#let's blame sharpy for this

[webslingingslasher]

peters nerdy side>>>> can we get more hot nerdy peter pretty pleaseeeee

nerdy peter makes me feral.

Peter Parker was finally rewarded for all the shit he deals with. 

A teen, who was a silent walker in school, but a near lethal hero at night, one that has to deal with more stress and traumas than any other kid at seventeen. Night after night, his spirit being broken down a little more each bad guy he’s put away. 

Queens see a hero that keeps the streets clean. 

Sometimes, all Peter could see was someone’s dad, or husband, or son he was putting away. 

All that bullshit he’s been dealt, the bullshit about power and responsibility, was washed away when he finally got something good, something he really thought he deserved. 

He got you, and that’s why he’ll stop at nothing to keep you. 

“You got yourself a good one, parker. Don’t fuck it all up with your nerdy shit, pretty girls hate that.”

Was it dumb to listen to Flash of all people? Maybe. 

Does he know more about girls and has a better track record at keeping them? Yes. 

But of course, just like how you were the one to approach him, ask him out, kiss him first and ask for him to be your boyfriend, he should’ve trusted you. Could you really blame him though, not totally trusting he can have a purely good thing with no consequences? 

He couldn’t, that’s why it shocked him when you made it clear you only wanted him. 

You wanted Peter Parker, however he came. Science facts, nerdy hobbies, tirades and all. 

—---------------------

Have you ever built up an idea of who someone was in your head, and when you date the other shoe drops and they’re nothing like you thought? 

That was you with Peter Parker. 

He was adorably perfect, noticing him when sharing a history class. Peter sat three seats up from you on the left, perfect position for you to watch his habits. The shake in his leg, tapping pencils on his desk, blowing a breath every time someone answered incorrectly, sitting up and leaning over his desk when something catches his attention, chewing his bottom lip while going over notes, poking his tongue out when he takes a test. 

Peter Parker was the constant subject on your mind, starting in history and causing you to look for him in other classes, you only shared one more, typing class. He was three rows behind you, there wasn’t a good way to look at him, instead having to rely on his quiet murmurs when the teacher stands behind his computer. 

After two weeks of pining you couldn’t stand it, stomping over to his table at lunch you sit down right next to him. His friends paused at your sudden and aggressive entrance. 

“Hi. We haven’t really talked but we share typing and history. For two weeks straight I’ve been watching you and I can’t get you out of my head, and I would really, really like to go on a date with you.” 

You can see it on his face, how he goes from shock to excitement, then as he looks you over his face falls. He thinks you’re fucking with him, you don’t know how to make him believe it’s real. 

“Here,” you pull at your backpack and rip the front pocket open, you pull a sharpie out and with a slight tremble you grab his arm, pushing his sleeve up you uncap the marker with your teeth. Scribbling your number onto his skin, “think about it, let me know.” 

Before you lose your steam you scramble to stand and grab your bag, “okay, that’s all. Um,” you nod at his friends, silence deafening as everyone at the table takes in the scenario. “Thank you, and… enjoy lunch?” Cringing, you turn to leave, whispering an ‘oh my god,’ to yourself while pressing a hand to your cheek. 

Peter is sure in that moment you were a hundred percent serious and you just mortified yourself, spilling your guts and being met with nothing.

 Six steps away he calls out, “yes!” 

You pause, then turn, “what?” 

“Yes! I’ll go on a date with you.” 

Oh, that’s a new feeling. It felt like your heart had wings, your stomach felt like you were on a rollercoaster, flutters everywhere. You couldn’t even try to play it cool, the guy you’ve been crazy about just as interested and curious as you were. A toothy smile overtook your face, eyes lit up. 

Taking a few steps closer, you felt giddy. 

“Really? You will?” 

Peter’s smile matched yours, he laughed through his answer, he can’t believe you actually like him that much. “Yeah.” Biting your bottom lip you pull it together, “cool, text me and we’ll plan something?” 

“You got it.” 

Nodding you walk off, Peter’s riding on a high like never has. He’s never had such a pretty girl like you like him, want him, notice him. He felt like he’s been rewarded, that he does deserve a good thing. 

Flash scoffs when you sit back at your table, immediately talking and watching faces gasp and squeal. 

“You got yourself a good one, parker. Don’t fuck it all up with your nerdy shit, pretty girls hate that.”

The last thing he wants to do, before he even gets you, is send you off. So, he listens and promises to be someone that should be with a girl like you, someone that isn’t really him. 

—---------------------

You figured it was first date nerves. 

That or just the fact you’ve never been alone with each other, especially under the guise of a date. It wasn’t like he was weird, but he was off. The person you watched in class was goofy, using his body to express himself, confident when speaking because he could back every word up. 

This Peter was quiet, guarded and almost… boring. 

You tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, he just had some jitters. Maybe if you kissed him it would settle him, you could prove that you liked him and he had nothing to be nervous about. Trying to look past his awkwardness you took the night as it was, wishing he was making you laugh like he had in class, or wishing he would ramble on in a story like you’ve watched him do with his friends at lunch or at his locker. 

It may have been different than you thought but he’d come around after a date or two surly, you’d kiss him and after another few dates he’ll open up and be his true self. It was hope, but you were riding on it. 

Peter ended the night by walking you home, conversation slowly dwindling as you approached closer, falling flat when you were  in front of the building. Waiting for a moment you looked at his mouth, he made no reaction, you hadn’t expected him to sweep you off your feet but to not offer anything made you feel unsure. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

It was obvious from the look on his face that he wasn’t expecting anything in the slightest, but he licked his bottom lip and nodded softly, “yeah,” leaning in you wait for a moment, he makes no move, he has to be extremely nervous, no other option. You kissed him, you pressed into him and grabbed his face, his hands gently hovered and you pulled away. 

Maybe he just pitied you, just agreed because you put him on the spot. 

“Um, you know if you didn’t want-” 

“Can we do this again, please?” 

And just because he asked, and because it seemed like he realized he acted off and he wanted another chance, and because you really do believe in first date jitters, you say yes. 

—--------------

The first time you went over to his house his room was oddly clean, empty spaces on his bookshelf and shelves, almost like he’d put things away. Eyeing a bin by his closet you walked closer, “you collect comics?” Hoping you wouldn’t find, but still opening the top and starting to look through the ones on top. 

Peter took a deep breath, “as a kid, kinda stupid now, don’t you think?” 

You furrow your eyebrows and shake your head, looking back down at the comic in your hand. You thought when you started dating he’d open up more, instead he got more closed off. 

Clearing your throat you place the comics back in, in the exact same order and putting the lid back on. “No, I don’t think they’re stupid. I was hoping you had some new ones I could catch up on, but if you think they’re stupid now I guess I’ll have to get ‘em myself.” 

If he had known you like comics he would’ve never said that. It’s his fault for leaving them out, he should’ve put them away like everything else that screamed ‘nerd alert’. 

“I didn’t mean they’re stupid, just you know… collecting them as an adult… is.. weird?” 

The lamest excuse you’ve ever heard, but you keep your patience. It hasn't even been two weeks, he’ll come around. You know it. 

—------

Surprising Peter with a hug he budged against your weight before supporting you, talking to a friend while he wrapped his arms around your back. Picking up on pieces of the conversation you nudge your head up, interested in his words. 

The Peter you like, the one that’s animated and rambling, moving his hands across your back as he talks. You place a kiss at the bottom of his neck, “whatcha talking about?”  It sounded like a new program that was going to change the future of computer engineering, when you questioned he blew you off. “Nothing important.” 

You had tried, you tried to be kind and patient and understanding but he just wasn’t who you wanted. You wanted that person, the person that’s excited about new technology and collected comic books. 

Peter closed off when you asked, guarded back up, you wished it could’ve been different. Maybe one day he’d open up more, you didn’t want anything but his true self. 

You gave it a month before you had to accept that Peter Parker wasn’t the person you thought he was, today, you had to accept that you were breaking up with Peter Parker. Pulling away you grab his arm, silently telling him to look at you. 

“Can I come over later?” 

“Yeah, of course. Wanna come with me after school?” 

“Sure,” you wondered if he could see through your smile. It doesn’t seem like it, he leans down and gives you a quick kiss, you pull away and back away through the halls. 

He has no idea what’s coming. 

—------------

Gently pushing Peter’s shoulders down to coax him into sitting on the edge of his bed, you grin politely when he follows instruction. Dragging his desk chair to sit in front of him you pause to think about what you were going to say, clearing your throat you begin. 

“So, I like you a lot, and I’ve enjoyed having you as my boyfriend for the past month-” 

Peter’s eyebrows furrow, he holds his hand up, “enjoyed? Are you breaking up with me?” 

You bite your lip and nod solemnly, “I’m sorry, Peter.” 

The silence is unsettling, you look away from him, his figures deflated and his mind races. 

“Why?” 

Taking a deep breath and blowing it out you shrug, “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, Peter. But, uh, you’re just… not what I thought you’d be like.” 

How could you not like him? He’s done everything right. He was the perfect suitor, he acted like the typical non nerd male. The kind of all american guy every girl wanted. 

“I don’t… what does that mean?” 

You laugh, “I have a type, and you’re not it. I like nerds, like, straight up goofy, funny guys that know something about everything and collect comic books and get excited at new, humanity altering technology. I thought you were that guy, but I guess not.” 

Oh my god. 

He’s fucked it all up, he was dumb enough to believe you wanted something else. 

He can show you he’s a nerd, he’s been one his entire goddamn life, he’s about to nerd olympics the hell out of you. 

Peter jumps from his seat so quickly it startles you, his hands come down on the armrests of your chair, the seat tilting backwards as he pushes his weight towards you. 

“I’m the biggest nerd you’ll ever meet.” 

Your seat jostles when he lets go and opens his closet, pulling out a box he sets it on his bed. 

“This is everything I put away when we started dating,” he turns with three rubik’s cubes, each one in various sizes. “,these are my rubik’s cubes, I can finish the standard in forty three seconds, the six by six took me about thirty minutes and this baby?” he bounced the biggest one in his hold, “, this is a twenty one by twenty one, it took me about three hours.” 

Peter dropped them to the bed and continued, “and this is my national championship trophy for chess club,” he shoves it in your face before he keeps digging, a small picture frames come next, “this is when I won the states most innovative science fair project,” frantic digging, “, this is a figurine of my favorite video game,” two large disc sets next, “lord of the rings and star wars,” 

He spins around, flying past your body where he picks up his comic book container, “remember when I was late to our date last week? I was getting these,” three new additions of an old comic you had just started to pick up, “, and currently?” Peter moved to his desk, tapping on his keyboard until his screen woke up, code covered the screen, he pointed between the monitor and a notebook, “I’m learning to read binary code.” 

You felt like the grinch because your heart grew the times the size, adoration blossomed, you could feel your chest crack and glow. The Peter you wanted, the person you thought he was from the start, was real and in front of you. 

This was who he was, so why was he hiding it? 

“Why did you hide that from me? Peter, that’s like, the entire reason I wanted to date you. I liked who you were, then you turned into someone else.” 

