#thank you for asking i greatly enjoyed rambling on about my babies!

[childotkw]

i'd also like a top ten list but of your own characters :D I am still intrigued about your original stories and I'd like to know how you rank them and why

Oh god I don’t know if I can contain this to just ten, I’ve had a lot more OG stories crop up over the years that I haven’t spoken about on here 😂 why don’t I do top 3-5 for each?

Aasdfsdgfsdfklgjsd this is so long I'm so sorry 😂😂😂😂

Storm Son Series

Tristan - he is my boy! My son! So earnest, and he wants to be a good ruler to make his mother proud while protecting his friends. He can be reckless and headstrong, but is a natural leader and charismatic. Still young enough to believe in the good of others, a bit naïve and idealistic, but it's endearing. Comes up with crazy plans on the fly, and loves Alden and Sena so much he's ridiculous.

Alden - he’s just…so cool to me. Perpetually responsible, to the point of being obsessive when carrying out his duties. He seems reckless, but he knows his own capabilities so well that any risks he takes are actually calculated down to the finest detail. He is the one that enables Tristan’s crazy plans. He’s got ~hidden trauma~, but loves Tristan and Sena enough to let them in.

Sena - she's very Angry but she’s got Reasons for it. An outcast, she just wants to find her place in the world, and have a family with someone that genuinely loves and respects her. She’s not human, and is insanely strong, to the point where yeeting Alden at an enemy is a move they hone and use regularly. She loves Alden and Tristan and would die to protect them.

Lucas - the cool suave mentor figure. Massive DILF energy. Alden is his protege and thinks he is “all the best parts” of Lucas. Pseudo-father-son relationship on full blast. Lucas has done some bad shit in his past though, and it makes other, older characters very wary and distrusting of him.

Rosen - main villain. He’s clever and dangerous, and can come across as a madman but he’s actually fully in control at all times and that makes it way worse. Calculative and manipulative, he’s all-in in his plots and confident that he can win. Mildly obsessed with Alden because of his undisclosed past with Lucas.

Undertow

Cassius - if trauma had an associated image it would be his face. This man desperately needs a break. A child soldier, he struggles emotionally to connect with others whenever he tries, and has a lot of identity issues. He loves his twin brother, and though he does a lot of horrible stuff, he's equally messed up by it. He's my punching bag and is a water mage.

Darian - Cassius' twin and number one protector. Can, has and will throw hands to keep his brother safe. Darian is a lot more carefree and emotionally stable, but he also hides a very dark streak. He enjoys fighting, revels in violence and is borderline psychotic with only Cassius existing in his sphere of loved ones. He's a fire mage, and terrifyingly suited to his element.

Cenli - the head of the institute that trains the mages. She's cold and political, using others for her own gain without hesitation. She only wants to protect the institute. Does play a somewhat maternal role for Cassius and Darian but it's a very complex relationship.

Kalim (might be renamed) - high ranking bad dude that's obsessed with Cassius because he saw him do A Grisly Murder once and it tickled his fancy. He's playing 4D chess against everyone and is very hard to predict. Pretty much everyone hates when he's around because they all know he's up to something but they can never prove it.

Trials of Edos

Eli - probably the sweetest all-around character I’d ever write. He’s young, like fourteen, and very much a Classic Hero that wants to save everyone even at cost to himself. Selfless and kind to balance out the absolute magical power he’s packing. Kid could destroy the sun but he won’t because he’s a Good Boy. Needs supervision though because he attracts trouble.

Ariella - a thief with an honour code that means she can’t let Eli throw himself at the Big Bad alone. She gets caught up in the plot and just never leaves. Very confident, very switched-on, very competent. She finds Cayden adorable because he’s trying to be chivalrous and respectful. She enjoys pushing his buttons.

Cayden - a knight from an extinct order that swears loyalty to Eli after he saves him. He’s just a good guy, bit out of touch but genuine. Ariella both terrifies and fascinates him, and they work well together. He’s got a lot of guilt and trauma though, which springs up at the oddest times and makes his friends very protective of him.

Gods and monsters (not officially named)

Ira - disgruntled immortal wizard (think 5000+ years) that is forever in service of the royal family. He’s got Tired Dad energy when interacting with Elana but everyone else just gets a glare. He’s insanely powerful, has a long, long history and Knows A Lot Of Shit because he’s been around for it all. Very Angry at the Gods for Very Valid Reasons.

Elana - Princess-turned-Queen after her father’s death. She’s twelve/thirteen, very inexperienced and has been ‘given’ Ira as her key advisor, but she has no idea who or what he is. Very quickly bonds with him as a father-figure, and wants to uncover all of his secrets. She’s inquisitive and clever but painfully young, and still believes in goodness and fairness and daydreams.

Constance - Elana’s grandmother, former Queen. She’s old and not always aware of what’s happening around her, but she and Ira have a past because he was her key advisor when she was Queen. She’s very respected by her people, but had a vicious streak not many know about.

Ziris - the god of fortune / misfortune. Very young, only about 800 years old. He’s a troublemaker and fickle but if you catch his interest he’ll be ride-or-die for you. Very loyal to his goddess-mother, and is heavily involved in the politics of the Gods. He has a fondness for irritating Ira, and likes Elana.

Dystopian (not officially named)

Piers Erinson - my sad, wet, pathetic son. Someone needs to get this boy some therapy. Very self-destructive, way kinder than you would expect. A member of the DOVEs, which are the elite troops / spies of the Council. He was strong armed into service after a mishap with his old squad, and is the nephew of a hated former DOVE, and traitor. He’s forever trying to escape that shadow, and carries a lot of guilt over what happened to his squad. He would die for Etta, his DOVE partner - and tries to multiply times but she just won’t let him.

Etta Litman - my daughter! Badass lady, 10/10 want to be her friend. Etta was part of Piers’ squad when The Thing happened. She saw him spiralling and joined up with DOVE to keep an eye on him, essentially threw herself to the wolves to protect him from the system and all the corrupt people. She’s very patient, supportive and empathetic to Piers, seeing him as a surrogate younger brother. Anyone else can get fucked in her eyes. She’s super protective of him and will punch anyone who insults him at the drop of a hat.

Dacre Cygnet - rebel, wants to fight the Council and the system and probably God too. Very manipulative, often lies to even his friends if it’ll get him what he wants (and he might even feel bad about it). Blinded by his mission and fully willing to go through people if they stand in his way. Feels many things all at once towards Piers that he cannot compute because he’s a bit of an asshole, very much a “you are the only person I’d hesitate to shoot, please don’t use that against me” kinda deal. They’re on opposite sides technically but he pines.

Marie Fowlep - Piers and Etta’s mentor in DOVE. She had a history with Piers’ uncle, and you can’t tell if she wants to keep Piers safe or wants to use him until he breaks. Doesn’t have a maternal bone in her body but would go to bat for her kids operatives. She’s a “the ends justify the means” kind of lady. Can be very mean.

Rust and Ruin

Mikol - youngest child of Emperor Bendek and Royal Consort Anilise. He’s aware from a young age of the shitty position his mother (and he) have in Otrar’s court and feels a deeper connection to her as both of them were considered ‘outsiders’ due to their features. After his mother died, Mikol spent the next nine years in his mother’s country as a ward, and grew to be a cunning, quick-witted and strong leader. He travelled all over, joined the army, learning as much as he could about how badly his family ruled, and eventually returned to Otrar. He’s an ambitious little fucker and doesn’t get along with his older siblings, especially his oldest half-brother Leonil.

Orryn - born in Troam Siana, the isle of the Ashri (those capable of different types of magic), he was quickly singled out as a new type of Ashri (called Okaeti - capable of energy manipulation). He grew lonely though as the only Okaeti, and made his way to Otrar. Decades later he’s still there, acting as an advisor to the royal family but growing increasingly frustrated with how they govern. He was close friends with Anilise and grows to care for Mikol.

Anilise - the daughter of the King of Evaria, she was forced to marry Emperor Bendek after their country was conquered. Anilise was fifteen, completely isolated in a foreign, hostile court, and essentially forced to breed over and over because the Empress could not carry more children herself. She’s quiet and subdued, treated more as an ornament than a person. Anilise birthed four children, all made to look like the Emperor and Empress in utero by an Ashri magic. Anilise had little to no contact with her children, who grew up thinking the Empress was their mother. Mikol is her only child that looks like her, so she was allowed to raise him. Unfortunately, her constant pregnancies deteriorated her health to the point where she was bedridden, and she died when Mikol was six.

Leonil - the oldest of Bendek’s children, he’s a cruel and cunning young man that wants the throne. He has a particular dislike for Mikol, who he acknowledges is the most dangerous of his half-siblings, and the two of them are each other’s main rival / enemy. Leonil is married with his own young son, and loves his wife and child fiercely. He is ruthless when it comes to defending his claim to the throne, and wants Mikol out of the way.

Delia - Leonil’s wife and a very charming, conniving woman. She’s a softer touch when it comes to manipulating others, and shares what information she gleans with her husband. She also thinks Mikol is dangerous but thinks he'd be more beneficial on their side than against them. She is an excellent politician, and people often underestimate her.

[shuugumi]

a/n : this was kinda rushed but i hope it's good LOL not proofread, requests are open

virgin!bf who already is overstimulated and shy at the fact the two of you are going to that stage in your relationship. rambling left and right about how he should set something up, get the mood prepared for you but all you want from him is to shut up and continue kissing you.

“but i read all these things like, i should light candles, give you a massage to get you in the mood—okay…i’ll—i’ll stop thinking..” he sighs as you continue placing your numbed lips onto his, deepening the kiss as you straddle him. catching him off guard.

virgin!bf who almost cums in his jeans when you grind a bit too hard on his virgin hard on. thumbs digging into your hips as he tries to stop you before he dumps his load into his pants.

“sorry. i’ll try..try to hold it. i don’t want to cum quickly…” he apologizes, unbuttoning the bottom part of his button up just barley exposing his abs and his happy trail that made you feel a lot more warmer down there. “can i—can i take your top off?” nodding he pulls your shirt up and your pretty breasts are on display for him, cupped so greatly by your bra. “i-i didn’t know taking a bra off is this…difficult—ah thank you baby.” he tries attempts to unclip your bra until you help in, your bra sliding down your torso and his eyes become big. looking at your freed breasts he’s shy. stuttering his movement, his hands travel up your torso and softly grabs one of your mounds. squeezing and exploring. “god…these feel so squishy—i-i love them. can i—” “do what you want.” you giggly and immediately he attached his lips to one of your nipples, lapping away at your nipples.

virgin!bf who cums a little bit while he eats you out for the first time. squeezing his balls to try and contain himself but his cum had other plans and wanted to escape! he’s pussy drunk right as he places his tongue in between your slit, flicking his tongue back and forth as he slips a digit in.

“you’re…moaning. do you like when i do that?” his words are muffled, soaking into your soppy cunt as he moves his finger in and out. and sucking on the bundle of nerves, grinding yourself into his face, “i wonder-wonder if i can write my name on your clit..” he starts to spell his name out and he looks up to see how much your enjoying it, adding another finger and sucking until you come undone on his face. drops of pre-cum mixed with his cum dripped off his hands, “shit i came a little…i-i grabbed my balls really hard.” he laughs as you come down from your high, he immediately goes back in between your thighs and starts licking once more until you push his head away, he’s begging to do it again.

virgin!bf only lasts a few second’s before he’s releasing himself in you. his back against the couch as you ride him slowly. rocking your hips back and forth, littering kisses and marks down his neck. he’s begging for you to kiss him. hands on his chest as you rock back and forth, connecting your lips to his.

“ah fuck baby—g’nna cum. kiss me baby please.” he whines, grip getting stronger on your ass as his dick starts to twitch in you. kissing him with passion, you ride him harder, chasing his and your highs. “fuck your pussy is just squeezing me—ah fuckkk, feels s’good.” he moans out into your lips, “g’nna cum!” breathless you moan out, wrapping your arms around his neck as you continue your pace. soon he’s painting your walls white and your cum mixed with his is leaking down your thighs and onto his own dick.

BONUS:

“how often do you think we can do it?” he pants over you, playing with your hair. “mmm, how many times do you jerk off?” you ask, grabbing onto his bicep and he thinks. “everyday.”

“then we can do it everyday.”

“fuckk you’re making me hard again..”

© 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢 ; do not translate, copy, plagiarize or upload elsewhere!! all content is owned by me unless stated otherwise.

[jelly-drop-buttons]

Hey can I ask relationship headcanon's on selene x hades because it's been the most interesting oc x canon.

Oooo, okay, well thank you for taking so much interest in my li’l ship, it is much appreciated. And get ready because I’ve written out a ton of headcanons for this occasion! Since it is so long, I have provided them undercut, so…

Selene x Hades Headcanons:

- Okay, so, let’s start with petnames shall we?

- Selene calls Hades: My Lord, My Liege, My King, My Oneness, My God, Darling, Dearest, Dear, Big Guy, Hothead, Sweetie, Sweetheart, My Love, My Muse, Baby, Hon, and Honey.

- Hades calls Selene: Sweetheart, Sugar, Babe, Baby, Little Miss Moon, Moonlight, Moonshine, Sweet Thing, My Sweet, My Love, My Moon, My Light, Queen, Princess, Goddess, Beautiful, Gorgeous, Chickipoo, Young Lady, and Li’l Missy.

- Now to move to the relationship dynamics…

- Selene’s love language is touch. Compliments are enjoyed, gifts are appreciated, but touch is what truly makes her heart sing. Even so much as a pet from Hades makes her feel like she’s melting. And one will often find her clinging to him, listening to every single word he says in that voice she’s come to adore. She’ll also give gifts and provide services pretty often, it’s the least she can do in return for making her so happy.

- Hades also values touch greatly, but his preferred love language is words and such. To fluster Selene with his flirts and to whisper to her sweet affirmations is a privilege to him. On the other hand, Selene doing those same things just turns him into mush since it rarely happens to him. Plus, it makes him feel quite nice when she listens to his rambles and rants.

- Their ideal date is a night spent on the Earth; Walking around in the forest, stargazing on a cliffside, playing near the shining ocean on a beach. They couldn’t care less if a mortal happens upon them, but if one did Selene can just make them forget with her hypnosis.

- When Hades occasionally visits Mount Olympus gatherings it’s usually to see how nice life would be up there. But, after he started seeing Selene he went to gatherings (more specifically night ones) every chance he got. It was the perfect time to talk to her without Helios budging in or judging them from afar.

- Selene may frequently travel down to Earth, but she needs a bit of convincing before she can travel further down to the Underworld with Hades. The first time she went she was initially unnerved, from how dark and dreary it was to the souls that made up the river clawing at her dress. However, as time went on she began to get more accustomed to it knowing that perhaps one day this would be her new home. Her favorite spot to hang out in is the throne room where she sits upon the lap of her lord.

- It would be incredibly difficult for either of them to choose a “favorite trait” of each other. They have a lot of common things they both love about each other; The way their voices sound and talk, the way their eyes sparkle during eye contact, the way they laugh at each other’s jokes, the way they touch and hold and kiss each other, the list is truly endless! But, if they really had to pick one out of the bunch, Selene would choose how tall Hades is and Hades would choose how sensuous Selene is.

- When Hades is grumpy, angry, or having an outburst, Selene is quick to calm him down. Admittedly, she does kinda like seeing him so intense, but she knows better than to enable his anger issues. I should also mention his flames aren’t an issue for her as her godly status prevents her from getting burned + she’s developed a strong tolerance to heat. Her brother is Helios, what more can I say?

- When Hades has had a rough day running the Underworld or something of the sort, Selene comforts him by letting him lay on her chest or lap. Depending on what’s up, she may give him loving affirmations or sing to him, both while massaging where he is most tense. All of it really helps Hades relax and just generally makes him very happy getting pampered like this.

- Selene also has her bad days sometimes and Hades won’t hesitate to make sure she gets the comfort she needs. He’ll sit her on his lap and cuddle her and kiss her and sweet talk her so that he can see her beautiful smile once more. And if she starts to cry (something she only does when she’s completely vulnerable), he’ll just hold her and rock her in his arms. It breaks his heart to see her so upset and if it was caused by someone, anyone (who is mortal at least)… Well, let’s just say the Underworld will have a new resident very soon.

I hope that’s enough for now. Hopefully I’ll come up with more in due time!

[reverieblondie]

"You want to know my thoughts??? 👀💖" Yes! 😁

"So, I think the Raphael in the game would for sure keep his eye on the warlock not because he particularly cares if they where bad to his little mouse but what information they could get and use from the Warlock to better manipulate Tav." I 100% agree with that.

"BUT! I think your wanting to know about the Raphael I hc and write about." Yep! I enjoy your interpretations of the character and find it fun to read about. ☺️

Also, what you wrote made sense to me and I greatly enjoyed reading it. Thank you so much for sharing! 🫶

Thank you so much Anon! I feel like I need to have a special name for you or an emoji from you so I can recognize you in some way. Your positivity is just so infectious!

