sang their morning song. Observing fourteen days of remote kindergarten from across the living room had given Spencer a new appreciation for elementary school teachers, particularly Y/N. She sang, danced, conducted science experiments, held puppet shows, read stories, led art projects, and fielded questions for four hours a day— three hours less than when they were in the school building. He was exhausted by proxy.

But he was also grateful for the opportunity to watch Y/N in her element. Even though they were at home, she still got dressed every day in bright, patterned sweaters and dresses— her Ms. Frizzle attire, she’d told him once. She was able to channel her personality into a kid-friendly version that her students clearly adored, never afraid to be silly or strange to get their attention and keep them engaged during the long days. He worked from home whenever possible, strangely happy to have the background noise of kindergarten over his quiet university office.

...

“Okay, but where do I put the biiiiiiiiiiiig number?” Y/N made a wide gesture with her arms. “Ariah, where should I put it? In the big box, yes! But oh no, my small number needs a friend. My three is soooooo lonely!” Y/N drew her mouth into a pout. “DJ, how can I help my three not be so sad? You’re absolutely right, let’s put that two right next to him in our number bond.”

…

“I’ve been waitin’  for a girl to mute,” Y/N sang into the gold karaoke mic. “I said, muuuuuuuuuute, I’m blinded by loud sounds. No, I can’t hear the friend who’s tryin’ to talk.”

…

“Oh boy. Kev, honey, we can— we can see you. Kevin, Kevin, Kevin. We can see all of you. I can’t turn your camera off, buddy. You gotta— there we go.”

…

“Mute please, I need— I need everybody to mute, please. Oh my goodness where is that music coming from?” Y/N frantically searched for her index card with the picture of the mute icon, as the sounds of a highly inappropriate song blared through the computer speaker. “I know it’s so loud, guys. Why is my mute power gone?! This is why we need to make sure we keep our mute button on, kindergarten.”

…

“No sweetie, it’s not time to log off yet. I’m sorry, I know it’s such a long day. We have about an hour left. Do you guys wanna do a countdown? It’s the fin-al count-down! Do-do doo dooooo. Do-do-d-do-dooo…”

…

“Annnnnd, I should see all my friends on mute. William, hang on just a second. All my friends need to look at my picture, it’s an oval with a line through it… Okay, William, what did you bring to show us?” Y/N leaned toward the computer screen. “Grandma Kathy? O-oh, she’s— she’s in the—“ Y/N’s eyes widened. “Is that— is that an urn? Oh wow. Um, well, wow. It’s beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing that with us, William. Grandma Kathy, may she rest in peace.”

⧭⧭⧭

A week into Y/N teaching kindergarten from their living room, the university had announced its transition to online coursework for the remainder of the academic year. Spencer had to host his first zoom lecture, and he was absolutely dreading it.

“Spence, it’s going to be fine. It’s not like you’ve never been on a video conference,” Y/N assured him. She sat cross-legged on the couch, waiting for him to let her in to his practice zoom.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t running those meetings. I just showed up.” He squinted at the computer screen. “Are you in?”

Y/N barely resisted the urge to make a joke, knowing that Spencer probably wouldn’t appreciate the innuendo. “No, you have to admit me.”

“What do you mean? How do I do that?”

“There should be a box with a button that says admit.”

Spencer gestured at the computer. “Well there’s a bunch of boxes— which one should I be looking at?”

Y/N sighed and got up from the couch. “IQ of 187 and can’t find the box.”

Spencer dragged a hand through his hair. “I know I shouldn’t find this so difficult. I’m sorry you have to waste your time on this.”

“Hey, it was a joke.” Y/N grabbed his hand from where he was frustratedly pulling on his frazzled curls. “I’m sorry. That was mean and you’re already stressed enough.” She used her free hand to smooth his hair back into place. She scrunched her nose. “I love you and your limited technology skills. And honestly it’s kind of nice to have one thing I can actually teach you about.” She squeezed his hand, leaning over him to peer at his computer screen. “All right, let’s find that elusive admit button.”

When the day of his lecture rolled around, Spencer thanked all the atoms in the observable universe that Y/N had a break during his class. Within the first ten minutes, he’d managed to accidentally kick himself out of his own meeting and then somehow lose track of the screenshare button.