Peter rested against his desk and sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I figured a pretty girl like you wouldn’t want some nerdy guy, it might be cute at first but when I’m stoked about something I read on wikipedia and make it my thing for a day and talk your ear off about it, you’re gonna wish you had a boyfriend that just watches sport clips for fun.”

That’s the point you were trying to make, “that’s what I want! I was literally dumping you because you weren’t that.” 

“Well, I am that. So there’s no point in breaking up, right?” 

You hum and spin in his chair, “I dunno… you dragged me along for a month, hiding yourself from me, making me question everything. I mean, you have a lot to make up for, parker.” 

“C’mere,” you’re not given an option, he reaches forward and pulls the chair towards him and pulls you from the seat, flopping himself down and tugging you into his lap. Your stomach clenches, this was the confident Peter you wanted, it was confidence in himself. 

His pointer finger taps on the monitor, “you read binary from right to left, and you separate them into groups of eight. Now the key is knowing that each one and zero mean-” 

Your mouth on his, cutting his words off with a kiss, you held his face tightly, never wanting him to separate from you. Caught off guard he froze for a moment, then wrapped his hands around your middle. Pressing into him, separating for air but giving small pecks. 

“Baby,” kiss, “, I’m sorry,” kiss, “, I shut,” kiss, “, you out,” kiss, “I didn’t,” kiss, “, know it meant,” kiss, “, so much,” kiss, “, to you,” kiss. 

“You’re so much smarter than me,” a chaste kiss, “it’s so hot,” you look into his eyes, he’s flushed out and breathing harshly. “You’re so hot,” another kiss, Peter feels like the room is spinning, he’s never felt so wanted, so needed, the way you can’t stop kissing him, how tight you’re holding him to you, how blown your pupils are, the way you’re gulping him like water. 

“I mean if you,” he grunts when you kiss down his neck, biting into his collarbone. “, if you want, I could show you how quick I can solve my rubik’s cube.” Your hands drag up his hair, gripping and tilting his head away, better access to nibble and lick the skin. “Or, recite the first seventy nine numbers of pi.” 

Attention caught, “you know the first seventy nine numbers of pi?” 

“Mm hmm, I could also tell you” a whimper,  “, all the elements. Want me to start rattling them off?” 

Kissing the middle of his throat you hum, “I’d rather you take your pants off.” 

For the first time in Peter Parker’s life, memorizing the periodic table got him laid. 

[pinkyqil]

Mapi and r annoying each other basically all the time but when anyone else other than each other push or fights them in the field or off the field , they would be the one to defend each other

A/n:Hi nonny there's already a fic written based of this and a requests I got it called ride or die so here's headcannos instead 💗

MASTERLIST

Mischievous!r: first in line when it comes to defending mapi and her whole team just because she's young doesn't mean that she'll be taking disrespect from any one online

Mischievous!r: she got tackled so bad it sent both mapi and Ingrid into some type of protective mother mode let's just say the player that did it never wants to be on the same pitch as mapi

Mischievous!r: tackle mapi for fun at training but when it someone else or one of her teammates that do it she send glares towards them or does something petty to them

Mischievous!r: she had a minor discomfort where she couldn't train and play but could still come to practice along with game day when she was passing down the hall she had gotten really jealous of the way mapi and Ingrid treat esmee giving everyone silent treatment for two weeks straight and whenever esmee would try to partner up with her she would make snarky remarks

Mischievous!r: once when they where doing group games r and mapi where on the same team they both were so inseparable that it was the last time they got grouped together.

Mischievous!r: gets mapi to do pranks with her on their teammates but as soon has they get caught she dips and blames it on mapi.for ditching her mapi had given r a suspension from coming to her flat but r would just go to Ingrid's place instead to hang in results of that mapi found out then decided to wait for the day r would sleep over at Ingrid's then used sharpie to draw all over r faces which had caused chaos between r and Ingrid but it was all mapi's plan till this day they both don't know

[flowery-mess]

Midnights of October🍁🧡🎃

October 23rd

Pumpkin carving [dad!Noah]

warnings: Noah being a dad and lot's of fluff🥲

author's note: not edited or proof read, feedback is welcomed!💗

taglist: @concreteangel92 @sorrowsofsilence @lma1986 @stardustsirenmelody (let me know if you want to be tagged or deleted!😊)

words: 1.6k

Midnights of October masterlist

*

„Dad! Dad! I want this one!“ your little one screamed when he saw middle sized pumpkin in the box in the store you were currently in. Your son, Milo, did pumpkin curving in kindergarten earlier this week and became obsessed with it, so you had to do family date on the weekend, starting with trip for pumpkins.

“This one?” Noah made sure which one was Milo pointing at.

“Yep.” It was really cute how excited he was, jumping and clapping his little hands.

“How many should we buy babe?” Noah turned his attention to you, but before you could answer, Milo answered for you.

“A lot! Like hundred!”

“Okay buddy, that’s too much. How about 6?” Noah asked you again.

“Yeah that’s ideal.” You approved.

“So you’ve got one, which one is next?” As Noah started analysing the pile of pumpkins in front of him, you noticed the two of them standing next to each other with intense stare as if their lives depended on choosing the right pumpkin.

“Can we make a pumpkin family? You make daddy pumpkin, mom makes mommy pumpkin, and I make a baby, like me.” Milo asked.

“Wow that’s a great idea.” You stated and thought you’d melt right at the spot from how cute that idea actually was.

So few minutes and arguments later you left the store with enough pumpkins to entertain your son enough for the day. Milo chose small one for the baby, middle one for you and the oval “tall” one for Noah, which made you laugh out loud for a few seconds, saying that this kid got your sense of humour. Then you also brought three other ones for the classic scary faces so you have enough decoration around the whole house.

When you arrived back home you all changed into some comfy clothes, made cocoa and played some Halloween music for the atmosphere. It was actually really cosy, spending Saturday evening with your husband and kid at your own house, while the weather was foggy, but you could still see the colourful leaves on the trees outside.

You and Noah started the preparations, cutting the top of each pumpkin and emptying the insides in a big bowl. While Milo was sitting across the table, commenting on everything you two did.

“Mom but miss Smith did it differently.” he sighed, shaking his head.

Or “Dad be careful and don’t cut yourself.”

Or “Why are they orange mom?”

Or “Why is Halloween called Halloween?”

Because he entered the “why?” phase and had questions about everything.

“Do you have your sharpies ready?” Noah asked Milo to gently shut his little mouth, because he knew he didn’t have it ready. So when Milo paddled to his room to get one for each of you, Noah turned his head in your direction.

“How can two introverted and quiet people make human that never stops talking.” Noah really tried to think how that’s possible, because you two were scared that your kid is going to be the shy one, but reality was different. Milo was so outgoing and making friends easily. He also managed to put both of you in an uncomfortable situation by just talking to strangers in public or making you talk to other’s kids’ parents at the playground.

“I blame that one on you, you’re the rockstar with a confidence on stage. He get’s that from you.” Nothing else was said, because you heard two little feet running back to the dining area.

“I have black, red and green and also thick and thin one, so everyone can choose what they want to use.” At least you did your job teaching him to be well spoken.

“Do you want to start with the scary one or the pumpkin family?” you asked while you put the bowl away.

“With the family please.”

So you started drawing your pumpkin version of yourself while Noah helped Milo to draw the baby pumpkin. It was really cute watching them doing any activity together, because they had the same face full of concertation and patience, which you lacked, so it was good thing that Noah was the one drawing an outline for the eye for the tenth time and not you.

Even their brows were furrowed the same way. You managed to take a few pictures of them without them even noticing, because they are both perfectionists, so their attention was only on that pumpkin.

You loved watching Noah being dad. You savoured every moment like this, taking a mental picture to remember it when Noah’s away on tour.

The way his eyes full of affection watch his mini version do the simplest things, because he knows that he will leave you for five weeks the next month. He hates leaving you, but that’s a thing you two had to agree on before having a baby. It’s hard for all of you, but you always find ways to be in touch as much as possible.

You love the way Noah messes Milo’s hair when he says silly joke or how he kisses his head right after it. You love the bond they have between them.

“Mom your nose is much bigger than you drew on your pumpkin.” And there goes your sentimental moment.

“Hey watch your mouth!” Noah tells him, but then you turn your pumpkin to face him and he adds “but your nose is really a bit bigger then this little dot honey.”

After you all have the faces outlined you and Noah start cutting it with knife, with Milo carefully supervising that you’re doing it right.

“And it’s done! Pumpkin Davis family!” Noah says with a childish grin on his face, proud of the job you’ve done.

Milo put them all next to each other and a big smile broke out on his face.

“That’s us, look mommy, this one is tall like daddy!”

“It is, right?” you gently caressed his head while he hugged your leg with his small posture.

“Let’s put candles in them and see how they look in the dark.” Noah then made his way to turn off the lights while you started with the candles.

And wow, did they look good.

Noah took Milo in his arms as you stood and admired your work, while the flames brought the pumpkins to life.

“Can we keep them inside tonight? I don’t want them to be cold.” Milo said out of nowhere.

“And he’s caring just like you.” Noah whispered in your ear before he gave you kiss just above it. “Of course they can bug.”

You took thousand of pictures of the pumpkins, separately with your pumpkin twin each, family pictures and then found great spot to put them to decor your home. You made sure to send pictures to the BO group chat and Folio replied with a request for Milo to make him his own pumpkin version.

“Uncle Folio wants one too? I’ll make him one!” turned out that Folio started list of requests from everyone, because they all love their little nephew.

After the list was made, Noah and Milo started with the typical scary pumpkins and you took one that was left and started cooking pumpkin soup. You wanted to give Noah some time alone with Milo, knowing he will appreciate it.

You could see them from the kitchen counter, so once in a while you’d glance in their direction or listen to their small talk. Smile never leaving your lips, because it was like watching your dream come true.

For a moment your eyes locked with Noah’s, moment that said more that thousands of words could. Noah sent big smile your way, mouthing “I love you” before turning back to finish his art.

After the soup and their second round of carving pumpkins was finished, they made you chose which one you like more, not knowing who did which. After Noah’s little hint you correctly guessed Milo’s, sending him into a big round of celebration.

You then put those two outside your front door, ate the soup for dinner and settled down for a movie night.

After changing into pyjamas and making some snack, you all laid on your spread-out couch. Milo between the two of you, laying his head in your lap for head scratches and his legs in Noah’s lap for feet massage. He has you wrapped around his fingers what can I say.

After he told you “I had so much fun, I love you mommy, I love you daddy.” he fell asleep on you like 15 minutes into the movie he chose, but instead of carrying him in his room, you decided for living room sleepover.

You managed to change positions with Noah being the closest to the edge, you in the middle and then Milo. And in that moment, everything felt right, you laying between your boys, feeling protected from everything bad.

“I had fun tonight.” Noah whispered in your ear, while you felt the warmth of his body behind you.

“Me too.” You squeezed his arms that were gently laying around your waist.

“It’s moment like these that keep me sane when I’m away.” You heard bit of sadness in Noah’s voice, aware of how much he hated leaving you.

