#like that plushie right there is my lifeline right now

[choccorin]

oh my god .. he's one highlighter tall ...

[k00295632]

Project: Disrupt. Week 4 (reading week), Secondary Research

Over the reading week, I investigated different medias in order to garner inspiration for my project, specifically horror medias, that work to unnerve the viewer. Some of these I already had in mind in the duration of my project and some I came across last week, but its only now that I have investigated what makes them horror, and how they invoke fear in the viewer. I tried highlighting important words to make it easier to read if y'all are feeling lazy and want to skim.

Five Nights at Freddy's 1 (FNAF)

FNAF is a indie horror survival game created by Scott Cawthon, and a game franchise I've been interested in since I was 10 years old. To summarise in game, you play from the p.o.v of a security guard and must survive 5 (7) nights, and defend yourself from haunted human like animatronics, using the security cameras, doors, and lights. Its sparked a few ideas in my project such as paintings distorting themselves on cameras and small unnoticed changes that aren't known until its too late. What I want to focus on here is how audio enhances the horror in the game , and a little bit on the game visuals and how they also unnerve the player.

Audio

The horror aspect of the game is built off 2 pillars, "absence of information", and "absence of action", as you are trapped in a claustrophobic office, with 5 animatronics trying to get you, with no info and 2 doors working on limited power to defend you. In this scenario, being helpless makes the player desperate for info, which is given to you through audio, so you cling to it like a lifeline, but that doesn't mean all audio clues are helpful.

Some audio is advantageous, it gives you clues on where the Animatronics are in the building, over time you learn the patterns and clues of some of these sounds, which helps you plan to survive.

However some are disadvantageous and works against you, and is detrimental audio. For example the fan in your office is deliberately loud and interferes w/ other audio signals, and is at a specific frequency that automatically causes anxiety for the player. There's also red herrings, barely there, simply to stress you and add to the environment. The vague vocals are a big red herring, and are actually like a audio uncanny valley, Scott uses recordings of "Autobiography of a Yogi" played backwards and distorted , and does the same with a child's laugh making it sound demonic. This slightest hint of language in an otherwise garbled sound makes the player paranoid as they are unable to understand this hidden information or threat.

A lot of the unnerving aspects of the game is the Foley sounds used, the diegetic sounds, which are almost entirely consistent with the game actions, which not only immerses you in the games atmosphere and heightens the fear factor. The only non-diegetic sound is the audio stinger, often used in horror movies to link or emphasise a movement in a visual production and often comes as a shock, in the game its used for the arrival of a animatronics arrival at your doors, and the contrast from the diegetic sounds completely shocks the player and causes them to panic.

This is an analysis video on YouTube that goes into further detail on how audio enhances the horror in the game and has examples of those sounds and explains the sound mechanics in game.

Visual

Visually, Scott uses the dark cramped office of the game to create an oppressive space, and grainy video footage that makes you squint to see what's happening, leaving the player uncertain of what's in the area. But on the topic of the uncanny valley affect, the suits of the animatronics have it as a visual affect, they're too human to be cartoonish yet move too mechanically to be human, but what really makes them uncanny to me personally is their eyes.

On the left are the marketable plushies and on the right are the in game models. The in game models have very human looking eyes and dark voids around them, separating them from the rest of the face, the dark circles automatically look terrifying compared tp the plushies that don't, and actually look like cartoon characters. The void separates them, highlighting the fact that the mask aren't their true faces, this fact is especially uncomfortable if you take into account that there are human souls possessing these suits.

Paranormal Activity 1 (PA)

Paranormal Activity is a found footage terror movie directed by Oren Peli, and I watched it on Halloween partially out of interest and because I saw that it was completely shot through one of the main protagonists hand held cameras, documenting the strange occurrences in their home with his partner. Since I'm looking at security cameras a lot for my project I thought it might be relevant for me to look at.

So its more or less about this young couple (Katie & Mikah) being haunted by this demon that's been following Katie for years, recorded all on Mikah's cameras over a period of 21 nights. The first hour drags on slowly building up the tension while also showing the demon gradually become more aggressive and extreme. It escalates rapidly, going from zero to a hundred very quickly in the last 20 minutes leaving the viewer shocked, I certainly was. Peli utilises a series of techniques to create this creature's presence, such as displacing/moving objects, slamming doors, leaving foot prints with flour, leaving physical marks (bites and scratches)on the protagonists, and getting directly and indirectly physical with them. It goes from keys ending up on the floor, to being dragged out of bed and/or possessed.

Watching the progression of the demons behavior and watching from the cameras perspective at night is deeply disturbing especially later into the movie, as the protagonists are completely defenseless as the majority of the stuff happens. There's something very uncomfortable about watching someone who is sleeping be completely helpless to the happenings around them, especially happenings with harmful intent.

This is the footage of the 20th night, and gives an example of the type of stuff that was happening at night to the couple while also displaying the more aggressive behavior of the demon.

Ringu

Ringu is a 1998 Japanese phycological horror film directed by Hideo Nakata depicting a reporter and her ex-husband investigating a cursed video tape that is rumored to kill the viewer seven days after watching it. I haven't had the opportunity to watch it yet but during the week off I was explaining the concept idea I had of a painting crawling out of its frame to a family friend, and he told me that it reminded him of this scene from the movie. This scene creeped me out, and the grainy footage of the tv enhances the unnaturalness of the scene. Ringus's slow approach out of the creates suspense and the viewer is forced to squirm and anticipate their attack.

Notes

This took longer than I thought it would to write up and I had to rewrite the fnaf section 3 times to make it to the point and cohesive, I know to much about it and tried not to info dump about it.

Also I will post my ideas derived from these pieces of media and how I plan to include them into my project, I have big ideas so far and I'd like to try all of them. This lost is already long enough.

Sorry for all the writing.

[give-soup-please]

Is it okay to request you where the reader is a sentient plushie that usually just hangs out with the Narrator in his office?

Narrator With a Reader Who is a Plushie in His Office

Have you heard of rubber duck debugging? Where a programmer will explain a problem with their code to an object in order to solve the problem? That’s what the narrator does to you.

He’ll read his story to you again and again, hoping to work out all the flaws. Of course he believes his writing is already perfect, but there must be a way for him to make it even more so. 

He talks to you, debating whether to add another branching path, or to switch up his delivery. 

“Should I actually add a third door? The suggestion was a joke the first time I implemented it, but now I can’t help but wonder…”

Or, “I can’t tell whether to keep my voice steady, or let it waver a bit to let Stanley know I’m in on the joke too. Will being deadpan serve my purposes better? Hmm. What do you think?”

You sit there patiently, waiting for the narrator to come to a decision. Your button eyes glint from the fluorescent lights, your body heavy with stuffing. Sometimes he actually needs a verbal response, sometimes it’s better to hold your tongue and let him make up his mind. You’ve hung out with him long enough to be able to anticipate his needs well.

Sometimes, when he’s had a hard day, like when Stanley refuses to listen or throws himself off the staircase multiple times, he clutches you to his chest like a lifeline. No one else is going to see him, so there’s no need to hide his sadness or exhaustion. You try to give him what comfort you can. He’s surprised sometimes, when you hug him back.

The first time you talk to him, he’s startled. When he programmed you into his game, you were just for some extra comfort. He wasn’t expecting you to develop sentience. It’s nice though, to have someone to talk to.

He’s tossing papers left and right, not angry, just frustrated with writer’s block. When one of the papers lands near you, you begin to read without thinking about it. You say, “Hey, this is pretty good. Why’d you throw this one away?” The narrator whips around, clutching his chest. “Good God!” 

He stares at you in fear at first, from the slight jumpscare, then in confusion, before settling on suspicion. “Who are you?”

“I’m your plushie. Don’t you remember?” He approaches you cautiously, wondering if his mind has snapped. He picks you up and examines you closely. He can feel your coding underneath your fur. You’re alive, somehow.

Like always, a good friendship with the narrator takes time. He feels embarrassed that he’s vented to and cuddled with something without realizing that you were alive. But you weren’t always this way, he was sure.

(What neither of you realize, is that it’s a velveteen rabbit situation. He loved you so much he accidentally made you real.)

After he discovers you’re sentient, he moves you closer to his computer, for ease of access and additional comfort. Sometimes you flop onto his arm. Whether or not you do this intentionally is never discussed.

The two of you are odd friends, but you make it work. 

(warning, long commentary in the tags)

[meimi-haneoka]

Akiho Shinomoto - a manifesto of love

Despite becoming one of my favorite characters in the whole Cardcaptor Sakura franchise (and I would’ve never expected to love a new character this much), I realized I’ve never spent a long post for her, like the ones I did for SyaoSaku or for Tomoyo and Syaoran long time ago.

And there’s a lot to say, because Akiho Shinomoto is actually the first character who has introduced the concepts of evil and child abuse in Cardcaptor Sakura.

Something that wasn’t even remotely conceivable until (almost) 5 years ago.

Often considered boring and weak from the CCS fandom, Akiho actually harbors an immense strength inside of her, which goes mostly unnoticed to everyone, in-story friends included. Let’s see why.

Sentenced to death, for lack of magical powers

Once upon a time, a baby girl was born in a clan of powerful magicians, the most ancient of Europe. Clan members seemed happy and curious about the new entry to the family. They had great expectations about what magic she would develop, as everyone else in that family. At the ripe old age of 1 year and a half / 2 years, the baby girl was expected to show some signs of magic, but she had none. But hey, maybe she would become powerful later, let's pat her head and wait patiently. At that time, the Clan still showed some kind of "attention" for her.

But by the time the girl was around 6/7 years old, no fragment of magic appeared in her. Unacceptable. She's the daughter of two top rank magicians, in a clan of magic prodigies. Yet, she showed none of those gifts. They kept comparing her with some boy, living in a far away country, part of another famous magical clan. The girl suddenly held no more interest for her Clan. They actually started seeing her as a stain on their Clan's pride. Suddenly, the focus was all on how they could surpass the other rival clan. The girl was left all alone. A magicless member of the family is a member who doesn't even deserve being talked to. An interrogatory, at most. Who cares if the little girl wants to socialize, if she wants to play, if she's the only young person in that Clan, already without her parents who died so early on? The only thing this girl was good at was reading books, so all that's she's allowed to do. Not even playing with stuffed animals. For some reason, she's allowed to keep only ONE plushie, which is basically everything to her. But books and dolls can't fill that sinkhole she's already feeling at such young age.

Obsessed with this "anomaly", when she was about 2 years old, the Clan had the baby girl examined by a member of a Magic Association in England, known to be the den of shady magicians. A 8/9 year old bored magic genius, named “Yuna D.”, was her examiner. The boy said "She's like a blank book". The girl grew up, and the situation was still the same. The disapproving stares of her relatives cut the little girl’s heart like a sharp knife. They called her “worthless”, “useless”. They even doubted she could really be the daughter of her powerful parents. So what should they have done? Let the little girl live her life like any other regular human being, or taking literally the words of a BORED, EMOTIONALLY UNDEVELOPED CHILD who literally spat out the first thing that came to his mind?

Although the choice should’ve come easily for any normal human being with a functioning brain, they actually went in the other direction, greedy for power. And so, they decided to treat the girl like a tool, using her to store all kinds of magic for them to use. If she couldn’t be of any help to her clan with her capabilities, they would give her a purpose.

On some kind of altar, halfway between a lab rat and the sacrificing ritual of a sect, the most ancient Magicians of Europe together with the Magic Association performed a dangerous magic on her, which afterwards would take its toll even on the casters: they turned her into a magical artifact, capable of engraving in herself all the magical books she would encounter, transforming her de facto into a book herself. As if this wasn’t horrifying enough, this spell will progressively try to crush her soul and conscience, until it gets destroyed completely. So when the artifact will reach its limit, it will be the death of her, as a human being. Only a shell of her will remain. And judging by what was said later on in the story, they actually hope for her to lose her consciousness completely, so they can make use of her more easily.

Afterwards, they burned the book they took the ritual from, so the procedure would remain in their knowledge only. Greedy till the very last drop.

Once their perfect magical tool was achieved, turning a little girl into some sort of artifact, both the Clan and their accomplices couldn't stop bragging about it. The only positive words Akiho has ever received in her life by her people were after she was turned into a tool.

With a newly found purpose for that stain on their clan’s pride, they sent her away into the world to collect all the magic books she could find and write their powers into her, even though she was still just a child. For reasons still unknown, Yuna D., the boy who involuntarily caused this horrible ritual to happen and basically condemned her to death, offers himself to accompany her. The very first decision he took in his own life. That decision will change forever the course of their life, for both of them.

Rising from the ashes, towards a future of hope

Rehashing Akiho’s past is important to understand her personality and behavior fully. CLAMP, in the Clear Card manga, have portrayed the story of her past in a very peculiar way: it starts as any other fairytale, with light tones and cute designs. But as the story progresses, and the horror ensues, the tone of the tale changes, and so the drawing style too. It becomes serious, and “realistic” (ad opposed to the initial cutesy style). What started as a possible generic fairytale, turned into a real nightmare.

On top of being deprived of the love of her parents ever since she was born, because apparently they died right after, Akiho spent her early childhood in complete solitude. Those magicians who were supposed to be her remaining family were too absorbed into their own greed for power, to consider the needs of a baby girl. Not to mention that they had some kind of disgust for her, for being magicless. She was denied attention, cuddles, conversations, play activities, toys. She was denied love and care. All basic things that contribute to shape the personality and psychology of a person. Akiho grew up with the conviction that she wasn’t worth any of that, because no one gave it to her. One of the complaints I have seen the most about her in the fandom, is how she’s always so apologetic, to the point of becoming obnoxious. If you think about it, one of the most prominent characteristics of her personality is how she continuously apologizes to people, thanks them for any smallest thing, and is always, constantly seeking validation. 

But if you stop for a second to think about her past, you’ll realize with dismay that those are none other than symptoms of the abuse she suffered in the past. She was called “good for nothing” and “useless” by her clan and the Magic Association, and those words carved themselves into her heart, forever scarring it. Akiho grew up believing that she was really worthless and good for nothing just because she couldn’t meet the expectations of her clan, and it’s apparent when we see her considering herself “extremely clumsy”, even though we have afterwards seen that she’s perfectly capable of cooking, sewing, even playing sports. She only needs the dedication of someone who would teach her that.

With a disastrous psychological situation like this, one would naturally wonder how this girl didn’t commit anything extreme yet. Completely alone in the world, deemed useless. Unloved.

Books, books were her first lifeline. The fictional, magical, wonderful worlds depicted in those stories saved her sanity, making her dream about a better life, about friendship, about love. They taught her everything. They gave her the hope that those things existed out there, and maybe one day she would be blessed with them too. The fantastical characters kept her company when no one was there for her (yet). And she loves them viscerally for that, to the point of seeing herself mending damaged books in the future, as a possible occupation. Just like they mended her lacerated heart.

The second lifeline was her meeting with Kaito. Uncharacteristically to him, Kaito showed immediately a kind and interested behavior towards her. This was so shocking, so incredible that Akiho’s first reaction to his introduction was to run away. No one ever addressed her with the intention of having a conversation. No one was ever interested in what she was reading. Even just by this you can get a glimpse of how miserable her life had been till then. Full of psychological issues himself, thanks to the human connection Kaito gradually turned his attentions towards Akiho from contrieved mannerism, to genuine and sincere gestures. Akiho can feel that affection, even if her self-criticism always pushes her to believe that she’s nothing more than “job” to him. It’s something small, but what she’s experiencing with Kaito is her everything, and more than she’s ever had.

The third lifeline is Momo: Akiho doesn’t know, nor remotely imagines she’s actually a living magical creature. But she has been her constant presence ever since she was born. Her connection to her is special, and you can see it in their daily (one-sided, for now) interactions. Akiho talks to Momo, she greets her when she comes back home, she constantly carries her around, she thinks about giving her a little dress as a present. Momo is Akiho’s strength. The love this girl pours into what she believes is just a stuffed animal is incredible. It goes to show Akiho’s immense capacity to love something/someone without expecting anything in return, but actually just enjoying the simple presence and courage they give to her. If you think about it, it’s the very opposite of what she experienced with the only human interactions she’s ever had before Kaito came into the picture. Her aptitude to selfless love is also remarked between the lines in chapter 49, when Akiho is telling Sakura about her relationship with Kaito. Despite all the ugliness she went through, she’s still able to find in herself the strength to overcome all of it, and change her life for the better.

This certainly hasn’t been an easy or quick process, because in the flashbacks of her journey with Kaito we always see her with a pensive/serious look. It must have been extremely hard to start trusting others, when she had no one she could count on in her own home.

Akiho’s capacity to love and rise from the ashes of her terrible past has been so contagious, that it has started to affect Kaito too.  As Momo said in chapter 51, once you’re given the reason to change, no person can ever stay the same. This must have been true for Kaito, but certainly for Akiho too.

I’m absolutely positive that Akiho (and possibly, Kaito too) will be the symbol for one of the most important, beautiful messages in the whole Clear Card Arc: even if your life isn’t perfect, even if your past scarred you in multiple ways, there’s always hope. Hope to turn over a new leaf and change yourself for the better too, in the process. Overcome everything that had you stuck in pain and grief. Achieve what you always wished for.

