#um. i heart gwen & hope she gets through this

[blackberryjqm]

close enough welcome back the archivist??

[esmedelacroix]

All the ways I defy you.

pairing: exboyfriend!miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: Since the end of your relationship, Miguel has been acting strange. At home, at work, and even around his own friends. He even goes so far as to break work rules all, for you?

cw: very angsty, depressive behaviors, tiny suggestive part

a/n: Hey! Just wanted to say thanks so much for all the love on the first part I uploaded a while ago! This is coming to you very late I know. I was a bit stressed with finals and moving out of my dorm. Here's part two, I hope you enjoy it! A comment, like, or repost is always appreciated.

previous part | miguel masterlist

*listen to this song on loop for the best experience !

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Of course, when I thought that I could rid her of my life for good, the universe sent her flying in my direction. I do not want to be near her. Not because I hate her but because I know I make her upset. I don't want her to be around someone she associates terrible feelings with(me). Yet there she was drenched at our front door.

"I'm currently on the hunt for an apartment, but I didn't know this was going to happen—so—sniff—I'll have to stay here for a while. Is that okay?" my sweet girl asked as she averted her eyes. Drenched in rain, runny mascara, and her tears. Voice quivering and body shaking.

"Yes, of course, yeah, come in," I responded a bit too quickly, opening my door wider for her to enter. I stepped aside and rummaged through the bathroom getting her a warm fluffy towel.

"Um, I'll take the couch so you can sleep in our—my room," I said, correcting myself. Which only made her tears spill more.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yes, you'll catch a cold if you don't," I assured.

"Do you even care?" she muttered under her breath.

Yes, Of course I do baby you're my everything.

"I'll be in my office if you need anything," I sighed.

. . .

Sleeping uncomfortably on your couch is not for that week. But that didn't compare to the feeling of hearing my ex-girlfriend crying herself to sleep in the bed we once shared. Our physical proximity was so close. All I had to do was get up, open the door, and cuddle her. Tell her everything is going to be okay.

How can one be so close to someone but so far at the same time? The paradox of my situation with my ex-girlfriend tore my heart, mind, and body apart.

Just then her cries and sniffs died down and I could hear her familiar soft snore that she swore she didn't have. When I closed my eyes to sleep, the first thought that came to my head was her. Her sleeping form. How peaceful her face looked. The way her chest rose and fell as she breathed. My perfect girl was the first and last thing I thought about. Her mere existence in my imagination had lulled me to sleep. Fuck, I made a mistake letting her go, I thought to myself.

. . .

"Hobie Brown," I said sternly.

"I already know, I get it, but things happen, mate," he shrugged, foreseeing the lecture he was about to receive from me.

"No, I don't think you 'get it' because you broke one of the only three key rules you have to follow here," I interjected.

"Just let him off the hook this time," Gwen interrupted.

"No. I can't. You, Miles, and Pavitr could learn from this as well. Don't disrupt the canon, report to me after every single mission, and never, ever, ever leave your post," I lectured.

"What if something important happens?" Miles questions.

"Nothing is more important than keeping the canon intact," I snapped.

"At this rate, you and your girlfriend will break up before I finish my written report. She must really enjoy your relationship; If you could even call it that," Hobie smirked as he walked away.

That shut me up. Because what he predicted was not far from reality. Are my rules too much? I couldn't say anything back to him because he might have been correct. For the first time ever Hobie Brown got the last word. The rest of the afternoon I reflected on myself and my rules. Not leaving your post is important, I told myself.

. . .

"I got your text," Peter B sighed as he took a seat next to Miguel in the cafeteria.

"You broke up with her?" he asked, quivering a brow.

"Yeah, it was just too much," I sighed, rubbing my hand along my face.

"What do you mean? She's like the best thing to ever happen to you. The first time I ever saw you genuinely laugh was the day you brought her to work and she kept cracking the worst dad jokes. And you're telling me you broke up with her?" he rambled.

"Peter, I was making her unhappy," I admitted.

"Then just stop making her unhappy. It's as easy as that. Knowing her, she probably communicated what was bothering her with you too," he said sternly.

"I can't just stop following protocol," I said, stating the obvious.

"For her? For the women you love? You should be able to," Peter sighed. My lungs felt like they had been attacked by a million bees. Palms were sweating buckets at the mere thought of experiencing my baby Gabriella disappear in my arms again. Her painful screams filled my ears. The grief-stricken reality that her daddy, her "hero", couldn't save her. Amid my miniature panic attack, Peter placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. Successfully pulled me from the nightmare I was reliving back into the present.

"But, Peter, Gabi, I—I can't let that happen again. What if a parent, just like me and you, loses their kid the same way I did? I just-I can't do it. I have to keep the canon undisturbed," I said, stumbling over my words.

"Miguel, that isn't going to happen again, you have us now. You have help," Peter said a little softer, noticing that he hit a nerve.

"I would never forgive myself if millions of families, partners, and could-have-been end or cease to exist because of me," I admitted.

"Miguel, if you were to leave your post, you would have someone fill in for you. You give yourself all of these extra jobs that you don't need to be doing," Peter insisted.

"But if I don't do it, someone's going to make a mistake," I insisted.

"Or you can trust in the people that you hand-picked for this job," Peter suggested.

"It's more complicated than that," I rebutted.

"No, it really isn't. You're just making it more complicated. You need to trust in your team," he finished.

"And maybe get your girl back?" he suggested as he got up to get Mayday from Gwen's lap to go change her diapers.

. . .

You called out of work sick. Truthfully, you were glued to the bed. You didn't have the desire to get up or do much of anything. You hadn't showered that morning or eaten breakfast. All you did was stare at the ceiling, out the window, and the framed photo of you and Miguel that he hadn't put away yet.

Tears stained your cheeks, your eyes swelled to oblivion, and your stomach was empty and practically eating itself. The refrigerator called out to me but I didn't answer. I couldn't. Does he even care like I do? You asked yourself.

Staring blankly at the limewash accent wall of your once-shared room that you were considered a guest in. Just then your phone rang. You shot up and immediately checked who it was. You shamelessly smiled when the contact name "my miguel 💕" popped up on your screen. You clicked the answer button after taking a deep breath.

"Hello?" you said.

"Hi, you're probably at work right now, sorry to be a bother," he started.

"No, not at all. I called out today. I've been feeling under the weather," you assured.

"Do you want me to bring you anything for dinner? I'm going to get Chinese takeout tonight," he said.

"Yeah, I'll have whatever you're having," you responded.

"Okay, I'll be back around 7:00 with dinner. You know where the medicine is, take care of yourself please," he assured.

"Okay, I'll be expecting you," you replied before hanging up first.

He told you he'd be home around seven but you didn't count on it. He broke most promises anyway.

You decided to finally shower and have a small snack. You sat on the couch with your Kindle in hand. The couch smelled like him. The throw pillows smelled like his lavender-scented shampoo. You couldn’t help but wrap yourself in the blankets he had used the night before. It didn’t compare his hugs but it was good enough for now.

You spent some time reading some romance novels. Putting yourself in the shoes of the heroine and pretending that the love interest was him. Pretending that it was Miguel who ran all the way to your house while it was raining to hold you and wipe your tears in the dead of the night. Instead, you sat in your living room wondering whether or not he would actually do that for you.

You heard keys in the door and it opened soon after. You got up and slowly approached it with a pillow in hand as a weapon. You had no idea who could be dropping by the apartment at this time. Just then Miguel turned the corner takeout in hand and you wound up to hit the perpetrator. “Whoa calm down, it’s just me,” Miguel chuckled.

You let out a long exhale in relief. “I just wasn’t expecting you to be home so early,” he sighed as you put the pillow back on the couch.

“What do you mean? I said I’d be here around this time and you said and I quote, ‘I’ll be expecting you’,” he teased.

“Well I’m just kind of used to you saying things and not delivering,” you said under your breath loud enough for him to hear as you helped him unpack the food he got and set it on the living room coffee table.

“Well I decided to be less of a dick today,” he quipped.

“Should’ve done that when we were still together,” you answered half-joking.

He gave you an apologetic look. His mouth opened then closed. Like he wanted to say something but he stopped himself. Like he always did. I wish you could tell me what’s on your mind, you thought to yourself.

“I’ve been pretty shitty huh?” he said with a pained expression on his face.

“It’s not your fault,” you assured taking a seat next to him.

He put something random on Netflix to watch while you got water for the two of you. As usual, he never read the synopsis of anything he watched and accidentally put on 365 days. Classic Miguel. “Oh god, this is a bit inappropriate,” he commented, almost choking on his lo mien.

“It’s nothing we’ve never done before,” you smirked.

You watched his cheeks flush out of the corner of your eyes. He hugged the my melody plush you had gifted him a while ago a little tighter. He adjusted his glasses sheepishly.

You recalled the time you asked him about his glasses. Him being ashamed when he admitted that he needed to use glasses whenever he looked at a screen because played too many video games as a kid.

Suddenly, the TV blended in with all the other noises in the background. The sounds of cars honking on the streets outside the window, the rain constantly hitting the top of the air conditioner, the soft hum of the drying machine, and the—tick—tock—of the clock on the wall.

It was just you and Miguel in that room then. Stealing glances at each other. Contemplating whether or not you should release the many unspoken words bottled up inside. “I’m moving out in 2 days. I found a place,” you said, breaking the silence.