Also I am happy you agree with my thoughts on Raphael. Honestly I get super intimated to write for Raphael because he is so complicated and I know their is a lot of ways you can take his character, I feel like sometimes I can get a bit ooc for him to be honest. But I guess people like my interpretation because I started out as just a Rolan simper (which I still am I love LOVE rolan! yes sir that's my baby!) but my asks for Rapheal greatly out weigh my ask for any other character.

Also I am so excited people want to read my rambling! my brain is always thrumming about so its nice to get to share with you all!

[fonulyn]

hello~

For the resi ask game... 🎮 and 📖,please? :D

hello there! :D and thank you for asking!! 💖

🎮What’s favourite main game? (0-8 and Code Veronica)

original re4 is my baby i will forever love and adore it and keep shouting about that from the rooftops :'D it was life-changing for me in 2005! I'd mainly played stuff like Zelda and Mario so far, except for Eternal Darkness (which is amazing 10/10 would recommend) so it struck with how different it was. also, Leon? the prettiest. those legs!! but I'll shut up about re4 before I'll babble and embarrass myself more :'D

also I've got to say that re6 comes really damn close! it's got the most angst, it's got a super pretty older Leon, it's got Piers, it's got Jake, it's got Sherry, it's got it all :'D also it's so much fun to get to play as a co-op, i gotta admit, i enjoyed that greatly. i do get why some people don't like it bc it's not as horror-focused and more action, but i loved it. and I loved how the different campaigns had different vibes to them so clearly!

📖Do you like learning about the lore? Is there a specific part you like learning the most?

ehmmmm yes and no? I do love picking up details in the games and the movies, and I think I am pretty well-versed in what canon entails. but I am picky? I don't want to go scour through the (dubiously) canon books or interviews or such. i don't believe in word-of-god when it comes to media. to me, if it's not right there on the screen for everyone to see, it doesn't count. if that makes sense.

also, unpopular opinion, but game-wise there hasn't been anything new I've been into in a looong time. I don't really give a shit about the last two main games or the latest remake 😅 so I'm ignoring them? I wish everyone who likes them fun times with them! but personally, ehhhhh, no. but up until that part I am interested in the lore, definitely.

I'd be interested in A LOT MORE lore tbh if they'd give us more but RE hasn't ever really been a super lore-heavy series tbh. they give what's needed but don't deep-dive into things really. and it'd be nice if they did dive a bit deeper sometimes.

...again I'm rambling lol I'm sorry I'll stop now :'D

[bitebackbaby]

just read through your clone OCs post and i just have to say, i love them, your honor. i've loved getting glimpses of them in the fox in the henhouse series, and now i need to bundle all of them up in warm blankets and make them warm beverages. thanks for sharing your lovely creations with the world <3

i have been keeping this in my inbox like it’s a blanket for my little mouse body that soothes me on these long winter nights, but i suppose i must learn to let go…

anyway IM SO HAPPY YOU LIKE MY OCS!! It might be a little early to begin discussing marriage, but im willing to start the arrangements if you are <3

for real, its super nice to hear that people are enjoying the clones i throw in my fics (here is a list with more information, for the uninitiated!) — each of them is my super special baby who is god’s weakest soldier and i love them dearly. they each have a purpose, too! i enjoy exploring what it means to be military (but not) and the weird state of martial law that Coruscant edges into even before the empire ever rises, and some oc clones makes it easy to dig deeper into different aspects of that without completely transplanting canon characters, though the canon guard members have such little screen time that some futzing doesn’t matter too much…

and i'm rambling. well! as a reward (?) for making it this far, here’s a couple of new characters that will be featuring this month as febuwhump goes on!

JUDGE: [he/him] a techie who (allegedly) works with the Senate air traffic control. this information is mostly guesswork, as anytime someone comes looking for Judge, he tends to be sitting in the break room on his comm, so it’s hard to say if he does any work at all. completely unbothered by pretty much anything, he nonetheless has a reputation around the Guard of being a complete badass because he can make any senator shut up within two sentences. he accomplishes this by being the one in charge of clearing flights to the surface, and any senate workers who invoke his wrath quickly find themselves on hold for the next two hours while he takes a long lunch.

name origin: due to his unflappable nature, he quickly became the go-to trooper to be called upon to mediate petty disputes. there is apparently no rhyme or reason for which side he chooses, but it has become an unofficial rule within the barracks that once Judge has made the final call, the party’s over.

TWO: [he/they] a member of Thorn’s diplomatic escort team, but the rest of them all try to keep Two at the back (preferably with his mouth taped shut) because despite his excellent marksmanship skills and high scores on the diplomacy and hostage negotiations sims, Two is a mean little bastard who would probably dox people on twitter in a modern au. Thorn snatched up Two very quickly, because he knew that his batchmate Moriarty was aiming for the recently-graduated cadet to join the Guard’s T&I division, and Thorn didn’t think Fox’s blood pressure could handle that.

name origin: “Two” is actually short for Two-Faced, and has nothing to do with their CT number. Two greatly enjoys getting the chance to explain this to people, and daring them to say anything about it. be careful, this one bites!

thanks for the ask, and thanks for reading this far!! if anyone ever have questions about my ocs or wants to chat about writing, feel free to hit me up!! i’ll take any chance i can get to talk about my little freaks 🥰

[arvinsescape]

Late.

A/N: As always i hope you enjoy. First time writing genuine arsehole Tom. You can now read a follow up if you want here.

Summary: Tom’s late for dinner, reader has had enough. Tom makes a mistake but it all works out in the end.

W/C: 2.2K

Warnings: Swearing.

“Tom Holland spotted with new girlfriend after breakup with ex.”

“Tom Holland on night out with new girlfriend.”

“Is Tom Holland finally over his ex?”

You saw the headlines and wanted to throw your phone at a wall. You and Tom had dated for two years and broken it off a couple of months ago, it was sad and it was messy a row where you both said things you shouldn’t have.

“Seriously Tom?” You shouted as you threw your hands up, voice hoarse from all the shouting.

“I was late, yes. I get it you were left hanging but I was busy and didn’t finish on time. You need to get some perspective.” He shouted.

“I’m not even upset about that, a quick text would have been nice. But no, you left me sat there like a complete fucking idiot.” You fired back and he rolled his eyes.

“I have had a stressful enough day as it is. I don’t need you adding to it. You’re behaving like a bratty child and you knew what you were getting yourself into.”

“Seriously? That’s you’re defence? I knew what I was getting into, so what, I’m just supposed to accept it?” You asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, you know you could really use getting some more friends. You can’t just rely on me all the time.” He snapped and your heart dropped. You had friends, but not many, you’d been bullied a lot through high school and therefore kept a small circle of people you trusted and he knew that.

“They were busy.” You fired back.

“Were they? Or are they just sick of listening to you go on?” He shouted and that stung, it was a huge insecurity of yours, you always feared people didn’t truly like you.

“You know what Tom? You are so far stuck up your own arse that it’s embarrassing. I’m glad you and your foul fucking mood didn’t make it tonight.” You shouted, you were close to tears but you didn’t want to cry in front of him, not right now.

“Yeah well at least I fucking do something with my life.” He shouted back and you couldn’t stop the tears at that. You’d recently turned down a promotion to move to New York so that you could see him as often as you still did, it felt like he was throwing it back in your face.

“You are a vain, arrogant, selfish, stuck up arsehole.” You said back as your voice cracked, his eyes instantly snapped to yours as he heard your voice crack. His anger washed away completely as he realised exactly what it was he’d just said to you. He took a careful step towards you as he spoke.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” You cried when you heard the softness in his voice. A stark contrast from seconds ago.

“Don’t ‘baby’ me you arsehole. I’m going to stay at Lizzie’s.” You said as you picked up your bag, going into the bedroom and stuffing whatever clothes touched your hands into it, he was hot on your trail.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. It was out of line, I’m sorry.” He kept trying. When you were done you turned to look at him.

“Those were possibly some of the worst things you could have said to me. Thank you for playing on the insecurities that I told you about in confidence. I greatly fucking appreciate it.” You snapped, your tears were unstoppable and he felt awful.

“Y/N please. Just calm down and we’ll talk about it yeah?” He was crying now and you turned to make your way towards the front door. You turned to look at him one last time before you spoke.

“Until you’ve sorted your attitude out, I don’t wanna see you.” You said as you slammed the door shut and left for Lizzie’s.

He had tried to call you, many times after that. He showed up at Lizzie’s a week later but she wouldn’t let him in. You cried for weeks and just as you thought you were getting better, that you weren’t missing him the same, you saw that he had a new girlfriend. You’d noticed he’d tried to ring you a couple of times this morning but you’d ignored it. Your twitter mentions had gone through the roof for the first time since you’d split and you couldn’t help but look at them.

Dam that girl looks like Y/N but less attractive.

Y/N is naturally prettier I have to say.

Looking at the pictures, I think it’s just a hook up.

She’s far prettier than Y/N, well done Tommy.

That girl legit looks the spit of Y/N, I don’t think he’s over her.

It looks like Tom took Y/N and upgraded her.

I feel bad for the amount of hate Y/N’s getting, leave her be guys, we don’t know why they split up or how she’ll be feeling about this, I know I’d be heartbroken.

You furrowed your brows as you opened one of the pictures and in all fairness they weren’t wrong, she held a lot of similarities but she was far prettier and it made your heart ache. You still liked that some of his fans were supportive, some had been quite defensive of you. Tom had been vague about why you’d split up but never once denied it was his fault.

Then a tweet caught your eye because you noticed that Harry had retweeted it.

Please don’t bother Y/N with this. We know Tom said it was his fault as to why they broke up. We know that they loved each other and I think Tom might have made a mistake. Please respect that they are both still probably hurting and we should leave them alone.

Why was Harry retweeting something about this? Sure, he’d been supportive of you but not in public. Please respect that they are both still probably hurting. Was Tom still hurting? Apart from this morning he hadn’t tried to reach out at all in three weeks, you thought that was his way of saying he was over it. That was until you opened your voicemail and saw that Tom had left one last night. You sighed as you brought the phone up to your ear.

“Hi baby, sorry Y/N. I shouldn’t call you that anymore.” He was drunk and he was crying, that much you could tell. “Erm, you didn’t pick your phone up, not that I blame you. I wouldn’t if you said that shit to me. Listen, you’re gonna see some stuff tomorrow that I’m not proud of but you probably won’t get the whole truth and I want you to know what happened.” He sniffled a few times and your heart ached, he’d wanted to tell you first and you’d not answered.

“So I got really drunk tonight, as you can probably tell. I met this girl and she looked like you, she wasn’t you but she looked like you. She was really nice actually but that’s beside the point. You’re probably gonna see the pictures of me kissing her outside that club and I’m sorry. I know we’re not together but I haven’t moved on and I don’t want you to think I have.” You were crying as you listened to him, he sounded like he was in so much pain.

“I still love you, like a lot and I’m sorry. I brought her here and when we were about to sleep together I couldn’t do it. She was in our bed Y/N/N, that’s your place, not hers and I just couldn’t do it. I cried and she was really nice, she told me to call you. So here I am. Well, she said I should call you tomorrow when I was sober but I was hoping I’d hear your voice. Your voicemail will have to do I suppose. I love you and I miss you and I’m sorry I was such a prick. I didn’t mean it.”

You ended the call because you couldn’t listen anymore, he sounded like he was in so much pain and it made your heart sink into the pit of your stomach. He really was hurting as much as you were, maybe more. You were pulled out of your thoughts as your phone buzzed. Tom. You hesitated for a second before you answered.

“Hey.” You said in the best voice of happiness you could muster.

“Y/N? I didn’t think you’d answer.” He sniffled, was he crying again?

“Yeah, I erm, I got your voicemail.” You said and you heard as he let out a sob.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair, I didn’t mean to spill all that, I only rang you with the intent of explaining what you’ve probably seen this morning. I shouldn’t have done that, I know you’re trying to move on so I shouldn’t have told you that I still love you.” He rambled through his sobs and your heart broke.

“Tom, it’s okay. I think I can forgive you for leaving an emotional voicemail.” You laughed through your tears and you heard him let out a choked laugh too.

“Can I see you? You don’t have to come here and I don’t have to come to you but can we meet somewhere neutral please? Even if it’s just for closure?” He was begging and you knew deep down you couldn’t say no even if you wanted to.

“Okay. How about that coffee shop we both like?” You said.

“Okay, gimme an hour?” The hope in his voice was enough to lift your heart slightly.

An hour later and you found yourself awkwardly sat at a table with Tom as you sipped your coffee.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. “I mean it. I shouldn’t have said what I said, it was so fucking wrong of me. I shouldn’t have used your insecurities like that, it was a dick move. You’re right I was being an arrogant, selfish arsehole and you deserved better, I understand why you left me.” He said as he looked at you, you could see the tears brimming and watched as he swallowed them back.

“It hurt Tom.” You said in response. “But you weren’t completely wrong either, I did rely on you too much, I pushed you harder than I should have at times and I know how hard you work.”

“Y/N, you just wanted me to be there when I said I was going to be, that’s not relying on me too much, that’s just asking me to be your boyfriend.” He sighed again.

“But you were right, there was always a chance that what would happen happened and I should have been more understanding.” You said as you looked at him again.

“I should have sent you a text and for that I’m sorry but it wasn’t like it was the first time it happened. I was so wrapped up in the film that I didn’t think much past it and I’m sorry for that. I shouldn’t have thrown you turning down that promotion at you either, I know you did that for us.” He said and he meant it, you knew he did, he may have been a fantastic actor but he always had this look in his eye when he was being completely genuine and vulnerable, one he couldn’t fake.

“It’s okay. I think we both needed to learn some things when we broke up.” You sighed as you sat in silence again, it felt more comfortable this time.

“I’m sorry about last night, the voicemail, the girl. All of it.” He said.

“It’s okay. In fairness you don’t have to apologise about the girl, you are single.” You tried to joke and he tensed.

“No but I didn’t want you to think I’d moved on, you deserve better than that. As for being single, please don’t remind me.” He huffed slightly, you could see the pain, it was all over his face. You missed him dearly and he seemed so genuine about how sorry he was. You sighed before you spoke up again.

“How about I let you take me to dinner tomorrow night? You know start over?” You mumbled and his face lit up in the most genuine way you’d ever seen.

“Seriously? You wanna try again?” He was smiling now and you realised how much you’d missed seeing it.

“I’m prepared to try again but take it slowly.” You admitted.

“Whatever you want.” He was nodding profusely, it almost looked comical. “What time? I won’t be late I promise.”

“7?” You asked as you stood to collect your bag.

“I’ll be there at ten to.” He smiled as you made you’re way out of the coffee shop.

[kolsmikaelson]

Draft Day- Luke Hughes

a/n- not my best/favorite but hope you enjoy! | join my taglist | gif not mine, creds to owner!| word count: 778| not proofread| feedback is greatly appreciated!|

July 23rd is the day Luke has been waiting for for years. Everyone knew this was something he had wanted since he was young. Growing up in a hockey family, and seeing his brothers whom he looked up to play in the NHL only gave Luke more motivation to practice harder and work his way into the league and make a name for himself, and not just be “Jack's brother” or “The other Hughes brother.” You’d been friends with Luke since you were five, he was your first friend upon moving into the same neighborhood as his family. You grew up attached to the hip, doing everything with each other. You’d go to all his practices and games while he’d come to any important or not so important events in your life. Everyone in your lives knew you were in love with him and that he was in love with you as well, everyone but the two of you. Both convinced themselves that the other only thought of them as a best friend and nothing more.

As soon as the date for the draft was announced, Luke asked you to be by his side that night. Sure he would have his family and friends but to him you were the most important person in his life and he was unsure he’d make it through that night without you. You marked your calendar the moment he invited you, though with how much time you spend at the Hughes household you would have been there than day, draft or not. Luke’s family thought of you as family, and welcomed you into their home with open arms. If any of them were to arrive home and you weren't there sitting around with Luke it was almost concerning to them. 

On the night of the draft you were sitting on the Hughes’ family couch right beside him, just like you both wanted. “Y/N?” you hear Luke question from beside you. “What's up Luke?” you ask, turning your body to face the taller boy. “I’m nervous, I'm really nervous. What if I don’t get drafted to New Jersey? Where else do you think would want me?What if-” you cut off his rambles by grabbing a hold of his hand. “Babe, it’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna get drafted to New Jersey, you’re gonna get to play beside Jack, you’re gonna live your dream. I know you will Luke. I’ll be with you the whole time okay, just keep a hold of my hand and squeeze it when you get nervous okay?” With a smile on his face, Luke pulls you into a hug, letting himself linger for a moment too long he mutters a soft “I love you” in your ear. You press a kiss to his cheek and turn back towards the TV, but not before catching Jack's eye, “thank you” he mouths.

