#the littlest man known to science

[marvellouspinecone]

Having a blorbo is like. He's so small. I wanna put him in my pocket and squish him like a stressball. I take him out of my pocket and he's covered in dust and lint and shit so i run him gently under warm water and put on my dresser to air dry. And then i HEY what are you doing here NO stop that get down right now!

So my cat smacked him off of the dresser and now he's all dusty again

[grayishgiggles]

Study Buddies

The General Education Development test…also known as the GED; that was what Peter 1 had plopped on his desk. Well, it wasn’t the actual test, but the giant $180 practice book he had purchased. While it originally felt like a poor financial decision to him, it would probably give him a better shot at a college acceptance than going into it blind. He turned a page, glancing at the next question. Peter 1 stopped halfway through as his thoughts got in the way. He glanced to the right of his desk, in which a small Emperor Palpatine LEGO figure stared back.

Usually Peter and Ned would spend their Sunday nights over the hulking textbooks, scribbling on flash cards and quizzing one another with the sound of a show in the background. At the time it was hectic—oftentimes the test they were studying for was the next day—but he would do anything to feel that again. All the little Peter could hear now was the humming of a rickety radiator in his apartment. It was too quiet…too lonely. He always hated studying alone.

But now was not the time to think about that stuff. He had his phone’s stopwatch ticking away.

Returning to the open book, he filled in the bubble on an answer, hopefully a correct one. He was too far behind to think twice. Just a few more problems left…and he could be finished on time.

Intermolecular forces? He should know that, right? He took AP chemistry.

A refractory period…he swore he knew that answer too.

Peter 1 bit his lip and put random answers down for those just so he could finish it. This was a practice test after all. The screaming alarm from his phone timer made him hit his knee against the desk when he jolted. “OW!” He was quick to silencing it.

And now…the moment of truth. Peter 1 held the page of completed answers between his fingers as he flipped to the back of the book for the correct ones.

Oof.

He didn’t do good.

Peter 1 slumped in his chair. He suspected his smarts would be a little rusty after not having school for a solid five months now. Nonetheless…he was disappointed in himself.

With a pout, the spider-man took his phone out and was greeted with a text from someone: Peter 2.

Why’s the old geezer up? Snorted Peter 1. He opened the text:

I just got a tingle that came through. Not sure where it’s from. Are you ok? Are you safe?

The littlest Peter’s heart fluttered. Oh come on…he didn’t wanna alert the big bear now, not over something so minute.

Peter 1’s thumbs hovered over the phone’s little keyboard. Maybe Peter 2 would think it was something else that caused the tingle. There was always a bank robbery or a building being damaged by a weirdly costumed villain anyways. No biggie.

So Peter 1 closed out of the message app, and turned his phone off. Setting aside the text, he picked up his pencil. Time for take two.

Thankfully this practice test was more merciful to him. Peter 1 felt he was flying through the first few pages. He caught himself grinning at one point. But he got confident too soon and ended up stuck on another science section problem.

How many damn systems were found in the human body again?! Was it seven?

A sudden woosh from behind made the hair on the back of Peter 1’s neck stand. He spun around to be met by that familiar portal.

God dammit.

He knew exactly who those two taller figures were in front of the orange pulsating gateway. Peter 2 and 3 stepped through, with the portal closing behind them. Their arms were crossed like dads watching a very intense baseball game.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Why did you leave me on read?” Peter 2 approached closer.

“Wh-?”

“Peter 3 says it’s bad news when someone leaves you on read!”

“Well I-I forgot to reply, I’m sorry.” Peter 1 pulled out a fake smile. “Everything’s alright.”

Peter 2 didn’t believe that, crinkling his eyebrows together. “Are you sure?” He asked, his eyes caught by Peter 3 leaning over the youngest’s messy desk. “Oh boy, what’s going on here?”

Peter 1 grimaced and closed the giant test book. “It’s…school stuff.”

“That’s a GED manual!”

“I know! I’m just-I’m just trying to study-!”

“Do you need any help?”

“I’m fine! It’s nothing!” Peter 1 held his hands up, silencing the concerned older brothers. They exchanged looks while Peter 2 knelt down next to him. “Look at me, bud.”

It took a lot for the littlest to finally meet his brother’s kind blue eyes.

“I don’t get the tingle for little things. Clearly this is important for you. Let us help.” Peter 2 gave a soft smile. “Studying alone isn’t fun.”

With a small sigh and a shrug, Peter 1 nodded. “Okay. Well…I-I dunno where to start.” He watched the middle brother pick up the giant manual and flip around the pages curiously. Peter 2 stood up to check it as well. “What section are you struggling with?”

The youngest looked down, ashamed that he was going to let these words leave his mouth. “Science.”

Peter 2 blinked. “Science?! Our best subject?” He asked, glancing at Three, his mouth ajar.

“Yeah I’m...not proud of it either.”

“Hey-Hey! It’s ok! You’re just, ya know, going through a lot…” Peter 3 mumbled with a sympathetic shrug. “I know I like using quiz websites a lot to study. You wanna try that?”

Peter 1 shrugged. Quizlets and Kahoot games didn’t do much for him.

“That’s cool, it’s cool. We’ll just…uhhhhh…” the middle brother glanced at Peter 2 for any ideas, surprised to see him so calm.

“I got some things we could try,” he craned his neck to look for something on the desk, “uhhhh…you got flash cards?”

The littlest blinked out of his sad daze. “Oh. Yeah, yeah I do.” After opening a drawer, he handed a multicolor pack to him and a pen. “I didn’t think of those, heheh.”

“Well,” Two clicked the pen a few times, “since the science section has different units it covers—chemistry, anatomy…”

“We could use the different colors for different units!” Peter 3 finished, stealing some from Two and making him glare playfully. “Care to ask next time?”

“No.” The middle brother stuck his tongue out, happy that the funny arguing made the little brother giggle. “Okay, Uno, it’s floor time.”

It had to take them at least an hour. Dozens of cards, written and unwritten, scattered about the hardwood and surrounded the trio. Peter 1 propped himself on his elbows as he wrote, kicking his legs, while Peter 2 sat crisscrossed, and Peter 3 laying on his side. Two’s pen died halfway through, but the man found a sharpie to make up for it.

“Ok ow, I need a break…” One tapped out, flexing his hand. “I’m gonna develop arthritis.”

Two chuckled. “If anyone’s developing arthritis, it’s me.”

“It’s ok, bud. We’re almost done!” Peter 3 held up his last two empty cards. “See?”

“Oh thank god! Ugh!”

“So should we come up with a reward system?”

Three paused his writing and raised an eyebrow. “A what?”

“I use a reward system when I study to keep me motivated,” stated the oldest, placing a newly written flash card in his “done” pile, “like when I get so many correct answers I add a minute to my TV time or something. It tends to help me. Maybe it’s worth a try!”

The now laying down Peter 1 held a thumbs up at that, “I dunno what would work though…” he sighed and dropped his hand.

Peter 3 cheered quietly as he finished his last card. That’s when it hit him. Nothing could stop the tall man’s smile from growing. “Hey Two…”

“Ye-wH??” The oldest’s arm was yanked, spinning him around, now in a huddle with Peter 3. He whispered, “what?”

“I just need you to hear me out.”

One’s eyes were closed initially, but the hushed whispering across the cards were too loud to be ignored. He sat up. “What’re you hiding from me?”

A pair of blue and brown eyes peeked up from their secret big brother meeting. “Nothing!”

“Then why’re you whispering?”

Both fell silent, then shrugged.

“If you’re thinking about water boarding me as a reward system, I won’t have it.” Peter 1 crossed his arms playfully.

“No no! It’s not that, I promise!” Three broke from the huddle with a chuckle. “It’s even better than that!”

“Then what is it?”

No words were said with what came next. One moment the little Peter was watching his brother exchange another look, then the next moment he was thrown into a mass tangle of limbs. If he knew better he would’ve assumed it was a hug, but he felt four hands grab at his extremities. This was no hug. All that could come out of his mouth was a “WAHHH!!”

The next thing he saw was his big brothers looking down at him. Three adjusted his seat on the boy’s legs as Two wrestled his arms above his head. “Oh noho no no no no no not this I know what you’re doing!!!” Squeaked out the captive.

“Then you know the rules: get a question wrong, and you’re tickled!” The oldest said, sitting on his wrists and grabbing his handful of flash cards. “Let’s start with an easy one…”

“Oh! Wait! Lemme do this one!” While the oldest flipped through his cards, Peter 3 had already found a good starter. The pink-faced Peter groaned once Three began reading:

“One of two or more alternative forms of a gene that arise by mutation, found at the same place on a chromosome.”

Peter 1 only smirked at the definition. “Easy! An allele.”

“Ya got it!” Peter 3 cheered, flipping to a new card. “Your turn, dos.”

“What’s the difference between prokaryotes and eukaryotes?” The oldest peered over his flash cards to smirk, only to be met with another smug look. “Oh come on now. You’re going too easy on me.”

“I guess you got it covered then, hm?” Two looked to Three. “Let’s hit the road! Looks like he’ll pass with flying colors!”

“You got it!” The two men loosened their hold as if they were going to free him.

“WAIT NO! I-I wanna study with you guys!” The panicked spidey grabbed at Two’s hand. “Just gimme harder questions!”

They chuckled as they settled down into pinning him. “Okay then, get a heavy hitter, Three.”

“Hmmmmmmm…” flip, flip, flip, went Peter 3. “Ah! Physics! You remember physics, right Peter 1?” To add to the teasiness, Peter 2 ever so evilly held his clawed hands over the boy’s underarms.

On the outside, Peter 1 was giving him daggers, but on the inside he was one teasy comment away from giggling like crazy. “…yes, I know physics.”

“Then this should be niiiiice and easy,” the lilt in Three’s voice did not help Peter 1’s composure, nor tingle. His spidey sense kept buzzing in his head.

“Can momentum be hidden to human eyes like how kinetic energy can be hidden as heat?”

Peter 1’s eyes bugged out. “What kinda question is that??”

“A physics question!”

“Alright uhh…ummm…” Peter 1 didn’t like how his brothers smirked down at him. “Ohohoh god.”

“Ten seconds.” Two stated.

“UHH UM..UH…” that’s when the giggles flew out like crazy. “Hehehehehe-!! I-IHIHihihi-! Uhuhuh-!”

“EHH! Wrong!” Peter 3’s fingers darted to his sides and squeezed. Peter 2’s pair of claws dug into his armpits at the same time. A shrill squeal leapt out of the youngster’s mouth. “The answer was yes AND no!”

“YOHOHOU ASSHOHOLE THAT WAS A TRICK QUESTION!!” He hiccuped. The attack let up only a few seconds later, but he could hear his brothers continue their snickering. “Shuhuhut up!! Next question!”

“Okahahay okayyyy…” The oldest cleared his throat. “H-Hohow about an anatomy question?”

“Fihineee…”

“Which artery is the main source of blood for the arm?”

Oh come on! Peter 1 knew this!

Not the ulnar artery or the radial one…no it was from the biceps. Biceps brachii. Something with brachii. Shit. Three’s wiggling his fingers. Shit shit shit what was it called?! Shit don’t look at him!! Stop wiggling your fingers!!

“Brachii artery??”

“Oooh…so close.” Two sucked his teeth with a curled up grin. “It’s actually riiight here.” His fingers wiggled down his bicep and earned a string of giggles. “EEheheHEHEY!”

“That’s the brachial artery! You were close!”

“What a shame!”

Peter 1 squealed at Three’s fingers getting his other bicep.

“DAHAhahammit I knew thAHAT!” Peter 1 tugged at his hands, but they didn’t budge. Two’s nimble fingers were beginning to drive him nuts though. They kept getting close to his armpit. “TWOHOSTAHP!”

“Did ya know that armpits are ticklish cause they have big arteries?” He stopped the teasing and swirled a finger in each hollow, loving the wriggles and cackles that came out of it. “SHUHUTUPSHUTUP!”

“Wow, I didn’t know that, Two!” Three jokingly added, watching the panting brother and reshuffling his cards. “Let’s see if he can get the next anatomy question, though.”

Sadly, he didn’t get that one correct either. It was over the series of arteries in knee joints. Of course Three picked knees.

“PLEHEHEASE-!” He snorted and threw his head back. “ITTICKLESSTAHAHAP!”

Two was struggling to keep him still. “I don’t think he hears you, buddy! Shouldn’t have gotten that answer wrong!”

“Did someone say something?” Three turned around innocently. His back was facing One and Two as he was kneading at his knees. “Oh! Does he want me to stop?”

“YES!”

“You could’ve just said sooo!” He cooed, the punishment halting. “What are you at right now… 1 to 2? Not a good score.”

“Nehehext question!”

And so the game continued.

“PFFTNAHAO WAIT WAHAIT I CHANGE MY ANSWER!”

Well, in the older brothers’ eyes, this was a game. They couldn’t pass up an opportunity to hear the baby bro laugh like a little hyena.