“Oh, that’s….great. Seriously, good for you,” he says looking away. What you didn’t know was that Miguel wasn’t congratulating you. He was trying to convince himself that you leaving was a good thing. That it was good for you and for him. That it was everything he wanted.

You could hear the pain in his voice and although you could see his face. You knew the downcast expression that was painted on it.

. . .

Two days went by way too quickly. Two days of sleeping on the couch. Two days of coming home early and on time to spend time with my loved ones before she left. Two days of baking sweet treats while we watched Romance movies. Two days of soaking in her presence before it was completely gone from my life.

As soon as I knew it, that morning when I decided to help her move her things out instead of going to work. I put Jess in charge of the morning instead which she was ecstatic about.

Once the final box was loaded in the moving truck we faced each other at the front door. The front door I’ve her drunk body through. The front door we used to kiss at when we couldn’t wait to get in our house. The front door she knocked at with all of her stuff when we decided to move in together. The front door where I would chase after her after an argument. The front door I revealed I was Spiderman at. The front door she came to drenched with rain in tears the day I broke up with her. Which was now the front door that we would say our last goodbyes at.

We looked into each other's eyes for a good 30 seconds. Tears filled her eyes and mine. "Just, come here big guy," she sighed, opening her arms to me.

I was hesitant. If I touched I was afraid I wouldn't want to let go and I would hold on forever. All I could control was the now. So I pushed those thoughts of fear away and I held her. Her arms wrapped around my waist. One of my hands rested on her back while the other was on the back of her head caressing her hair. For once I built up the courage to say what was on my mind without holding myself back. I took a deep breath in before admitting, "I'll miss you,"

"I still love you," she replied before letting go and walking out the door for the last time.

I heard the door click and it was final. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

. . .

I felt lighter as I walked down the hallway to my office. Memories of her still played endlessly in my head but I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulder when I took Peter's advice and split my jobs up with my coworkers.

Today most of the spider society would be in Pavitr's universe catching any extra anomalies that slipped under our radar. As well as closing the quantum hole that was starting to form. We had almost all hands on deck in this assignment and I would be leading it.

The mission reached a new height for us when a Prowler variant from a different universe was found. Gwen and I were on him while also trying to keep the streets and civilians safe. Peter joined us soon after he finished his task. Just when we had cornered him, my watch began to ring. The contact name appeared as "Mi Corazon" and my heart dropped. My heart dropped because the only way she could call me on my watch was with the emergency one I had made for her. She was in trouble. I looked around at Peter and Gwen and they both urged me to answer. "If you need to go, you should go," Peter said, fighting off the Prowler who took this as an advantage to strike.

"Don't worry about us, we got this," Gwen called out, giving Peter a hand while looking back at me.

"But, I can leave my post. I made that rule," I stuttered as the ringing of my watch heightened my nerves. Peter gave me a look

"For her? For the women you love? You should be able to," the words played through my head as the worst possible time.

I can't, I can't do it. I have to stay, I thought to myself.

"You should be able to," I told myself.

As I battled with myself in my head, Peter snapped me out of it. "Answer that call, Miguel. I'm sure you'll regret it later if you don't. We got it covered. Trust in us? Please?" he called out.

Every cell in my body and even my brain told me not to answer the call and not to leave my post. But every beat in my heart and whisper of my soul told me to answer the damn call. So I did.

. . .

I had never swung through the streets of Nueva York faster than I was now. Her little voice fueled me even though biologically I should have no energy right now.

"Miguel I need you, I need you right now,"

If a branch was in my way I simply swung through. They would hit my body and bruise me a bit but none of that mattered right now.

"Someone broke into my house,"

Tears began to form in my eyes wondering if she was okay. If she was safe. “ You still there baby?” I asked as I swung past building upon building.

“Yeah—sniff—I’m here,” she replied. I let out a relieved sigh.

“Just wait right there, baby. Stay on the line, I’m almost there,” I breathed out.

. . .

You didn’t expect him to drop everything at an important mission for you. That's why you didn’t tell him that you knew who robbed your house.

That’s why you didn’t tell him that your ex-boyfriend had texted you the moment he found you that you and Miguel split up. The same ex was the reason why Miguel had to help you tighten your home security before you moved in with him.

So when Miguel found you on the ground a mess with tears still streaming down your face. You felt as though you had to tell him. "This was Kyle wasn't it?" he asked.

"How'd you know?" you asked, looking up at him, his arms still wrapped around you.

"I had a bodyguard follow you around for a while just to make sure you were okay while I figured out a time to help you install some security here. They noticed a guy was loitering outside of your apartment building a lot but they assumed he was a resident," he explained.

"I'm sorry I called you for this, I'm a mess and you were doing something important, probably," you rambled.

"No, nothing is more important than your safety and your happiness," he interrupted.

"Miguel, you don't have to say that to make me feel better. I know how important holding the Spider-Verse together is to you," you admitted.

"You're more important. So much more important. I'd sit and watch the whole Spider-Verse crumble and burn as long as I’m watching it with you safe in my arms," he confessed, holding you tighter.

"I'm sorry I never told you that sooner. Or showed that in my actions when we were together. There hasn't been a single day I haven't thought about you since I first met you. I thought that by breaking up with you, you'd be happier and you'd be free of me. It's hard being in a relationship with me and it's even harder to love me because I'm so flawed," he continued.

All the things he wanted to say but never dared to say to you spilled out at once.

"I just didn't want you to think I'm weak," he admitted sheepishly.

Shock struck your face. He's been struggling so much and you didn't know. "Oh Miguel, I could never think that. You are the strongest man I know. Once I had to bike up a very steep hill to get a bandage for my little brother who scraped his knee, it was really hard. Another time, I took a test that had 120 multiple-choice questions and two essays in two hours. That—was really hard. But the easiest thing I've ever had to do..." you started as you cupped his cheeks with both of your hands.

"...is love you. It's a pleasure—to love you, Miguel. You are not an inconvenience to me" you assured.

The two of you held each other on the floor of your trashed apartment. For the first time out of many to come, Miguel defied his protocols and the canon for you. He challenged his way of being for you. And he conquered his fear of opening up all to be a better man for you.

"I know it's hard for you to talk to me about what goes on in your head, and we'll work on it but this is a really good start. Thank you," you said.

"Does this mean we're back together? You really want to be with me after all this?" he asked.

"Yes, of course," you chuckled.

"I love you to the moon and back," he sighed.

. . .

to be continued ?

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taglist: @truth-dare-spin-bottles @hobiebrowns-wife @lazyjellyfish300 @scaryplanetdestroyer @lauraolar14 @reader-1290 @prettygirleli @spicydonut25

[cinamonqirl]

WOUNDS

(a little fluff and a little smut)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Injuried!Kate Bishop x Female Reader

Part II

Summary: Kate comes into your room through the window after a little mission, obviously hurt, hoping you'd take care of her. But while cleaning her wounds, something more happens.

Warnings: cursing. pet names (Kate calling r etc. princess). blood mentions. Kate touches r a little.

A/N: Hi! I wrote it a bit fast, but I hope it came out okay. I was inspired by the scene with Gwen and Peter Parker in "Amazing Spiderman". Because I haven't seen such an idea on tumblr yet, so I did it. Kate is such a boyfriend material. Have a good day/night! 💗

I appreciate every reblog and comment! 💐

*ೃ༄

You were reading a book when a knock on the window interrupted you. You can confirm that you almost had a heart attack, because who would enter your room in the evening through the window which is upstairs? But you felt relieved when you saw the silhouette of a familiar person, even though you had no idea what she was doing here.

Kate pointed to the window, show you to open it. You can see through the window that she was panting and leaning against the frame of the window but you didn’t really thought about it. You immediately got up from your bed and went to the window to let her in. The wind blew into your room as she slowly entered, making you shiver and you instinctively grabbed your arms from cold wind, just having short sleeve top on yourself, of course with shorts too.

"You need to start using the front door." You giggled but with skeptical grin remembering how many times Kate burst into your room through the window to see you with the excuse that your parents are at home and can't get in through the front door and it's still easy for her to climb under your window.

"Yeah." She chuckled hoarsely as she leaned her head against the wall, her voice is exhausted but still she has her stupid sense of humor in it. While closing the window you didn't notice that something was off about Kate, but then when you turned to her and found her leaning against the wall with a single cuts on her face and stain of blood on her hoodie, made your breath catch.

"Kate, are you okay?" You immediately rushed to her with your hands on her chest, then to her cut part of the bloody hoodie. But you quickly looked at her worriedly, waiting for an answer because you know an archer needs some time to breathe.

"Yeah, yeah." She panted as she pushed her head off the wall to look down at you. You were a little relieved that she gently grabbed your waist, and only now did you notice how close you were to her. Because out of sudden worry, you pounced on her completely ignoring the fact that you were so close, just to make sure she was okay. You blushed, lowering your eyes to look back at bloody stain. While the girl in front of you was catching her breath but couldn't help a small smirk creeping across her face as she saw your blush on your cheeks.

"Um maybe sit down somewhere." You thought as she gripped your waist tightly now for support. She nodded eagerly, and you helped her fall onto your couch panting her head tilted back against the cornea. Sitting beside her, you put your hair behind your ear to look at her wound while she is panting. Kate snorted softly under her breath thinking you were cute when you were so worried about her.