“No one can see me and I don’t know what happened to the screenshare option. It was there and now it’s just… gone,” he told Y/N.

She leaned over his desk, eyes tracking over the screen and mouse clicking around the desktop. “How in the world did you manage to block your camera?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t even touch it!” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t understand how it’s even possible to be this bad at this.”

Y/N bumped his knee with her own, pulling up his camera settings and preferences. “Relax. You can’t be good at everything. It’s a refreshing reminder that you’re a mere mortal like the rest of us.” With a few rapid clicks, Y/N unblocked his camera and located the screenshare bar. “There. Crisis averted. I’m just going to share your whole screen in case you want to toggle between application windows. So just be aware that they’ll be able to see everything. And then you just click here when you’re ready to stop sharing.”

When Y/N turned her head toward him to check that he understood, Spencer grabbed the side of her face and caught her lips in a kiss. Y/N smiled against his mouth, heart speeding up as he traced the seam of her mouth with his tongue.

“Um, Dr. Reid? Your um— your camera’s working now.”

Spencer nearly fell out of his chair, his cheeks about the color of the Leave Meeting icon. Y/N dropped her head, debating whether she wanted to laugh or let the earth open up and swallow her whole. She ultimately decided to compose herself, stepping back and giving a little wave to the sea of tiny, grinning zoom faces before slinking out of frame, miming sorry to one very mortified professor.

⧭⧭⧭

“Would you want to be our mystery reader next week?” Y/N asked, bookmarking the page of her novel and reclining back in bed. “You just have to pick a story to read. Oh, and think of four clues about your identity to give the kiddos.”

Spencer raised his eyebrow, continuing to read. “Any story?”

Y/N laughed. “Well they’re six, so maybe hold off on the Chaucer and Bradbury for now. A picture book would be preferable.”

“Did you know that the first picture book, Orbis Sensualium Pictus, or Visible World in Pictures, was published in 1658?” He looked up from his own book. “Czech educator John Amos Comenius wanted to create a book that would be accessible to children of all levels of ability. The educational theories he explored are actually still in practice in the field of early childhood education.” He turned toward her from his spot under the covers. “For example, when you have your students make a hissing sound and slither their arms when they produce the sound represented by the letter s? Comenius included an alphabet chart with various animal and human sounds representing each letter. He wanted to demonstrate that the incorporation of multiple senses could help increase learning.”

“I guess you don’t fix what isn’t broken,” Y/N mused. “300 years later, and we’re still using the same methods.”

“362, actually,” Spencer corrected.

She gave him a look. “Maybe we can save the Comenius for another time.”

“The genre of children’s literature encompasses some of the most profound and philosophical story telling of all time.” Spencer returned his attention to his reading.

“...So is that a yes?”

Spencer smiled. “I’ve got a book in mind.”

“And clues,” Y/N reminded him, snuggling down under the covers and reopening her book. “We need some fun clues, mystery reader.”

…

“Kindergarten, we have a very special mystery reader this week. Oh man, are you ready for the first clue? The mystery reader loves jell-o! Raise your little hand if you love jell-o, too. Okay, kindergarten, I see you! Lots of jell-o lovers in the house.”

…

“Okay, clue number two! Our mystery reader works as a community helper— remember we learned about all different kinds of community helpers; firefighters, nurses, police officers. But if the mystery reader could be anything, they’d want to be a cowboy! How cool is that?”

...

“Clue number three for our mystery reader!” Y/N sucked in a gasp. “You guys. The mystery reader can do magic. Oh my goodness, I am so excited for Friday,” she sing-songed. “Will they show us a trick? Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe if you ask nicely.”

…

“Okay, my friends, the last clue. The mystery reader loves reading. They read every day, and they’ve been reading since 1983! Yes, that was a very long time ago.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Okay, any last guesses about who our mystery reader might be?” Y/N questioned.

“I think it’s your dad,” a little voice called out.

Spencer made a choking noise from where he sat, slightly off camera. Y/N laughed. “The mystery reader is decidedly not my dad, Keyshon. Remember I showed you guys the picture of him— my dad’s a farmer, so he’s kind of already a cowboy.” She clapped her hands together. “Okay, without further ado, drumroll please... Our mystery reader is…” Y/N pushed her desk chair out of frame to allow Spencer to roll in, holding her hands out. “Spencer!”