“I know Noah, me too. But Milo’s very understanding about things, so you don’t have to be sad. We will always wait for you to come home.”

“I know, and I’ll always come back home to you.”

“I love you, Noah.”

“I love you more.”

And with a final kiss from Noah you two fell asleep after the you all had the nicest evening in a long time.

[ladyelissarose]

‘Me & My Broken Heart’

Miguel O’Hara x Teen Spider-Woman Reader

Spider-Woman goes by - ‘Dulce’ means ‘sweet’ in Spanish.

Summary: Miguel finds a daughter in you.

Warnings: FLUFF. period. It’s very short but it’s cute

“All I need is a little love in my life... all I need is a little love in the daaaaaark... A little but I'm hoping it might kick start... Me and my broken heart... nah nuh nah nuh na na na..”

Miguel typed away on his numerous screens, trying to ignore the way you sounded from afar off... as you sang this song ‘Me & My Broken Heart’ for the 1 millionth time. It was a sweet melody to his ears, you sounded almost angelic and carried the chords and lines perfectly... but it was the lyrics that shot him to his soul and made his heart squeeze painfully.

He hadn’t let himself feel love for a very long time now.. and he desperately craved it. Especially when he had you around, yes you were a teenager, but he felt a special care for you, ever sense you saved his life when he first came to your universe. He hadn’t seen anyone do such for him in a long time. And it made him feel in a way he hadn’t felt in a while.. a fatherly love submerge him.

Now he always has an eye on you, making sure you were safe and sound, he guarded you like a father would. If he couldn’t get being a father to Gabriella right, then he’d be your guardian as best as he could.. back in your home you didn’t have a family anyways, you fended for yourself and worked hard in between your two lives. Being Spider-woman sacrificed your family.

So Miguel went as far as providing a home for you in your universe and paying for your early college classes, when you admitted to him you wanted to be a chemist. You told him it wasn’t necessary but he swore by his decision that it was, and that you deserved it after all you’ve done for your city.

You two ended up being around one another a lot, on missions and even in your civil lives, he’d come to see you and make sure no one was bothering you or just hang out around your favorite places.

Miguel would be quiet most of the time, but he was genuinely happy and invested in you as he watched you be care-free around him, with your talk about teenage drama from school to your silly pranks on him.

And when you were a little quiet he spoke to cheer you up or teach you something new, like making a mess with empanadas or a cool swinging trick.

At the end of the day he either had a new bruise from try skateboarding with you or a sharpie drawn heart or cheesy joke on his arm. But nonetheless he was a listening ear and wise voice to you too, and he protected you with his life.

Everyone knew Miguel had a special place for you, and they left it at that, not wanting to take away what he found peace in- even if he hardly showed it or ever admitted it. Ever so often they’d push you to be around him when he was the grumpiest, and you gladly stuck to his side like glue, even if he told you he didn’t want to hear your voice at all or tell you to sit where he couldn’t see you.

But that was only because he wanted to control himself from hurting you with words or actions, like when he tosses things out of anger or frustration. He knew he’d kill himself if he ever hurt you, you were his best little buddy, his ‘little me’ and shadow.

Although he kept you around for he found a sense of comfort at knowing your peaceful and sweet soul was around to calm his raging feelings. Even when seen and not heard- or vice versa.

And today he wasn’t feeling his best… today was Gabriella’s birthday. The anger and guilt he felt towards himself weighed heavier than anything he had ever carried. So he asked Lyla to nicely ask you to go on a mission check with Gwen, and to come back later.

Soon when he didn’t hear your sweet voice singing anymore, he broke out and tossed his stuff everywhere, shouting curses and blaming himself for screwing up, regretting what he did.

Amongst everything he tossed around, a sticky note got stuck to his arm, and seeing he bright pink paper on him caught his attention and he ripped it off, but his curiosity had his honey eyes reading it intently, not remembering if he had ever used such papers.

Miguel’s emotions swirled around like a angry hurricane in him, it was ready to swallow him while as he let himself drown, refusing to crawl out again. But.. the simple words he read off the note in your messy teenage handwriting, caught his heart in your grip before he went under.

‘All is not lost, hold onto what still yours.’

He released the breath he was clinging onto, believing it’d be his last, and he clutched the paper tightly against his chest, over his heart. Tears brimmed in his eyes, but he choked them away when he heard Lyla claim,

“She’s on her way in here Miggy, she finished her mission.”

He cleared his throat and huffed to himself, his heart wanting to see you again,

“Ok.. that’s fine.”

Not even a minute passed when he heard you skipping and humming the toon from earlier… and he couldn’t help but sing it himself, even if he didn’t remember all the words,

“all I need is a little love in my life... all I need is a little love in the mmm mmm... a lil’ but I hope it might kick start.. mm hmm mm hmm.”

———-

You had just walked in, when you heard the soft words being spoken with a rhythm, it was pretty good and calming.

Like a warm breeze on a cool day, it made a warm feeling seep into your chest as you embraced the peaceful atmosphere of it. You thought that it was perhaps one of the Spiderlings that was always singing around, for the voice was pretty smooth and came out like a low rumble, but it rocked your soul in a warm embrace.

You searched as you walked deeper into the lair, but it made you realized no one was around- not even Hobie Brown. It made you frown in confusion as to where it came from as you continued to hear the voice of what was deciphered to belong to a man, it made your heart swoon like when you danced in the rain or saw it puppy... it made you feel nice as it was your favorite song.

‘Sounds so beautiful...’

“all I need is a little love in my life... all I need is a lil’ mmmhm in the mmm mmm... a lil’ but I hope it might kick start.. mm hmm mm hmm.”

The last hum was a deep rumble from the heart out, it was like a sweet groan of a perfect motor that drove the perfect night drives. You've heard this comforting tone, though he never used it in a way to comfort others.. it was usually given when he was tired of someone or arguing. So it had clicked for you who it was, though it surprised you,

'Miguel.'

Quietly to not disturb him you swung up to his liar that was lifted high (which was usually like that when he didn't want to be bothered) but you just wanted to listen closely, not bother, so you were good right?

Once your feet touched the ground, you got a clear visual of him as you looked up to him, and your heart sunk. He was hunched over his desk, and in his hand he held onto the pink sticky not, holding on to it very tightly. The note appeared tiny in his hold, as his hands were larger than normal- not that it was bad of course ;)

His other hand delicately swiped the screens around as he looked at them all attentively. His face reflected off the screen, and you could see the most endearing, hearts took over the size of his pupils and he didn't look so dark as usual... pink practically covered his cheeks... even a soft smile made it on to his lips. A photo of him and you on a polaroid, the one you snapped while hanging off the Statue of Liberty that one evening.

You had on rare occasions seen Miguel’s sweet side, but that was only when he had a full tummy and was not being bothered by Hobie. But either way you cherished every part of him, he had become your father figure, with the harsh scoldings and comfortable silences. With the pat on the head or smacking your shoulder when the most ridiculous things came out of your mouth or actions- he meant the world to you.

As you drew closer, you remembered he didn’t have strong spider-senses, so you went with your gut, and let your intrusive thoughts win the best of you. Regardless of what he could do- it was Miguel.

Letting your hand extend towards him, you pushed on your wrists and webbed his back, hearing the web smack his brick-wall looking back, giggling when you heard him scowl nicely,

“What are you doing? I know it’s you Dulc- oh!”

You smiled to yourself and closed you eyes, sighing,

“I love you Miguel..”

You had pulled yourself against him, squeezing his waist tightly and leaning your head on his broad back- well like on his lower back, he was a giant compared to you. You could feel the way his muscles tensed as he sucked in a breath. It was like if he was afraid of touch- a strong, loving embrace, but slowly he let the air out from his lungs, and relaxed into you.. allowing himself to be loved and feel loved. His large hand rested on your little one, patting it gently, he then squeezed your hand and replied softly,

“I know you do Dulce... I know.”

His arm then came around behind him and grabbed onto the back of the collar of your suit, bringing you in front of him. You looked up to him right away, wanting to read him before he spoke, but you could hear his heart beat.. it was calm and steady, as he radiated peace and wore a small smile. Hope surged you as you mirrored his expression, a small ‘oof’ left your lips when he pressed the sticky note to your forehead, then pulled you in for a hug.

He cradled you close with his hands while you wrapped your arms around him once again, your head against his stomach this time, feeling his calm breathing an hearing his heart more clearly. It was the sound of home and undeniable peace. Miguel rested his hand on your head and the other reached your shoulders, where he pressed you closer to him.

You took in a deep breath and sighed happily, feeling safe and sound in him, knowing he was your safe haven and that he’d never let you go to be alone.

And Miguel smiled to himself, knowing he had you, confident that he would never let you slip away ever, and that you wouldn’t go either.. so with a tight squeeze he admitted,

“I love you too mija.” (Darling)

[gremlin-bot]

Sleep Deprivation Should Not Be The Reason Here

This is a prompt fill for this prompt from @stealingyourbones!!

Ao3 link: Here

Tim is fighting his body. The cursed thing needs sleep and he simply doesn't have the time for it. He just needs another day of being awake, he'll have the case closed by then and all the reports wrapped up. Wait, he has that investor meeting scheduled in what would be his recovery time. He can't push that back again. 

Tim blinks hard, pinching the bridge of his nose. He has been up for… three, no four days now. He entirely blames the death cult that had entered Gotham. If those bitches had just waited like a week to start shit he would have been fine, but no! Zatanna is off-world and Constantine has a curse on him that won't let him leave the house of mysteries, much less enter Gotham. Luckily, he can still call to get advice from both.

He can feel himself slipping into sleep like he can't fucking do. He snaps his eyes open and grabs for his 9th cup of coffee, only to find it empty. 

…

Fuck it! If this is how he has to live right now, he's gonna fucking change it! He can dabble with eldritch beings beyond comprehension too—and do it even better! 

The cult wasn't even up to date on what they were trying to summon. Unlike Tim, who just so happens to have gotten his hands on the instructions for the right summoning ritual for the Ghost King and was about to fucking use it.

He gets up from the Batcomputer and heads up to the kitchen to grab the supplies he needs. He was lucky Alfred was out grabbing groceries, otherwise he would have never been able to get anywhere near the older man's kitchen. He takes the leftover Alfredo from the fridge and puts it into a small pot to warm on the stove. All he needs now is to grab silver and gold sharpies, a small candle, and one of the giant rolls of paper he used to draft blueprints. If he was at his apartment he would just draw it on the floor, but he's not risking any more of Alfred's disappointment and wrath today.

He checks on the pasta, seeing that it's warm enough, then he prepares two bowls. If he was making a meal for an occult being he sure as hell was getting some himself. 

He puts the food aside and works on drawing the array in silver and gold. After he finished the center of the array he couldn't help but feel that it looked strangely familiar. Not that he has seen this exact array before this whole mess, but by the fact it looks like some type of writing he's seen… Holy fuck it's Gallifreyan. What kind of nerd is the ghost king if they are using Gallifreyan as their summoning array? 