[house-of-laminations]

Ajdhsjsgshsh how dare you feed my ego but thank you for feeding my ego. Also we gots some chronic pain and talk of character death here just so Yknow )

You can’t say you were surprised by being grabbed, but you were surprised when Lucifer’s face was buried in your neck and he was holding onto you like a lifeline. "I’m.. painfully aware. There’s no need for you to say it like that.”

Part of you felt sorry.. clearly he wasn’t ready to face this, but at the same time, part of you was upset. Your throat was dry as you wrapped your arms around him, “I’m going to die one day Lucifer.. a lot sooner than you might think. I have questions I need answers to. Do I need to ask someone else?”

You swore he growled- even if it was just for a split second. He lifted his head, “If you are to die one day, and your soul is here, I’ll try to acquire it immediately. However I would prefer you speak to Solomon. Immortality would suit you in more ways than one.”

Blinking, you shook your head, “Lucifer.. I’m in pain every day.. you can’t expect me to go on for an eternity like this.”

“Pain is fixable. My brothers and I have been alive for thousands of years and will be for thousands more. Even if your pathetic human world succumbs to what it has done to itself, the devildom will still exist. You could easily have a life here, you’ve shown it yourself. Besides, we’ll be renovating the house soon. We could easily make more room for you.”

Lucifer didn’t beg. It wasn’t his nature to. Yet this seemed as close as he could get. "I’m dying now, Lucifer. My lungs aren’t working well. I know you’ve noticed.. how walking to school is harder, climbing up the stairs takes a while, I have to sit down in the middle of making dinner. You can’t fix everything.. even if you want to.”

His eyes were so red.. shiny almost. It’s as if he was looking into your very soul. He easily stood up, carrying you, “Well then we just have to fix you. Devildom medicine is quite different than human world medicine. I’ll make a few calls.”

You sighed.. he wasn’t getting it. He wasn’t understanding. Nonetheless you leaned on him. His brothers would be jealous the moment they saw you, but you could deal with that later.

Thus commenced the family meeting. You were still in Lucifer’s arms as he stood in the living room, having called all of his brothers there. Mammon was the one who threw the biggest fit, “AYE! That’s my human! I’m their first demon, so I should be the one holding ‘em.”

“I wanna hold them…” Beel seemed pouty almost. “They look like a plushy like that.”

“I’ll share with Beel.” Belphie was being carried piggy back style already. Soon enough the whole room was bickering about who should get to hold you, and you sighed, “That’s enough guys- stop fighting please.”

There were a few more remarks, but soon everyone settled down enough. Lucifer looked at you expectantly and with another huff you looked at them all, “I’m dying and Luci wants to fix me.”

There was silence.. and then there was chaos.

“Whaddya mean you’re dying?”

“But your skin looks healthy! It’s not even drooping any, I’ve made sure of it!”

“Henry you’re not allowed to leave me!”

“What if we feed them more?”

“Making sure you get enough sleep is supposed to help humans live longer.”

“What exactly is the problem? I’ve been reading about human medicine, maybe I have something.”

“Would you all be quiet? We can easily call Solomon here.”

“QUIET.” Your voice crackled and everyone was forced to be silent. Suddenly you broke out into a coughing fit, leaning forward as your body shakes violently. When you were done you once more leaned on Lucifer. “Okay.. okay. Let me down now.” You released the pack command and stood on your own two feet, only to be almost knocked down as mammon and Asmo immediately wrapped their arms around you.

“I’m gonna call Solomon- he can fix it. Right? He’s good at this kind of thing- he never died.” -🥀

(Have you noticed there’s no yellow lettering? It’s kinda annoying.)

I will feed and water your ego and take it on walks. 💛

Asksldhdjsk this is intense but I’m loving it 💛 their possessiveness and their inability to let go of mc is both very sweet and very in character. Is solomon going to be the deus ex machina they’re all searching for???

Also there is yellow lettering! I’m not exactly making my case for it right now bc I’m on mobile but the desktop version does have it!

[geminiamethyst]

Running. Chapter 29: Making Amends

Chapter 1: click HERE

Chapter 28: click HERE

Chapter 30: click HERE

The day went by slowly. Too slowly for Kaito. Maki hadn’t come out their shared room since the fight. He didn’t know if she was still angry or depressed or both. He just wanted to wait until he felt like it was the right time to try talking to her again. The only one that approached the room was Keebo when he was done with scanning their belongings. He mentioned that Maki did open the door, but only to allow the bags to be gently pushed through the door, before picking them up and closing it firmly before the robot could ask her anything. Since then, no one heard a peep out of her. She didn’t even come downstairs for supper that evening. And Miu joking around the situation didn’t help. It wasn’t until Taka finally scolded her harshly that she packed it in.

After dinner, Kaito finally decided to finally break the ice. He dished up the sushi rolls and clean chopsticks that were left and cautiously made his way up to the room. If it weren’t for the fact that Maki hadn’t left, the soundproof room would’ve made him go on a panic search for her. He took a deep breath, remembering what Taka had told him earlier that day. Don’t ask about the nightmare, but remind Maki that he’ll still be there for when she’s ready to speak. Steeling his nerves (and bracing himself in case Maki shouted at him again), he opened the door slightly. He couldn’t hear anything. He was quite worried that Maki might have snuck out without anyone knowing, but he was sure that he and the others might have been alerted if that was the case. He pushed the door a little more, and poked his head in. The mess that Maki had made was cleaned up, albeit a little neater than it was before.

Maki was curled up on the bed, dried tear trails were present on her face. She was passed out from crying, holding her plushie in her arms, squeezing it tightly like a lifeline. Kaito would’ve found this adorable if it wasn’t for the emotional damage that was done. Closing the door quietly behind him, Kaito crept over to the bed. Normally Maki would hear him coming, but she didn’t seem to be aware of him at all. That’s how much she was drained.

Kaito’s lips were pressed in a thin line as he was reminded again of what had happened. No, don’t back out now! Kaito shook off the depressing thoughts and gently sat down on the bed. Maki finally noticed his presence when the mattress dipped near her. Her eyes glanced up at Kaito, but they were unfocused and misty. She didn’t have a huge reaction upon seeing him. Kaito wanted nothing more than to scoop her up in his arms and hug her to death but he knew that he can��t do that. Small, slow steps. That’s all he needs to do, otherwise Maki might throw him out.

“Didn’t mean to wake you up. My bad.” Kaito spoke quietly, offering a small smile. Maki only blinked, and then her eyes drifted to the plate in his hands. “Thought you might be hungry.”

Maki stayed still before she inhaled deeply and exhaled as she slowly sat up, hesitantly loosening the grip on the soft toy. Kaito’s heart clenched as he had a better look at Maki. Her eyes were red sore from crying and were a little crusty from not wiping them properly. Her hair was tangled from where she had been laying down. She looked like a bit of a mess from letting out her emotions. Maki didn’t say anything as she gently took the plate from Kaito. She grabbed the chopsticks, but couldn’t bring herself to start eating. Kaito frowned at this. Maybe he should say something now so he can help encourage her to eat?

“Listen, Maki Roll-” he started, keeping his distance still from Maki.

“I’m sorry.” Maki suddenly said. Kaito was stunned into silence as she said that. Maki didn’t seem t notice as she continued. “It’s just…I know that you’re trying to look out for me but I can’t speak about what I’ve seen. It brought back so many bad memories and…and I…”

Maki stopped speaking. She couldn’t say anything else as she o started to have tears trailing down her cheeks. She wasn’t looking at Kaito. She couldn’t look at him right now. She just kept her head bowed down and her shoulders were tending up.

Nope. Not letting this happen. Maki wasn’t the one that started the fight. Kaito knew that he was the one that struck first about this matter. He brought up the trauma that Maki didn’t need to be reminded more about. She deserved much more than that. He needs to speak up and say his piece now before this got out of hand.

Kaito gently took hold of her face in both hands, causing her to look up at him. He was honestly expecting her to push him away, but she didn’t. Shock maybe? Kaito gently wiped away the fresh tears and maintained eye contact as he did so.

“Don’t. I’m the one that’s sorry. I was pushing you and I knew that I shouldn’t have. You have nothing to apologise for.” He said calmly, carefully touching her forehead with his. Maki didn’t pull away. She just looked up at him listening to every word that he said. “Just talk when you’re ready, okay? Not today, not tomorrow, hell not even next year if it’s that bad. Just let me know when you’re not feeling great, promise?”

Maki blinked several times, processing his words. She didn’t say anything or move away from him. She just sat there silently. It took a while, but finally she smiled tiredly and leaned into the caring touch that was on her face.

“Promise.” She whispered, her body relaxing. Kaito smiled as he felt relieved. He didn’t expect Maki to tell him about her nightmare, but at least she’ll hopefully be more open to him if she was troubled by something. And that’s all that he needed right now.

Kaito gently leaned in. Maki didn’t protest it and Kaito carefully gave her a peck on the lips. He couldn’t stop smiling as Maki’s cheeks turned to a light shade of pink.

“I know that I haven’t said it much, but I love you. And that’s not gonna change any time soon.” Kaito smiled, once again connecting their foreheads.

“I love you too.” Maki smiled, closing her eyes in content. A weight had been taken off of both of them. There was still a little tension, but nothing that can’t be gone by the following morning. Things felt like they were back on track. First fight and it was resolved a bit quicker than Kaito expected. He supposed that it was better than letting it fester for days. Things were slowly getting better.

After a minute, Kaito remembered another reason why he came up here. He grinned as he pulled back, and gingerly took the chopsticks from Maki. She didn’t question it, other than raising an eyebrow. She watched as he proceeded to pick up one of the sushi rolls.

“Now, eat up.” Kaito smiled, offering the roll to her.

“I can feed myself.” Maki pouted, her cheeks turning a slightly darker shade of pink.

“Come on! Let me spoil you a bit.” Kaito countered, doing a pout himself. Maki didn’t want to admit it, but she somehow found it adorable. And it was rare for her to be spoiled like this.

“You really are an idiot.” She smiled lightly, before obliging with what Kaito was offering. Kaito didn’t stop grinning as Maki accepted the food and started eating at last. She tried to get the chopsticks back, but Kaito moved them away from her reach. Despite pouting, she allowed Kaito to continue feeding her.

Once Maki had finished eating, the young couple laid down next to each other. Kaito had his arms wrapped around Maki, stroking her hair whilst being careful as to not catch any knots by accident. Maki was curled up next to him, still holding her plushie. Her eyes were closed and her face was serenely calm. She looked like she would sleep peacefully right there. Thanks to the soundproofing, they weren’t disturbed by the outside world. They felt like, the only ones that existed in these moments together. It felt like nothing could interrupt their blissful peace.

“Crap!” Kaito exclaimed all of a sudden.

“What is it?” Maki asked, surprised by what Kaito had suddenly said.

“I need to call my grandparents!” Kaito exclaimed again, sitting up. His movements were so sudden that he almost tossed Maki off of the bed by accident.

“Go on. They’re more important than me right now.” Maki rolled her eyes, trying hard not to laugh. She really shouldn’t in this situation.

“Thanks!” Kaito spoke as he scrambled off of the bed and snatched his phone from his bag. He stopped at the doorway, a grin plastered on his face. “I don’t deserve you, you know that?”

“Go!” Maki shouted, but had a smile on her face. It was the only way to keep her from laughing. Kaito immediately left in a hurry, calling out to Miu to allow him to make the call. Maki couldn’t stop smiling as she watched the vacant doorway. After a minute, she laid back on the bed, squeezing the plushie in a bear hug. She truly felt like the luckiest girl in the world at that moment. And she would give anything to keep it that way.

[thezeninclan]

comforting shiggy fic after his a bad day?

“baby, look at me.”

you cupped his face in your hands, thumbs running over his hollow cheeks, wiping away the water that ran down the slope of his cheeks. he was avoiding your eye, zoning out as he stared absently into the distance. he hadn’t spoken in almost fifteen minutes, his chapped lips pressed so firmly together that the skin glowed white. 

you worked at threading your fingers through the light hair that curled at the back of his neck. you had finally managed to get him into the shower, knowing that the water would refresh and rejuvenate his spirits, if only just a little. 

he didn’t have the energy to fight, face blank and body limp as he stood under the hot spray, the water that ran down his face looking too much like tears for comfort. you worked a sponge over his arms and chest, careful over the fresh bruises and aging scars that littered his skin, working the sweat and stress from his skin. 

your arms reached for the expensive shampoos you often used, scrubbing your hands softly through his unruly hair. he sighed softly as your fingers scraped over his scalp and the back of his neck, lathering and soaping until he bowed forward to let you rinse the soap free. you kissed the scars on his back and shoulders as you stood behind him, wrapping your arms around his body and pulling yourself flush against him, letting the heat from your warm skin soak into his cold bones.

you coaxed him out as the water began to run cold, wrapping his shaken body in a soft white robe and sitting him on the edge of the bed as you dressed yourself. 

tomura sat there as you flitted around the room, his eyes staring straight down at the floor, even as you began to towel dry his wet skin. you combed your fingers through his hair, tenderly undoing the knots that had formed when he pulled relentlessly at it during moments of stress. 

“my sweet boy.” you cooed, enough tenderness and affection in your voice to show you weren’t patronising him. 

tomura leaned forward, resting his cheek against your breast, taking a long moment to inhale the sweet scent of your warm skin. his hands wound around you, holding you tight enough to veer into the realm of pain, but you didn’t stop him, you didn’t care. 

you weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, listening to the stuttering inhale of breath that showed he was trying not to cry, until finally he picked his head up looked at you, chin resting on your upper belly and eyes red and puffy, shining at bright as the diamond on your finger.

“let’s get to bed.” you whispered, petting down the frayed ends of his hair. “i dunno about you, but after today I could use a night wrapped up in your arms.”

“why.” he asked grimacing. “why do you want me?”

you furrowed you brow. “who else would i want?” you asked seriously, tilting his chin up until he met your eyes.

“dabi could protect you better.” he grunted. “or twice. probably even toga too.”

you stood up suddenly, surprising you both, and planted your hands firmly on your hips. you frowned at him, doing your best to look as stern as your mother once had when brandishing her shoe at you. “I don’t want dabi or toga or twice. i want you.” you said, firm and resolute. “I don't care what happened tonight, or last mission, or any future missions. I don’t care. you’re mine and i’m yours. no ifs, ands, or buts about it. now get into bed, tomura.”

if shigaraki had had more energy he would’ve snarked back at you, but as it was he barely had the energy to lift his own head, let alone pick a fight with you. 

he threw himself dramatically back into the bed, cutely throwing himself around on the mattress until he had nestled comfortably into the pillows and blankets like an animal burrowing for winter. he wrapped himself up in the blankets, laying his head back on your pillow and grabbing for the plushie you usually kept beside you at night.  

you schooled your face into careful neutrality, knowing tomura wouldn’t appreciate being called cute as a bunny right now, watching as he impatiently looked at you, narrowing his eyes and huffing before pointedly opening the blankets for you to crawl into- which you were more than happy to oblige. 

you lay beside him, feeling the way his shoulders shook slightly, the sound of your combined breathing the only thing that filled the room, the night as deep and dark as one of kurogiri’s portals.

you heard tomura stir from beside you. “can we...” he rasped, long fingers gripping the hem of the blanket like a lifeline, his other hand finding yours beneath the covers. he huffed at himself before starting again. “if you want to... we can cuddle.”

you smiled to yourself in the darkness, and just nodded. “okay, baby.”

he shifted from his side of the bed to yours, curling up in offered your arms as though you were shielding him from the world, and laid his head upon your chest. you cradled him against you, wrapping your arms around him slim frame and pulling him towards you. 

his legs tangled with yours beneath the weighted blanket, hands smoothing up and down his back slowly, able to feel the warmth of his skin against your palms, the cold air unable to reach you beneath the fortress you had made of pillows and blankets and fluffy comforters. 

you kissed each of his tired eyelids, the prominent bones of each cheek, the corners of his droopy lips, imbuing each of your kisses with love and tenderness and hoping that translated to your touch. but when you felt his hands twitch, eight long fingers wrapping around your hips and pulling you towards him, bedding his face against your neck and holding you in a tight embrace— you knew it had.

want to be tagged? 

[kiseki-no-scenarios]

I am so sorry to hear that you’re going through a rough time in life right now, Anon!!! Please stay safe and if you have any dark thoughts and think you might be wanting to hurt yourself, please reach out for help.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 800-273-8255

GOM Comforting Depressed/Stressed Reader - Part One: Akashi, Midorima, Aomine

Akashi

Very intuitive and easily notices when you seem more distracted or stressed out-he knows you don’t like to make a big deal out of it.

So in very Akashi-like fashion, he simply observes you and tries to make things easier for you wherever he can

He’ll show you his support in small, understated ways-he’ll hold your hand whenever he’s close to you, squeezing your hand and giving you the softest smile when you finally turn to look at him

You always joke about how he’s such a gentleman all the time, so get prepared for ultra-super gentleman Akashi

Lifting the back of your hand to his lips and kissing it gently, brushing your hair and tucking it behind your ear

He’ll lean in and whisper compliments, just simple ones-about how lovely you look today, even more lovely than the day before

He doesn’t push you to tell him what’s going on, but waits for you to confide in him if you’re ready to. Sharing the burden is always something that he reminds you he’s ready to do.

