#my first ever chatty anon!!!

[ughgoaway]

BFFF I MISSED U SO FUCKING MUCH WTF?/??:)/?;):?:?):?:):)/ me randomly scrolling through ur blog because i genuinely have not opened tumblr in a month and the way i almost spontaneously started crying seeing ur post 😭😭😭

ILOGEYIU TOO WTF???????? i swear life has been INSANITY i have not been able to breathe and have my nonverbal tumblr midnight hours in ages *cries* i miss you and ur stories so so much!! but mainly u tho- not reading ur daily rambles just hasn’t been the same

*biggest hug ever* I PROMISE i will be back reading all the things ive missed- but in the meantime, bff anon is always thinking of u bestie!!!!!!! (also all my tumblr notifs is just u so it always makes me sort of happy to see u active and well :,,,) )

bff anon is in europe about to attend the last 2 satvb shows 😭😭 crazy times 😭😭

so rusty on this app that i didnt even sign off the usual way omg

- BFF ANON MISSES U TOO BESTIE 😭😭😭😭

BFF OHMYGOD I COULD ACTUALLY CRY RIGHT NOW!!! I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!!!

oh it is so nice to hear from you, welcome back from your little break!!! I hope your life insanity is all good things, my love. you deserve it!!

you probably haven't missed much, mental illness has been kicking my ass lately, but there's a few teacher au bits and bobs!!! my daily rambles are plentiful though, as I can never shut tf up... adhd tax I'm afraid.

ah the fact that anyone has my notifications on is INSANE. I'M SO SORRY FOR NEVER BEING QUIET LMAOOOO

and OHMYGOD I AM SO JEALOUS. you deserve it so much though, have the best fucking time EVER. and try not to have a complete mental breakdown in Amsterdam... (this is me projecting bc I will be having one at home)

I LOVE YOU!!! LET ME KNOW HOW YOUR SHOWS GO!!!

[woundedheartwithin]

Something y’all need to know about me is, if I message you or tag you or send you an ask or comment or address you in the tags, I am NOT expecting an answer! Not ever, and I mean that. I will not get upset if you never reply to it, and this is for two reasons:

1. I know intimately how stressful and scary and exhausting notifications can be, especially when you’re not feeling so great mentally/physically/emotionally, and I will automatically assume this is the case if I don’t get a reply, even if I see you actively posting on my dash

2. I have already forgotten that I sent you something

[schoenpepper]

Despite Everything (It's Still You)

Intro: When he looks at you, he sees everything he could have been.

Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, not proofread, kinda angsty, more platonic im pretty sure cus its not specified if ur lovers, might be ooc idk and idc, everytime i write idia i feel 10 years older because i cringe at my own internet slang

A/N: Done! Last request is finished, hope you like it worm anon. On my end, this is super rushed and it's not like, my fave ever so ehhhh.

Masterlist

Riddle thought he’d found a comrade in you. Out of everyone in Twisted Wonderland, he’d thought you would be the one to understand him.

He sees it in your posture, always straight and never slouching. You’re good with academics, a diligent student. Like Riddle, you’d gone through life with the iron fist of a well-meaning parent, so surely, you understand him, right? You agree with him. You believe that rules are important to be upheld lest society fall into chaos. It’s such a refreshing feeling to find a person who, like him, thinks that structure and stability are core values of a proper community.

But you don’t. You don’t understand. No one does. His consciousness is flickering between ink and reality. He’s slipping into the grasp of the phantom and he feels himself slowly being consumed. He’s being devoured. Right before the overblot, even you had stood against him. Why? Riddle wasn’t wrong, he was never wrong—the rules aren’t wrong. Because if they are, then what did he lose his entire childhood for? So you must be the one at fault. This is your mistake. You just don’t understand. You tell him that the rules and the competence and the structure matter less than people. You try to convince him that there’s a better way of living. Is there?

Riddle doesn’t know why. He’d thought you were a comrade because he saw his own experiences in yours, but he’d never been so wrong. While he was still caught up in the chains of his mother’s words, you’d already broken free from the cage. You help him to reclaim the shards of childish wonder he’d never been allowed to have. You help him learn how to breathe, how to relax. Little by little, you bring him onto your path.

He doesn’t understand you anymore.

Leona doesn’t have any opinions about you. You never really talked to him at first, and he can respect that; you don’t go out of your way for bothersome, meaningless things.

Every time he sees you, you’re sleeping or slacking off. Whatever, it’s not like he can judge you for it. You also have a real competitive streak for spelldrive, and your wit’s not half bad, especially when compared to the muscle heads in his dorm. Clever and snarky, talented and strong. He can respect you. Maybe just barely, and he’ll never admit it, but he sees a part of himself in you. So, a sort-of equal. He’s still better than you though.

The taste of sand lingers on his tongue as it swirls in the air through the storm. There’s a part of himself he can no longer control. It makes him wrap his fingers around Ruggie’s throat and Leona… He doesn’t want this. But he can’t stop. He can still recognize you on the edge of his vision. Weren’t you just like him? At birth, everything good was handed right over to your older sibling, leaving nothing but scraps for you. You found it unfair too, didn’t you? So why are you standing against him? This is his chance to be someone worth more than his birthright. Why…are you not agreeing with him?

Leona tried to stay away from you. But call it his instinct or whatever; he can’t seem to avoid you at all. The second prince of Sunset Savanna is awestruck by your words. You tell him that birth doesn’t determine everything. You tell him that you’d learned from your own past. That you can still make something of yourself without that which was given. You sure are chatty now, but who is he to stop you?

You’re not his equal. You’d long since left him in the dust.

Azul sees you as an opportunity. He likes you, really, because you know how to do business and you find a way to compromise that doesn’t step on either person’s lines.

It’s not difficult for him to find out about your past, and to be honest, he’s greatly delighted to find out about all that you have in common. Did you feel the way he did when he was isolated and bullied? Did you feel his pain? You were an outcast too, weren’t you? But wow, look at you (and him) now! It’s rare he sees someone as diligent as himself, as cunning and as smart. Resourceful and oh so benevolent, you’d fit right into Octavinelle!

He’d steered himself long ago; he would never be weak again. He had long, long since forgotten humiliation and defeat. But he’s here again. This time, defeat was brought by your hands. Azul had thought you were allies. Business partners, at least. Why betray him like this? Don’t you get it? He’s powerful now! Why try to stop him? Why did you succeed? He’s left in the aftermath of heartache and debris. He doesn’t know why he did the things he did, but he’s sure that he was so close to being all-powerful. Perfect. A being so beautiful and flawless and strong… You took that chance away from him.

Azul wants you out of his life—your presence now is only a reminder of everything he could have been, and everything he failed to be. Unlike him, you’ve already moved on. You’ve learned to forgive your tormentors, and most importantly, you’ve learned to forgive yourself. You tell him that it was never his fault, but that revenge was never meant to be the answer.

He finds that he had nothing in common with you, after all.

Jamil is perceptive. Next to the one who’s attracting the attention of the whole room with a bright smile and sunny disposition, he finds a kindred spirit in you.

You seem responsible enough, and like a mirror, he sees you taking care of that person the way he does with Kalim. It’s easy to pierce through your act because he knows how to do it too. Seemingly not too smart, not too dumb, not too strong, not too weak. You’re good at pretending to be average. Like Jamil, you’ve lived a life of servitude. Are you tired of forced humility? Of feeling like your life isn’t worth anything when compared to the one you serve?

He’s tired too. He’s so, so tired. Why was freedom unreachable to Jamil right from the moment he was conceived? Was he unworthy of a life unbound by shackles? You’re looking at him like he’s a stranger. Jamil looks at you like you’re a mirror. A mirror that’s shattered, and damaged, and every piece is covered with ink and regret. You know what he’s been through, so why are you in his way? You should be an accomplice. Do you not yearn to be your own person? The phantom is whispering promises he knows it won’t keep. But nothing is more tempting than just…one day of happiness. Of his own happiness.

Jamil is inevitably drawn to you. You live so brightly; you see your master as a friend. You tell him he doesn’t need to do the same. That the only thing he needs to do is find a way that works for him. And you’re asking about things he hadn’t thought of before. An employment contract? The legal status of slavery in the Scalding Sands? Wait, you’re serving that person out of your own volition in exchange for salary and other related benefits?

In you, he sees a light at the end of the tunnel.

Vil approves of you. Like looking in a mirror almost, he sees beauty and a passionate drive to remain beautiful in every single way.

You’re a person with a consistent goal and a persistent drive to do better and be better; a hard worker with tenacity like that of the Queen herself. You are no potato. You are a diamond that has found a way to shine uniquely, and like him, you are already a master at your chosen profession. And yet, he sees the trophies and the medals are all silver and never gold. It is frustrating, but Vil knows that you as well know what it’s like to always be second best.

He’d worked so hard. He’d tried his very best. Professional music and choreography, styling and costumes. He’d set up a multi-week boot camp for his team members in order to whip them into shape. It’s all swept away by that person. Again. And again. And again and again and again and— No. No more. He will take matters into his own hands. But you stand in front of him with a familiar determination, only this time, you’re determined to stop him. Rook had betrayed him and now, you do too. Is he not worthy of a victory? Not even once? The blot is so, so ugly. But if it means he’ll get to wipe out everything that’s opposed to him, he’ll take that blot and use it to his own advantage. Like the queen who’d disguised herself as an ugly witch in order to take down the princess; everything can be sacrificed for the sake of ultimate beauty. If you’re not with him, you must be against him.

Vil apologizes sincerely for his faults. He knows he was wrong, even if it hurts his pride to admit it. But you accept him so easily, so readily, he can’t believe you’re acting like he’d never even hurt you. You forgive him. You help him accept his losses and continue to strive. Because you’d been in his position before, but you’d grown to be happy and appreciate the wins in life instead.

You are no mirror image of him. You are better.

Idia’s never been this happy before; through his screen is someone who just gets him. You’re good at games, and an introvert too? Score!

It’s not like, ever, that someone who vibes with his genius just comes strolling through his life, so Magicord bears witness to long, late night chats about anything and everything. You’ve got some real fucked up childhood trauma too, big mood tbh. It’s easy to spill his guts out over the internet, because even then, you still don’t really know him. You like the games and animes that he likes, and he’s so glad that for once, there’s a person out there who’s lived through the same villain-arc that he has.

He can’t rebuild the world if so many noobs are trying to stop him. Why? What’s so wrong with wishing for a world that can fit him and Ortho right in? Why is that too much for him to ask for? Why are you, the person he thought was his cool moots, acting up too? Don’t you like Ortho? Bro…no…you’re not actually doing a protagonist monologue rn, are you? Seriously? You think you can defeat him and his phantom through the power of friendship? Lolz, you’re so lame. If the world was a fairytale, he wouldn’t have been born with this dumb curse. If the world was a fairytale, he would never have been trapped in STYX with no way out. If the world was a fairytale, Ortho would still be alive. But it’s not. So he’ll remake it to be the story he’d always dreamt it to be.

Idia thinks you’re 110% cringe, like actually barf-inducing. But you did kinda save him or whatevs, so he can put up with you. Like, begrudgingly yk. You’re just such a weirdo. He really thought you were just like him, but no. You’ve had therapy. That’s like, actually wild. You try to counsel him too, talking about feelings and whatnot, and how to move past grief so that it no longer consumes you from the inside out.

So it turns out you didn’t have a villain arc like Idia did. You’re the main hero.

Malleus finds you absolutely delightful. To see another who can speak to him without fear or nervousness is a marvelous thing that he cherishes.

You are no fae or long-lived species, but he finds you fascinating. You are intelligent and wise beyond your years. You are powerful in your own right. You are familiar, in every sense of the word. Even your experiences seem to be shared. You’d been orphaned too, and experienced loss and grieved. You’d mourned for far too many loved ones who have left before you. Do you see the present as he does? Do you embrace the past as he does?

The world is a sad, sad place. He would like to change it. Into one with happy ever afters, into one where there is no hunger and no poverty. There will be no suffering. In his hands, he will mold the world into one that is kinder to its people. There will be no death and separation. He’s had far too many of those, enough to last his long lifetime. He’s not wrong. So why…why do you stand against him, weapon pointed towards him? The only thing he wishes for is permanence. Do you not see the vision? There is so much sadness in the world, why do you choose to wake from your beautiful slumber and face it head on? No matter. He will help you, even if you deny him.

Malleus is more than happy to take your hand when it is outstretched towards himself. You teach him so many things he hadn’t realized before, like how to cherish the present and treasure each memory more than attempting to find a solution to make them everlasting. He had believed wholly that he was right; that the answer to death was a long period of dreams in which everyone lives in a happy ending. He had believed you to be similar to himself—he is wrong about many, many things.

You’ve always looked to a brighter future than he could even imagine.

[im-sleepdeprived]

Can you write something about co-workers to friends to lovers?

fix you up

pairing: peter parker x reader

a/n: i won’t lie to y’all idk how i feel abt this one. its cute dgmw but i hope you guys like it !!! ive had this request for an EMBARRASSINGLY long time, anon if you’re upset, i totally understand

warnings: mentions of injuries, burns, rude customers, bandaging some wounds n stuff, fluff and pining !!! (disclaimer: I’ve never been a barista so forgive me if this is a lil off)

masterlist, requests are open !!

Working in a rustic-vintage-corner-campus-cafe was definitely not how you saw your college years going. Your teen self would’ve killed to work at a place like this but when you grew up, you realized just how different the workload is between a high school student and a uni one such as yourself. 

You weren’t complaining of course. The pay was adequate, your manager was a simple old lady who never had much to say other than making sure all the equipment was clean, you got along with your coworkers pretty well for the most part and the customers were tolerable. 

But every once in a while, you’d get an entitled shithead who seemed to make it their life’s mission to ruin someone else’s day. And the problem with working a social job such as you did, is that you were an easy target. 

It started off as a fairly simple day, you clocked in and put on your apron ready to start your shift for the day. You preferred late morning shifts, leaving afternoons for classes (and the rouge 8am lecture every now and then) and nights for going out or studying. 

“Oh, Y/N! Thank god you're here,” Your co-worker, Vanessa, exclaimed.

Vanessa was a few years older than you. She actually wasn’t a student, she’d given college a try and it wasn’t her thing. Apparently, all it did was “try to undermine unstoppable greatness.” She was chatty, but you actually liked that about her. She could keep up a conversation with a statue. When you first started off here she’d been the one to show you the ropes and ever since then, you’d had a specific bond with her that you couldn’t really put a name to.

You gave her a small smile, “Yeah well, I do prefer to show up when promised. Especially when my paycheck depends on it,” you let out a small laugh.

“Yes! See, that's what I love about you,” she made a disgusted face, “Unlike Peter. Honestly, I don't understand how he hasn’t been fired yet! He shows up at least half an hour late to every shift yet Miss Hannigan still keeps him around.”

“Oh,” you stuttered, raising your hands a little in defense, “I didn't mean it as a jab at Peter, I swear.”

She tossed a curled blonde lock of hair over her shoulders while waving her other hand in dismissal, “Honey, don’t worry about it. I know you would never, you’re far too sweet for that. But I wouldn’t blame you if you did, you know, having to work more than half your shift alone? I swear if Bernard did that to me,” she made a big show of gesturing to herself, "I would not deal with it.”

While what she was saying wasn’t necessarily wrong, it didn’t feel right talking about Peter like that. Sure, he was late most of the time, leaving you to do most of the work while you waited for him to show up (somehow when he started working you two got the same shift together and it’s just been that way ever since) and while you, also, normally wouldn’t put up with this, there was something different about Peter. You never felt like he was taking advantage of you, and purposefully made you pick up extra slack. It was quite the opposite actually, he always apologized profusely and never slacked when he was on the clock. He always seemed so rushed and out of breath, you were pretty sure the poor boy just needed to learn how to manage time better. Plus, he always took it upon himself to unpack the orders because of all the heavy lifting required (you couldn’t tell just by looking at him, with all the sweaters he wore, but man was he ripped.)