“Equilibrium!”

“Correct!”

“Wow, you’re like 11 for 8 now!”

“Shut uhuhup.”

Entertainment aside, Peter 1 started to get the hang of it.

A locked away part of One’s brain was starting to give now. His freshman biology class…his honors physics…thanks to his big brothers, he remembered what those classrooms looked like in the midst of desperately grabbing at lost  vocabulary.

“External illiac?”

“EHH! Wrong!”

“BWAHAHA NOOO!”

Most of the physics stuff came back easily, but he didn’t have as much luck with anatomy. It kept giving his big brothers an excuse to tickle him in his bad spots.

“Which artery is the main source of blood for the arm?”

Peter 1 was recovering after another wrong answer when the question repeated. “W-Wahait…I know that one.” He took another breath. “B..Brachial artery.”

“Correct!”

“WOOO!!”

A relieved smile took over the boy’s face. “Oh thahank god…”

“See? You’re doing great!” Two cheered, pinching his cheek. “You hanging in there?”

“Y-Yeheah I’m okay.”

“Ya need a break? We’ve been at it for…” Three checked his phone. “30 minutes.”

“No I’m...I’m good! Let’s keheheep going!”

The fluffy haired brother and clean-cut haired brother shrugged at one another. “Alright then.”

The amount of cackles and squeaks diminished after each run through of the deck. There was always one or two questions that continued to stump him, but that only incentivized the little Peter to keep pushing forward.

This was helping him, a lot.

“Okay big man…final question.”

“Wh…really?” Peter 1 looked up.

Peter 3 nodded and smirked. “Get this question wrong, and we tickle you for 20 minutes!”

“Why???”

“Because you haven’t gotten a single question wrong this time around!”

The youngest spidey blinked. “…really?”

“You’ve made some real progress.” Two sounded genuine in his remark. “It’d be a shame if you got it wrong.”

“Wow. No pressure there.” One scoffed and smiled. “Okay, okay. Hit me.”

Three held up the single neon pink card and cleared his throat dramatically. “What is the correct sequence of blood flow?”

Peter 1 took a deep breath and thought for a second. “Pulmonary vein…left atrium…left ventricle…and aorta.”

…

Peter 2 and 3 were silent.

OH COME O—

“Correct!” They cheered in unison.

A loud sigh of relief came out from Peter 1. “Jeheheez you scared me!!!”

“Wanted to make it dramatic! Look at you, smarty!” The middle brother ruffled up his curly hair. “You did it!”

“Very proud of you, lil guy.” Two proceeded to climb off of his arms, and the youngest sat up. “C’mere!!” He was caught in between two pairs of arms. At least he was aware this was a hug this time.

“You won’t forget those answers now, right?” Three chuckled and looked down. “Right?”

Peter 2 glanced down as well. “One?”

The little Spider-Man’s smile had faded, replaced by a small frown. “Mmm.”

“What’s up, buddy?”

“I kinda…miss the tickles from the beginning of the game.”

Two and Three cooed, not in a teasing way, but in affection.

“You wanna have some tickle time then?” Three pulled away from the hug to make eye contact. He smiled at the blushing response he got. “Awwww someone deserves a lil tickle for studying!!” That comment sent him over. Now there was a flustered and giggling Peter 1 between the big brothers. Two practically melted.

“You’re sure right, Tres,” Two kissed the top of his head. “Let’s tickle him as celebration! Come on, One, lay down!”

“Nooooooo stahaaaaaap!”

“Come onnnnn!” The brothers cooed together, cheering softly when the kid obeyed. He was half laying down. He kept his legs to his chest anxiously. “Heyyy you’re hiding the good spots from us!”

“Then we just gotta dig!” Peter 2 growled, plunging his hands between where One’s legs and chest met, searching for his belly. He was very pleased at the loud squeaks that he got. “EENAHATTHAT GEHET OUT!”

“You want tickles? You get tickles!” Peter 3 didn’t hesitate to join, prying at his legs.

Eventually they cracked open the clam of Peter 1, grabbing for any tickle spot available to the two. The wild tickle attack had only just begun, but Peter 1 couldn’t be happier.

He’d have to use this study method for all his exams.

[juni-aldaine123]

AD ASTRA/ snf ; himfri

✎ title is a latin phrase which literally translates to: to the stars

・❥・not beta read we die like himmel . oneshot . fluff . light- very very light angst . stargazing . maybe a bit ooc frieren? . no spoilers . soft himmel and frieren . whipped himmel (when is he not?) . basically a word vomit to compensate for my absence here for quite a while

༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈•༶

Frieren finds herself sitting under the richness of the night and the heaviness of Himmel's arm wrapped around her shoulders as he excitedly chatters away about stars and constellations and astrology and all the deep talk of cosmic wonders Frieren has limited knowledge of.

But she still makes a show of listening; she doesn't want her disinterest to dampen Himmel's smile that's always adorned with childlike delight at the littlest of things. When she wears out whatever false curiosity she'd mustered she turns her gaze at Himmel instead, and watches how his big grin shrinks into the ghost of a smile.

He whispers to her, voice sombre, "It is said that loved ones we've lost watch over us-" His breath caresses the shell of her ear like a humid breeze. "-like the stars that decorate the heavens."

He points at the dark expanse hanging over the landscape of a small village they witness, while sitting at the edge of a forest at a higher point. "Their souls turn into those stars and light up our path to lead us to our destination- wherever it rests waiting."

"You were telling me the names of some commonly known stars and now you say they're a manifestation of spirits of your ancestors?" And truly, before- when they'd just sat down on the grass comfortably, the bonfire set behind them by Heiter and Eisen heating their backs- Himmel had meticulously charted the stars for Frieren by just using his words.

"That's Sirius, the brightest star known to man as of now. Betelgeuse and Procyon-" He'd taken her hand, along with her attention, and guided it to point at the direction he was looking. "-form a triangle with Sirius, called the Winter Triangle."

Then he made her trace a shape in air. "And that's the constellation, Orion."

"That," Himmel chuckles- the sound jolts her back to present- and emphasises his point. "Is the difference between science and philosophy." Frieren unwittingly pulls her lips into a pout at her lack of understanding. Or maybe it's just Himmel talking in riddles like he often does with her.

"It's just a saying, Frieren. Surely you what that means? I've told you before," His voice calms her, his patience never wavering.

"You have, but it's a foreign concept for elves such as me- sarcasm, expressions, idioms, and what not. It may take some time for me to catch on."

"And you've plenty of that," he retorts back, not unkindly. Then- silence ensues.

That Frieren breaks by voicing a question that itched her for a while to ask. "What star do you think you will be?"

"I believe you can give a better judgement regarding that. What do you think?"

"You'll be the brightest star for me." And unbeknownst to her, Himmel's heart also beats the brightest of all hearts that instant at her admission.

"Or maybe the guiding star. The one sailors seek to navigate their way at sea." Frieren may lack enthusiasm but she never forgets her lessons. Despite listening only half heartedly Himmel's words reached her mind with his gentleness.

"I can be both, if you want."

"You will. You're your own star." Himmel feels his cheeks redden at Frieren's heedless but sincere confession, and reins his traitorous heart into compliance before it influences his mouth to spill desirous secrets about the silver haired elf he guards cautiously.

'My star,' Frieren thinks proudly in the chambers of her own mind.

She unceremoniously plops down on his lap like she has done on countless nights, each time leaving Himmel flustered who- despite such frequent intimacies- can never get used to it, especially if it's Frieren initiating the touch. Frieren doesn't mind him, like always, and continues by speaking her thoughts.

"But how will I know which one is you? How will I find you amongst this infinity?" Seeing her viridian eyes zone upwards, at the sky, remind Himmel of a pond basking under the celestial brilliance of twilight- the green of undisturbed waters reflecting the bewitching beauty it sees above itself. Himmel, as he looks down at her- her face- loses himself in the changing shades of her eyes as light angles around the corners.

"You'll just know. When the time comes."

"I don't want it to ever come then, because that'll mean you're gone."

"Death is inevitable for humans, Frieren," he declares with easy acceptance.

"I know that better than anyone else." Frieren huffs, then shifts in his lap- head now on his thigh- and stares straight ahead at the village that is now slowly settling into the night after a day's hustle and bustle. "Doesn't mean I like it."

"Worry not. It won't be anytime soon," He assures her.

"I shall not allow it, anyway," she affirms.

Frieren doesn't move from the comfort of Himmel's warmth till there's a call for dinner from Heiter.

[golivefest]

How i Stop Death with... my Uncle Jimmy

by +

'i wanna thank u 4 helping me reach the understanding'

My uncle Jimmy inspires me to protect black women in a world w/o police when i think about how he took care of his daughters, wife, sisters & mother. Despite others' oppression, aggression & depression he provided for them every moment of the day. Generations came out to celebrate his life... it says everything that his transitional thoughts and experiences were with his eldest granddaughter and youngest daughter. Lucky man.

i always put black women first and i've never known a guy other than my uncle who woke up and went harder for our queens. 💜🔊

My Uncle Jimmy reminds me to raise #reparations for free homes + fresh food when i think about one of our own final memories showing him a peapod before it headed out to our free food forest on 79th. Later he would pop up while i was at my granddad's. i think his father and i talked about trading raw veggies, i probably took home some tomatoes & peppers while they shared recipe secrets and such. i also cherish planting seeds with a grandson of Jim's, my cousin's son, when he was a toddler. Handing down agricultural knowledge to black men is the greatest gift, something i could only experience through these legends on my mother's side of family. 🖤

My Uncle Jimmy inspires me to #StayHome and end the virus when i think about the symptoms of his passing. Calling in close friends after provided the largest support for the #COVIDstrike ⬛ petition to date. But for years i feared this day would come. Knowing he had no choice (as a King in the so-called Sandwich Generation) to be there for his four daughters, own parents, numerous grandbabies and everyone else a black village holds. i cringed and worked harder hearing about him getting sick over and over, his housemates being holed up with COVID when he didn't have it, knowing how no matter what kind of cough lingered it paled to the necessity of having to check on my grandparents to make sure they were ok, ate today and bringing them food if they haven't. In-between picking up and dropping off 3 other generations of people.

When folks started talking about frontline workers, they didn't mention community caretakers like my uncle. When #cynical folks decided it didn't matter if the elderly or very young passed away and decided to keep going to work and school they signed a death certificate not just for folks with disabilities, like my littlest cousins or my oldest living ancestors. But for everybody, all of us in the middle. COVID tore the heart out from my family. And i can't lie and say we're just going to persevere. We won't, without more folks joining in to change the status quo. i've seen the decimation of families around us & i just want to see mine safe.

Jimmy reminds me to go live and use celebration to stop death. Wiz Khalifa's "See You Again" is one of the biggest rap songs ever and he's one of my favorite rappers meanwhile "We Dem Boyz" is the song of his that was mentioned at my uncle's funeral. He lives on through another man's work, on its waves. We are all dem boyz. And it's black art that gives me the confidence to say i hope i will see him once more. Not in a fictional heaven but in a science based paradise. If we can isolate DNA and consciousness, regenerate or redirect what life is. Every day i will wake up and do the #After12 💜🔊 worksheet tapping in to bring resources together, go live, build utopia and stop death.

After i wrote a previous personal essay about leaving my mother's my relationship with my Uncle was somewhat colder. i was one of those blackballed for calling out #YCAharm 💜 after years of fighting as a queer man to be respected and i came home to folks not calling me by my chosen name. A lack of respect for my choices i felt was further forced by me foregoing the accolades my peers accrued. Jim was a sensitive boy, protecting these women since before i was even here. He never called me by my true name but still: we had love. My mother has been sharing a happy essay i wrote 20 years ago about us. And i remember how his hands felt this last time we broke bread. Until i see him again, i will take care of his granddaughter's world. With all you.

*

How are you building utopia? How does pop culture inspire you? Leave a message or tag us in a post to be featured in the Utopian Canon~*

[matteolin0711]

Gerard was a 50-year-old man who had achieved great success in his career and physicality. Throughout his life, he worked hard to become his best version. He put in long hours dedicated to his job as a lawyer. But he also made ample time for his body, regularly hitting the massive private gym complex inside his manor and eating the best diet provided by his nutritionist.

As such, Gerard maintained a fantastic physique. He was lean and muscular, with broad shoulders and a trim waistline. His skin remained smoother than his wrinkled colleagues. He had the kind of body that turned heads and commanded respect. In every class reunion he attended, his colleagues remarked that he aged like the finest wine made in France.

But as he sat alone in his office, Gerard couldn’t help but feel that his best years were behind him. He could feel his body eroding, his joints starting to pain with the littlest of moves. He remembered the days when can run for miles without breaking a sweat or lifting weights that would make men tremble. Now, even a short jog left him winded, and he could scarcely use the expensive weights in his private gym. His nutritionist even adjusted his diet to accommodate the nutritional needs of a geriatric man.