"I'm fine." She warned even though she was breathing hard as she saw you open your mouth to say something. You ignored her comment to glance at her bloody hoodie, which had been bothering you since you saw it. You lifted the fabric to reveal a slight gash on her stomach, which (thankfully) wasn't deep. It just seemed to be slightly cut with a penknife or something sharp. But you mentally cursed yourself for staring at her abs for so long. Why does she look so hot even though she's injured? You definitely shouldn't think that.

Kate glanced at the wound, grimacing. "Oh fuck." She sighed, throwing her head back. You carefully slid the fabric back to start asking questions.

"What happened?" You asked, raising your head to look at the archer in confusion. You were clearly stressed out, and playing with the fabric of her hoodie showed it.

"I was on mission, and one of the thugs must have cut me with a knife or something." She replied after a moment of catching her breath. You bit your lip nervously.

"Gosh Kate." You gave her a worried look while picking at the fabric of her hoodie. "Why aren't you wearing a suit?" You noticed looking at her plain gray hoodie and pair of jeans.

"It's damaged, and I was supposed to be on a really quick case." She explained calmly. "So I wear something random." She tired to give you explicable look, knowing you would think her reckless.

"You're such a dork." You announced with bittersweet look after staring at her for a while as Kate ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek and jaw twisting, knowing you didn't really mean it. But you’re not so surprised by her irrational actions.

"Okay." She mumbled, giving you a cocky smile before throwing her head back at your feistiness. You watched her with a slight smirk, biting your lip before you caught yourself staring at her. You grunted, trying to forget about the incident, and tried to ignore the strange feeling towards the archer who felt your eyes on herself.

"Okay, I'll go get something to clean your wounds. So that my parents don't find out." You pulled away from her trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach "So don't move from here." You warned, pointing to which Kate lifted sarcastic hands in defense.

"Sure princess." She giggled at your bossiness as you walked out the door. You won't admit it, but you liked the way she called you.

Kate watched intently as you burst into the room wobbly, with a rag and hydrogen dioxide and a few bandages in your hands. You can't deny that you're a little embarrassed by the way she looks at you.

"Okay I told my parents I'm doing homework, so they won't come here." You said hastily sitting down in the same place you were before. Kate nodded, watching you slightly nervous as you waved your arms around quickly.

You sighed and closed your eyes, relaxing for a moment. Kate raised her eyebrows at you, unable to understand why you were more nervous than she was. After a while you opened your eyes a little reassured "Are you sure you're more comfortable here?" You asked after a moment, noticing that the couch is quite small. Also, how close you are to the archer It knocks you off track. "You can always lie on my bed." You suggested noting that she would be much more comfortable there.

"No, no, that's okay." She denied immediately pulling herself up to sit up more, so she was even closer to you. She didn't mind lying in an uncomfortable position while you were closer than ever. "I will stain your lovely sheets" she took a looks amused at your sheets in a pattern of flowers which she thought was really cute and very much your style. You followed her gaze to actually snort at her comment. And Kate's smile widened seeing your cute smile.

"Okay. If you say so." You giggled, feeling a little shy. Well, you guess you have to endure this closeness. "Maybe first the wound on your belly." You said without waiting for an answer and dipping the a piece of cloth in hydrogen peroxide.

"Sure, but maybe I should take my hoodie off." She says grabbing the end of her hoodie to take it off completely, leaving her in black shirt. She quickly threw the sweatshirt next to her, grabbing her shirt, lifting it a little higher than before, probably to show off her form to you.

You looked at her one last time before placing a soaked cloth in substance over her wound carefully. A growl escaped her lips and her jaw clenched tight at the terible feeling. The only thing that calmed her down was your gentle touch on her skin. You noticed that her stomach muscles were now more visible, which knocked you out of your rhythm a bit, so you looked up to see if the black-haired girl had seen it, but she was too busy with the pain with her head tilted back. You bit your lip, trying to focus on cleaning her wound so your thoughts wouldn't accidentally wander elsewhere.

"Oh fuck, it hurts more than it seems." She gasped through clenched teeth.

"Just a moment." You calmed down, bringing her attention back to you. Kate watched intently as you bit your lip in concentration, thinking you looked cute. She could look at you all day without getting bored. You couldn't ignore the strange feeling in the pit of your stomach as you felt her eyes on you, and you made no secret of the fact that it knocked you out of your rhythm.

"Stop staring at me like that, you creep." You put down the cloth to slap her shoulder playfully to hide the red blush on your cheeks that Kate had already noticed anyway. She bit her lip at your flirty slap that so many girls have already used on Kate when she was teasing them.

"Are you really beating up an even more hurt person?" She asked sarcastically, watching you peel off the protective paper from the large bandage.

"Yes." You mumbled arrogantly as you applied a bandage to her stomach wound, sliding the fabric of her shirt behind her to obscure the alluring view of her stomach. Kate looked at you pretending to be offended, then snorted at your arrogance. You looked up to see the cuts on her face with the cloth in your hand, and Kate was so stared at you that she didn't understand your gesture and she just keep looking at you. You noticed this, and your courage dropped a bit, feeling overwhelmed by her gaze, not quite knowing what to do.

"Uhm can you move a little." You asked quietly, gesturing your hands shyly.

"Oh right." She did as you said and pulled herself up a bit to sit down, leaning one elbow on the cornea of ​​the pouffe and the other on the back of the backrest, holding on. You moved closer to the archer, trying to ignore her intense gaze on you. You cleared your throat, trying to focus on cleaning the wound on her forehead. Kate definitely noticed your nervousness, and she was a little amused by it, especially since you'd quieted down when you'd asked questions before and now you're kinda shy.

"Be glad I didn't kick you out, and that I'm helping you, Bishop." You said sarcastically with and attitude, sticking little piece of bandage to her chin wound. Why do her slits have to be so close to her mouth? It's like she specifically had said to these thugs to hit her face as close to her mouth as possible because she knew she was going to go to you, even though it sounds ridiculous, and she definitely she didn't ask for it.

"You wouldn't do that princess." She murmured, relaxing under your touch. She wanted to tease you a bit, and maybe something more would happen along the way.

"Princess?" You repeated, amused. You couldn't hide from yourself that you liked the name she called you again a little more and more.

"Mh." She crooned, sure you don't mind the nickname. And you don't mind at all, you feel special. You snorted in response, a mischievous smile appearing on her face. Sometimes you can't stand the way she teases you. You reached for a bandage to stick it over her slightly split nose. Her eyes stare at you even more, and you can tell she's doing it on purpose.

"Stop looking at me with those eyes, seriously." You said smiling shyly, shaking your head blushing. You really can't stand her eyes on you, because that gaze is utterly lustful. Her dark laid back eyes speak for themselves how much she wants you.

"What eyes?" She asked, pretending to be confused. But she knows exactly how she looks at you and how does that affect you. You lowered your head in disbelief, but quickly her hand found its way to your chin, lifting it slightly so that you would look at her. And your gaze finally slid to her lips and you mentally cursed yourself for it. Kate took as a sign that you want to kiss her, so she moved her face closer to you, waiting for the perfect moment, moving her hand to your jaw, tucking your strands of hair behind your ear. Her charming smile only grew bigger seeing your blush.

The archer knew you didn't glance at her mouth to see if there were any cuts, because it looked like you had been wrestling with yourself for quite some time not to look at it. You knew immediately what she meant when you could feel her breath on your lips. You wanted to kiss her, but you knew it wasn't end on just a kiss. You were confused as you stared blankly at her lips. Kate smiled to herself as she saw you no longer pull away. Fuck it, it's too late to change your mind.

Without thinking, you leaned in and kissed her lips, and the archer almost immediately returned the gently kiss. You placed your hands on her chest, pressing harder against her lips. She smiled to herself as she placed her hand on your thigh, squeezing your skin. She leaned in more and kissed you passionately, and now you know that she kisses well and is experienced at it. You moaned into the kiss, feeling the need between your legs grown, and you thought less and less about the fact that Kate was hurt.

Your kisses became more passionate, and due to the fact that the position was uncomfortable, you quickly swung your leg to the other side to straddle on Kate's lap and during this time, she watched you with lust in her eyes as you carefully sit on her lap, and she gasped at this gesture. Her hands on your hips pulled you closer, and her hands quickly slid under your shirt, stroking your smooth skin that she had longed to touch. You're not sure if it's really happening.

You quickly leaned in, already missing her amazing lips where you wish they were somewhere else. When you ran out of breath, you decided to slide down to her neck, leaving sloppy kisses there to give her some pleasure. The archer threw her head back this time in pleasure, biting her lower lip.

"Mmmm... that's it." She murmured, tightening her hands on your waist, showing you how much she enjoyed it. "Good girl, you know how to please me." She praised you, enjoying your every sweet kiss. After a moment you returned to her mouth, and a moment later her hand went to your shorts, slipping her hand into them, which knocked you out of your rhythm. She definitely knows what she's doing to you.

Kate felt the satisfaction of hearing your soft moans as she caressed your clit, feeling how wet the material was. Therefore, seeing that you were more busy with what she was doing down, she slid down to your neck, kissing your delicate skin. And you hope your parents don't hear you moan. You took a deep breath, wondering at the last moment if you really want to do this right now.

"Kate wait." You say quietly interrupted to grab her hand which had strayed into your shorts. She looked at you questioningly as she felt you pull her hand out of your panties. You want to continue, but you're afraid your parents will find themselves in your room hearing your groans.