“He’s actually really sweet.” You’re not sure why exactly you’re so keen on defending Peter. You two barely spoke, outside of work of course, and you don’t know much about him. But something inside you didn’t like anyone assuming anything bad about him. 

“Yea, well, he’d be a ton sweeter if he clocked in on time,” she laughed as she untied her apron, getting ready to leave. You faked a laugh as well, not wanting the conversation to progress any further. 

“Alrighty, well,” she heaved a breath, “I'm off, have a good rest of your day Y/N.”

You smiled once again and sent a wave her way before settling down in front of the register. It was slow today, not many people in the shop. A fellow student you only recognized from work sat in a corner booth with their headphones locked in and was working on what seemed to be some kind of essay. 

There was an older woman, however, looking incredibly irritated at the table closest to you. You’d never seen her before but that wasn’t too strange. It was a near-campus cafe, after all, lots of people passing through. She looked to be typing on her phone until, suddenly, she shut it off and made direct eye contact with you. 

If looks could kill, you would’ve dropped dead behind the counter, which wouldn’t be all that ideal considering you couldn’t remember the last time anyone mopped that side of the store. 

She stood up and walked towards you and you already dreaded the conversation to come.

“I have an order,” she spit out, as if she were disgusted to even be talking to you at the moment. 

No greeting or anything, wow. Someone wasn’t raised right. 

Nonetheless, you put on your well-rehearsed customer service smile and gave in. “Sure, I’d be happy to help with that. Can you just give me the order?”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “I shouldn’t have to, I called in and placed it and it should be ready by now. I'm going to be late!”

You froze for a moment, not quite sure what to do, “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience ma’am, but I just got here and I haven’t heard anything,” you glance at the little whiteboard kept on the counter for these exact situations only to find it empty, “and I don’t see anything here about a phone-placed order. Are you sure you have the right store?”

Her face was so red and steam was practically blowing out of her ears, “Of course, I have the right store! Do you think I'm stupid or something?”

“No! Of course not, I'm so sorry,” you start to blabber off, not wanting to make her any angrier than she already was, “I’ll get things ready for you right away ma’am.”

You turned around and tried to make yourself not freak out as badly as you wanted to. It was so humiliating getting yelled at like this in public! And yeah, maybe if you had such a problem with unpleasant interactions like this, you shouldn't have taken a social job such as this one, but honestly, you thought people would have enough manners not to act up like this. Apparently not. 

It slipped your mind for a moment because of how scrambled you got when the lady flipped her lid, but Vanessa has been known to do this, forget to write down orders and leave you to fend for yourself (quite literally since your coworker was never really around) and you’re pretty sure that’s what happened here. Other customers were usually more understanding than this woman bordering on Kathy-Bates-movie-character-insanity over a drink order. 

You reached into your back pocket, deciding you’d try to send her a hurried text about any phone calls she might remember. That just seemed to anger your customer more.

“Excuse me?! I'm sitting here waiting for my order and you're too busy chatting away on your phone?”

You lose yourself for a moment and you can’t feel your face anymore. 

“I am so sorry ma’am,” you repeat, which seems to be your mantra since you started working today, “I was just checking to see if-,”

“I don't care what you were checking, or what you need to see! Give me what I paid for,” her hand started smacking against the counter loud enough for the only other person in the store to look up, broken from their reverie. They merely shot you an apologetic look before getting back to their work, leaving you to fend for yourself.

“You have terrible customer service, honestly. I come here every Tuesday with my book club, but never again. If I don’t get exactly what I asked for in the next five minutes, I'm calling your boss and not leaving until I'm sure you’re fired.” 

You shake your head, “There’s no need to do that ma’am, I'll get everything ready for you.”

You turned around once again, this time, heading towards the cappuccino machine. You’re not sure why you said that considering you have no clue what ‘everything’ is that has to get ready. 

In all honesty, there’s a low chance that a suburban-white-soccer-mom type would have any real effect on your employment. Miss Hannigan would surely not fire you just because some order forgot to be written down and some customer got pissed. Right?

But you really didn’t want to find out. 

So, you started up the machine and turned to grab a cup. Today, apparently, was just doomed from the start. As you turned to grab one of the cups placed on the shelf over the machine, your hand hit the button that turned on the steam wand. Which was aimed directly at your other hand. 

You bit down the yelp that threatened to escape and jumped back, the back of your hand now searing with pain. Instinctively, your other hand came to cup your injured one, which only made it worse. You fought back tears as you moved to turn the steam back off. 

Inhaling deeply, you took a moment to try to get your mind working again. “Hello?!” Of course. You turned your head and gave her the fakest smile you’ve ever mustered in your whole life. “One minute ma’am.”

You could hear her going off about how she doesn’t have a minute to spare, but you ignored her, trying to think of what the hell you could give her to just get her out of your face. You’d have to guess her order since I wasn’t actually taken. You’d started playing a game with yourself since you worked here, guessing people's drink orders, and you’d say you’ve gotten pretty good. 

You peeked a look back at her. You’d had customers around her age come in before and order, for the most part, the same thing. A plain cappuccino. Seemed like a safe bet.

Swallowing down the pain as best you could, you approached the machine again. This time, taking out the portafilter. It must’ve not been put in correctly because it clattered to the ground, coffee grinds falling around the floor. 

You wanted to cry. Your hand hurt like hell, there was a new mess to deal with, and that lady hadn’t stopped complaining since you stepped in. 

Frozen, you began to panic a little, breaths coming out sporadically. You’d leave the sweeping for later, but you had to clean the filter so you could use it because it was the only one. And the slightest brush of air made your hand burn even more. You had no clue how to go about this. Maybe if you-

Like an angel, Peter rushed in through the side door. Tying his apron around his waist, he looked towards you. Your hand flew up to your mouth at his perfect timing and you saw his expression grow more concerned. 

He rushed towards you. “What happened?” And for a second, you forget everything that was stressing you out just a few moments before. He grabbed your hand so gently, you forgot every ounce of pain. 

“I cannot believe this!” She wasn’t giving up and you shut your eyes in frustration, turning to reply to her again. But before you can open your mouth, Peter steps in. “Hold on, can’t you clearly see she’s hurt?”

She scoffed and crossed her arms, “That’s her fault. If she knew how to do her job, it wouldn’t have happened.”

You could feel the anger rolling off him in waves. His expression hardened and his mouth opened to shoot something back at her, but this time, you cut him off. You placed your non-injured hand on his shoulder and gave him a look. 

He stared at you for a few seconds before finally giving in, blowing out some air in a frustrated huff. “Go wait for me inside,” he told you, nodding his head toward the employees-only backroom. 

“What?” You asked confused. You didn’t wanna leave him alone. 

“You’re not working right now, there’s no way I’m letting you. I’ll deal with her. Go, I’ll be right there,” he said, shoving you away gently.

Once you heard that he’d be following you, you were more willing. You walked through the door and took a seat at the table usually used for meal breaks. The ‘break room’ was a small room positioned in the back of the store. You can’t remember what this place used to be (a diner maybe?) but this specific room was used as an office, but Miss Hannigan claimed she had no use for an office so it was used for employee breaks. 

Every ounce of you was grateful for Peter’s Superman moment back there. He came in today earlier than usual and he’d totally saved your ass. You were going to make sure to tell him. 

You weren’t waiting long before the door opened again and Peter walked in, holding a backpack you hadn’t seen on him before. In his other hand, he held a drink. He placed the drink on the table before he grabbed one of the chairs, bringing it close to yours, and you turned your body to face him. 

He picked up your hand again, just as gently as before. “Alright,” he let out a breath of relief, “it’s not as bad as I thought, but, it’s still gonna take a while to heal. Wait,” he leaned over, unzipping his bag and taking supplies out while you just stared at him.

“I thought you majored in biochemistry.” You blurted out. Your face heated up a little when he looked at you curiously.

“I- I saw your textbooks once when you left your bag open. And I’ve seen you around campus, near the science-y buildings…and stuff.” You shrugged and he chuckled. 

“I do,” he nodded, “any medical stuff is self-taught. I get into a lot of…accidents.”

“Oh.” You nodded at him. What kind of accidents would he get into? You’d never seen him hurt, but what did you know. 

“I take it you don’t major in anything science-y,” he said, grinning at you.

You shook your head, “No, I don’t. But I have a chemistry class I have to take for credit. Which makes no sense because chemistry has nothing to do with what I want to learn.”

He laughed and set his bag back down, everything he needed was now laid out on the table. “Okay,” he picked up a white tube with red lettering on it. “This is gonna help with pain and scarring. I’m going to spread some of this, then wrap it up for you.” You looked at the table and saw he’d also taken out some white gauze. What kind of ‘accidents’ did he get into?

You nodded, at a complete loss for words. You had no idea Peter knew so much about injuries and you were so thankful he was helping you out. You didn’t hate each other, but you weren’t close either.

He applied a small amount to the back of your hand, asking you constantly if you were okay as he rubbed it on softly. Honestly, even if it did hurt, you wouldn’t have the heart to tell him.

He finished up with the cream and moved onto the gauze, expertly wrapping it up to lightly cover your wound. When he was finished with that, he carefully tied it off, making sure not to tie it too tight.

“There,” he leaned back and smiled at you, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. “All fixed up.”

 “Thank you, Peter, really.” You reluctantly pulled your hand back into your lap, missing the warmth of his fingers wrapped around it.

“You don’t need to thank me Y/N, it’s the least I could do. I’m just glad I got here earlier than usual.”

You nodded and looked down. “Well thanks anyway, you saved my ass back there. Seriously, I have no idea what’s wrong with me today but I kept fucking everything up.”

“Hey,” he said softly, making you look up and meet his gaze. “You didn’t fuck anything up. Okay? You made a few mistakes, but that's not your fault. She shouldn’t have been treating you like that, especially when you’d hurt yourself.” He looked away and scoffed as he remembered the terrible customer that had ruined your morning. You would’ve felt extremely touched by his care if it weren’t for his next words.

“All that for a plain fucking cappuccino.” He mumbled.

“A plain cappuccino? Really?” You asked excitedly, forgetting about everything, and grinning at him wildly. 

“Um, yeah…why?” He asked you, confusion was written all over his face, but he couldn’t help his own smile slightly growing when he noticed your enthusiasm.

“Nothing,” you shook your head quickly, smile never fading, “I just…well, I play this game with myself where I guess people's drink orders. And I think I’m getting pretty good because that’s exactly what I was going to make her before you walked in.”

He laughed out loud and you joined in. “What’s my order?” He asked. 

You paused for a moment. “A caramel macchiato with extra caramel.”

He looked at you for a bit, “Close,” he admitted. “It used to be.”

“So are you gonna tell me what it is now?”

Shaking his head, he leaned over the table and dragged the drink he’d brought in earlier in front of you. “Here,” he changed the subject, “I made you this.”

You’d completely forgotten about it, and when you took a closer look, you realized it was your coffee order. 

Your mouth fell open, “How’d you know?”

He just shrugged, smiling slightly. He knew it was your favorite, but the confirmation was still nice. “I've seen you make it for yourself. Educated guess.”

“Oh my god,” you said, voice soft. It was a simple thing really, you had one most days at the end of your shift. But the fact that he’d noticed… It just meant a lot. “Thank you so much, Peter.”

He just waved you off, his smile growing when he noticed your reaction to the drink. He couldn’t believe he got a chance to speak to you. Truly speak to you. He was always too awkward or embarrassed or trying to avoid embarrassment. But now, while he didn’t like the circumstances that led you both here, he was actually talking to you. And it was nice.

“So,” he started, not wanting this to end just yet, “you said you’ve got a chemistry class?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, picking up your drink and taking a sip. “The one with Professor Hall. I actually have a class after this shift. I totally suck though, and he hates me. I just don’t get it, and he doesn’t explain it well!”

Peter nodded, completely understanding what you meant. It was a tough subject to begin with, and he knew not everyone was as into science as he was, add onto that a teacher who doesn’t really teach, it’s a recipe for disaster. 

“I actually had that class. Last year. I can help you, sometimes. If you’d like me to, that is!” He rushed out. Great, he thought, now I’m getting awkward. 

You looked up at him, eyes wide. “Really? Do you mean that?”

“Of course. I think I’ve still got my notes too, if you want ‘em.” He shrugged nonchalantly as if he wasn’t saving your ass again. 

“Oh my god Peter,” you placed your non-injured hand on his knee, not noticing the way his body stiffened and he gulped. “That would help so much. There’s a huge exam coming up, and it's a huge part of my grade so I have to pass. I started cramming earlier but—”

“I’ll help,” he reassured you, “I enjoy science anyway, so it’ll be fun for me.”

“Thank you,” you repeated. Staring at him so close, you realized you’d never noticed how handsome he was. Sure there were times you thought he was cute, from afar, but now…you could see the different shades of brown in his eyes, the way one of his eyebrows was slightly curlier than the other, unwilling to sit straight. You couldn’t help but stare-

“Oh my god,” you repeated, except this time, you had remembered something. “If we’re both in here, who’s outside?”

“What? Oh, um,” he scratched the back of his neck, still reeling from having you so close to him. “Freddy’s out there?”

“Freddy?” You asked confused. 

He nodded. “The guy writing on his laptop, he’s friends with my roommate, throws the craziest parties. He’s chill, I told him to keep an eye out if someone else walks in. But it’s been slow, so I think we’re good.”

“Oh, okay.” You said, standing up. “We should probably still go though.”

He stood up beside you, frowning. “I don’t think you should work with your hand hurt. I don’t want you accidentally making it worse.”

Your heart warmed at his concern. “That's really sweet Peter, but I’ll be fine. I don’t know what happened before, I never do stuff like that, even accidentally.”

He still didn’t look convinced. “Why don’t you just go home? I can take it for today.”

You shook your head quickly, “I’m not leaving. I have a class later and it would just be a waste of time going back and forth anyway.”

You walked towards the door, opened it, and exited before he had a chance to argue anymore. You stepped behind the counter while Peter rushed out behind you. You watched Freddy give him a thumbs up and Peter nodded at him before he followed right after you. 

“Are you sure you should go to class today? I can walk you home so you can take the day off,” he offered, and he looked so genuine you almost accepted. 

“Peter,” you laughed and he decided no matter what your response was, it wouldn’t matter because hearing you say his name like that was enough. “I’ll be fine, I didn’t break both my legs, it's just a small burn.”

He stared at you for a bit as you smiled at him, trying to get him to ease up. “Fine,” he gave in reluctantly. “But no going towards the cappuccino machine,” he waved a finger at you, “or the ovens. Or anything hot!”

“Fine,” you shot back, grinning wide and he couldn’t help but return it.

The rest of the morning had gone by easily and you thought maybe you didn’t have totally shit luck. Peter was way more fun than you ever thought he’d be and you wondered why you didn’t start talking to each other sooner. 

It used to be silently working together but after those few moments in the break room, you guys were laughing your whole shift. He meant what he said, and he kept you away from anything that produced heat (which you told him was an insane boundary to set in a cafe) so you had extra time to make quips here and there.

You started playing your order-guessing game with him, teaching him certain traits that gave someone away:

“Side part, beanie, and a crossbody? Oh, he’s getting a tall, dark, americano for sure.”

“She’s getting tea. No coffee, just tea. Maybe with a little lemon wedge.”

And he started to get the hang of it. 

“She looks like she drinks matchas right?” He said to you when a girl around your age walked in. He’d been right and you both laughed about it afterwards. 