The next thing you know, it’s New Jersey's turn to announce their pick and you feel Luke's hand in yours tighten, you give him an encouraging squeeze. “It is with my pleasure to announce that New Jersey’s 2021 round one draft pick is Luke Hughes.” Immediately jumping up you pull Luke into a hug. “I told you! There was nothing to worry about babe!” you exclaim. Instead of responding, Luke puts his hands on your cheeks and pulls you in for a kiss. Once you both pull back everyone continues to congratulate him, but you don’t leave his side. Especially with the grip he has on  your hand, you couldn't walk away even if you wanted to.

Hours later you and Luke are lying in his bed together, something you did often when you slept over. “Y/N? Will you be my significant other?” he murmurs. Grinning, you nod your head rapidly, “Of course I will baby.”

Just before you begin to fall asleep your phone dings. You see Luke with a smirk on his face which makes you think he’s behind why your phone went off. You check the notification which says “lhughes_06 tagged you in a post.” clicking on the notification, brings up a photo of you hugging Luke, legs wrapped around his waist having jumped into Lukes arms right after the Devils announced his name. You read the caption, “Perfect night with my baby.” with a smile you comment “your baby huh? I like the sound of that;)”before turning your phone off for the night.

“Hey Luke...I love you. I have for years now.” you say before hiding your face in his chest. “I love you too y/n. Always have.” he says kissing your forehead as you drift off to sleep.

taglist- @brandtsclarke @ilyasorokinn @boqvistsbabe @frederikanderson @maximoff-xmen @bbrissons

[bl00dgutsgl0ry]

You Shouldn’t Touch What’s Not Yours

Pairing - Diluc and Childe x Reader (separate of course).

Warnings - Violence, implied bullying/harassment/assault, very very mild gore.

Other Comments - I’ve wrote so much for Childe that I thought I should probably throw someone else into the mix, so why not put in my second favorite white boy Diluc hehe. (♡-_-♡) I can’t help but write angst for my babies but I promise I have some lighter fluffier stuff on the way  (￣ω￣;). I also tried to make these a little shorter since I was writing for two characters this time hehe.

~ Childe ~

      The day was set up to be so good. Childe had been quite busy with his usual Harbinger duties, but he had finally been able to score a couple days off and decided he wanted to plan out a romantic sequence of evenings. He had spent so much time and effort making everything perfect. Childe most definitely not frugal in any terms of the word, but he managed to surprise himself with how much Mora he had spent for just two days. Of course just the luck for him, a wrench had to be thrown into the mix.

      You had been having a tough couple of weeks trying to deal with a rather difficult man who had commissioned you from the Adventurers guild. After you had informed him that you were unable to complete his commission, he had decided to make your life a living hell; constantly throwing insults at you and almost getting physical with you on a couple of occasions.

      Now of course when you had received message from Childe that he was going to be “home” for a couple of days, you were absolutely floored. You missed him greatly and you were finally going to have someone to distract you from the awful harassment; but this also meant that you were going to have to figure out a way of hiding the obvious toll it took on you. 

      There were dark bags underneath your once gleeful eyes, from the loss of sleep due to worrying about this man and his whereabouts. There were also a couple of bruises left on your knees from stumbling when running away from your aggressor; though those could easily be written off as injuries from the Hilichurls or Treasure Hoarders.

      On the day of Childe’s arrival he had expected to be greeted with a beaming (y/n), and a great big hug, maybe even a passionate kiss. But what he was greeted with, was the shell of his significant other. Today was the worst possible day for him to see you, as you had just gotten out of a physical altercation with the usual suspect. There were clear tear stains, you had dirt and scrapes all over you, and he even dared to go as far as give you a bloody nose.

      You gave Childe a lifeless smile that couldn’t even reach your eyes, before heading straight into your apartment and closing the door; not waiting for Childe. Not only was he outraged and your actions and appearance, the way you were acting clearly alluded to this abuse lasting for a while. Why didn’t you say anything about it to him, send him a message? He could’ve sent over Fatui agents to take care of the cockroach. Of course his outrage was misplaced, is was not your fault; he knew this. He needed to get to the roots of this little weed.

      It took a little bit of digging, but once Childe found the source of your issues it was over. This man had never been more blind sighted with rage, than when he made eye contact with the piece of shit who dared to lay a hand on you or speak to you at all.

      Childe was very careful about only showing you the good side of him, at least for now as your relationship with him was still too new; so gods did it feel good to really beat the shit out of this guy. 

      “Hey you! Did you commission an adventurer by the name of (y/n) by any chance?” Childe new better than to suddenly go in swinging, by the slight off chance that this may have been the wrong man.

      “Huh? Oh yeah, or at least I tried. The useless little shit couldn’t get it done though, so I do not recommend them at all.” Ah yes, the flash of red in Childe’s vision confirmed it all. How dare they speak ill of you, and even worse touch something that belonged to him.

      “Bad news comrade, you should never touch something that isn’t yours.” There was an evil glint in Childe’s now dark eyes as he suddenly swung at the man. He didn’t really care if others say, he decided it was good to make an example out of this jerk.

      By the end of everything, Childe was spattered with blood, not to mention how awful his fists looked. Though that doesn’t even begin to cover what the other man looked like. To call him a bloody mess was an understatement, and the copper headed man wasn’t exactly sure if the man was even breathing anymore though of course he didn’t exactly care either. 

      With that, Childe cleaned himself up before heading back to your residence. He guessed he would just have to extend his stay with you for a few more days to make up for what this scum bag did. He would be damned if he left without seeing that playful glint return to your eyes.

~ Diluc ~

     Diluc was an incredibly busy man, so he never got to see you much except for the rare occasions that you would stop by the winery if you  were say in the area. So when he made the executive decision to leave work early and surprise you at home, he was more than a little shocked to see you getting yelled at by one of the Knights of Favonius.

       He knew you had always been a little more on the soft and sensitive side, which made him love you even more. You were the polar opposite to him in that regard, so a switch flipped in him when his eyes met your tearful ones.

      “Excuse me what happens to be the problem here?” Diluc’s strides were large and quick, trying to get between you and the dreadful knight as quickly as possible. It was clear that this Knight was not normally on patrol inside of Mondstadt, or on patrol anywhere for that matter as he seemed to be pretty new. Even if Diluc despised all of them, he knew almost every single one of them.

      “Well, this one right here clearly doesn’t understand the laws of gliding, as they clearly do not have a gliding license-”

      “I’ve been trying to tell you I have a license I must’ve just forgotten it! You can ask Amber she’s the one that did my test!” You were quick to explain yourself once again, accidentally cutting off the knight.

      “Don’t you dare interrupt me!” The knight reached around Diluc to push your shoulder, to which Diluc quickly shoved him back causing him to fall backwards.

      “Don’t fucking touch them. I’ll have you know, I know your Acting Grand Master quite well it would take no time at all to send her a letter of how poor you are at your job. You’re clearly new here, so i hope you enjoy getting your job stripped away as fast as you ‘earned’ it; if you could even say that.” The color completely drained from the knight’s face and they went to stand back up and quickly jogged away. With that Diluc quickly turned around to face you.

      “(Y/n) are you okay? Have you been hurt? I swear you should never trust any of the Knights they all-” Diluc was rambling, you’d never seen him this frantic before. It was almost kind of cute how he was almost as shaken up as you were as he looked you over for any injuries, even the smallest scrape.

      “Diluc, I am okay. Thank you for helping me.” On of Diluc’s gloved hands came up to cup your cheek as he brushed away the last few tears on your face with his thumb. Relief visibly flooded over him, before quickly going back to his usual stoic self. 

      “Well, I am glad I just happened to take the rest of the day off. This wasn’t exactly the way I was planning of surprising you with that but oh well.” A smile immediately lit up your face, causing Diluc’s to flush a light pink. 

      “Really?! That’s great I’m so excited! Wait... So are you really going to tell Acting Grand Master Jean about him?” Diluc let out a low chuckle.

      “I just might. I haven’t visited her office in quite some time either so I guess this does give me another excuse to take another day off from the tavern. And besides, a guy like him has no place in the Knights, he would’ve turned out to be a cocky power hungry fool. Now shall we get going?” 

[scoopsgf]

can i get a good night’s sleep? can i PLEASE get a good night’s sleep?!

or: five times peter parker doesn’t sleep + the one time he does

my contribution to the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange! this is for @snarky-drabbles - I hope you enjoy it! 

1. 

The first time is actually just the first in a while. Peter’s had problems sleeping ever since he was a little kid; it was just one issue of many that stacked up on top of each other, resulting in his personal belief that he must be the most difficult kid to look after on the planet.

Asthma meant hundreds of dollars spent on inhalers, covering what their shitty insurance didn’t. His poor eyesight was the same story and the bullies that used to break his glasses had never helped. But it wasn’t just physical crap, of course: he’s had anxiety for as long as he can remember.

There are cute side-effects like panic attacks and nausea, not to mention the constant sense of impending doom he’s been nursing since… well, birth, probably. When he was younger he’d worry about whether or not the taxi driver had enough gas in his car to get them where they needed to go, or maybe Ben would get shot at work (ironically enough, he’d never worried that Ben would get shot off-duty, and there is a teeny superstitious sliver of him that believes maybe if he had considered the possibility it never would have happened, like some kind of a reverse jinx or something).

One of the other cute things that comes along with it is insomnia.

So here he is, pacing in his kitchen at three in the morning because May isn’t home yet.

Her shift ended at two. She’s usually back within a half hour considering the hospital isn’t far, hence his agitation.

He’s tried calling and texting to no avail, and he keeps telling himself that everything is fine, that she probably just got held up; meanwhile his subconscious provides a great slideshow of mental images that speak to the opposite—her getting kidnapped because somehow someone links her to Spider-Man, her getting hit with a car, mugged, shot, slipping on black ice—and that’s actually not far-fetched considering it’s January, there’s a lot of it, and so he pulls out his phone and types, You didn’t slip on black ice and die did you? to May.

No little dots appear to signify that she’s typing. The message doesn’t even change from ‘delivered’ to ‘read’.

She has her read receipts on. She’s promised him. There’s no reason she’d change that, right? But maybe she accidentally switched them off when she was scrolling through her settings.

He calls her.

“Hi, this is May Parker, I’m unavailable at the moment but if you leave me a message I’ll get back to you as soon as—”

Peter hangs up with a dissatisfied grunt.

It’s only then that he realises, to his great dismay, that he’s paced all the way onto the ceiling.

In his shock he loses concentration and falls. “Ow, fuck.” He pulls his aching knee to his chest. It’ll no doubt be bruised soon. “God has forsaken me.”

He picks up his now cracked phone and texts Ned:

I just fell off the ceiling at 3 AM in the morning

Don’t ask me what I was doing on it

Every bone in my body is broken :(

No reply comes which is pretty typical; Ned probably passed out in front of his PC like, hours ago. Peter can picture it: the light of his computer screen casting a blue glow over everything in the room, his head probably tucked into his arms to muffle his snores (and there’s also probably a bowl of stale popcorn spilled across his floor at this point), his creepy mother lurking in the doorway—or worse, trying to find out how to snoop through his laptop while he’s out of it.

Peter could totally go swing down there and help the guy out. It would be something to do anyway.

But no. The door is too far. His suit… too much work. It’s definitely better to just stay here curled up under the table like a little turtle.

But wait—a blanket.

Is it worth the effort? Probably. Peter scans his immediate surroundings and, oh boy, Lady Fate is actually on his side tonight because there’s a gigantic purple fluffy one hanging off the couch and it only takes a little bit of physical exertion to yank it down and wrap it around his body.

He burrows deeper into it and scrolls through Instagram. MJ posted a picture of a banana today. Literally like, just a banana. No caption, no explanation on her story, nothing.

Peter double taps it and comments: i hope u asked before u took his jacket

No like. No reply. That makes sense. It is three in the fucking morning, after all.

No. Three thirty. It’s been an hour and a half.

What had May said once? That it was okay to call someone if she was two hours late?

Peter tries texting and calling one more time and then just sits there, staring at his home screen and watching the minutes pass. At exactly four AM after much deliberation and stomach churning, he calls someone else.

Three rings later: “I’m in Vienna right now so this better be good.”

Peter feels even more nauseous than before. “Oh,” he says. “I guess—never mind, then. Sorry.”

“Wait, wait, that was just for show and I’m greatly intrigued as to why you’re calling me so… early? Late? Anyway I’m out of the conference room now so lay it on me.”

Against his will, Peter’s lip quirks up. “Um, it’s kind of stupid—”

“Nothing is ever stupid,” Tony says. “Especially when it’s coming from the brain of a kid with an intelligence quotient of 260.”

He feels his cheeks heat up and then it all just comes tumbling out, “It’s really late and May was supposed to be off at two and home by two-thirty, but she’s not and I don’t know what to do. I tried calling and texting but she’s not replying and I know that I’m probably just building it up in my head but I can’t help freaking out because like, what if she got stabbed or slipped on black ice or—”

“Hey Pete?”

“Yeah?”

“Breathe.”

Tony’s voice has softened immeasurably. Something uncoils in Peter’s stomach. He flops onto his side and closes his eyes. “I’m breathing.”

“That’s good, kiddo. Now just hang on a sec, I’m gonna call the hospital.”

“What? Why?”

“Well she works there, right?”

“...Yeah.”

“And you haven’t tried calling them yet, correct?”

“...Correct.”

“Ergo,” Tony says.

“But I—”

“Yeah?”

Peter bites his lip and then he just blurts it: “I don’t want you to hang up.”

He feels like such a child but the thought of losing connection with Tony is literally making his heart palpitate and his palms sweat. He needs someone. He needs an adult.

“Well lucky for us both I have two phones.”

Peter cracks an eye. “You what?”

“I’m Tony Stark, don’t question it. Hang on, let me just—hello, hi, um, I need this room. No, it can’t wait. Yes the whole room. Yes locked. I don’t know, five minutes? Ten? An hour? No, I’m not joking. Thank you. Thanks. Yeah. Okay. Bye now.” Something slams shut—the door to the office Tony just stole, probably. “Okay, just a sec, I have the number for the reception desk she works at in my phone.”

Peter, for some reason, feels immeasurably comforted by that. He sits in silence gnawing on his lip while Tony has a somewhat muffled conversation he can’t hear the other side of. Then, “You still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Okay, well, they said she’s covering for someone and can’t get to the phone because a baby had to have emergency surgery so she’s literally in the OR as we speak. Pretty badass and not bad as far as excuses go. Now that you know she’s fine and not dead by ice, how about you get some shut-eye, okay kid?”

Peter swallows. “Yeah. Okay. Thank you, Tony.”

“No Mr. Stark this time, huh?”

“It’s too late for formalities.”

“I see,” Tony replies. “Sleep, okay?”

“Okay.”

The line goes dead. Peter, slightly relieved but not fully consoled, rolls over to face the door. He doesn’t sleep at all that night and is still there when May comes home at six in the morning with bagels and apologies.

—

2. 

The anniversary of Ben’s death is always super weird.

This time it takes him a few minutes to remember what day it is: he’s in the middle of brushing his teeth and then it hits him like a train: oh, it’s been three years.

Then comes May. She usually tries to cook something for breakfast but like always it burns. He leaves the bathroom to the sound of the smoke alarm and fans a cookie sheet at the screeching little device while she swears up and down in Italian.

“It’s okay, May, really—”

“No, it’s not!” She snaps, tossing a batch of blackened cinnamon rolls into the trash. “I just want this day to be easy for you!”

Peter goes over to her and, after kicking the oven door shut with his foot, pulls her into his arms. May starts to cry even though she tries not to; sniffles turn into barely stifled sobs. He knows that it’s harder for her than it is for him. Ben was her husband and they’d been married for thirteen years when he died. Sometimes he still catches her looking to see if he’s laughing too when they watch TV, only to find an empty recliner.

“It’s okay for it to be a bad day,” he whispers. “You know that, right? I mean, I love you to pieces, May, but I don’t wanna see you bending over backwards for me.”

“But that’s my job, doofus.”

Peter pulls back. He’s an inch taller than her now. “No it’s not. We take care of each other, okay?”

Then comes school. Ned usually hovers nervously like an agitated gnat, too afraid to say anything, not sure if he should act normal or be sad in solidarity, which means it’s kind of Peter’s job to set the tone. As he’s putting his combination in for his locker he asks, “So did you beat that level of Obra Dinn last night?”

Ned, shoulders slumping with relief, starts to ramble on about how hard it was to do and how it took him like, thirty whole tries.

They go to class. Peter zones out. He doesn’t bother making more web fluid or ditching and he gets so inside his own head that Coach Wilson compliments him again during gym class. Peter deliberately slows down after that, even if it’s kind of irritating; being physically active actually helps work off his anger.

Because that’s what he is more than anything else: angry. At the mugger, yeah, but at himself more than anything else. It was his fault that they were out that night, anyway. It’s a wonder that May doesn’t hate his fucking guts.

When school is up Peter comes home to an empty house. He thinks about going on patrol but doesn’t really feel up to it, and then he feels bad for not wanting to do it because like, what if someone is dying?

So he puts on the suit and swings from rooftop to rooftop, but there’s no action today. Peter eventually settles on a fire escape with a burrito. A stray cat hops up after a while and, despite his matted fur and crazy eyes, Peter decides he has a kind of quiet dignity about him and names him Charles.