Just his comforting, steadfast presence in your life is enough for you to curl up in his arms and tell him about your fears, sadness, and anything that’s stressing you out

He hums gently in your ear as he rocks you in his lap, something that he recalls his mother doing for him when he was little

And the next day, your smile is brighter than ever, gaze shining with confidence as you skip into the room, greeting him with a spirited peck on the lips.

“I always wish to be your safe haven, my Empress.” Akashi murmurs into your ear, his fingertips lightly brushing away the tears from your eyes as if flicking the morning dew off a flowers’ leaves. “No matter what stands in your way, I will always be there for you-as your protector, as your confident, and as the person who loves you the most in this world.”

Midorima

Although this tsundere really isn’t the best at showing emotions, he deeply cares for you and will notice if you seem off, or sad

Your responses to him aren’t as snarky or laced with sarcasm, and he can easily notice if it seems like you’re not being as clingy

He notices one of your habits of how you try to hold yourself together, your fingers digging into your arms whenever you don’t think he’s paying attention.

The lucky item of the day is a frog plushie, so he makes sure to purchase it for you and sticks it into your bag when you’re not paying attention

What you don’t notice is that he’s also slipped a note that he’s written alongside the plushie

When you get home that day, you empty out your bag to find the rather adorable looking stuffed frog-and a folded up piece of paper

Opening it up, you immediately notice the neat handwriting that’s obviously Midorima’s

When you finish the note, you immediately dash out the door of your house, almost running smack right into your boyfriend who was waiting for you outside

And this time, he’s not even complaining when you cling to his arms and calling him “Shin-tan!!!”, his arms wrapping around your back as he clumsily pats your hair, his cheeks reddening as you bury yourself into his chest, saying how comforting he smells.

“When you read this, I’ll be standing right outside if you want to talk. No matter how long it takes, I’ll always be here for you.”

Aomine

He notices your stressed mood when you’re not even barely responding to his provocations, and his normal, joking offers of doing some sort of “special” activities

You’re so distracted that you don’t even notice his arms wrapping you from behind, his lips pressing against the side of your neck

“What’s wrong, babe?” Aomine murmurs against your skin, growing more worried as you continue to stay silent. “Am I trouble…?”

“No.” You reply, turning to look at him with a tired smile. “I’m just…tired.”

Even Momoi is worried at this point

“If I kiss her enough, do you think that’ll make her feel better?” “No, Ahomine!! You have to show her that you care about her!” Momoi scolds him

Aomine knows that you’re strong, even if you don’t feel like it yourself. He may be loud and joking most of the time, but he’s the one that knows you the best.

He can see how much work you put in to your studies and all that you do, even if everyone else thinks you’re some kind of genius. He knows just how much you’re working behind the scenes, when you confide in him that sometimes, you feel that you’re not enough.

Making an executive decision, Aomine gently closes your textbook before he tugs on your hand, ignoring your protests as he pulls you into somewhere that he swore he’d never, ever step foot in.

And soon enough, you’re laughing at the sight of several kittens crawling all over Aomine’s large frame, their claws gripping onto his sweater as they hang off of him.

For Aomine, just hearing you laugh again is enough to suffer through any embarrassment that he has to sit through, in the middle of a cutesy cat cafe.

“I’ll wear these for you today, but it’ll be your turn next time.” Aomine teases, slipping the dark-blue colored cat ears onto his head. “I’ve got all sorts of fun things planned for you, babe.”

---

Masterpost

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[vannahfanfics]

Raincheck

Category: Angst, Drama, Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Hitoshi Shinso, Ochako Uraraka

Hello everyone! This is my story for the @shinsoubigbang​! When you get a chance, also check out my partner's artwork; they did an amazing job illustrating a scene from the story. :)

The wind tugged at Hitoshi’s lavender locks and whipped at the capture weapon around his neck as he perched on the edge of the rooftop. He hunched like a gargoyle as he carefully surveyed the sprawling mess of back alleys below his sneakers. Crime always festered in dark places, especially on cloudy, moonless nights like these. Hitoshi could almost hear the whispers of malcontent and mischief rising with the wisps of fog. His instincts were buzzing, tingling just beneath his skin, indicating that his hunt for criminals would soon bear fruit. 

His lilac-hued eyes snapped to the side as the air suddenly rang with the rhythmic clacking of heels. A young woman in a waitress’ garb quickly strode down a cobblestoned back road. She clutched her purse tight to her chest and feverishly looked to her left and right. Despite her vigorous attempts, her caution did not avail her. Hitoshi watched a shadow slink out from behind a dumpster. A knife glinted in the dark as its blade caught the dull yellow light spilling from the nearby streetlamp. The shadowy figure crept up behind the unsuspecting woman, reaching for her brunette hair bunched in a bun— 

and that’s when Hitoshi swung down in a dark fury, his capture weapon wrapping tightly around the man’s wrist. The woman screamed and stumbled into the wall as the hero wedged himself between her and her would-be assailant. The mugger cursed and tugged violently against his bindings, but he could not best the hard-earned muscles of Hitoshi’s arms, which flexed as he drew the capture weapon so tight that it ceased the man’s blood flow and forced his fingers apart. The knife clattered to the ground, useless, and the startled thief met Shinso’s cool, cold purple eyes. 

“Someone taught you the wrong way to pick up women, mate,” Hitoshi tsked while wagging his finger scoldingly. The mugger’s face turned an ugly red-purple hue, and he vehemently resumed clawing and yanking at the capture weapon. 

“You motherfucker! I’m gonna—” He wasn’t going to do anything, actually, which he realized when his jaw slackened and his eyes clouded over as Hitoshi’s Quirk washed over him. 

“Do me a favor and stop struggling, will you?” Hitoshi tutted. The man obediently lowered his arm, standing still as a statue as Hitoshi loosened the bindings and looped them back around his neck. The hero returned his attention to the young woman, who was still pale-faced and hugging the dirty brick wall while staring at the mugger in horror. 

“He… He won’t do anything?” she squeaked as Shinso abandoned him to walk over to her. 

“Him?” he asked with a jab of his thumb. “Nah,” he reassured with a wily smirk. “He’s completely under the control of my Quirk. He won’t do anything I don’t put in his empty head. Now, miss, are you hurt?” Still gawking apprehensively at her attacker, she slowly shook her head. To Hitoshi’s relief, however, her rigid body slowly relaxed, and she turned to look at him. 

“Thank you for saving me… I should have known better than to use this shortcut, but it’s my daughter’s birthday party and I wanted to hurry home after my shift since I couldn’t get off for her party…”

“I’m sorry you had to miss it,” Hitoshi said genuinely. “It’s dangerous around here, though. I’ll call in a police escort to get you home safely in addition to handing over this guy if you don’t mind waiting a little longer, okay?” Though she probably didn’t want to waste any more time, the near-catastrophe rattled her thoroughly enough to comply. Hitoshi walked out of the side street onto the sidewalk flanking the main road. After phoning the police, he paused to open a video message. 

“Hey, ‘Toshi!” Ochako’s bubbly round face dominated the screen, cheeks rosy and brown eyes sparkling as she waved excitedly. “I just got back from my P.R. trip to America. You wouldn’t believe all the amazing things I saw! We should get together for lunch tomorrow so I can tell you all about it. I’m sure you’re on patrol right now and will be until morning,” she said, leaning back in the camera frame, and he could see that she was dressed in a pair of fluffy white pajamas printed with green aliens in spacesuits. It made him chuckle; she always had adored silly pajamas like that. “I’ve got a bit of jet lag so I’ll be awake for a while, so call me when you get off, okay? Bye-bye now!” she chirped while waving before the video cut off. 

Hitoshi stared at the frozen image of Ochako’s big bright smile, a soft one forming on his own lips. After he’d joined Class A in U.A.’s Hero Course, he’d become fast friends with all of them. However, to everyone’s surprise including his own, he’d gravitated the most to Ochako. She was just so bubbly and bright, the perfect counterpart to his subdued and relaxed personality. He found her endless optimism and drive refreshing, so much so that they still kept up with one another even after graduation. 

His big fat crush on her might have had a little to do with that, though. 

Hitoshi waited impatiently for the police with the waitress. He asked her questions about her daughter, and though she eagerly embraced the small talk to ease her nerves, Hitoshi really just let her responses go in one ear and out the other. He was too busy mentally configuring his schedule, trying to figure out the soonest he could call Ochako. In the end his impatience got the best of him, as he ended up calling her number as the police officers were loading the suspect into the back of the squad car and the other was taking a report from his would-be victim. 

“Wow, that was fast.”

Hitoshi smiled at her cheery voice buzzing on the other end of the line. He leaned against the hood of the patrol car and slid one of his hands into his pants pockets. 

“I just happened to have a break,” he shrugged. “I wanted to call and see how you were settling in after your trip.” 

“I’ve only been gone two weeks, but it still feels kind of weird to be back!” she giggled. He could envision her grabbing one of her fluffy pillows— probably the big sun plushie wearing sunshades— as she reclined against her headboard. “America was incredible! I can totally see how it was the birthplace of heroes. I can’t wait to tell you all about it, ‘Toshi.” 

“Are you sure you can wait until tomorrow?” he joked. In the background, he could hear the police radio crackling about a carjacking and a high-speed chase through town. As the sirens began to wail and red-and-blue lights painted the dark night sky, Hitoshi straightened up and looked around with narrowed eyes. “Hey, Ochako, hold on a minute. I think—” 

He never got time to finish the sentence. 

Everything was a blur as the car came careening down the street, followed closely by a police cruiser. The air filled with squealing tires and burning rubber as the police car braked harshly, but the carjacker had no care to do so, instead opting to plow right through the two police cars parked in the middle of the road in his effort to get away. One of the police officers managed to tackle the waitress into the safety of the alleyway, while the other was bowled over by the criminal, who was attempting to use the chaos to escape, even though he was handcuffed. 

Hitoshi was not so lucky. As the car zoomed past the cruiser, crunching the metal with a sickening sound, it glanced him. Even being glanced by a car going over one hundred miles an hour was enough to send Hitoshi flying back into the alleyway. His phone was slung from his hand as he crashed against the rough ground; he released a strangled gasp as he felt several of his bones snap. As he rolled down the alley, the back of his head smacked against the cobblestone. A white rush flooded through him from head to toe, filling his brain with cotton and his ears with a persistent ring. When he finally came to a rest on his back in a mangled mess of limbs, he was staring uncomprehendingly at the sky, blood leaking out of his lips. 

Dimly, he could hear Ochako’s voice echoing through the alleyway. He’d somehow managed to turn the phone on speaker. 

“‘Toshi? What happened? ‘Toshi? Hitoshi?!” 

The sirens continued wailing. The blue-and-red lights flashed around him like the stars falling to earth. He could feel blood leaking out from the back of his head, coating his lavender hair in thick, sticky globs. The woman was screaming and crying, while the police officers were shouting into their radios for an ambulance. As the darkness encroached on the edges of Hitoshi’s vision, he hung onto Ochako’s frantically screeching voice like a lifeline. 

He had to live. He had to live. He was going to meet her for lunch tomorrow…

~~~~~~~~~~

It began with a dull pounding ache. It thundered at the base of his skull, rising in intensity with each inch he crawled towards consciousness. The persistent pain made him want to drift back into the sweet embrace of sleep, but unfortunately the ache prevented it. He groaned lowly, lolling his head from side-to-side and hitting the hard plastic of the neck brace hugging his throat. His purple lashes fluttered open, and his eyes were greeted with bright, burning white. 

He blinked slowly, uncomprehendingly, at the nondescript white tiles above him. He could hear a heart monitor blinking steadily beside him. He could feel a thin hospital gown rubbing against his bruised skin, the casts wrapping his right arm and leg to immobilize them, and the bandage covering his swollen right eye. He was in a hospital, clearly, but what had landed him there in such a deplorable state? 

As he tried to remember, there was nothing. Emptiness. A blank slate. 

He furrowed his eyebrows in mild panic. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t summon up memories about much of anything. He knew his name— Hitoshi Shinso— but that was it. As he shifted on the bed, breath hitching and his heart rate jumping on the monitor, it alerted the nurses outside. 

“He’s awake!” a nurse called as she bustled in through the doorway. “Hey, hey, it’s all right. You’re safe, in the hospital,” she cooed as she leaned over his bedside. Hitoshi looked at her with wild eyes. “What’s the matter, hun? Are you in pain? Do you need medication?” 

“Don’t remember,” he grumbled. 

“What, honey?” 

“I don’t remember anything…” 

The nurse gasped and straightened up, hand flying to her mouth. She looked nervously at the other nurses crowding the door. As they began to murmur worriedly to one another, the doctor strode in, frowning over Hitoshi’s chart. 

“Doctor, he says he doesn’t remember anything,” the nurse reported in a quiet voice. The professional looked at her before walking to Hitoshi’s side. Hitoshi squirmed uncomfortably under his stern, inquisitive stare. 

“Son, do you know your name?” 

“Hitoshi Shinso.” 

“Do you know how you got here?” 

Hitoshi shook his head as much as the neck brace would allow. “Can you remember anything from the last week?” Another shake of his head. “Last month?” Again, he shook his head. “What do you remember?” 

Hitoshi squeezed his eyes shut as he struggled to summon something, anything, from the recesses of his mind. A few snippets floated up in the sea of emptiness, which served to ease him just a little. “I’m a hero… I graduated from U.A. High School… But I don’t remember going there. I just know I did.” 

“Well,” the doctor sighed as he straightened up, tapping the pages of his chart, “you suffered a basilar skull fracture and an epidural hematoma. We had to puncture your skull to relieve the pressure on your brain, but you still developed a very severe concussion. It seems the head trauma has induced amnesia.” 

Hitoshi’s heart rate skyrocketed, causing the monitor to wail shrilly. 

“Will I get my memory back?” 

“Most likely. It may take some time, however, with an injury like yours. Some of your classmates are here; they’ve been waiting for you to recover from surgery. I can bring them in if you would like. Their presence may help to jump-start the process.” 

Hitoshi nodded robotically, still trying to process the great hole that had suddenly developed in his life. Time seemed to blend together, because the next thing he knew, a green-haired young man was inching into the room with a shaky smile. The doctor probably informed his supposed friends of his amnesia because the freckled boy treaded lightly and carefully— like he was afraid Hitoshi would shatter with one wrong word. 

“Hey, ‘Toshi,” the boy smiled as he pulled up a chair to his bedside. Hitoshi squinted at him. There was something familiar about that quivering smile, nervous twitching, and bright emerald eyes, but that was all. “I’m glad to see it’s okay… It’s me, Deku— er, Izuku Midoriya! Not that you would know that, I guess, considering the amnesia and all… We went to school together, y’know?” 

Hitoshi swallowed, but his mouth was dry so it made it a little difficult. 

“I see,” was all the lavender-haired boy said. At this time, a blond-haired skinny boy with a lightning-shaped streak of black in his bangs bustled in, red-faced and looking like he’d run all the way there. 

“Holy crap, is it true, Deku?” the boy panted, rushing up to grip the back of his chair. Izuku pouted over his shoulder at him. 

“Yeah, Denki… He doesn’t remember anything…” 

“Oh, man,” Denki said while nervously running his hand through his hair. “Ochako’s gonna be devastated…” 

Hitoshi perked up at the name. As soon as it passed Denki’s lips, it sent a jolt of recognition through him. Oddly, aliens and stars and the color pink suddenly came to mind. The two boys immediately noticed his reaction and exchanged hopeful glances. 

“Do you recognize that name?” Izuku asked hopefully. 

“I think so…” Hitoshi said quietly, fisting the scratchy white hospital blanket. “Ochako…” The name seemed to roll off his tongue so perfectly, and it sent a bubbly, happy feeling rising up inside of him. 

“That’s great! She was so worried about you, Hitoshi! It took her forever to get answers out of the first responders, and then she had to handle calling all of us, and then she was really upset when they wouldn’t let her see you because you were in surgery, so she’s been a mess all night—” Izuku babbled, but Hitoshi ignored it as he tried to process the way his heart was fluttering at the hazy image of a sweet round-faced brunette trying to surface in the void of his mind. 

“I think… I think I was in love with her.” 

Izuku stopped mid-sentence, emerald eyes blowing wide. Denki had his hand over his mouth as Hitoshi looked at them in muddled confusion. “Were we dating?” 

“Uh… no,” Denki coughed uncomfortably. Hitoshi’s frown deepened and he looked back down at the blanket. If that was the case, then why did just the mention of her name summon up a sense of deep fondness and happiness within him? “But, uh,” Denki continued, scratching at the side of his face, “we’ve all known you’ve had a crush on her for a long time— everyone but Ochako, that is.” 

“Denki!” Izuku gasped scoldingly, whirling around in his chair. 

“What?! The man’s got amnesia! I gotta help him out, right?” the blond argued defensively. Hitoshi was too busy blushing to listen to their quibbling. So, I do love her… But she doesn’t know. So, did I never tell her? Why not? 

“‘Toshi? Where is he? ‘Toshi! Hitoshi!” 

As she came barging in the room, tears streaming down her ruddy cheeks and brunette hair a mess, he immediately knew why. Even flustered and sobbing and disoriented from lack of sleep, she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever clapped eyes on. Even with no memories, he knew that. She tripped over his IV cord in her effort to scramble to him, face-planting against the tile floor. He jolted up in bed, the heart rate monitor picking up the leap in his heartbeat, but she was so frantic that she immediately recovered and practically threw herself down on the bed beside him. 

“I was so worried!” she sobbed, grabbing at the blankets as her tears rained down on his face and into his lavender hair. “We were— we were on the phone, and, and then, there was this big crash, and then the sirens, and— oh my God, ‘Toshi, you wouldn’t answer me, and no one would tell me anything, and I-I-I— oh, ‘Toshi, I’m so glad you’re alive!” she rambled through her tears before burying her face into his chest. Hitoshi grunted when pain flared across his body as his broken ribs crunched under the assault, but like hell he was going to say anything. Ochako wailed into him, drowning the thin cloth of the gown with tears and snot. As her body wracked and heaved, it jolted Hitoshi a little, but he gritted his teeth through the little stabs of pain. 

When she’d calmed down enough, she quietly asked against his chest, “Is it true? You have amnesia?” 

“Yes,” he admitted in a small breath. Ochako breathed in deeply, shakily. Then, she shot up, her teary brown eyes gleaming with determination. 

“That’s okay! We can work through it!” Hitoshi’s heart fluttered at her use of “we.” She grabbed his hands and squeezed them tight, giving him a watery smile. “I’ll be with you every step of the way, ‘Toshi. We’re gonna get you better, okay?” she said softly and threaded her fingers through his lavender hair. Her fingers skimmed over the shaved patch in his head and the sutures from where they’d had to split his skull open, and she hiccuped as a fresh wave of tears streamed down her cheeks. “I-it’s gonna be okay.” 

He wanted to tell her that of course it was, now that she was here. But words failed him, as he was too lost in the watery sea of her chocolate-brown eyes and the feeling that everything really was going to be okay. He remembered Ochako, and that was enough comfort to him to face all the trials ahead. 