When your work shift ended, you were actually upset. 

“I’ve got a class to get to,” you told him, lifting your bag onto your shoulder. You’d both cleaned up and gotten yourselves ready, now standing in front of the door. Something in you didn’t want to leave just yet, enjoying your time together far too much to end it so soon. 

“Yeah…” he trailed off, you waited for him to continue but he hesitated. 

“What is it?” You crossed your arms and smiled slightly, shifting your weight onto your other foot. He brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, “I just…well, I was just wondering—if it's okay with you of course!” He rushed out, quickly bringing his hands up. “That I could walk you to class?”

You laughed, “I’d love that Pete, thank you.” You turned to open the door to let you both out but he quickly moved forward, holding it open for you and motioning for you to move forward. 

Looking back at him, you smiled and noticed his cheeks were a little red. How had you never noticed how adorable he was?

The walk back to campus wasn’t long but you learned a lot. He told you where he went to high school, his friends he still kept in touch with, his Aunt May, some funny moments from parties he’d been forced to attend by his roommate, and you laughed together.

You told him about the book you were currently reading, your life back home and your family, and why you chose to go to this college. He went along with your jokes, which made it all the more better for you. “I mean if you think about it,” you'd said, “it is so much easier to romanticize your life  when your school campus is as pretty as this one, and that’s real motivation!”

The conversation flowed naturally between you two and it felt like you’d been friends for ages. He dropped you off outside of your class building with the promise of picking you up afterward so you two could study together. 

“So I’ll be back here in an hour right,” he asked. 

“Right,” you smiled at him. “And thanks again Pete, for everything.” You held up your bandaged hand, shaking it a little before setting it back down. 

He shook his head quickly, “Don’t thank me for that. Really.”

You stared at him with a warm expression. “Bye Peter,” you waved as you turned to walk into your class.

“Bye Y/N,” he returned. He watched you walk through the doors, shooting him one last smile before you disappeared from view, before blowing out a breath of air. 

He’d finally gotten a chance to talk to the girl he’d been crushing on for months, and he got to walk her to class! And they were meeting up afterward. After working so close to you and never having the guts to initiate a conversation, he’d settled for just admiring you from afar. But after today, there was nothing that could keep him away. 

You were not having a good day. 

You’d just found out that your chemistry exam was being bumped up to two days from now. Even with the early studying you’d done before, there was no way you could catch up with everything that fast. You were so overwhelmed you had completely forgotten Peter was waiting for you outside. 

You walked out, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, and you practically jumped out of your skin when someone placed a hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey, don’t worry,” he said, his voice soft yet full of concern. Peter. “It's just me. What happened?”

The second he saw you walk out, he could tell something was off. He could literally sense the anxiety rolling off of you in waves. He had waited for you to look up and stop when you saw him, but you were just about to walk past him before he stopped you. Now, you were looking at him with distress coating every feature on your face. Your brows were pinched, your lip red from biting it, and your eyes wide and distant like you couldn’t even see him and he was standing right in front of you. Something had gone wrong and he wanted nothing more than to fix it. 

“What is it? What’s wrong? He asked frantically. 

“Oh my god,” you whispered, hands flying up to the sides of your head and gripping your hair. You weren’t looking at him anymore, “Oh my god.”

“Ok Y/N,” he said nervously, “you’re starting to scare me.”

“Two days Peter!” You looked at him wildly. “Two days! I can’t go over everything in two days, is he fucking insane? I didn’t even know he could do something like that, I mean, can he do something like that? I feel like that shouldn’t be allowed it should—”

You cut yourself off and started pacing back and forth in front of him. “Oh my god, I’m gonna bomb this. And if I fail, it’ll bring my whole grade down! I can’t afford that I—”

“Hey,” he repeated, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder again. “I said I’m gonna help you, and I meant it. So we’re gonna get through this together, even if we have to stay up all night.”

You stared at him, trying to wonder what you’d done in your life to deserve such an angel. 

You shook your head quickly, “I really appreciate that Peter, but I’m serious. There’s no way I can learn everything I need to know that fast.”

You tried to smile at him but it didn’t reach your eyes. 

He grinned, his expression the total opposite of yours. “Well, you’ve clearly never studied with me, so don’t sound too sure yet.”

Another thing you’d come to realize was just how smart Peter was. 

You really should’ve known when he told you he’d taken that advanced chemistry class a year ago. And passed. 

Looking through his notes, you could see his attention to detail. He really wasn’t a slacker in the classroom because everything was clearly laid out here. 

You’d spent that night going over everything and you’d actually started to feel hopeful about it. Peter was a way better teacher than Professor Hall, and it didn’t hurt that he was so cute. He was understanding with everything and was willing to go over any part for as long as it took for you to fully grasp it. 

At the end of the night, he’d undone the wrappings around your hand, reapplied the cream for you, and wrapped it up again.

“It’s doing okay,” he reassured you. “Like I said, it’s gonna take a while, but if it starts hurting or anything, take some medicine. Then find me.”

You were sure you’d just melted into his hands at that moment.

The next day, you couldn’t wait to get through everything and see him again, even if you were going to be talking about chemistry. 

You weren’t scheduled to work at the cafe today, so you’d only get to meet up after both of your classes. 

Lectures were a blur, nothing really catching your attention and you spent most of the time with your phone tucked in your hand texting back and forth with Peter, barely concealing your laughter when he sent you memes. 

It was like that all day, until, finally, you made your way over to his small apartment he shared with one of his friends. 

its very quaint 🤌

(totally NOT what we say to make ourselves feel better about this shoebox)

He’d told you over text, making you laugh out loud as you made your way over there. 

dw🫡 I was one of those kids who used to live in their play tents and hid in random corners and spaces

im totally ready for this

ok but be warned, we do not have a pet!!! they are not allowed per our lease!!! ignore the cat when you come in!!! tell no one!!!

what cat ??

good girl ;)

Your face flushed as you made your way up the steps to his door. You knocked three times and barely had to wait a second before Peter stood before you, holding the door open. 

“Hi,” he said, smiling at you. 

“Hi,” you grinned back. You heard a small ‘meow’ come from behind him and he quickly held up a finger to his lips. You covered your mouth, stifling a laugh as you nodded at him. 

“Come on in,” he said, stepping out of the way to lead you through the door. You stepped in and kicked off your shoes before looking around. It was plain, but that was to be expected really. 

There was a large poster hanging next to their TV, however, that caught your eye. “Big fan?” You asked him, shoving your thumb in the direction of the Star Wars poster. 

He shrugged nonchalantly, “Kind of.”

“Oh. Well, I was just asking because I love those movies. My little brother used to watch them and I got really into it.”

“Oh. I mean—I don’t know what I was saying before I love them too.” He rushed out, making you giggle.

He stayed staring at you for a bit, his eyes rounding out and his mouth gaping a little bit. 

You gave him a small smile, “Okay, well we should-” You let out a small yelp, hands flying to your mouth as you jumped back. 

The living room was small. The only things occupying it were the TV mounted to the wall, and in front of it, was a sofa. And on the sofa, was an unconscious body that you hadn’t noticed until it let out a low groan. You really weren’t sure how you missed it, there wasn’t much else to look at, but they had just been so still. 

Heart beating erratically, you turned towards Peter again, who was looking at you with all the amusement in the world written all over his face. “Was he always there,” you whispered, eyes wide.

He opened his arms, “Well, angel, I really don’t know. Did you see anyone come in?”

“Oh shut up,” you grumbled. “He looks familiar…is that..”

“Freddy.” He finished for you. Right. The dude from the cafe. 

“He crashes here sometimes.” He added.

You nodded. “Alright.”

“Shall we?” He opened a door beside him and looked at you. 

“Right. Yeah, of course.” You walked past him and into his room. You stopped after you entered, taking a moment to look around. His room was simple, with just his bed, a desk and chair, and a dresser perched next to another door you assumed was his closet. 

What really caught your attention, however, were the photos scattered all over the walls. The room was practically engulfed in Peter Parker’s memories, and you really liked it. Without thinking, you approached one wall, walking through them and taking each one in. 

There were some with large groups of people, those looked like school trips. Most of the photos were of the same two people, and based on what he’d told you, you assumed those were his friends. Ned and MJ. 

A lot of the photos contained an older woman, who looked stunning. That had to be his Aunt May. You were shocked by how many photos he had with the Tony Stark. He’d told you he had an internship at Stark Industries, but really, you sorta thought he just went on coffee runs all day. 

And then, you saw a couple shots of Spider-Man. It wasn’t unusual, you knew a lot of people snapped photos of the masked hero when they spotted him around the city. What was unusual, was the quality of the photos. You didn’t know if you’d ever seen such clear photos of him, even on the news, as he was always swinging and in motion. In these, Peter seemed to have caught him at just the right time. You wondered how long it took him to capture the photos.

“Big fan?” You smirked over at him from your spot by one of the Spider-Man photos as you repeated your words from earlier. 

Peter leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, content with watching go over the details of his life. He felt a little naked, like he was bared out in front of you. But…it felt good too. He liked knowing you were learning new things about him, and curious to know more. It filled him with an anxious sort of giddiness.

“You first,” he said slyly.

Laughing, you said, “Well, I don’t see how anyone can hate on the guy. He literally runs around saving lives”

He laughed as he approached you, standing by your side. You’d be surprised. “True I guess.”

“We should get to studying,” you said, breezing past him, your hand brushing his bicep as you did. He sucked in a breath, his entire body feeling electrocuted after that one touch. He wondered how you seemed so normal, laying out your books and papers on the floor beside his bed. 

This was gonna be a long night. 

He cleared his throat and moved to sit across from you, hoping he didn’t look as flushed as he felt. 

After a few moments of him watching you get settled, you heard him start laughing. Looking up you asked, “What’s so funny?”

That only made him laugh harder. “Just thinking about how scared you got before. Did you really not see him?”

You felt your face go hot. “I didn’t! I had no clue he was there, and next thing I know he’s making lawn mower nosies!”

Peter was red in the face now. “The way you flew back,” he said between fits of laughter, “I thought you’d give yourself whiplash.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled at him, picking up one of your pens and throwing it at him. It bounced off without him even flinching. 

You looked down, avoiding his gaze by busying yourself with your papers. 

“Okay I’m ready to be serious now,” he said. The laughter was gone but amusement twinkled in his voice. 

“Great! Welcome back Pete, now hand me that pen, I’m gonna need it.”

Two hours later, you were both sprawled across the floor tossing Chess-Its at one another. 

“Come on!” You threw your arms up in defeat when you threw another cracker at him just for him to catch it again. 

Peter chuckled, “Sorry angel, I’ve just got killer reflexes.”

“Alright whatever,” You rolled your eyes. “Come on, throw some at me.”

You opened your mouth, ready to finally win one round of this nonsense…just for a Cheez-It to hit your cheek and fall to the ground with the rest of your tries. 

Peter laughed while you sat up, reached to grab the box of crackers, and poured some into your hand before putting it back down. 

“Okay, I’m done. I actually want to eat them now.” You said, munching on a cracker and sitting against the side of his bed. 

“Oh come on, don’t be a quitter Y/N/N,” he grinned, leaning over and pinching your cheek. 

You swatted his hand away with your empty one. “M’not.”

He smiled at you before sitting up. “Hit me,” he said, opening his mouth and pointing at it. 

You grabbed a Cheez-It from the palm of your hand and made a big show of trying to get your aim right. Squinting one eye, you stared at him, moving your hand back and forth before tossing it slightly more to the right. On purpose. 

That didn’t stop him from leaning over and catching it in his mouth. 

“I don’t like this game,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“Don’t act like I don’t know what you did,” he said back, munching on his Cheez-it. 

“Sue me,” you told him, brushing him off with a wave of your hand. 

He laughed before he settled down. “How’s your hand feeling by the way.” His voice was considerably softer now, making you smile softly at him. 

“It’s doing great, thank you again, Peter. I would’ve been totally fucked if it weren’t for you,” you told him honestly. 

He shook his head, “Don’t thank me at all Y/N. Hate seeing you hurt,” he mumbled, less to you and more to himself and he stayed staring at your wrapped-up hand. 

“Well don’t worry about that, it doesn’t hurt at all.”

“Yeah?” He looked at you suddenly, like he needed to know you meant it. 

“Yeah,” you nodded at him. 

“That’s good,” he breathed out and your heart squeezed at how much he seemed to care. 

“What's your plan? Y’know, for after school?” You didn’t want to leave just yet, even with your studying done. And you wanted to know more about him. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t taken a certain liking to him lately. 

“Well after I get my degree, I’m going move up a little further in Stark Industries. I’m still undecided on grad school, I think I’ve got everything I need and I’m probably just gonna start saving up to pay off student loans instead of adding on them.”

You nodded at him, “So the Stark internship is going well? No offense, I sort of thought you were their coffee mule.” You grinned at him before popping a Cheez-It in your mouth. 

He scoffed, “No, I’m not. I mean, it did take a while to get them to take me seriously, but I got there!”

You laughed, “Well, very proud of you Pete. That’s super impressive.”

He grinned at you, his face heating up at your words. He wondered if you knew how much it affected him every time you called him Pete. Probably not, but he never wanted you to stop. 

You two stayed like that for another hour or so, time passing by without you noticing at all. You talked about your futures, where you say yourselves after school, and after that. Your admiration for him only grew as you got to know him more. You could talk to him all night and never get bored honestly, you-

Shit. 

A random notification lit up your phone, which lay beside you on the floor, making you take notice of the time. 

You sat up quickly, spitting out curses as you started gathering your belongings and shoving them into your bag. 

Peter sat up as well, helping you get your things together but in a calmer manner than yourself. 

“Relax Y/N,” he said in a soothing voice. 

“Pete I can’t do it.” You turned to him suddenly, dropping everything in your hands. 

“Do what, angel?”

“The exam is tomorrow. I’m not ready! I’m gonna fail, and that one grade, that one stupid grade, is gonna hold me back and ruin everything-”

“Sweetheart look at me,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. His grip was warm and reassuring. “You are not going to fail. And I know this because I’ve spent the last few hours studying with you, and I saw how smart you are, and how quick you caught on. You’re gonna walk in there tomorrow and ace that test, I know you are!

“And if for some reason you don’t,” he continued, “you gave it your best. You tried your hardest and you learned something, which is all that matters in the end. So breathe, stop stressing, and let me walk you home.”

“All that talk as an excuse to ask to take me home?” You snorted, “Peter you shouldn’t have.” Despite your jokes, you took his advice and took a deep breath. He was right, you’d studied your hardest, both with and without his help. All you could do was take the exam and hope for the best now.

He laughed and stood up, holding out a hand once he saw you all packed and ready. “Caught me. So is that a yes?”

You took his hand and pulled yourself up but didn’t let go right away. “If I fail, do we have to stop hanging out? Y’know, with you being a science prodigy and all.”

He laughed again and placed both his hands on your shoulder, staring straight into your eyes. “Never.”

“Ok, well, just making sure. I wouldn’t wanna give you a bad rep in the science community or something-”

You were suddenly cut off from your babbling when he pressed his lips to yours. You froze for a second, unsure what to do, but it didn’t take long for you to catch up and kiss him back. 

He pulled away after a few moments, “Done with the jokes?” His voice was soft and teasing.

“Uh huh,” you mumbled, eyes still closed. “But I think you might need to do that again, just to be sure.”

He chuckled murmuring something that sounded like ‘too cute’ but you couldn’t be bothered to hear when you felt his lips on yours again, this time, expecting them. 

You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and canting your head slightly for better access. He groaned, one arm wrapping around your middle, the other settling on your waist.

You might have pictured kissing him before, just maybe. But none of your daydreaming could’ve prepared you for the real thing. The way his bottom lip covered your top one, the soft breaths exchanged between the two of you, the way he pressed himself further into you when you tugged his hair a little harder. This definitely beat all of your daydreams. 