He gave a little wave, smoothing his hair, suddenly painfully self-aware and nervous about the opinions of two dozen six-year-olds. “Hi guys.”

“You’re the boy on Ms. Y/L/N’s phone.”

“Your hair is so fluffy!”

“Do you have a cowboy hat?”

“I like your sweater.”

“Can you really do magic?”

“What’s your favorite jell-o?”

“Whoa, okay, let’s remember our mute button,” Y/N, holding up her index card. “I promise you’ll get to ask Spencer all your questions after he reads the story.”

Spencer smiled at the excited faces beaming through the screen. “Yes, I’m on Ms. Y/L/N’s phone; I don’t own a cowboy hat, yet; yes, I really can do magic; and the red jell-o is my favorite.”

Y/N watched with interest as Spencer pulled out his book. He’d been secretive about his choice, so she was as curious as her students.

“This is one of my favorite stories. It’s written by Munro Leaf, and illustrated by Robert Lawson. It’s The Story of Ferdinand.” Spencer held the cover up to the camera. “Ferdinand is the bull here on the cover. This story was written in 1935, which was a long time ago! Okay are you ready?” Spencer looked out on a sea of thumbs up, turning the page to the beginning of the story. “Once upon a time in Spain, there was a bull, and his name was Ferdinand.”

Y/N smiled as she listened to Spencer read each page, recounting the story of the peaceful bull. He was an excellent storyteller, changing the inflection and expression of his voice to match each sentence. He held each page up for just the right amount of time, panning it so her students could see each detail of the black and white pictures. He added his own wonderings and exclamations here and there, and her students were decidedly enthralled. Her heart ached at how comfortable he was, how natural this was for him. She rested her chin in her hand, trying to keep her mind in the present— ignoring the persistent little mental image of Spencer as a dad.

“So they had to take Ferdinand home. And for all I know, he is sitting there still, under his favorite cork tree, smelling the flowers just quietly. He is very happy… And that’s The Story of Ferdinand.” Spencer closed the book with a soft smile. “I love this story. Ferdinand is a very special bull. What do you think makes him so special?”

“Ferdinand didn’t fight,” a little voice piped up.

“Yes!” Spencer agreed. “He practiced pacifism in the face of the persistent, ingrained militarism of his country’s culture.”

Y/N placed a hand on Spencer’s knee and gave a quick squeeze. “Right, Ferdinand chose not to fight, even though everybody else he knew wanted to.” Y/N winked at him before turning back to the screen full of kids. “All his friends thought he was kind of weird, but he just really wanted to hang out in the shade and smell the flowers, huh? Sounds pretty good to me.”

“He wasn’t bothered that the other bulls thought he was strange for wanting to be peaceful,” Spencer added. “Sometimes being different can be a good thing. The Story of Ferdinand reminds me that it’s okay to be yourself, even if other people think you’re weird.” His eyes met Y/N’s. “Because there will always be people who love and appreciate you for who you are.”

[ellewords]

his smile is colder than you remember. or maybe it’s his eyes. his once vibrantly warm brown eyes now look a little dead.

“tooru, hi!” you chirp nervously, looking around the large cafe like there might be more people to recognize while you grip the hot cup of tea in your hands tightly despite the way it was beginning to burn your palms through the sturdy paper. “when... when did you get back from argentina?”

he doesn’t respond at first, gaze penetrating your face, and you can’t tell if he’s trying to take in your aged features or make you uncomfortable. you figure it’s the latter when you start to squirm and only then does he look satisfied enough to speak.

“i’m just visiting for a few weeks. needed a break. how have you been?” he asks kindly, but something in his tone is just a little bit off. strained even.

“i’ve been... i’ve been good, actually,” you mutter, huffing a tiny laugh as you realize that it feels true for once. “just got my dream job, so things are probably going to get hectic pretty soon, but i’m excited, you know? it’s what i’ve been working for for years.”

oikawa looks like he wants to smile—a real, genuine smile where the corners of his eyes wrinkle slightly and his cheeks flush a pretty pink from how wide it is and his face eases up just a tiny bit—but he hesitates, biting his lip instead.