~~~~~~~~~~

He was discharged from the hospital a week later. In addition to his head injuries, he’d sustained a broken arm and leg, three broken ribs, two fractured cervical vertebrae, and a myriad of scrapes and bruises. Because of the severity of his wounds and his amnesia, it was difficult for Hitoshi to manage by himself, so his friends took it upon themselves to care for him. Nothing humbles you like being unable to do even the most menial tasks, like put on clothes or bathe yourself. Hitoshi’s friends took it in stride, though, and always batted away his emotional expressions of gratitude. “It’s just what friends do,” they said. 

It made Hitoshi wish he remembered their friendships. Maybe then it would make him feel less like a charity case. 

Though his friends rotated shifts around their hero duties to help him throughout the day, Ochako always cooked dinner for him— without fail, every night. They would always insist on sharing the load, she stubbornly refused them. Toting in groceries, sometimes still in her hero uniform and beat up from the toil of the day, she’d grin determinedly. 

“My mom always said that nothing helps you heal faster than a good meal. That’s how I can help!” 

Hitoshi couldn’t find the words to tell her that her presence helped him heal more than food ever could. He’d sit in his wheelchair watching her cook, the way she turned up the radio and danced around the kitchen singing into the wooden spoon. Swinging her hips, she’d whirl around to serenade him with a goofy smile. Hitoshi never knew the words to the songs. He’d just grin back, charmed by her zest for life. It was so dazzling, so blinding, that even now he couldn’t find the courage to tell her how he felt. She was like the sun, so radiant and sublime that he felt like he couldn’t ever compete. 

He should say something to her. Really, he should. But… the words just couldn’t come, just like his memories. 

Three weeks in, Hitoshi’s memories had trickled in somewhat. Most of them were dredged up by old stories his friends told him, so there were still tons of gaps. Still, it made Hitoshi feel a little better; he no longer felt like he was trapped in a void and a stranger to himself. Looking back, it was a terribly scary and lonely feeling, for others to know more about you than you did. Though the doctor kept telling him to give it time, Hitoshi had already resolved himself to the fact that maybe he might not ever get them all back. His past would just be a jigsaw puzzle of little snatches of memory and secondhand information. 

As much as he tried to convince himself that it was all right, he couldn’t. He hated the not knowing— the not knowing all that time he was in love with Ochako besides those feelings. He wanted all of it, every moment he’d ever had with her to treasure and savor. It was maddening, not having that, so Hitoshi decided to just make do with the new moments. Now, if he could just get over himself and ask her out. 

“‘Toshi? Do you not like it?” 

Ochako’s sweet voice dragged him out of his thoughts. He was reclined on the couch with a bowl of noodles growing cold in his hand, the fork still halfway raised to his lips. It had been a new recipe, Ochako had said. Hurriedly, he scooped the noodles into his mouth and gave her an approving hum. 

“No, sorry. I was just lost in thought. It’s really good.” 

Ochako smiled relievedly, melting into his armchair. She set her empty bowl of noodles on the coffee table, idly flipping through the television channels as Hitoshi finished off his food before it really did grow cold and unappetizing. Eventually, Ochako decided there was nothing worth watching and flipped off the television. She rose to get their dirty dishes, and Hitoshi watched her with lidded lilac eyes. How could every move a person made be pure magic? As she waltzed out the room into the kitchen, the fluidness of her body just amazed him. 

Yet… something was wrong. He could tell. Her body was tense, the edges of her smile crinkled, her eyebrows just barely furrowed. She tried to pass it off with a smile to him as she walked back in, but Hitoshi wasn’t buying it. As she proposed renting a movie, he cut her off, gesturing for her to approach. Confused, she walked over and sat on the edge of the coffee table beside him. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he ordered. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment at Hitoshi’s brusque command. She shifted on the wood, pressing her hands between her thighs and rolling her bottom lip under her front teeth. Hitoshi waited patiently for the girl to gather her thoughts. 

“I haven’t been sleeping,” she admitted finally. “I’m tired.” Now that she brought it up, he could see the dark lines ringing the undersides of her eyes and the way that her body sagged. He wordlessly ordered her to elaborate, making her cheeks flood darker. “I… Ever since the accident, I’ve had nightmares, ‘Toshi,” she said hoarsely. The tears sprung to her eyes and began to roll down her cheeks, making her try and wipe them away with the heels of her palms. “That was the worst night of my life, hearing those awful sounds and not knowing what was going on, and— it felt like forever before I could finally find you, and then they told me you were in surgery and you might not make it, and I just— oh, I can’t get it out of my head. That night is just on replay for me, over and over.

And the worst part is that it’s so selfish of me!” she wailed, leaning over and burying her face into her hands. “You were the one in the accident, not me! If anything, you should be the one who’s haunted by it and I have no right to complain, but I… but I… I feel trapped…” she moaned miserably. “If I hadn’t picked up the phone… Then maybe you wouldn’t have ended up like this…” she revealed in a harsh whisper. 

“Oh, Ochako, no!” Hitoshi cried. In his effort to comfort her, he slid off the couch a little, making his brittle bones flare painfully in protest. He didn’t care. Clumsily, he gathered the crying girl into his arms and dragged her onto the couch with him. It was a tight fit, but she still curled into his side, crying into his shoulder as he hugged her tightly with his good arm. “God, Ochako, don’t blame yourself for what happened to me. It wasn’t your fault.” 

“But… If I had done something different…” she protested weakly, shaking her head and smearing her tears across his shoulder. To snap her out of her spiral, he pinched her cheek and tugged hard. She shot up into a sitting position, looking at him with wide eyes and her teeth and tongue peeking out from underneath her stretched lips. “‘Toshi… Ow… Tha’ hursh...” she slurred in protest and blinked rapidly as the tears continued to prickle at her eyes. 

“Listen to me,” he said sternly. “The accident was not your fault. It was just a freak thing, okay? If anything, it’s my fault for picking up the phone because I couldn’t wait until my patrol was over to call you.” As he spoke, the memories of that night and all the nights before came flooding back. As they rushed in like water, the flow of his words rose in tandem. “I was just so excited that you were back that I just had to hear your voice, right then, and I wasn’t paying attention to anything but you, and—” 

He stopped short, cheeks flooding pink as he realized what exactly was tumbling out of his mouth. Ochako stared dumbly at him, a little drool leaking from the corner of her mouth as he was still stretching it. He stiffly released her, causing the skin to snap back. There were pink imprints in her skin where he’d pinched it; she slowly reached up to rub at it, blinking sluggishly.

Well. The cat was out of the bag now, so Hitoshi might as well let it go wild. 

“Ochako… I don’t want you here every day because you feel responsible for what happened to me.” He smiled softly and reached up to cover her hand in his own, cupping her cheek. “I want you here because I love you. I’ve always loved you.” 

“You remembered?” she asked meekly. As a fresh wave of tears streamed from her eyes, Hitoshi’s smile widened, and he thumbed them away. 

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “I never forgot, Ochako.” 

She sucked in a breath, then let it out shakily. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed a few times, tearfully processing the situation. After a few minutes of just silently crying next to Hitoshi, her cheeks began to flood pink again. 

“I… I would really like it if you kissed me right now,” she admitted bashfully. Hitoshi snorted with laughter, but hell, who was he to refuse? He gently moved his hand to the back of her head to pull her forward. Ochako melted into his touch, allowing him to maneuver her as he would to bring her face close. Her hands felt onto his chest, digging into the soft fabric of his tee-shirt. Hitoshi held her there for a moment, centimeters away, to admire the gorgeous view of her lidded brown eyes and flushed cheeks. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed. Her blush darkened and she shyly bit down on her bottom lip. He chuckled as she wiggled in impatience but opted against teasing her more. He closed his eyes and the gap between them, pressing their lips together in a sweet but passionate kiss. Ochako hummed as his mouth smoothed over hers, so naturally like it had always belonged there. Hitoshi kissed her languidly, savoring the softness of her lips and the aftertaste of chicken broth that was oddly pleasurable. Nothing promotes healing like a good meal, he thought with a mischievous smirk. Ochako would probably explode from mortification if he told her that. She was so cute when she was flustered, though, that it might always be worth saying. 

They kissed idly for quite a while, until their faces were flushed and they were a little out of breath. Ochako had draped herself over his chest and wormed her legs between his, careful not to jar his mending bones. She looped her arms around his neck to play with the ends of his fluffy lavender hair, chin propped on his chest so close that he could lean in and peck her lips every once in a while. 

“What are you thinking?” she asked him after he’d been quiet for some time. A smile slowly spread across his lips. 

“I was thinking…” he said, pausing to give her another soft, sweet kiss, “that we never had that lunch date, did we?” 

A smile slowly spread across her face, lighting her up like the sun. Bright as it was, Hitoshi couldn’t tear his gaze away; he wouldn’t, even if it blinded him forever. He would be glad if it was the last thing he ever saw. Giggling, Ochako snuggled into him, fluttering her long brown lashes. 

“No, we didn’t. You asked for one heck of a raincheck.” 

Hitoshi scoffed, making her stick out her tongue mischievously at him. One heck of a raincheck, indeed. That was okay, though. Even sad moments were moments, too, and Hitoshi valued every moment with Ochako like the most priceless jewel on Earth. Though he’d like to collect every one he could, he thought as they cuddled and began to drowse, he wouldn’t mind stretching this one out a little. It marked the beginning of new memories, after all.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Seahorse (Spencer Reid x Trans Male!Reader) NSFW

Summary: Spencer and Y/N have always wanted kids. Here’s the time Spencer was brave enough to broach the subject of how they would go about it. Plus a few more times after that.

AN: @imagining-in-the-margins​ came up with the idea of Spencer’s trans bf having a baby amidst man many many prompts for Spencer x male!reader to indulge my daydreaming and I ran with this prompt. 

Thank you to @writing-in-april​ for being my beta on this one! Couldn’t have done it without you, beebs <3

This is the NSFW version. If you are under the age of 18, please do not read! Here’s a SFW version of the story.

Word Count: 5.7k words 

Content Warnings: Trans man is pregnant, coming off testosterone, impregnation kink, pre-op sex, allusions to Prison!Spencer.

Masterlist // Gif Credit // SFW Version

The halls echoed with the unbridled joy of little ones calling out “Nemo” and “Dory” at the sight of the clown and surgeon fishes. Spencer bounced on the balls of his feet as he looked around the next room in search of his goal. He stopped when Y/N spared a look in his direction, away from the tank that had captured his attention for a solid five minutes.

“JJ sent me a video of a shrimp solving a Rubik’s Cube the other day.” He grinned.

Ah yes. JJ had also sent Spencer a video of little Henry swinging a mini softball bat about just like Spencer had done. For one game and one game only he had insisted, despite Y/N’s own resolve that he looked hot in the kit.

The walk through the tunnel was the slowest slog Spencer felt, but it was the only attraction in the aquarium to properly distract him. Lights above them filtered through the water, bouncing off the painted walls of the tank in a blue glow. Various species in a perfectly balanced ecosystem swam around one another without a care in the world. A particular stingray flapped its body against the glass, and three children nearby laughed at its funny shaped mouth.

“I used to sit on my mum’s shoulders when we walked through these. Touch the ceiling as if I could pet the fishes.” And Y/N’s hands stretched up over him, his eyes following a shark that slinked overhead, “When I got too old, I’d just press my nose against the glass and stare back.”

Nerves returned at the sight of a circular tank in the centre of the room holding something familiar. Seahorses curled their tails around the plants that waved together like a crowd at a concert. Little babies bobbed about the parents, translucent and wriggly.

Spencer coughed and spoke while Y/N took in the creatures, “Did you know that the seahorse is the only animal where the male carries the children?”

Suddenly his throat was dry; the words he’d been rehearsing dragged to a halt. Y/N turned to face him properly, guiding Spencer to the left as a little girl stood on tiptoe to see the seahorses as he continued to struggle.

“Well, that might not be true actually.” Spencer choked a little on his words, his voice’s volume steadily declining into a soft whisper, “I know that some human men can have babies.”

Y/N’s face clouded with doubt for a moment. Then it clicked and his face cleared, “Spencer, tell me what you’re getting at.”

Spencer twisted his hands around one another, “Have you ever thought about us having kids… biologically?” He watched Y/N’s Adam’s apple dip as he swallowed hard

“You mean like me being pregnant?”

“Yes, have you considered it an option for us?”

The conversations of other aquarium patrons were forgotten as Y/N took his gaze away from Spencer. His eyebrows were low as he considered his words carefully. Y/N always thought about the implications of what he was saying, maybe a little too much. Spencer could be biased though; his impatience did not mix well with his anxieties.

Eventually, Y/N turned back with a brave face and said, “I’d have to think about it some more.”

“Ok.” Spencer nodded, his chin wobbling a little.

There was hope though: he needed to think “some more”. Implying Y/N had thought about this before.

Near the end of their trip, Spencer did find himself in a staring contest with a little seahorse plushie with large eyes and an anatomically inaccurate tongue hanging out. In all honesty, it was kind of ugly.

“Spencer, come on. You know how I get around stuffed animals.”

How empathetic his boyfriend really was, projecting feelings of love onto the inanimate objects then making the excuse that he had to buy it now.

Spencer did have to leave the toy behind though. Out into the sunlight of the parking lot, he winced before he put his sunglasses back on.

“Park?” Y/N offered his hand and smiled. It was an olive branch, something to say that Spencer’s query had not ruined their day out together.

Spencer accepted and squeezed his hand. “Park.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

 Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Y/N had a hand on their lower belly, some space between the fingers as if there was an invisible bump there to accommodate. His head had tilted while he thumbed over the air.

As drowsy as Spencer was from work, his mind was focused without a distraction on what he had seen through the ajar bathroom door. He could barely pay attention to the Doctor Who episode Y/N put on. In fact, he doubted anything could take his attention away from the idea of having a child with-

“What do you think about me being pregnant?”

Spencer’s eyes shot wide open, then they were covered slightly by his inquisitive eyebrows in his attempt find an answer. Especially with Y/N looking on him while he waited for him.

“I think you’d be so beautiful carrying our baby. But if you wouldn’t be comfortable, then I wouldn’t make you. We still have surrogacy, fostering, adoption to consider,” was his answer. Never a lie, but the truth was always softened.

Seemingly satisfied, Y/N looked back at the episode. But Spencer couldn’t wait anymore, forgetting about anything else in the world except for this.

“What do you think, Y/N?” His body leant in towards his boyfriend’s.

Squirming in their spot on the couch, Y/N hummed before he answered, “I froze some of my eggs before I started my transition. I also sold some, for a down payment on a house or my wedding.”

Spencer’s heart thrilled at the possibilities. A house together? Matching suits at their wedding? He almost neglected to think about the fact that pregnancy was suddenly a very viable option for their future.

Regardless of Spencer’s many, many thoughts, Y/N continued, “And I thought that perhaps, if I found the right person, I would like to carry their child.” His palm opened up to him and Spencer instantly took it. “I know you’re the right person, but I’m not sure I want a baby now.”