He shakes his head. He needs to focus and finish adding the symbols on the outside of the Gallifreyan. He looks back at the instructions to make sure he was copying it correctly when he spots it. The last bit of this array is the First Ones language from She-ra. Tim has decided this is fine, and he just won't think about it. 

He was thinking about it.

Why was this summoning like this? No wonder the death cult doesn't have the right fucking summoning. Who in their right mind would think an extradimensional death deity would have their array be made out of fake fucking languages from different TV shows. He has so many questions that he doesn't have time for.

Tim takes a deep breath, clearing his mind the best he can. He just needs to get through this, ignore the fact that whoever set up the summoning ritual is a giant fucking nerd. He reads the next set of instructions. . . 

He is going insane, he is fucking sure of it.

The fucking instructions say that the array is in several different languages and that to finish the summoning he needs to translate. He then needs to say it out loud, starting from the outside going in. Looks like he'll need to break out the First One’s translator he has saved on his phone. Luckily, he has Gallifreyan memorized (for the most part). 

Tim sets the offering in the middle of the array, placing his own bowl on the floor next to him. He takes a deep breath. The translations weigh heavy on the tip of his tongue, despite how ridiculous all of this is. Now he just has to hold back his giggles.

“Pluto is a planet. Get fucked, losers.'' As the words enter the air the summoning circle grows a lazarus green. After a couple curious moments there's a popping noise, as if someone opened a wine bottle, and there is a figure sitting across from him. 

The figure is a humanoid male with short, shaggy white hair that blows in a nonexistent wind. Their long legs are crossed as they hover a few inches from the floor. The clothes weren't too strange, just a black tight fitting jumpsuit with gray accents. It showed off their lean muscles, which Tim shouldn’t be focusing on. He has a deal to make!!

Their burring green eyes gaze around the room before landing on the offered food. Their face lights up with a fanged grin. The other’s excitement was almost contagious as they start eating. Tim follows the other’s lead and dings in himself. God, Alfred’s cooking is so good.

“Oh, fuck yeah!! I was craving alfredo!” They say around a mouth full of food.

“I’m glad it was something you like. I was worried that you’d hate it and this whole thing wouldn’t work,” Tim’s voice seemed to snap the being to full attention.

“Shit. Sorry about getting distracted there. You summoned me?”

“Yeah, I want to make a deal to-” 

“Okay wait,” the white haired being interrupted. “Before we get into this I have to place some ground rules.” 

“Of course.” Tim expected this, Nothing came without compilation after all.

“Good, first I am allowed to deny any request and or offering. Second, all deals are final once fulfilled. Finally, anything relating to the manipulation of time is off limits. I’m still cleaning up from the last time I did one, and I’d just rather not deal with that,” the other said while gesturing with his hands almost spilling his bowl.

“Is that all?” Tim asked skeptically. 

“Yep! You can make your request now.”

“I want to not have to sleep ever again. I need to make myself clear with you on this, I still want to have the ability to sleep but for it to not be something that I need to do to live healthy,” Tim stares the (presumed) ghost in the eyes, waiting for their response.

“Oh, that’ll be no problem, but what will you offer in return?” They stare back at him, burning green into his soul.

Something in Tim knows that the king wouldn’t accept his soul as an offering. After all, they didn’t even ask for any blood in their summoning, why would they want something like that now. He has to think of something different and quick, Alfred should be home soon. He should have moved this out of the kitchen… Wait.

He has an idea.

“How about in return, I take you out to get food? It can be from anywhere you want in the whole world, just give me time to set up reservations.” Tim offers, hoping that’ll work.

“And you’ll be paying,” the other asks with a raised eyebrow and soft grin.

“Of course!” 

“Deal!! It’s a date,” Tim blinks a couple times before the meaning of the other’s statement fully hits him 

“Oh! Yeah it is. I’m Tim.” He offers out his hand.

“You can call me Danny. To most I'm High King Phantom—but you know that.” Danny banters, taking Tim’s hand. 

Their hands are bathed in green flames that warm Tim’s hands pleasantly. The deal has been struck, and Tim can’t help but notice the nervous excitement coming off the other man.

Tim likes him more already.

[cardentist]

"haha Wow can you Believe how crazy it is that jay outed tim's medical records?"

Hoody:

1: stole tim's records from when he was 8 years old, which meant that he had to Specifically and Intentionally track them down To steal them. from his house? Maybe, we certainly see him breaking into tim's house plenty. (though why would tim even still have those)

2: baited jay both in person and online implying that tim was lying to him (reminder, the last guy who lied to jay about his intentions tried to kill him with a gun and turned out to have tried to murder all of his friends. and tim himself had watched jay sleep, been in videos threatening him right before jay's apartment burned down, and tried to physically attack him.)

3: intentionally planted the records in a scary tunnel under the abandoned burned down mental hospital and lead jay there by the nose, going so far to write how much of liar tim is in big bold sharpie on the files themselves.

4: after all of this happened hoodie's immediate next step was to break into tim's house, steal his medication, and intentionally set off and film tim having a seizure and post it on the internet.

Hoodie leaked tim's medical records, he specifically and Intentionally baited jay into finding and documenting them because it proved that tim was lying about the slender haunting only starting recently for him.

and it's important to note that jay's response wasn't to get angry with tim, it was to Blame Himself and express empathy for tim.

it's Also worth noting that the majority of the records were redacted (including tim's Name), which is a point in favor of both jay And hoodie (hoodie still cares about tim, even if he's angry at him and willing to hurt him to push him towards what he thinks needs to be done).

moreover, jay's censored tim's last name before (several times, actually), just like he's censored amy and jessica's phone numbers. I think it's safe to assume that part of the reason why jay filmed it was because those details Were redacted (that and, of course, evidence keeps disappearing from his house and from his laptop. which means if he forgets about them and they're stolen then they're just gone- if there isn't some other record of them online, of course).

my point being, it burns my ass that people blame jay for this and hold it against him like it's the worst thing that he could've done, without ever holding it against hoodie.

I feel like this is a cross section of fans only holding characters accountable for what other characters get mad about (tim was Right to be angry at jay for it, but he didn't call out hoodie. probably because there'd be no point, he can't exactly hold him responsible. likewise jay Deliberately didn't get mad at tim about what he did as masky, at least not openly, so fans tend to not understand his perspective)

And fans holding jay to a different standard than they do other characters in general. whether it's because most of his personal information is on his twitter (secondary material people are less likely to go through, especially while watching), because his voice acting tends to be less emotionally charged (it was probably just that troy's acting was a little awkward, but I personally like to read him as autistic), Or because he's just generally not as cool.

either way, people tend to hold jay accountable for things they let tim and hoody off the hook for. and it's kind of Really insane in this case.

[oneforthemunny]

Thinkin' about carving pumpkins with Cowboy Eddie. (And by "carving pumpkins", I mean you draw faces on them and make him do all the dirty work. 😂)

"You're shittin' me." Eddie laughed, shaking his head when he looked at the pumpkin you passed him.

You frowned, looking at the Sharpie stenciled outline. "No." You pouted lightly. "What? What's wrong with it?"

Eddie blinked, scoffing lightly in amusement before bumming his cigarette in the tray on the porch. "Nothin', baby." He muttered, a dimpled grin that made you frown.

"You're making fun of me." You glared at him. "What? What's wrong with my pumpkin?"

"Nothin', baby. You just said it was gonna be easy." Eddie grinned, digging in his pant pocket for his pocket knife.

"This is easy." You insisted.

"Says you, darlin', 'm the one cuttin' it." Eddie smirked, taking the pumpkin from you, settling it between his legs.

"It's star eyes! That's it!" You gawk, throwing a hand out towards the outlined eyes of the pumpkin. "How is that any different from a regular one?"

"Because," Eddie grinned, far too amused for your liking. "Regular one is just a triangle."

"So?" You scoff, rolling your eyes at him lightly. "That's basically a triangle."

"That so?"

"Yeah," You hum, looking over at your design. "It's, like, a bunch of triangles."

Eddie howled in laughter, eyes shining when they looked over at you, the light from the porch illuminating your silhouette. You looked so pretty. He'd carve a million fucking pumpkins if you wanted him to.

"I got it." Eddie flicked the knife open.

You frowned. "I think you need a bigger knife."

"I think you need to let me work." Eddie countered, a light glare that had your tummy flipping in excitement. "Go get that scooper spoon thing." He nodded behind you, sawing through the pumpkin.

You reached towards the plastic, orange scooper, past the newspaper you laid out and the tiny carving tools that came with it- the ones Eddie scoffed at when you showed him. "Gonna need somethin' sharper than that, baby."

"You gonna get the guts out?" Eddie's eyes flicked to yours, biting back his grin of amusement when your nose crinkled.

"No."

"So he's keepin' them in?"

"No, Eddie." You huffed, voice coasting on a whine. "You scoop them out."

"You got me doin' all the work?" Eddie laughed, eyes shining up at yours.

"You said you would help me!" You countered. "And I'm not touching that. It'll get under my nails." You snarled, shaking your head in disgust, lips puckered like you ate something sour.

Eddie laughed, pulling the top off with the stringy contents, seeds and "guts" with them. "So they gotta go under my nails, huh?"

"You don't have nails." You nodded at his short, trimmed nails. Eddie barely had any, and you didn't blame him, not working with animals all day.

Eddie stopped, looking over at you with a goofy, lopsided grin. "Alright, I guess I'll do it f'ya." He purred. "If you do somethin' for me?"

You frowned lightly. "What?"

"Gimme a kiss now, maybe some head after it's done." He shrugged casually.

You fought back a grin and an eye roll. Fair enough, you were gonna do that anyways.

"Fine." You groan, feigning irritation, leaning towards him on the wooden planks of the porch.

Eddie's lips enveloped yours easily, tongue slipping past your teeth cheekily, until you were giggling, pulling back with a raised brow. "Gotta finish the pumpkin if you want me to suck you off." You nodded towards the pumpkin in between his legs, smug at how he blushed under the moonlight.