‎ Gerard couldn’t help but reminisce about his prime. He remembers the feeling of invincibility that came with being young and strong. He remembered when he was starting, just a small little twig in the streets of Queens, New York. Then he grew tired of his weakness and promised that he’ll strive to be better at every chance he could. He remembered the rush of adrenaline the first time he lifted. The limits he pushed that day brought him the greatest satisfaction since he was born. It was an uphill battle, and every struggle left him stronger and better than before.

Gerard knew those days were gone. He could never revert to his prime, no matter how much he wanted to. Age, he realized, was catching up to him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He may have the power and money, but none could stand against the test of time.

Gerard’s worries grew so much that he confided in a long-time correspondent. He’s never known who this was and already accepted that he will never find out. This person was there in his greatest trials and tribulations, providing guidance and comfort. Even now, his correspondence suggested that Gerard go to the “Mind and Body Oasis”, an infamous spa resort in Florida. Gerard is a man of science, and he always questioned the Science of herbs and massages. But his long-time anonymous friend never failed him yet. At best, he would feel young from the natural goo they’ll put on his body. At worst, he’ll be a gullible idiot for believing that pseudoscientific herbs could make a difference. At least, he’ll be relaxed and massaged either way.

‎ Upon arriving at the spa, Gerard was greeted by a team of cordial staff who showed him around a typical-looking spa resort. They gave a long list of available treatments, and all seemed to be just a mixture of the usual Asian spa jargon. Gerard asked for the massage and facial acupuncture, followed by the Dragon Herbal Treatment his correspondence asked him to take. The staff explained that they use a combination of powerful exotic herbs and other natural ingredients to help rejuvenate the body and mind. The herbs were carefully selected and blended to create a powerful salve that could reverse the effect of aging and restore the body to its prime.

Gerard underwent a series of treatments where he was asked to strip and have this itchy goop rubbed all over his body. A muscular man greeted him and spent an hour massaging his back. All the worries and pain of aging evaporated gradually throughout the session. The man’s strong, skilled hands kneaded Gerard’s aching muscles with expert precision, applying the right amount of pressure to ease the tension and loosen his knots.

‎ It’s embarrassing, but the repeated rocking movement must have teased Gerard’s dick. He was getting semi-hard and was afraid the masseur must have seen it. Well, he guessed the masseur did. Because during the massage, the masseur grabbed his semi-erect shaft and rubbed the green goop all over it. Before he could explain his embarrassing side to the masseur, Gerard found the man gone from the room. Then there was this heavy feeling in his eyes. His muscles grew weary from too much relaxation, and soon, they were too weak to support his body. Gerard stumbled unconscious on the floor. It’s a good thing his body was too numb to feel the pain.

Gerard awoke in his rented hotel room at the spa a few hours later. Despite the confusing end of his massage, it was probably the best he had in all the years he lived on Earth. The pain in his back was gone. For a long time, he thought the pain wouldn’t leave him without pain relievers. His body has grown resistant to the drugs, and he can feel the pain every day. To feel it gone, it’s like a massive stone was lifted from his body. He can stand without his bones creaking. He could jump again! Upon landing on the floor, Gerard came face to face with a forgotten reflection.

‎ “What the fuck!” Gerard stumbled back on the bed, his distinct hoarse voice gone and his pitch raised. He crawled back to the reflection and shuddered. When the employees said they’d return him to his youth, he expected it to be some euphemism for the amazing effects of their massage. He didn’t expect this! He hasn’t seen this face for 30 years. It’s been so long that it feels like the person in the mirror was a stranger. He touched his soft handsome face, an appearance that broke several hearts in his youth. He could feel his smooth fingers sail across his unblemished, unwrinkled face. He felt a surge of energy and excitement coursing through his body at the realization. Little did he know, the hormones of youth are taking their toll on his body. A slow rise of arousal bubbled inside him. Before long, he was opening his bathrobe to say welcome to an old friend – a full throbbing erection.

‎ ‎

‎“Wait,” Richard said. He plopped his massive dick on his hand and looked at it closely. It wasn’t this huge before, and he definitely didn’t have this much of a foreskin. And yet… It seemed he was wasting his time asking questions when he could be using it to pleasure himself. He had masturbated before, but never with the intensity and urgency he feels now.

‎ Gerard returned to bed and allowed his hands to wander down to his groin, where he found himself already leaking pre-cum. He closed his eyes and began to stroke himself, his mind awash with the joys of his new body and the sexy voice he was making. It’s his voice, but it still feels that of a stranger.

As Gerard neared climax, he quickened the pace, savoring the sensations flooding through his body. His breath came in short gasps and moans, and his muscles tensed as he teetered on the edge of release.

And then his wishes happened. With a shuddering gasp, Richard reached the peak of his pleasure, his body convulsing as he erupted in ecstasy. His semen spurted forth in thick white ropes as he lashed with a litany of moans. He never came this much and intensely. If he did, it must have been decades ago in a poor chum’s virgin asshole. He’s glad to feel this sensation again. He collapsed on the bed and moaned with pleasure as the last of his tension melted away.

‎ Gerard cleaned after himself. He was about to dress in his clothes but found them too large. They hung a bit loose on his body. He may have returned to his youth, but the decades of building muscles got shaved with it. He’s a little bummed but still happy in the end. That means he would get the chance to break his limits again.

Gerard stayed in a bathrobe and left his bedroom to thank the muscular masseur who helped him regain his youth. He found him in the lobby room, seemingly waiting for him.

“I didn’t get the chance to say thanks for letting me relive my prime,” Gerard said in his young voice. It would take a while before he could get used to this new voice coming from his throat.

“You’re welcome, Gerard. Making you come here was the best, correct?”

It was like a pin was dropped on Gerard’s head. “Wait. You- You’re the one I’ve been talking to for 30 years? My mysterious correspondent?”

“I am,” He smiled.

[carewyncromwell]

"Cover my eyes -- cover my ears -- Tell me these words are a lie... It can't be true that I'm losing you -- The sun cannot fall from the sky... Can you hear heaven cry the tears of an angel?”

~“Tears of an Angel,” by RyanDan

x~x~x~x

tw: character death, brief mention of violence 

The Battle of Hogwarts, taking place the night of May 1st 1998 and into the next morning of May 2nd, was a dramatic day in the Wizarding World’s history. It was the day that Lord Voldemort fell at the hands of Harry Potter and the Ministry of Magic successfully seized back control from the Death Eaters that had infiltrated it -- the day that marked the end of the Second Wizarding War and a new beginning for wizards in the United Kingdom. 

It was also a day, however, of immense loss. Although most magical historians (and authors writing books about the infamous Boy Who Lived) tend to gloss over the names and identities of those lost in favor of the grander-scale historical strides achieved by the end of the War, those who actually fought in the Battle -- such as Jacob Cromwell -- never forget that.

Once known as the “delinquent” who pursued Hogwarts’s infamous Cursed Vaults as a student, only to disappear mysteriously for seven years and then reappear looking exactly the same as when he vanished, Jacob worked hard to make a better name for himself. Once his fight against R was finally over, he set about traveling the world and taking on as many areas of study as he could, using his extensive knowledge of Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, the Dark Arts, defensive magic, magical and Muggle history, Legilimency, Muggle science, and both modern and ancient languages to pioneer new magical discoveries. One of his most passionate interests was in applying Muggle chemistry and biology to the fields of Potioneering and Magizoology, and through those advancements, he was able to not only introduce the use of the periodic table to advanced Potions classes and the principles of evolution to advanced Care of Magical Creatures classes, but also help develop a slew of new antidotes for magical creature venoms. Despite this, though, Jacob was enough of a vagabond with no definitive sense of direction that he could be easily persuaded to jump back into Cursebreaking -- the thing that first brought him and his once-boy best friend Duncan together -- and through Cursebreaking, Jacob met Lugh Hopper. @thatravenpuffwitch​​

The Patriarch of the Hopper clan was a very brave and dedicated family man, even despite the tragedy in his life. During the First Wizarding War, he lost not only his wife, but his son and daughter-in-law, so he’s always been quite protective of and nurturing toward his grandchildren Ellie and Jacob Hopper. With this in mind, it’s not entirely surprising that a man with such good paternal instincts and such a fearless spirit took a liking to a reckless, passionate nerd like Jacob Cromwell. They were both Legilimens with a strong devotion to family and a lot of courage, and honestly, Jacob C was just entertaining to go on assignments with, considering he never flinched away from a challenge and would get over-excited about the littlest things. 

Jacob Cromwell had never had a real father figure in his life before, since his father Evan had never been very affectionate or supportive toward either Jacob or Carewyn and ultimately abandoned his family when Jacob received his Hogwarts letter, and so Lugh filled a hole in Jacob Cromwell’s life that he barely even knew had been there before. Lugh validated Jacob’s intense passions and desire to fix people’s problems and make the world better, even after all of the mistakes Jacob had made in his life. The older man wholeheartedly supported Jacob when he put his Cursebreaking assignments on hold to return to Britain, supposedly to “research at home” for a while, but in truth to help his sister Carewyn hide Muggle-born fugitives from the Ministry of Magic. And when both men arrived at Hogwarts on May 1st, they greeted each other with a casual hug, slapping each other’s backs, as if Jacob Cromwell was just as much Lugh’s grandson as Jacob Hopper was.

The two men fought side by side some of the time during the Battle. Both were extremely talented magical Duelists -- Lugh had once worked in the Auror Department alongside Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody, while Jacob had been a dueling prodigy since he was still at school and had in his travels studied with a Native American wizard about how to fight with two wands simultaneously. Despite this, however, the casualties in the Battle of Hogwarts were very steep indeed -- and sure enough, one of those casualties was Lugh, who only went down thanks to the combined efforts of four Death Eaters. 

When Lugh went down, Jacob Cromwell -- who never was very good at containing his anger -- lost his head completely. He tore into the enemy forces with both of his wands, mercilessly cutting them down with an assortment of both dueling and Dark spells that other members of the Hogwarts army wouldn’t have dared use. He used Transfiguration to fuse one Death Eater to a suit of armor, even if the metal cut painfully through his flesh and bone. He seized one Death Eater’s wand arm with a spell and then dislocated it, twisting it completely the wrong way. He even impaled one of the men who’d cornered Lugh with a chandelier. Jacob was so grief-stricken that he’d gone mad -- and even when the Battle had been paused and there were no more enemy combatants left to fight, no one could get close to him. Most didn’t want to, out of fear of his temper. The only ones brave enough to were Bill Weasley and Jacob Hopper. 

When the eldest Weasley tried to approach first, Jacob Cromwell refused to let him get within three feet of him. Jacob C had always had a lingering, petty resentment of his sister’s best friend, since Bill had sort of “taken Jacob’s place” in Carewyn’s life while he was trapped in the Portrait Vault and also embodied a lot of Jacob’s insecurities about not being good enough of a brother for Carewyn, so he had a lot of trouble accepting any help from him. Jacob Hopper, on the other hand, naturally grieved his grandfather just as much as Jacob Cromwell did -- and although Hopper was a rather arrogant rebel, Jacob Cromwell was one of those too, so the two had found more than a little bit of common ground while working together on assignments with Lugh. And so tall Jacob Hopper was able to get close enough to the shorter, stockier Jacob Cromwell to roughly pull him into a hug without a word -- and the two Jacobs ultimately stood there in the hall together, Jacob Cromwell’s shaking hands holding his wands wrapped around Hopper’s chest as they both gritted their teeth and fiercely tried to contain their grief and tears. All Jacob Cromwell ever said to Jacob Hopper that day was --

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Most wouldn’t know what he was sorry for, exactly...but Hopper surmised it was indicative of survivor’s guilt, more than anything. 

After the War was over, Jacob Cromwell -- with some encouragement from his sister Carewyn -- finally felt brave enough to ask the Hoppers if he could sing something for Lugh’s funeral, in his honor. Naturally the Hoppers agreed...and when the young vagabond wizard came up to stand in front of the congregation that included his sister and her new ward Erik, his mother, and his best friend Olivia Green, his way-too-long ponytail of dark brown curls better groomed and dressed in nicer high-necked black robes than he’d ever worn in his life, he sung full-voice and bravely, even with tears streaming down his face. 

“Oh, we never know where life will take us --  I know it's just a ride on the wheel -- And we never know when death will shake us, And we wonder how it will feel... So goodbye, my friend --  I know I’ll never see you again, But the time together through all the years Will take away these tears. It's okay now... Goodbye, my friend.”

And for the remainder of Jacob Cromwell’s life, he held Lugh Hopper’s memory as close to his heart as he did Duncan Ashe’s -- this time, as motivation to fight for a world where people like Lugh didn’t have to lay down their lives, just to save others from people like Voldemort and the Death Eaters. 

[somefandomimagines]

Hi! Im not sure if matchup request are still open but if it is here's my entry :))

Id like one for death note and/ or dsmp, but if you onky do one fandom per request, death note is k for me!