“that’s amazing, (y/n),” he says, and try as he might, he can’t hide the affection coating his words. “i’m so proud of you. we, we should celebrate. i know you must’ve worked hard for it, so let me treat you.”

your cheeks warm at the offer, nodding happily. maybe things aren’t as tense as you thought.

“that would be great! how long are you here for? we should make sure it isn’t too close to your leaving day so you don’t stress—“

“babe!” a voice calls suddenly, and you perk up immediately at its familiarity.

you turn in search of the person, and you can’t help the grin you shoot them. you wave frantically before holding up a finger to indicate that you would be just a few minutes more. they nod in understanding, and you watch as they point in the direction of a corner where you can see your things and theirs lying on top of a booth. making sure you see, they wait until you nod in confirmation, smiling one more time, before they head in the direction of the table.

your smile shrinks slightly as they walk away, but the fondness doesn’t. shaking your head as if to rearrange your thoughts, you turn back to oikawa.

his eyes are dead again, but they aren’t looking at you anymore. instead, they follow your partner as they move through the crowd of people in the cafe. then he scoffs softly, and he returns your gaze.

“so you really did it, huh?” there’s a bite in the way he says it, and you gasp softly at his change in demeanor.

it reminds you of the bitter, insecure boy you met in middle school. the boy you saw wandering the halls with a fake air around him, one of confidence and power. the boy who looked like he would crack if you stared at him too long, if you bothered to try to get to know him more than he allowed. the boy he was around you before you fell in love.

“did what?” you ask cautiously.

he scoffs again, and now his lips are pulled back in that domineering, sugary sweet grin he developed in high school. you hate that grin.

“you moved on.”

and it hits you like an icicle to the heart, the coldness of his voice.

“yeah. isn’t that,” you trail off before starting again. “you told me to, tooru, so i did. what’s wrong with that?”

you want to throw your tea when he scoffs once again, like you’re stupid for not understanding why he’s acting so weird.

“there’s nothing wrong with that,” he says. “it’s just funny, is all. weren’t you the one who said you would never let go?”

the cup in your hand caves slightly as your grip squeezes tighter around it. the liquid inside splashes over the edge just a little, and you hiss when it lands on your thumb.

“that... that was a long time ago. before you left,” you say, and you hate that it sounds like you’re trying to justify some wrongdoing because you haven’t done anything wrong.

“i know. i just figured you’d actually stick to it. i, i just, i guess i should have known you wouldn’t stick around.”

the cup crushes in your hand, but this time, you don’t feel the sting of the tea meeting your skin. your mind races too much.

he’s doing that thing he used to do in high school, you realize, when he was hurt but didn’t want to confront it. the thing where he would say things, things he didn’t mean, so that he could hurt you in the same way he was hurting. the thing he didn’t always realize he was doing. he just desperately wanted to be the one with the upper hand, and as much as he cared about people, he cared about protecting himself more.

you’d fallen victim to that thing a number of times back then when you knew that he needed the support to get through it. he just needed someone to care enough to help him. you could understand him then. but now...

now you didn’t understand him at all.

“no,” you spit out, and he jumps at the way the cup crumbles in your hands, and he jumps again when he hears the frustration in your voice.

“no, you don’t get to be mad at me when you’re the one who decided to leave. i was willing to come with you and support you and stay by your side, but it was you that told me not to. and still! still, i said i would wait for you, until you were ready to have me again, but there were no calls, no messages, no letters, no nothing!

“and i saw you, on your socials! you looked happy. happier than you ever did here. you looked so happy, and you looked like, like, you looked like you had moved on. from japan, from the past, from... from me... so yeah, i figured it was time i did the same, because if you were happy, than i was happy. that’s all i ever wanted for you, tooru, and you were, so it seemed fitting that i let go.

“but i refuse to be made to feel bad when this is what you said you wanted from me! i spent months wondering if i made the right choice when i let you get on that plane all alone, if there was more that i could have done to make you realize how much i cared, and supported you, and loved you! and i’ve finally realized that i did enough! that we just weren’t meant to be. i moved on because you did. because i was ready to.