[ponett]

with the fallout of bandai namco's idiotic "it's up to interpretation" bs, do you think that it's possible to enjoy queer media made in a corporate environment in addition to independent works? is it even worthwhile to attempt making queer media in a corporate environment? i find it special how well the g-witch production team managed to tell the story they wanted even with the challenges and pressures they faced, but i have to admit that independent works like slarpg are always going to more completely tell queer stories. as someone who has resonated with both slarpg and g-witch, i was curious to know your perspective.

i'm probably less cynical about this than a lot of my peers are - not that i can blame anyone for feeling cynical about queer rep from corporate-owned media. (we've been through so many First Ever Gay Disney Characters at this point, and lord knows blizzard loves to tease that another overwatch character might be gay every year or so as a PR move.) unfortunately it's just extremely hard to get something like a full season of an animated series funded and produced independently, so the artists looking to enter these fields and pour their hearts and souls into meaningful queer stories as a full-time job don't have many options

going indie gives you theoretically endless creative freedom to tell your stories without corporate censorship, but it's also a massive gamble. only an extreme minority of indie creatives in any medium are actually able to make a living. the fact that i came out the other side of slarpg's development with enough money that i can keep being a full-time indie instead of being in massive debt makes me one of the lucky ones. and even with my modest success, i sure as hell don't have the money to hire a whole team, which limits the scope of what i can make. so i can't turn my nose up at the queer people writing disney channel cartoons where they can't say the word "gay" out loud. they have health insurance, i don't. for most people, what i do is simply not an option

with the corporate-produced Queer Stories i enjoy, i'm often able to squint and see what the creatives were trying to do, wishing that they could have done more while understanding that they probably had to fight tooth and nail for what's there

in the realm of children's animation in particular, i'm thankful that the people working at these studios ARE fighting for more, because it means that kids today have so many more positive queer stories to relate with. i didn't have a single gay character i felt i could relate to until i read scott pilgrim at age 16 and saw wallace wells. before that, i felt so alone in the world. i denied who i was for years because it felt like there would be no place for me. i didn't know anyone openly gay in real life, growing up in the south, and in fiction gay people either existed as the butt of a joke or not at all. the fact that queer kids are now able to see people like themselves in so many shows means something, even if we still have a long way to go and the big studios continue to be a major obstacle

on the subject of g-witch, i'm honestly unfazed by the statement from bandai-namco. i guess i wish they could've let suletta and miorine kiss, but like... the text of the show is extremely blunt about them being a couple by the end. it's not up for debate. and it's not like a gundam series having a meaningful story in spite of the wishes of the toy-producing overlords is anything new, this is just our latest example

all that being said, i do think people should branch out more and explore more weird indie shit if they want more wholeheartedly, openly queer stories. people gotta suck it up and embrace more outsider art instead of only valuing things with studio-level production values. start looking at ren'py visual novels, rpg maker games, obscure webcomics, zines drawn in sharpie, artists on bandcamp who aren't signed to a label, all that jazz. maybe part of the reason why i'm not more fazed by the state of affairs with corporate-funded fiction is that i'm constantly surrounded by furry artists who are telling their own little gay stories

[xoxozoro]

can i take your order?

synopsis: you are barista

characters: chifuyu, mitsuya, kazutora

genre: fluff

warnings: none.

masterlist.

chifuyu :

chifuyu was living a cliché. he knew it, his friends knew it and probably all of the regular customers of the small coffee shop knew it.

but could you really blame him?

you were just so... pretty...

with your lips of a lively pink, your cheeks full and bright, your eyes so mesmerizing that he could stare at them for hours and your hair that were pulled back into two messy braids with your loose strands of hair that swept back and forth over your face.

what was there to not like about you?

"chifuyu...? are you there?"

your angelic voice brought him back to earth, his cheeks covered of a small red hue at the sound of his name coming from your mouth, "y-yeah?"

you let out a soft chuckle at his stuttering, a smile plastered on your lips, "the usual?"

"yes, please"

he first started to talk to the pretty girl behind the counter when he first found the coffee shop. ever since that day, after weeks of trying to figure out your work schedule, chifuyu showed up every morning when you worked, ordered the same thing every time and spent half an hour talking to you.

"say 'fuyu, you own a pet shop right?" you asked, writing his name on a cup with a sharpie.

"yeah! it's the one down the streets" chifuyu confirmed, paying his order and putting a generous amount of yen in the tip jar.

you continued scribing down on the cub making him frown, his name was not that long to write... "so if i wanted to adopt a little kitten, i could come see you right?"

chifuyu's eyes widened at your words, a bigger smile on his lips, "yeah, you totally could! actually there's a cat that makes me think of you every time i look at it."

it took him a second to realize what he had just said, but when he realized he quickly look away from you, missing the red on your face.

"well," you spoke again, trying to ignore the burning sensation on your face, "we should get coffee together sometimes… so you can tell me more about the cat that makes you think of me."

"uh?" chifuyu looked at you once more, grabbing the cup you were handing him your fingers brushing with his in the process.

"call me" you smiled at him before turning around to take the order of another customer, the coffee shop being abnormally filled for a thursday morning.

the boy looked down at his cup, and if he wasn't blushing before, he surely was now.

chifuyu♡ 178-003-0000

falling in love in cafés was so damn cliché.

mitsuya :

"mitsuya! i was starting to think that you weren't gonna come today!" you smiled at the pretty boy in front of you.

the boy smiled as you started to enter his regular order on the computer, "come on, you know i can't start my day without looking at your pretty face."

"you guys disgust me." a voice rang from behind you. you rolled your eyes at your coworker.

"stop it! they're so cute together!" your other coworker, kyo, an hopeless romantic, squealed at the scene.

you shook your head at the two, "we're not dating, kyo."

"not yet" mitsuya mumbled quietly, glad that you didn't hear him say that.

"please," kyo rolled her eyes, "you rejected the hotness guy in the world yesterday, because 'you had a boyfriend'- so try to tell me that you weren't talking about pretty boy over here."

mitsuya widened his eyes at what he just heard, what guy?

you scoffed at your friend, "he was the dumbest boy i've ever met, he even bumped into an old lady! plus i've got my eyes on someone else"

"wonder who that would be?" your "against any form of love" coworker sarcastically said.

the boy frowned as he sat down on a booth beside the window, living you with your friends. when he thought he had forgotten about the guy asking you out yesterday a loud irritating voice echoed in the small shop, disturbing the calm atmosphere of the place.

"come on babe," a tall guy with a buzzcut was leaning against the counter looking at you with a cocky smile, "just give me a chance."

"like i told you yesterday," you tried to keep your calm and politely rejected him, once again, "i have a boyfriend."

"i don't see him anywhere~" he pushed once more.

"he's behind you." mitsuya stood behind him, his coffee long forgotten on a table, the other guy turned around to look at him, "i get that you have a little crush on my girl, but we have a plane to catch... so flirt with her when she gets back, yeah?"

the former gang member gave you a look making you mumbled a quick "be right back" to your friends, before joining your 'boyfriend' in front of the tall guy.

"let's go, love" he place a hand on your lower back leading you outside the shop, then to his car. he then opened the passenger door for you to take a seat, closed the door, before walking to take a seat in the driver seat.

"um... where are we going?" you asked as mitsuya started to drive away from your work place.

"at the airport"

"okay... but why?"

"we have a plane to catch."

"a plane to go where, exactly?"

the boy glanced in your direction a smirk on his face, before grabbing your hand in his. he brought your intertwined hands to his mouth and placed a small kiss on your knuckles, "we're going on a date, princess."

you glanced at your intertwined hands before looking at him, when did driving a car became so attractive?

"with a plane? where are we going for that date exactly?"

he gave your hand a small squeeze, "anywhere you'd like."

kazutora :

"if you keep staring at her like that she might call the cops on you, you know?" baji's voice brought kazutora out of his trance.

the boy quickly snapped his head away from you, looking at his two friends, "god- she's so pretty..." he banged his head on the table his cup of hot chocolate in hand.

chifuyu glanced over kazutora's shoulder, taking a sip of his coffee, "so that's why you wanted to close the shop earlier... to stare at a girl from afar?"

"yeah, man!" baji agreed, "there closing in like- 5 minutes and all you've been doing is look at her and giggle like a little girl."

the lover boy rose his head from the table, begging them to quiet down, "you can just yell that when she's just behind us! and besides i'm not here to look at her... i'm here to enjoy a coffee with my friends."

The friends in question shared a look, "yeah no, you're totally here just for the girl."

kazutora groaned, banging his head on the table once more.

"she's still in school right?" chifuyu asked watching you doing homework on the counter.

"yeah... she's a med student"

"a studen~" baji smirked at his friend, "damn you are some kinky bastard-!"

kazutora hurriedly placed his hand on the boy's mouth, preventing to say anything else, "she's 24! and stop yelling!"

"oh~ she's walking over here- act normal." chifuyu stated making the boys straighten up, trying to look as normal as possible.

"kazu? you coming?" your soft voice rang through the air like honey.

"...kazu...?" baji and chifuyu looked at his friend, who's face became redder after each passing seconds.

"y-yeah!" the said boy got up from his seat, glancing at his two puzzled friends.

baji stood up from his seat, "wait- where are you going?!"

chifuyu grabbed the boy's arm, trying to force him back in his seat, "baji-! don't-"

"we have a date!" you smiled at the two, your hand lazily wrapped around kazutora's arm.

"...a date?"

"yeah..." the lover boy looked away from the pretty girl, "i brought you guys with me so i wouldn't look dumb while waiting for her to finish her shift."

he mumbled a small "see ya" to his friends, before placing a hand on your lower back, leading you outside the small coffee shop.

"so..." you looked up to the boy, a cocky smile on your face, "how's my "kinky bastard" doing?"

lowering his face in defeat, his face reddening at your words, "please don't say that..." your laughter echoed in the quiet street, sounding like a melody to the boy's ears.

"god i feel so used..." baji grumbled walking in the opposite direction of the two love birds, along side chifuyu.

"you'll get over it." his friend patted his back, rolling his eyes at his dramatic dementor.

note: this is my first writing so please be nice!

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

Random HC's About The Cast's Parents

As it sounds. Other Family Headcanons can be found here. Warning, some of these are angsty, including reference substance abuse. Also no Diasomnia bc. like I need to WAIT, no spoilers please

Heartslaybul Parents

Carlotta Rosehearts owns dozens and dozens of health and medical textbooks, but before she let Riddle read them, she went over passages that she didn't agree with in Sharpie.

The Clovers were high-school sweethearts, Trey having been conceived when his mom was 16. Her side of the family is from Harveston. After his father was disowned by his family, her mom let them move in. As a community they raised enough money to help them open a small bakery in the Queendom of Roses, supplying them with free apples for the first few years until they were well established.

Regina Diamond and her (name undecided) husband got into a relationship early on in college, and got married only four weeks later as his family was well off and happy for him to have found someone, and she had made up a sob story about her family disowning her when she had really been the one to cut off her very concerned, very caring family. Their relationship became sour very quickly, but he didn't feel like he could leave once she revealed she was pregnant with their eldest daughter.

Delia Spade's late husband was also her high school sweetheart, but they waited a few years before deciding they wanted their family to grow. She hated that he was in the military, so when he was called to serve a month into her pregnancy, she had a sinking feeling that she wouldn't be seeing him again...and she was right. At least with the military, when Deuce was born deaf/hoh she had a little bit of extra support financially, but ultimately decided she would rather not have ties with the organization that cost her child's father's life. She moved in with her late husband's mother for the first four years of Deuce's life, until she found a small house she could afford on her own for her and Deuce.

Clark Trappola is a severe alcoholic with a gambling problem. Jack (Ace's big brother) spent most of his at home life acting as a buffer between his dad and Ace. Their father blames the loss of their mother on Ace's birth, so they do not get along. For the years that Jack was at NRC, Ace spent crashing at other friends houses, or when he absolutely had to, in the attic of his house because he knew their dad wouldn't find him up there. (Jack helped him renovate it before he left). As soon as Jack graduated, he was able to find a place to rent with a few other graduates, and let Ace move in. Savanaclaw Parents

We already know that the Kingscholars were not the most attentive or fair of parents, but Leona had a maid named Lesedi who absolutely adored him, and treated him like it. He adores her, and sees her as more of a maternal figure than his biological mother. She's very old and retired now, but she is the first person he sees willingly when he gets home, and has made sure she is given the highest quality of care the royal family has to offer. She's also very blunt and to the point, and was never afraid of disciplining the young prince.