“Do you like beef?” He asks, holding some out for Charles to sniff. The cat yowls and, without any warning other than that, nearly chomps Peter’s fingers off to get the meat.

“Ow, jeez!” Peter shakes his wrist. “I was literally giving it to you for free, but go off I guess.”

Charles blinks his big brown marble eyes and then literally jumps off the fucking ledge. Peter leans over and watches him scamper across the street, somehow not getting hit by any traffic. Sometimes he thinks his spidey sense is more like feline sense in that way: he could probably manage the same thing with his eyes closed.

After a while the sun sets and all of the streetlights turn on. Peter does another patrol around the immediate vicinity but again, nothing. He stays out anyway though because he’d rather do his Chemistry homework behind a dumpster than sit alone in the apartment with nothing but the quiet for company. At least out and about there are sewer rats and mangy dogs and shady characters who actually just turn out to be skateboarders.

Peter is almost done with his assignment when the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

He looks up and finds Iron Man himself coming in for a landing. The suit drops with a barely audible clunk; it’s Mark 54, the sleekest and most lightweight model yet.

“Oh thank God,” says Tony’s voice, “you’re not dead.”

Peter frowns even though Tony can’t see it. “No,” he agrees slowly. “Why would I be dead? What are you doing here?”

“Well, your aunt called me in a panic at around four when she got home and you weren’t there, and then I checked the scanners and saw that you’d been here, completely stationary, for like five whole hours—needless to say I had a little bit of a heart attack and here I am, relieved and also mildly infuriated. Care to explain, young padawan?”

Peter opens his mouth to speak. Closes it. Opens it again and, “It’s four AM?”

“Four fifteen,” Tony corrects.

“I didn’t even—I didn’t know! Shit, May’s totally gonna kill me, I might as well be dead—”

“Woah woah woah,” the faceplate lifts, “calm down, okay? No one is mad. Just, uh, concerned, I promise.”

Peter is still frantically packing up his school supplies and not really listening. He only stops when Tony gently touches him by lightly gripping his elbow. “Kid?”

Peter stares down at the older man’s hand. Behind the mask his eyes start to burn. “Ben died.”

“Pardon?”

“Ben died,” he repeats louder. “In this alley. Two years ago.”

All at once Tony’s face falls. He moves to sit by Peter on the grimy floor of the alley while the suit hovers nearby, a hollow shell, just the way Peter feels now.

“Kid,” Tony says, “take off the mask.”

“What? No, I’m in public—”

“No one’s around,” Tony says. “Just take it off, okay?”

Peter does, reluctantly peeling it back to reveal his tear-stained cheeks. Tony stares for a second and then, almost hesitantly, he wraps his arms around Peter. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I—” he chokes. “I’m just so tired. I’m tired of having to watch May be strong for me when I can’t be strong back, and I’m tired of Ben not being around. I miss him and it—it’s not fair.”

“Of course it’s not. It’s never fair. That’s why it hurts, kiddo. You’ve got all this love and no place to put it.”

Peter bites his lip to stop it from quivering and looks away, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I just feel pathetic.”

“Don’t,” Tony says firmly. “I felt the same way after my mom died and it… In some ways I don’t think the feeling ever actually went away, but uh, take it from someone who’s had a lot more time to process: no one is expecting anything from you, okay? And I can guarantee there’s not a single human that thinks two years is long enough to be perfectly fine again. You’re allowed to still be upset about this.”

And Peter is. He’s really, really fucking upset about it and so tired of holding it in. Tony pulls him against his chest when Peter starts to cry and it sort of seems like he’ll never be able to stop. There’s just so much, so much guilt and pain and all kinds of other bullshit that he refuses to lay on May.

So he lays it on Tony. And it’s surprisingly not horrible or awkward or even the end of the world.

“You good?” the older man asks, when Peter finally sobers up enough to wipe his cheeks dry and take a few steadying breaths.

“Yeah,” he says, voice ragged and awful-sounding. “Um, sorry. For freaking you and May out and ruining your shirt, I mean.”

“You know there’s this really snazzy invention called a washing machine—”

“Oh my god, shut up.”

Tony laughs and it makes Peter laugh too, and the tension between them just sort of dissipates. “Speaking of clothes,” Tony claps his hands together, “you got any to wear in that backpack?”

“Uh, jeans and a hoodie?”

“Fantastic, incredible. Throw them on, I’m taking you out for breakfast.”

“But what if someone sees?!”

“Let ’em. I’ll have Pep release a statement claiming you as my personal assistant or head intern or something.”

“That’s totally unrealistic.”

“Do I care? No. Just—okay? Up and at ’em, make haste, come on. What do you feel like, pancakes or waffles?”

They bicker about which is better the entire way to the little diner Tony choses, and Peter comes home full an hour later. May is fast asleep at the kitchen table. He kisses her forehead and starts on breakfast for her.

—

3. 

He’s thirty minutes into helping MJ study for her AP French test when she finally gets a question wrong. “‘Il n'est pas clair que’?” Peter queries, holding up the flash card.

“‘It’s not certain that’?”

He makes a pitying noise. “Close. ‘It’s not clear that’.”

“What’s not clear, exactly? That if I see one more word in French I’m gonna blow my brains out?”

Peter snorts. “No, actually it says more clarification is required on how much you like your boyfriend. Suggestions to improve that include: a hug, a kiss, both—”

“Neither?”

He pouts. “Mean.”

MJ rolls her eyes, but she kisses him first. She tastes like the Twizzlers they’ve been eating and her hands are in his hair and she laughs when he presses his lips to her cheeks and nose and forehead.

They somehow end up in an incredibly compromising position. “You know,” MJ muses, “I don’t think I’ve been studying the right kind of French.”

Peter, hovering over her (oops), nods in agreement. “This kind is definitely way better.”

She wraps her arms around his neck and he’s so consumed with this: her and him and the smell of her jasmine shampoo—that he almost doesn’t hear it.

Almost.

Peter rips away abruptly. “What was that?”

She groans. “God, you’re such a dog sometimes.”

He ignores her, sitting alert with his eyes narrowed at the window and, sure enough, there it is again: a faint, blood-curdling scream. “Someone’s being attacked or something. Maybe four blocks away tops.”

MJ squints. “Don’t tell me you can echolocate.”

“I—” Peter’s mouth snaps shut and then opens again. “I actually don’t know. Anyway, I gotta go.”

He presses a quick kiss to her cheek, throws on his jacket, and quickly ducks out her fire escape (which happens to be the same way that he came in). He slips the mask on and tosses his hood up; it’s raining in heavy, icy sheets and Peter is drenched within seconds of swinging. He remembers the first time he’d gone out during a storm; the webbing he’d made hadn’t held up because the chemical formula hadn’t accounted for the massive amounts of water-based reaction, so the biocables had evaporated as they left his shooters. Thankfully he hadn’t jumped first that day, otherwise he would be a Peter Pancake.

Another scream sounds. Peter follows it and winds up latched onto the side of a two-story brick building. There’s an incredibly dark alley below, but a quick flash of lightning tells him everything he needs to know: one man is trying to wrestle a woman down, while another is rifling through her purse. He’s also holding a gun.

“Oh, cute,” he mutters sarcastically.

Peter tries to time it right: he takes aim and shoots a web right at the weapon with the next bout of lightning, but to his immense misfortune, the armed mugger had already seen him and was aiming right back. The bullet hits Peter in the side.

“Ow,” he says, “that was uncalled for.”

He drops. His side is throbbing and hot but he ignores it in favour of disarming the guy who shot him. It’s a brief struggle but Peter ends up whacking the gun out of his hand and webbing it to the wall opposite. Then he knocks the guy out with a solid upper cross to the temple.

Peter rounds. The assailant has already fled, leaving the woman shivering but relatively unharmed.

“You okay, ma’am?” he asks.

“Me? That guy shot you!”

Peter looks down at his side which is now stained with blood. “Oh, yeah.”

He’d actually forgotten for half a second. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, he’s starting to really feel it: a burning sensation in his abdomen, an aching that pulses from his stomach to his chest. Ah. Wonderful.

A little dazed, he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about me. Super healing. Are you good? You need me to call you a cab?”

“What? No, um—the police station is like, down the block, I can go get them.”

“Are you sure? Because I can totally do that—”

“I can handle myself,” she says sharply, bending down to pick up her purse and the discarded items within. “It’s just… there were two of them and there was a gun and—”

“I get it,” Peter says, his hand pressing harder into his side as the world grows blurrier around the edges. “You really don’t want me to at least walk you down?”

“I’ll take a taxi,” she says. “You just, um, get yourself fixed up, okay? And thanks.”

“Yeah, sure, anytime! But, y’know, preferably never again,” Peter says, and proceeds to swing away.

—

Tony doesn’t expect to get woken up at two AM after only just falling asleep five minutes before, but such is life; FRIDAY’s voice bleeds through the speakers above to inform him that Spider-Man is currently rifling through the Med-Bay and bleeding from a wound on his side.

Pepper looks at him. “You heard that too, right? That was real?”

“It was real.”

They both scramble out of bed. Tony takes the lead, throwing on his jacket as he runs toward the elevator. It’s times like these when every second stretches out into an eternity; it takes maybe five of them to get from their floor to the Med-Bay, but it feels like forever.

The doors open and there’s Peter, perched on a gurney with his shirt gone and a whole lot of blood staining his side. He’s bent awkwardly, clearly trying to feel his way around whatever wound he’s got.

“Um,” Tony says, approaching, “What.”

Peter looks up and—yeah, he’s lost a lot more blood than Tony had originally thought. His face is fucking drained. “Hey,” he says, offering a jaunty wave before returning his attention to his side. “I got shot.”

“Oh!” Tony nods. “Oh, okay. What the fuck, kiddo?”

“I know, right?” Peter glances up. “Hey, Pepper.”

“Peter,” she returns. “Do you mind if I wash my hands and take a look at that?”

“If you want. It’s kinda gross, though.”

“Believe me, I’ve seen worse.”

Through this exchange Tony was already washing up, and now he dons a pair of gloves and sits on the rolling stool. “Looks like it’s through and through,” he tells Pep over his shoulder. “Could you grab a couple suture kits and, uh, the stuff?”

Pepper makes a face. “The stuff?”

“You know,” Tony says, “The Good Stuff.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh, that stuff.”

Tony feels around the area. “Do you know what kind of gun was used?”

“Looked like your standard nine mil,” Peter replies. His voice is growing a little slurred.

That’s good though, about the gun. Means there’s probably not any bullet fragments to worry about. Tony grabs a load of gauze and presses it against the wound. He checks Peter’s pulse while he’s at it and finds that it’s slowed considerably. “We’re gonna have to get you some blood, too. A neg, right?”

“Yuppers.”

Tony excuses that because after all, the kid is bleeding out on a table. Said kid actually starts to swing his legs back and forth and, yeah, that’s not gonna fly. “Do me a favour and lay back? I’m gonna put this towel right under you for now.”

Peter doesn’t have any arguments, or if he does, he doesn’t vocalise them. Pepper comes back in with the kits and drugs and, because she’s just smarter than him like that, bags of blood.

Tony grabs the vials first and loads up a syringe. Peter is pretty numb to all of it until the needle goes in. Then he frowns. “Why are you injecting me with alien blood?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “It’s not alien blood, it’s a pain killer. A serious one at that, so you’re probably gonna feel a little out of it for a while, okay?”

Peter frowns. “Is it for Steve?”

Tony tenses, but it’s only for a second. “Yes,” he says, somewhat tightly.

“Ugh. What a turd, Mr. Stark. You’re giving me turd vitamins!” Tony scoffs while Pepper laughs. Peter notices. “See? She thinks I’m funny.”

“You’re not helping me here,” Tony says to her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Here, have some thread.”

Tony sighs. “Just stay still for me, okay?”

Peter does. Pepper passes him various supplies and they work together to sew up both ends of the gunshot wound. By the time they’re done, Peter hasn’t moved once, but his eyes are open and he’s frowning.

“How do you feel?”

“Wired,” he says.

“Seriously? Bruce never said anything about the side-effects, but I figured they’d be like normal pain-killers; make you drowsy and all that.”

“No,” Peter sits up quickly and doesn’t even flinch. “I feel like I just got steroids or something. Are you—are you actually telling me that Captain America’s drugs are infused with a stimulant? What, so he can keep fighting even when he’s in the middle of dying?”

Tony blinks. “Well that was smart of dear Banner.”

“Yeah, or insane.” Peter flexes his hands. “I feel like I need to go for a run, or like, break something.”

“Let’s avoid that,” Tony says, pushing him back down. “You need to heal, not mess yourself up even more, understood?”

Peter stares. “Is it normal to see sounds?”

Pepper bursts out laughing again. “I’m sorry,” she says when Tony glares. “Really, I am, I promise. Peter, honey, how about we get you to a bedroom where you can rest up? We’ll call your aunt and explain everything.”

—

Everything is going fine until May asks, “How did you get to the Tower so quick, then?”

Peter blinks. “Hmm? Pardon?”

“If you were at Ned’s,” May says, “how’d you manage to swing all the way across town?”

Peter opens his mouth and closes it. “I, uh… well, funny story, um… I wasn’t actually at Ned’s?”

There’s a pause over the phone. Pepper, who’s holding it, raises an eyebrow. May says: “You told me you were going to Ned’s, Peter.”

His face feels hot. He hopes it isn’t red. Both Pepper and Tony—from the doorway with his hands stuffed in his sweatpant pockets—are staring. It’s almost as bad as if May were really here.

“Well I was going to Ned’s, but then I changed my mind and went somewhere else and oh—look at the time! I think we’re going through a tunnel—”

“Don’t even try to pull that crap! That’s it, I’m coming over there—”

“May,” Peter says, serious now, “you’re in the middle of a shift, there’s people dying. Just—I’m perfectly fine, I took my Captain America drugs and everything is gonna be okay.”

“But you lied to me.”

“No, I changed my mind.”

“And went where?”

“Irrelevant.”

“Peter.”

“May.”

She groans from the other end of the line and demands to speak to Pepper one on one. Tony’s fiancé grins and switches off speaker, before slipping out with a bright laugh to finish off the conversation. Tony stares expectantly. “So where were you?”

“Oh my god, not you too. You know, on second thought, I actually am completely exhausted and—”

“Uh, nope,” Tony flops down onto the bed. “Fess up.”

Peter sighs. He squirms down and covers his pillow with a head. “No.”

Tony joins him under it. “Tell me.”

Peter scowls. He rolls onto his side so they’re facing one another. “I was with my girlfriend.”

“Oooo—”

“Shush! It’s… it’s really not a big deal and I haven’t told May yet because MJ and I haven’t even really talked about it and it all happened super fast and—” he remembers to breathe, “I just… I always tell May everything, you know? But I kind of just felt like… this was something I had to figure out first on my own. Maybe it’s stupid, but I know she’s gonna be super hurt when she finds out it’s been a month and I haven’t said anything—”

“Kid,” Tony cuts in. “Calm down.”

“I’m calm,” Peter promises, because he is. He’s also just incredibly hyper and stressed.

“It’s a normal instinct to want to figure things out and define them before you start announcing them to the world. I get that. But you’re still a kid, Pete, and even if you don’t want people prying into your love life, we still need to know where you are in case something goes wrong.”

Peter harrumphs as he turns away. “There’s a tracker on my phone and my suit. It would be easier to find me than anything else.”

Tony clicks his tongue. “You got a point there.”

“I just wanted time.”

“I know.”

“But I really like her, okay? Like she’s so smart and she’s got this really dark sense of humour and she’s actually kind of terrifying sometimes—”

“Oh, the scary ones are always fun.”

They stay up talking through the night and, when the sun comes up, Pepper joins them with a tray of freshly made blueberry waffles. May arrives around the same time and, looking too tired to be mad, simply drops onto the bed with them and steals what’s left of his food.

—

4. 

Peter is on patrol when he hears it:

a soft, quiet yelping coming from somewhere down below the rooftop he’s perched on.

At first he figures he’s imagining things, but then his ears perk again. He leans over the building’s edge to find the source of the noise.

In the dark it’s hard to make anything out, so he climbs slowly down the side of the wall, squinting. There’s another yelp and a low whine, almost pained. Peter zeroes in on the sound and creeps toward a set of dumpsters; they’re so full of trash they’re overflowing, and it’s underneath a broken down cardboard box that he finds it... 

A puppy.

Now, Peter is no liar. He’s wanted a dog since he was like, a fetus. The words ‘A dog’ have been on every birthday and Christmas list for as long as he can remember. It’s only recently, in the years since Ben’s death, that he’s pretty much given up—after all, May is so overworked and they can barely afford to feed themselves. How could they afford a pet?

But also…

This is the cutest dog he’s ever seen.

It’s tiny and fluffy and brown and has the biggest, saddest eyes he’s ever seen.