“so no, tooru, you don’t get to be upset about how everything played out. you don’t get to be upset with me.”

your chest is heaving by the time you’re finished. it almost hurts to breathe, but you don’t have time to think about that because the noise of the cafe surges back into your ears. you look around, suddenly embarrassed about your outburst, but you’re relieved to see that no one is focused on your words. they’re all frantic about your hands and the tea that spilled to the floor, steam still floating up from the puddle that formed at your feet.

except oikawa. his cheeks are that pretty pink you used to love, and his mouth is opening and closing like a fish. he’s staring at you with those same dead eyes, but for a second, you think you see something flicker in them. he opens his mouth, this time looking like he’s going to say something, but before he has the chance, another distressed voice cuts in.

“oh my gosh, love, your hands!” your partner yelps, suddenly by your side, fumbling clumsily as they throw your things over their shoulder so they can tend to you. “oh gosh, um, excuse me, can you grab some of those napkins for us, please?”

they’re talking to oikawa, who seems to blink out of his daze just then before grabbing a handful of napkins to give them.

your partner taps the napkins across your hands desperately, and they’re holding you so gently and with so much care that you finally feel the burn of the fallen tea. thankfully, the burn isn’t anything too serious, but the skin throbs visibly and aches slightly. your eyes water. they notice.

“hey, no, it’s alright, okay? look at me, love. i’ll get you another one, okay, but first i need to make sure you’re okay,” they mutter to you, eyes darting across your face with worry.

you sniffle, shaking your head instantly, and then you lean heavily into their side. you’re tired and your eyes hurt and your chest feels so tight, and you just want to go home. it’s almost as if they can read your mind because before you can utter the words, they’re mumbling into your hair that they’ll make you some at home instead. they start to guide you to the exit; with every step away from the scene you had made, you feel lighter.

you had loved tooru, all those years ago, and you had wanted him to come back for so long. you’d hoped that one day he would wake up and realize how much you yearned to be with him, or that he should call you just to see how you were. you’d hoped that he would realize he still felt the same way you did. but you could only put up with so much, after being left in the dark for so long, after dreaming for so long, after being disappointed for so long. you realized that now.

you were happy now, even if it wasn’t by his side.

oikawa can see it, the happiness that follows the two of you out the door. he longs for it, but he doesn’t move in pursuit of it. instead, when the two of you are finally out of sight, oikawa allows another scoff to fall past his lips, but this time, tears fall from his eyes as well.

-💛

— from elle ! this was pure pain but in the best possible way ?? like wow 💛anon you are absolutely amazing and talented please this made my heart actually ache oh gosh ;-; you are so so good i don’t think words are enough to describe you aaaaa !! anyways for my addition (under the cut as always), i decided to do a lil flashback before oikawa decided to come back. i was v intrigued by oikawa leaving reader in the dark so this scenario stemmed from that. idk if this will help, but i listened to taylor swift’s i almost do on repeat while writing

notes / warnings : timeskip!oikawa x gn!reader, scenario, angst, wc: ~1k (perhaps my longest margins entry ??)

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

Twenty-seven. 

You’ve reached out to him twenty-seven times today. This included calls, text messages, and voice memos.  

They were always sweet; always checking up on him, asking how he is, if he’s getting along with his new team, if practice was tiring, if he was taking care of himself. You always thought of him first, put him above yourself. Oikawa knows it shouldn’t be that way, but the small, selfish part of himself couldn’t help but love it. Him being oceans away didn’t seem to change that. 

The front door shuts just as his phone lights up, your name appearing on the lock screen. The heart by your name taunts him, reminding him of what once was. Oikawa’s eyes scan over your text message, tears pricking at the corners. He’s unsure if it’s from the brightness of the screen contrasting with the darkness of his apartment, or your words. Possibly both. 

[ y/n <3 : it’s getting late over there, i hope you’re getting some rest. take care… ]

Oikawa bites his lip, closing out the notification as soon as he finished reading, immediately regretting it. His lock screen is still a picture of the two of you, mocking him. But if he shut his eyes tight enough, he could almost imagine it.

The pale blue sky, the sun shining down on the two of you, the cool breeze blowing through his hair, the smile that spread across your face, the faint pink flush on his features, his arm around your shoulders, the way you leaned into his touch. Your presence is warmth, your eyes brought him comfort, your hand resting on his cheek gave him peace.

His phone pings again, snapping Oikawa out of his trance. Another message.

[ y/n <3 : i love you. ]  

Twenty-nine. 

Twenty-nine calls, texts, and voice messages. You’ve reached out to him twenty-nine times today. Yesterday you reached out to him thirty-five times. Last week it was at fifty. 