"Yeah?" She spoke cautiously, waiting for an answer from you.

"We can't now. My parents are home." You gave her an apologetic smile. Kate raised her eyebrows in surprise at your answer, because you told your parents you were doing your homework and they shouldn't come in here.

"If you keep quiet, they won't catch us." She whispered wanting to go back to your mouth but your hands on her chest stopped her.

"No Kate. It's not just that, you're injured, you should rest." You explained more seriously this time. She frowned her eyebrows, wondering what might happen to her little wound if you allow yourself a little more. You must be really worried about her if you're concerned about such a small wound.

"Rest? It's just a little scratch." She tried to convince you by pulling herself up higher because during your kissing session she slipped a bit.

"A little scratch that still can make you get bad, If you're not careful." You said wisely, pressing your poiting finger to her chest. You watched her tongue run over her bottom teeth as she looked at you thoughtfully.

"Okay nanny, but you have to make it up to me." She warned joking, and you rolled your eyes sarcastically at her blackmail, which you knew didn't sound innocent. But you're sure the thought of Kate finally making you feel good will haunt you, till she came into your room when your parents are finally be absent one day.

"So be it." You agreed after staring at her in disbelief for a moment, then showering her cheeks with kisses.

~

After a few kisses and laughs, Kate decided to go home since it was already late, and she don’t want to worry you.

"Are you sure you don’t want to stay?" You asked quietly as you pulling down the sleeves of your sweatshirt because of the cold.

She snort quietly at your tired voice wishing she could stay here with you and watch you sleep in her arms.

"Nah, I have to go to Clint, and check myself to him." She says quietly smiling at you. You nod yawning, and she thinks that’s cute of you.

"But I’ll come to you tomorrow, okay princess?" She walks over to you, running her fingers through your hair admiring you.

"Okay Katie." You whisper smiling at her, and she smiles back at you kissing your forehead. You both feel love for each other. After a few moments of just staring at each other, you snuggled into her chest needing her warm. She immediately wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer. It’s so comforting you almost fell asleep in her arms.

You pulled back still smiling at her which makes her heart melt. You see her approach the window and before she goes out you stop her.

"Kate wait." You say approaching to her, and she immediately looks at you when you call her name. You rise on your tiptoes to catch her cheeks in both hands and kiss her for the last time today. Kate kiss you back smiling like a fool for a kiss.

"That was cute." She whispers softly after you pulled back. You giggled at her comment blushing like a teenage girl who fell in love. Kate finally comes out, and you say "Be careful" before closing window.

[tooti-fruiti]

THE GENTLE GIANT [CHAPTER THREE]

The Awake-a-thon

As you were sleeping, having a nice dream, you suddenly heard an air horn go off and you screamed.

"Fuck! What the hell?"

"Did Chris do that?" Katie asked.

"Probably." Sadie said.

All the girls got up and got dreams and walked outside with everyone else.

"Morning!" Chris said. "Hope you slept well."

"Hi Chris. You really buff in those shorts." Heather said.

"I know." He said as he winked at her.

"Now, I hope you're all ready. Because you're next challenge begins in one minute!"

"Oh excuse me! I don't think that's enough time for breakfast!"

"Oh, you'll get breakfast Owen." Chris said. "Right after you run 20 kilometers around the lake!"

"Oh so you're funny now?!" Eva yelled as she ran up to hit Chris, but then DJ held her back. "You know what I think would be funny?!"

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms as Courtney tried to calm her down.

"You're enjoying this aren't you?!"

"A little. You have thirty seconds!"

•

Video Diary-Number 3-(Y/n)

Okay, seriously. Eva is starting to annoy me.

There's no reason to be so angry all the time. And what was she thinking?

Did she really just try to punch Chris?

She would have probably been kicked off if DJ didn't hold her back.

•

You all got into a line to start running as Chris started to count down.

Once he said go. Most of you started running, while the others walked.

After you got to the lodge, you saw Duncan, DJ, Geoff, Eva, Justin, and Beth already there.

You sat down beside DJ and groaned.

"Tired?"

You nodded.

"Same." He yawned.

After he said that, a lot of other campers rushed in.

"Clear a table, stat!" Owen said as he carried in Noah.

Leshawna dropped to her knees exhausted. "We made it..."

Then the last person arrived, which was Harold.

"What took you so long?!" Courtney said. "We just lost the challenge!"

"I think I'm having heart palpations." He wheezed.

"Wait, if he lost. That means we won the challenge!" Gwen said.

The other team started cheering before Chris stopped them.

"Woah woah, that wasn't the challenge!" He said.

"What did he say?" Gwen asked.

"Who's hungry?" Chris asked as he pulled back a curtain to reveal a buffet of food.

•

Video Diary-Number 4-(Y/n)

The buffet looked absolutely amazing.

There was turkey, pie and cake. And pizza and soda.

It was much better than the grey slop we've been eating for the past few days.

•

After you all ate the food, you groaned and moaned from over eating.

"Okay Campers." Chris said into a megaphone as he stood on the table.

"Time for part two of your challenge!"

"I thought eating was the second part..." Owen said.

"What more do you want from us?" Gwen asked.

"Weird goth girl is right." Heather said as she rubbed her stomach. "Haven't we been through enough?"

"Um, let me think about that....no!"

"It's time for...the awake-a-thon!"

"The what-a-thon?" You asked.

"Don't worry! This is an easy one! The team with the last camper standing wins the challenge!"

"So, what you're saying is the 20k run and the turkey eating frenzy, were all part of your evil plan to make it harder for us to stay awake?"

"That's right Gwen!" Chris said.

"...man he's good."

"Move move move!" He said as you all walked out of the cabin.

•

About twelve hours later, all of you were still wide awake.

"Sun's setting." DJ said.

"Yeah.." You said as you took in a deep breath.

DJ turned to you and smiled. "So, if you win, what are you gonna do with the million?"

"Oh man." You laughed. "I have no idea. What will you do if you win?"

"I'll spend half of the money to help animals."

"You really do love animals, huh?"

DJ smiled and nodded.

"That's...really sweet." You smiled.

Suddenly, Tyler screamed and you jumped back to see what he was looking at.

He was staring at a sleeping Katie and Sadie.

"Dude what was that?" Duncan asked.

"I uh...saw a bee?" Tyler said as Chris came over.

"Congratulations campers, we're at 12 hours! And since the sun is starting to set...time to take things up a notch!"

Chef walked out in a lamb costume carrying a bunch of books.

Duncan, Geoff, Trent, and Bridgette all started to laugh.

"Fairytails!" Chris said once you all stopped laughing.

You looked over at the other team to see who was asleep and saw (Ex/n) wave at you.

You rolled your eyes and looked away.

Chris picked up a book and cleared his throat.

"Once...upon a time...there was...inside this...boring kingdom...a boring village...and inside this...boring, sleepy...village...filled with...very boring children...who did very...boring things..."

You threw your head back and groaned.

"How many more of these is he gonna read?"

You yawned and started to get drousy.

While Chris was in the middle of reading the second fairytail, you fell asleep.

•

"Aw gross it worked! Dude pissed himself!"

You woke up to Duncan saying that and you sat up and rubbed your head.

"Oh man..." DJ groaned.

"Hi DJ." You yawned as Chris walked out with a coffee.

"What is the matter with you people? Fall asleep already!"

Gwen crawled over to him and tugged at his shirt. "You gotta hook me up man, I'll even eat the grinds...anything!"

Chris chuckled. "Alright! Gwen, Trent, Heather, Duncan, and Eva. You five stay with me. The rest of you are free to leave. And go take showers, you stink!"

You walked away with Bridgette and DJ back to the cabins

"Do you know what time it is?"

"I think it's 12." DJ said.

"Thank you." You yawned before going to the bathroom.

•

After you freshened up, you went to grab some food and came back to the Bass Cabin to see stuff being thrown out the door.

"What's going on?" You asked.

Eva poked her head out the window. "NO ONE IS GOING ANYWHERE UNTIL I GET MY FUCKING MP3 PLAYER BACK, BECAUSE I KNOW ONE OF YOU STOLE IT! I NEED MY MUSIC!"

Then she threw a book out the window and went back inside.

"That's what's going on." Geoff said.

"Hey guys." Heather said as she walked up to the group.

"Wow, what a mess."

"Someone stole Eva's mp3 player and she's throwing a fit until she finds it."

"Oh, you don't mean this, do you? I was wondering who it belonged to." She asked as she took the mp3 player from her pocket.

"I found it by the campfire pit, you must've dropped it." She said as Eva stuck her head out the door then rushed over and grabbed it.

"Oh thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

"Sure thing." Heather said as she walked off.

Eva then turned around with an awkward smile.

"So, I guess no one took it after all."

You all glared at her.

"Okay...maybe I overreacted a little..." She said before laughing awkwardly.

•

Video Diary-Number 5-(Y/n)

...

Yeah I definitely know who I'm voting for tonight.

•

During the campfire ceremony, you sat around the fire as Chris walked out with a plate of marshmallows.

"You all cast your votes and made your decisions. There are only nine marshmallows on this plate."

"When I call your name. Come up and claim a marshmallow. The camper who does not receive a marshmallow must immediately grab their belongings, return to the dock of shame, catch the boat of losers, and leave the island. And you can never come back. Ever."