You could’ve stayed that way forever, and you probably would’ve if Peter hadn’t taken one for the team and pulled away first. 

Or tried to, at least. 

“We should-” kiss. 

“You-” kiss. 

“I need to walk,” kiss, “-you home angel.” He murmured against your lips.

“Okay,” you whispered back but you didn’t move to pull away, and he didn’t push you. The two of you stayed stuck, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, taking in the atmosphere of each other. 

“I should probably go now,” you said softly. Peter hummed in agreement, leaning in to peck your lips gently. 

“It’s getting late,” but your voice is more of a sigh. You don’t know what he’s laced his lips with but each kiss makes you weak in the knees and woozier than the last one.

“God, d’yknow I’ve had the biggest crush on you.” He said, completely disregarding your previous statement. 

That stops you. “What?” You asked him in disbelief. Peter had a crush on you? No way, you would’ve known. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled lightly, “don’t act so shocked. I was always a stuttering mess at work whenever you so much as looked at me.”

True. But you’d just thought he was a bit more on the shy side. 

“I’d seen you around campus before and I thought you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen, and I still do, but I thought I had no shot in hell with you. And when I got the job at the cafe and saw I’d be working with you? I almost lost my fucking mind sweetheart.” You both laughed a little and you couldn’t help the way your cheeks flamed up because of his words. Did he have any clue what he was doing to you right now?

“So I just sorta kept my distance, y’know? Admired you from afar ‘cause I was too scared you’d reject me. Sadly, it only took you nearly burning your hand off,” he gave you a look and you burst into giggles, him doing you and slightly pinching your waist, “for me to get over myself and actually keep up a conversation with you. But now I’ve got you in my room, kissing me.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, “lucky you.” You joked as leaned in to press another kiss to his lips. 

“Lucky me indeed,” he murmured before pulling you in even deeper. He dipped you, making you squeal into the kiss. Then he pulled you up, unable to keep the kiss going any longer with how hard he was grinning.

“Oh my god,” you said, laughing breathlessly. 

“A lot more where that came from,” he smirked at you. 

“You know,” you moved to pick up your bag, “for someone who was so scared to talk to me for so long, you sure found the confidence now.”

“What can I say? You make it easy. Once I started I couldn’t stop.” You smiled at him as he gently placed a hand on your arm leading you to the door. The living room was empty now, no one to be found on the couch or otherwise and you wondered where their cat had wandered off to.

You bent over to put on your shoes, Peter doing the same. He stepped forward and opened the door for you, letting you step out before following you and locking the door. 

As soon as he was done with that, you reached over and grabbed his hand. “Hey Petey?” You said lightly. Oh, he was going to melt. From now on, he only wanted you to call him that.

“Hm?”

“I’m glad you finally decided to talk to me.” 

He leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “Yeah? Me too angel.”

The next morning, you awoke in the brightest mood, considering you had a chemistry exam later that day. All you could think about was Peter. You were going to see him later at the cafe and you couldn’t wait. 

You leaned over in bed to pick up your phone. Speak of the devil. 

GOOD MORNINGGGGG❤️

hope you slept well angel, can’t wait to see you today. and you’re gonna totally ace that exam!🥰

seriously you’re going to kick chemistry’s butt

A huge smile bloomed on your face, almost hurting from how wide it was. Usually, you'd stay in bed for a while, scrolling through Instagram or just going through messages or something. Not today, you couldn’t wait to get to work. Maybe Peter was a good influence on you. 

After getting ready for the day, you made your way to the cafe with a little bounce in your steps. The bell jingled above you as you opened the door and for the first time since you’d started working together, Peter was here before you. 

“Hey,” he smiled, holding up your usual drink order and waving it at you. 

“Hi Pete,” you approached his, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. As you pulled away, you could see how quickly his cheeks pinked, making you grin. 

“No ‘Petey’?”

“Didn’t know you had a preference,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling it towards you as you took a sip from the drink and then moved to get dressed for your shift. 

“Yeah,” he scratched the back of his neck, wishing he could feel your hand on his for just a little longer, “neither did I.”

You laughed lightly as you tied your apron, the sound hitting him like the greatest melody in the world. 

“Okay then,” you walked towards him, stopping right in front of him, “let’s start over. Hi Petey.”

“Hi angel,” he gave you a dopey grin and you returned it. 

“Great, now that we’ve got that figured out.” You patted his chest lightly before taking the drink from his hands and moving away. 

“Hey wait! Where’s my kiss?” He pouted at you and he looked so adorable, you just wanted to pinch his cheeks and kiss him till he begged you to stop.

“We’re at work, we’ve gotta be professional.” You said matter-of-factly. 

He rolled his eyes, leaned against the counter, and crossed his arms. “Professional my ass, no one is even in here-,”

Before he could even close his mouth, the bell jingled, and in stepped a boy about your age. The boy moved to one of the chairs, not moving to order just yet, giving you the chance to smirk at Peter, who just rolled his eyes again. 

“What do you he’s gonna order,” he asked you.

“Hmm…a cookie, probably.” You moved lean against the counter across from him and took a sip of your drink as you smiled. 

“Hey wait, you never told me what your drink order is.”

“Hmm…” he hummed in consideration before he moved towards you, grabbing your hand with the drink and bringing it up to his lips to steal a sip, maintaining eye contact the whole time. 

“I’ve got to say,” he said in a low voice, “this one has really grown on me.”

You couldn’t look away, all you could do was stare. And stare, and stare, and stare…

A stranger’s voice, and then, “Hey, can I get one of those double chocolate chip cookies?”

You were just on cloud nine today. 

You had taken your exam and for the first time ever in that class, you had felt confident in your work. 

And to top it all off, after you’d handed in your paper and packed your things to leave, Professor Hall had given you a ‘well done’ nod. You! He’d never noticed you positively before. You were going to need to drown Peter in thank-you kisses for his help. 

Speaking of Peter, you couldn’t wait to see him. He told you he’d be waiting for you after your class but when you stepped outside, there was no sign of him. You decided to sit on the building steps and wait. He was probably just running a little late, no biggie. 

Big biggie. After 40 minutes of waiting for him, during which you’d sent him a little text and he hadn’t responded, you decided to head over to his place. 

The walk was short and your little buzz had worn off after not getting to share it with Peter. After all, you kind of owed him most of the credit. You arrived at his apartment door, and when you knocked, it wasn't Peter who answered. 

It's Freddy. 

You throw on a smile. “Hi Freddy, is Peter home?”

He returned your smile as he said, “‘Sup Y/N.” He held out his fist and you stared at it for a while before you got the hint and bumped it with your own. “Pete’s not home right now, but you can totally come in and wait for him.”

You found it funny that someone who didn’t live there was inviting you in to stay, but you accepted anyway. You also had no clue how he knew your name. 

You knew little about Freddy, but you knew he was sort of a campus celebrity. Every raging party there was, everyone knew Freddy was behind it. 

“So,” you said as you walked in, “what year are you in Freddy?”

“Ah nah, I’m done with that shit. I took the bar,” he said casually, waving a hand and moving to sit on the couch. He kicked his feet up on the large Amazon box being used as a coffee table and picked up the open beer sitting atop it. 

You stood in your place, clutching your bag. He was in grad school?

“Oh that’s awesome dude, did you not pass or something.”

“Uh uh,” he shook his head, taking a swig of beer, “got a 350.”

Your eyes widened. What. You didn’t know much about law school but you knew getting a score like that on the bar was not an easy thing. 

“Wait when’d you take it?” You asked confused. The bar exam wasn’t scheduled for a few months from now. 

“Last year.”

“Do you like…work at a firm or something?” It was insane to you that the party animal of this school had already graduated, and with an amazing score nonetheless. 

He shook his head, “Workin' on my music right now, and if that doesn’t work out,” he gave you a wicked grin, “well I’ve always got my law degree.”

You nodded, stunned. “That’s sick dude. Good luck,” you told him, waving as you moved to wait in Peter’s room. 

“Keep the door cracked kids,” he shouted towards you and you huffed a laugh as you entered the room and closed the door (leaving it open just an inch) before you sat at the foot of his bed. 

You looked around for a second, taking it all in. It’s amazing how he managed to take this small space and make it so him. 

After a few moments, you took out your phone to shoot him another text. 

But before you could finish typing it out, the window beside you started opening and you watched as the Spider-Man fell onto the bed, not noticing you gaping right next to him. 

You stayed silent, unsure of what to do or say until he moved to take his mask off. That got you moving and talking. 

“Holy fuck!” You basically shout, moving away, hands flying to your mouth. 

He seemed to be just as shocked as you were because he scrambled up from his lying position. And staring back at you was Peter Parker. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked you, eyes wide. It wasn’t till then that you noticed the paleness of his features, his face lacking that usually healthy glow it held, the waver in his voice, and the hand clutching his bloody side. 

“Holy fuck,” you repeated, voice lower, and for a whole different reason this time. “Shit Peter, you’re hurt.” You moved closer to him, temporarily forgetting everything else as your hand reached to gently remove his so you could take in the extent of his injuries. 

“It’s nothing,” he said but made no move to shove you away or stop you. You moved his hand and winced at the sight that greeted you, “Looks like a whole lot more than nothing babe.”

“I’ve had worse.”

You look up at him, frowning slightly, “Not exactly reassuring Petey.”

“I feel all better now,” he said, shooting you a charming grin as soon as he heard the nickname leave your mouth. “Add a kiss in the mix, and I’ll be good as new.”

You huffed a laugh, shoving his knee slightly, “Shut up Peter. I’m serious. I’m sure you’ve got some experience with stuff like this,” you wave a hand towards his suit and injury for emphasis and he gives you a quick nod. 

“Over there,” he pointed toward his dresser, “top shelf, under the blue sweater.”

You rushed over there, opening the drawer and spotting the sweater he mentioned. “I’m totally stealing that from you someday, this is your heads up,” you told him as you grabbed the large box and completely closed the door before you moved back to his side. 

“You can have anything of mine, Angel. I’m sure you’d look better in it anyway.” His words made you blush, but you tried to ignore them so you could focus on the task at hand. 

Peter, however, found that he really liked watching your cheeks pink up. And he wanted more. 

“Lean against the headboard, now.” You said, trying to be serious again. 

“God, at least buy me dinner first sweetheart.” He gave you the dorkiest smirk you’d ever seen. You just glared at him. “On the other hand,” he said as he moved backward to lean against his headboard, “I don’t need dinner, I’m all yours baby girl.”

This got you to laugh, “Peter, be serious! You’re bleeding out!” You moved to his side, “take this off by the way.” You gestured to his suit. 

He hit the middle emblem of a spider and you watched as it loosened up and fell off his shoulders. You had started pulling it the rest of the way down, gulping when you realized he wasn’t wearing anything else, when he mumbled, “Not a terrible way to go.”

You refused to look up and meet his eyes but he knew he got you. Thank god he was wearing underwear, you realized, and you threw the suit to the side after you’d completely shredded him of it. He was definitely going to need a new one. 

Now completely facing the damage, your stomach churned, and you were hit with the hard truth. “I…I don’t know what to do,” you whispered to him. You wanted to help him, more than anything. This man who’s been risking his life, probably since he was a teenager you realized, as you did the math silently in your head, was hurt and right in front of you, needing your help. And you needed to help him, but you didn’t know the first thing about how to approach a situation like this. You were surprised you could stare at the wound for so long. 

“Don’t worry, I can do it,” he said gently, his bloody hand reaching for the huge first aid kit. 

“No!” You rushed out, grabbing his hand to stop him, “No way am I letting you do that! Just…just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.

Feeling more confident, you grabbed the kit and opened it. Shock coursed you as you realized just how much he went through and your confidence fell right back down where it sprouted from. The bag was full of all the medical tools and supplies you could think of, most of them completely foreign to you, and you realized how privileged you must be to not recognize any of these things. You can’t imagine the ‘worse’ he talked about having earlier. This must be those accidents he was talking about.

“I don’t usually have to use them,” his voice was soft, almost like he was reassuring you, “usually just water and a towel does the trick. Maybe a little numbing cream. And these,” he looked down at his wounds, “some bandages, sure, but I won’t need stitches or anything.”

You let out a breath of relief, you weren’t sure you could’ve handled that. You didn’t trust yourself.

“Okay,” you said, grabbing some wipes. You were going to do this. Based on what he’d told you, he was always stitching himself back up, just to hit the streets again the next day. This time, though, was different. This time you were here to help him, and you weren’t going chicken out of this. Even a little help was better than nothing at all. 

You started slowly, cleaning around his wounds so you could bandage them properly. “You sure you’re okay with this?” He asked you gently. “I totally understand if you need me to do it, angel, it’s a lot if you’re not used to it.”

“No,” you shook your head, your voice steady, “No way. It’s my turn to fix you up.” You told him, looking up to meet his eyes and smiling at him. 

He returned it and you went back to work. 

“So….Spider-Man, huh?” You peeked up quickly in question. 

“Yeah,” he took a deep breath, “it’s a long story. Basically, I was bit by some spider, that shit was powerful,” you laughed a little, making him smile. “And I got some. Of its powers I mean.”

“So you get bit by a spider, that spider gives you powers, and you decide to become a New York vigilante?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” he nodded, and you laughed again. 

“You’re a hell of a guy Peter Parker.” You said, shaking your head slightly. 

“Thank you, I try,” he smirked at you and you laughed again. 

“Okay,” you said, pulling away from his side. He almost whined in protest. Honestly, he wasn’t feeling any pain, not since you’d started worrying about him, and insisting you help him. Peter wasn’t used to that, he was always alone when it came to this part of the job. He’d never minded that before, just one of the things he had to deal with as a superhero, but now that someone else was taking care of him…it felt nice. Really nice. Especially when it was you. 

“Peter?” You looked at him questioningly. Shit. You’d asked him something.  

“Huh? I'm sorry, I didn’t hear you.” He said with wide eyes. He’d gotten too wrapped up in the feeling of being taken care of, not that anyone could blame him though, the girl he’d been crushing on forever was here, in his room, helping bandage him up! It's more than he could’ve dreamed of. 

“It’s okay sweetie,” you said, waving him off assuming he was in pain or something. Really, now he had something new to obsess over. Sweetie? While he was practically naked (albeit injured, but he wasn’t thinking of that right now) in bed with you? God, he could just melt.

“I was just wondering which bandages,” you said, holding up the different ones you’d found in his bag. 

“Oh,” he said lamely, “these ones.” He grabbed a few from you and opened them. 

“Look,” he said, leaning over himself to see his wounds properly, “you’ve got to bring together both sides of the wound, then secure the bandage so that it’s holding it closed.” He talked as he placed the first bandage with you watching and listening with intent. 

“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” you said as you took the rest of the bandages from him. You steadied yourself, straddling his thigh as you started placing the bandages down his wound. The biggest gash took about five, your elbow resting on his abdomen as you got lower…and lower. 

Conveniently, you missed the quiver in his breath, too focused on the work at hand, but you didn’t miss the small gasp he let out when your forearm reached right between his thighs. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You said as you pulled away quickly, thinking you’d hurt him. “Did I pinch too hard?”

“No, no angel, you’re fine. Doing a great job actually.” He replied, trying to collect himself. He could not let himself think of that right now. There were more important things at hand. 

“You sure?” You asked him, not looking convinced.

“Positive.” He replied, grabbing your arm and pulling you back in (but making sure to keep you at a healthy distance from his dick). 

You added a few more bandages, most of the cuts only needing one or two, before pulling away again to rummage through his bag. “What do you use on your bruises?”

“This one,” he said, leaning over you and grabbing a tube from the kit. You turned, your lips almost brushing over each other with how close you were. 