“Of course,” Spencer lifted Y/N’s hand to his lips, “Whenever we’re both ready.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Spencer pushed the dirty bedsheets into the washing machine; it wasn’t that big a deal. If the blood didn’t come out, then they could always buy a new set. Although they should really be saving money for decorating the nursery.

“Spenceerrrr.”

As the machine rumbled into life, Spencer returned to Y/N, curled up on the sofa with a heat pad to his gut. No amount of warnings from their doctor could have prepared Spencer for how emotionally straining it was to see his boyfriend suffering. Y/N was taking this a lot harder than Spencer – and rightfully so, it was his body that was changing.

“Why did I have to have such strong paternal instincts?” He grumbled with his eyes still closed.

Spencer let out a laugh, but it was cut off quick when Y/N whimpered loudly. He knelt down before him and cupped his face. Y/N’s cheeks were warm; his hands clung to Spencer’s wrists like a lifeline.

“What do you need?” Spencer asked softly and Y/N sighed, keening into his cooler palms.

“Can you tell me I’m handsome please?”

“You are the most handsome man in the world, and I adore you every minute of every day.” Spencer kissed Y/N’s pouting lips gently, “Handsome inside and out, I never wanna think about life without you. You just make everything in my life better.”

His fingers moved to brush away a tear that slipped down Y/N’s face and over the ridge of his nose. But he missed and it dripped onto the pillow.

“You’re doing so much for us, for our baby.”

“It’s not even real yet,” Y/N sniffled. His hands finally released Spencer and pressed the heat pad into him.

“It’s gonna be.” Spencer bumped their noses together, “We’re gonna be dads.”

A hoarse laugh met with a hint of a groan in Y/N’s chest, “Yeah. We’re gonna be dads.” That sound and those words were all Spencer needed to feel better. But he wished the same could be said for Y/N. The only thing he could provide was a promise of future relief:

“How about we order in tonight?”

“Ugh, yes.” Y/N burrowed his face into the pillow.

When their bed was made up properly, Spencer and Y/N cuddled together. Unfortunately, Y/N was restless, trying to find a comfortable position while his painkillers kicked in. Spencer kept his complaints to himself, allowing himself to be shifted around in Y/N’s hunt for relief. Honestly it was the least he could do.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

“The reproductive process begins when a male and a female seahorse do daily pre-dawn dances, intertwining their tails and swimming together.”

“Well, it’s nearly nine, so definitely past dawn.”

“I’m trying to be romantic, Y/N.”

Y/N adjusted the bed sheets around his middle, “We don’t have tails either and - if I remember correctly - your last sexy swimming encounter ended poorly.”

Spencer flushed at the memory of Lila in the pool; another memory turned the pink to red. Y/N had laughed so hard his gut ached when Spencer told him about how awkward he had been around Lila. This was before the context of the case had been disclosed, promptly removing the space for any more laughter.

“Baby?”

Y/N was touching his face. Spencer’s head emptied itself of all thoughts of Lila. This was not what he wanted to be thinking about right now. Y/N’s laughter maybe, but none of the rest.

Tucking a curl behind his ear, Y/N leant in close, “If I’m ready, and you’re ready, you know what happens.” His eyes wandered down Spencer’s face, “And it’s not swimming together.”

But, just as their lips were about to touch, Y/N jerked away from him. “Wait, I gotta brush my teeth first.”

Spencer moaned with indignation while falling backwards onto the bed as Y/N disappeared from view. A few seconds later, he heard the electric toothbrush buzzing. With a burst of energy, he stripped himself down to his underwear – a petty way to get back at Y/N who had made it very clear that undressing Spencer was one of his favourite parts of their sex life.

When Y/N returned, with the minty freshness he apparently desired more than his own boyfriend, he said “What? You already did this morning?”  His eyes looked down at Spencer’s chest and his lips twitched into a pout. 

Spencer held back his grin, keeping his triumph at retaliation to himself as he said, “I wouldn’t have minded.”

“That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard, Spencer.”

And with that, Y/N crawled onto the bed, over Spencer’s body and kissed him silly.

Any remaining thoughts of sleep were dispelled as the men took turns worshipping each other’s bodies. Impatience chased them in their desires, deliciously enticing them to push the pleasure further and faster. While Y/N kissed his neck, Spencer’s thoughts fixated on how perfect his boyfriend felt pressed up next to him. He couldn’t wait anymore, he just had to get inside him.

“Let me put a baby in you, Y/N.”

A whine passed through Y/N’s lips at his words as he adjusted his grasp on Spencer’s body, a hand in his hair to pull him back in.

“Do it.” He whispered into the space between them, “Please.”

As quick as they appeared, the insecurities Spencer and Y/N were holding released. Their moans harmonised when Spencer finally pushed into Y/N. His legs wrapping around his skinny waist, luring him in. Spencer was enraptured by the feeling of his boyfriend’s weight against him. God, he wanted to go slow, appreciate Y/N for all he was worth. But his greed got the better of his intentions, eating up all of Y/N’s encouragements – both the words and the noises snatched from his throat.

When they were both spent, Spencer and Y/N sagged into the mattress, wrapped up in each other and the covers. The burning warmth of their bodies drew up two soporific smiles on their faces.

“You know, a seahorses’ body shape means that they’re inept swimmers, and they can actually die of exhaustion.”

Y/N poked Spencer’s sternum. “Is that your way of makin’ fun of my stamina? Give me a few minutes; I’ll be on you like a rash.”

Grinning at such a prospect, Spence continued, “They also mate for life monogamously.”

He felt two fingers touch his cheek, "Spencer, I love you and your endless fountain of knowledge.” Y/N paused to peck the corner of his lips, “But I’m not actually a seahorse. And, though I do plan to mate with you for life, if you wake me up before the sun is above the horizon for a ‘dance’, I'm gonna suffocate you with my new body pillow.”

“Oh, you got your pillow?”

“It’s en route.” Hence why Y/N was content to use Spencer in lieu of said pillow.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

When Spencer disclosed to Hotch that he would need some time off because he and Y/N were considering having a kid, first thing on a Monday morning, Hotch didn’t let anything on. There was a hint of a hint of a smile though. His eye wandered to the school photo of Jack he kept on his desk, and he was greeted with the memory that Jack almost shared a name with Emily’s cat.

Naturally, Rossi found out next. Technophobe Spencer Reid had left his computer screen on a website for baby blankets, and Rossi had been the one to pass by first. After turning the monitor off, Rossi took Spencer aside in the break room and spoke about how wonderful it was that he was going to be a father. Then he kissed both his cheeks, leaving with misty eyes and a smile that he wouldn’t explain to Penelope passing by. Spencer blinked then finished making his coffee.

The next conference room meeting – the same day and just for an update on the paperwork deadline - Spencer simply decided to drop the information that he and Y/N were planning on having a kid as if it was his thoughts on their next unsub’s motivations were.

Three seconds of silence later and an uproar exploded.

From then on, the week was filled with pokes and ribbing at his upcoming parenthood. A peek into the future.

After making her a cup of coffee, Spencer sat opposite JJ at her desk and asked for advice. Her response: offering Spencer the opportunity to babysit Henry more. Obviously he accepted; more time with his godson was always a good thing. Then she went into how parenting was just a natural thing that he would know when the time came. Not very reassuring on its own, but with his best friend’s support, Spencer felt a smidgen better.

Penelope admitted that she had saved outfit ideas on Pinterest for Spencer – among other members of the BAU. When Spencer dared to enter her lair, she showed him several. Apparently that wasn’t even a dent in her collection, and she had already placed an order on a little bow tie. Spencer left before she tried to organise a shopping trip; neither Spencer nor Y/N were really fans of retail therapy.

Derek was teasing away, “Spencer and Y/N are gonna be baby daddies.” And every single time, Emily would join in. She liked to claim she was the reason Spencer was having a kid, reminding him of when JJ was pregnant. He had been incredibly weirded out by the baby kicking, but Emily had asked if he had considered having “baby geniuses” and he never gave an answer.

To be fair, Spencer never could have seen this coming. That made it all the better.

Apart from when Derek began supplying a realm of baby names, that varied from “oh that’s actually cute” to “oh my god, why would you even consider that a name for a real child?” Spencer was happy to rank them aloud for him.

The cat was only half out of the bag though.

Now Spencer had always been affectionate when he and Y/N were together. But the second it spilled into their public lifestyle, Y/N knew something was afoot. He was quick to pick up on this when he went to collect Spencer up for a chilled date night and Spencer kissed his cheek in clear view of the entire bullpen.

“You told them, didn’t you?”

“I couldn’t wait, but I do have my paternity leave arranged!”

The team swarmed to deliver their congratulations. And it was then that they revealed that they all thought that Spencer and Y/N were planning to adopt or look for a surrogate. Their embraces didn’t spoil the unexpected second part of their announcement; Y/N looked like he’d simply put on a few pounds rather than gained a baby bump beneath his button-up. Naturally, there was even more of a hubbub than before when they discovered that Y/N was already pregnant.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

“Spencer, baby, you gotta calm it with the ocean theme.”

“But…” he pouted, holding up the finished mobile. Brightly painted sea creatures and chunks of coral dangled delicately in a circle. Sure enough, there were orange seahorses hovering about their habitat.

“It’s very sweet and I adore you for it,” Y/N kissed Spencer. “Not everything has to be related to seahorses though.”

“I guess not.” Spencer’s defeated tone did not last long. His face brightened and he whipped a blanket adorned with little seahorses and bubbles at the edges out of the cot. “But - this online store was taking commissions, and you always say support small businesses!”

Thank god Y/N had been the one in charge of painting the walls. An underwater mural would have been a step too far.

“You, Doctor Spencer Reid, are so…” Y/N’s hands were up in the air between them, searching for an adjective to describe Spencer appropriately. Then he settled those hands on his shoulders and Y/N kissed him.

When they drew away, Spencer spoke, “I’m so what?”

Y/N shrugged, “Just so.” He kissed him again, lingering longer than before and smiling as Spencer’s hands touched the obtrusive roundness of his belly that pressed into Spencer’s stomach. They were so close to meeting their little bubba.

“So are you.”

“Ok, don’t have a go, I bought this before the ban,” Y/N held out a gift, wrapped in sea-green tissue paper and bearing a blue bow.

Folding the blanket neatly over the bars of the cot, Spencer eagerly yet daintily unwrapped the present. As the tissue paper fell to the carpet, his hands trembled.  Eyes shining, he couldn’t bring himself to look away from the latest scan that was framed by tiny seahorses to thank Y/N.

There was more still, as Y/N explained, “There’s another behind there. I’ve seen the state of the one in your wallet.”

“It got caught at the bottom of the pouch,” Spencer said quietly, unbending the catch on the back of the frame. Sure enough, two of the same photographs spilled into his waiting palm. Truth be told, Spencer had already taped his torn photo together again and it was going to stay in his wallet. This spare would be in the post soon, on its way over to his mother. God, she was so excited to hold a baby again. The photo album would have to do for now.

“Could you maybe recant the ocean ban? Because I saw this and I knew it would really go well with the blanket and the mobile.”

Sighing, Y/N’s head tilted back, “What is it?”

The pretence of annoyance couldn’t be maintained towards Spencer’s face beaming back at him as he held up a wonky looking seahorse plushie. It wasn’t the same one he’d seen before. Some heartfelt child had taken pity on that one and given it a forever home. No, this was a perfect little present for his bubba.

Y/N thought so too as he let a grin settle onto his face.

“Ok, we can keep this one. But no more from now, alright?”

“I suppose. Besides, our baby isn’t our seahorse. You are!”

“You better not buy us a fish tank for my birthday.” A spike of nerves hit Y/N when he couldn’t quite catch Spencer’s eye to confirm his word. “Spencer? Promise me... Spencer!”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

“How are you feeling, Baby Daddy?” Derek hugged Y/N who was reclined in his bed. His body pillow propped him up for his visitors.

Y/N wrinkled his nose, “For once, I wish I was a real seahorse and I could have just sneezed her out.”

Katia Nikola Reid definitely looked like she’d been sneezed on when she first entered the world, screaming her teaspoon-sized lungs out. Named after a hero of both Y/N and Spencer, one day old, bundled in a blanket, she scowled at Spencer’s dopey face looming over her while Emily held her tight.

A hoard of presents huddled in the corner of Spencer and Y/N’s bedroom. Emily thought it’d be a great idea to bring the baby an Ikea shark that was bigger than the child – and would definitely take up around half of her cot.

“She’s already got him wrapped around her pinky finger.”

“Yes, she does,” Spencer agreed giddily.

Next, Derek took her in his arms, untucking her arms from the blanket swaddle to give her a fist bump. He swayed her about the room while Katia relaxed a little more. The deep humming in his chest soothed the wrinkles on her forehead. Katia stretched as if to touch his face, and her mouth gaped at him.

“Aww, baby genius is ready for a nap.” Derek yawned too, “Who’s gonna micromanage me while I put her down?”

“Me! Me!” Y/N said, his enthusiasm muted by tiredness. Spencer leapt to his side, helping him out of bed, his teammates watching fondly as he did so. Y/N was allowed out the room first, Derek close behind and clicking his tongue at little Katia.

“She’s so sweet,” Emily said, her eyes on the pair’s backs and the dangling loose blanket from under Derek’s left arm. “I’m so happy for you both.” And she hugged Spencer tight; Emily always gave such good hugs. Good thing she was going to be around to give plenty to his daughter.

Then, down the hall, he heard Derek say with sarcastic resignation, “Oh Spencer, I thought Y/N was kidding when he said no more seahorse themed items.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Y/N ended up climbing into the bathtub with Katia. Even as she had grown into her chubby features, looking more and more like him and Spencer with each passing day, she was still so small.

Sitting up with her in his lap to help her out, Y/N lowered her into the warm water. His fingers tenderly rubbed the blackcurrant scented soap on her tummy, copying her expression as her tongue poked out between her gums. Her jerking legs rejected the water that Y/N’s hands cupped to rinse the bubbles off.

“Oh!” Y/N said in surprise as Katia sneezed, “Bless you.”

He heard the front door go, but he let Spencer follow the clues to their bathroom. Sure enough, the Doctor soon entered with his jacket shed, already rolling his sleeves up as he dropped onto the bathmat. A hand curled at Y/N’s chin as he kissed him before it stroked over the damp wisps of hair on Katia’s head.

“Hello. Hi.” His voice was that bit more delicate as he caught Katia’s eye and welcomed her big gappy smile.

Y/N tilted his head towards Spencer. “Good first day back?”

“I missed you both.” Spencer swished the water around by Katia’s side, “Isn’t it incredible how she’s experiencing all of this for the first time?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

Spencer giggled away as the surrounding bathwater yellowed and Katia flapped her arms.

“Mind your language.” He said without any weight to his warning, “Our little girl can’t help it.” Then he stood and prepared her towel, a deep-sea blue that brought out her eyes. “Can I feed her tonight?”

“Of course, baby,” Y/N agreed as he lifted Katia out of the tub, where Spencer caught her and bundled her up with skilled speed. As he dried her off, Katia cooed away to herself. She did get a little pissed off when he dressed her up in a clean nappy and a sleepsuit, but Spencer couldn’t take her crumpled expression seriously without the tears.

The rocking chair had to be one of his best investments for his daughter’s room. It soothed Katia from the darkest of tantrums, a familiarity that swayed her. She fit so perfectly into Spencer’s arms and he fit so contentedly into the seat. Her eyelashes fluttered slowly shut as she drank more milk.

Not quite strong enough to sit up on her own, Katia leant fully into Spencer’s hand while he burped her – thankfully not for long. Then it was off into her cot.

Y/N watched him from the doorway as Spencer stroked the apple of Katia’s cheek while she drifted off into slumber. An effortless smile danced on his lips even as he switched the lamp off and welcomed Y/N over to see their sleeping babe.

“Love seeing you with her, Old Daddy Spencer teaching her everything she’ll need to know.” The kiss that followed was certainly not appropriate for their daughter’s nursery, so he took Y/N by the hand, leading him into the hallway. Even then, between the short pecks that pressed against his lips, Y/N continued to talk, “Is this how you felt while I was pregnant?”

Breath hot against his face, Spencer swallowed hard while Y/N said, “Seeing my handsome boyfriend carrying our child? I think I get it now.”

His hand slipped up Spencer’s shirt. It was crystal clear what his intentions were. Spencer was already close to panting when he pulled Y/N flush against him. With more desperation this time, they fumbled around their home until they made it to their bed. Spencer’s hands aligned with the stretch marks on Y/N’s thighs as he grabbed them and pulled him on top.

He huffed as Y/N’s teeth tugged and released his bottom lip, “We have to be quiet.”

“I can be quiet.” Y/N ripped off his shirt in one smooth movement, “Can you?”

Spencer couldn’t give an answer. Instead he pulled Y/N back against him as they fell onto their sheets.

Their first time in months, it didn’t last very long, but it was exactly what they needed.

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

 The biggest surprise of the evening was that Rossi put down his drink to hold Katia. To be fair though, he had already had a few. Hence why he was singing and dancing around the garden with Katia in his arms. What a sight to behold, it eased the pain of Derek and Hotch’s absence, their own kids to take care of now.

Eventually Rossi relented, allowing Penelope to take Katia, turning to Y/N who had kept a watchful eye on his actions, “Promise me you’ll bring her over when she’s allowed to eat food.”