Peter kind of just stands there staring like an idiot for a good few seconds and then slowly kneels down. “Um, hi,” he says, in the gentlest voice he can manage. The puppy, who can’t be older than a few weeks and looks completely starved and exhausted, whines in response.

Peter holds out his hand for the dog to sniff. It lifts its head lazily and leans forward, nose twitching and dry. “You need water, huh? Come on, I know a place.”

—

“Shelob,” Tony greets without looking up from whatever project he’s working on. “What can I do for you at… one in the fucking morning?”

“I need your help with something, but you have to promise you won’t get mad or make me get rid of him—”

“Oh, for God’s sake, what have you done now?”

“He was just so helpless and cold and small and…” Peter swallows and reveals the puppy, presently wrapped up in his hoodie. “Meet Nugget.”

Tony’s face is the epitome of Disappointed Dad. He stares, open-mouthed, and after a second his shoulders fall. “Well, fuck.”

Peter snuggles Nugget against his chest and steps closer, but then Tony holds up a hand to stop him. “Nah-ah! Not until that thing gets a flea bath!”

Hope sparks in Peter’s chest. “You mean we can keep him?”

“I mean there’s no way I’m getting near him until I know I won’t break out in hives.”

“That’s not how fleas work.”

“Do I care? No. Come on, let’s go to the bathroom.”

—

“Why do you have flea shampoo?”

Peter’s inquiry is made tentatively. They both have their hands in the sud-filled sink as they systematically wash Nugget’s fur.

“There was… an incident a while ago. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Peter stares. Blinks. “Okay. Well, I think he’s clean.”

Nugget barks as if in agreement, and so Peter and Tony lift him out of the basin and set him on a pile of no doubt expensive, fluffy white towels. Tony takes the lead after that. He’s surprisingly gentle and patient with the yapping, impatient puppy—even when Nugget tries to claw at him and shake himself dry, Tony never loses his cool.

A few minutes later they’re sitting on their stomachs watching Nugget stomp around on a blanket. There’s water in a bowl for him at one corner and a plate of chopped up chicken at another.

“I can’t take him home,” Peter says morosely after a few minutes. “May won’t let me keep him.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Where does she even think you are right now?”

“...In my bed.”

“Wow,” Tony says, deadpan. “Okay, well, I most certainly can’t keep him either.”

“What?! Why not?!”

Tony sighs. “I’m Iron Man, if you hadn’t noticed, kiddo—”

“Oh, what, so you’re too tough to look after him?”

“No, I’m too busy. I spend like, twenty-three out of twenty-four hours in a day in my shop and the rest of the time I’m on my knees apologising to Pepper and begging for forgiveness. There’s no time in-between to feed the pup, walk the pup—”

“I could come by,” Peter blurts. “Like, once a day, and I could make sure he’s eaten and play with him and stuff. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger—”

“Except to press ‘purchase’ on my shopping cart full of dog food—”

“Tony,” Peter cuts in, pleading, “please? I can’t just drop him off at some kennel so they can—” he covers the dog’s ears, “so they can euthanize him in a week when no one buys him. He deserves so much better, you know?”

Tony frowns, considering it, and Peter waits with his breath caught in his throat until, “God, fine.”

“Yes!”

“But! But! A pet is a serious responsibility, okay? You might as well be adopting a child—”

“What would you know about raising kids?” Peter asks, only jokingly, but Tony just stares and then, for some reason, smiles.

“You have to make sure he’s happy,” Tony says. “You have to be there for him in whatever way he needs, alright? I’ll set up a pen in the penthouse and you can make sure he works off his energy there, and if I have time I’ll even take you both to the park. And if he ever happens to pee on my carpet, I’m counting on you to clean it up.”

“Don’t you have, like, housekeepers for that sort of thing?”

“Yeah, but this is character building stuff.”

“Ugh, fine, I’ll clean up the pee.”

They continue to iron out the details for a while and bicker over whether Nugget’s last name should be Parker or Stark, and it’s only when Pepper walks in—still in her pajamas, bleary eyed and complaining that they woke her up—that they both decide it should be ‘Potts’.

—

5. (+1)

It starts with a headache.

He’s bent over his desk studying for a Calc test when the throbbing begins. It’s not so bad at first, but after a half hour or so his vision is swimming and he keeps having to take breaks to massage his temples and close his eyes. The equations are all blending together and he can’t think straight anymore.

Peter decides to give up right around then. After all, if he’s not gonna retain any of the information, why bother?

May pokes and prods through dinner. Peter tries to fool her by acting like everything is normal and okay and even manages to make her laugh once or twice.

Inside, dread is coiling through his stomach like an irritated snake. He knows what’s coming next; after all, he doesn’t really get sick anymore, so what else could it be?

Peter tries to sleep but ends up tossing and turning for most of the night. He falls into some kind of half-conscious daze at around four in the morning and rouses about twenty minutes later, soaked with sweat and aching everywhere.

Feeling like he’s gonna vomit, Peter kicks off his blankets and strips the sheets off his bed. He takes his shirt off because the fabric is too abrasive against his skin and it’s like he can feel every fibre tickling against it, grating and chafing. He curls up into a tight ball and covers his ears with his hands to block out the now amplified sounds of the city: car alarms, dogs barking, music playing.

Normally Peter loves the way New York is never silent. Now, he just wishes everyone would shut the fuck up for once.

When he stumbles out of his room a little while later, May is already gone. She’d told him the night before that she had an early shift and for once he’s actually grateful. Haltingly, Peter gets ready for school. He’s already skipped three days this month and if he misses this Calc quiz he’s gonna fucking bomb the class.

May would kill him.

It’s better to suffer a little than die.

Brushing his teeth makes his head spin and the minute he wriggles into his clothes he feels like a caged animal about to claw his skin off. Everything takes so much longer than normal. He doesn’t eat because the mere thought of food makes the back of his throat sting with bile.

On the train, he closes his eyes and rests his head against the cool glass of the window, trying to tune out the constant screeching of the rails. One day, on God, he will make it a personal project to oil every fucking line in the subway.

At his fifth stop, an old lady boards and all the seats are taken.

Peter swallows thickly and stands. Black spots dance in his vision and he grabs onto the overhead bar—something he hasn’t actually needed to use since he was a little kid—and tries not to pass out.

He almost misses the stop to get to school, but slips out at the last second, millimetres away from getting his backpack caught in the doors. Peter is hot all over and lightheaded as he makes his way out of the station. It’s even hotter up above, what with summer coming now and all.

Peter is late and he doesn’t need his watch to tell; Flash’s car is already parked out front instead of zooming through the drop off to run him over (which, hey, silver lining), and the majority of the student body is already inside.

Peter has to stop multiple times on his way to Spanish just to breathe. By the time he gets there he’s at least ten minutes late for roll call.

“Mr. Parker,” his teacher greets, unimpressed. “So glad you could join us.”

Peter makes a noise and takes the proffered quiz. He wonders absently why some people choose to teach. What is it, like, some kind of power trip for them?

He has five minutes to finish the quiz but doesn’t make it past the first question. Ned volunteers to collect them and stops at Peter’s desk while Professor Scott outlines today’s lesson plan.

“Dude,” he whisper-hisses, “you look like complete shit. What on Earth are you doing here right now?”

“Test,” Peter mutters dully, resting his cheek on his hand and closing his eyes. “Here you go. Didn’t finish it.”

Ned takes it carefully, holding it with two fingers like it’s covered in disease. “Do you want me to get the nurse or something?”

Peter hums. “No. Just… headache.”

Slowly Ned backs away. “Um—”

“Mr. Leeds!” Professor Scott says, loudly. Ned jumps. “Is there a problem back there?”

Yes, Peter thinks. You’re the human version of nails on a fucking chalk board. Please, for the love of all that is holy, just start on the vocab.

Only he accidentally says all of that out loud.

The whole class is staring. Flash is slack-jawed. Betty Brant’s eyes are the size of small moons.

“Parker,” Scott grits out—and Peter has denominated him to just Scott now out of reciprocation and spite; “You just earned yourself a shiny new detention. I’d like you to take this slip to the principal’s office. Please.”

Oh, thank God. At least it’ll be quiet there.

Peter stands and brushes past Ned and it literally feels like flames of hell are licking against his skin. He almost vomits. This is decidedly not good.

He takes the paper. “Gladly, good sir.”

When he’s gone, there’s an outburst of muttering that his enhancements let him hear. It only makes the overload worse. Peter covers his ears with his hands again and, overcome with a sudden wave of vertigo, ducks into the bathroom.

He barely makes it to the toilet before emptying his stomach of last night’s food.

Peter sags against the wall, panting. He keeps his eyes closed and waits for the world to stop spinning. About ten minutes later, the smell of jasmine shampoo—normally welcome—causes him to lean over and retch again.

MJ pokes her head inside the unlocked stall. “Jesus,” she whispers. The second her hands touch his body he flinches and she immediately retracts them. “Fuck, sorry. Ned said you wigged out in Spanish. I looked for you in the Principal's office but you weren’t there and... What’s—what’s wrong? I thought you couldn’t even get sick.”

“Bad headache,” he mutters, spitting into the toilet. It’s easier than explaining about his freakish mutations and how they sometimes go completely haywire, leaving him on edge and nauseous and irritable.

MJ grabs him some toilet paper to wipe his mouth with. “Did you take anything?”

“Pain meds don’t work on me.”

“Does May know? You should have called in.”

“Couldn’t. Can’t miss my test.”

She sighs. “Your final is like fifty percent of your grade and you could pass it with your eyes closed. You can miss your test, you’re just afraid of getting anything lower than an A.”

Peter is silent. “You got me there.”

MJ’s hand twitches like she wants to touch him but knows she can’t. “You need to go home. Lie down, get some rest.”

“May is working,” Peter says, “and if I have to take the subway again right now I’ll die. I really will. It’s so—the smell and the noise and I can’t sit down and—”

“Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“Just give it.”

She’s holding her hand out for it and giving him a no-nonsense expression that kind of reminds Peter of Pepper Potts on a rampage. He’s seen what happens to Tony when he crosses her, so he fishes his phone out of his pocket and hands it over.

“Hold on.”

She stands and leaves. Peter closes his eyes again. He tunes out her conversation because if he doesn’t, he’s absolutely gonna vomit again and nobody wants that.

MJ slips back inside the stall. “Okay, solved. Do you still feel like you’re gonna vomit?”

Peter thinks about it. “No.”

“Good. We’re gonna go to the nurse, okay?”

“Oh boy.”

—

Tony Stark walks into Peter’s school and finds the hallways empty. The classroom doors are shut and the muted sounds of teachers lecturing are the only signs that anyone is here at all.

He finds Peter in the infirmary, sitting on the examination table with the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes.

He’s at his side in an instant. “Kid?”

It’s surprise that gets Peter’s eyes open, but the little spider baby immediately regrets it. He flinches and sucks in a sharp breath. “Tony,” he whispers, like the name is all he can manage and the questions will have to wait for later.

Tony looks him over. There are no obvious injuries. The girl on the phone had said it was just a headache, but Tony is way more experienced with Peter’s brand of bullshit and knows there’s usually something else going on beneath the surface.

“I’m gonna go talk to the nurse and then get you out of here, okay?”

A nod.

It’s always a bad thing when he doesn’t argue. Peter Parker would start a fight about what kind of pizza to order, even if you suggest the kind he really wants, just to be a stubborn little shit about things.

Tony slips out of the exam room. The nurse looks up when he enters her office. “Oh my—Mr. Stark?!”

“Yes, hello,” Tony takes a cautious step forward as she stands. He doesn’t bother to sit. “I’m here to pick up the little gremlin in there.”

Her face flushes. “I didn’t know you’d been called, I—I figured I would just let him wait it out, you know? He didn’t want to be touched, so it was hard to figure out what was up and—so it’s real? About the internship?”

“Of course. Why would he lie?”

She opens her mouth. Closes it. “Well… you know how kids can be.”

“Do I?”

She doesn’t seem to know what to say to that.

Tony sighs. “Look, Nurse—uh, Timms—Nurse Timms, can I please just sign the kid out and take him home? He’s clearly in pain here.”

She starts rifling through her desk for a form. “I mean, I can admit you to take him home, but I really suggest you talk with the principal first—Peter was given a detention before he was brought to my ward, see, and I was—” she shakes her head. “I thought he might be faking.”

Tony stares without blinking for a whole five seconds and then, “Detention? For what?”

“I heard he bad-mouthed a teacher or something. But to be fair, Professor Scott isn’t exactly what I’d call patient.”

“Well, be that as it may,” Tony takes the form she hands him to sign, “my kid doesn’t fake. He has a condition, see. Gets uh… overloaded. Sounds, smells, it can be too much for him. Probably why he snapped.”

“That… that makes sense.”

“Yes,” he says succinctly, and hands the paper back. “You’d know that if you bothered to ask. Anyway, I’ll be going. Thanks for the help, Nurse Times.”

“Uh, it’s—it’s Timms—”

The door shuts behind him.

—

MJ was forced to go back to class. She’d argued and protested but Nurse Timms was insistent. So, MJ had relented. She’d pressed the lightest of kisses on his forehead and it surprisingly hadn’t felt that bad, and then she’d gone.

Tony Stark had shown up about twenty minutes later and it’s just when Peter’s starting to think it was all just a vivid hallucination that the smell of coffee and motor oil fills his senses again. It’s overwhelming but not debilitating.

“Kiddo,” Tony whispers, “is it okay to touch you?”

Peter cracks an eye. Everything is bright but Tony’s suit is mercifully black, so he focuses on that. “I don’t know. I don’t wanna move.”

“Well I gotta get you outta here somehow.”

“But my detention—”

“I already got you out of it,” Tony says breezily. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Tony,” Peter says, cheeks flushing. “You can’t just bribe my principal into—”

“I didn’t bribe anyone. I just explained the situation and besides, Morita’s an old friend.”

Peter closes his eyes again as he frowns. “You’re friends with my principal?”

“I’m a benefactor for your school, too,” Tony says. “But don’t tell anyone, it’s a secret.”

Something shifts in the air. Tony is sitting now. “Happy’s waiting outside,” he says, “but whenever you’re ready.”

Peter thinks about it for a few seconds and decides it’s gonna have to happen at some point, anyway. Might as well rip the band-aid off now. Slowly he takes a deep breath and manages to sit up with Tony’s help. The older man tries to avoid touching him as much as possible, but surprisingly enough the weight of his hand against Peter’s spine isn’t crushing or aggravating. It doesn’t hurt.

“Baby steps,” Tony says softly. “We’ll take you out the side door, okay?”

Even getting to the door is slow going but Tony doesn’t seem to mind. Right before they open it, Tony stops and pulls his sunglasses off. “Here, try these.”

Peter puts them on. He feels ridiculous because like, they work on Tony who was literally born in the seventies, but Peter really doesn’t dig the groovy shades. Regardless they’re better than nothing and even help a little.

The halls are empty again. Most of the students will be in the gym right about now, or the cafeteria for lunch. They don’t run into anybody on the way out and as soon as they’re in the back of the car, Peter sags against Tony’s side. He feels like he’s just run ten miles.

“Drive, Hogan,” Tony says, and then the partition glides up.

For a few seconds it’s almost completely quiet. Noise suppression tech, Peter realises, and he feels like he could cry from relief. For the first time in hours there’s just… nothing. No traffic, no dozens of students talking at once. The air conditioning unit is filtered, so he’s not being attacked with the smell of body odour and clashing perfume scents and Axe cologne. There’s just Tony and beautiful, amazing, showstopping silence.

Tony shifts a little. “Better?”

Peter nods, figuring it’s still probably not safe to speak.

“We’ll be there soon,” Tony says softly.

—

Peter doesn’t remember much after the car ride. He can vaguely recall protesting getting out of the Audi, and he remembers Tony assuring him that everything would be okay, and the next thing he knows he’s lying on his back in an utterly dark bedroom. The walls are insulated just like the car had been, so there’s just no sound, and the bed sheets probably have the highest thread count of all time.

Something shifts beside Peter and he realises Tony is there, feeling his forehead.

“What—?”

“Oh, hey,” Tony greets. “I think you might’ve blacked out there. All the noise hit you at once when we got out of the car and you just…”

“I fainted?”

Tony snorts softly. “Relax. It happens to the best of us. How do you feel, Webster?”

Peter hums. “Bad.”

“Let’s try a scale of one to ten.”

“Okay,” Peter says. “Ten.” Tony lets out a little grunt at that and so Peter elaborates, “It was at like, a twenty this morning, so.”

“Ah, I see.” Tony’s grip shifts to Peter’s wrist to measure his pulse. “This okay?”

“It’s fine.”

And it really is. He doesn’t feel like burning his skin off or anything. Tony’s hands are just warm.

“Any idea what brought this on?”

Peter shifts a little. “I uh… haven’t been sleeping a lot lately.” He swallows. “Like, at all.”

“And how long’s that been going on for?”

“I don’t know. On and off for a few weeks, I guess.”