Im pretty tall (5'7) with smooth shoulder length black hair and dark brown eyes, slightly curvy and a bit tan. Im bisexual and my pronouns are she /her & they/them. I do not jave any triggers or disabilities, as far as i know just social anxiety because im insecure and self-loathing. Im known to be kind,sympathetic, responsible( well yes i very much like to take control if thats what they mean), thoughtful, approachable and optimistic. But i can be stubborn, indecisive, insecure abt myself.

im fond of music(classics to rock its pretty diverse.. Ithink) aside from horror, thriller and comedy. Also im trying to learn how to play the ukulele and the piano 😤🖐️. Im always up for science and anything connected to literature. Just dont... Pls keep math away from me, i beg you dont jusy dont.

Im sorry if this was very long, i got carried away teehee~ but yep tysm i hope you have a great day :)))

YOOO SO UM- HI GUYS IM ALIVE AGAIN? AFTER SO FUCKIN LONG! LMAO! But sorry for such a late response to this, I kinda lost interest in tumblr for a while so I'm gonna try and be more active!! For Death Note I'd match you up with.... MELLO! - You would kinda just join his gang one day, no one knows how it happened but he was drawn to ya - You'd quickly make your way up the ranks, your good leadership shining through!! - It also didn't take long for you and Mello to get surprisingly close! - Obviously he wasn't at the point he'd tell you anything personal, but you'd hang out with him and Matt! - You guys were comfortable to the point you'd both sit around quietly with rock music playing as Matt played his games - But one day Mello noticed you were more... I dunno, lifeless - Matt was out doing his own shit, so Mello scooted over to you on the couch and roughly put a hand on your shoulder - This would scare the fuck out of you, but you'd calm down once you saw Mello's face... Even if he was basically giving you a death glare - He'd simply ask what's wrong, no context or nothin' - You could tell he wouldn't take any bs... But that he also DID care - So you kinda just opened up to him about your anxiety and the things you were stressing about - This man took it seriously, listening to every word - He noticed at some point you were getting REALLY emotional... And Mello? He ain't good with that - He didn't know how to respond except to quietly listen, but when you were about to cry you quite literally had a piece of chocolate stuffed in your mouth - It definitely did calm you down a bit, especially when you looked at Mello and... His gaze was just so soft - At least softer than you've ever seen it - Serious but in a caring way - And since then you two got closer... He'd even just casually let you steal a chunk off his chocolate at some point - Matt wasn't happy abt that, he wanted chocolate too - BUT THEN - The main area of your guys' hangout got stormed - Bullets were flying everywhere and Mello didn't know where you were - He'd first think about killing the motherfuckers that got there but... He needed to know if you were ok - At this point he opened up to you even the littlest bit - And he cared so much about you - You were different than anyone he's ever known, he didn't know what these feelings were - Jk, he's a genius ofc he knew- but he wasn't used to them - When he found you holding yourself up, being all badass but barely holding yourself against the bad guys - He didn't think twice to help out - After the entire situation, he just held you close and muttered smth about how worried he was - You just... quietly held him back, which was exactly what he needed at the time - He realized how much you grounded him - When you guys started dating, he didn't even tell anyone - You didn't either, you guys would just casually sit really close on the couch - Matt damn well knew, but when Mello ONE DAY kissed your head, Matt knew that Mello would give the world for you - That head kiss took you so off guard - Mello isn't into PDA, but that? In front of Matt? WILD - You guys don't even need to tell each other words at some point, you guys just know what the other is thinking - You're sitting on a couch and Mello taps your shoulder without looking at you? You knew he wanted the TV remote to turn that shit off since Matt was raging - Anyways, you two have such a weird dynamic - Btw... Btw... When you two are alone Matt let's you rest your head on his shoulder and he'll wrap an arm around you - It's rare that you two get much alone time since you guys are so damn buisy - Also... kisses taste like chocolate THIS ISNT MUCH BUT IM LIKE- GOING BRR RN SO HERE YOU GO!

[thelittlesttimelord]

The Littlest Timelord: The Fall of the Eleventh Chapter 51

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: The Fall of the Eleventh Chapter 51 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 51/? SUMMARY:    Elise Smith is now a teenaged Timelord. In addition to losing the Ponds,  the fields of Trenzalore are calling. But first they have to figure out  exactly who Clara Oswald is.

[A/N - WELCOME TO THE LAST CHAPTER! I cannot believe we’ve made it this far This book was so much longer than what I was planning, but it was ride, wasn’t it?]

Clara knelt down next to Elise. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” the Doctor said.

Clara held out a Christmas cracker to him, but he wasn’t strong enough to pull on the other end. “Hey, it's okay. It's all right, don't worry.” Clara placed her hand on his and they popped the cracker together.

“Ah! Is there a joke, Huh?” the Doctor asked.

“Extract from Thoughts on a Clock by Eric Ritchie Jr,” Clara read.

“Is it a knock knock one? Those are best.”

Clara laid her head on his knee. “I don't think so.”

“Well, read it. Go on.”

“And now it's time for one last bow, like all your other selves. Eleven's hour is over now. The clock is striking twelve's.”

“I don't get it.”

The sound of a Dalek shattered the moment. “Doctor! The Doctor will be brought! The Daleks demand the Doctor.”

A young man came running in.

Clara and Elise stood up.

“They're here. The Daleks, we can't stop them. They want you.”

“Oh, all right, Barnable. Are you Barnable?” the Doctor asked.

“No, Doctor.”

Elise knew that the Doctor’s connection with Barnable had been a strong one, so surely he remembered him dying. Maybe his memory was going in his old age.

“It's okay, Barnable, don't worry. I have got a plan. Off you pop.”

The young man left the room.

“I haven't got a plan, but people love it when I say that.”

“Doctor, what are you going to do?” Clara asked.

The Doctor struggled to lift himself from his chair.

Elise helped him up.

“Oh, I don't know. Talk very fast, hope something good happens, take the credit. That's generally how it works.”

“Doctor…”

“Not this time, though. This is it.”

“No!”

“Yes. We saw the future, Clara. This is how it ends.”

“Change it.”

“Ha!”

“Like Tasha said, change the future.”

“I could have once, when there were Time Lords. Not anymore.”

“Fixed points can’t be rewritten Clara. Especially when you know the future,” Elise told her, “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing you can do.”

Clara started to follow the Doctor.

“No. You're going to stay here. Promise me you will,” he said.

“Why?”

“I'll be keeping you safe. One last victory. Allow me that. Give me that, my Impossible Girl.”

The Doctor hugged her. “Thank you and goodbye.” He kissed her head and wiped away a tear.

He looked at Elise. “My clever, brave girl. Please.”

Elise knew what he was asking. She threw her arms around his neck and he could feel tears hitting his skin. He rubbed her back until she calmed down. She stepped back and he kissed her forehead.

The Doctor started up the stairs. “The trouble with Daleks is, they take so long to say anything. Probably die of boredom before they shoot me.”

“The Doctor is required!” the Daleks demanded.

Clara walked over to the crack.

“What are you doing?” Elise asked her.

“Listen to me, you lot. Listen! Help him. Help him change the future. Do it. Do something. You've been asking a question, and it's time someone told you you've been getting it wrong.” Clara knelt in front of the crack. “His name, his name is the Doctor. All the name he needs. Everything you need to know about him.”

Elise decided to try something. She knelt next to Clara. “Father? It’s Elise, your daughter. If you ever loved me, please don’t take him away from me. Help him. Please help him.”

The crack snapped shut. Elise and Clara looked at each other before running outside to join the citizens of Christmas.

“Sorry I'm a bit slow. I may not be at my best right now,” the Doctor told them.

“You are dying, Doctor,” the Daleks said.

“Yes, I'm dying. You've been trying to kill me for centuries, and here I am, dying of old age. If you want something done, do it yourself.”

“You will die, and the Time Lords will never return.”

“You still can't work up the courage to shoot me, can you? You're still worried I've got something up my sleeve. Well, you knock yourselves out, boys. I've got nothing this time.”

Daleks fired all around them.

A crack opened up in the sky and golden regeneration energy flowed towards the Doctor.

“You will die now, Doctor. This is the end of you.”

The crack snapped shut.

“Oh my gods,” Elise breathed.

“What? What happened?” Clara asked.

“They gave him more.”

“Gave him more what?”

“The rules of regeneration are known. You have expended all your lives,” the Daleks said.

“Sorry, what did you say? Did you mention the rules? Now, listen. Bit of advice. Tell me the truth if you think you know it. Lay down the law if you're feeling brave. But, Daleks, never, ever tell me the rules!” the Doctor yelled.

“Emergency! Emergency! The Doctor is regenerating! The Doctor is regenerating!”

“Oh, look at this. Regeneration number thirteen. We're breaking some serious science here, boys. I tell you what, it's going to be a whopper!”

“Exterminate! Exterminate the Doctor.”

“You think you can stop me now, Daleks? If you want my life, ha, ha, come and get it!” The Doctor shot regeneration energy at the Dalek ship.

Clara ushered people inside buildings as Elise took off for the TARDIS.

The Doctor came sauntering in, young now. His hands were glowing slightly, so Elise knew what was coming.

“Would you fulfill the wish of a dying man?” he asked, “I’d really like some fish fingers and custard.”

Elise laughed and hugged him, before running off to the kitchen. She came back with the fish fingers and custard and handed it to him.

He was dressed in his purple outfit again. He scooped up some custard onto a fish finger and handed it her. “Please?”

Elise took it from him and ate it.

They sat in silence as he ate and then he started pacing.

Clara finally entered the TARDIS. “Doctor!” Clara said, happily.

“Hello.”

“You're young again. You're okay. You didn't even change your face.”

“Ha! It's started. I can't stop it now. This is just the reset.”

The same thing had happened in the Naismith Mansion when his previous incarnation healed his own wounds.

“A whole new regeneration cycle.” The Doctor finished his custard. “Taking a bit longer. Just breaking it in.” He wobbled around the console and put the TARDIS in flight. “It all just disappears, doesn't it? Everything you are, gone in a moment, like breath on a mirror. Any moment now, he's a-coming.”

“Who's coming?”

“The Doctor.”

“But you, you are the Doctor.”

“Yep, and I always will be.” His hands started glowing. “But times change, and so must I.” The Doctor turned to the stairs and smiled. “Amelia?”

Elise gasped.

“Who's Amelia?” Clara asked.

“The first face this face saw. We all change, when you think about it. We're all different people all through our lives. And that's okay, that's good, you've got to keep moving, so long as you remember all the people that you used to be. I will not forget one line of this. Not one day. I swear. I will always remember when the Doctor was me.” He raised a hand to the air and sniffled.

He suddenly smiled and knelt down. “I’m sorry. My little girl. My clever girl.”

“Hold up, is he…?” Clara asked Elise.

Elise only nodded. In addition to seeing Amy, he was also seeing a younger version of herself.

The Doctor finally stood up and removed his bowtie.

It hit the floor of the TARDIS.

“No, no,” Clara cried, reaching out for him.

“Hey…”

“Please don't change.”

In a flash, the Doctor they knew was gone. In his place stood a much older man with gray hair and piercing blue eyes.

The new Doctor stared at the two women and then jerked back. “Kidneys!” he yelled, “I've got new kidneys. I don't like the color.”

“Of your kidneys?” Clara asked, in shock.

The TARDIS started lurching.

“What's happening?” Clara yelled.

“We're probably crashing,” the Doctor told them. He rushed to the console.

“Into what?”

“Stay calm. Just one question. Do you happen to know how to fly this thing?”

Elise ran to the console and started pressing buttons and throwing levers.

“Don’t touch that!” the Doctor yelled at her.

“I thought you didn’t know how to fly it!”

He went around, flipping levers and pressing buttons.

“Stop touching the console!” Elise yelled at him.

The TARDIS made her usual wheezing noise and they heard a growl.

“Elise…what was that?” Clara asked.

“I don’t know, but whatever you do don’t open those doors.”

[aponderingcharming]

We Have What We Have When We Have It - Part 2

Thanos has been defeated. Everyone is back. But Tony is gone, and so is Natasha. As Steve tries to come to terms with the loss, he discovers something that belonged to her. Read on AO3. 

They had done it.

They had defeated Thanos.

But now they needed to clean up.

Clean-up operations were always messy, but Steve had never seen destruction like this.

Hundreds of people were scattered around the vast area gathering up the debris, building what looked to be endless mounds of broken pieces of what once was whilst trying to make sense of the chaos and sorting out what was left into some kind of order.

Steve watched on from the sidelines, almost glued to the spot as they worked, entranced as they divvied up bits of his life, feeling pretty lost.

Everyone who had been lost to the snap had come back and life was very slowly starting to return to whatever the new normal was going to be. Sure it was going to take a while to adjust to, well, everything but the atmosphere around the world was one of celebration and new hope.

He should have been celebrating, too. They had won, right? Families were reunited, friends back together again. And while bringing Bucky and Sam and Wanda back filled the void that had been aching inside of him since the second they disappeared, there was a new void now and this one felt different.