“I can’t give her your food for her first taste. She’ll be disappointed for the rest of her life,” Y/N joked, Rossi letting out a boisterous laugh that made Katia giggle in turn.

Penelope got to hold Katia next and show her off to Henry who was very intrigued to learn more about his godsister – Spencer told him that was who Katia was and it stuck. Henry became Penelope’s little shadow until they found a seat for him and a cushion for his lap to hold the baby. His joy unbridled at such a responsibility was adorable. He posed for many photos, while Katia for once stayed quiet.

Spencer was tired but the best kind of tired. A night in with friends, watching his boyfriend and his daughter be welcomed as much as he was, it wasn’t a surprise but it was always a delight. And this moment right now, Y/N cradling Katia’s with one hand squeezing her little foot before he planned to take her into Rossi’s office? What a life they had cultivated together. As he sipped his drink, the bliss in his tummy was not doused by it.

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Slouching on the sofa, Spencer watched with tired eyes as Katia stumbled in the room, her hands held in Y/N’s while she waddled between his legs. Her round face lit up at the sight of Spencer. Her pace increased beyond her abilities and Katia swung forward a little as she almost fell over.

“Oh dear,” Y/N cooed while Katia got back to her unstable feet. “That’s it, there we go.”

Spencer wished he had the energy to properly appreciate this moment, especially since both his boyfriend and their daughter were grinning like they shared a secret.

Katia dropped down onto her nappy-cushioned bottom then began to crawl over to Spencer’s feet. His hands, although dirty, rough and near ruined, accepted her offer and lifted Katia up into his lap. They stayed for safety around her middle, keeping her sat up straight as she looked on him with those big eyes. Eyes that were fresh and untainted copies of his own.

Y/N sat down beside Spencer, leaning in close to Katia so he caught her attention, “Hey, why don’t you show your Daddy what we’ve been practicing?”

Looking away from both her Dads, Katia drooled and pushed her fist in her mouth. Y/N waved until he and Spencer were back into her line of sight.

“Go on, sugar plum.” He pointed to Spencer, “Who’s that?” And he mouthed the answer to her.

“Dadadadadada.”

It was barely above a whisper. But her little grin, the top of a tooth poking out of the centre of her bottom gums, the way Katia looked at Spencer when she said it? A soft “oh” fell from Spencer’s lips and he clutched her close, her chubby arms barely reaching around his neck. His breath shaking out of him, he kissed the thick thatch of hair that had sprouted in his absence. He could feel Katia whispering “Dadadadada!” again.

“That’s me, Katia, I’m your Dada.” He sniffed back the sting in his eyes at the absolute proof that, in his time away from her, she had remembered him. When he moved away, placing Katia back into his lap, he closed his eyes as Katia’s scrabbling fingers rubbed across the tip of his nose.

Katia made a sudden attempt to stand, throwing her entire bodyweight towards Spencer. Spencer’s breath was snatched from his lungs and the tension remained even after he caught her with ease.

“You ok?” Y/N said and Spencer noticed that his hand was supporting his against Katia.

Spencer nodded weakly, “Hmm, you?”

“Better now.” Y/N let his hand go and began rubbing Spencer’s back in the same circular motions that Spencer rubbed Katia’s.

A tug snagged Spencer’s head to the left and he tutted as Katia grabbed at his cheek, “Ow, Katia, no.”

Instead, Katia took a fistful of the next thing she could find, which was Spencer’s hair, and she cried out an identical (if higher pitched) “Ow!”

“You hurt Spencer, not the other way around, Katia. Stop faking.” Y/N scolded playfully.

But Katia repeated Spencer’s outburst again, “Ow!”

Y/N lifted Katia’s little fist from Spencer’s hair, and it immediately clamped down on Spencer’s finger as an alternative to wave about.

Spencer kissed her hand, still so tiny and forgiving against his. He looked at Y/N, blinking fast as he half-heartedly said, “She’s so like you.”

The lock of hair Katia had yanked on curved around Y/N’s touch as he put it back into the disarray of fluff that stood around Spencer’s head, “That’s funny, because I think she’s so like you.”

 ---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Tilting the pram onto its back wheels, Spencer pushed it up the step and into the aquarium tunnel. Katia lay back in her seat while gumming on her blanket corner. Her eyes were ready to take in the sights.

Y/N knelt before her, suffering a few kicks to his knees from Katia’s excitement. Her pram clips were undone. Little Katia was released into her Daddy’s arms then plonked up onto his shoulders. Her starfish-like hands pressed up against the glass. Her mouth became as wide as her eyes as she pointed at the stingray rippling past. She had seen fish before (Carl and Rosalind at home) but never like this.

“Yeah, that’s a ray, Katia,” Y/N rubbed his fingers over her back, his hands still to keep her steady.

Spencer pointed his finger right next to hers, “They use their electro-sensors, not their eyes, to find their meals which consists of shrimps, clams, and -”

Katia shrieked – interrupting his and she smacked her hands against the glass. No one seemed to mind though. Some patrons in the tunnel even chuckled at her behaviour. Like she needed any more encouragement, especially with Y/N grinning up at her and tickling her sides to elicit more laughter from his daughter.

When Spencer’s hand dropped, Katia shouted again. A little confused, he returned it and Katia took his finger in her hand then began dragging the tip across where the ray was.

“She wants it as a pet, what do you say, baby?”

“I thought you said not to get you any fish for your birthday.”

Eventually Katia was returned to the pram. Her head was thrown back to watch the rest of the tunnel go by. Then she hid her face in her blankie once they were out in the last few exhibits. There was a little tug of war to get her to let it go (she was a lot stronger than Y/N gave her credit for) and see the one other exhibit that both parents were invested in.

Taking her hand again, Spencer squatted beside the pram. “Hey look, the men seahorsies have the babies. They’re just like your Daddy.”

“Your favourite Daddy,” Y/N ruffled Spencer’s hair while Spencer pretended to be outraged. Katia caught onto the dramatic expression Spencer was wearing and copied him with a gasp added for good measure.

“What d’you reckon, any of these were babies when we went to visit last time?”

“Well, Y/N, the lifespan of these seahorses is approximately a year. So they could be.” He knew it was unlikely but, for the sake of the smiles on Y/N’s and Katia’s face, Spencer let it be.

[spontaneousmusicalnumber]

This post is a designated rest stop.

Pause for a moment and take stock of yourself. It’s been a stressful, scary time with no sign of the stress ending. Take a breath.

How are you physically?

Have you eaten recently? Have you drunk water? Have you taken your meds? What’s one thing you can do right now to make yourself more comfortable? Take care of your body and don’t worry that you’re resting more than you ‘should’. Mental stress does physical damage.

How are you mentally?

How often are you checking for updates? Are you just refreshing social media over and over? Do you have anyone you can reach out to and talk about your worries? Do you have a space where you can escape to talk about other topics? This is a traumatizing time. Remember to treat yourself gently, and that you’re not alone.

Do you need help?

Trans Lifeline - Masterlist of Crisis Hotlines (US-centric, sorry) - Find a Mutual Aid Network Near You

Do you need a distraction?

5 Years of DIY Crafts

Learn Bookbinding from scratch

Free Plushie and Accessory Patterns

Guided Meditation from the Monterey Bay Aquarium

Chill, calming anime:

Mushishi - Barakamon - Kino’s Journey (2003) - Tamako Market - Flying Witch - Somali and the Forest Spirit - Girls’ Last Tour - Yuru Camp - Sound of the Sky

Fun, silly anime:

Nichijou - Monthly Girl’s Nozaki-kun - My Love Story!! - Saint Young Men - Sweetness and Lightning - Hinamatsuri - Princess Jellyfish - Kaguya-Sama: Love is War

Just want a good cathartic cry?

Children who Chase Lost Voices - A Silent Voice - Orange - Wolf Children - A Place Further Than The Universe

(All these anime are, with only minor or occasional exception, free of fanservice, homophobia, and transphobic caricature.)

It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. There’s so much hate and sadness in the world, and it’s easy to feel like you can’t do anything in the face of it. You aren’t abandoning anyone by taking some time for yourself. Reach out to your support system and take the next little while a step at a time if you have to.

[agerefandom]

Cold Palms, Warm Words

Fandom: Twilight

Characters: Regressor!Reader (she/her pronouns), cg!Alice Cullen, Jasper Cullen

Words: 2,000

Summary: A stressful day at school finds you huddled in the bathroom, trying to feel bigger than you are. Help comes unexpectedly from Alice, one of your classmates, who seems to know exactly what you need.

Warnings: Involuntary regression in a school setting, anxiety, tears, and ~secret vampires~ (also, a reader who uses she/her pronouns!)

Written for @babymaxsworld​! (I love Alice and had a lot of fun with this prompt, thank you so much!)

You’re usually so good about not regressing at school. Some days, you bring your smallest stuffie to school in your backpack, just so you know that there’s a friend nearby, but you always try to stay big in class. Regression is for home, when you can close your door and cuddle up with all of your plushies to watch a cartoon.

But it’s a Friday afternoon, and you’re in the middle of math class, and you just can’t focus. You know that a hug from your stuffie would be so nice right now, but you can’t just bring them out in the middle of class. The thought of that comfort, so close yet so far away, is almost enough to make you tear up. Your throat is starting to hurt, and the numbers on the board are absolutely incomprehensible. Your pen is resting on the page, but it hasn’t moved in at least half an hour.

You can feel that you’re about to start crying, and you don’t want to draw any attention to yourself, but you take a shaky breath and put up your hand.

“Yes?” the teacher asks, pausing his lecture to look at you.

“Can I go to the bathroom?” you ask, clenching your pen between your fingers and willing your voice to be steady.

“Sure.” He walks over to his desk to get the hall-pass, and you stand up to take it on the way out. You try to smile at him as you leave, and he gives you a concerned look. You probably look almost as bad as you feel, but he hands over the hall-pass and you hear him picking up his lecture as you close the door behind you.

Once you’re in the empty hallway, you make a beeline for the bathroom and shut yourself into the stall in the corner. You didn’t see anyone else in here, but you still try to keep quiet as you let yourself begin to cry. You’re too small to be here, with all of these big kids, and you can’t do all this stupid complicated math! You want to be home with all of your stuffies and your softest blankets, and you couldn’t even take your backpack to the bathroom to get a hug from a single stuffie.

It’s not fair!

You curl up on the toilet seat as you start to cry harder, tears dripping down your face as you try to wipe them away. You want your sippy cup and your comfiest PJs and you want to take a nap after you finish crying. The last place you want to be is school, and the last thing you want to be is a big kid.

Through your tears, you hear the door to the bathroom swing open. Immidiately, you put both hands over your mouth, stifling the sobs that have started hiccupping in your chest. You try to stay still as footsteps come down the stalls towards you, but you can hear yourself sniffling quietly in the silence.

Then the person in the aisle calls your name softly, and you realize that you recognize the voice. It’s Alice, from your math class. She’s one of the Cullens, a family in your town that’s well known for being both wealthy and made up of extremely good-looking people. You’ve shared a few classes with Alice; she’s always drawing in the back of the class, but manages to answer the teacher correctly whenever they call on her. You’ve snuck a peek at some of her doodles: they’re as impressive as everything else that she does.

You’re really not sure why she’s in the bathroom calling for you.

She stops outside your stall door and calls your name again gently.

“Are you in there? It’s alright, I just brought your backpack. I thought you might want it.” Sure enough, she slides it under the door.

You reach for it, hug it to your chest. You don’t know if you can talk right now, but you do your best.

“Thank you. Y’didn’t need to.” Your voice is high and shaky, and Alice’s is smooth and calming.

“It’s no problem. I told the teacher that you hadn’t been feeling well, so he’s not expecting you back in class.”

This kindness has a wave of relief washing over you, and you hear yourself starting to cry in earnest again.

“Oh, no, honey. Don’t cry.” Alice sounds distressed on the other side of the door. “Is there anything I can do? Do you want a hug?”

“A hug’d be nice.” You try to say it like a joke, but you’re crying too much to pass it off.

“If you let me in, I promise I’ll give you the best hug ever,” Alice says.

How could you say no to an offer like that? You unlock the door to the bathroom stall.

Alice is standing outside, with her spiky black hair and today’s odd dress, a black patchwork that makes her look like a little doll. She smiles when she sees you, a relieved expression like she was scared you wouldn’t open the door.

“Hi,” you say, suddenly shy and aware that you’re curled up on a toilet with your arms wrapped around your backpack like a lifeline.

“Hi,” Alice replies, still smiling at you. “Do you want that hug now?”

You nod wordlessly and drop your backpack to hold out your arms. She sweeps forward and picks you up with a strength you didn’t expect from her slight form. You wrap your legs around her waist automatically, and then she’s giving you the best hug of your entire life. There’s nothing except for Alice in the whole entire world: her dark hair, her sweet smell, her strong arms holding you close and safe. You melt against her, and she hums happily as you relax.

“There, honey. You’re okay, don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. You don’t need to worry anymore.” The words make you sob into her shoulder, words that are exactly what you needed to hear.

“M’sorry,” you mumble, aware that you’re crying on a girl that you hardly know.

“Shhh, don’t be sorry. I’m here to take care of you.” Alice’s hand brushes through your hair and down your back, firm and soothing. “Don’t worry, honey.”

Your tears start to lighten, and you’re hit all of a sudden with the bone-deep weariness that always comes after crying.  

“Tired.” Your voice sounds distant and hoarse.

“Then sleep,” Alice tells you. “Everything will be fine. You’re safe.”

Her soft voice leaves no room for doubt, and you feel yourself drifting down into sleep as soon as she speaks. The last thing you hear is her voice humming a lullaby you don’t recognize.

--

You wake up slowly to the feeling of someone petting your hair.

“I wasn’t going to leave her,” you hear a voice say. “She needed someone with her, and I saw myself helping.”

“She’s awake now,” another voice replies from further away. “Do you want me to go?”

“It’s alright.” The fingers switch from your hair to run across your cheek, the touch feather-light. “She’ll like you, I can tell.”

You feel cozy and safe and small. There’s a blanket wrapped around you, soft against your cheek, and it keeps you warm even though the fingers of the person holding you are ice cold. You wiggle a little bit as you come to consciousness, humming at the feeling of being held.

“Good morning, little one.” Alice’s voice is familiar and warm. “How are you feeling?”

You manage to make a happy little sound at her, and she laughs.

“You’re so little!” Alice says, but she doesn’t sound mad about it. She tickles the side of your neck and you can’t help but giggle, squirming in your tightly-wrapped blanket. “I knew that sleeping would be good for you.” You can tell from the smile in her voice that she’s proud of herself.

You try to tell Alice that she’s silly, but your words aren’t working right now, and you can only make a little burbling noise at her. She beams down at you, and now that your eyes are open, you can see you’re in the backseat of a car, the top half of your body draped across Alice’s lap and cradled in her arms. You try to sit up to see where you are, but she runs her hands through your hair again and you melt back into her arms.

“Don’t worry,” Alice murmurs. “We’re only a block away from the school, a little off the road. I thought you’d want to be somewhere safe when you woke up.”

Some of the words register, and you smile at Alice contentedly. She’s very nice, and she took care of you all the way here. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so small and safe before. Your brain isn’t working, but that’s okay, because Alice is here to pet your head and that means everything is okay.

“You’re very out of it,” Alice says fondly. “Would you like to meet someone?”

Your eyes go wide. You’re not supposed to meet people when you’re like this, it’s a secret! No one is supposed to know that you can’t think like a big kid sometimes. Alice sees your panic and reacts quickly.

“It’s okay, sweetie, it’s just Jasper. He’s my partner, remember him?” Alice shifts you in her arms easily, lifting you up so that you can see into the front seat. Her hands are strong and steady, but you still start to panic as you see another familiar person in the front seat.

Jasper turns to you and the panic starts to fade, replaced by calm as natural as breathing. He has bright golden eyes, and the light filtering through the clouds is enough to make his long curling hair a mess of shadow and highlights, like an old painter used his smallest brush to pick out the details.

“No worries,” Jasper tells you, and it’s true. Your worry has vanished, as if it was never there. “I just do what Alice tells me,” he adds in a whisper. “And she said to be very nice to you and not to tell anyone else.”

You laugh at him. He sounds silly when he whispers and you like his hair.

“I think that Alice likes you a lot,” Jasper says in that same stage-whisper. “She wouldn’t let go of you.”

“Jasper!” Alice’s arms tighten protectively around you. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I think she wants to adopt you,” Jasper finishes, with a wicked smile at Alice behind you.

“He’s so mean to me,” Alice says, burying her nose in your hair. “I don’t know why I love him.”

You draw an arm free of the blanket and reach out for Jasper, noticing the way his cheeks fold on themselves when he smiles. They look soft, and you want to touch them. However, as soon as you put a hand out, he flinches back from you, retreating into the front seat.

You begin to tear up at the sudden movement. You must have done something wrong, but why did he go away? You reach out for the front of the car with renewed insistence, whining in your throat.

“Oh, honey, no,” Alice says, pulling you back against her softly. “Jasper is shy, that’s all. He likes to talk, but no touch, okay?” She captures your outstretched hand and folds it between her own. Her skin is cool and ungiving, but the touch is gentle.