"The first marshmallow goes to Duncan."

"Bridgette, Courtney, Katie and Sadie, Tyler, DJ, (Y/n), Geoff."

"Campers, there is only one marshmallow left on this plate. And this marshmallow goes to..."

...

"Harold."

Eva gasped.

Harold sighed happily and took his marshmallow.

"Eva. The dock of shame awaits."

Eva growled and stood up. "Nice. Really nice. Who needs this stupid fucking TV show ANYWAY?!"

As she walked past Chris, she angrily kicked him in the leg.

"Ow! Fuck!"

He then clutched his leg and looked at the rest of you.

"You're all safe tonight."

You all put your marshmallows on sticks and held them over the fire.

"To the Killer Bass." You said.

"And to not ending up here again, the next time we have a challenge!" Courtney added.

[Hope you enjoyed. Stay tuned for more and have a good day]

<-Chapter Two

[cicinicole-14]

this is where i leave you

@only-freaking-sunflowers and i will not be discussing this thank you. yes we did write a shelbert fic in the year 2024. no we will not be discussing it...

Cancer. Cancer. Cancer. 

It’d been ringing in her ears for the better part of a week, debating on whether she should call him or not. 

Was it her place? Would he still care? 

She would only have answers if she made the call. 

She stares down at the phone in her hands, punching in a number she hadn’t dialed in years but still knew by heart, still knew like the back of her hand. 

Would he pick up? Would he recognize her number and ignore the call? She didn’t know, wouldn't know unless she tried. 

But Ashley was important to them, was important to him once, and maybe she still was, she hoped.

She presses the green button and raises the phone to her ear, sending up a prayer to God above.

xXx 

Unknown flashes across his phone screen and usually that means an immediate ignore, but there was a voice in the back of his head telling him to answer it, just this once. 

“Hello?” his gruff voice answers and waits. 

There’s silence on the other end of the line and he looks at his phone again. “Hello?” he says a little more desperately. 

“Blake?” he hears her voice and it throws him back to the past. “Don’t hang up.” she pleads and he swallows back the lump in his throat. “Just let me talk, real quick. It’s about Ashley…”

He wasn’t going to hang up on her. He was surprised, of course, to hear her voice after so many years– she still knew his number? Did he– yeah, he still knew hers. He’d taken it out of his phone because that’s what you do when you marry someone else, but of course he still knew her number. They used to have a landline, at the house in Oklahoma that was their marital home, and he still has that number too. That phone was long disconnected, that house was long sold off to other people, they were long since sold off to other people, but that number lived on a shelf in his mind that he didn’t, wouldn’t, dust off.

“Is she okay?!” he asks. Miranda sounded scared and that made him scared, too, because she was never scared. Miranda didn’t get scared. 

“Um,” she starts, and Blake’s heart jumps into his throat. “I mean, yes, yeah, she’s going to be okay–”

“She’s going to be, what does that–”

“She has cancer, Blake.” 

xXx

“What do you mean? Wha-What kind of cancer? Is she gonna die?” His voice sounded frantic. 

Miranda's heart melted a little, knowing he still cared. 

“I-I wasn’t sure you still cared…”

“Of course I still care--”

“I know, but I got her in the divorce, and I highly doubt she’s reached out much since…”

“Well no, but I-I still care. I'm glad you called.” he says softly. 

“Y-yeah me too.” she whispers softly, closing her eyes and rubbing at the spot between her eyebrows. “It's blood cancer, by the way. Something with a really long name we’d both mispronounce.” She laughs lightly to try and lighten the mood. 

“But she’s gonna be alright, right?” 

“That’s the plan. Her doctors have a plan. She’s doing all the right stuff…” 

“Good. Good, I’m glad to hear.” 

She goes silent for a beat, and she can hear his deep heavy breaths on the other end of the line. 

There’s muffling on the other end, and she can hear a woman’s voice on the other end, and then Blake’s voice, half muffled through the phone, a quiet Love you too, Baby.

Gwen. She deduces from the context. 

She wipes the stray tear off of her cheek and pulls the phone away from her ear as she sniffles, not needing Blake to hear her crying. 

“...anything else?”

“Huh?” she says as she puts the phone back to her ear. 

“I said was that all or did you need to tell me anything else?” he asks, and she sighs softly. 

“That’s– That’s all, I guess, I just thought you should know. You know she had a kid, too, right? She has a son, he’s four. He’s great, he’s really… They’re doing really well, you know, minus this.”

Why is she still talking, why is she rambling? It’s time to go. She called, she said what she needed to say, and now it’s time to hang up. 

But, she doesn’t want to hang up. Hearing his voice for the first time in years, minus on the radio and in press interviews that were always so impersonal… 

“I did know that, actually. One of the, uh, one of the magazines did a spread, you know.”

“Yeah, I think I remember that. They done a lot of spreads on you, too. You and–” Miranda can’t bring herself to say her name. She isn’t jealous of Blake’s new wife– really,  she wasn’t, that was his business and honestly, that was his present and his future and she was his past, and she was fine with that. He deserves someone who makes him happy and wants the same things as him, leads the same life. She thought that’d be her, but it wasn’t. So it was Gwen, whatever. 

It doesn’t mean it doesn’t bring up acid in her throat when she goes to say her name.

“Yeah,” Blake answers. “A lot of those darn magazines. Same about you, and Brendan. I suppose congratulations are in order.” 

“Thank you. And you too. You’re a… you’re a newlywed, again Your face is all over the checkout lines.”

“Your invite musta got lost in the mail.” She hates him, she hates his sense of humor. She can just imagine the grin on his face right now, rubbing the back of his neck, his fingers in his graying hair, while she’s here turning all shades of red and a little green, too. 

So just hang up, Miranda, she tells herself. End this. 

But she still can’t.

“So was that all?” he asks again and she swallows hard. 

Hang. Up. Miranda. She tells herself. 

It’s all she has to do. Say goodbye and hang up the phone. 

But she doesn’t. 

Her and her big mouth, as usual, getting her into trouble…

“Are you happy?” She asks quietly. 

“Hmm?” 

“Are you happy? Y’know, with Gwen?”

xXx

How the fuck was he supposed to answer that one?

“I…Uh–”

“Nevermind, forget I asked, this was about Ashley–”

“Miranda, wait.” he catches her rambling. 

“Yeah?”

“I–”

I what? What was he supposed to tell his ex-wife? I still love you? I don’t love you? I hate you? 

He wasn’t sure if he had an answer for her. 

“Blake?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s okay y’know, to be happy, if you are. And it’s okay to not be happy too.”

At this moment, he wasn’t sure what he was feeling. Sure, he loved Gwen and her boys, they loved him too. Kingston wanted to be just like him. 

But Miranda? God, she’d always have a piece of his heart whether she knew it or not. Whether she wanted to or not. A piece of him will always be hers, and Gwen knew that. Gwen was good like that, she understood that, she’d been married before, too. She got it. 

“Blake?”

“Yeah Ran?” he slips, throwing in her old nickname just like the old days. 

“It’s okay, because I think I’m happy too. A lot of emotions are swirling around right now with Ashley’s diagnosis, but otherwise, I’m happy.”

“Th–That’s good to hear. I think I’m happy too.” 

“It’s just�� it’s one of those check-in points in life, you know, one of our friends gets sick and it’s like, you start asking yourself these hard questions that it’s like, shit just got really real, life’s super serious and is this the life that I want, you know–”

“Is it?” he asks. “Is this the life you want?” 

He’s comfortable in her silence, even right now. He hears the exhale in her voice. “I think so. I think this is it for me, I think I got it right.”

xXx

And she isn’t lying. This life she has with Brendan; these past two years, even with a global catastrophe, have been some of the best years of her life. She never expected to hit her prime in her late 30s, but here she was. And it’s okay that it isn’t with Blake.

“Good,” Blake says simply. “Good for you. And you know, if it’s never not what you want anymore…”

“What, give you a call?” She almost chokes. 

“That is not what I meant. If it’s never not what you want anymore, you know that you can leave it to rest and find something that fits you better. You’ve done it once before, you could do it again. And hey, please– keep me updated, about Ashley. I don’t know how she’d feel about me reaching out, and I don’t wanna bother her, I just wanna know that she’s doing alright. If anything gets worse…”

“Of course, of course.”

“I think this is where I leave you, Ran.” 

She nods, even though he can’t see. It’s time to hang up. It’s time to go. 

“I think that’s it then…I’ll–uh–I’ll keep you updated. Um, bye Blake.”

xXx

He gets one single text, in February of 2022 from a number he didn’t save but knew like the back of his hand that said, She kicked cancer’s ass! 