But Oikawa Tooru didn’t answer a single one. 

A sigh leaves him, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. He doesn’t bother turning the lights on, the quiet sounds of his shoes hitting the wooden floor fill the room. Oikawa’s steps are slow, like each one physically pained him to take. Nighttime was always the hardest to bear, the most difficult to resist. It’s when the temptation to call you is at its peak.

Oikawa stands in front of his living room window, hands in his pockets. The view of the city never failed to take his breath away; bright lights from the buildings that towered over the hundreds of people on the street, their nights only beginning as they hopped from one bar to another. Practice was too much today, his body beaten and bruised from the long hours of setting, receiving, blocking, and serving. There’s a strain in his muscles that he can’t shake off, and if it weren’t for that he would have been part of the city nightlife too.

Nights are the hardest. He doesn’t have volleyball or his teammates to keep him occupied. He’s not dancing his heart out with strangers who vaguely recognize him, music blaring in his ears, taking pictures to post on social media the very next day. Night are the hardest because his mind always leads him to you. 

Midnight for him meant that it was midday for you. Have you eaten yet? How is work treating you? Are you getting along with your coworkers? …did you think of him like he always thought of you? Questions that he could have the answers to within a few seconds; all he had to do was reach for his phone, look for your name — the only one with a heart next to it, and press the call button.

Instead, Oikawa reads through your texts. The ones where you ask him how he’s doing, the ones where you quickly summarize your day, the ones where you tell him you love him. His heart flutters before it aches, the grip on his phone tightening. 

His heart has always belonged to you, Oikawa knew it from the very day you met. He knew it when he confessed. He knew it when he asked you to be his. He knew it as you went on dates, as you celebrated anniversaries. He knew it through every fight, in every kiss. He knew it when he got on the plane that took him miles away from you.

Oikawa also knew you deserved better than him. He knew you deserved someone present; someone who could be there with you, physically. Clearly, he can’t be the one to do that anymore. This is for you. At the end of it all, what he’s doing is for you. Maybe it would make everything easier. You’d think he’d move on. You’d hate him. It’s for the best, right? 

He hopes he’s wrong, but Oikawa persists anyways. 

Out of sight, out of mind. Isn’t that how the saying goes?

It was much more difficult than Oikawa thought it would be; after all, you’re probably just as stubborn and persistent as he is. His phone lights up, signalling a new text.

[ y/n <3 : i really hope you’re okay, tooru. ] 

This makes thirty. 

He bites the inside of his cheek, a futile attempt to stop the tears that streamed down his face. A choked up noise leaves the back of his throat, surprising himself. He could have ended both his and your pain, all he had to do was type out a reply. 

But the flurry of contradicting emotions stop him from doing so. Oikawa wants you to live your life, to move on, to forget him, to be happy without him. At the same time, he wanted you to wait for him, with open arms and that smile he loved. 

His fingers move on their own, slowly but surely, as quiet sobs raked through his entire body. 

[ i’m always going to love you. ] 

Oikawa almost sends it. But he doesn’t.

᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

send me a hc / or a scenario ! <3  |  written on the margins masterlist

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[letarasstuff]

An awkward Meeting

(A/N): This was requested by an anon. I'm happy to finally present you this one, I really had fun writng it, because it's practically a casual slice out of the crime fighting lovelies :) Enjoy it!

Summary: Derek's daughter accompanies her Aunt and Uncle to the convention. That's pretty much it. Except for that one awkward meeting...

Warnings: A little awkwardness, Kevin Lynch, mentions of murdering someone (it's a joke), the reader dresses up as Black Widow (dunno why I say this, but maybe someone doesn't feel comfortable dressing up as a white/female character)

Wordcount: 1k

✨Masterlist✨ _________________________________

Derek Morgan is the king of teasing. No, really. If there was a medal and trophy for teasing, he would definitely have it displayed in his glass cabinet next to his daughter’s achievements.

That’s why (Y/N) has to defend her choice to go with her Aunt Penelope and Uncle Spencer to the bone. “Princess, are you really sure you want to do that? I mean, I won’t be mad to take you back home. We can relax on the couch or look at the new house I want to renovate. What do you say?”