Ruggie was raised by his grandma, but that was because his lesbian mothers were....one of them cheated and he was living proof. Ultimately, his mother decided she couldn't care for him the way he deserved to be cared for and gave him to her own mother.

Jack's parents couldn't be more polar opposite of each other. His mother is tiny, she has really thick, curly hair, very expressive, and pretty eccentric. His father is rather stoic and hard to read, always having a rather unimpressed look on his face. and built like a tank. His dad used to be a pro wrestler, but now he's part of a motorcycle "gang" that rides to raise money for amputee/accessibility inclusivity and rights, and his mom hosts art shows for the same reason. This is because Jack's aunt- (his Dad's brother's sister) was in an accident that resulted in her prosthetic arm. Octavinelle Parents

Azul was raised by his mother and his grandma (insert dark joke about his mom and grandma having eaten their mates) who absolutely ADORE him, he can do no wrong. His grandma's UM is called Siren's Song, which allows her to pick up on the true desires of an individual...which in turn allows her to offer the most appealing services to them, or how to make someone so driven just by indulging in the desires they have. His mom is magicless, but has the most gorgeous voice under the sea. The restaurant under the sea is also connected to a casino, which has a lot of the Leech's uh...Help to run.

The Leech parents are adorable, childhood friends to lovers, and yes they have a vial of each others blood on a string around their necks because that's what you do if you really love each other right? They're unhinged in everything, including the way they love. Jade takes after his father, Floyd takes after his mother. Scarabia Parents

Kalim's parents....well his mother, Adrika, was and is very doting but gets easily distracted. She is heavily involved in the textiles industry of the Scalding Sands. While she could leave tailoring and whatnot to her servants, for Kalim, she chooses to create all of his formal (?) outfits for him from scratch. She always manages to hide an tiger face in the stitching somewhere so as to give him a little extra surprise to look forward to.

Jamil doesn't consider his parents to be his parents. They've treated him like a tool since he was young, and he practically raised Najma on his own while they worked. He understands the sacrifices they had to make, but can't excuse the way he was treated. He treats them like acquaintances, and because of this, the little Jamil in my brain does not want to tell me anything about his parents. Pomefiore Parents

Vil's father is not only famous for directing (or whatever it is in canon), but he's a famous classical music compose (yes bc for some reason I immediately associated him with Eric Whitacre shhhhhh)

Rook's parents are both extreme hoarders. He hates talking about himself or home as a result. The siblings he has, he's never met because of the age gap between him and them being over 16 years. He used to pretend he would go on trips around the world with them as a means of escaping his reality.

Tanya and Adam Felmeir have an annual tradition to celebrate their wedding anniversary. They've always wanted to include Epel as a part of it, so at the beginning of the year he assigns them an animal, and by the time their anniversary rolls around they've both made tiny hand-carved figurines of said animal. The past few years have been difficult for his mother as she has been battling an undiagnosed illness, so he's been her hands and sits and carves with her until she's happy with the product so she still has something nice to give to her husband, Ignihyde Parents

Mama Shroud used to be part of a different research lab for blot, investigating the effects of blot on the human body more than the progression of blot and how to contain it. Her parents and Idia's paternal grandparents lowkey pushed their kids to Chat. As they did, they realized that they found each other's research fascinating and resulted in years of pining between the two of them until Mama Shroud finally just kissed her now husband. Also, Idia is not their first born child, he's just the one that survived. Diasomnia Parents I ain't getting into this sorry. I'm sorry. I can't. No spoilers of my queen in the tags ok?? or of anything chapter 7 related. Thank You

[they-call-me-emmy]

Memories - Tara Carpenter

I'm using da lyrics from 'Memories' by my angelic sweet angel face Conan Gray. I worship him. Thank you.

i dont even know how to classifiy this or whatever but lie eyhahh

yey.

It's been a couple months That's just about enough time For me to stop crying when I look at all the pictures

The Polaroids on your bed sheet. The small, scribbled dates in blue sharpie on the back. The way you genuinely looked happy in the photo. The way your own face looked back at you. The way her face looked back at you. It's been months. Get over it. That's what your friends tell you. What your family tells you. What you tell yourself.

Now I kinda smile, I haven't felt that in a while It's late, I hear the door Bell ringing and it's pouring

Tears well up in your eyes, blurring your vision and causing the lights to disable it completely. You needed to put these pictures down. Throw them away, lock them up, anything. Anything to make you stop looking. The sad, sarcastic laugh escapes your throat and you feel weird the moment it comes out.

You jump as the doorbell rings. You don't know who it could be. Its raining outside, you can hardly see the streetlamps. Your wearing the same baggy, stained shirt you'd been wearing for the previous week and a half. It might have been hers, you honestly can't remember.

You stumble to the door, opening it and feeling your eyes widen.

I open up that door, see your brown eyes at the entrance You just wanna talk and I can't turn away a wet dog

"Tara." You say, a slight twinge of coldness to your tone, although you were too shocked and hurt to muster up enough to shoot at her.

"Y/n." She said softly, the same tone as yours but the coldness replaced with what normally you would label as guilt. But Tara doesn't feel guilty....does she?

"Can I..." You clear your throat, willing yourself not to shout or cry or blame her for everything. It takes a lot of strength to not shut the door in her face, but you've always had a soft spot for her. "Can I help you?"

"I just...I just want to talk." She stares at her feet.

"Oh."

"Okay."

But please don't ruin this for me Please don't make it harder than it already is I'm trying to get over this

You can't have this girl ruining everything. Barging back in, to 'talk'. But you knew. You knew how much you wanted her back. But you're working for it. Working on getting over it. You're trying, you really are, but fuck. It might not be working. She's making this harder by coming here, bugging you. If she'd let you be, you'd forget about her, at some point.

Right?

I wish that you would stay in my memories But you show up today, just to ruin things I wanna put you in the past 'cause I'm traumatized

You wanted to forget. Have it all gone. Burn those fucking photos. But she's here, and she's real, and she's talking about how sorry she is, how her life is a mess and she needs a place to stay. And you can't do it now, you couldn't do it before and certainly not when she's crying in your living room. But you needed to get over her. You were scared.

But you're not letting me do that, 'cause tonight You're all drunk in my kitchen, curled in the fetal position Too busy playing the victim to be listening to me when I say

She's been drinking. The daze in her eyes and her wobbly movements and speech would show that to anyone. She's crying, telling you she left you for your own sake, that she didn't mean it and she was just having a hard time with life.

But now you were having a hard time. Because of her. And here she was, drunkenly crying to you. And here you were, letting her back in, for what? What're you getting out of this?

But you just can't turn her away.

"I wish that you would stay in my memories" In my memories, stay in my memories

"Tara, it's not right. You should leave. You're in my past. Go."

"G-God, please Y/n...d-don't k-kick me out-t." She sniffled, and her big brown eyes filled with more tears and suddenly you felt guilty, like kicking a bird from it's nest. But this wasn't her place. She didn't live here, you weren't with her. She had no right to stay.

But for some crazy reason you'd definitely regret in a day, you let her stay.

Now I can't say goodbye if you stay here the whole night You see, it's hard to find an end to something that you keep beginning Over and over again

"Can I stay over?" She asked you softly, her eyes wide and you couldn't say no.

Why can't you ever say no?

You knew that you'd never leave her behind if she kept coming back, forcing her way back into your heart. You knew you'd never get over her when she's laying on you couch like she used to, eyes closed and a sweet, innocent aura surrounding her sleeping figure.

I promise that the ending always stays the same So there's no good reason in make believing that we could ever exist again

You weren't ever going to go back to the way it was. She needs to stop trying. There's nothing in your favor. In your relationships favor. There's nothing that makes you two an important couple. You were just two people. You couldn't be with her anymore. That ship had sailed, and relationships never last through the second round.

I can't be your friend, can't be your lover Can't be the reason we hold back each other from falling in love With somebody other than me

You couldn't be her friend, it's too much to bear. The knowledge that you'd been with her, felt her, held her and loved her was too much. And she knew that. You couldn't be her girlfriend again. That hadn't worked out the first round, why would you suffer to try to survive the second? But she can't feel a connection, no, because then, she'd be stuck pity filled and guilty, and she too, just like you, would never move on and never find love. But it can't be with you, and it will never be because god fucking dammit that didn't work out and you ruined your chance. She ruined your chance.

She ruined this for you, and there was no going back. There was no fixing what had been broken.

And for that, she deeply regretted.

I clearly cannot write sad stuff

please comment because those are my favorites <3

[littl-snail]

Jacques Little Painters

Part 1

In a dingy Pensacola neighborhood lived a prostitute named Nancy and her two mentally disabled children, Jeffy and Feebee. Those children were Nancy's livelihood, their monthly disability checks were more than enough to support her addictions. And Jeffy's father was a famous painter who, for reasons unbeknownst to Jeffy himself, would never visit. He did, however, send child support checks that further filled Nancy's greedy pockets.

With those income sources coupled with Nancy's sex work, she was making enough money to have her children living in a safer neighborhood, eating food that was good for them, and drinking clean water. Unfortunately, Nancy didn't care about anything that'd enrich their lives. She gave them the bare minimum at best, and at worst, she tried her damnedest to make their already miserable lives even more miserable.

At least Jeffy and Feebee had each other. Being her older brother, he protected her from their mommy's beatings. He took the fall for her whenever he could. However, he always beat himself up about not being able to protect her from her other abuser. A pedophile named CJ who'd been assaulting poor Feebee since she was a toddler.

He felt it was his duty to keep her safe no matter what and felt guilt when he failed, too innocent to know that the blame fell solely on their mommy. She not only knew that Feebee was being sexually abused from the start, she was the one who encouraged it the moment she realized CJ desired her own child more than herself. Whilst at the same time, being harder on Feebee for being “fast” around her client.

She was only a child. It wasn't her fault that a grown man ogled at her whenever she played with her dolls while her mommy worked.

He was only a child. It wasn't his fault that he got violently angry every time that grown man hurt his little sister.

Why were they punished for these things? Why did their mommy hate them so? They'd learn the answers to these questions on a gloomy winter evening. Their mommy was sleeping in her recliner whilst the two siblings pointed out things in a toy catalog they'd gotten in the mail.

Jeffy circled a RC monster truck in black Sharpie with a big grin on his face. Feebee rested her head on his shoulder while fidgeting with her skirt, her smile suddenly faltering.

“I hope mommy at least gets us one toy this year…” she mumbles.

Jeffy turned to his little sister and put an arm around her shoulder. “Even if she doesn't, it'll be okay! We can make paper snow like we did last year and play” he says with a hum in his voice.