[price45]

Miles morales x reader PT 2

The Next Day

* you were swinging to miles room , and you saw him sitting on his bed with the Gwen drawing he did *

Miles : hey Y/n. * He said with a sad tone *

You : hey miles

Miles : what are you doing here

You : I wanted to apologize to you and Gwen

Miles : well you can't she's gone

You : I'm really sorry for what I said

Miles: why did you say it anyway

You : well , here we go , I really like you miles , like more than friends

Miles : oh , well I'm sorry

You : why , you say that

Miles : I don't like you In that way

* You felt a pain in your heart , and you started to cry , but you turned away , not wanting miles to see you cry , so started to walk to the window*

Miles : Y/n I'm sorry , I hope we're still friends , and I forgive you

* you didn't say anything. *

Miles : See you at school tomorrow

You : yeah

* And with that you swinging all the way home crying , you made it to your room , took off your suit , and start to trash your room , and you layed on the floor , until you see a box , and you walk to it and it says *

You in

* You open it and it's a time machine to travel to other universe's , then you wrote a note for your parents, friends , and miles , then before you put it on , you looked out your window and then back to the watch *

* I think it's best if I leave , you thought , so you put on the watch and it opened up an portal so you went through the portal *

Miles Pov

* I was just getting ready for school , then my mom came into my room with a letter. *

Me : what's this

Mom : Just read it , okay , she really did like you alot miles

* I didn't know what she meant , so I decided to read the note *

They Miles I know your probably still mad at me but it's fine , I decided that I think it's best if I leave , um yeah so I hope you find Gwen and this is a goodbye Miles , I don't know if I can say my best friend anymore because it just hurts , to know that I was a friend to you , and I felt different, but everything is going to be different , in every other universe ( Y/n ) falls for spider Man , but she is always a friend to him , so I decided to just leave. I'm going to get in your way , see ya SPIDER Man

Me : what have I done

[masterofrecords]

Angstober day 9: The Catch

Aaand this concludes the stuff I was supposed to write yesterday. Oh well, at least I'm finally making progress...

The Summoning

“Um, sir?”

William looked up from the cumbersome arrangement of dictionaries and reference materials, taking a moment to stop thinking in two languages at once. One of the older students – Sam? Stan? – was peeking in through the crack in the door, clearly making effort to suppress a smile.

“Mrs. Young is here to see you.”

William blinked. There was absolutely no reason for his mother to be at the university. A family emergency?

But then a booming laughter sounded from the door, a sweet yet indelicate sound. “It’s Bloydd, lad. Now, off you go, I don’t think I need to be announced like a royal guest just to see my husband.”

...right, of course it was Gwen.

Back when he proposed, she, six years his senior, laughed in the same way. “Sweetheart, I don’t think even marrying you can make me young again. I’ll keep my name, thank you.”

(A little baffled, William then carefully asked if she wanted him to take her last name. She ruffled his hair, kissed his nose and asked how many books and articles had already been published under his name.)

Swan left, still looking confused, and William quickly jumped up to clear out a chair from a stack of ungraded papers.

“My dear,” they kissed and she gracefully sat on the squeaky chair. “I didn’t expect you, sorry it’s a mess here.”

“It’s always a mess with you,” she laughed, and the room suddenly felt bigger and lighter. “In fact, I came to see you because our home’s been terribly orderly lately. You’ve been spending way too much time working, don’t you think?”

William laughed, hoping it didn’t sound too awkward and wondered if the office was dark enough that she couldn’t see the bags under his eyes.

“It’s just that…” how did he explain it? Was there anything he could say about the book strategically buried on his desk under manuscripts and papers, anything that would let her know of its importance without worrying her too much?

“Is it urgent?” Gwen asked patiently, bless her soul.

“In a way?” William tried. He looked around the office, painfully aware of where the traces of chalk hadn’t fully worn off, where the edges of a circle were still visible on the floor.

“Okay,” Gwen continued, taking her hand into his. “Any chance you can ask… the dean, or whoever’s responsible? to extend the deadline?”

William blinked. There was no deadline, per se. There was a warning, there was a promise – and not of a good kind. But perhaps he didn’t need to make sure he’d read the entirety of the tome now, didn’t need to understand the details of each and every ritual described in it?

Perhaps what he needed to do, really, was to extend the deadline – find a way to keep the book safe for as long as he needed to study it.

In fact, wasn’t one of the first rituals in the book intended for protection of an object? A ward, to hide it and make sure only the person with a key could open it. With minimal tweaking, William probably could…

“And there you go, off thinking again.”

He laughed nervously, trying to conceal his excitement, “Sorry, you’re right, I should… I should do that.”

“I think you’ll find that I’m pretty much always right. Which is precisely why you should listen to me more often.”

He couldn’t help his smile, and leaned over to kiss her again. “I will. But right now I need to get that extension.”

“Right, right,” she got up, fixing her skirts. “I’ll leave you be so long as you promise to be home for dinner.”

“Promise.” Another kiss stolen. It was as if her mere presence gave him energy.

She left, satisfied, and William waited for her footsteps to die in the distance before hurriedly locking the door and getting the chalk out.

He knew the symbols and patterns by heart, having done the same many, many times. He pricked his finger with some difficulty, the skin, scarred over and over, growing thicker. The last symbol, to close the circle with the blood – a name uttered in a whisper, so as not to let any strangers overhear it – and the familiar black smoke swirled inside the circle, forming a vaguely humanoid shape.

“You again,” the devil rolled their eyes, the stinger at the end of their tail rocking back and forth in irritation.

“I just have a quick question,” William explained. These conversations had always been awkward – it was obvious the creatures didn’t want to be there, and he felt a little rude asking even if he always made a point to pay for their answers. “I… Right, so I got the book, and – if I put a ward on it, so it would be hidden from prying eyes and only I – as the rightful owner of the key – will be able to open it… would anyone still come for the book? As in, will it work on… otherworldly creatures, too?”

They usually go away for a while to search for the answer, but this time, the devil lingered. There was a smile on their face, and William felt like he’d missed something terribly important.

“Mhm, I can answer that,” the devil looked smug. “The book will be safe, be assured.”

“Ah,” William breathed out in relief. “Very well. Thank you.”

He handed over the payment – some gold, and a few trinkets he’d figured out this devil liked. The devil grinned again.

“Oh, no,” they intoned, and this time they looked quite genuine. “Thank you.”

As it disappeared into the smoke, their grin grew wider.

“Until we meet again,” echoed in the small room, as William was already grabbing his coat to finally go home, to hot dinner and his wife’s loving embrace.

The door closed behind him, the key’s jingle hurried and joyful.

The smoke dissipated, leaving little but a memory of a laughing voice. “May it be soon.”

[legends-of-time]

Amelia’s Story (BBC Merlin Story)

Chapter 41: Queen of Hearts

Masterlist

Amelia's POV

The doors to the Throne room open slowly to reveal a room full of people lined up on either side. There's choir music playing softly in the background. A female figure can be seen dressed in a rich, purple, and gold gown, walking down the aisle between the Knights and Courtiers of Camelot. She kneels on the dais before someone and it is revealed that the woman is Gwen and the man she is kneeling before is Arthur wearing the King's crown.

He sticks his arm out and a servant walks forward with a cushion that has an ornate crown sitting on top. Arthur takes the crown and begins speaking, "By the sacred laws vested in me, I pronounce you Guinevere, Queen of Camelot."

Arthur crowns her, takes her hand and they each sit on a throne, looking out at the people in the room. Gaius, Merlin, and Anne stand on one side of the aisle while the Knights, including Leon, Elyan and Gwaine, stand on the other side with a Knight she doesn't recognise standing amongst them. Everyone is beaming.

——

Amelia gasps awake, sits up and breathes rapidly and shakily. It wasn't the content of the dream that disturbed her, if anything she's thrilled and mildly confused. Amelia hasn't had a dream in so long and it was so clear that she feels shaken by it.

She looks down at her healing bracelet in confusion. Amelia had thought this was meant to stop her dreams. She gets up and stands at her window.

"Amelia? Is everything all right?" Amelia turns to see Anne standing there with a candle.

"Er, um... yes, yes of course." Amelia stumbles.

Anne isn't convinced. "Amelia..."

"It, i-its just... I had a dream."

Anne frowns. "But I thought they had stopped."

"Apparently not." Amelia replies looking down at her bracelet.

Amelia hears Anne walk over and looks up as Anne asks, "Was it a bad one?"

Amelia earnestly shakes her head. "No, no." She smiles to herself. "A good one actually."

"Oh?"

"I dreamed of Arthur being King and him crowning Gwen as his Queen." Amelia informs Anne.

Anne gasps in delight. "Really?! Tell me more! What was Gwen wearing? Was I there? What was I—"

Amelia quickly cuts off Anne, laughing. "Anne, Anne! I'll tell you all about it tomorrow but let me go back to bed!"

Anne pouts. "Okay, fine. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Amelia smiles at her.

As soon as Anne is gone, Amelia's smile drops. She can't help but worry about the contents of her dream now she has begun to digest it. Practically everyone was there, including faces she did not recognise, but where was she? Why wasn't Amelia or Morgana there? Morgana might have been caught out for being a spy and had fled Camelot but why wasn't Amelia there? She had been waiting for this day and what? She doesn't turn up?

There are so many questions Amelia can't answer right now. She shelves her worries as while it seems clear that Gwen will be crowned one day (cross your fingers) everything around it can easily change. Amelia clings to that hope.

——

Amelia told Anne almost everything about her dream the next day, which puts her mood back on track due to Anne's excitement about the day. However, this soon changes when Morgana later confides she had the same dream as well. Morgana had different worries to Amelia's as from her point of view this could mean that Morgana doesn't get 'her' crown.

Amelia tries to reassure her that the dream might not come to pass and all those usual lies Gaius had fed them about their dreams over the years. Yet, it no longer begins to work when both of them begin having the dream night after night.

It comes to a head when after almost a week of these dreams, Amelia and Morgana are walking through the Castle's corridors before breakfast one morning.

They are walking through the Balcony Corridor when Amelia begins hearing echoing whispers saying, "Sisters. Sisters."