(Y/N) pushes the hair from her wig out of her face. “I say no. Dad, I promised them to go and I worked way too hard and long on this cosplay to just don’t use it. Face the facts, your daughter is a nerd dressed in a Black Widow costume.”

Derek laughs and tries to ruffle her hair from his position without causing a car crash. “You, little missy, spent too much time with your Uncle Spencer when you were younger. I think I have to keep both of you from interacting with each other.”

“Oh shut it, you love us and our nerdy rants. Also you have to take the next exit”, his daughter says while looking at her phone for the directions. “Oh okay. I see. You don’t trust your old man bringing you to your little geek event or what?” He teases her and takes the turn.

“Ok, have fun with your Aunt and Uncle. Penelope will bring you home after you ate dinner together. Be good for them, understood?” “Yes”, (Y/N) murmurs while checking her bag.

Her father smirks. “Yes what?” “Sir, yes, Sir. Better?” He pulls her in for a hug. “Much. I love you.” The teenager opens the door and responds: “Love you, too! See you later!” And off she is, the red curls of her wig bouncing with her very step.

“Ah, there she- Oh my god, this cosplay is amazing, like literally everything. You really have to steal our spotlight, do you?” Penelope gushes over (Y/N)’s outfit. “No, I mean look at you. And Spencer, did you handknit that scarf, because I’ve been looking for one like this for ages and I couldn’t find one. You have to show me the pattern if you did.”

After a while of babbling over each other’s cosplay and how certain parts got done, the trio decides to go into the convention. “Okay, the TV Movie is at Hall H at 9. Can we go to that?” Penelope asks, being a step ahead of them. She is practically glowing with excitement.

“Absolutely!” Spencer tells her, being as delighted as the blonde techie. “Do you guys think we can make it to the Enterprise panel at 11? I really wanna see that”, (Y/N) nearly begs. She didn’t wait for nearly two months to miss it in the end.

Penelope nods. “Probably. Thank you both for coming.” “Of course, I wouldn’t want to miss it for the world”, the genius tells her. Together they go into the convention and nerd out about any little thing.

“Do you guys think my Dad would be mad if I bought that Bucky hoodie and Captain America shield after purchasing two pop figures already?” (Y/N) asks, looking indecisive. “There is only one way to find out", encourages Spencer with a sly smirk.

A little later they leave the complex to get a bit of fresh air after spending hours upon hours in a clamped building. As they fangirl about other people’s cosplays, they meet a familiar face.

“Penelope!” “Kevin” Garcia counters, though she is more solemn. “You came and brought a friend. CSU technician Sharp how are you?” Spencer and (Y/N) look at each other uncomfortably. This is definitely the most awkward situation they ever witnessed.

After telling Kevin how lame the whole convention is, Penelope takes her companions by the arm and drags them away.

“Wow, I’ve never seen Penelope Garcia this stiff. Are you sure you don’t have a stick up your-” “I dare you to end that sentence and I’ll tell your father the real amount of money you just spent in there”, she cuts the teenager off, looking her deadly serious into the eye.

This whole Kevin thing pretty much killed the mood, but they still go on with their day. They even meet Rossi, who seems like he just wants to forget that he saw the three of them in costumes.

Later that evening, (Y/N) sits with her Aunt on her couch nearly passed out from the food coma they induced themselves in. “To be honest, Penny, I think you can do 1000 times better without Kevin. Also, I can 100% kill that guy for you, I watched enough Bones episodes to know how to do the perfect crime.”

The blonde laughs and cuddles her godchild closer to her. “Naw, I can’t let you do that as a responsible wine aunt, but I thank you very much for the offer. Now get up, I have to get you home else your father will send out a search party with dogs and as much as I want to pet them I don’t think he will be happy about it.”

That night Derek enters his daughter’s room, spotting her on her bed nearly asleep. “I had the most awkward meeting today, Dad. It was even worse than your cooking fiasco last Christmas.” “Nothing is worse than that. The only thing able to trump that is Penelope meeting Kevin”, he laughs quietly. But as he sees his daughter nodding, his eyes go wide. “No they didn’t!”

“They did and it was super awkward!” Derek lays himself beside her. “Spill the beans. I have to know everything about that to tease your aunt at work.”

And this is exactly how they fall asleep, cuddled close to each other, gossiping about anyone they don't like.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962