Stronger.

Worse.

After Tony’s funeral, Pepper had offered him a room to stay for a couple of days until he had to go and return the stones but most nights he found himself unable to sleep and ending up back at the remains of the headquarters, standing amongst the carnage, some part of him searching for answers in the chunks and shards of concrete and metal. Rubble spread out for what seemed like an eternity and any hope of finding anything that could connect him to himself, the person he was before all of this, was getting less and less as each day passed.

He’d lost his home.

Maybe it wasn’t his home for much of the last seven years or so, but it still held that place of belonging in his heart. It was the first place he had ever grown a sense of attachment to, the first place that lent itself a purpose to him. It was where they trained and forged relationships and built trust and carved out some sense of existence amid all of the madness that was their lives as Avengers.

It was where Natasha stayed when everyone else, including himself, left.

And now it had been reduced to nothing.

Just piles and piles of rooms and furniture and memories of now distant times.

And -

She was gone, too.

That he hadn’t fully dealt with yet either.

Part of him kept acting as if she was away on a mission or gone off the radar and she’d swoop in at any moment with an arched eyebrow, a sly smirk and some witty one-liner. Yet as the hours and days went by, the reality of it all was hitting him hard.

Losing Tony was worse than he could have ever imagined, especially when they had only recently mended their bridges, and him leaving behind Pepper and Morgan, sacrificing himself for the sake of everyone else, stirred up this burning in his chest that got more prominent as the time waged on.

But losing Nat?

Words didn’t exist for that kind of pain.

Nothing anyone could say or do - nothing he could say or do - could make it better.

Steve had experienced loss in so many ways – waking up seventy years later with everything and everyone you had ever known now reduced to another time had truly taken its toll on him and took many years to fully process and move on from – but this feeling, this grief that he was dealing with was overwhelming. It was like drowning; gasping for air, grappling for relief, yearning for a break – and it never coming. Instead, the pressure got worse, the pain more intense, the ache becoming almost a part of him now.

It consumed his every thought and action.

Natasha was the last thing he thought of when he did manage to fall asleep and she was the first thing he thought of when he woke. Throughout the day, the littlest things sparked memories of her and clips of their conversations whirled into his mind regularly. Sometimes he could relay them word for word and recall her exact facial expressions and tone of voice. He hoped he’d never forget that. Or anything else about her, like the way her eyes widened when he said something that took her by surprise; the slight parting of her lips when she didn’t know what to say; the eyebrow that somehow conveyed a million things at once; the smile that was only for him – soft and genuine, there but not quite there; the touch of her hand on his arm that was so anchoring and soothing at the same time; her lithe, graceful movement from years of ballet training; her impressive and frightening skill; her unmatched humour. He didn’t want to forget any of it.

He didn’t realize this kind of love existed. Sure, he had seen it among friends, had felt something akin to it with Peggy, but it wasn’t until now, when it was too late – again – that he knew that a deep love like this was real.

Why couldn’t he have recognized it sooner?

They knew their jobs were risky and putting your life on the line was practically in the job description, yet he thought that there would be this seemingly perfect time to tell her?

They were meant to get lives. And judging by their last conversation - if he could ever let himself actually believe it - lives with each other.

See you in a minute.

Oh how he wished he had said something back to her instead of offering that confident, half smile. He never knew a minute could last a lifetime.

So he stood there desperately watching as they disposed of the remnant of this chapter of his life, stuck in his what-ifs and daydreams, heart completely broken, and so unsure of what was next for him.

And then he heard a voice.

“Sorry, Captain?”

Steve batted away the tear that slipped down his cheek and turned to look at a young, plucky man that had made his way over to him at some point while he was away in his own mind.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you and I know it’s not much yet, but there’s a trailer over there that has a bunch of stuff that’s still in-tact if you want to have a look? Might be something of yours in there,” he said, pointing to his right at a trailer that was half-full of what looked to be just pieces of junk.

Steve nodded, hoping that the action appeared somewhat grateful. “Thank you. I’ll be sure to have to a look.”

The young man offered a timid smile and then moved to walk away but not before saying, “Thank you for bringing my parents back.”

A tiny smile forced itself to form on his face as he watched the man re-join the efforts.

They had won.

That was what Natasha wanted after all.

He just wished he could have told her.

With a deep breath and spying the trailer of junk, Steve ambled over to it, hands in pockets, a little sceptical that it would hold anything of real value. And to the naked eye, he was right. Somehow a bunch of picture-less  photo frames had managed to survive. A couple of science books. A load of what looked to be computer accessories or parts – he wasn’t sure, really. A stool. An armchair. Some, but not a lot, of training gear. Nothing that seemed to be important.

Nevertheless, he reached over and in, moving things out of the way to have a look at what was underneath.

That’s when he found it.

It was a deep red, beat-up, scratched, metal box. It was small, couldn’t hold much of anything – maybe some papers or pictures. But he had never seen it before.

Gripping his two hands on the edge of the trailer, he hoisted himself up and then used one hand to steady himself whilst the other one grabbed the box. He landed back on his feet with a soft thud. It was lighter than he thought it would be and he raised it to the side of his head and shook it. Didn’t make much noise. He turned it upside down and all the way around for any indications on what it was or who owned it. A tiny padlock on the front danced around as he searched and came up short.

His brow furrowed deeper at the mystery as he held it out in front of him as though it would all become clear if he just looked at it harder. But there was nothing to find from its exterior; it had to be opened.

Something inside him pulsed, something that felt a little like a seedling of hope, that maybe, just maybe, this was Nat’s. It was a long-shot, he knew; she had never mentioned owning anything like this - or owning anything really. Due to their lifestyle, owning things kind of became pointless because they were always on the move, not sure if they were ever returning to where they were. They didn’t really have material things.

But there was always a possibility.

Aside from him, not many other people came to visit – so it had to have been hers, right?

Maybe.

With a parting look to what was once his home, Steve tucked the box under his arm and headed back to Pepper’s house.

When Steve reached the house, he could see that it was teeming with activity. Wanda and Sam were in the kitchen visibly at odds over what to make for breakfast, Bucky and Bruce were playing a game with Morgan that involved a lot of arms and legs and big grand gestures, and Pepper was keeping herself busy, tidying and moving all of Tony’s toys and equipment out of the living spaces piece-by-piece. Steve had offered on more than one occasion to help her in moving everything around but she had insisted that it was something that she needed to do for herself and by herself. And he respected that; grief showed up differently in people and the process was never a one-track road to recovery.

Unwilling to share what he had found at the site just yet, Steve headed over to the lake and sat down at the picnic table overlooking the view. It was a cloudy day, a little on the humid side, but it was still a beautiful picture. There was something so calming about the lakefront in all of its stillness and isolation. It was almost other-worldly in its distinct little spot just mere miles from the city.

He rested the box down in front of him and folded his arms on the table like he was waiting for it turn into something else and reveal its true nature.

Eyeing a small rock at his feet, Steve bent down and picked it up, tossing it around his fingers for a few seconds. He had absolutely no idea what to expect when he opened the box, but he knew that he had to find out. He struck the padlock with the rock and released a breath when it clinked onto the table. Then, he slid the box toward him and flipped open the lid with his thumbs.

There were folded pieces of paper inside – different colours and sizes, some looked to be ripped off a bigger sheet, others more formal looking, some like they were pulled from notebooks. A pen rolled down over them when he tilted it upward to have a closer look in. No pictures or indicators of what this was or to whom it belonged. Just what appeared to be a bunch of paper.

Steve scooped them all out in one go and placed them down as he pushed the box aside. The sheet that lay on top was folded over but had jagged edges as though it had been hastily torn out from a book, but yet on the bottom right-hand corner of it, ‘For SR’ was written in small but careful letters. He knit his eyebrows together at the discovery and then proceeded to check the other pieces of paper – all of which had ‘For SR’ written somewhere on their front.

SR.

Steve Rogers.

The man inhaled deeply, heart starting to beat that much quicker. He noticed that his hands were shaking as he lifted up the top sheet again.

Looking from left to right, making sure that he was completely alone, he swallowed hard and gave himself a number of seconds to settle. Though he still had no idea what any of this was, he felt like the moment, this moment, was significant.

He unfolded the paper.

It was a letter dated the day before they went on the time heist.

To him, from Natasha.

Hey Soldier,

Even though I can’t see you, I just know you’re doing that puppy-like frown thing that you do when you’re trying to solve a puzzle. (Steve, definitely making that face, immediately relaxed his expression.) Told you. (Okay, that required a grin.) I know what you’re thinking: ‘How did she know?’ but you see, Rogers, I think you’ll find that I know you pretty well. Maybe too well. I sometimes think I know you better than I know myself.

That’s why I started doing this. Writing letters. I remember all those times were you would chirp on about modern day communication and about how the sense of personal had been - what was it you said again? - totally removed? You were pretty resolute on that. It made for some really easy digs at your age. I mean seriously Rogers, sometimes I think you did it on purpose. (He could easily picture her then; leaning back against the headboard of her bed, notebook in hand, smirking as she wrote. God, what he wouldn’t do to see that smirk again. With a shake of his head, he willed himself to read on. Needing to read on.) And while I mostly found it kind of amusing to watch you grumble about all the differences between your era and ours – my personal favourite being pretty much anything to do with aliens; even after everything you’ve seen, watching you mouth the word ‘aliens’ like it was some entirely foreign concept for you always made me laugh (Despite being alone, Steve ducked his head in embarrassment, allowing himself the chance to imagine her low and raspy snicker, allowing himself to get lost in the sound) - there were parts that I do think we as a generation should have kept. Like this, for instance.

I started doing this after everything that went down after the Accords. After I realized that I had so much to lose. I feel like I didn’t truly know that until then. And I gotta say, Cap, there is something to this whole writing-down-your-thoughts-and-sending-them-to-people thing.

Not that I’ve ever sent or given these letters to you. They’re mainly just an outlet. A place for me to write out what I’m too afraid to say. (The blonde nestled in further then, leaning his two forearms onto the table.)

I don’t know if you’ll ever read this. I hope you don’t because if you are reading this it means that I haven’t made it. (God those words…seeing them on paper made his heart thump with profound sadness. They were heavy on the sheet too, like she leaned that bit heavier with the pen, like it took all of her effort to get them down.) Most of the letters I’ve written just dive right into what was going on and what we were facing; they’re kind of like I’m just talking to you, sometimes getting deep and revealing but never so much that I feel like I’ve poured it all out. But I knew this one had to be different. Because this time, the time heist…it feels different.

I feel confident. I feel like we’re going to win. But I also feel like it won’t be easily won, that there’ll be compromises and challenges along the way and that we’ll face the hardest decisions we’ve ever had to make. Whatever it takes, right? I think some old man told me that once. (Even in letters she couldn’t resist a jibe at his age and truth be told, he found it kind of warming. The jokes were a natural part of their relationship, zipping in when he least expected them but still amusing him nonetheless. He let out a sigh though, knowing that he’d never hear one from her ever again.)

We will win, Steve. I can feel it.

But I also feel like I need to say what I have to say. Or, well, write it down, I guess. I can’t put my finger on it but this time I feel like I need to release it. Maybe it’s just for me, I don’t know. God, I wish I was brave enough to say it to you and watch your face go through hundreds of different expressions in the space of a few seconds and watch as your body tenses in that cute, shy way that’s so funny to me because you’re Captain America and you’re not intimidated by any threat but when it comes to women you instantly retreat back to that kid from Brooklyn. And I find it endearing. There, I said it. So don’t go beating yourself up over it; embrace it. It’s just another reason as to why you’re the greatest guy, Steve.  

(It felt as though she paused there, the words holding so much weight even in their written state. He imagined she was working her bottom lip between her teeth as she deliberated what to say next, the slightest of furrows in her brow.)

Still with me? (“Yeah,” Steve answered aloud, swallowing hard.) I can practically hear you say yes. I bet you did, didn’t you? (A huff of laughter escaped through his nose. She really did know him. For a second, he placed the sheet down and drew in a number of long, deep breaths. He wasn’t sure what she was going to say, but he had a feeling that it was going to change everything for him.)

I really hope I get the chance to say this to you in person. Maybe I’ll do it after the heist. I mean, what am I waiting for anymore? I think I’ve waited long enough. I think you have too. You’re always waiting for something, aren’t you? I’m sorry I’m so bad at all this and I’ve kept you waiting literal years.

I feel like as time went on there was a shift in our relationship. And I think I knew it even before everything with Ultron but I never let myself think about it for too long. It scared me. I guess I didn’t understand what I was feeling because I had never felt this kind of feeling before. It was strange and new and frightening and so I pushed it to the side, kept on marching on beside you, keeping you at arm’s length even though we both know that it became harder to define the boundaries between us as the years went by. But by doing this I was able to sort through these feelings and figure out what was going on with me. Being vulnerable doesn’t come easy to me – shocker, I know. Turns out there is something I’m not good at. Just don’t tell anybody else.