“Jesus,” Tony sighs and pulls his hand away. He rakes it through his hair. “Kiddo, what have we said about communication? Does May know?”

“....No?”

There’s a long pause where Tony just kind of sits there thinking, like he wants to say whatever comes next carefully. He massages his temples and then: “Alright, scooch over.”

“What?”

“Make room for me.”

Peter blinks and then, tentatively, scoots over a little to allow Tony room to lie down. The older man does, arching his back a little and grunting in pain because he’s like, ancient. They’re not touching, but very slowly Peter starts inching closer again. Eventually he works up the courage to try resting his head on Tony’s chest, which is terrifying not only because it’s Tony Stark, but also because he’d rather not have his brain implode.

Nothing happens. “Your fabric softener must be like, super expensive,” he whispers, because this is actually better than the sheets.

Tony snorts. “I’ll ask Pep about it.”

Peter makes a noncommittal noise and before he knows it, his eyes are closing. For once they actually feel heavy, and the steady rhythm of Tony’s heart beat is soothing, dependable.

Tony’s hands brush lightly over Peter’s hair and then thread through it. “Too much?”

“No,” Peter promises. “Good.”

And so Tony’s fingers run through his curls over and over, gently, lightly. His thumb sweeps over Peter’s cheek once, too, and then he starts muttering in Italian.

Peter cracks an eye. “Are you telling me your grocery shopping list?”

Tony laughs a little. “My mom used to do it for me,” he says. “Something about just hearing her speak the language made me feel… relaxed, I guess. Didn’t matter what she was saying.”

Peter smiles and wraps an arm around Tony’s torso. “Tell me something else.”

“You wanna hear about the time I almost blew up a Chem lab?”

“Uh, duh.”

So Tony launches into it, speaking in a low voice and absently twisting one of Peter’s curls around his finger. It feels nice and the headache is fading fast.

Peter sleeps. 

[gojology]

Teddybears and Shitty Cards.

back to homepage pairing : yuuji x gender neutral reader warnings : minor cursing, fluff wordcount : 1529 a/n : i hope i did u yuuji stans justice .. probably not but this is rlly good for my characterization :) also i thought that gojo wasn’t as well loved as megumi/yuuji/nanami etc but holy shit i thought wrong. my megumi and nanami fics got little to no attraction, or maybe i write them horribly, idk. is gojo satoru the best husbando in jjk? (the answer is yes.) also uh.. i didnt proof read this ████████████████  100% Complete. Enjoy your game.

     “Itadori!” you yell, panting, cupping your hands together around your mouth to amplify your voice. He had asked you prior to meet with you for Valentines in this particular park, most likely because it was Valentines day.        You had to admit, his selection in nice places was clearly defined. The views from the hill you and him sat upon was spectacular, you could see the city in it’s whole. This was amplified with the setting of the sun, a hazy beautiful orangey-yellow gradient was all the eye could see from up here.       It was definitely worth the walk up the steep hill, and you took a much needed seat and breather on the painted wooden bench, pulling out your water bottle you take a long swig, wiping the sweat off your brow as you did so.       You took a quick sneak peek at Yuuji, who was humming a tune, earbuds in. Shielding your eyes with your hand, you leaned closer into his shoulder. His thumbs were fumbling with something, which you now realized was a Nintendo Switch.       “Watcha playing?” you ask, breathing in his scent. Remnants of candy and baked goods filled your nose.        Yuuji didn’t say anything back, instead continuing to hum and mumble a few lyrics, lost in his own world.       It was only until you impatiently tapped at his broad shoulders to pay attention to you. He jolted up, looking left and right before finally realizing you were sitting next to him. Taking a deep breath in, he cheerfully smiled before taking one of his earbuds out.       “Hey! You came early~ are you excited to see me?” he questioned, setting his Nintendo Switch into his backpack before picking up what seemed to be a bag right next to him.      “Of course! Why wouldn’t I be, baby?” you reply back, grinning, deciding to pay no mind towards this bag. Yuuji was quite popular, especially revolving sports or something along the lines of that. Many famous coaches had said that he possessed super-human strength, and he had been showered in contracts with sport teams not long after those few words.       In return, this caused Yuuji to be insanely busy with many interviews and pelted with multiple adult-y stuff to do, which had hurt you exceptionally. It greatly hindered the relationship between you two. Weekly visits turned into monthly, and you couldn’t bare to see him drown in all his work. He was a busy guy, but yet always so carefree, and you didn’t want that carefree childish aspect of him to disappear. After all, that was something you loved about Yuuji.       He looked up at you with a reassuring beam, and you felt yourself melt under those warm eyes. “Aww, that makes me happy, (Y/N). Scratch that, you make me happy!” facing you, he gave you a quick peck on your cheek. Your heart bursts, it had been too long since you felt that specific thing, and you give him a gentle kiss back, running a hand through his fluffy hair.       “I missed you. It’s been too long since I’ve talked to you, lovebug. Schedule is jampacked. But I met some nice friends along the way, and my coach is super nice!” he rambled on, fumbling with the handles of this mysterious bag.       “Oh? How so?” trying to make conversation, you want to appear as interested as he talked about his coach, but you were focused on his outfit and how he looked in general.        He had gotten way more stronger, you noted. He was much more scrawnier when you two first started dating, and you wondered how his cuddles might feel like. Something that didn’t change though, was his horrible fashion sense. Wearing a turquoise t-shirt with a lemon yellow jacket over it, you almost winced. Yuuji dressed like a 6th grader who had their mom pick out clothes for them.        “...And he annoys the absolute shit out of his co-worker, Utahime. It’s funny! I also met this guy named Nanami and I have no idea how my coach and Nanami are friends. Nanami always looks like he’s on the verge of murdering him whenever he opens his mouth to speak! Oh and also me and my coach made Valentine cards together and I worked really hard on it and I just know you’ll like it! Also-”       “Alright, alright. That’s a mouthful.” you sang sarcastically, Yuuji awkwardly laughed and rubbed his hand against the back of his neck, looking at you like you had caught him stealing a cookie out of a jar at 12 AM.       “Sorry. I get carried away a lot.” he says, peering into the bottomless pit inside the bag. You couldn’t quite see what was inside of it.       “No, no. I think it’s cute, Yuuji-san! I didn’t forget how you acted in the span of 1 month, why would I be dating you if I thought you were annoying?” hoping this’ll knock some sense into him, you closely examine his body language for any changes, hoping that went through his mind.       You had to make sure, the guy was dumb when it came to social cues.       “Ohh, really?” he looked up, pointer finger on his chin, a confused expression covering his features. “I didn’t know, I’ll act more annoying for you then!”       Smacking your forehead, you studied your shoes, too giggly to look at him eye-to-eye. “That’s not what I meant, idiot.”       “...What did you mean then?” Yuuji quizzed, tilting his head to the side. You really couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, you’d think that all sport players would be brutes and be masculine and perhaps... Not stupid? But here you were.       “No bother.” waving your hand as a dismissal of the conversation, you instead lean towards the bag he was holding, fluttering your eyelashes. “What’s this?”       “It’s a surprise~” he responded, obviously giddy. You felt yourself soften once more, how could someone be so cute just answering a question?        “Hey, come on!” tugging on his arm, you try to yank the bag away, curiosity killing you. His grasp was firm, and he laughed as you did so, it felt good to hear him laugh like that again.         “Okay, okay! Fine. Here, go at it.” handing you the bag, you practically ripped the handles off, ecstatic to see what could possibly be waiting to be discovered.          Inside was an incredibly large teddy bear, soft. The color was almost exactly the same shade of Yuuji’s, and you squeal, hugging the plush.          “Awww! This is so cute! I woulda never believed you’re smart enough to get a good gift for me!” you joked, he caught the sarcasm this time, giving you a confident grin. He liked the compliments.          “It’s supposed to be me.” placing a hand onto his chest dramatically. “I don’t know if you realized though.”          Scoffing, you put the teddybear to the side. “Of course I’d realize! I’m not dumb, Yuuji-san!”          “Why not? We could be dumb together! Also, there’s something extra at the very bottom that I think you’d like.”          Blinking, you realized that you had completely forgotten about the bag between your legs. Looking back down and rummaging for what possibly could be there, you pull out a card.          On the front, there’s a tacky lopsided heart, made with glitter glue. It seems there are also many failed attempts of starting this large heart at the sides of it. At the top, there’s a large, “Happy Valentines Day!” in red marker that was also uneven. Underneath the heart? A stick figure drawing of you and Yuuji, which was also... Pretty horrible.         Stifling a giggle, you open the card, eyes scanning the left for anything, you turn to face the right as soon as you deem it clear. That’s where the writing is.         Dear Y/N,          I love you very much and I know I do not spend that much time with you anymore but you still make me very happy. My coach was very nice and gave me Valentines day off because he felt bad.      I had to run to the nearest drugstore to get you this teddybear, but me and Mr. Coach decorated this together! He says he’s a very good drawer and I agree. I think the drawing is very detailed. He also helped me with the heart (we picked out the color together) and we had a lot of fun decorating. He says my handwriting looks really bad (is that true?) can you please help me fix it later? :(                                                                           With a lot of love,                                                                              Your Boyfriend and Gojo Satoru (his cool coach that helped him write this, thank me later. I have no idea how you handle this guy, but God is he such an amazing kid.)      Looking back up from the card, you look at Yuuji, who is looking at you back, squeamish. Without another thought, you kiss him, soft and light ones on his forehead, his cheeks, his lips, everywhere on his face. When you finally pull away, both of you are staring at each other fondly.        “Yes, I’ll help you fix your handwriting, dummy.”         Yuuji gave you a toothy smile that he only saved for the special ones in his life.

[ellenoir]

@doomedog and @alkalinefrog thank you both so much for asking about my baby! Of all of the Death Note characters, Near holds a very special piece of my heart. I think it's my left ventricle.

On to the soft headcanons! Requests for this are still open, so feel free to send them in!

On a side note, my Near doesn't feel much connection to gender or pronouns, they shift constantly based on immediate state of mind. Which means I will write their pronouns 'inconsistently' based on how the relevant hc makes them and me feel.

•  what they smell like 

The most prominent scent is the very specific, sensitive skin products they use. Milk and oatmeal based body wash, shampoo and conditioner. They also smell like unsweetened coffee from drinking so much, with an undertone of something sweetly musky that is very uniquely her, almost like old books and hot water with honey.

•  what their favorite smells in the world are 

They have a love/hate relationship with petrol stations, so we'll get that one out of the way first, the rest are all loved. Bedsheets on the third or fourth day on the bed, when they go from being extremely washer fresh to comfortably familiar. Raw tobacco (Watari would smoke his pipe outside the building, but Near liked the smell anyway.) Salty sea air. Peppermint or aniseed sweets. A loved ones' just removed jacket.

•  what pajamas they wear/what they wear to sleep in 

Near actually tends to take the bottoms off to sleep. The fabric twisting up around their legs is uncomfortable, and if it happens during sleep it can affect their dreams. They sleep in an oversized pajama top and briefs/panties, whichever one they're feeling more at the time.

•  my favorite ship (if applicable) and a cute hc about them 

I will ship Near with just about anyone. Mostly because I just kinda like DN turning into a big old poly puddle (thanks @resilicns for turning me onto this path lmao). Let's go SuteNia because I've been feeling their chemistry a LOT lately.

Don't get me wrong, Near likes to be held in bed as much as the next tiny. Stephen's arms help her quiet the overactive ramblings inside her skull. But I'll let you in on a little secret. They both love it best when Near is the one holding Stephen, her chin in his hair and his nose buried somewhere around his collarbone. They show each other their vulnerabilities more than anything then. Stephen shows that he's not always composed and strong, and Near shows just how much she needs him in her life. In their bed, that's their most precious moment.

•  my favorite friendship (if applicable) and a cute hc about them 

Okay so I love the idea of Near having quite a bit more respect for Misa than anyone else. Why? YOTSUBA👏ARC👏POWERHOUSE👏 (he also respects Matsuda even if he would advise him not to run into the building like that). Looking back on how Misa was caught, it was by sheer chance. A single strand of dyed blonde hair falling on the VHS tapes and being sealed inside the envelopes? That was an absolutely miniscule oversight that honestly impressed him greatly.

As for a cute hc? Misa and Near bond over the movie Labyrinth by Jim Henson. Near is absolutely enamored with the incredible puppets and costumes in the movie. Misa straight up loves David Bowie. Misa will sing along with Dance Magic Dance, loud and clear, and dance all around the room as it plays until Near can't help but start to sing and sway along. Misa holds out her hands, knowing not to touch without permission - and Near actually reaches out and takes them, lets her pull him up and start to dance!

•  a song that reminds me of them

Hrrmmmm... Hollow and Sorry About Your Parents by Icon for Hire, weirdly enough Sober by P!nk, and Teeth on a String by Stick and Poke. Yeah, all of these songs are sad, and TW for undertones of an abusive relationship on the last one. If I had to pick a nice song for Near... Oh, I know! The Show by Lenka!

•  what animal i think they would be if they were an animal 

Cat. Easy pick. Near likes to do things on their own terms and their own schedule and does not care much for how other people want them to behave at each moment. However, they love deeply and fiercely and will tolerate a surprising amount of annoying behaviour from someone who is in their pack (my beagle can almost jump on one of my cats and he adores her, despite him being skittish and not hesitating to swat when he's sick of paws almost squashing him). Enjoy to simply sit in the presence of a loved one and do their own thing compared to constant need for direct conversation and interaction. Will hiss, growl and swat when displeased and does not suffer fools gladly.

•  what position they sleep in

Loosely curled on her right side, grabbing the pillow and pulling it down towards her front, under a heavy weighted blanket. Near has her hands gently curled in front of her, somewhere between her breastbone and nose. Her legs fold up beneath her, her right leg a little bit tighter to keep her balance as the left leg falls on top. At one point, she looks at body pillows and finds the full wrap around designs. Its love at first sight. She gets one delivered and almost immediately drops off the first time she pairs it with her beloved heavy blanket

•  their favorite drink

They subsist on large amounts of coffee (small amounts of milk to offset the bitterness), but its not quite their favourite. Near loves boba! Honeydew, almond, matcha and the classic are her top choices.

•  a gift i would give them if i could

What do you give someone with everything...? I would like... If they accept it? Companionship. The fact that Near keeps working with Halle, Rester and Gevanni even years later makes me think they would like some sort of reliable, consistent company. They do have a sort of loneliness that they have to endure, the kind that comes from being the strange one, the out of place one, the one who has trouble connecting to people.

I'm not sure if I could think of anything else. Maybe make them a drawing, or find them some interesting or intricate toys they might like.