“Hi,” you whispered, all thoughts completely flying out of your head as you realized just how badly you wanted to kiss him. 

“Hi angel,” he said smiling softly at you. 

Seeing you debate it in your head, Peter decided it would be easier for the both of you if he did it first. Leaning in, he closed the distance and smoothly took your lips in his. You melted into the kiss right away, feeling like you’d been craving this your whole life when really, you’d just kissed his a few hours ago before you’d left work. 

Your hands were on his bare chest, you could feel every muscle, every move when-

“Wait, you’re hurt!” You pulled away, leaving a pouting Peter in your wake. 

“My lips work just fine angel,” he said, trying to steal another kiss while you tried to avoid him. 

“But..let me finish at least,” you mumbled against his lips, barely getting a chance to pull away after he’d caught you. 

“You can finish, just lemme do this first,” he responded before kissing you again.

“Hey,” you mumbled against his lips. 

He hummed in response, moving to kiss your cheek, your jawline. If he kept this up you might not try to stop him. 

“Did you know Freddy took the bar exam? And passed?”

That got him to pull away. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking at you confusedly, “I’m kissing you and you decide this a good time to bring up Freddy?”

“Well, y’know,” you shrugged, “figured it was as good a time as any.”

He scoffed, “Unbelievable.”

You giggled, “I win.” You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, pulling away before he could catch you and turn it into more.

“Now lay down, lemme do this,” you said waving the cream at him. 

He moved grumpily and you thought grumpy Peter was the cutest thing ever. The furrow of his brows, the slight pout of his lips. You could just kiss him. And you would’ve if you hadn’t known where it would lead you. 

You unscrewed the cap to the cream and started applying it gently. “So Fred’s a lawyer huh?” Peter spoke up. 

“He is!” You whispered excitedly, glad he was just as shocked as you were. 

“And you learned this how?” He asked, giving you a look. 

You shrugged. “He let me in and I talked to him, asked him a few questions to get to know him better since I see him everywhere.” 

“Wait, he’s here right now?”

“Yeah,” you said slowly, “I thought you knew?”

“No I didn’t-,” he let out a sigh, “whatever it's basically his apartment too at this point I guess.”

You laughed, “And you’re okay with that?”

He shrugged with his good side. “He buys the good beer.”

You laughed again. “He scored a 350 on the bar exam!”

Peter’s brows shot up. “Oh shit.”

“I know! The only thing I knew about him was that he blacked out in that frat house’s pool all night and the cops were called cause someone thought he was dead.”

“Yeah, he’s super lucky he was on his back. Just floated around the pool like a leaf.”

You shook your head, screwing the cap back on the tube of cream, “Crazy. But anyway, I’m done. And on the plus side,” you grinned at him, “if you ever get in legal trouble, you know someone!”

He laughed out loud, and you watched as his face scrunched up and he clutched his side in pain. Apologizing for the joke, you gave him a kiss on the cheek to make up for it. 

“Enough about crazy Freddy,” he let out a sigh, “I’m gonna go put some clothes on, and then I wanna cuddle with my girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words and all you could do was smile as he stood up, giving you a kiss on the side of your head before he moved to pick out some clothes.

You watched him get dressed, biting your lip as you watched how his muscles rippled with each of his movements. You always knew he was strong but seeing him like that, was a completely different story. 

“Like what you see?” He asked, smirking at you before he lifted his shirt, holding it up between his teeth as he tied his sweatpants. 

Your mouth fell open. At being caught and also at…how absolutely hot he looked right now. If he wasn’t injured, you would be all. over. him. 

“S’alright angel,” he said as he stalked towards you. He was enjoying this, a lot. “I’m sure I’d be the same if the roles were reversed.”

That did not help. Now you were thinking about being naked in front of Peter and-

He laughed, kissed the side of your head again, and laid down, pulling next to him. 

“Careful Peter, you’re still hurt!” You chastised him. 

He shook his head, “You made me feel a hundred times better. Thank you, angel.”

“Of course Petey.” He smiled at you as he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight. 

“So, you came to see me right? Y’know, before the whole finding out I’m Spider-Man thing. What’s up?”

“Oh I almost forgot,” you perked up, tilting your head up so you could see his face, “I think I totally aced that chemistry exam!”

“Angel! I’m so proud of you!” He started attacking you with kisses, kissing you anywhere his lips could reach. 

You giggled, “Thank you sweetie, but seriously I owe you most of the credit, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Nonsense,” he shook his head, “that was all you. I barely helped, you learned everything and then took that quiz, and aced it.”

“Well I haven’t gotten my grade back yet, I just have a really good feeling, so don’t sound too are there's a chance I didn’t do as well as I thought.”

“Nope,” he said, popping the p. “I have a sense, a spidey sense. And my spidey sense is telling me that you totally aced that thing. No questions asked.”

You laughed loudly. “Spidey sense?”

“No questions,” he repeated as he nuzzled his nose into your hair. 

“Fine then,” you snuggled up further into him. “No questions.”

[fraugwinska]

I'm so in love with your writing!!!! If you are doing requests could you write about the first time Alastor and his darling spend the night together? Maybe they are up late listening to music and his darling suggests he stay the night. They are new to the whole relationship thing and Alastor is awkward but agrees. Could be a touch spicy but mostly just fluff. <3

I did a unique take on this, I hope you don't mind, my lovely Anon? I had the inspiration for it in a fleeting moment and just started to type, remembering your ask... And I kinda love what came out of it! :> As always, @macabr3-barbi3 was my rock and my anchor during the writing process - you have too much patience with me, love! <3

And a huge 'Thank you' to the lovely, ever-so-talented @minkdelovely for prereading this for me to find the perfect title for this story. You are both an inspiration and a delight, and I truly appreciate you, my darling!

Kissing was something Alastor had slowly gotten used to. Kissing you, that is.

You had made it easy for him, he'd give you that. Patience is a virtue rarely found in hell, but when the turning point in his friendship with you tipped the scale to the side of more amorous realms, the Radio Demon, normally superior and confident, had found himself to be exceedingly useless. The lines between companionship and partnership were drawn by his mind rather than physical barriers, and crossing them alone had been a tremendous effort for him. Alastor had never thought he'd feel anything for another sinner, hell, the bare concept of feeling was generally strange to him.

Love was something that had been intimately intertwined with the feeling he had for his mother. So pure, and so lost and unretrievable after her untimely death. To feel this similar yet completely different kind of love for you? Unimaginable, and yet, there you were. And with an unbelievable ease you slowly took root in his mind, weaving your way into his thoughts and settling in his heart without you putting in real conscious effort. Had your encounters been mostly accidental and brief at first, Alastor found himself longing to walk into you more and more before actively seeking your company. To you, he was never unwelcome, in complete contrast to the other residents of the hotel, who tended to avoid or flee from him whenever they could. Whether he would be annoyingly chatty in amusement, hurtful in cold anger or buzzing with excitement (and sometimes murderous glee) - you entertained his whims, listened intently or soothed him with a few chosen words, always finding the right ones.

You shift in his arms, your head leaning a little in to grant his hungry mouth better access to yours with a small, delicious sigh, ignoring or maybe even blissfully unaware that your lips must've caught on his teeth somewhere along the line and ripped open, thin, beautiful crimson lines slowly running down the sides of your mouth. He always said that red suited you best.

Your differences made you quite an odd sight in hell's scenery. What many could only admire with a good dose of fear was never scary to you and the fact you openly regarded the Radio Demon with polite respect and genuine endearment left quite an impression on the others - so much so that it had earned you the hushed title 'Daddy-Deer Whisperer', bestowed by the ever-so-childish Angel Dust. It was when he caught you scolding Angel for using that expression and spreading his usual slander about him with a rare display of open anger that he first felt the gentle tug in his chest that has since remained whenever you were near Alastor. At first, he had shrugged it off as another of his eccentricities, or perhaps hunger pangs he hadn't fulfilled for a while (A very likely thing given his... appetite). But it persisted whenever you looked at him with that little smile on your lips, and he knew. Knew that he had to have you, and that you would be his, in good time. He could never have imagined how easy that would turn out to be, how accommodating to his needs you were from the moment you acknowledged his advances, and were able to keep up with his admittedly glacial pace from then on. While no one dared to ridicule him to his face, the others were comfortable enough around you to tease you for having a partner that seemed so uninterested in physical attention. Well.

While they were not completely mistaken, they didn't know all there was to Alastor the demon with the eternal smile. The foreignness of what it meant to touch and love and the, he had to say it, pitiful lack in experience made Alastor hesitant for the first time in both of his lifes. How could he publicly display his affections when he could barely bring himself to show them in the confines of your company alone? Yet you never demanded anything physical from him, and he realized with a startle that you were perfectly content with just being with him. Where it had taken him weeks to consider kissing you for the first time, it took another couple or so to slowly allow his touches to drift from a brief grasp on an elbow or waist to a tighter grip, resting a hand at the small of your back, enjoying the sensation of your hip bone gently pressing into his palm, pulling you a little bit closer as your hands ran over his arms. In his embrace your arms found their natural place on his shoulders, the weight becoming familiar and calming to him. Until one day, it wasn't anymore. One day he noticed, truly recognized the feeling of you in his arms and found himself struggling not to pull you even closer. And without much thinking, his lips had been on yours, chaste almost and testing, savoring the contact and tasting you without the need to devour. And he found that with you, only you, just a taste was so much more satiating.

It was the first of many kisses shared, but to Alastor, this one held a special significance. You had been stunned, yes, but when he withdrew, overstimulated and unsure of his actions, he found neither judgment or reproach, only a silent smile and a hint of blush on your cheeks before you had returned the affection in your own, respectful way that he appreciated so much - soft pressure and warmth enveloping his hands - and a change of topic, easing him into a lighthearted conversation that had lasted hours, just to calm his nerves. Since then, Alastor has held on to these memories, his firsts with you. And there were countless - all kept near to your heart. Charlie, Angel and Niffty could pester you with any intrusive, interrogating question, you would only smile at them and repeat the same sentiment: What you see is the only thing you get to know.

"Alastor?"

"Hm?" Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and his eyes focus on your beautiful face where he sees your brows furrowed with what he learned is concern.

"Is everything okay? You seemed to be somewhere else."

Ah, you were worried. For him. As you always were, so susceptible to his needs, as if it was natural to you. Another peculiarity and yet an incredibly welcome thing for a creature like him who found himself on the receiving end of unreciprocated concern very, very rarely.

"Just a little lost in thought is all, my dear."

"We can stop you know, it's almost midnight anyway." you say softly, your hands streaking soothingly over his arm as they slowly retreat from his shoulders.

He pauses, debating if the sensation of your fingertips touching the soft skin below his buzzed undercut, coupled with a very, very warm and inviting kiss had been enough. Had it ever been? Enough? It wasn't that you ever had any expectations of what would come after, seemingly content with anything he'd allow you to have - a softly spoken praise, an elegant compliment or even just peaceful silence before he'd take his leave. And knowing this Alastor suddenly is... displeased with the idea of this moment not lasting.

His claws wrap around your hands, a gentle pull guiding them back to their rightful place, back to the nape of his neck. He enjoys the rare sight of your surprised and red-flushed face before he let his lips trail your jawline, relishing in the way your skin breaks into goosebumps under his mere breath and fleeting touch before he speaks.

"I'm not so sure about that. Being able to stop, that is."

And he's true to his words. A searing fire is lit when your lips meet his again and his body tenses as he tries and fails to restrain the feeling it coaxes within him. Alastor wants to stay this time, wants to hold this miraculous thing that loves him so undeservingly close, wants to experience the feeling of skin on skin in your pristine bed sheets as he allows himself a rare night of sleep, with your sweet sighs as his lullaby and soft body as his covers. Another first with you, to add to the collection. And while you were always willing to indulge him, he feels, in the way you were pressing into him in cautious urgency, the whine that slips beyond the restriction of your bitten lips and the tremble of your fingers that you weaved into his hair, that this is - finally - what you, maybe for the first time, selfishly crave for, too.

Patience is a virtue, yes, but after all this saintly time he'd allow the both of you the sin of greed for a night.

[scenesniper]

You are my hero 😭 as a nonbinary afab person, I feel like almost all fanfics are meant for cis women. If it’s alright, could I request sfw &/or nsfw headcanons for Aesop please? It’s totally okay if not, thank you for your posts regardless 💜

☆ aesop carl ; general sfw & nsfw headcanons

pairing / aesop carl x afab gn! reader

disclaimer / possession, jealous themes, dacryphilia, overstimulation, mutual & guided masturbation, clothed fingering, mentions of being sex obsessed

word count / 1,346 words

author's note / thank you anon, i'm honored to know that you seen with my works! i went a bit far while writing this and i'm honestly shocked as i thought i didn't write as much.

SFW

☆ aesop carl is a quiet, reserved man. he keeps to himself, something that everyone knows all too well. he’s neat and tidy, nothing is ever misplaced as long as it’s aesop carl’s belongings. visitors would visit the mortuary and the sight of aesop being in charge was considered to be a blessing in that little town, a good sign as yours or your loved one’s will would be properly passed on by his respectable hands.

☆ meeting you and getting to know you, he’s unsure on what to think of you as. you’re just an inexplicable mystery to him. in fact, there’ll probably be times where he would believe what he feels for you is loathing.

☆ if you’re quiet, he’ll still think of you as annoying albeit he’s fond to those silent. if you’re loud and chatty, he’ll want to just shut up and imagine you still and dead but then felt uncomfortable with the idea of you dead, a thought he’s unfamiliar with.

☆ he will find your presence more bearable over time but would keep to himself, only truly looking at you in the distance. he wouldn’t pursue you per se, it would start off slow, aesop believing he’s involving himself in your life with the occasional nod and a greeting regarding the time of day (which only happens little often as aesop doesn’t want to admit, he yearns for an emotional connection with you).

☆ if by a miracle, he shows a bit of himself to you, take that opportunity as fast as you can as he’s fast to hide back in his shell. aesop is a listener. if you have a lot to say, he’ll listen despite not being very interested in what people tend to say, he’ll hyperfocus on you. if you’re not much of a talker, he enjoys your silent company. he’s not very fond of small talk, he prefers long and detailed conversations with depth.

☆ aesop randomly thinking about you during his day, whether it’s when he’s doing his job or he’s out late at night with little to no energy but a mere little lunch, that’s when he knows that there is something about you that his subconscious just desires. aesop is a possessive and easily jealous man but even he, himself does not acknowledge that. he feels entitled over you.

☆ getting to date aesop carl, you will have to be very patient as he prefers having it at his pace. it’ll start off with his shoulders brushing against yours, a quick glance at your direction, discreetly holding your wrist. you seriously questioned if he even liked you.

☆ aesop is a private man and is not a big fan of intimacy or public displays of affection. he hasn’t touched many people in his life, minus the dead bodies that he has to attend to. so for that very reason, he’s highly sensitive to the touch of another.

☆ once he does get a bit more comfortable (which will still take quite some more time), he’s prone to being easily flustered by you and your actions. if you got too impatient by his advances and started to lead the relationship, he gets very flustered by avoiding your gaze and covering his mouth, inadvertently unaware that he’s wearing a face covering.

☆ kissing with aesop is like a quick dream. not that it’s heavenly, but it goes by so far you can barely register anything of it and question what it even was. at first, he’ll give you quick pecks on the lips and call it a day. as you grow closer with him, those quick pecks would turn into needy kisses for you.

☆ he needs to feel you, skin to skin. your warmth and your little quiver, memorize the shape of your lips and mold his mouth with yours. he’s an absolute messy kisser (and not that very good with it). he’ll try to reciprocate your actions if you try your best to amend his awkward kissing but it’s all for naught. aesop is a fast learner and will learn but when he wants you, no, needs you, and you’re looking at him with that beautiful look that he so loves. he’s just going to go in with no thoughts attached behind it.