Amelia stops and sees that Morgana has done the same. "You hear that right?"

"Yes." Morgana murmurs. Her eyes flicker around as if to try and find the source.

"Oh good, I thought I was hearing things," Amelia remarks.

"You're not." Her sister replies as she begins walking again. Amelia quickly follows.

"Or maybe we're going insane together..."

Morgana rolls her eyes. "Amelia..."

"Sisters..." The same voice echoes when they step into a new corridor. A door opens near Morgana and Amelia.

"Sisters, this way..." A torch lights up. "Sisters..."

Amelia cautiously takes the torch.

"Sisters... This way..."

They enter the door and follow the whispers until they enter a Chamber that is below the Castle. It's empty and the two sisters glance at each other in confusion before entering the room further.

"Hello, Sisters." Amelia hears. She and Morgana spin around to see a beaming Morgause behind them. Amelia drops her torch and rushes forward as Morgana does the same, to join in on the hug they all share. Amelia hears Morgana breathe a sigh of relief but Amelia is feeling anything but that. The sight of her sister does not bring relief but anxiousness and guilt.

"I can't tell you how good it is to see you." Amelia tells her eldest half sister as so to keep up the ruse of a loving sister.

"I received your message." Morgause says. She pulls back so she can look at them, placing each hand on one of their cheeks. The message had been Morgana's idea and Amelia couldn't think of a way to talk her out of it without raising her suspicions. "Tell me about these dreams that are so troubling to you."

Morgana takes her hand off her cheek, causing Morgause to drop both of them before speaking, "They show a ceremony in Camelot. It's my serving girl, Gwen, she sits beside Arthur on a throne. She's crowned Queen. We see the same thing night after night."

Morgause looks down at their bracelets. "There are some dreams that are so powerful your healing bracelets will not stop them." She looks back at them. "It is a prophecy."

That is what Amelia had hoped for in her shipper's heart but also dread as this will cause her sisters to react. Amelia doesn't voice these concerns and instead says, "How can that be? She's a servant. Uther would never allow Arthur to marry her."

"There are many futures, Sisters." Morgause explains as she walks around them. "Some are shrouded in mist, and others are clear as cut glass." She stops and turns to them. "But your gifts are powerful, and this vision cannot be ignored. You cannot allow this serving girl to take Morgana's rightful place upon the throne. Whatever relationship exists between Arthur and... Gwen, you must destroy it."

Morgana smirks and nods and Amelia does the same. Oh, God. Hopefully, Amelia can stop it before it gets really bad.

——

Gwen and Merlin serve Uther, Arthur, Amelia, and Morgana breakfast in the Council Chambers.

"What news from the northern borders?" Uther is asking his son.

"There've been a number of minor skirmishes," Arthur replies as Gwen pours the contents of her jug into Uther's cup then Arthur's. Amelia watches as Arthur accidentally touches Gwen's hand when she reaches to pour his drink and both pull back awkwardly. Usually, this would make Amelia smile fondly but she sees that Morgana has also noticed the interaction based on her sister's glare.

"You think Odin is testing our defences?" Uther asks but receives no reply as Arthur stares admiringly at Gwen. "Arthur, are you listening?"

"What's that?" Arthur reaches forward and accidentally knocks over his cup. Gwen jumps forward to clean the mess.

"What on earth is wrong with you?!" Uther exclaims.

Amelia sees Merlin smile and Morgana grimace. This isn't good.

"Nothing. Sorry." Arthur apologises.

——

Morgana tells Amelia of her plan to get Arthur and Gwen caught by Uther, but first, they need to encourage Arthur. Amelia reassures herself that helping Morgana getting Uther to know will help Arwen in the long run as Morgana will no longer see Gwen as a threat and Gwen will be fine.

Amelia is telling herself this as she and Morgana go to visit Arthur's Chambers after breakfast. They open the door to peek in to find Arthur looking up from a blank piece of parchment as he sits at the table.

"Morgana. Amelia." He greets.

"Arthur, are we disturbing you?" Morgana asks.

"No. Come in." The two sisters step inside, closing the door and turning to Arthur as he asks, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Amelia swallows thickly before speaking, "Well, we were worried about you. You weren't yourself earlier."

"Just a bit tired." Arthur dismisses, looking down.

"Really?" Morgana questions with a wide smirk before walking over to pour two cups for her and Amelia while Amelia sits on Arthur's right, one seat down. "We thought the reason you were so distracted had something to do with the fact that Gwen was in the room."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Arthur says unconvincingly.

Amelia shares a look with Morgana, who nods in encouragement. Amelia really doesn't like this but powers through and fakes a chuckle. "Come on, Arthur. Why can't you admit you have feelings for her? A blind man could see it." Morgana takes a seat between Amelia and Arthur.

For a moment Arthur doesn't respond but it seems curiosity gets the better of him and he turns to the two women and asks, "Is it really that obvious?"

"It's only so obvious to us because... we know Gwen also has feelings for you." Morgana remarks. Amelia takes a big gulp of her drink so to have some liquid courage.

"Has she said something?" Arthur eagerly asks, leaning forward.

Amelia shrugs with a teasing smirk though unknown to the two people in the room, it's false. "She speaks of you all the time." She wishes she could enjoy this teasing.

"What did she say?"

"You're already arrogant enough. I will flatter you no further." Morgana argues, taking a sip of her drink. Amelia knows she's about to go in for the attack. "Poor girl, I fear she doesn't know what to do with herself when she's around you."

"She's not alone. I have such feelings for her, and yet I know nothing can ever come of them." Arthur admits. Amelia smiles softly at his vulnerability though the smile goes when she recalls what she's doing.

"If it's Gwen who you desire, why do you deny yourself?" Amelia questions.

Arthur snaps out of it and reclines in his chair. "Because she's a servant. My father would have me marry for the good of the Kingdom."

"Uther knows nothing of love." Morgana scoffs. Amelia agrees with her there. "You are the future King; you must set your own rules. Besides, he doesn't have to find out."

Amelia and Morgana get up to leave but not before Morgana nudges Amelia to deliver the final blow.

"You should spend some time with Gwen. I know she'd like that." Amelia tells him softly, stroking his arm.

——

Amelia is told by Anne that Arthur has invited Gwen out for a picnic and Amelia pretends to smile and nod as they discuss how this will bring Arthur and Gwen closer to what Amelia had seen in her vision. Amelia really hopes so. Hopefully, Arthur, after they are caught, either backs off from Gwen or gets banished. Both are better than the other alternative.

That night, Morgana gleefully reports that Gwen has asked to be relieved of her duties tomorrow by faking a fever.

The next day, Amelia and Morgana get on their horses and follow Anne, Merlin, and Gwen as they head to the picnic area. Amelia anxiously watches as Merlin, Anne and Gwen approach a distracted Arthur from behind while giggling.

Amelia chews her lip anxiously as Merlin dishes the two women before cupping his hands around his mouth. "Caw! Caw!"

Arthur drops the silver platter he was holding with a crash as he turns around. Gwen and Merlin walk to the stream that separates them from Arthur.

Amelia can't hear what they are saying from a distance but can see how Arthur stares at Gwen, speechless and how Anne leans toward Gwen, making a remark that causes Gwen to chuckle. Amelia feels saddened that she can't join in on the fun.

"Have fun." Merlin is then calling as he leaves. Gwen crosses the stream on stepping stones. Arthur takes her hand as she nears and helps her over.

Amelia feels Morgana glancing at her and turns with a smirk placed on her face and receives one from her sister. They turn and ride off.

——

Morgana and Amelia dine with Uther to fulfil the next part of their plan. Uther pours Morgana's drink at the dining table in the Council Chambers as she sits on his left. Amelia munches on her meal as she sits on his right.

"It's such a beautiful day, I was wondering if you might join us for a ride." Amelia suggests after sharing a knowing look with Morgana.

"I have Council matters to attend to." Uther fondly reminds her as he takes a sip of his drink. Amelia's insides twist in disgust at his tone.

"It's just, we get to spend so little time with you these days." Morgana pushes. "Time together is... so precious to us."

Amelia can see Uther relenting. "You're right. We don't spend enough time together. The Council can wait."

Amelia and Morgana beam at him before they all share a toast. Amelia feels her stomach continue to twist.

——

Amelia's stomach twisting worsens as she, Morgana and Uther leave the Castle walls on their horses.

"I'm glad you persuaded me to come. We must do this again." Uther tells them as they trot along.

"We'd like that very much." Amelia says with a false smile and through clenched teeth.

"Come on, I'll race you the two of you." Just after she says this, Morgana bolts off. Amelia frowns after her sister pettily. She forgets momentarily about why they are doing this and focuses on her sibling competitiveness and charges after with Uther joining in with the race, chuckling.

Amelia falters slightly when she realises they are getting closer. Morgana intentionally falls back to let Uther race ahead, flashing a smile over to Amelia, who quickly beams back though she doesn't feel it.

The three of them burst into the clearing with Uther taking the lead to see Arthur and Gwen breaking their kiss and sitting up startled from where they had been lounging on the blanket and cushions. Gwen gasps in shock.

"Arthur!" Uther exclaims.

Arthur gapes at his father while Gwen looks away in shame. Amelia winces in pity.