[cattles-bians]

exes au part 12

post directory

obsetress: don’t ask why i had this thought because i couldn’t tell you but

obsetress: jamie wakes up in the middle of the night one night and is like “i... had a dream. about vi”

obsetress: and dani’s like “ok baby” and just nuzzles deeper into her pillow and jamie’s like

obsetress: “no, dani, a... a dream”

obsetress: and dani’s like “oh. oh” and is immediately wide awake and bright eyed

obsetress: and is like “was it any good?” and jamie is just. already flushed so red and flushed deeper and dani just hums

em: sighs wistfully

em: i also love that something compels jamie to tell dani Immediately

em: oh the perils of begrudgingly being friends w ur gfs ex

em: jamies like um. no see i can see all these different things my brain mashed together and WHY i had this dream and danis like ok but that wasn’t my question....

obsetress: jamie finally throws up her hands “of course it was”

em: jamie: And You Can’t Tell Vi She’ll Be Insufferable

obsetress: dani, very plainly, at brunch the next morning: so vi

obsetress: jamie looks like she’s going to have a heart attack and dani lets her sweat and then just smiles sweetly “i like those sunglasses. are they new?”

em: jamie what’s the problem (nothin. indigestion)

obsetress: dani very smug n thinks she’s very funny

obsetress: (she is a little funny)

em: one of jamies many ‘oh that’s why they dated’ moments

obsetress: “fookin sick, the both of ya”

em: idk why you had this thought but i’m GREATLY amused

obsetress: skskksksks right

obsetress: jamie explaining her dream to dani in great detail afterwards

obsetress: dani sitting there nodding and hmming “oh that sounds like her. no, she wouldn’t do that. now THAT she would be very good at, you’d like it”

em: i need a moment

em: jamie thinks the dark hides her massive fucken blush but it Doesn’t

em: dani can feel her heating up

obsetress: jamie “i don’t ask you to do this” dani “you’re not stopping me”

em: dani critiquing jamies sex dream is such a fucken funny concept sjdhdkhdkdhdkc

obsetress: RIGHT

obsetress: i’m dying

em: dani: oh no that’s OOC

obsetress: she wouldn’t have a riding crop jamie, it’s 2021, not 16—

em: jamie: it’s a wet dream do u really think it’s gonna have beta readers and a three act structure

em: dani hums

obsetress: dani: well did you enjoy it

obsetress: jamie: i— dani: did you?

obsetress: jamie mumbling yeah

em: jamies like i’m gonna interrogate dani next time, see how she feels- but she forgets dani is incapable of feeling shame

obsetress: like dani wouldn’t just launch into a ramble

---

em: viola

obsetress: fuck

obsetress: yeah

obsetress: to jamie, specifically,

em: to jamie specifically andhdjhdjd

em: once again ironic jamvi has turned, in my brain, into ‘yes and....’ jamvi

—-

obsetress:

obsetress: jamie sending this to viola n vi's like

obsetress: she doesn't get it because she's convinced her taste is immaculate

---

em: anyway this is ooc even for exes au but i keep thinking abt like. jamie tryna crack how old viola is (she cant be 34 im 30 it doesnt make sense) and going through her fb timeline like. 'aha! motivational quotes. gotta be late 30s' and danis either like

em: danis either like 'you have a notebook where you write down all the quotes you like baby' OR shes like haha ok thats fair (posts another motivational quote on her fb)

obsetress: god i love that so much

obsetress: both of those dani responses are

obsetress: honestly porque no los dos if we're already going ooc

obsetress: i do think the first bit "gotta crack it she can't be 34 i'm 30 it doesn't make sense" is in character fwiw

em: obviously i was inspired by ur post in the milf channel abt viola always saying shes 35

em: big brain

—-

obsetress: this is literally just. exes au rebecca

obsetress: down to the caption

obsetress: vi and rebecca patiently staging like full photoshoots for each other every time one of them wants a pic otp: i'm not high maintenance, you're just low effort

---

em: bold 2 say that we don’t think about jamie and vi tho

em: gotta keep some sorta. presentation of respectability

em: they absolutely couldn’t date tho

obsetress: lmao ikr

obsetress: yeah no they'd kill each other

obsetress: now just thinking of silly circumstances and um

obsetress: rebecca's out of town and dani's flying back from some iowa thing jamie couldn't get away for to go with

obsetress: and viola's like "oh, just stay at ours, it's closer and i'll get you a car"

obsetress: and just like

obsetress: imagining the two of them cohabitating at vi's for a night

em: jamie sneaking around at night tryna find the bathroom and runs straight into vi in a face mask and a dangerously low dressing gown Again

obsetress: the parallels to canon

obsetress: im giggling

obsetress: walks straight into her path

em: opens a door. sees something she doesn’t want to see. immediately turns and walks away

em: god the face mask would make her look like the lady in the lake

obsetress: yeah

obsetress: vi wants to go out to dinner, jamie's just like "i'm already getting up early to go to the airport, can't we just have an easy night in"

em: what did i say before. that thing abt if ur friends w damie you will inevitably walk in on them

obsetress: god yeah

em: flip of that.

obsetress: oh GOD

em: god they would argue about dinner

em: bicker about EVERYTHING

em: dani and rebecca both make the married couple joke

em: jamie goes pale

obsetress: wait sorry i just went back to tahirahs insta post and like

obsetress: katie parker commented and was like "i love these shots of you" and she was like "thanks luv " and i'm like

obsetress: why does this....... still track........... with exes au...............

em: perdy is always a little too flirty w vis paramours

obsetress: always! except dani for whatever reason

obsetress: she's just scared of dani

em: Please

obsetress: rebecca's like "i don't see what the problem is. she can do what she wants, but you trust me, don't you?" "of course i trust you" rebecca shrugs "that's it then, isn't it?"

obsetress: anyway vi huffs n crosses her arms n pouts a little bit and is like "well i don't want her to"

obsetress: rebecca is endeared and uses the opportunity to her advantage like the top leaning switch she is

em: dani rebecca parallels: always dtf

obsetress: perdi and vi fighting and vi's like "are you even gay? or do you just want what i have?" and perdi is like "does it matter?"

em: are you even gay perdi nahdkdhdkdhd

em: perdi is like you KNOW about jamie and viola crinkles her nose bc she forgot about that and she’s starting to respect jamie as a person

obsetress: djflakdkfjldkadjLDJFLSKDFJLSDKFJx

obsetress: i screeched

em: viola: you only MET jamie because i hired her for landscaping you fucking-

obsetress: just thinking about perdita watching jamie working on some property sweating in a tank top and Deciding

em: bringing out some lemonade etc

em: haha you look parched

obsetress: smiling widely, turning on the charm

obsetress: jamie is very attractive and very swoonworthy, but perdita 100% only goes for it because she refuses to let viola have one (1) thing

obsetress: and that extends to lesbianism

em: viola's like no this is normal right. siblings competing. rivalries etc and danis like uh i’m an only child and jamies like uh i raised my brother

em: they don’t know how to tell her sure it happens but it’s also extremely fucken weird vi

obsetress: jamie: you have to tell her dani: why do i have to tell her jamie: you tell her everything dani: i don't tell her–– ok, i tell her most things. i'm not sure i want to tell her this though jamie: why not dani: she's not... she's not gonna like it jamie: So You Might Be A People Pleaser,

em: jamie: i can’t tell her. she’s only just forgotten the perdi thing. what if she remembers i’ve

em: in depth character study of viola and perdi’s fucked up rivalry

em: violas like goddamn it do i have to fuck jamie to get even

obsetress: i––

em: she decides against it

em: jamie is none the wiser

obsetress: she Considers it tho

em: jamie would die on the spot if she knew

obsetress: weighs the pros and cons

obsetress: the best part is like

obsetress: this is all post-danvi and pre-damie right so when dani n jamie see rebecca and vi at that video store

obsetress: viola's like wait.

obsetress: wait

obsetress: dani ending up with the hot gardener her sister fucked because she has bizarre jealousy and possession issues is really just the cherry on top of a shit sundae

em: the funniest part of all our very tangled lore is like

em: none of it contradicts bc it’s even funnier when it’s Extremely Ugly And Messy

em: because lesbians are just... like that

---

obsetress: exes au au where viola did fuck jamie, the video rental shop scene is 100 times more awkward

em: don’t think about it don’t think about it dont

em: i am thinking about it

em: jamie has to deal with having been railed by all three of them instead of just the two

em: it feels very uneven to her bc rebeccas a doll, dani, u don’t understand, and ur only running into one ex,

obsetress: talk about the mortifying ordeal of being known

obsetress: "wait, that's your ex?" "yeah" "dani" "what" "dani" "what" jamie's voice is hushed but a lil pitchy and a lot panicky "i think i fucked your ex" "you think?" "i fucked your ex" "you fucked her or she fucked you? because i'm sorry, baby, but i really don't think––"

em: sorry, baby, but i really don’t think-

em: SCREAMED

obsetress: that might be my fave lil bit i've ever written adlfkjasdklf

em: dani being a little too interested in jamie getting railed is like. everything to me

obsetress: jamie's already big blushing

em: a little secret between hannah obsetress and em cowlesbian but i am So thinking abt it

em: patreon exclusive exes au au

[em edit: you can imagine how long this lasted]

obsetress: no one is happy about this situation except dani, who is delighted

em: after, jamie's like. what did u mean by u don’t think that...

em: puffs out her chest

em: i could have-

em: danis like yeah but i know u didn’t did u

obsetress: dani clayton ilu

em: danis like um

em: completely unprompted bc dani ‘finishes a conversation 5 hours later’ is really funny to me

em: danis like i did tho

em: jamies like can you DROP IT

em: she’s SMUG

em: she’s so pleased w herself

obsetress: in bed with the lights off jamie's pulling the sheets up and closing her eyes afterthought

obsetress: just a happy lil hum and an "i did, though"

obsetress: and jamie knows IMMEDIATELY what she's talking about

em: dani never lets jamie live it down

obsetress: never!

obsetress: they'll be washing dishes one day "hey baby?" "hmm" "you slept with a landlord"

em: oh um. flipping the whole ‘experienced jamie virginal dani’ trope everyone loves but

em: i love the idea of dani being like hey jamie did u ever- and jamies like (grumbles) does it matter

em: dani is mentally applying a gold star to her chart

obsetress: ksdljfskdfjlsdjflksdjaf

obsetress: the gold star

em: at this point dani is absolute just tryna tease jamie so she’s like oh well when- and jamies like ok i get it

em: jamie Pretends not to be a little interested

obsetress: meanwhile vi and rebecca very matter of factly swapped stories the first day they Realized

obsetress: vibecca swapping stories and their stories complimenting each other so well that they're like well. hmm

obsetress: glad those two found each other

em: two praise kinks u say

em: ok sorry one more thought i’m thinking abt like

em: jamie staying over (idk if this is before or during damie) and viola and perdi are having yet another spat on the phone and violas like

em: no you ALWAYS do this, whatever you think you’re doing with rebecca-‘ and she barely hears some muffled sorta ‘oh, sorry, remember jamie-

em: and jamies doing the maths. hmm

em: jamies like actually i refuse to examine this further. self care

em: brings it up with dani later and dani LOSES her shit laughing

em: haha jamie you got willoughby’ed

obsetress: SCREAMS

obsetress: you got willoughby'd

obsetress: how does one get willoughbyd asking for a friend

em: yeah same asking for a friend

obsetress: dani, gigglesnorting: wait, you hooked up with... with perdi?

obsetress: (dani hates perdita because viola hates perdita and it is a deep seated hatred she refuses to unlearn)

obsetress: a loyalty strange and enduring, despite it all

em: to be fair perdi is the Worst

em: all of these characters i love to make sympathetic and then perdi is where i draw the line akdhdkhd

em: it’s funnier if she’s awful

em: like a viola that never gets therapy

obsetress: lldjfkaskldfj god same

obsetress: it's too good

em: danis like wait hold on. lemme get a pen

em: makes a silly little chart

em: if the fandom tries to make jamie into a shane the l word character i will simply take that and make jamie mortified abt her uh. well! a pretty girl is nice to her and she forgets how to behave

em: jamie's like oh sure like u don’t have embarrassing flings- and danis like yeah but i don’t interact w them on a daily basis jamie

em: also i didn’t fuck perdi

obsetress: skskskflsdflks

obsetress: "you did fuck perdi though, right? because that just be embarrassing, jamie, if she had been the one who..."

em: skgsdjhdkdhdk

em: jamie grumbles something abt pillow princesses and dani like

em: CLAPS her hands in glee

obsetress: jlsdjflkJSDFKJSDFJ

obsetress: GOD

obsetress: she's immediately pulling out her phone to text vi

em: jamies like why would u message her sister that u freak n danis like oh no theyre very open with each other it’s uh. hmm. anyway

[mirakeul]

making miracles at mirakeul’s !!!

welcome, dear @zoppzoop, thank you for supporting mirakeul’s! your match will be right with you! just step this way, and you’re good to go! pardon me for the long wait, we hope you enjoy your date ! [reader uses she/her]

matchup masterlist || event details [event status ; closed]

"baby," y/n called her partner. "have you seen this?"

midoriya izuku looked up from his seat beside y/n as he was writing down some notes from the week earlier. "a hero convention?"

y/n noticed how midoriya's eyes lit up with the prospect of seeing different hero memorabilia, not that he wasn't familiar but of course, with his partner, it would be a much better and sought-after experience.

"yeah, they'll be in musutafu for a week, at least that's what i've seen and heard." y/n grinned, showing him the event. "i heard they'll also have a meet and greet for some heroes as well as a talk from the wing hero: hawks."

midoriya was practically shaking in his seat as he grinned, already muttering about the different heroes and merchandise he could buy. "oh, wait, i didn't even think about asking you if you want to go. i mean, we could if you want to! not that i would pressure you but i would love it if you came with me! oh, but i'm just saying, it's okay if--,"

"izu, it's fine." she laughed. "i showed you because i already planned to buy entrance tickets for the two of us. granted, we might only catch the friday or the weekend panels since we have school but you know, i bet aizawa would be fine with us going at the weekend!"

"thank you, y/n!"

"of course, wouldn't miss the chance to see you all geeked out for a hero con, izu!"

the blush on midoriya's face was prominent until dinner but he was happy so he doesn't care! when the day came for the two to go to the hero con, they were decked out in a lot of hero merch, mostly midoriya. he was vibrating in excitement when he met cosplayers who also recognized the two of them from UA. y/n gladly snapped a lot of pictures, listening to midoriya ramble about the different heroes and cosplayers they saw.

they bought hero merch as well, midoriya beaming when he saw there were a number of eraserhead merch, one being a sweater with cat ears on it, with the color palette of the underground hero. they stayed a bit more, snapping a lot of pictures and a few videos to send inko. needless to say, aizawa was in it for a whole lot more when he saw what the two brought to the dorm. spoiler alert, it was the sweater!

but also, y/n could swear she saw bakugou holding an all might blanket with kirishima and his other friends in tow. she shrugged off the memory, probably nothing… nope, she just saw the blanket.

reblogs are greatly appreciated ! keep reading for a personal letter !

letter from you ;

Hi babe!!! once again! congratulations for the 700 and the 800!!!!

for the mirakeulous event <3 :

sth about me: im mostly an easygoing person, my zodiac is taurus (but like according to the astrologist person my parents saw at my birth im supposedly a libra(?) idk how this works lmao) other than that im a Mediator - INFP-A idrk what else to say so i just took a screenshot of the test thing

my likes are majorly drawing, coffee, my plants, fandom stuff (?), going to new places and shops, collecting small things, reading, amusement parks or just some adventure thing and i dont really have too many dislikes except maybe some specific vegetables????

for an s/o id probably just want them to be honest and like kinda understanding or sth? i dont really have too many preferences tbh sdfjlfd maybe if we share similar interests that would be nice? OR if they have a different interest i'd love to hear all about it so maybe someone who can kinda carry a conversation because sometimes i jsut simply cant word and dont know what to say.

as for preferences im bisexual so yeeeee anyone would be cool and if we're talking about the fandom i'd lean more towards bnha but if you've got someone very specific in mind from hq that would be cool too

a date idea i particularly like,,,,,,, bro literally anything at all sdkjlfsd but i guess just spending time with them?? like idk at a library, at home, in the kitchen, at an amusement park or where ever, in the mountains doing some hiking?? idk anythings cool so feel free to do anything at all

so yeah!!! that's all, i guess!

i hope it isnt too much dfjklsd

anyways!!!! congrats again sweetie!!!! ily!!! (im so proud of my wifey <33333)

letter from me ;

HI BABEEE <333 THANK YOU FOR JOINING ASMJHFAK i hope you enjoy this and i love you so HAHSKDH thank you for always supporting me huhu i could have never done this without your support <333 this was supposed to be like a hero museum date thingy but then i thought, why the hell not a convention HHAHAHAHA IM REALLY SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT LOVE YOU SO MUCH <33

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 1.6K~

Summary: The question— incomplete, and yet bursting with long-held curiosity— emerges from thin air while he’s about to tuck Steven into bed in the back of the van one night.

In retrospect, no parenting book could’ve ever prepared him for this one.

A Greg and Steven focused fic, set when Steven is freshly four. This is one of those I had on the poll a month or so back, ahah! Finally finished it. Apologies for the wait. The good news is that my list is now whittled down to three non-Crack the Paragon WIPS! Woo! That’s rather exciting.

There’s some brief meta rambles on the AO3 version. If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3. Thank you! <3

____

“Where’s yours, Daddy?”

The question— incomplete, and yet bursting with long-held curiosity— emerges from thin air while he’s about to tuck Steven into bed in the back of the van one night.

In retrospect, no parenting book could’ve ever prepared him for this one.

“My...?” Smiling encouragingly, he lets the word dangle unfinished in the air for a moment, and gestures to try and prompt the little tyke to continue. “My what, kiddo? My... pajamas?” he says, pointing towards each item his kid bears in succession. “My... stuffed tiger? My very own... tickle monster?!”

In the spirit of good-hearted mischief, Greg tousles his boy’s dark, flyaway curls. When he then moves his hands to tickle his sides, Steven breaks into delighted peals of laughter, squirming nonstop.

“Noooooo,” he giggles breathlessly, batting his small pudgy hands at him to stop the affectionate onslaught. “No tickles, your gem! Like mine! You ‘aven’t never showed it.”

In an instant, the small universe encapsulated inside their van freezes, and he goes momentarily slack-jawed as he struggles to process the words that just came out of his son’s mouth.

“My- w-where’s my gem?”

He lets out a low chuckle at the absurd thought— imagine that, him, having a gem of his own! Where on Earth did his kid acquire this notion? And then... his memory can’t help but drift back to a few hours earlier, when Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl spent a mission-free day with Steven on the beach, surrounded by all manners of summer tourists. Humans coexisting amongst Gems, most entirely nonplussed by their otherworldly appearances. Steven was eagerly padding across the shore in his brand new swim trunks— the pair he received for his birthday just a week ago— the quartz gem at his navel on proud display. Midway through the afternoon, though, the kiddo seemed to become strangely preoccupied by all the human beachgoers. He’d glance at people’s faces, their sternums, their exposed navels, and then scowl in confusion. At one point he excitedly ran up to a dark skinned young woman with hair like Garnet’s to give her a high-five, and returned puzzled, his lips pressed in a thin line. At the time, Greg didn’t understand what all of his bewildered, curious gawking was about, and quietly instructed him not to bother other people. But now, given this latest comment, a theory builds in his mind... oh stars, was he looking for their gems?