Feebee’s gaze narrowed at his response, which she responded to with a painful question. “But if she doesn't, what's…what’s the point in being good?” Jeffy's brow raised and he asked, “What do you mean?”

The girl took in a shaky breath and mumbled out, “We- we’re bad a little bit, but we get gooder and gooder. But mommy doesn't give us anything. She gets mad at us when we ask for food, a-and when we say the water is foggy she gets mad too. She won't give us toys neither…so…so…what's the point?”

Registering every heartbreaking word, Jeffy responded honestly, “I don't know…”

Tears filled his blue eyes which he roughly wiped away. “Are you okay?” Feebee asks him. “I’m fine” he grumbles, before pulling the girl into a rough hug. Her whole body tensed up for just a second, before relaxing in her big brothers safe arms. “We deserve toys” says with a huff, “Mommy’s just mean.”

In the middle of their cuddle, there was a knock at the front door. Both children froze and Feebee cowered behind her older brother, shaking madly. Their mother didn't wake and the knocking persisted. “Let’s just ignore them. Maybe they'll go away” Jeffy whispers.

The siblings covered their mouths in case the person outside could hear them breathe from the front porch. Usually those people would leave after a minute or so of no response, but this person was determined. They, presumably a man, called out “Nancy! I need to speak with you!”

His French accent was unlike anything the pair had ever heard. It was, however, familiar for their mother because her bloodshot eyes popped right open at the sound of it. With a snort and a slurp of her own slobber, she got up and hobbled to the front door. “I’m comin’! Quit yer knockin’!” she hollers.

Jeffy and Feebee gave each other quizzical looks before cautiously turning their attention to their mommy and the door. She didn't open the door up enough for the children to see and she flirtatiously leaned against the doorway.

“Couldn’t get enough of me huh?”

The man outside, dressed in a black and white striped sweater, black leather shoes, and a matching black beret, scowled at the sleazy woman. He took his cigar from his lips and blew his smoke directly in her face before saying, “Stop with ze jokes. I’m here to see the boy.”

This man was Jacques Pierre François. A world renowned painter born and raised in France. His paintings, no matter how rushed, always sold for millions. In the eyes of the elites that idolized his skill, he wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this.

Nancy's thin brows raised and she scoffed, “Why do you wanna see him all of a sudden? You haven't cared about seeing him for his whole existence!”

The man’s eyes narrowed further and he yelled back at her. “Haven’t you seen all the bullshit being spread on the news lately!? People are losing their fame because of what they do to their children! If someone were to find out I don't care for the boy, then what do you think will happen to my fame and fortune? I won't be able to live it down!”

Jacques heaved in a heavy breath and stepped away from Nancy, seeing the agitation growing on her hideously deformed face. His mouth ran without him and against his better judgment, he snapped “This is all your fault anyway-”

“My fault?” Nancy snarled, making Jacques flinch. “You’re the dumbass Frenchman who accepted a drink from a stranger! Hell, even coming into my house was stupid! It was natural selection at that point!”

The man took another drag of his cigar, his free hand clutching his chest. His cheeks were flushed because part of him believed that Nancy was in the right about him being an idiot. Jacques walked into the lion's den and it's been his biggest regret since. Her words brought him back to that horrific night and he was nearly sent into a panic.

Nancy grinned as she drank in the sight of his fear. “Glad we can agree on something” she cruelly spat. “Anywho, you can take the little fucker another day. Give him a week or so.”

Exhaling the gray smog did nothing to fog those gray memories. So, Jacques reminded himself that he was a man, and like the man he was, he straightened up and put his foot down. “I came all the way to this shitty country from France, I'm not leaving without ze boy.”

Nancy tried to argue and keep the man at the door, but he shoved past her and was able to see the state of Jeffy and…a little girl? He knew Nancy was capable of evil, but to leave children in such a horrific state was something else. He was mortified when he saw the interior of their filthy house, even dirtier than the last time he walked inside. And the bruises on their skin. How they trembled in silence rather than being loud and rowdy like children were supposed to be.

Jacques couldn't find words to describe how disgusted he was with Nancy.

“Jeffy and his sister got into a bike accident today” she explained in her best mom voice. “Mommy told you little rascals not to ride your bicycles on the roof and you did it anyway, right?”

Jeffy and Feebee nodded their heads in unison, robotically, they were so clearly afraid. Their compliance was enough for Nancy to think her obvious lie was convincing. With clasped hands, she smiled at Jacques and batted her eyelashes, feigning innocence.

Jacques stood frozen, his fair skin becoming paler as he continued to stare into their sad eyes. “You sick or somethin?” Nancy asked him, before Jacques hunched over and vomited on the floor.

“Oh come on! You jackass!” she screeched, as if her floor wasn't already rancid. She gritted her teeth and stomped the hallway to get a towel. Leaving her children with a man they didn't know.

When Jacques took a step towards them, Jeffy stood up and said “Don’t touch my sister.”

The man paused again, what did Jeffy mean by touch? He felt bile rising in his throat once again, but he held it down this time. “I won't, I would never” he assures the boy. Jeffy was still on guard.

Jacques understood Jeffy's protectiveness and stayed put. “Has your mother told you about me?” he asks Jeffy, his voice slightly muffled by his cigar hanging from his mouth as he respectfully takes off his hat. The boy shook his head and asked, “Who are you?”

Sweat rolled down Jacques face at Jeffy's question. Judging by how he reacted upon being left alone with him, he definitely wouldn't be excited about another male entering his life. Especially one who, to his knowledge, never did anything for him throughout his entire life. He had to introduce himself in a way that at least softened every word. There was no way to avoid sounding like a deadbeat father.

‘Spit it out already’ he told himself, gripping his beret a bit harder. “I’m your father, Jeffy,” he says, watching the boy's blue eyes widen along with his little sisters.

“You’re my daddy…? Really?”

Jacques nods his head.

“Are you Feebee's daddy?”

Jacques hesitated to answer that until he saw the sullen look on Feebee's face. So, he nodded again, causing her to perk up and smile bright.

Jeffy ran to his daddy, hugging him tightly. Jacques was shocked at his strength, feeling as if the child could lift him up with ease. He hugged Jeffy back though, while also feeling grateful he held no resentment towards him. Lord knows nobody could blame him if he did.

Jacques looked up and saw Feebee, now standing. She was fidgeting with her skirt and watching them longingly.

The man held his arm out, a gesture for her to join the hug that she didn't reciprocate. She only stood there nervously before plopping back down the moment Nancy returned with a small rag in her hand. Her nose scrunched up in disgust at their affection as she shoved the rag into Jacques hand.

Jacques sighed and let go of the boy, crouching down to attempt to clean his vomit with the small rag.

Jeffy watched and leaned to the side curiously, studying the man's face. They looked alike and that solidified his naive, immediate belief that this man hadn’t lied about being his dad. “Daddy, are you gonna live with us?” he asks with a grin. Jacques hugged him, mommy never did that. If Jacques stayed here then life would be much better.

Nancy butted in with a snide remark, “He ain't been here in nine years. What do you think?” Jeffy frowned and Jacques became frustrated. Frustrated because he couldn't say what he wanted to say in front of the children. He could only let out that frustration by ferociously scrubbing the floor. Cleaning even a portion of the floor without a hazmat suit and some powerful bleach was an uphill battle.

He picked up the vomit soaked rag and gasped when he saw the mushed body of a cockroach in the threading. He dropped the rag immediately and turned to Nancy, “I need a bigger towel. Zis little one is just pushing the mess around.” Nancy rolled her eyes but thankfully left the room to get another without fighting.

Jacques turned his attention back to the children when Feebee asked, “So are you going to live with us or not?”

His brows knitted and he muttered, “No I'm not.-” His eyes narrowed as he glanced around the awful space, taking it all in again. ‘I can't leave them here’ he tells himself, feeling his heartbeat quicken as he puts himself in these scared children's shoes. To knowingly leave them here with Nancy would make him just as evil.

“You’re not going to live here anymore either” he says, keeping his tone hushed so Nancy wouldn't hear.

The children's eyes went wide. “Wh-what do you mean?” they asked in unison, as Feebee hurriedly got behind her big brother for protection.

“I’m not going to let you two live in such a terrible place. I can't.”

Jacques held out his hands for the children to hold. Jeffy wasn't hesitant to walk over to his father and take his hand. Feebee had to follow because she couldn't bear living here without her big brother, which attested to Jacques beliefs about how Nancy treated them. She didn’t hold Jacques’ hand though. Instead, she held onto her brothers shirt.

Jacques hurriedly led Jeffy and Feebee out of the house just as mommy was returning. She screamed for the children, mostly Jeffy, and ran after them. Smoking and drinking with a side of more smoking didn’t do Nancy's body any favors. Screaming while running knocked all the wind out of her tortured lungs in only a few steps.

She collapsed in the lawn, her knees further crushing a cigarette that'd been carelessly dropped amongst the other filth that'd piled up around her home, as she watched Jacques’ silver Volkswagen Beetle peel off through a blur of tears. In her eyes, it was like watching her wallet grow legs and run away from her.

She wasn't going to let Jacques get away with this.

[dylan-duke]

https://www.tumblr.com/dylan-duke/755942832221667328/nora-breaking-a-bone-or-getting-really-hurt

Nora coming back after getting her cast. Holding a sharpie in her hand going up to everyone asking them to sign except Luke because he was with her when she got her and she’s mad at him, putting her injury blame on Luke. Not on what she shouldn’t have been doing. Maybe??

we love giving Nora and Lukey angst here

"ok i found a sharpie," jack says as he walks into nora's room, "now where do you want me to sign?"

"here!" she says pointing at a spot on the top of her cast right where the top of her hand is,

"alrighty," the middle child says writing uncle jacky in loopy letters,

"hey!" luke interrupts, "why didnt i get an invite to the signing party?" nora frowns,

"no," nora says. luke and jack both freeze,

"nora honey-" jack starts, "you can't just not let uncle lukey sign your cast,"

"no owie," she says. jack turns to his niece,

"nora you are being very mean to uncle lukey apologize right now and let him-"

"no," luke cuts in, "its ok. it was partly my fault, she'll get over it eventually,"

[gxldenlush]

Bullies || n.s

pairing: bff!nick x fem!reader

summary: Nick is there for y/n through thick and thin. When he finds out she’s getting bullied at school, he does his best to help her.

warnings: mentions of bullying, name calling, crying, use of y/n, swearing, blood/injuries, random name for bully

a/n: ❗️purely platonic❗️, y/n is in her last year of highschool, nick is still 20 (2 years between them), I wrote this at work so it’s not entirely proofread, also sorry to all the Mayas 😭

pink=y/n

purple=nick

orange=chris (he’s only in the beginning sorry😓)

༻☙✽༺

“Oh my god, look what Emily posted on her snapchat” Chris turns his phone around to show Nick a video. A girl stood in shock, teary-eyed as she reads horrible insults that have been scribbled onto her locker.

“slut”

“whore”

“clout chaser”

“fugly”

The insults go on until the entire locker door is filled with the black sharpie. At the end of the video, the girl turns and runs out of frame, her face just catching the camera as she escapes the laughs.