“Sorry.” Jasper’s voice is hushed, almost too quiet for you to hear.

“It’s okay.” Alice soothes both of you, rubbing your hand between her palms. “You’ll get used to each other.” Her voice turns mischievous, and she bounces you slightly on her lap, making you giggle at the motion. “I can see that you’ll get along very well in the future.”

That makes Jasper laugh as if Alice told a joke, and you can’t help but laugh along because you’re happy. Here in Alice’s arms, you can’t imagine the future being anything but perfect.

[timegirl]

Cats Don't Have Nine Lives - Moceit Appreciation Week 2021

Characters: Patton, Janus

Relationship: Platonic or Romantic

Prompts: Aftermath (day 2), Animal (day 4)

Word Count: 2073

Trigger Warnings: This whole fic surrounds a death of a pet and the mourning of the owner. It is sad. Contains a light description of a declining medical condition of a pet. Please don't read if you're sensitive to these topics. Patton tries to blame himself. Food is mentioned briefly.

Summary: Patton suffers a loss and Janus comforts him.

@moceit-appreciation-week @moceit

This is not like my regular works. It is sad and depressing, and is based on my own life. More details on ao3. Please mind the warnings and the tags, stay safe.

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

“Hey, Jan? I was just at the vet... it’s.... over....”

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry... Are you going home now?”

sniffle “Yeah...”

“I’ll be right there.”

“Okay...”

Janus used the spare key he had to Patton’s apartment. “Patton, darling?” He called and closed the door behind him. He heard soft sobs greeting him from the living room. “Oh, baby...” He hurried to the living room and found his friend curled up on the sofa, clutching a small baby blue blanket to his chest. His face was puffed and red, and tears were streaming down his cheeks non stop.

“Patton, honey...” Janus clicked his tongue and quickly sat beside Patton, opening his arms for the other to snuggle in his embrace. The moment he was sat Patton clung to his torso and sobbed hard and loud, burying his face in Janus' chest and wetting his shirt with tears. Janus frowned, his brows furrowing in concern, and started rubbing slow circles on Patton back.

“I’m so sorry...” He whispered. “Shhhhhh.....” Janus started rocking gently back and forth, trying to sooth Patton’s ache.

They sat like that for a few minutes, holding each other. Janus took the opportunity to look around at the apartment. It was a really saddening look. Everywhere you looked there were cat themed objects. Never mind the cat stickers decorating the walls and the little kitty sculptures on the shelves, everything in this house screamed that there’s a feline resident in there.

A brown cat bed with a monkey plushie sitting in its corner.

Three carton boxes in different sizes were lined up opened against the wall.

A carton board on the floor beneath a blue bench that was much too small for a human. The board was covered in claw marks and teared a bit in the edges.

Toys were scattered everywhere on the floor. Mice, spikey balls, balls with little bells inside. There was one cat wand on the floor near the cat bed, a stick with a brown furry string and several colorful feathers tied to the end.

A blue cat tree was standing next to the sofa, a plaid blanket cushioned the lowest platform.

The armchair was covered in absurd amounts of cat fur, as if to say this was her spot, no one else's.

Janus lifted his gaze upwards. The walls weren't spared either. On two different walls there were blue cushioned shelves designed as stairs, going from the floor to a level above Janus' head as he stood in his full height, and Patton was shorter than him. On one step of the stairs sat a small tiger plushie.

As Patton's sobs slowly quieted down, the silence between the two was disturbed only by a small water fountain in the corner of the room, trickling steadily.

Patton didn’t want to let go of Janus. He felt like someone pulled the rug from under his feet, and Janus' firm hands were his only lifeline. He smelled nice, too, as much as Patton was able to smell with a stuffy nose from all the crying. Like the comfort and nostalgia of opening an old book with yellowing pages, with just a hint of cologne. He was warm, and it felt comforting to be held by him, like a comfort blanket. Patton was no longer crying, just inhaling Janus' scent softly to ground himself. Janus' fingers caressed the back of his head and Patton leaned into the touch.

Eventually Janus broke the silence.

"She's had a good life." He whispered into Patton's hair, and Patton felt the vibrations rumble in his chest.

Patton sighed heavily. "Yeah..." he mumbled. Sniffling once, he pulled himself away and wiped the remaining tears off his cheeks, the ones that weren't coating Janus' shirt. He looked down at the blanket he was holding.

"That's hers, right?" Janus asked.

"Yeah," said Patton, "I used it to get her into the cage, you know how she gets," he chuckled humorlessly. Janus gave him a sad smile. "She was also... wrapped in it when... when the vet... you know..."

"Yeah..." Janus rubbed his hand on Patton's arm comfortingly.

"You know, she's had a kidney failure two years ago, and the vet said that we're only prolonging the inevitable. Eventually it'll happen again and it'll be the end," Patton busied his hand with the hem of the blanket, "but I thought it'll be at least... five years, you know? Not two. Not that it wouldn't have been hard either way, but, still... It's just... so abrupt," he frowned, the tears threatening to overflow again.

"Well," Janus hesitated, "at least now you won't need the antihistamines anymore, right?" he tried for humor, and Patton's lips broke into a genuine smile and he laughed weakly through his nose.

"Right..." His smile slowly turned into a solemn expression and he sighed. "What if..." he bit his lower lip, "what if I could've stopped it?"

"Patton, no. It is not your fault."

"No, I know... The vet said it would've happened anyway... But what if I wasn't perceptive enough? Maybe if I'd noticed something's wrong sooner they could've saved her..." Tears began to accumulate in Patton's eyes.

"Sweetie, listen to me." Janus took both of Patton's hands in his and looked straight into his eyes. "It is not your fault. You were an amazing owner. You loved her so much and gave her everything she could've ever dreamed of."

"But I-"

"Shh shh shh, no buts," Janus used his thumb to gently wipe a stray tear off Patton's cheek, beneath his glasses. "I've known you since before you adopted her. I've seen how you took care of her with everything you have. Spending nights treating her when she was sick, doing everything in your power every day to make her take the medicine you knew she hated but made her feel better, staying awake late to pet her just because she didn't want to go to sleep and you couldn't bare to say no to her. Darling, trust me when I say, she was the luckiest cat in the world to have you as her owner."

Patton started sobbing again, furiously wiping his tears with his fingers, dirtying his wet glasses even more. Janus clicked his tongue. "Come here," he said as he pulled Patton to his embrace once again, placing a kiss on the crown of his head. "It's ok to grieve," he whispered, rocking them back and forth, "but don't beat yourself up about things out of your control." Patton sniffed, nodding weakly. Janus waited a bit before saying, "Let's bring you some water, ok honey?" Patton nodded again and pulled back. "I'll be right back." Janus said and petted Patton's cheek gently. He stood up and walked to the kitchen to get Patton a glass of water.

In the kitchen, Janus noticed a bowl of dry cat food in the corner. He debated getting rid of it and sparing Patton the pain, but decided against it. He'll ask Patton if he needs help with it, but he might want to do it himself to get some closure.

Janus returned to the living room with a glass of water in his hand. Patton looked up at him as he approached and small smile spread on his face. Janus' chest filled with warmth. He'll do anything for this man, he just wants him to be happy.

"Thank you," Patton said and reached his hand to grab the glass.

"You're welcome, honey," Janus replied as he took his place on the sofa.

They were silent for a moment as Patton drank. "You know," he said, lowering the glass to his lap and holding it with both hands. "I keep thinking about how naïve I was when I adopted her."

"Naïve? How so?"

"I thought it was funny, giving a cat a number as a name. You know, Nine, as in nine lives?" Janus looked at Patton, concern apparent on his forehead. Patton was looking down to his glass in his lap. "Of course there were other reasons too. It was September 2009 when I got her. The ninth month of the ninth year of the milenium. It was so fitting! Of course I couldn't give up the opportunity to give her a name that's a play on words!" Janus frowned and rubbed Patton's knee. "But cats don't really have nine lives, do they? Not even a cat named Nine..." He sighed.

Janus looked at him in silence. It was good that Patton was talking. Janus has spent years trying to make Patton to open up to him. He was always hiding behind jokes and a huge smile. He needed a safe platform to be able to unload everything weighing down on his chest. Janus was always happy to provide him that safe space, and the fact that Patton trusted him enough by now to open up to him was a bit overwhelming, in a good way. But it wasn't about Janus right now, it's about Patton and his pain. Janus knew Patton so well by now, that he didn't need to check to know that if he stayed silent, Patton would open up even more and unload more of his negative feelings, and Janus would be there for him when he does.

Surely enough, after a few moments of silence, Patton let out a breathy laugh, devoid of humor. "I keep thinking she's gonna come out from around the corner like everything's normal... You'd think dying is a one time thing. She died, that's it. It happened. Now we're after it. But it's not..." Patton emptied his glass and placed it on the table. "It's still happening. She didn't just die... She's dead. And she keeps being dead, all the time, over and over again. Every time I look to the hallway and expect her to walk out with her tail wiggling high, she's dead again. Every time I think of her... She's dead. Again. She's really... not coming back... She's staying dead." Patton played with the sleeve of the hoodie that was always tied around his shoulders. "Look at me," he chuckled, "I'm even wearing a cat hoodie. I'm pathetic..." He sighed.

"Patton honey," Janus wrapped his arms over Patton's shoulders and pulled him to rest against his chest, maneuvering himself to a more comfortable position, leaning back on the sofa. "You're not pathetic. Ok?" He stroked Patton's hair with his hand. "Those things take time. I'm not going to lie to you and tell you it'll all be gone one day and you won't feel anything. That's never going to happen." Patton pouted in response. "But it won't be as painful. It won't be an open wound anymore. It will scar." Patton's eyes widened and he looked up to Janus, letting his eyes rest on the scar tissue on the man's left cheek. "A scar is... a reminder of what once was. It's unpleasant to look at, and it's scruffy to touch, and remembering what left the scar is... painful, to say the least." Patton's brows furrowed in a frown. Janus smiled warmly at him. "But it doesn't hurt by itself anymore. You can live your life and not even remember it's there most of the time. At first it hurts and itches and every move you make has to be calculated because the wound is bleeding and everything hurts. But with a scar you don't have to do that anymore. You're going to be ok." Patton sighed and rested his cheek on Janus' chest. "And you know, I thought about what you said." Patton raised his eyebrows and hummed in question. "You weren't naïve. You were being funny, and witty, and wonderful, like you always are." Patton's cheeks warmed in a blush. "I know it might take a while, but I can already see you in a few months with your two new kitties, Seven and Five." Patton giggled and Janus smiled, kissing his hair.

It wasn't perfect. In fact, it was extremely painful, and the grieving process has just begun. But maybe Janus was right. It had a nice ring to it, Seven and Five. Nine's little siblings. Of course, she'll never know them, but it's nice imagining how his first cat's name becomes a legacy in all of his future cats. Patton sighed. It's not going to be easy. But with Janus by his side, maybe, just maybe, he can do it. He will be ok.

[optimistic-smiler]

Benrey spends most of their time at home. They aren't human so they technically can't a job and they really don't want on either. Household chores keep them busy when they aren't gaming all day ( Gordan always gives them a list of things to do before he leaves for work in the morning).

You'd think they get lonely after awhile. Being stuck inside a house all alone. But they have someone to keep them company till Gordan comes home.

Joshua was a big help around the house. Not just with chores but also helping them with boredom with his funny little games. Gordan often came home to an ' Epic' Battle insueing in the middle of his living room. Joshua dressed in his cowboy outfit and Benrey twice their normal size fangs bared and claws out both having the time of their lives but little to no chores done.

Sometimes there would be calmer days. Benrey would buckle down and get everything done before taking Joshie to the park on a nice day. Or the two would play a game on the PlayStation or Wii lounging on the couch till Gordan got home.

Benrey enjoyed the kids company and Joshua enjoyed theirs. Both had formed a bond quickly and Benrey would do anything for the kid.

" it...uhh my Epic parental instincts bro. Top notch parent to your cringe nea nea baby, bet you're super jealous. Gordon Jealousman"

" I'm really not..." Gordan was a little bit but he glad they got along.

Good thing tol because Benrey really did need those "epic parental instincts" today anyway.

" Papa..." Benrey pauses their laundry folding for a moment. Joshua stares at them from the doorway, horse plushie held close in his tiny hands. They smile softly at the five year old before kneeling down.

" Sup baby gamer. You're suppose to be in bed. Recover some of that hp bro." They opened up their arms and Joshie didn't hesitate running to them. Benrey holds him close before picking him up. Poor kid got some sort of bug in his system. Gordan said something about the Flu but Benrey wasn't really paying attention to focused on the kids labored breath and sickly pale skin.

Both of them had stayed up all night waiting for the fever to break. Humans were so fragile letting something like a small bug effect their bodies in such a way. It....scared Benrey...having to watch as the kid cried about not feeling good and nothing they did helped him.

They were glad to see Joshua up and walking around but Gordan said it was best if he stayed in bed. Benrey hummed as they swayed back and forth rubbing comforting circles on his back. The kid clung to them like a lifeline, he was shivering despite feeling unnaturally warm, " Come on Baby gamer. Sleepy time train is leaving the station. Next stop recovery town, population Joshie." They starting making their way to his room.

" Nooo..." Joshua held onto them tighter his voice weak and breaking, " I wanna stay with Papa...please?" Oh....how could anyone say no to that.

Fuck it, laundry can wait. Benrey could use a little nap themselves anyway, " You wanna hang out with a top notch uuuh gamer like me? Hmmm How about papa takes the train to recovery town with you? Recovery Speed Run! No Hacks or Cheats." They took Joshua's giggles as a yes. Wow the kid was feeling better already, they were a natural at making people feel better.

Hopefully Gordan wouldn't be to upset about the chores not getting done. This was way more important then vacuuming anyway. Keeping the kid close means they could keep away anymore ' bugs' from infecting him.

They grab a blanket from their room before going to Joshie's, gently laying him down on the bed. The bed was way to small for both of them to fit so Benrey sat down right beside him draping the blanket over them both. They reach over and held Joshie's hand, leaning back against the wall

" Can you make the pretty music papa?" Tiny fingers squeezed around theirs. Benrey smiled and blew out soft sweet voice into the rair.

Orange to Maroon, Get Well Soon.

Joshua was out like a light soon after. They watched as the sweet voice bubbles slowly vanished leaving a calming feeling in the room. They scooted closer to the bed keeping their hand around their son's before letting their eye slip shut.

Gordan found them like this a few hours later ( work thankfully letting him leave early that day). Sound asleep, hand in hand. He carefully made his way over to the pair slipping a hand onto Joshie's forehead. The fever had finally gone down and he didn't look so pale now. He let out a sigh of relief before smiling.

He turned to Benrey placing a small kiss on their forehead before standing up. He could finish the rest of the chores for the day.

[harvestleaves]

Plushie

Prompt:(Out of breath series) the team somehow sees Tiger Kennedy (maybe Owen brings it after TK was shot?) and someone's like aww who's that and TK's like oh that's Tiger Kennedy (with no context). The team is like okay??? But is confused at the name because they don't know TK's full name and were really asking for the story behind the tiger. Owen's laughing because he's the only one that gets the joke. Basically name reveal + team fluff.

A/N: TK is taking a nap and drops his stuffed animal, Tiger Kennedy.  This is the third and final chapter to the fic Take a Breath, but by no means is it the last work in the Out of Breath series. 

Rating: T, for brief swearing

Word Count: 1,136

Carlos smiled in amusement as he watched TK sleep from the barracks doorway. The smaller man was curled up on his side with his mouth open, snoring softly from how congested he was. The next thing Carlos noticed was that the stuffed tiger he’d bought for TK after his last attack was on the floor next to the side of the bed. Figuring that TK had dropped it turning over, Carlos moved to step into the room and pick it up when TK started to stir.

Lifting his head from his pillow, TK rubbed at his eyes briefly before a panicked look appeared on his face when he realized the tiger was no longer in his arms.  Looking around frantically, TK spotted the stuffed animal on the floor before reaching down with a whimper and pouting when he saw it was just out of his reach.

Carlos melted at the pitiful sound coming from TK before he fully stepped into the room and reached down to pick up the tiger before handing it to TK and sliding in onto the other side of TK.

Buttercup looked up sleepily from his spot at the foot of the bed at the movement from Carlos and let out a small whimper before he turned to settle his chin on Carlos’ shins.

“Thank you.  Buttercup really likes you.  I think you’ve almost passed me as his favorite person,” TK teased with smile as he rolled over, pressing a kiss to Carlos’ lips, the stuffed animal smushed between the two of them.

“Awww, well I really like him too.  He keeps you safe when I’m not here,” Carlos whispered softly as he pressed a soft kiss to TK’s forehead.

“Anyways, I was sent up here to grab you for dinner.  Judd said you had a flare up after that last call and had to take a treatment.  You feeling better?”

Carlos gently caressed TK’s cheek after speaking, his brow crinkling in concern at TK’s pale face, the bags under his eyes prominent as he looked up at his boyfriend.

“Yeah, I’m feeling much better now that I can take a deep breath, but dad told me that I now have to stay at the firehouse for the next call, he doesn’t want me to have another attack,” TK explained with a pout as he hugged Tiger Kennedy close to his chest.