NSFW

☆ aesop isn’t the kind to touch himself, really, he’s never paid attention to his physical needs. never having anything to really think about while touching himself, he found it completely dull and tiring. until you, his muse. he’ll pleasurably touch himself to thought of you inside the confines of his bedroom with only a singular candle, its’ light dying away deep in the night. the guilt questionable as he got off more to how disrespectful he felt.

☆ having sex with aesop, he sees sex as something so intimate that it should only be kept in the bedroom and the bedroom only. he will be viewing your body more of like an examination as he does with corpses, his gaze not timid. he’ll touch the areas he’s expecting reactions from you and drag his gloved finger on your body, just for you to squirm over his cold touch.

☆ he’s average in size, it’s skinny but he does know how to use it. he loves doing all sorts of positions with you, each night a new position. he wants to feel all sorts of intimacy with you in every way possible. he loves to pin your hands above your head, your wrists would over time begin to strain from the pressure he’s giving your wrists.

☆ if you wear lipstick, he loves it plastered all over his collar. he finds it so appealing. he absolutely loves tears in the bedroom and god does he have an orgasm fixation. cry for him, whine for him, beg for him. gasp his name and hold him tight by his shoulders or grip his thighs. he loves to wipe your tears. “shh darling.. you’re so good so far.”

☆ mutual and guided masturbation. he loves being enchanted by the sight of you, staring at him in such a vulnerable state. he can’t contain himself, he has to touch himself as well. he loves guided masturbation for both ways, especially you directing him where he can and where he can’t touch to those areas that needs the most attention. he loves to be in control of your autonomy in this way, hearing you beg him. it’s serene.

☆ he doesn’t like the being all sweaty and your heated bodies touching one another so most of the overstimulating is from him fingering you. he does it with his gloves, in a trance every time he sees your essence staining his clothed fingers by the end of it every night. he loves to admire your cum seeping out but quickly tries to clean it up with his fingers as he’s not a big fan of the mess.

☆ once aesop has felt and got sex on his mind, he’s going to be completely sex obsessed. he’s always thinking about you with little to no clothing, in a cute little lace lingerie. those are the thoughts that’s been keeping him going after a tiring day at work. all he can think about is him being inside you, his fingers on your body and inside that perfect spot that he knows will have your back arching every time.

☆ aftercare with aesop is him always cleaning up. there will always be a bath followed immediately after he finishes changing the sheets and wiping your body off, preferably bathing together as he feels after a physically charged act with one another, this simple act of familiarity makes it feel more like he’s living.

☆ after the bath, he will rest in bed with you either being up for a few more minutes thinking about the littlest of things and salvage the importance of this memory. he’ll lean in with a forehead kiss, for the first few moments in his life, he’s finally content with his life. “rest well, doll.”

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Could I please request Casey Novak! She’s my all time favourite baby! Maybe something like how reader is Burning with hatred when the new friend Casey starts to be too touching and affectionate. You can make it angsty or how ever you like. A bit random but I dunno I’m feeling jealous lately I need to get it out of my system before it eats at me more .

Thanks you my love! 🥰

All yours, anon! I don't write a whole lot of angst, so this was fun! (Happy ending tho because of who I am fundamentally lol). Hope you enjoy! --illdowhatiwantthanks

With the Crack of a Bat

Casey Novak x fem!reader Warnings: violent thoughts on the part of the reader (not like murderous or deeply harmful or anything, but... we're definitely wishing ill-will), some angst, very vague references to sex, innuendo (please let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.3k

Summary: There's a new girl on yours and Casey's LGBTQ+ softball team, and you do not like how cozy she's getting with your girlfriend.

You sat fuming in the dugout, waiting your turn to bat, the heel of your cleat grinding repeatedly into the dirt-caked concrete. You weren’t usually a jealous person and, in the several months you’d been dating, Casey had done nothing to suggest that she was the kind of person who’d cheat on you. In fact, she’d done quite the opposite, proving herself again and again to be loyal to a fault.

But the new girl–Eloise–she made you more insecure than you’d been since high school. She was everything you weren’t. Lithe where you were stocky. Feminine where you were rough around the edges. Suave and easy and flirtatious where you were awkward and fumbling. In short, she would have been a popular girl. She was popular on the LGBTQ+ softball team. Even just in scrimmages, like today, both sides of your split team vied for Eloise to be their pitcher. She was the best. There was no way around it.

You hated playing catcher for her. She was more of a one-woman show than a team player. She often ignored your play calls. When she pulled it off, it paid off. But you’d allowed more than one stolen base because she threw where you weren’t expecting and you missed the catch.

But today, you’d discovered something you hated even more than playing catcher for her: Casey playing first base for her. Every strikeout, every tag-team play, they were all over each other. Chatty as could be. Hugging, cheering, lingering high-fives. It made you livid. But if you’d examined your anger, you would have found that what it really made you was scared. Scared that Casey would like Eloise more than you because, let’s be honest, what’s not to like?

You swung your bat, letting your shoulders and hips get loose as you waited on deck. A tip of the ball from the batter in front of you–a grounder to Eloise, who scooped it up and tossed it wildly to Casey. It would have been an easy throw to miss, but Casey bent and stretched for it, tagging the runner out at first with only seconds to spare.

Eloise whooped and the two came together for a high-five.

“Hell yeah, Novak,” Eloise called, smacking her ass. You felt your jaws clench. “Gotta love a girl who knows how to bend.” She spoke a little too loud, a little too pointed, especially as you approached the box. She wasn’t even being sly about it anymore. It’s like Eloise was goading you, teasing you, as if she was saying without saying, I could take your girl. Easy.

You took a deep breath and focused. Focused all your rage, all your insecurity, all your desperate love for Casey that felt suddenly so very tenuous, and held it all in your twisted grip on the bat. You exhaled slowly, blood pumping loud in your ears, tensed and ready for Eloise’s pitch. And when it came–wham. You sent it flying–straight into Eloise’s left boob. The thwunk was so unbelievably satisfying, you had to wipe the smile off your face before anyone noticed. Eloise doubled over, clutching her chest, stumbling into the dirt on the pitcher’s mound. The rest of the fielders ran to her.

What you really wanted was to victoriously round the bases, but that seemed in bad taste, so you dropped your bat and walked over to the pitcher’s mound, too.

“Oh my god, Eloise,” you said, trying your best to sound sincere. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all good,” she groaned, taking Casey’s hand and grasping it as she pulled herself to her feet.

You frowned as you watched Casey support Eloise with an arm around her back. This was backfiring. This was not going the way you’d planned. Softball practice effectively dissipated as one of the girls got Eloise some water and another dumped hers to make a makeshift ice pack for her to hold on her chest.

After making sure Eloise was okay, Casey turned to you, glaring. You shrank. This was really not going as planned.

“Get your shit,” Casey said, her voice harsh and flat. “Let’s go.”

You silently gathered your things and followed her to the car, scared by her tone, scared by the fact that she didn’t take your hand on the way to the car like she always did, scared that she seemed well and truly mad–a rarity for Casey.

“Case–” you started, as you both climbed into the car and slammed the doors.

“What the fuck was that!?” she yelled, brows furrowed, face red. “The rest of the team might not know, but you and I know exactly how good your aim is with a bat. That was not an accident, Y/N.”

You were quiet, head bent, trying not to cry. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Casey shook her head. “What is your deal with her!? You’ve been acting so weird since she joined the team.”

“I’ve been acting weird!?” you shot back, surprised by your own anger. “You’ve been weird. She’s all over you, Casey. She flirts with you constantly. In front of me. And you just… let her!”

Casey looked at you with genuine shock. “What are you talking about?!”

You dashed away a few angry tears that slid down your cheeks. “She’s… she’s so fucking pretty and cool and strong and you clearly like her and I just… I don’t know. I’m sorry. It was dumb.”

“Y/N,” Casey said, her voice cooling a bit. “I like Eloise as a friend. That’s it.”

“Well,” you sniffed. “She likes you as more than a friend. And she acts like it.”

You let out a shaky breath, jumping a bit when you felt Casey’s hands on the side of your warm face. You glanced at her and saw that she was fighting off a smile, her eyebrows raised.

“You’re jealous,” she said, savoring the word, letting it linger. “Is that what this is about?”

You blushed furiously, looking pointedly at the door handle. “I’m sorry. I know it’s stupid.”

Casey sighed, then chuckled a bit, brushing her thumb against your cheekbone. “It’s kind of cute actually. But, Y/N, honey…” She turned your face so you had to look her in the eyes. “I am not flirting with Eloise. I will make it clear to her that I’m in a relationship. Maybe she just didn’t know.”

You had your doubts about this, but you decided to keep quiet about it for the time being.

Casey continued. “But unless she doesn’t respect that boundary, I still want to be friends with her. Okay? You can’t ask me to not be friends with people because you’re jealous.”

You nodded and sighed. “I know. But if she keeps flirting with you anyway?”

“If she keeps coming on to me, I will cut it off. I promise.”

You sighed, grinding your teeth.

“Baby,” Casey said, pressing her forehead to yours, both of you heady with the scents of ballpark dust and sweat and the leather of your gloves. “I can assure you I do not talk to Eloise or anyone else the way I talk to you. Or touch them the way that I touch you.”

You shuddered as she brushed her lips against yours.

“She’s not even my type,” Casey finished, her mouth mere centimeters from yours.

“And what’s your type?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

“You.” And then she kissed you. She kissed you with so much fervor, so much passion, as if she couldn’t communicate how yours she was with mere words, so she had to use her lips instead. And you knew then–just as deep down you’d always know–that Casey wasn’t flirting with anyone else. She wasn’t looking at anyone else. She certainly wasn’t doing this with anyone else. Casey was yours. And you were hers. And you’d do anything and everything to keep it that way.

[queer-lovebot]

How would jean, Andrew, or neil neil eat kevin out? I genuinely wonder how they would do it and how different it is. I imagine that andrew would be sorta lazy and mostly teasing kevin but also intense (if that makes sense). Jean would probably eat kevin out as if kevins a prize but with a time limit but probably because he never imagined that he could have this so it's years of pent of frustration released the first time they do it and kevin comes so hard and fast I bet. I really don't know how neil would do it tho. I guess it'll depend on his mood..like if he's horny then it'll be fast and intense or if he's pissed of or just wants annoy kevin then he'll sorta be andrew except less intense and more underwhelming because it frustrates kevin. Idk this just what I think, what do you think?

ANON. WOW. Analysis of the Kevin Day bedroom situation is a hobby of mine. Kevin Day getting head is smthn i hold close to my heart. Angel that he is. I’m a big fan of everyone who has the pleasure of sleeping with Kevin is somewhat reverent about it because — well, it’s Kevin Day. A prize to many. Helen of Troy to all

I agree that Andrew is super intense about it and is purposely lazy when he wants to be. Bc he knows Kevin’s body inside and out. He knows how to get Kevin off quick when it’s necessary. He ALSO likes denying Kevin things so I think the teasing is pretty accurate as well. However, Kevin can be very very convincing, and Andrew spends most of his patience on other things. If Kevin acts pretty enough then Andrew will do whatever he asks. It’s very conflicting but Andrew is so normal about it actually. He doesn’t hit the wall when Kevin bats those big wet eyes at him and asks nicely. He’s normal.

Neil takes everything as a challenge until it’s not, so I believe head with Kevin is the same. His goal is to make Kevin’s composure crack. That’s what gets him going. Taking apart Kevin in ways that most people will never ever get to. He’s smug about it. Insufferable. Chatty like you would never believe. I think that’s what annoys Kevin the most — Neil can’t shut the hell up. I like to think that Neil’s messy just because he enjoys it. It’s fun for him and he teases Kevin about it after the fact. Someone get this man a bib or something.

Jean….now I think of Jean but have not invested any time into him ever. A crime to some. I am biding my time but I keep him in my heart. That being said I think Jean is mean about it. Making up for lost time and wet dreams of Kevin he never thought he’d be able to have. He’s very experimental with it, testing just how much Kevin can take and how far past his limit can he go. I think Jean is the opposite of Andrew and Neil and instead will try to wring Kevin dry like a soaked towel. He really can’t even help himself! He just gets soooo into it and next thing he knows, Kevin is two orgasms deep and maybe can do another.

[yuttikkele]

ok so I saw that anon giving very persuasive reasons to be a zukaang shipper, and I like was writing a bunch of tags on the reblog so I just decided to make my own post 😭😭 it was way too many tags. I have a lot to say about zukaang guys.

Everything’s under the cut, but this gets very chatty very ramble-y fair warning.

anyways the part I was mostly talking about was how zukaang has a lot of what mainline ships have to offer. but like, more. and like no offense to the ships mentioned, I think they’re cool banger ships! I'm just biased towards zukaang. ofc I'm gonna think it has everything those ships have to offer and more.

though I do like these ships, there might be a little negativity towards them in this post, but I assure you, I do not mean it in any mean-spirited way.

zkka for example. I liked it a lot at first, but then I got into zukaang, and, it's just no comparison. zkka is still amazing tho it's a really silly and heartwarming ship, and sokka deserves a popular gay ship as a treat. I like them 💙❤️

but text wise?? zkka went on a two part prisonbreaking journey. zukaang spent the whole show revolving around each other with multiple key episodes exploring their dynamic. zkka can't compete with that.

and sorry to bring ztara and ktng into this as well but I gotta.