So…okay, here it goes. The truth is: you’re the most important person in my life. The thought of you not being by my side through all of this…I can’t even imagine – I don’t want to ever imagine.

(Against his will, a small tear escaped his eye and snaked down his cheek. God, he didn’t ever want to do this without her either; when he truly thought about it, she was the only thing keeping him going. And now? Now she was gone. And it was so much worse than he could have ever imagined.)

I love you, Steve.

And I honestly don’t know what that looks like for us or what that could even be with the lives we lead, but I do. I really do. I think I have for a long time.

I was always taught that love was for children and I think for the most part of my life I believed that enough to be able to do what I do. But after The Avengers, I started to see the value in having friends and people who you could call family – and slowly I started to let the beginnings of love in. But with you…I can’t explain it but I know that I have never felt this way before. I feel like I subconsciously gravitate toward you when you’re nearby because I just want be around you; I care about your opinion; I want to pick you up when you feel low; I love talking to you and learning all of your mannerisms and listening to your stories form your childhood. I love the way you fight for everyone. I love the way you selflessly and tirelessly give of yourself to try to make the world the best version of itself. You make me want to be a better person. You showed me that I am a better person than I give myself credit for. No one has ever done that for me. No one has ever made me feel worthy. And in those five years after the snap, after we lost so much and I felt like I was drowning, you would just show up, like you just knew that I needed someone, a safe place to land. I like to think I became that source of safety for you then, too.

(Steve fought back the urge to fold the letter up and lock it away back in that box so that he didn’t have to see those words or hear her voice saying them with that soft tone she only ever really used for him. He could go about his life pretending that this declaration didn’t exist. Move on and get a new life, one that would make her proud. Because this? Somehow knowing that she cared for him in the same way he did for her made everything so much worse. He could never tell her that he loved her, could never validate her feelings. They could never have what they each wanted. “Damn it, Nat,” he cursed, smacking the table with his fist just to relieve some of the frustration that had crept up inside of him. Barring his teeth and setting his jaw to keep his emotion in check, he forced himself to keep going because he at least owed her that.)

Thank you for staying with me through all those times when I couldn’t bring myself to be anything to anyone. For the late night conversations; the brief moments of laughter. For being the constant in this strange world we find ourselves in. I don’t think I could ever truly convey how thankful I am that you never left me. Even when I wanted to leave me.

And thank you for taking the time to really see me. To look past all the stuff I put in the way and learn about the real me. You never shy away from my past, always willing to listen when something gets too much for me, but you also never pry or push, and you have never once judged me for who I was. I think that means more to me than you’ll ever know.

I don’t know if you feel the same way but deep down I think you do. The way you look at me sometimes…it’s like – I don’t know, it makes me feel seen. Or…whole, maybe? Like I’m enough. And you know me, I don’t think I’ve ever felt like I am enough for anything. I never felt like I belonged to this world, to this time, and I think on some level I understood you and what you felt when you woke up after the ice. Obviously not in the ‘waking up 70 years into the future’ kind of way but…I was always chasing absolution for my past, trying to be better and do better and make a difference; you were always chasing purpose in your future, trying to be better and do better and make a difference. And somehow in the middle of all that we forged a relationship that remained through all of the ups and downs and time-travel and aliens and egotistical demi-gods and talking space raccoons.  

You’re never going to see this anyway so I’m gonna write it down one more time just for myself and just because it actually feels good to see it on paper:

I love you, Steve.

If you’re finding out this way I’m so sorry. I hope that I get to say it to you someday. I hope you feel the same.

And if you have that crooked smile on your face – you know the one – you can scrub it off your face now. I mean it, Rogers; don’t let it get into your head!

Now let’s go win this time heist and get everyone back so we can get lives.

Nat

Each word, each declaration was like a punch to the stomach and Steve raised his head to look out at the quiet scene ahead of him, a scene he thought of as soothing a few minutes previous now appearing desolate and lonely. The ache, the tightness, the tension in his chest expanded and then constricted, expanded and constricted, expanded and constricted like it didn’t know what it wanted to do and all he could feel was pain and loss. Tears came more abundantly now, more urgent and hot. So much so that he couldn’t even see the page anymore. He buried his face into the crook of his shoulder, squeezing his eyes so tight that when he did try to open them, he could see nothing but bright spots of colour.

Natasha had loved him.

And now she was gone.

And she didn’t know that he loved her back.

What was he supposed to do now?

[fuwafuwamedb]

Trouble On Christmas (Mordred/Jekyll, Kiddos)

She didn’t rise up the moment the loud bang reached their room, rumbling the chamber.

The body of the man lying next to her was moving though. Panic had entered his voice as he called for her to wake up and began to scramble. The second bang had the other half of his personality coming into fruition, yelling out for the twins.

“FRICK! FRACK! WHO IS NEGLECTING BOMB PATROL!?”

The two boys were yelling as they came into the room, laughing loudly and bouncing on the bed.

“PESTS! THE LITTLEST! WHERE IS SHE?”

“We left her in the lab!” They told the man. “It’s Christmas! She wanted to have some fun!”

Fun and Jekyll’s lab were two words that needed to be separated. The child that the man had been only too eager to claim as his had developed a deep love in the same vein of interest as her father. She enjoyed anything that involved beakers and science and mixing liquids into new containers.

In the end, she had a talent for fire and explosions.

“HASTIE!”

The man was off again, making out the door this time as Mordred glanced down the bed to where the two boys sat.

“Father,” they growled. “It’s Christmas. Present time.”

“We can’t.”

The two frowned.

She would need a good excuse to not get out of bed. It would need to be something that the two boys could no more argue at the moment then they could prove otherwise.

“You both have heard of King Arthur’s traveling knight… Sir Kay, haven’t you?”

The two glanced to one another, shaking their head.

“It is said that he often tries to come into homes that celebrate Christmas early,” she told the suckers. “He eats little kids.”

“Crap,” Melou growled. “Hastie’ll be eaten.”

Melehan pulled his sword from his side, holding it up in the air. “TO THE LAB!”

The scrambling came immediately for the door.

The boys’ yells could be heard as footstep sounds made it known that they were descending to the depths of the house.

Mordred hummed happily, moving to the center of the bed.

“Father…”

Mordred frowned, opening one eye to see Hastie staring at her.

“…I thought you were in the lab.”

“No, I left Sir Tristan and Sir Lancelot in there.”

Ah…

Shit.

The twins and the knights would start a war. Blades never went back into their sheaths before a fight was fought.

She’d be apologizing to Jekyll tonight.

[trpgs-and-vamp-zektors]

Hey! I see you ship with vexen, I don't see a lot ship with him, what can you tell us about the ship? Like backstory, how the dynamic is, your SI's relation to canon ect.,? (Anotherselfshipping )

!!!!!!!!!!! HELLO! @anotherselfshippingsideblog​

HOOBOY, LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT MY LOVE, MY LIFE, MY SCIENCE BOY!

Also, it’s quite hard to ship with him due to a TON of stuff being out there for the 4-1-1

For a bit of backstory;Well, first of all, we’d known each other since Radiant Garden. I was working alongside him in the castle. I soon found that his interest in, well, anything was absolutely adorable. I loved how he let his curiosity take the wheel and determine his path. It was a rough start, trying to get across my feelings and see if he even remotely felt anything for me. It took me until our third picnic watching the sunset to realise that this man was so dense.

Nevertheless, I was not deterred from doing everything I could to assist him. …to the point where I volunteered for his experiments. I was the first to be split into Heartless and Nobody. I no longer felt what I had for him, I no longer felt anything, just… empty…

I was alone until I met them, my old friends now known as the Organization. Even had become Vexen. Not only did he lose his heart, but any respect he had for others ‘below his rank’. I felt truly crushed at that. …I felt something? Perhaps a part of my heart lingered within me.

Over time, my feelings returned. The more time I spent with him, the more I felt I never lost my heart to begin with. And, for the first time, I saw him respond positively to me, more than just for a good job. Ironically, we became closer than ever before after losing our hearts.

Our dynamic;He’s cool and level headed, always questioning the littlest things. He’s constantly focused on his work. I do whatever I can to help him. Most of the time. But I will stop everything if he hasn’t eaten/drank water/slept. I will aggressively take care of him if he doesn’t take care of himself. He loves it, but won’t admit it.

My relation to canon;I don’t really have anything that I think would clash with canon. I’m just there? My weapons are a pair of mock keyblades- keyblades that Vexen had created as part of a project. Only I was able to wield them due to my power. I can control copies of things, almost like puppetry, but it can’t be the original. So, for instance, I could control Replica Riku, but not Riku. To an extent I could control the other Nobodies, but only for a minute at most and it drains my energy much faster. If I was implemented into the games, I’d think it would leech from my HP to use it on the others.

[serpentsangel]

Talk Me Down: Part Four

A/N: AHHHH! I finally updated this! Sorry I have been delayed in doing so, school was hell and I’m only just starting to get back into the habit of writing. I’m hoping that over the summer, with the time I have, that I can complete this story and Bounty and maybe even start a new one! I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter <3 Thank you once more for all the support. I appreciate it a lot.

Plot: A mysterious name pops up in (Y/N)’s mind causing tension between her and her mother. As Reggie gets to know (Y/N), Cheryl approaches him with a proposition that tests him on what matters more to him. His morals or his lifelong dream he’s worked hard on?

Words: 2,302

Part One // Part Two // Part Three

Part Four

(Y/N) groans the moment she walks into the atrium of her mansion, standing in the middle, looking like a hawk on a pedestal, is her mother with her arms crossed and deadly eyes glaring her up and down. “Go ahead, scoff about my outfit. Tear me apart. Do the one thing you know.” (Y/N) stops and places her hands on her hips, waiting for her judgemental mother to spew out some excuse to shout at her.

Margareta scoffs and rolls her eyes, adjusting her silk gloves. “You missed the banquet. You made me look like a fool. I was the only socialite there that didn’t have their offspring present and it was the talk of the night. Next time, I’m making sure Torres has you home as soon as you step out of school. None of this, late night rendezvous to whichever unlucky soul has to endure your sight.”

“I’ll have your tiny little pea brain know that I was studying. At the library because at least that place has a proper space unlike this cauldron you brew every day.” (Y/N) snaps, holding onto her fallen back pack, shaking her head at her mother before stepping forward to get to the stairs and to her room and, subsequently, away from her mother.

“I’ll be leaving for the South tomorrow morning, I’ll be gone for three days and I suspect that by the time I return you will not have burned down this space. And if I find a single strand of a party, or any other living thing besides those that are already here, I will make your life a hell.” Margareta turns around and death glares (Y/N), who by now has dropped her bag and taken a few steps down to over-tower her mothers small frame.

“What business do you have down there, hm? The South Side that you have been keeping away from me all these years?” (Y/N) scoffs as she crosses her arms, glaring down at her mother, then it hit. A name. Out of the depths of her mind, something she didn’t recognize, or someone she doesn’t recognize. “Are you going to try and find dad? FP Jones…” Margareta’s face drops pale, her eyes scanning (Y/N) for answers. “…who is he? Why did his name just pop up in my mind?”

“How the hell do you know that name?” Margareta scowls.

“I. Don’t. Know. Just like I don’t know half of my life, who my dad is or where he is because you keep on telling me lies after lies after lies and I am fucking sick of it! One day and one way or another you will tell me, or I will have to find out by my fucking self because it is torture knowing that I am missing a part of my life and I can’t know what it is. You can’t keep me locked up forever, mother. The dam will break and when it does…” (Y/N) picks up her bag and smirks towards her mother. “….the devil within will be loose. Strap yourself in, your reign will soon be over. Ta-Ta. Have a good night down South!” Proudly, (Y/N) struts back up to her room, shutting the door behind her. Leaving Margareta to clench her manicured hands into fists and silently scream to herself.

Reggie walks slowly back to the changing room, the mornings practice aching him a lot more than he thought it would. Spending most of the summer going around and having interviews with schools meant he had limited time in the gym, his body felt rigid. As he turns the corner he sees the usual sight of Chuck and a few of the other lads cracking up, most likely about whatever moving being they banged over the summer but as he approaches his locker, Reggie’s ears perked up when he heard (Y/N) be mentioned.

“How much do you want to bet, that (Y/N) is a complete freak in bed?” Chuck ‘jokes’, the boys seemed to enjoy the trash talk. “C’mon, a hot chick like that being cooped up in a fortress up in the hills, she must have some sort of deranged kinks. (Y/N) must be freaky.” Alright, that’s enough.

Reggie slams his locker door shut and causes the small group of boys to jump a little at the sudden loud clang of the metal. “Do you honestly have noting better to do, Chuck?”

Chuck looks up at Reggie, still sporting that cocky smirk of his. “You know you’re thinking it too, Mantle. I’ve seen you sitting with her in Biology. Your eyes say it all. You’re as curious as I am.”