Nicks heart drops to his feet when he recognises the broken girl. “Chris, that’s y/n.”

“What? No way. If someone was picking on her, she would’ve told us, right?”

Nick doesn’t even spare his brother a reply as he grabs his phone and orders an uber. Five minutes away, great. He pulls his shoes on and gets a hoodie from his bedroom.

“Going to y/n’s! Don’t know when I’ll be back!” He calls to his brothers as he makes his way to the front door.

—

Nick jumps out of the car before the uber even stops fully, thanking the driver on his way out.

He rushes to y/n’s front door, her parents’ cars aren’t in the driveway indicating that she’s home alone. He knocks on the door constantly, calling out her name and calling her phone.

The door opens a crack, when the person on the other side realises that it’s only Nick, y/n opens the door the whole way. Before he can even register the bruise on her cheek, she rushes to him, hugging him tight.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. I saw what happened” He rubs soothing circles on her back. “Let’s go inside”

Y/n nods and turns into the house. It isn’t until Nick has walked into the house and y/n has closed the door and turned to face him, that he sees the black eye and busted lip.

“Holy shit, y/n! Did someone beat you up?”

“No, I threw the first punch… I’m suspended for a month”

“You got in a fight?” She nods “Where’s your first aid kit? That’s gonna get infected”

“I already cleaned it. You didn’t have to come all this way for me, you know. I’m fine…”

Nick sighs and grabs his best friends hand, pulling her to the living room and plopping himself down on the couch, pulling her down to sit next to him.

“Y/n listen, you are my best friend, and I love you. So, if you are sad, or hurt, or even hungry! I will always be there to help you out, got it?”

The girl nods and laughs at his words. “I got it, thank you… How did you see what happened?”

“Some girl on Chris’ snapchat put a video on her story… you know those things aren’t true, right?”

“I know, it just hurts that people think that of me, you know? I used to be friends with her and now she’s just-”

“Horrible? Awful? A total mega bitch?” Nick fills in the gaps

“Yes, yes and yes” She laughs.

“Wait, you used to be friends? Who was it?”

“Remember Maya? I told you about her a while ago, we were practically attached at the hip in middle school?”

“Her? Really? What the fuck is her problem?”

Y/n knows the exact reason why Maya hates her. She doesn’t want to tell Nick, as it might hurt his feelings.

“She- uhm…”

“It’s because you’re friends with me, Chris and Matt, isn’t it?” His words are soft, as though he blames himself.

“She’s just jealous that I’m friends with you and she isn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? It’s her fucking problem. Dumb bitch can’t even keep her jealousy to herself? That’s pathetic! I hate bullies.”

Nick notices y/n biting at her lip in worry, re-opening the cut on her lip in the process. A small droplet of blood falls from her lip, Nick winces at the sight. He hates blood.

“You’re bleeding again, you want a tissue?”

Y/n dabs her lip with her finger, looking at the blood that transfers. “Oh shit, yeah. Sorry Nick.”

“It’s no problem, I’ll be right back”

Nick leaves the room and comes back with some toilet paper, he hands it to the girl and she daps at her bleeding lip again. “Thank you”

“I have an idea. I don’t know if you’ll like it though”

“You’re ideas scare me”

“This one’s good, I promise!”

“Then why won’t I like it?” A skeptical tone laces the younger girls voice.

“What if you did the rest of your school year from home? Like we had to during covid. I’m sure the school would let you after what happened today.” Nick sits back down next to his best friend.

“My mom would kill me” She lets out a dry chuckle at the genuine thought.

“Come to my house to do it” He shrugs. “Don’t tell her you’re doing it. Come to my house every school-day and do your schoolwork there. Then we can hang out more too.”

Y/n genuinely thinks about it for a few minutes. “It’s not a bad idea… Do you think they’d let me do it without talking to my parents?”

“You don’t know until you ask” He shrugs.

“Okay. Yeah. I’ll talk to the principle when I get back to school.”

“Awesome! And for now…” Nick smirks as he pulls out his phone. “We stalk Mayas socials, get dirt on her and talk shit. Order some pizza, it’s gonna be a long night.”

“You’re my soulmate” The girl shakes her head, looking at her best friend in awe.

“You wish” He scoffs

“Soulmates can be platonic, weirdo”

“Oh. Then yeah, we’re definitely soulmates”

[emmalostinwonderland]

💜 “Will they revoke my queer card if I don’t get oat milk in my lattes?”

FirstPrince please!

I was so hoping someone would pick this prompt lol. Thank you, Steph! For you, here's a bit of established-relationship cuteness featuring autistic Henry. Up to you if it's canon or not, it really could go either way imho. It also ran a bit longer than expected (which I should've seen coming - of course your prompt request would come with your short-fic-runs-long deal lol), so half is under the cut.

“I’ll have an Earl Grey, please.” “Okay, just the tea or did you want to try our lavender oat milk London Fog?” Alex looks up from his phone to find Henry staring in mildly-stunned confusion at the pink-haired barista behind the counter at whatever local shop they wandered into today. It’s loud in there – enough that it’s even grating on his own ears a bit – and it’s a brand new spot for them. He gives his boyfriend a moment to cope with the change himself, but Henry’s mouth opens and closes twice without any sound coming out, so he pipes up to rescue him. “He’s a black tea kinda guy, but thanks.” Henry bumps shoulders with him in a silent ‘thank you’, but the barista just shrugs, scribbles on the side of a cup with a sharpie, and sets it aside. “For you?”

“Medium latte with cinnamon. Actual cinnamon, not syrup.” “Iced?” Alex shakes his head. “Hot. And yes, I know it’s summer.” “Did you want that with oat milk?” They don’t even look up from the cup they’re writing on. “Sorry, did I miss a memo?” Alex laughs, mostly to show he’s just being a little snarky and not a complete asshole, but Henry gives him a look.  “Excuse me?” “You’re upselling on oat milk like. A lot. To the couple in front of us, to my boyfriend, now to me… Do you have 2%? Or will they revoke my queer card for not getting oat milk in my lattes?” “Alex,” Henry hisses at him.  The barista isn’t remotely fazed though. They just look exhausted. “My manager ordered double what we usually get, and I was told to push it. You can have whatever you want, man, I just work here.” “...I see. I’d like it regular please.” “No problem.” They ring up the drinks, and Alex pays, stuffing a 20 in the tip jar to make up for his attitude.  Henry pulls him into a hug while they wait at the other end of the counter, and Alex melts into it. They aren’t normally super touchy-feely in public spaces, but Henry has always had a sort of sixth sense for Alex’s mood shifts. He blames the autism, but Alex secretly thinks it’s proof that they were each designed by some higher power with the other in mind. “Are your batteries getting low, love?” It’s a little odd hearing the phrase from Henry – that’s usually his line when they’re out and about. He nods after only a moment’s consideration, rubbing his cheek against the wear-soft fabric of Henry’s old Oxford polo team t-shirt. “It’s been a long week. I’m sorry.” “It’s alright. We’ve ducked out of plenty of things early for me; it can be your turn this time. Let’s skip the movie and go home.” "You sure?" “Definitely. We can even watch Empire if that would help.” “I seriously fucking love you.” Alex smiles for the first time since they walked into the coffee shop when he feels Henry kiss his temple. “I love you too.”

More Ficlet Friday Prompts

[captainnameless]

How's your day been? If you are up to it, could you do something cute with Daniel, little oscar, and little lando? Maybe with wintery themes? Maybe cuddled up under a blanket watching a film, and one or both (lando and/or oscar) of them falls asleep?

it’s been alright, thanks for asking <3

It comes together easy enough. Lando’s getting better with asking for things, wants to have a day with Daniel before he flies off to a 10 hour difference timezone for a big chunk of the winter break.

Oscar’s added with no fuss, that way they can fly home to Australia together.

“Share, please. Lando.” Daniel says when the bag of animal crackers is snatched up immediately. It’s the ones with the chocolate bottom so Daniel can’t really blame him, but still.

“I am.” Lando huffs, sticking his hand in the bag and hold out exactly two. Oscar, bless him, takes them and even says thank you and Lando’s about to settle down with the rest of the bag but Daniel snatches it from him.

“Mine!” Lando screeches, much like those birds from Finding Nemo. “Danny, nooo!”

“If you can’t share fair, then I’ll share for you.” Daniel says simply and sticks his hand in the bag to scoop some more out for Oscar.

“That’s ok-” Oscar starts to say, already pressing himself further into the couch but Daniel holds his hand out.

“Nu uh, take them Bud. You only take two? Lando only gets two.”

“Take more!” Lando screeches again, and Daniel has to bite back his smirk.

Obediently, Oscar cups both of his hands together and lets Daniel dump the snacks into them.

The rest of their afternoon goes surprisingly smooth, Lando’s bribed into taking a nap and Oscar, the angel, agrees to lay down too to appease his teammate. He does come back down 15 minutes later, cheeks flushed and socked feet scuffing into the carpet with a “Lando’s asleep, I’m not tired.”

Daniel doesn’t push it, he’s not entirely sure Oscar regresses, sometimes he just floats somewhere in between, otherwise it’s clear he does. It’s okay for Oscar to still be figuring that out.

When Lando wakes up they decide to make Christmas cards, they’re all dipping their hands in paint to make little Santa hats and trees that Daniel takes a sharpie to after they’ve dried to write names and add a string of lights.

Daniel orders take out for dinner, and because they’ve been very good they get to eat it on the couch with a movie.

Oscar’s still in the “somewhere in between” when they sit down, Daniel can tell from the way he looks a little bit like an awkward teenager, trying very hard to not let their legs touch. Lando’s oblivious to it, leaning over Daniel to get to Oscar and actually get his opinion on what to watch. That gets Oscar to relax a little, and slowly their legs touch.

Daniel’s still surprised when, when they’ve added a blanket and Lando’s pressed himself up into Daniel’s side that Oscar’s head starts slowly falling to his shoulder, until it rests there.

Daniel peeks over and sees Oscar’s fallen asleep, his hair falling into his face, almost covering his eyes. There’s soft little breaths that leave him and when Daniel moves his free hand to brush the hair out of his face it scrunches together adorable, lips pressed together in a pout.

Daniel cannot help the coo that leaves him, getting Lando’s attention who’s now also looking over.

“He’s asleep?” He states, more than asks.

“Yea, so we gotta be quiet.” Daniel says, voice hushed, the arm that’s around Lando squeezing his shoulder.

“That’s what you get when you don’t nap.” Lando says matter of factly, face serious, shoulders shrugging.

Daniel snorts. “Please, says you.”

“I napped!” Lando says, eyebrows furrowing together and Daniel quickly soothes him with a chuckle.

“Shh. You did, you did buddy. I’m very proud of you.”

It settles Lando back into Daniel’s chest for a moment before he moves again, leaning over to press a kiss to Oscar’s forehead.

“Na night.” He whispers, then turns to Daniel again. “Do you think he wants my Yoda?”

Daniel’s face fills with a smile. “No, I think he’s got all the cuddles he needs.”