Listen, ktng is great. I think they’re really cute! Though there’s tons of discourse about which ship should’ve been canon, I think the creators made the right choice making this one canon (it was set up from the beginning, and I do think it’s the more popular ship. I think they would’ve gotten MORE backlash had they not made it canon). BUT, they’re literally middle schoolers. Of course they DO end up together, but the chances of that actually happening are off the walls! They only stayed together because of bryke, fan popularity, and what the show ended on (it would be really awkward if it ended with them getting together, and then bryke saying they broke up later. I get that. I don’t think they made a bad decision there). It’s just a liiiiiiiittle unrealistic (and I don’t wanna hear nothin bout “this is a fantasy world everything’s unrealistic.” You know what I mean go smart off somewhere else). Zuko and Aang, on the other hand, are bound by fate. They’re best friends, and they stay best friends for like, ever. Platonic soulmates, ying yang, does that not ring a bell? They’re not separating, it’s in the code. Though Katara and Aang don’t break up, I still think, realistically, it’s possible that they’d last a couple years then grow apart. Meanwhile, Aang and Zuko get closer and closer and then boom: just as much gay tension as roku and sozin. But not doomed this time.

ztara I can’t see happening based on the text. they have a lot of sweet moments from them talking about their respective moms' death (kinda sorta death) to like zuko accompanying her for "revenge" (not really revenge) to katara fighting azula with zuko. and their dynamics are cute like rivals to lovers and stuff. but, I just can’t see it. Plus, zukaang has that.

zuko’s mom was taken away from him, and aang’s father figure was threatened to be taken away from him. but it doesn’t stop there. no, shortly after these events, zuko was banished from his nation while aang fled from his. (MIRRORING CHECK DO I GET A MIRRORING CHECK???) zuko might’ve gone with katara to tie up loose ends of her past, but zuko went with aang to learn from the past for the future. and not to mention, on that journey, zuko and aang met mirroring red and blue dragons that formed a heart around them then proceeded to shroud them in rainbow flames while they learned firebending from the first firebenders not unlike oma and shu who were lovers from opposing sides of a war. (DO I HEAR SYMBOLISM AND STORY COMPARISON???) and zuko? he said “it’s my destiny for me to help the avatar.” and he DID. Yeah fighting azula was a culminating moment of his character arc and was imperative to taking down the imperial fire nation, but do you think zuko would just go attack his sister if she wasn’t a threat to Aang and peace? No, he would not. And you may be saying “uh yeah you said ‘and peace,’ zuko’s doing this because he believes it’s the right thing, and to take down his corrupt family, and for peace, not Aang.” BUT DO YOU SEE IT. AANG AND PEACE ARE LIKE SYNONYMS TO ZUKO. THEY COINCIDE. THEY’RE THE SAME THING. And in that Azula fight Zuko was given a MIRRORING scar with Aang. Aang’s back scar and his chest scar. (DO I HEAR DEVOTION???)

also headcanon-wise, I just really think Zuko is gay, so the ztara thing also kinda falls apart at that for me. Zuko just doesn’t?? Treat women very well??? Sorry, it IS kinda true tho. For so much of his life being spent with his main friends being only girls, he does not treat the women he dates very well. He actually treats Katara the best out of the girls he interacted with in my opinion even though he totally crushed her trust first try. (Some ships are about to get stray shots here while I explain this so sorry 🙏🙏)

Alright now here’s Zuko just not being the best with girls in general with romantic and platonic relationships. Not saying he hasn’t had his good moments, but, if I knew him irl I’d be trashing him for how he treats girls. Him and Mai always had continual problems on both ends. Zuko never really seemed interested in her genuinely, but on top of me just not really feeling the chemistry, Zuko was unhealthily distrusting and jealous of her like an object, he broke up with her through a note, and she risked her life for him and he didn’t even think about busting her out of jail. he really didn’t think about Mai much at all when he was with team avatar, and when he did, it was usually with weariness. he never really seemed upset that he was away from her. Now there was the “that’s rough buddy” conversation, but that’s when Zuko said “oh yeah leaving the Fire Nation was EASY” to which Sokka brought up leaving behind loved ones and Zuko went “Oh yeah, I had a girlfriend. Bummer I had to leave her to go FOLLOW THE AVATAR. AGAIN.” I was never convinced either of them actually liked each other romantically. The best thing I can say about their relationship is that Mai didn’t want Zuko to die, and the hardest part about Zuko’s easy decision to leave the fire nation was leaving Mai. For Katara, obviously, he severed things with her pretty early on, but was able to regain her trust so kudos to him. I guess he and Suki’s minimal interactions were positive I don’t really remember them sorry. Zuko DIABOLICALLY denied Toph her field trip. And Jin from Ba Sing Sei. j1nko is actually the Zuko het ship I like the most and that’s just cause I think they’re cute, and also this is like one of the times Zuko does something romantic that the girl actually likes. And he just never saw her again. Like I understand he was in a bit of a complex situation, but he could’ve gone to visit her or give condolences once everything settled down?? imagine you go on a date with this guy and the next day he’s ghosted you so hard he’s not even in the same city anymore? Jin was probably so heartbroken and then she sees HE’S THE FIRE LORD?? Nah I’d be so mad. Zuko has issues with girls. Men tho? I don’t see this problem arising. He just really reads as a gay dude to me.

Switching topics abruptly here, angsty zukaang has its place, but me personally, zukaang is not one of my angsty ships 😭😭 they worked so hard to be together y’all let them have it. There’s multiple solutions to the kid problem in my opinion, some more ideal than others but yknow. they could find out they loved each other after they already had kids and got a divorce? They could get surrogate mothers? They could say “screw you” to having to have bio kids and just adopt (and probably not announce it publicly cause how would the people know? Just keep them believing.). My personal favorite, they could avatar magic it and bring in some storks ectobiology and poof! magic bio baby they’re both blood related to. Hey, crazier things have happened. And zukkang has made a world where they can both be together and it’s beautiful and lovely and sweet ❤️🧡

and like, I don’t think it’s an all-out solution to the ship war. I think zutaraang is the all-out solution to the ship war. BUT, zukaang is a solution. It’s that one Thomas Sanders Prince vine where he goes “you’ll never have her! because I want you…”

uhhh anyways thank for comin to my tedtalk ramble about zukaang. Enjoy the rest of your day, and God loves you :DD

[sgiandubh]

Cut the (Ghenea) crap

I have been anticipating since at least last Friday the very recent rumor overdrive about S and Mrs. Mădălina Ghenea, Romanian Horizontal Extraordinaire and I howled like a pack of hyenas in the dull silence of my flat.

Of all the rumors featuring S and divers representatives of the International Fitness Harem, this one stroke me as the most ridiculous ever. Downright scraping the bottom of the barrel, here, to be honest.

Now, as all of you know, I happen to be Romanian and if anything, you should at least grant me the benefit of a flawless knowledge of the terrain, so to speak. And as far as erotically ambitious Romanian chicks go, let's just say I am a sweet summer child, compared to this one.

Mădălina hails from Slatina, a small town in Oltenia, one of the most fascinating parts of the Romanian Southwest (I have a good quarter pint of Oltenian blood myself, so I think I know what the hell I am talking about: quick-witted, ambitious people, with a devastating, sarcastic sense of humor). She comes from virtually nothing: a working-class family of former farmers drawn to the nearest town by the quick and demented industrialization of the country during the Sixties, which is to say, the Lumpenproletariat our German friends can immediately relate to. But when you spend your childhood in the dull and poor anonymity of a non-descript block of flats (matchbox upon matchbox upon matchbox - think of it as a dignified favela of sorts), the only thing you want to do is to get the damn out of there, at all costs. Which, I have to say, she brilliantly and ruthlessly managed to, almost in record time. Granted, she is beautiful (to me, she is very cliché, but for any foreign male she is a Wanton Goddess of Sex, I suppose) and she does have the street smarts to safely get her through any urban jungle of this planet, too.

You can peruse her war credentials here, for a quick overview of the character, if you really, really, really need to: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/M%C4%83d%C4%83lina_Diana_Ghenea.

I will just add (and you will have to trust me on this one), a couple of things:

Cynically speaking, she could be a decently plausible beard for S. After all, she did beard for di Caprio (an info I just corroborated over the phone with a friend who is a cinema & TV journalist, back home). Problem is, a woman like this is way over budget. I am afraid The Boy doesn't qualify, bless his heart: too meh for her eclectic, but high-end tastes (local cardboard millionaires, Bulgarian tennis players of the light mafioso type, Philipp Plein, Italian TV beaux and yup, Gerard Butler - but it did not end amicably, enough said). You have to understand that woman saw it all and she won't settle for a pap walk in the pishing drizzle of GLA, or even NY. This one knows perfectly well diamonds are a girl's best friend. And if you doubt me, maybe you won't doubt her, when she declared three days ago for the Daily Fail something along these lines:

[source, LOL: https://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-12681539/EDEN-CONFIDENTIAL-Sexiest-woman-world-Madalina-Ghenea-yearns-real-man-stealing-hearts-Leonardo-DiCaprio-Gerard-Butler-Michael-Fassbender.html]

Read my lips: not going to happen. Not in a million years, not even for the sake of the fucking Narrative. Not even on a desert island. Never. Nuh-oh. No way.

At any rate, if God knows what sick plot twist happens, you'll learn it here first, probably: the Romanian gossip press would put to shame poor Deux Moi, with its needlessly chatty, exuberant, salaciously detailed style.

So I will say again here what I did say in a comment to an Anon who brought it up first @bat-cat-reader's :

TERMINAȚI CU TÂMPENIILE. Which is simply translated as CUT THE CRAP.

Of course.

[ughgoaway]

Aww thabk you so much!! I am so happy the first date went so well!

We would probably meet again in 2 weeks or so 'cause she went to her town to see family, but has already asked me out for that so im so excited 😋

And yeah dating girls is the best for sure, im so happy im finally comfortable to date girls 🥹🥹

omg she already asked you out again??? That's so great!! im sure it's gonna go just as good as this date eeee!!!!!

I'm so happy for you omg!! I've never had a gf, but I love girls. they are just... MWUAH. being comfortable to date them is so so cool, ik im just an Internet stranger, but I am proud of you <3333

[silveredsound]

How you go from harry styles to hockey I will never understand.

I was going to make a little joke, as I do, (would have been v hilarious, best joke ever pls know this) and leave it at that. But like, it's been raining for over 24 hours, it's 2am and it might be good for me to reflect a little.. So sorry anon I am going emote all over your ask (which (the ask) sounds a bit judgey tbh but the written word is NOT a great conveyor of tone so that might be on me.)

On one hand it's just fandom. And, I think it's been pretty clear that as much as I love Henry Stars, I'm not like, a 'Harry is the be all and end all of all music creation and creativity and actions.' I like him for the good and the bad, and I don't leave critical thinking at the door. (Not saying I'm the only person to do this, just that it's hard sometimes in fan spaces and Stans definitely do..)

Which, can make it hard to participate in fandom as a lot of people are not great at irony, or accepting that someone else can say, god damn that is a terrible song - and that it's okay for that to happen. It doesn't mean that the person who expressed the neg opinion is not still a fan of the artist they were speaking about. Same with if the artist you are a fan of does something that gives you the ick.

I def learnt this when Harry went to Google Camp the first time. Like obviously I've been around 1d fandom in some way since 2012 ish I think it was - and it was my own reaction to Harry going to Camp Douchebags the first time that made me go, oh jeez Silv, you are a bit too involved in the parasocial relationship here. Like I was genuinely upset that he'd done something I thought was so dumb and wanky.

Anyway, clearly I still loved - love - him and I celebrated him and spent a fuckload of money on him and engaged in fandom and etc etc. But I just did at that point I think turn a little from heading in a very blinkers on version of fandom to one that's def more me - where you just get to have fun, make fun be creative, make friends! and have a bit of a perv depending on the silk cream vanilla ice cream outfit Harry might be wearing in Nashville.

I like RPF. I mean I like all transformative works and fandom extending and enhancing source material via creation, but I don't have an issue with RPF. I believe in 4th wall. And I clearly have written 1d fic. A lot of my good fandom mates, and real life best friend(s) are people I have met through sharing a love of writing in fandom spaces. Obviously all the best writers in 1d went to Hockey. And I stayed here. And I tried. I wanted to be where my friends where. I had fomo and I was lonely! My fandom had changed in a few ways all around the same time.

But Hockey is very confusing, (for starters as I often say to Angela or Joanna, snow is fake) and nothing clicked for me - it seemed large and I had no idea where to even start and I didn't really try.

But I think the change in some fandom fellow participants, and also anons being mean when they would get even a glimpse in their peripheral that I might have vaguely indicated that Henry did something that I thought was dumb or embarrassing, or just not that good, (it's no fun sharing a thought and feeling chatty about it, and wanting to engage with other people's thoughts if some random is going to anonymously tell you that you are a dumb c*nt and should delete etc etc so I stopped sharing any thoughts at all.) Of course Nick leaving breakfast and then R1 altogether - as well as obviously my whole life narrowing to a point that was just tend Mama- work - tend mama - work - tend mama - sleep - grow a tumour - tend mama left me not so much time for proper joyful engagement.

And then, in Jan/Feb this year, I think as I'd been looking at book reviews and as soon as you search for a book on tik tok they push book tok romance reviews into your feed and I think then that pushed an actual hockey clip (which is a really shite 4th wall issue as is the whole Kraken thing etc) and I can't even remember what it was but I know I then swiped through and watched other videos on the account and like 1d being adorable shites repeating stock answers and sitting on top of each other I was intrigued by what seemed to be very dumb and very entertaining.

But Silv, you cry, what about the emotions! You need emotions! Ah, yes, see, because I am nothing but devoted I had followed Angela and La's hockey blogs, and something La posted grabbed my attention and I followed a link and read an article and I was like. Oh, I want to read more about these kids. So I did. And after a little while I reached out to La and was like, um, I think I get it. And I posted something about the Fantilli Bros and then Max reached out and tbh I don't think anything says it better than my wide eyed enthusiasm reply. (You are probably by now thinking, Silv why is your answer to Max so short, why didn't I just get a paragraph? This is an endless essay with no conclusion or indeed a thesis statement, (that is if you have even made it down to here) & anon I can only apologise.)

I am really enjoying learning so many new things, being welcomed into a new space of connection and joy and silliness and emotional breakdowns. It's been so lovely to meet new people who are so excited to share their niche interest with you and no one minds how many questions I have and everyone searches out Primera and Important Past Instagram Posts from the archives - and of course reconnecting with people who I have always been friends with, fandom changes didn't change that, but it's delightful chatting much more often. The other day Angela and I watched an Avs game together via Tumblr chats, which was delightful, to learn about the team and to talk about random other things, and I've spent my last month of Saturdays watching umich with lovely people who La introduced me to, and having MANY EMOTIONS. (It's like hanging out all posting about a show's fits and one liners and if he's going to sing medicine but it's many pantomime gooseberrys. The performative homoeroticisim, wild hair, jokes, punching (only now during not pre show work outs ) and very goddamn impressive skill and physicality is actually pretty similar). Meghan and I have been able to chat through our very similar horrible experiences with cancer and mums with cancer and it's been so lovely and strengthening to be able to share that experience with a person who beyond gets it, and then also I've been able to announce to her that I want to write a fic about 5 ways Nolan saw god with the UMich Bible Study Group but didn't find faith. which is obviously a completely ridiculous concept but equally worthy of discussion. It's this that I love so much about fandom friendship - you share SO much because you are sharing something that gives you intimate joy, so the relationship always starts from a place of an automatic mutual understanding and empathy - and from there we make it our own.

But also, I really like the game. Like I love watching them play, all of them! It's fast (obviously - and oblig have to say - ice is slippery) and it's hard - and they make it look easy. When one of the special players (they are all special, but one of the ones who play almost with innate ability) makes a pass or a turn sometimes it's almost almost magic, like how the fuck did they see that gap between four players, and did you see how they kept the puck a moment longer so they could release it perfectly into the lane !! Hot.

The game can be all encompassing and it's SO SO SO silly. Like it's the dumbest sport. It's The Show. I'll put on ESPN and stream a match while I'm working during the day (the time difference is perfect for once) and I'm spending time cos I want to, learning the rules and the logistics and business side of it all. And of course, the differences between college hockey and the show. Idk. It just clicked on so many levels for me.

And so, I have no idea why it took me so long to transition from Henry to Hockey, but I am not surprised I did now that I have - it def wasn't something that I was bloody expecting. And Anon I will say this, the last few years of my life have been sad, hard, and tbh shitty. Now, I know what it's like to have fucked years, so I am not saying this to try to be and show off but 2024 feels a bit better. I feel clearer, I have started to lose some weight (15ish kg so far depending on the time of the month) and now I have a meeting w a PT on Tuesday as I actually don't care what I weigh but I want to get stronger and reduce my visceral fat as it will be better for hormones which is better for lessening my cancer reoccurrence %.

God knows it's (2024) not all roses, I literally had surgery again a fortnight ago and the cost of living in Sydney is giving me so much anxiety. I am still a terribly disorganised mess, my work is undergoing a complete restructure (thanks NSW gmnt) and my clean washing is NEVER folded and put away, it's always in the basket - but I feel so happy and entertained and creative - I am writing again! like it's joy. It's ye olde you are who you are at this moment but you are also the 4 year old you and the 15, 27, 34 year old you - girlhood (non gendered concept of not literal interpretation) and I love it. 💛🩵🌱

[littledollll]

You’re so kind honestly I can’t wait to read part two.