“Just cut it. She’s new. Besides, I’m pretty sure you’re not her type.” Reggie laughs as he walks out of the changing rooms, leaving Chuck to fume to himself. He takes a large sip from his water bottle as he heads to his locker, taking a few books out before walking down the hallway to Biology trying to rid his mind of what he’s just eaves dropped in the locker room. It sickens him that somehow, people don’t see whats wrong with it and even though they aren’t saying it in the presence of their subject, word travels fast.

When he turns the corner to go in to class, there’s no one else, yet, except for (Y/N) who is huddled over the assignment looking through all of her answers over and over again. Reggie smiles as he takes his seat next to her. “Morning.”

(Y/N) looks up from the paper, giving him a small smile as she puts the paper down and pushes her glasses up. “Morning to you, stink bomb. Did you run to school?” (Y/N) chuckles as she takes her glasses off and folds them, placing them carefully onto the table. “Either that, or a skunk decided you weren’t their friend today.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.” Reggie says sarcastically. “I had morning practice with the Bulldogs and I barely worked out over the summer so my body feels like an aching old man. And I did take a shower, just thought you should know that, so you don’t think I’m some gross jock.”

“I wouldn’t find you gross. Sweating is our body excreting liquids when we overheat so it can cool us down, yes it can stink but body odour is more of a self-care thing or a diet related issue, has nothing to do with sweat.” (Y/N) states. “How’d you find the assignment?” Reggie shrugs and slides her sheet he filled out, she took it and scans the paper fairly quickly. “You did decent, you couldn't probably get a 67, better than Topic 5 at least. The issue is, you don’t really explain things properly, you know where to end but you don’t know the start. Science is all about being able to explain the hows, because the end result is great but what people care more about is how you got there in the first place.”

“I have issues with explaining my own Subway order, how do you expect me to explain this?” Reggie raises the paper up and sighs, taking his notebook and study guide out. “Honestly, I read and I get the stuff but it’s just…”

“Articulating it into words that’s hard?” (Y/N) completes the sentence and Reggie nods. “It takes practice as much as studying does. Biology is a very memorization based subject and the more you train your mind to do it, the better you’ll get.” She rips off a piece of paper from her notebook, scribbles something on it and tucks it into the pocket of Reggies hoodie. “If you ever need a tutor, just give me a heads up, you seem like the only person in this entire school that looks at me like I’m human.”

“People can be stupid and currently, this entire school is. You didn’t choose to be up there, did you?” (Y/N) shakes her head. “Then I see no reason to wreck you over that and the rumours, they’re just as ridiculous. I’m pretty sure it’s been hell being sheltered from it all and I’m sure a lot of things are unusual and strange to you, the least people here could do is make you feel the littlest bit welcome.”

“Some have, Veronica was my tour guide but I was a bitch and slid her away. I try to be nice and whatnot but with my mother and all, I’ve only ever known how to be a trash talking socialite that takes pride in the glamour they’re encompassed with. I’ve known nothing other than bitchy people and self-centred jerks that only use others for granted, this is the most amount of ‘normal’ I’ve been. And I guess letting people be scared of me is my own way of making sure people don’t get close to me because I honestly don’t know what I’d do. I push away in fear of what I may encounter if I get too close.” (Y/N) pauses as she takes a moment to capture her breath again, the words spilling open faster than she could contain, Reggie sits there dumbfounded, eyes wide and mouth pursed together. “I’m sorry, you aren’t my therapist. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

Reggie waves her off. “No. Don’t apologize. You clearly haven’t had anyone who would bother to listen to what you have to say. Veronica is a decent person and hey, this can be a stepping stone. Don’t be scared, you’re here to learn just like anybody else.” Reggie reaches out and squeezes (Y/N)’s hand, causing her to flinch for a bit before giving Reggie a small, slightly painful smile. “If you’re down for it, I’d like to go down to Pops and maybe talk about a study plan?”

“It’s a deal.”

As Reggie waves goodbye to coach, he suddenly gets pulled aside to under the bleachers. Cheryl places a finger up to her lips telling him to be quiet. “What the hell Cheryl?” She lets go of her grip on his hoodie and double checks her nails and grins to see that they’re still in their pristine state. “What do you want?”

“Why do you always assume I want something, Reggie? Can’t we just talk?” Cheryl pouts.

“Because if you wanted to ‘just talk’ why would you pull me under here?” Reggie questions, straightening out his crumpled jacket. “Make it quick, I’m meeting..”

“The freak of nature that is (Y/N)?”

“She isn’t a freak, I’ll have you know she’s a decent human. People like you need to stop profiling her just because she’s been involuntarily hidden up in that hill since she moved here. You know Cheryl, it wouldn’t hurt to try and be nice to someone at least once in your life.”

Cheryl scoffs as she locks her arms together. “Please, I’m nice. Besides, you want to step down your tone, mister. You do not want to be crossing me after what happened over summer. Wouldn’t want that to be broadcasted to the whole school, do you? Hm? Oh, imagine what it could do to your potential scholarships.” As she taunts, Reggie grips tightly to the strap of his bag.

“What do you want?” He whispers angrily through his teeth.

“Assist me in the complete social annihilation of (Y/N). Execute my plan, ruin (Y/N) forever and then you can forget that I ever found out about your summer troubles.” Reggie’s eyes widen in complete disbelief. How low can she get?

“I am not going to do that! Why on earth would you want to even think of that? What has she ever done to you? What has she ever done to you thats so horrible that it warrants you the brain power to want to take her down?” Reggie inquires, not only down to the fact that he’s clueless as to why Cheryl would be interested in tearing (Y/N) apart but because he can’t stand the idea to see her get remotely hurt, she’s just someone that wants to live a normal life.

“It’s not about what she hasn’t done but more about what she can do. She threatens everything I have worked so hard for and I am not allowing some new trash to come in and think she can own the place just because everyone thinks she is a demented freak! That is not the kind of image I imagined for this school.” Cheryl flings her hair back. “All I need you to do is reel her in, then break her.”

“And why me?”

“Because you’re the only person she seems to talk to and the only guy in this school that has somewhat of a decent brain. And the only guy that isn’t looking at her like she’s a trophy to be won.” Cheryl sighs. “It’s the classic revenge plan, a John Tucker situation if you will. Date her, make her fall in love with you, then completely break her heart at formals and make her never want to come back to this school.” Reggie was on the verge of counteracting Cheryl’s plan, only for her to stop him from doing so. “I’ve got more dirt on you than you do on me, do this or your future will be as lifeless as hers.”

An uncomfortable pause falls between the two of them, Cheryl waiting for his answer and Reggie debating between his morals and his future, a future his father has worked on his entire life and something he’s dreamed about since he’s a kid. A cutthroat industry like pro football weighted heavily and Reggie curses in his mind as he looks at Cheryl in front of him.

“Fine. I’ll do it.”

Taglist: @serpent-squad @daddyxpea @notanotherfangirl @superhalsteads @abbigail-583 @static-heart-break @thesouthside-princess @idontknowhatiwant168393 @djdre92 @maryosprinkle @jimmys-afterlife-love @sarasmismyonlydefence @ccshbh @sweetpeaprompts @fantasiasvt @flannels-and-fire @xeniarocks

Want to be added to the taglist? Just message me and I’ll add you into the next chapter!

[toobananadinosaur]

Create NFT Marketplace

cryptographic money Bitcoin is a decentralized distributed (P2P) computerized cash. Decentralized implies, the cash isn't claimed by a confidential bank or government! Which likewise implies you don't depend on a center man or outsider for exchanges. The exchange is straightforward and the organization is available to anybody.

The Bitcoin digital money is signified by a ₿ and contracted as either BTC or XBT. A Bitcoin is separable into 8 decimal spots. More modest unit is known as a millibitcoin or mBTC and the littlest unit is satoshis or sat. 100,000 satoshi approaches 1 mBTC. 1000 mBTC approaches 1 BTC.

Portmanteau of Bit and Coin, the computerized cash utilizes a public record called Bitcoin Blockchain. The blockchain records every one of the exchanges and broadcasts them to associated networks. All exchanges are put away freely which implies it's not mysterious.

Like all cryptographic forms of money Bitcoin is an exploratory token and is still a lot of in a formative stage.

Who made Bitcoin?

This one's a grub for a wide range of charming paranoid fears! The organizer behind Bitcoin is by all accounts a pseudonymous individual/gathering of people called Satoshi Nakamoto. There are a few gauges that Satoshi's record may be holding around 1 million bitcoins! Satoshi Nakamoto is likewise the name of a Nobel candidate in monetary science from Japan. Anyway the said individual has never professed to be the organizer behind Bitcoin. Non-Fungible Token Marketplace Development Services Another hypothesis is that the principal individual to get a Bitcoin probably been Satoshi. Tragically, that individual Hal Finney died because of ALS in 2014.

One more paranoid notion (even flippantly ridiculed by Elon Musk) is that Satoshi could be a gathering of organizations. "Sa" from Samsung, "Toshi" from Toshiba, "Naka" from Nakamichi and "Moto" from Motorola. While we might in all likelihood never know who the real organizer is, we will be for all time obliged for the staggering computerized innovation that has changed the world.

The area name for was enrolled on 18 Aug 2008. The cash was first mined on third Jan 2009 when Satoshi started the bitcoin network. Hal Finney got the initial ten Bitcoins from Nakamoto. The primary known business exchange of Bitcoin happened when Laszlo Hanyecz purchased two pizzas worth BTC 10,000 from Jeremy Sturdivant.

How Bitcoin functions?

Bitcoin is like a virtual kuber ka khajana that is carefully mined. Bitcoin deals with a public record known as the Bitcoin Blockchain. A blockchain is essentially a chain of blocks containing Hash of the former block, driving upto the principal Genesis block. Each block conveys a particular exchange/information. Every exchange comprises of sources of info and results.

In the blockchain, Bitcoins are enlisted to individual Bitcoin addresses. You can make one by picking an irregular confidential key. On the off chance that a confidential key is lost, the bitcoin organization won't perceive the proof of proprietorship, delivering the property unusable and obliviated. Around 20% of the bitcoins made have been lost uptill now.

Nakamoto set up the organization with the end goal that the complete number of Bitcoins never surpasses 21 million. Around 3 million bitcoins are as yet accessible for mining. At the ongoing rate, the last lump of the blocks will be mined in 2140.

How to utilize Bitcoin?

Details to the side, how can one claim a bitcoin and move one?

You want to make a confidential key. NFT marketplace development need to have a wallet to hold your virtual monetary standards. There are 4 kinds of wallets - (1) Software wallets, (2) Cold capacity (3) Hardware wallets and (4) Paper wallets. You can do most of your exchanges through crypto trades. Bitcoin can be utilized for a ton of stuff. In spite of the fact that it is still exceptionally flighty, many nations, organizations and substances have opened entryways for BTC. With the approach of Metaverse, it is staying put as all exchanges in the virtual world would be founded on virtual monetary forms of your decision.

Top stages and applications in India to exchange Bitcoin

Why is Cryptocurrencies So Special? Cryptos are worldwide, profoundly secure, private and irreversible. Around 20 million Indians at present hold cryptographic money. 60% of the all out crypto financial backers are between 18-34 year old.

India is likewise the second in quickest reception of cryptos followed by Vietnam. Albeit the Indian government has presented 30% expenses on all types of VDAs (Virtual Digital Assets), Cryptos actually doesn't have a lawful status in the country. Anyway with developing agreement and further changes, computerized monetary standards will turn into a standard.

[elonasblog]

Do Pisces and Sagittarius Get Along

Pisces and Sagittarius Zodiac Compatibility - Nature and Nuances

The blazing, free-streaming and dynamic Sagittarius is joined forces with the sort, empathetic, and enthusiastic Pisces. Could the fire sign and the water sign make something extraordinary with one another, for one another?

Discover underneath:

Pisces and Sagittarius  Along

Pisces is the last zodiac sign and is addressed by the image of a Fish. These people are known for their imaginative ability, delicate character and sympathetic nature. They are sentimental people who put stock in hopeful connections and wonderful accomplices. They are benevolent, delicate, and very mindful towards their friends and family.

Untamed, uninhibited and free-streaming are Sagittarius character characteristics who carry on with their life at a stupendous scale. They are very idealistic, overflow elation consistently and have an honest interest towards the littlest of things life. This is a Fire sign that comes 10th in the zodiac graph and is addressed by the image of an Archer.

Pisces and Sagittarius Love Match

The shared fascination between the water sign and the fire sign is uninhibited and phenomenally incredible from their absolute first association with one another. They track down one another amazingly alluring and the science they share is energizing, invigorating and captivating for both Pisces and Sagittarius.

There can be a couple of obstacles that the Pisces man and Sagittarius lady might look after the initial not many months of their relationship, however. They have a couple of convictions and qualities that negate one another. Notwithstanding, they likewise have a couple of likenesses that can help them track down a center ground usually. On a comparable note, the Sagittarius man and Pisces lady might need to go through some choppiness at first too however they will figure out how to adapt ready and discover approaches to interface.