“Sorry babe, but you know I’m going to agree with your dad on this one.  You need to take a step back and focus on your health.”

TK let out a heavy sigh before he nodded and looked up at Carlos.  “I know, but you know I don’t like to be a bother.

“You’re not a bother.  But you are working yourself into the ground, and your doctor did tell you that the more stressed you are, the more difficult it will be to get this under control.”

“I understand that, but you know I’m just going to beat myself up over it if something happened to someone on a call because I wasn’t there to help them,” TK practically whispered as he blinked back a few tears that welled up in his eyes, ducking his face against Carlos’s shoulder to wipe his tears on the shoulder of his boyfriend’s uniform.

“Baby, you and I both know that whatever happens on a call has nothing to do with whether or not you are there to help.  You need to let other people be the caretaker every once in a while.  Judd watches over you because he cares about you, and Marjan keeps an eye on Mateo to keep him out of trouble.  They’re all capable of watching out for each other.  Now you just need to let them take care of you,” Carlos whispered softly against TK’s hair as he held the smaller man close to his chest, rubbing over his back gently.

“Hey!  Dinner’s ready, you two aren’t fucking in here, right?” Judd called out from the doorway, a hand covering his eyes teasingly.

“No Judd, we’re not fucking.  We have my comfy bed for that.  We’ll be right down,” Carlos sighed before he helped TK up, wrapping a blanket around the smaller male’s shoulders to lead him downstairs behind Judd, not realizing that TK was still clutching Tiger Kennedy close to his chest.

Marjan looked up from the table when she heard the trio making their way down the stairs and a soft awww left her lips before she smacked both Mateo and Paul on the arms and pointed excitedly over to where TK was walking down the stairs.

Paul and Mateo’s faces softened as well at TK’s appearance, oversized AFD hoodie, rumpled hair, the blanket as a cape, and the cherry on top, the stuffed tiger that TK was hugging to his chest like a lifeline.

“Who’s your little friend, TK?” Paul asked, a teasing smile on his lips at the nod to the stuffed animal.

“Huh?  Oh my gosh!  None of you were supposed to see this,” TK’s eyes widened as he immediately moved to hide the stuffed animal behind his back, letting out a small whine when Judd was too quick and grabbed it to examine it.

“You sleep with a stuffed animal?  What’s it’s name?” Judd asked as his face softened, noting how new the tiger looked, so it clearly wasn’t a childhood toy.

“Carlos got it for me when he had to take me to the ER after that call two weeks ago.  And his name is Tiger Kennedy.  Can I have him back please?” TK whimpered softly as he reached his arms out for the toy.

“Tiger Kennedy?  Why’d you pick that name?” Mateo piped up, tilting his head to the side in confusion as he looked between TK and Carlos.

“Wait, Tiger Kennedy!  TK!  Oh my gosh!  It’s a hint to his name!!  What’s your first name if your middle name is Kennedy?” Marjan asked, excitement in her eyes at finally getting to find out what TK stood for.

“His first name is Tyler.”

“DAD!!  You know I hate that name,” TK groaned with a glare at his dad, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why babe?  I like Tyler,” Carlos whispered from next to him as he pressed a kiss to TK’s temple.

“You know his full name?!  Even his ex Alex didn’t get that information.  TK wouldn’t tell him,” Owen blinked in surprise as he watched the two interact.

“He found out when I got into that bar fight.  Can we please just drop it and eat?  Please?” TK asked hopefully with a pout to his dad.

“Barfight?!  Fine, but we’ll talk about that later kiddo,” Owen sighed as he sat down, watching Carlos pull out a chair for TK and knowing that his son would be taken care of.

[sdottkrames]

It Must Be Nice (to have Mrs. Potts on your side)

@comfortember Prompt 3: Nightmare

Summary: Peter is staying at the Starks. While Tony goes to the store one night, he has a nightmare. Luckily, Pepper is there to hold him when Tony isn’t.

Notes:  While Iron Dad definitely has, like, half of my heart, I adore the entire Iron Fam. I am a firm believer that Pepper and Peter love each other like mother/son, and I had a blast writing a little of their sweet relationship.

Read on AO3: here

Peter grabbed his deodorant and shoved it into a small duffel bag with his clothes, a nervous excitement filling his stomach. May was called into work all weekend, and Tony had offered to let Peter stay with them so he wouldn’t be alone. Tony hadn’t said anything, but Peter was pretty sure he and May had talked about the nightmares Peter had been having lately, and Tony didn’t want him to be alone at night.

It was rather sweet, even if a little embarrassing to feel like he was being babysat, and Peter wasn’t going to turn down a chance to hang out with the Starks. He loved Morgan and Pepper, and had especially missed lab days with Tony.

“Don’t forget your toothbrush,” May called from down the hall, breaking into Peter’s thoughts.

Peter rolled his eyes but checked to make sure he had actually put it into the bag. Sure enough, he found it sticking out the side. “I got it, May.”

May appeared in the doorway. “Just making sure, honey. You excited?”

Peter laughed. “It’s just a weekend at the Starks. It’s not like I haven��t been there before.”

May gave him a look.

“Yeah, okay. I’m always excited to hang out with Tony, Pepper, and Morgan.”

Peter’s phone rang, Happy’s face lighting up the screen.

“He’s here. I love you May!” Peter grabbed his bag, kissed May’s cheek, and answered the call as he headed out the door. “Hey, Happy. I’m on my way down. See you in a minute!” He chirpped into his phone.

“Okay. See you soon.” Never one for many words, Happy hung up, and Peter flew to the elevator, anxious to get to the lake house.

***

“Underoos!” Tony called as he swept out the front door, his arms open.

Peter willingly ran into them, relishing in his mentor’s warmth and closeness. He never ceased to be amazed that hugs had become an actual thing, and that Tony’s good hand carding through his curls felt like the most natural thing in the world. Despite the warmth of the hug and Peter’s thick sweater, the November air was chilly, and he shivered.

“Alright, let’s go inside. I forget you can’t thermoregulate. How’s the heater in your suit working, by the way? You aren’t getting cold on patrols, are you?”

They headed inside, and Peter melted as soon as he stepped through the door. The warmth of the house, combined with the comforting colors of fall decorations and the scent of a candle Pepper had lit, seeped through the cold to warm his entire soul. It was a magical feeling. Peter smiled and took a deep breath before turning to his mentor.

“No, Tony. It works great. Karen would alert you if it didn’t, right?”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “See, I would normally say yes, but after the stunt you pulled in DC, I don’t really know anymore.”

“Well, then,” Peter scoffed, “you’ll just have to trust me when I say I haven’t, and I won’t, mess with her again.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem. I don’t trust you with that.”

Peter pulled out his most potent puppy-dog eyes.

“Oh, now that’s not fair.” Tony glared as Peter grinned, entirely unrepentant.

“Boys, play nice!” Pepper called from the kitchen, and Peter went over to give her a hug. “Are you hungry, sweetheart? Dinner will be ready in about 15 minutes.”

Tony kissed Pepper’s cheek as he passed to the fridge to grab a water bottle. “Want me to go get her majesty? Have her wash up?”

“No, I’ll go get Morgan. Where’s she at? I was surprised I wasn’t immediately accosted when I walked in,” Peter said, his smile too indulgent and full of love for the comment to hold any real heat.

Pepper nodded her head to the back door. “In her tent, playing with her Spider-Man action figures, actually.”

Peter blushed, trying to hide it as he headed out the back door to get his little sister. He stopped right outside her tent. “Morgan! Guess who!” he called.

“Petey!” Morgan yelled as she flew out of the tent and into Peter’s open arms.

“Hey Momo!” he said, kissing her head. “It’s time for dinner. Your mom wants you to wash up.”

“What’s for dinner?” Morgan asked cautiously, preemptively wrinkling her nose as if she already didn’t like the answer.

“I don’t know, but it looked like spaghetti.”

Deeming the answer to her satisfaction, Morgan allowed Peter to take her inside.

“I hear you have some Spider-Man action figures, Mo,” he said as he moved the stool so she could reach the sink with practiced motions.

“Yeah! I have 5! Daddy got me one for every year you were gone. He’d always tell me stories about you. I made him use my action figures to make it more fun.”

Peter firmly kept the smile on his face, though the mention of his 5-year absence made his stomach squirm annoyingly.

He hated feeling so fragile. Nobody else really talked about it, the feeling of turning into dust, the strange sensation of dread and pain and just….slipping away. It felt so unfair that the very DNA that gave him the ability to help others and to heal himself was the very thing that made coming back so much harder for Peter. Everybody else had just painlessly faded away, but Peter had felt everything.

Peter shook his head, turning his attention back to his sister. He turned off the water and handed her a towel, laughing as water droplets scattered on the wall from her erratic hand drying. The mundane detail made Peter smile, and he took a deep breath to dispel the lingering gloominess.

Dinner was nice. Conversation flowed easily between them all, and the knot of anxiety in Peter’s chest unraveled a little. He felt even better after tinkering in the lab with Tony. With AC/DC softly in the background, they spent hours in the basement lab, working on Peter’s web shooters and Tony’s prosthetic arm, and just generally enjoying each other’s company until Pepper came and made them go to sleep. By the end of the night, Peter felt better than he had in months.

He didn’t have any nightmares that night.

***

The next day was a beautiful, fall day. It passed in a blur of helping Pepper around the house, playing outside with Morgan, and spending hours in the lab with Tony again.

As he helped her, Pepper told him stories of Morgan as a baby, which were adorable, and stories of Tony as a new dad, which were somehow even more adorable. He hadn’t felt like he ever found his place with Pepper, but they talked as easily that day as they had the night before and some of his worries about where he stood with her melted a little.

It had been a similar experience with Tony. While Morgan fit seamlessly into his life, it had taken a lot longer before Peter and Tony had developed their relationship. Months of occasional phone calls had escalated to daily texts which led to lab nights that ended in movies and snuggles. Without even realizing it, they had forged a relationship that was akin to the one Peter had with his dad and Ben. It didn’t replace those relationships; the place in Peter’s heart simply expanded to make space for Tony. He hoped it would eventually be the same with Pepper..

***

“Alright kiddo,” Tony said the next night. “Monopoly? Uno? One of those new fangled games...uh...Cover Your Assets?”

“Ooooh. What’s Cover Your Assets?” Peter asked, walking over from the table, where he was stuffing his face with chips and salsa.

Morgan was asleep, and the adults were settling in for a game night. Popcorn, ice cream, and chips and dip had been procured in copious amounts.

“It's, uh, well you try and steal each other’s cards and get the most ‘money’. Let’s play it. It’s fun, and it’ll make more sense after you actually play a few rounds.”

“Yeah, I like that one. Let’s play it!” Pepper called, bringing a bowl of popcorn to the table. The third one. She’d insisted that she knew her boys and that she wanted to actually eat some popcorn, so they would each get their own bowl.

"Yeah, only because you beat me every game," Tony grumbled, earning him a slap from Pepper. He briefly explained the rules again and then dealt everyone in, and soon they were all engrossed in a very intense game. Peter proved to be a match for even Pepper, but he was pretty sure it was beginners luck.

“Tony, Peter literally has all the silvers in that stack, yet you steal from me! ” Pepper yelled. She turned out to be surprisingly competitive, and it amused Peter to no end.

“Pep, he probably has another silver to block it, I’m just biding my time!”

Peter hid a giggle behind his cards, then smugly stole Pepper’s pile from Tony, covering his stack with all the silvers.

“Son of a-“

Tony was cut off by a small voice. “Daddy?”

Morgan stood in the kitchen entryway with tears in her eyes, holding her iron man plushie in one hand, her Spider-Man blanket in another. She’d never looked younger.

“Yes, baby. What‘s wrong?”

“I had a bad dream,” she sniffled. “You...you died again.”

Peter’s heart dropped and the world fell away, sucked into a tiny pinpoint by his thundering heartbeat and ragged breaths. He desperately tried to bring the world back into focus. He was barely aware of Tony standing to scoop Morgan up into his arms, and forced himself to think of that and not his raging thoughts. Mercifully, it worked.

“Well, don’t you worry about that,” Tony was saying, and Peter clung onto his words like a lifeline and was finally able to suck in a breath of precious air. “Let’s go snuggle until you feel better, and I’ll have a little chat with your dreams, okay? Pete was going to win anyway.”

Morgan giggled as she wiped her eyes, laying her head down on her dad’s shoulder. Peter gasped in another breath, earning him a look from Pepper, but Peter schooled his expression enough to look normal.

“Sorry about that,” she said and squeezed his hand.

Peter managed a smile, steadying his breaths and willing the last vestiges of his panic to go away. “It’s really okay. I’m glad he’s able to help her.”

Soon Tony joined them once again. “She’s back asleep. A few snuggles from dad, and she was fine,” he said, preening just a little.

They continue their game, but Peter found his mind pulled away again, wrenched into a world far, far away where his body was torn apart while desperately trying to hold it together. That, or the horrible moment where he heard Tony’s heart stop on that battlefield.

“Kid, you okay?” Tony’s voice once again broke through the static in his brain, and he looked up to see both Starks staring at him with concerned expressions.

“Yeah. Just tired, I think,” Peter lied; mistake number one. “I think I’ll head to bed after this game.” Mistake number two.

Peter ended up winning, creaming the others and gloating about it like a 5-year-old, and then bid them goodnight. He knew they didn’t believe that he was really okay, but they didn’t press for answers and Peter didn’t give them. Instead, he dragged himself up the stairs to his room and got ready for bed.

He hesitated for a second before closing the door firmly behind him. And that was mistake number three.

***

“Do you think Peter’s okay?” Tony asked, bringing the last of the dishes over to the sink where Pepper was washing them.

She gave him a look full of fond exasperation, one he had become too familiar with, and handed him a washcloth to wipe the table. “You worry too much. Peter will be alright. If he wanted to talk about it, he would. He’ll come to you, and you will be there just like you always are.”

“You’re right as always, Pep.” Tony sighed, trying to shake the worry as he methodically swiped up and down the table, brushing the crumbs into his hand.

“Why don’t you go for a drive, Tony. You’ll feel better,” Pepper suggested. “We’re out of milk and eggs anyway. Peter can drink a whole gallon by himself.”

“Hmmmm. That’s a good idea. I’ll head to the store. Let me know if we need anything else, or if Peter wakes up. He’s been having nightmares, too.”

“We’ll be fine. Go. Clear your head, get some eggs and milk, come back, and let’s go to bed.”

“Fine, I’m going, I’m going.”

Tony rinsed the cloth, then slipped on his shoes and out the back door. Pepper heard the rumble of his favorite car a few seconds later as she put away the last plate. With a quiet moment to herself, she sank into the couch with the book she had been trying to finish for months. She didn’t get far, though.

“Mrs. Potts-Stark,” Friday chirped from the ceiling not even a second after she’d finally sat down, eliciting a loud groan.

“Yes, Friday?”

“Mr. Parker seems to be in distress. I believe he is having a nightmare.”

Pepper was instantly up off the couch, flying to Peter’s room without a second thought. She quietly opened the door, letting the soft light from the hallway illuminate the room. In the dim light, she saw Peter thrashing on the bed, his legs tangling with the sheets, and he was whimpering loud enough for her to hear. It broke her heart.

“Peter,” she called, walking over and kneeling next to the bed. “Peter. Wake up, sweetie. You aren’t alone, I promise. You’re safe, Tony is safe. C’mon. Wake up.” She kept whispering to him until he opened his eyes with a sob. “Oh, Peter,” she said, and before she could register what was happening, she had an armful of teenager. Peter clung to her, sobbing. She could feel the tears through her shirt, and she quietly sniffled back some of her own. The pure kid in her arms deserved so much more than the nightmares and heartache he’d been given.

“S-sorry,” he hiccuped, pulling back once his sobs slowed into sniffles.

Pepper took his warm, tear-stained face in her hands, gently wiping the wetness from his eyes. “Peter, don’t you dare apologize. It’s not your fault, honey. Tony always said that you are the best of us, and he’s right. You are so so good, so brave, and you are not weak.”

Peter sniffled and nodded hesitantly, but the lies he believed were still clearly written in his eyes.

Peter’s emotions, heightened from months of nightmares, brought earlier doubts about his place with Pepper to the surface and he couldn’t keep the doubt out of his words.

“But I’m not a little kid, ya know. I’m not even your kid, and, and I hate that you have to take care of me, that I’m so weak, that I-”

“Peter,” Pepper said firmly. She hadn’t realized he didn’t know, but then, she’d never told him. She paused to make sure he was really listening, holding eye contact. “You’re like a son to me, too. I love you so much, sweetheart.” Peter startled a little, taking in a shaking breath. She could see was still holding onto some doubt, so she whispered it again, pressing the words to his curls with a kiss. “I love you, okay?”

He nodded once before falling back into her arms. “I love you too,” he whispered against her shoulder.

When Tony came back from the store a little while later, Peter was sleeping peacefully, curled up against Pepper’s side. He knew immediately what happened, and his heart ached that he hadn’t been there, but that was overshadowed by the gratitude he felt for his incredible wife and the knowledge that Peter would always have a Stark to help him.