What I keep thinking about since reading is:

Lucifer keeps his little a secret not wanting to out them about it. However not all the demons are so pleased about an angel running around that they can’t torture. One of them manage to upset the angel somehow and his angel slips into little space as a coping mechanism. Lucifer is then torn between comforting his little and caring for them in their state and punishing the demon who upset their angel. ~shy anon

Sweet little angel

(Pt. 2 to “Little angel”)

Lucifer Morningstar x little!angel!reader

Warnings: angsty but with comfort, description of violence, threats, Very very small reader, non/semi-verbal reader, crying, anxiety, very angry Lucifer, and very soft Lucifer with Reader

A/n: GAH I LOVE THIS SM thank you shy anon for giving me writing inspo, I need more little r with Lucifer in my life I’m so happy rn stop

Having Lucifer as your partner, and caregiver was better than anything you could’ve ever imagined. Things only got better since the day they found out about your regression, they confessed how happy it made them, how it would wipe away all their worries when they took care of you. You were precious to them in so many ways, but as much as they’d love to show you off to the whole realm they knew what came with being an angel in hell.

Despite their warnings you refused to be always locked up in the castle, so they complied with joining you on walks around the realm and visiting different places they’ve mentioned before to you. Nobody would dare approach you as you walked along side their ruler. You’d get harsh looks and the ocasional snarl or growl your way, which Lucifer would quickly punish with a simple wave of their hand the demon would be out of sight, to where you didn’t want nor need to know.

You wanted so badly to be able to walk those paths alone once, not because you didn’t enjoy Lucifer’s company but just because you wanted that sense of independence, like you didn’t need to always be protected. You requested to start going on walks with lower ranks, at first the demons were cautious, careful of the fact Lucifer could just be around the corner, the same attitude as always continued those days, they’d lose a hand by Mazikeen’s command.

They got brave after that. With the rare times you’d leave without Lucifer they knew only Mazikeen was there to look after you, they started getting chatty. “God gave them the runt of the litter” said a demon as you passed by, you ignored them. “we’ll get you alone some day” this one seemed to follow behind you. “You’ll regret ever stepping foot out of that castle, can’t go out without a guard, what? are you too weak?” And finally. “What is an angel if not a chew toy for us to tear apart.” The way that demon didn’t even see you as a being, how he was just waiting. Anxiously anticipating the day they’d finally get you. A chew toy he said.

You wanted to cry. You wanted to run into Lucifer’s arms and feel safe again. You grabbed Mazikeens wrist, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried so hard not to breakdown, you could feel yourself slipping. “I wana go home..” Mazikeen was the only one who knew, being Lucifer’s right hand meant trust and undying loyalty. She swore to keep you safe the second Lucifer confessed how they felt for you, and she swore to keep your secret the minute you confided in her enough to tell her. Lucifer would put their life in Mazikeens hands, that was enough said, you could trust her aswell.

She proved herself when in a matter of seconds you were safely back home, in your room and sat on your bed, while she busied herself with summoning Lucifer to you. You made no effort to move from your bed as you hugged one of your stuffies tightly and just cried. What was taking them so long?

Lucifer was explained everything once they met with Mazikeen, they were torn, that demon deserved to be punished, by their own hand, the demon would learn a whole new meaning of pain, they’d do it publicly, Lucifer decided, the demon would be used as an example to show what happens to those who even attempt to hurt you. Then be sent to eternal suffering, purgatory, for so much as looking at you wrong.

Lucifer heard your cries, and then their mind was made up, the demon would be taken care of later. For now, they had a much more important little one to focus on. Lucifer never liked to see you cry, sometimes you’d just be pouty or fussy, that happens to every little, but knowing it was caused by one of their subjects filled them with wrath, wrath that had to be pushed down for now. It wasn’t more important than you, and they couldn’t risk scaring you.

You practically jumped into their arms, stuffie in hand, the second they walked through that door. “My sweet angel.. what have they done to you.” You just cried more. “Thank you Mazikeen, we will discuss this later, you are dismissed.” Mazikeen only nodded and left. Lucifer made their way back to bed, arms wrapped around you tight as their hand soothed your back. Sure you’ve cried before but never had they seen you so distraught, and also, so small. You couldn’t get a word out as your cries were replaced with sniffles and you clung to them like your life depended on it.

Truly, Lucifer was at a loss, you’ve never regressed so small before, and nothing like this had ever happened, if you were big they’d openly admit the demon was going to be punished, but saying that to you right now would do no good. So they settled for comforting you, they let you cling to them and cry until all that could be heard was your struggled breathing and sniffling, then they held you even tighter. After a few minutes of silence they concluded they should probably say something, anything really, an apology was the first thing to leave their mouth.

“I’m sorry, my sweet little angel. I’m so sorry.” They took a deep breath hugging you close to their chest. Sure they were angry, but they were mostly heartbroken, to think their home, what was supposed to be your home as well caused you so much harm. Maybe it was just words this time, but what would happen if you were alone, or if more than one demon decided to target you, or you slipped before you could get away?

Their mind ran rampant before your small voice and hand over their heart brought them back. “fast.” you stated as a fact. You do that a lot when you’re small, they always found it so adorable. Lucifer only nodded. “Are you alright, tiny?” You shook your head burying it into their chest again. “Tiny hurts” yeah. Heartbroken was the word of the day. “Luci’s going to make sure that demon isn’t mean again okay? I won’t let you get hurt, tiny.” You held up your pinky looking up with teary eyes. This time they immediately laced their own with yours and kissed your hand.

“I pinky promise, my little love, nobody’s going to hurt you again.” your breathing was mostly getting back to normal and your sniffles stopped, you nodded and shuffled up. “What’s wrong, tiny?” You gently grabbed their face and gave them a little smile. You let out a little “Mwah!” as you have them a kiss on the forehead and handed them your stuffie. “Well thank you, little one, what’s that for?” They said as they hugged the stuffed animal close. You placed your hand back on their heart. “luci hurts” Lucifer sighed, a smile on their face as they replied. “Well I’m all cured now, thanks to you. What did I ever do to deserve such a sweet little angel?”

[clonehub]

this year it'll be the three year anniversary of the start of the #UnwhitewashTBB movement. it still exists. Part of the reason why it's not active is because TBB itself isn't active. Another reason is that I had to go on a break/hiatus with managing it for the sake of my own mental health. The endless harassment, stalking, and gaslighting was making me paranoid and had a noticeable negative impact on my physical health lol.

also, simply, life! I've grown distant from star wars due to a lack of interest with the new stuff they're putting out. I haven't felt that click in ages, and I was never a fan of repeating myself until I'm blue in the face, hence why I don't make as many posts about uwwtbb as I used to. What needs to be said has been said. I've seen every corner of pushback possible. It's going on three years and I'm immobile in my views.

Wish I could say I'm here today totally unscathed. You'll notice I rarely if ever engage with the fandom. Maybe you've seen how snappy I get/easily annoyed I am. Blame the bullshit with uwwtbb dissenters! People who've been here since 2017 when I first made this blog will remember how perky and outgoing and chatty I used to be.

(It's still possible. yes anon's been off the better part of....well probably more than a year at this point akjshdflksjdf but if I ever get around to drawing my OCs with regularly. well. i'll talk then!)

maybe now that I feel there's a "safe" distance between then and now, I'll start talking about it more again. Maybe now that I've blocked a huge number of dissenters (a lot of whom are basically inactive now, notice) I'll talk about the more specific problems that I faced having a stalker(s) and waking up to sexual harassment on a near-regular basis.

[rachi-roo]

Hii! I saw your requests open and I wanted to ask could you perhaps write some tickle headcanons for Vash from Trigun? Any version is fine, I just need more tickle content of that silly lil guy--

(Love your blog btw! <3)

-------------{ ☆°•○•°☆ }--------------

Trigun: Vash - Tickle Head Canons!

YES! YES! THANK YOU! I've wanted to write about this goobie woobie for so long! I've actually had some HCs written up for ages but never found silly Trigun fans to share them with! 😭 Bless your little socks anon!! Thank you for the opportunity to go HDBDIAOWKDBAI over my Vashy-Washy! XD Love you dust bunny!!!

--------------------☆ ☆------------------------

Lee:

Being inhuman has its perks. Not many but a few. Immortality is pretty cool. But in Vashs case, hanging out with the humans has brought upon a strange, problem, when it comes to physical touch.

At first, Vash had never heard of tickling or being ticklish. Why would he when everyone has only ever wanted to kill him? Until he met Meryl and Millie. One drunken party had led to a cuddle pile where the two females decided to attack the defenceless male, leading to the discovery. He is, in fact, very ticklish.

He is ticklish absolutely everywhere. Luckily, his huge coat and armour protect him most of the time. You'll have to catch him out of uniform to make him squeal.

Saying catch isn't really right, though. He loves being tickled and won't try to avoid an attack if he sees it coming. Like an obedient pup, he'll lay there and take it. Despite his wriggling, he does his best not to get away or stop those scribbling fingers.

His laugh is wonderful. Bright, loud, full of life. And he's very chatty whilst being wrecked. Being his usual goofy self, he'll say the most random things between his laughter.

"H-Hehey! Ahaha! Gohod I could reheheally go for a snAHAHACK rigihight now! Aha! Hah... Aww, why you stop?"

Brat. Brat. Bratty brat brat. Big playful goob. If he wants tickles, he'll follow you around all day until he gets them. Even if it means tickling you first to get a response, he'll do it. He'll poke you. Scare you. Steal a snack. Even throw some playful cheesy flirting your way.

His favourite are reward tickles.

"Didn't I do a good job taking care of those bandits? Come oooon, you know what to do~" He'd say, sprawling happily over your lap.

Praise him. Tell him how cute he is. It's the only time you might be able to fluster him instead of the other way round. If you manage to accomplish this, he'll cover his ears, trying to hide how red they go.

Drunk Vash tickles? Yes. His gangly limbs are so uncoordinated that he'll just flop around like a wet noodle. Hiccuping and snorting happily. Wolfwood takes full advantage of this as he's usually on the receiving end of tickles~

His most sensitive areas are his knees, ribs, and underarms. He also loves it when you tickle his palm. Having only one real hand means the one he's got needs extra love. The teddybear song is a personal favourite of his. Since he's a big kid, really.

Basically, he loves being tickled. Any time. Any place. For any reason. Laughter is so important to him. How could he not crave the sensation?

Ler:

Run. Just run. This man is a menace. Ever heard of the tickle monster? This guy gives him nightmares. In the best possible way.

For whatever reason, you look down in the dumps, or maybe you just committed the unspeakable SIN of eating his last doughnut. Vash is gonna getcha~

He'll chase you round all day, laughing with you as he puts on his 'villain' voice, cooing and teasing as he makes grabby hands at you as you try to flee.

"I'm gonna getcha~!"

"Mwahaha! You think you can escape the claws of Vash the humanoid Typhoon!? Nae! You will suffer at my hand, Mortaaaal!"

"Wow, you're quick! What's got you so frantic, I wonder? Haha!"

Once he catches you, it's over. He'll use his mechanic arm to hold your wrists, allowing his free hand to do the work.

He's a skitterer. Spider fingers are his favourites since they make his victims giggle the most. Changing spots every couple of seconds to keep you wriggling.

The sharpshooter had also invented his own adorable little game! He calls it 'Don't shoot'.

The ler surprises the Lee, aiming finger guns at them and calling 'Hands up!' The Lee has to respond quick as they can with 'Don't shoot!' Whilst throwing theirs hands up. If they're quick enough, the ler, Vash, approaches with his finger guns, circling and teasing the victim with anticipation. Faking a prod or two. The victim has to not flinch or giggle or they get 'shot' or rather, bombarded with tickly pokes.

Vash, being Vash, always makes the sound effects as he's poking you. "Pew! Pew! Pew! Should have stayed still, bandit!" He also loves being on the receiving end of this game, always losing, curling up as soon as those fingers get too close.

He's so gentle as a ler. Teasy and bubbly as always. He'll pull you into a hug, wriggling his fingers into your sides, blowing raspberries on your neck. He's a big guy, holding you still isn't difficult.

"Ah, Mon précieux, what a lovely singing voice you posesse~"

"A snort!? For me!? Oh my gosh, do it again!"

"Huh? Don't say tickle? Why shouldn't I say tickle? Is tickle a bad word? Is ticklish a bad word, too? What about tickled? Oh gosh, I'm saying all these awful tickly words! Oh well, I've sinned now, might as well go all out~ Tickle, tickle, tickle!"

Once he's tired you out, he'll hold you close to him, chuckling quietly at how flustered you are as he pets your hair. He'll share a doughnut if he feels he's been particularly mean~ Lucky you!

Vash, Vash, Vash. What a goobie woobie he is. My beloved sunflower 🥹 Making this a world build upon love and peace!!! 🤞 Marry me FUCK SAKE! XD

100% Switch!

---------------------☆ ☆-----------------------

[muppetears-stuff]

Warren hate has always been ableist in the very beginning. He gets too much shit for not understanding Max's body language. He gets a lot of hate 'for not taking a hint' or understanding social cues. Hell in the very beginning of the fandom like in 2015 i think i remember there were angry pricefielders calling Warren the literal r slur because he's 'so stupid'. Their words not mine. l I've seen people talk about how they're convinced he's a s*ciopath or a n*rcissist or a ps*chopath which I find ableist and uncomfortable. I think the biggest red flag from the fandom is how there's a lot of shit talk about Warren is an 'obsessive freak/stalker' in their eyes to talking in general about how 'obsessiveness' and 'obsessions' are red flags and are signs of 'evil' apparently and not symptoms of mental illness or neurodivergency apparently. I really relate to Warren and I also suffer from obsessive and actual intrusive thoughts, so i find this fandom to be extremely cruel and alienating toward people with stigmatizing illnesses which I find explains the Chloe demonization bc she is so BPD coded. I don't think Warren is autistic coded like Max but I do think he's ADHD / OCD coded in a way I can't explain. Sorry to drop this really long rant in your inbox, but you're not wrong about the Warren demonization and I just wanted to say something about it. Becauze the demonization of all these characters go back to ableism and the Life Is Strange fandom is the most ableist fandom I've ever been in at all and that really speaks volume about how atrocious it is.

THIS ^^^ YES. FUCKING YES, ABSOLUTELY.

I find the Warren hate unwarranted (hehe) and SUPER FUCKING ABLEIST. you make amazing points, thank you for putting my thoughts into words anon🙏🙏

He very much struggles with social interactions, very evident by the way he only talks teachers or people that are into the same stuff as him, he can become very chatty, sometimes too much, when it comes to things he likes which comes off as "annoying" and "obsessive" when he just wants friends.

Mr. Well's talks about it in his student file, btw.

I share. Alot of the same traits as Warren, with myself also having ADHD and liking science and talking excessively to the point where I find MYSELF annoying.

It's so upsetting too that the developers leaned INTO the stalker/obsessive Warren allegations that I can't even fucking talk about him or mentioning that I like him on certain platforms without the fear of people saying I "support stalking" which I don't. I can't defend him and say that he wasn't stalking without someone going, "but it's canon, the developers confirmed it!!" Yeah well, Mark and Nathan have done some more fucked up shit and I still see people defend them. (I love Nathan too for his complexity and ability to become better. He just needed help, but it doesn't excuse anything he did.)

Warren is the best character. He had so much potential to be an amazing recurring character, but he was their simply for plot convenience or to make the player not suspicious that Mark could be behind everything because Warren was "creepy"

I'm probably gonna have people saying I'm being a baby over this and that he's a fictional character and stuff, you can totally have your own opinion on Warren Graham, I'm not telling you you can't, just please stop calling people who like him "stalkers" or say they support stalking and creepy behavior, when that isn't true. The amount of hate towards anyone that isn't Max or Chloe, and then the immediate hate on YOU for not liking them or liking/defending another character makes me sick, as well as the flat out abelism. The reason why I left the fandom in the first place before picking it back up because of Warren<3

Thank you again, Anon. For sending me such a lovely ask(?) And letting me rant about him because he's my favorite, and I agree with you so much, you're so right<3