Upsides and downsides of Pisces and Sagittarius Compatibility

Experts of the Pisces Sagittarius Relationship:

The greatest likeness between these two signs Sagittarius and Pisces is that they have very innovative personalities and enormously natural characters. They have some comparable interests as far as diversions and different exercises, which, thus, can allow them a genuine opportunity to become acquainted with and see one another.

The Fish and the Archer are both kind and merciful people. They invest wholeheartedly in aiding others and accordingly, will consistently stretch out magnanimous help to one another in the midst of hardship.

Cons of the Pisces Sagittarius Relationship:

Signs are that since both Pisces and Sagittarius tend to live in their fantasy lands more than they do in the present, they may wind up getting cruel rude awakenings occasionally. This will startle them and cause alarm in their crystal gazing couple similarity.

While Pisces is patient and Sagittarius is receptive, they probably won't take this quite well and fall into a passionate disturbance in such circumstances. It is improbable that they will help each other out of such issues, considering they will be excessively caught up with attempting to get heading of their own self first.

The enthusiastic reliance of the Pisces may be confining for the Sagittarius, while the blazing temper of the Archer probably won't look good with the delicate idea of the Fish.

End:

On the zodiac graph, Pisces and Sagittarius pair will experience issues working with one another. There are an excessive number of contrasts between the two and some crucial pieces of their characters conflict savagely with one another.

Nonetheless, both these signs have a genuine feeling of commitment to their accomplice and a flawless feeling of confidence in their capacity to make a relationship work. They are both exceptionally liberal and decided spirits, and on the off chance that they figure out how to see each other through the difficult stretches, they can swear by these characteristics to construct a manageable relationship with one another.

The strength of the Sagittarius can mix perfectly with the sympathy of the Pisces to make a novel bond for the pair, if and when they choose to venture out with one another, for one another!

[kanewillamsonop]

Buy Fundamentals of Physics by Walker

Fundamental of Physics is an efficient study of the regular world, especially the communication among issue and energy. It is a control that endeavors to evaluate reality through an exact use of perception combined with rationale and reason.To utilize such a control, you should initially comprehend certain essentials. Simply by learning the nuts and bolts of physical science would you be able to expand upon it and jump further into this field of science. Regardless of whether you are seeking after a vocation in Physics or simply intrigued by its discoveries, it positively is interesting to find out about. To start the study of material science, you should initially get what physical science really implies. Getting what falls inside the domain of physical science and what doesn't helps center the field of study so you can define significant physical science questions. Behind each question in physical science lies four vital terms you will need to get: speculation, model, hypothesis and law. Fundamental of Physics can be either test or hypothetical. In exploratory physical science, physicists address a logical issue utilizing strategies like the logical strategy trying to demonstrate a speculation. Hypothetical Physics is frequently more theoretical in that physicists are centered around creating logical laws, like the hypothesis of quantum mechanics. These two types of Physics are identified with one another and associated with different types of logical study. Regularly, trial Physics will test the speculations of hypothetical physical science. Physicists themselves can represent considerable authority in an assortment of fields, from cosmology and astronomy to numerical physical science and nanotechnology. Physical science additionally assumes a part in different fields of science, like science and science. The fundamental of Physics is to foster exact models of actual reality. The most ideal situation is to foster a progression of principal rules to portray how these models work. These standards are every now and again called "laws" after they have been utilized effectively for a long time.

Physical science is convoluted, yet it does in a general sense depend on various acknowledged laws of nature. Some are verifiable and weighty disclosures in science. These incorporate Sir Isaac Newton's Law of Gravity just as his Three Laws of Motion. Albert Einstein's Theory of Relativity and the laws of thermodynamics additionally fall into this classification. Current material science is working off those fantastic realities to examine things, for example, quantum physical science which investigates the imperceptible universe. Additionally, molecule Physics looks to comprehend the littlest pieces of issue known to man. This is the field where peculiar words like quarks, bosons, hadrons, and leptons enter the logical discourse that stands out as truly newsworthy today. The devices that physicists use range from the physical to the theoretical. They incorporate equilibrium scales and laser pillar producers just as arithmetic. Understanding this wide scope of apparatuses and the techniques for applying them is vital for understanding the cycle that physicists go through in examining the actual world. The actual apparatuses incorporate things like superconductors and synchrotrons, which are utilized to make extraordinary attractive fields. These can be applied in examinations like the Large Hadron Collider or for all intents and purposes in the advancement of attractive levitation trains. Arithmetic is at the core of physical science and is crucial in all fields of science. As you study fundamental of Physics, essentials like utilizing critical figures and going past the nuts and bolts of the decimal standard for measuring will be significant. Math and physical science go a lot further also and ideas like vector math and the numerical properties of waves are urgent to crafted by numerous physicists.

CBSE and ICSE Board Sample Papers from Oswal Publishers. Buy fundamentals of physics by Walker and books for all subjects Maths, Science, Social and Languages.

[mjallanwrites]

Love Me

LOVE ME ( IF THAT’S WHAT YOU WANNA DO ) — in which ( Y/N ) and peter have been best friends since middle school despite the fact that she’s constantly been pegged as shy and withdrawn. ever since they entered high school ( Y/N ) has had a small crush on peter, but remains convinced that he’s never seemed to notice because she’s always been lost behind her giant frames

WARNINGS — none !!

WORD COUNT — 1.5k

REQUEST — can you do a drabble where the reader is the nervous one and has a huge crush on peter and he sees her one day without her glasses and realizes his feelings

AUTHOR’S NOTE — so i don’t wanna get ahead of myself or anything, but honestly y’all i’m super proud of myself for getting this one out in a timely manor. anyways, i hope this drabble lives up to your vision and thank you so much for requesting it ! also if anyone needs me to tag anything, let me know and i’ll be happy to add it to the warnings. !!

“PETER DID YOU hear what I just said?” The question is sullied by a sardonic kind of bitterness, and had it come from the mouth of anyone else—it would have read more like an affirmation of sorts. Of course Peter hadn't been paying attention, the capricious nature of his gaze ( which for the record, always seemed to return to the foggy window pane in five minute intervals )  had corroborated that very fact. But ( Y/N ) seems to posses an infinite amount of patience, and because she’s his best friend she’s polite enough to overlook his incessant flaw.

Sheepishness replaces the usual softness of Peter’s features, his smile wavering in the slightest fashion. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been a bit—”

“Distracted? Yeah I can tell.” ( Y/N ) adjusts the thick frame of black spectacles until they rest atop the bridge of her nose. Peter can’t help but to notice that she’s always careful not to smudge the lenses. She’s meticulous like that—straining over the minor details which would elicit indifference from most.

Spoiler alert: she isn’t most people.

“Hey! You have my full attention now, I promise.” And for five minutes he means it, listening intently to the girl who’d always prioritized physics over physical education and read Fitzgerald for fun. Only verb conjugations and the laws of grammar don’t intrigue him nearly as much as intercepting bank robberies or engaging in battle with the Avengers themselves. It was as if becoming Spider-man had cast a dullness over the intricacies of ordinary life—kaleidoscope colours gingerly draining from blank sky and left to saturate the worn out soles of his sneakers. The only time he’d ever felt some semblance of engagement was when school clothes had been swapped for red and blue spandex.

What could he say—being a masked hero could do to that to a person.

“It’s fine Peter, we can just do this another time. I have to go home soon anyways.” Peter can sense the  tinge of disappointment in her tone, it’s tethered to the faint lilt of her words—entwined like vine to stone. And he hates that he always seems to let her down, especially in times where she needs him most.

The pair had been inseparable since middle school, venturing through central park hand in hand and padding along beneath sweltering sun until the heat seemed to consume them entirely. They would feed throngs of ducks who never failed to linger by the shallow ponds, content with both the day and each other. She’d been his rock for what felt like an entirety, a paperweight which kept him fastened to the ground when his personal trials and tribulations threatened to blow him away. But above all she was tempered despite all irrationalities and empirical injustices. Perhaps it stemmed for an inherent timidness which she seemed to carry upon her shoulders like a perennial burden, or maybe she had just been that good at reservation—he could never quite put his finger on it.

Peter’s posture is stiff, as if one wrong move and her apathetic disposition may just contort into exasperation. “I swear I’ll make it up to you! Tomorrow—at that ice cream parlour you like.” He watches as ( Y/N )’s gaze seems to falter, and being the observant person that he was—he can’t help but to notice that she never seems to meet his eyes. “I’ll meet you there after school, my treat.”

( Y/N ) fiddles with the remaining notebooks which rest idly on the table. “Yeah that’s fine I guess, I-I mean you really don’t have to. But if you really wanna go then that’s cool.” She smiles that flimsy grin of hers that she’s worn since she was twelve years old, only now it’s less toothy. ( Y/N ) stopped baring ivories when she was fourteen, despite the fact the braces her parents invested thousands on ended up doing her a world of good.

“Great I’ll see you then.” Peter slips his phone into his pocket before giving her hand a light squeeze.

“Looking forward to it.” 

And as always, she really means it.

Peter Parker considers himself to be good with faces.

He can recall the identities of mask clad vigilantes who’d only exposed that particular chink in their armour for a brief moment, and the distinct profile of every librarian who’s ever shushed both him and an overzealous Ned Leeds. Such a tendency wouldn't come as a shock to those who actually knew the boy. He exuded a natural brilliance which seemed to recede that of his peers, and should he have made his intelligence the focal point of his persona—perhaps those who hadn’t known him would have dubbed him a genius. Genius’ had a tendency to notice things; they were constantly alert as if a peculiar kind of hyperactivity replaced the vitality which coursed through overt veins.

Peter was no different than the very people who never seemed to overlook even the littlest of things.

So you can only imagine his shock when a perky—and barely recognizable— ( Y/N Y/L/N ) arrives at Eddie’s Sweet Shop, clad in a floral patterned dress comprised of thin material and long sleeves. Honey lacquered nails clutch at the baby pearls which adorn her wrists—a family heirloom that she’d always donned in memory of her grandmother. On any other day, the beat up converse she’d purposely slipped on her feet that afternoon ( her solid attempt at contrasting her dress ) would look wrong—something so obviously out of place. Today they resinate with Peter like the ballet flats she’s grown so used to wearing for the sake of appearances. And it’s not that his inherent shock stems from a sudden recognition of her beauty—because she’s always been beautiful and she always would be. No, the jarring nature of his response stems from the unfamiliarity of character. The way she seems to have blossomed before a crowd of oblivious strangers, confidence etched into the crescent shape her mouth effortlessly conforms to. Light shades of pink stain the surface of her cheeks, and he knows it’s because she’s stood in the sun for far too long. More than that, the chunky frames of her glasses are missing in action, and for the first time ever—she’s visibly unfazed.

Yeah, his best friend has always been beautiful—but he’s never really seen her like this before.

“Hey ( Y/N )! You look, uh—wow, I mean, you look good.” His stuttering seems to intrigue a smiling ( Y/N ), which turns his own cheeks a deep red.

The giggle which escapes ( Y/N )’s lips is airy and delicate, and should it have been something of physical tangibility, it would have broke underneath the burden of her weighty expectations. “Thanks Peter. You don’t think it’s too much?” There’s a sudden crook in her right eyebrow as she gestures to her lanky form.

Peter holds back a nervous gulp. “N-No, definitely not.”

“Well that’s a relief.” She slides onto the stool next to him, and for a moment his throat seems constrict upon catching the light floral scent of her perfume. Was it possible for someone to smell pretty? Peter wants to ask her, but settles for requesting a menu instead.

“So I was thinking we could share a banana split—y’know, like when we were kids.” He begins to fiddle with the menu’s laminated edge, and ( Y/N ) watches him like it’s the most endearing thing she’s ever seen.

“That sounds great, but aren’t we technically still kids?” There’s a teasing glint in her eye, a stark disparity to a cautiousness which laces her words. And to anyone looking from the outside in—she was right. Peter and ( Y/N ) were nothing more than two kids who’d always harboured feelings for one another, though neither of them had ever been brave enough to act on such a sentiment. Instead, they continued forward with one another—ceaselessly pursuing the future with no intention to ever part, even if it meant an eternity of friendship and friendship alone.

The nights in which ( Y/N ) buried her head in the crook of Peter’s neck on her fire escape, tracing constellations with yearning fingers and telling tales of both science and fiction had been enough to cement an emotional attachment she could never quite shake. She’d loved him in a childish kind of way.

A stolen kisses on the cheek by the duck pond kind of way.

And Peter had loved her too, he always had. He loved the way she’d never been seen without a novel of some sort tucked at her side—pages tattered and cover torn because she always read her books more than once. The way she never grew weary of him, even when he lost focus during their study sessions in the library. And how he could know everything there was to know about her—only to reevaluate it all by the next morning. Because she’d never just been one thing, even when she was shy and vulnerable there’d still been a confidence to her; a security which transcended all hesitation.  

Aren’t we technically still kids?

“Yeah—I guess we are.”

Two kids who were just friends—but loved each other nonetheless.