Did he somehow assume both from his own and from his frequency of interaction with Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl that everyone had one hidden somewhere?

Swallowing, he deliberately makes it a point to mask his nervousness about this topic in front of his impressionable four-year-old child as best he can. Oh, boy. They haven’t had this sort of conversation yet. He always kinda feared it was coming, coursing towards him like a tidal wave faster and faster with each passing moment, but never in a million years did he imagine this moment would be tonight. And now, his tongue dry as a stone in his mouth, he finds himself at a complete loss for words. As best he knows, there’s no one else even remotely like Steven in the entire universe. How does one even convey this concept to their child in terms they’d understand?

Because even if he— ignoring the rose quartz gemstone embedded flush with his skin where a typical kid’s belly button would be— looks the part, Steven isn’t human. That much is obvious. That’s simply a fact. Humans don’t glow as babies. They don’t grow so ramrod still while sleeping that they appear like they’re not breathing at all. They can’t casually lift double their body weight at the tender age of four. Not to mention, in all his years of life thus far, he’s never gotten sick. Never gotten a scrape or cut that didn’t heal up completely in less than an hour. Not once. There’s no way that’s by mere coincidence, Greg muses, there’s gotta be another reason. He’s gotta have some sort of mega-boosted immune system or something, or magically healing cells. No branch of human science can successfully justify the alien nuances of his son’s existence. He just... is. He’s a walking miracle, the light of his life.

Steven’s never been a normal child, that’s for sure.

But how is a father supposed to lovingly and sensitively explain this to innocent ears?

“I, erm- I don’t have one of those, bud,” he says slow, still desperately sorting through his thoughts to figure out what else to say about this.

The kid stubbornly wriggles free from his arms, lifting up the bottom hem of his baggy pajama shirt to showcase the glittering pink gemstone resting at the center of his belly. “But I got one, an’ Amethyst an’ Pearl got one, an’ Garnet, she- guess what,” he says in an attempt at a whisper, wide eyed as if he’s about to impart some sacred knowledge. “She even got two gems!”

“That’s right, she does have two gems!” he nods, only barely holding back his chuckle at the hilarious solemnity of his kid’s proclamation. “But Steven, not everyone has ‘em like you and them. It’s something unique to the four of you. Y’see, they are Gems, just like me and everyone else in town are humans. It’s, um—“ his speech falters as he struggles to find words someone so young could possibly begin to understand— “it’s sorta just who they are.”

The corners of Steven’s mouth turn downwards in an exaggerated pout, and it’s immediately obvious that this blind, clumsy attempt at an explanation didn’t satisfy him one bit. Greg leans back against the inner siding of the van, gently tugging at a strand of his hair as he scours his mind for any potential solutions to this parenting quandary.

Think, think, think... How does one connect this topic to things such a young kid might understand?

“Listen, uh...” he begins again, marked hesitation tinting his voice. “Pearl’s been teaching you about bugs lately, right?”

However, if Steven— bless his heart— happened to notice his heightened nervousness, he sure doesn’t let it show on his face, instead enthusiastically jumping to answer his question.

“Uh-huh!” he nods, and then proceeds to happily babble about what he’s learned, flapping his hands in front of him as he does so. “She tells me all about bumble bees an’ stick bugs, an’ these...” His brow creases as he pauses, combing his memory for the right words. “...fuzzy worms? But they aren’t worms, ‘cause they sleep for really super long and then, then they get wings and fly away!”

He can’t help but smile at his son’s animation about this subject. He soaks up knowledge like a sponge, that’s for sure. Between Pearl and him, they’ve been trying to introduce him to some of the basics lately, stuff kids his age should know. Like reading, and writing, and counting, and music, and basic science. Pearl does the math and science, (those classes were never his wheelhouse in school), and he takes care of everything else. Given, erm... given their kinda strained history, they don’t exactly collaborate on lesson plans, but so far the arrangement seems to be working out okay. Steven’s having fun, at least, which is all that matters in the end.

“Oooh, caterpillars and butterflies, huh?” he says, reaching for the thick blanket folded up against the side wall of the van. “Well, y’wanna learn a cool new thing?”

His son bobs his head, his eyes glittering.

“All those bugs you named?” he begins, unfolding the blanket for the two of them as he goes. “They’re each types of completely different creatures, or, different species, we call ‘em. And humans and Gems, they’re types of species too. And every species has something that makes them unique, different from everything else. You know how all those bugs have special things the others don’t have, like the bumble bees and their stripes, and those caterpillars’ fuzz?”

“Yeah!”

“Well, that’s what it’s like for humans and Gems, too! Garnet and Amethyst and Pearl and you, you all have gemstones, just like yours right here,” he says, tapping a gentle finger over the rose quartz embedded at his midsection. Steven lets out a small giggle at the contact. “That’s your special thing as Gems, something humans don’t have.”

“What’ve humans have?” he asks in curiosity, tilting his head.

Greg purses his lips, his fingers subconsciously massaging the blanket’s rough, time-worn surface as he considers the elements that— from personal experience— he’d consider essential to human life. “Hmm. Well, let’s see... I guess... humans eat, and sleep, and grow from babies all the way until they’re adults. Gems don’t age. They don’t really... do any of that.”

“But I can do that!” he whines, brows creasing.

“Hm?”

“I thought you jus’ said I’m a Gem?”

Greg’s breath stills upon the deliverance of this pointed question, spoken with such youthful innocence, and yet wholly capable of penetrating through every layer of his ill-formed logic. He swallows hard. Once again, he is not prepared. He likely never could be.

His son... oh, his beloved Steven. Without meaning to, he keeps ignoring the inherent humanity that sets this boy apart from the rest of the Gems. He’s similar to them in many respects, yes, but he’s also not. He’s both, but...

He’s also neither.

He’s unique from everyone, his own thing altogether. Something entirely new.

Quite honestly, the best word he can grasp at to describe him is hybrid.

And while at this present moment he has no idea if he’s doing his son a disservice, othering him from the rest of humanity at such a tender age, he figures that he at least deserves to know the truth.

“You’re kinda- uh, both, at once, actually,” he clarifies, these very words acting as a beacon to clarify a wide range of once deep-seeded assumptions in his mind. “Gem and human. You’ve got special things from both sides, how funky is that?”

“Huh.” Steven mulls this new information over, and then flashes a toothy grin. “That's cool!”

[ihopethisendswell]

The part where you get basic info on my Pokémon oc's so you don't get confused when I post about them.

This is gonna be a long post. I have like 8 total. 16 if your counting the secondary protags (my version of May and Lucas for example,which I won't be going over in detail cause I'm not insane). Might want to check my timeline 9 it's pinned or just check bulbapedia if your confused about the ages. If you have any questions feel free to ask. I hope you enjoy :)

Name :Jin Amachi

Gender: " I am nonbinary. I they/ them pronouns, but I'm alright with he/ him as well.

Age:

12( when started journey in Hoenn( Emerald)

22 by SM/USUSM

26 by SWSH

Basic info: With all things said and done, Jin is grateful for their journey. They learned a lot, even if they had to stop two extreme environmentalist along the way. They know the two meant well, but it's just too bizarre for it to happen. Though the two seem to be in a better place now. They're happy for them. They're father and them talk more now. It's still awkward, but better. They know he's trying his best, and they will do the same. It's much better than back then. But no need to worry about the past.

If anything, they're more worried about the others.

Kenji Elm

Gender: " I'm getting sudden dejavu. But I'm a boy! The best boy! Don't call me a girl, I will cry. And because I'm not one! So don't. Anyway have you heard of-" * starts to ramble*

Age:

10 when journey started in Johto( HGSS)

17 by SM

21 by SWSH

Basic Info: Kenji Elm is not the biological son of Professor Elm. He was adopted at a young age, and he doesn't know who is birth parents. Not that he cares. He's more than happy with the family he got( though he wonders when they'll throw him away like his parents did). Energetic and always willing for an adventure, Kenji is generally on the move!( He's so sorry if he's being annoying please don't leave please)

He has a vast amount of interests, but his two favorites are painting and battling. Battling is obvious, he's the champion of the Indigo League, but he always had an artistic eye. But his favorite pastime is hanging out with his friends! When he gets the time of course. He's sometimes wonder how he was able to hold the title of champion for so long though haha ( his win was a fluke he knows it he knows it) .But yeah! That's Kenji! Always there with a smile! Our little golden boy! 😁

Name: Danica Yamamoto

Gender: "I'm a girl. She/her pronouns. They/ them is cool too. Don't mind Kenji, he talks a lot." *Offended Kenji noises in the background*

Age:

11 when journey started in Sinnoh( Platinum)

18 by SM)

22 by SWSH

Basic Info: Giratina and Arcues are quite alike, the more she thinks about it. Though, the rest if Sinnoh, quite possibly the whole world would disagree with her. Giratina is " the lord of darkness". It's followers have a history of not being....the best. Giratina resides alone in the Distortion World, paying for it's past sins. Clearly, Giratina and Arcues are nothing alike.

Hm? Oh. Right. Pardon.

Danica grew up in Twinleaf town, with her best friend Barry. Those two are almost polar opposites. Barry is always moving, going fast, and doesn't wait for no one( except Danica and Emmet). Danica can go fast, possibly faster than Barry, but likes to take things slow. Both can be quite chaotic.Barry has a bit of a temper, Danica's chill. Both are cases where you should run when they are angry. Like. Very angry. The two bounces of each other well,and hang out regularly with Emmet, even with their busy professions ( Danica as champion, Barry as Frontier Brain and Emmet as a professor). Danica loves baking, and would often be making poffins and other baked treats for her, her pokemon and others ! She's also a bit of a nerd, so you'll also find her in a library or two. Her pokemon are her babies, and she hopes to have plenty of battles with them in the future!

.....

But really. They are quite alike. Both are beings of great power. Both have a following, even if one is less seen. Both are feared. They are feared greatly. Do they fear each other? Did Arcues banish Giratina in fear of the world or in fear of losing control? Did Giratina learn it's lesson after eons of being in the Distortion World? She could never tell. It doesn't really open up much, only going back to said Distortion World on its own Accord( it felt wrong to be it's "owner"). Though it do comes back, surprisingly. Maybe because she asked it to. To make sure Cyrus doesn't die in there. He still won't come out. She doesn't understand why. It's been years. Has he learned his lesson? Giratina seems to be fond of him. Affectionate. Cyrus never objects to this. So he must right? Right?

Ah, getting off topic. They're quite alike, being feared by the masses. Even if Arcues is mostly beloved. It's a god. It has such power. They're both feared. They themselves must fear as well . It must get lonely....... She thinks she gets Cyrus now.

Name: Alexis " Alex" Jones

Gender: " Um, hi? I'm just a dude. Use he/ him pronouns.....yeah"

Age:

14 when journey started in Unova( BW)

18 by SM

22 by SWSH

Basic info: It's so funny, the more he thinks about. He was so excited, despite his worries. He was going on a journey. A gym challenge. Pathway to champion. He was going to do that! With his sister and his friends! On his birthday! It was perfect! It should have been perfect! But everything just went wrong.

The bodies, the blood, the pressure to " be a hero"( intentional or not), it was all too much. Too much. Then- then he was a coward. He fled it all. Even after saving the day. It was stupid. So stupid. And the people in his life had a right to be angry. Why wouldn't they? He deserved it, really. But now things are better(?). He has a daycare to co-run, he's gradually learning his way as a pokemon medic, and he still has his pokemon( the ones that were lucky enough to survive). He's so grateful for them. He doesn't battle, though. No, he's never doing that ever again. He's caused enough harm( he hates how he stares at trainers battling). He's no good anyway( he hates how bored his team looks half the time) . He doesn't understand why people insist that he is( he hates that he has this itch, this desire). He doesn't understand why they look so disappointed when he says he doesn't battle anymore( he hates that he misses the rush, the strategy, the freedom of it all). He's fine with what he got. He's no hero.

.....Why is his aunt calling him?

Name: Evangeline " Eva" Ortiz

Gender: " Hiya! I'm a lovely lady! I use she/her pronouns, please and thank you!"

Age:

14 when journey started ( B2W2)

16 by SM

20 by SwSh

Basic Info: Eva! Eva my Beloved. Eva's fun, y'know? Always moving, helping, laughing, smiling. Life of the party! She rivals Kenji with that winning smile. Not to mention that she's a great battler! It's almost like she was born for this. Maybe she is! Who knows. But what she do know is that she's Unova's Champ and she gotta defend her title! And protect her region! Though she probably would have done that without the title anyway haha! Hmm what else? Oh! She loves technology! For some reason that surprises a lot of people that don't really know her, but she does! She's a bit of a tinkerer if she do say so herself. She likes it when people compliment on her skills it makes her more confident in them. Even Col-

No.

....

Ahem.

Anyway she's pretty talented. But that comes from a lot of hard work! And luck. But lots of hard work.( And also luck). Aaaah, that should that's it? Well, she does tend to be distant, b-but she's busy, yeah? Don't worry about it. Oh! One more thing. It's not really a big deal, just a random fact.

She hates the cold.

Name Jude Bellrose

Gender: "...... Why do you care ?" ( E: Jude don't be rude! Al: No no, she has a point.) *Ooc: Jude is genderfluid. Right now, in this post, she's using she/ her pronouns, but she also uses he/him and they/them*

Age:

18 when journey started in Kalos( XY)

20 by SM

24 by SwSh

Basic info: Death has a way of teaching you things. Jude learned a lot from it. She learns to not take it for granted, both death itself and the one that is dead.She learns to be humble. She learns to be kind.

Jude was, and still is, prickly. She's not rude my any means, unless she is, but she's just hard to become friends with. She used to have this philosophy of trainer and pokemon; they should be no emotional bonds. They're not here for that. They're here to win. And she did. Until she didn't. Her first pokemon died. It devastated her. Her pokemon, surprisingly, comforted her. And then another one died, and her pokemon comforted her again. Star, her Staraptor, was strong. So strong, and yet it died, and she cried and get pokemon cried with her. She never felt so loved. Not saying that her mother doesn't love her, the opposite really, it's just things have been....complicated. Couple that with strangers turn( begrudgingly) friends, and Jude's heart turned all warm inside. Not that she'll ever admit that outloud.

Jude is a kind person, despite her prickly nature. She loves the world around her, loves her friends, loves her pokemon. She respects death, despite the pain she causes her. The world itself of beautiful as it is, which it's such a shame that a capitalist fool a certain someone couldn't see that way( poor Sycamore).

Jude is a good trainer, despite her loss. She knows this. She'll prove it too the moon and back. If only a certain someone thought the same for himself.

Aster Mahina

Gender: "...." "Mizzz Aster is a girl! She uses she/her pronouns! Zzt."

Age:

11 in SM, where her journey started

15 by SwSh

Basic Bio: Aster doesn't hate Kanto. She doesn't. She was born there and lived there for 11 years. She just doesn't want to back. But she has to, cause she's " the first champion of Alola and as champion" yada yada yada. Like. She gets it. Being Alola's first and currently only champion, you gotta make an impression. She gets that. She still doesn't want to go. Even when she's been there, like, 4 times now. There are some good things in Kanto though. Lillie is there. And seeing Lillie physically is always a plus. She also gets to see Uncle Red, Uncle Green, and Aunt Blue. Kenji, while not living in Kanto, is champion of the Indigo League, and it's always fun with Kenji( she loves his art). But. Like. She still doesn't want to go.

But she also likes being Champion. That means she's strong. And since she's strong she can protect her mom. But she can't protect her mom when she's all the way in Kanto! What if he comes back? What if goes to Alola when she's away? She knows that her mom is strong, she knows that but still!

No. No it's okay. Her mom is strong. Lillie is strong. Gladion is strong . Hau is strong. Guzma is strong. They're all strong. She's strong.

She is strong.

Name: Naomi Einar

Gender: "I-I'm a girl! She/her pronouns please!"

Age:

15 in SWSH, which is the start of her gym challenge in Galar!

Basic Info: Hop is pretty convincing, she realizes. Or maybe she's very weak willed. " Let's do the gym challenge together!" He said. He had that look in his eye. She couldn't say no. Or she could, but that would make him upset, and that's the last thing she wants.

If she's being honest with herself, she's scared. She doesn't like big crowds, the attention. They'll be so many eyes on her. So many. A-and then there's Lee and her cousin, Alexis. Hop has made her sit down and watch almost every single match Leon has had. He's an amazing trainer. A-and her mum would tell her stories about Alexis. He was a hero! He stopped an evil team and everything! She can't live up to that! She never even battled before, why would Hop-

No. It's okay. It's okay. She- she'll just quite after failing the first gym. She can handle the embarrassment. And then she'll cheer Hop on when he wins against his brother. Yep. She'll do just that. Okay. Okay.

.....

Everyday, Slumbering Weald seem to intrigue her more and more. It's almost like it's calling her. Da?

No. It- it'sprobably nothing.