——

Arthur fights his father and declares he refuses to comply with his father's demand that he doesn't continue his relationship with Gwen so Uther promptly banishes Gwen. Amelia gets that not only has this happened, but she also helped cause it. Now she hopes that Morgana will leave it alone now.

Amelia stands with Merlin and Anne in Gwen's house as they watch said woman pack for the move.

"There is so much to do." Gwen says casually as she goes back and forth between her bag and the table and the cabinets. Amelia knows she's trying to hold her emotions in and they'll soon break. "I'll have to sell everything I can't take with me. And of course, I need to find a new maid for Morgana."

"Gwen." Merlin tries to interrupt but Gwen continues.

"Do you know anyone suitable?"

"Gwen, stop it." Anne impedes and this time Gwen stops. "Where will you go?"

Gwen slumps onto her bed and shakes her head, holding back tears. "I don't know. I've spent my whole life in Camelot, it's all I know. Everything I care about is here. I have nothing else."

Amelia feels destroyed by her words and sits by her on the bed, stroking her back. "We'll think of something." Gwen nods tearfully.

"We promise." Merlin adds.

Amelia notices Anne giving her a suspicious looking. Amelia internally winces, knowing she'll get a verbal lashing.

——

Amelia steps into Gaius' Chambers along with Merlin and Anne. Gaius isn't in.

"Did you have a hand in this?" Anne demands to know once they are inside. She had been quiet the entire journey between Gwen's house and here. Merlin's eyes flicker between Anne's suspicious look and Amelia's anxious one, probably confused.

"I, um, maybe... I—" Amelia stumbles. She knows she was and why but is struggling to articulate it under pressure.

Realisation dawns on Merlin's face and turns accusingly onto Amelia. "How could you?! Gwen has lost her home and her job because of you!" He exclaims.

Amelia winces and looks at him tearfully. "Because the alternative is much worse!" She retorts.

Merlin goes to reply but as soon as he opens his mouth, Anne stops him. "What do you mean?" She asks calmly.

"You know that dream I had of Gwen being crowned Queen?" Amelia asks. Anne nods. "Well, Morgana had been having it too and we kept on having it to the point that Morgana contacted Morgause, who told us to destroy the relationship between Arthur and Gwen."

"I still don't understand why you helped." Merlin harshly retorts.

"I helped because I knew that not only will my sisters be suspicious of me but if Morgana didn't get Gwen banished, removed from Camelot, she'd get her killed." Amelia argues. "I thought at least with banishment she's still alive, her and Arthur will still be together as Morgana will no longer see her as a threat to her throne. I'm sorry..."

Anne sighs and walks over to rub Amelia's arm. "No, it's alright. We understand. Don't we, Merlin?" She pointedly nudges him.

Merlin is startled from where he had seemed to be lost in thought. "What? Uh, yes, yes, of course." He apologises. He rubs his forehead tiredly. "Sorry, I get why you didn't stop this. You can't stop Morgana when she has her mind on it."

"I hope she won't do anything else." Amelia says.

"She won't. She's got what she wanted." Merlin reassures.

"If you're sure..."

——

Morgana pulls Amelia into the Council Chambers that night. Amelia is immediately concerned to see Uther already there, pacing. Before Amelia can ask what is going on, Gaius walks in.

Amelia's panic grows when Gaius gets handed a poultice that has markings of the Old Religion covering it. She looks at Morgana with a questioning look on her face. Morgana simply smirks and shrugs.

"Is it magical?" Uther asks Gaius.

"I believe so." Gaius replies. "These are the symbols of the Old Religion."

"Could it be used to cast an enchantment?" Uther's line of questioning makes Amelia suspicious as if she wasn't already.

"That would be one use of such a poultice."

"This enchantment, could it cause someone to fall in love?" Amelia's eyes widen as it clicks in for her why Morgana had pulled her here. Morgana is settling it up to look like Gwen has enchanted Arthur to fall in love with her.

"It is entirely possible."

"Where was this found, Sire?" Amelia can't help but ask.

Uther takes the poultice from Gaius. "It was discovered in Arthur's Chambers." He turns to the Guard in the room. "Find Morgana's maid and bring her to me immediately."

Amelia glances at Gaius in alarm. She sees him look suspiciously at Morgana. Uther walks away and Amelia immediately turns on her sister.

"What's this?!" Amelia hisses. "Why didn't you tell me?! And I thought we'd solved the problem."

"I know, I'm sorry, sister. I panicked." Morgana replies quietly. "Arthur had told me how he was going to leave with her then return as King with Gwen as Queen! I couldn't risk it!"

Amelia knows that now Morgana has planted this idea of sorcery into Uther's head, there's nothing she can do. She only hopes that once Gwen is inevitably thrown into the Cells, they'll be able to prove her innocence or help her escape. Amelia wonders if maybe she should have done more to stop this whole thing.

——

The Guards drop Gwen to her knees in front of Uther as he sits in his chair. Uther holds the poultice out in front of her.

"You recognise it?" He questions her.

Gwen looks at the poultice confused before replying, "I've never seen it before in my life."

"Really?" Uther questions disbelievingly. "I believe you planted it in Arthur's Chambers to enchant him." Uther hands the poultice back to a Guard.

"That's not true."

"Why else would Arthur fall in love with someone like you?" Uther harshly retorts as he leans forward, closer to Gwen.

"I don't expect someone like you to understand that." Gwen counters. Uther slaps Gwen across the face with the back of his hand. Amelia and Morgana gasp in shock though Amelia's is more genuine.

"My Lord!" Morgana exclaims, stepping forward and playing the part of a concerned friend. "Gwen has always been a loyal and trusted servant!"

"I have no doubt she's feigned loyalty while using her position to get close to my son." Uther replies, standing and turning to his wards.

The doors open and Arthur storms in with Merlin and Anne following. "What is the meaning of this?!"

Uther takes the poultice again and meets his son in the middle. "This poultice was found under your pillow. Some kind of love charm. You are under its spell."

"Did know about this?!" Amelia hears Merlin ask. She sees him looking at her suspiciously.

Amelia shakes her head as much as she dares with Morgana by her side. "Trust me Merlin. I had no idea."

"That's ridiculous." Arthur retorts to the accusation.

"What would you know?" Uther demands doubtfully.

"Because I know how I feel. I'm not enchanted."

"So can you tell me how it came to be in your room?" Uther questions.

"I don't know, but I don't believe Guinevere put it there."

Uther looks at his son as if he doesn't know who his. "Until its spell is broken, I can't take anything you say as the truth." He says before turning and walking back over to where Gwen sits. "Her father consorted with Sorcerers."

"My father was a good and innocent man and you executed him!" Gwen argues tearfully. Amelia winces when she thinks of that dark day.

"So, you would seek your revenge by enchanting my son?!" Uther yells as he bends down toward her with a finger pointing to Arthur.

"No!"

"My Lord, whatever this poultice is, I don't believe that Gwen is responsible for magic." Gaius intercedes.

"I don't care what you believe, Gaius." Uther persists, now standing straight. "Arthur is under her spell. It's the only rational explanation for his behaviour!" Amelia wants to slap him. Why can't Arthur like a serving girl? Why does Uther, just because he doesn't like the match, comes so easily to the conclusion it's magic?

"Father, you have to see reason. Guinevere has done nothing wrong." Arthur begs.

"She has been found guilty of using magic and enchantments. She will be burnt at the stake." Uther declares and begins walking away by going behind his chair. Amelia gapes in shock.

"No." Arthur moves toward Uther.

"Restrain him!" Uther orders.

Guards grab Arthur as he bolts forward. "You can't do this!"

"My Lord! At least give Gwen a fair trial!" Gaius cries.

"I have all the evidence I need." Uther retorts.

"I'm begging you! W-we will leave Camelot and never return! Just-just let us go!" Arthur begs as he struggles in the Guards' hold. "I relinquish my entitlement to the throne!" Amelia sees Gwen gasp in surprise.

Uther looks at his son in disbelief and slowly walks back over to him. "My son would never do that. It is proof beyond doubt that you are enchanted." He places a hand on Arthur's shoulder. The caring gesture not matching the environment.

"I will never forgive you for this." Arthur declares.

"She will die. The enchantment will be broken. You'll see I was right." As he speaks, Uther's hand gravitates to Arthur's cheek and he nods as if agreeing with himself. "Take her away." Uther withdraws his hand from Arthur and leaves.

Arthur begins struggling again. "No! Guinevere!"

Gwen begins to panic as Guards pick her up off the floor. "Arthur! No! Arthur, please...!" The Guards drag Gwen backwards toward the door. Amelia watches with wide tearful eyes.

"No!" Arthur breaks away from the Guards. He runs to Gwen and grabs her from the Guards. Arthur kisses her until the other Guards pull him away.

"I will always love you!" Arthur declares.

The Guards continue to drag Gwen out backwards. Arthur struggles against the Guards in vain. Morgana pulls Amelia out of her despair and pulls her out of the room, smirking.

——

The next day, they are already building the pyre. Amelia gets rid of her Morgana shaped shadow and goes to visit Gwen. She brings a platter to Gwen's Cell. Gwen stands as Amelia enters.

"I thought you might be hungry." She says as she puts it down.

"I can't even think of eating." Gwen dismisses. Amelia doesn't blame her. "How is Arthur?"

Amelia swallows, thinking of the despondent Prince she had seen just before coming here. "He wants me to let you know that he will do everything he can to convince Uther that you're innocent." Gwen nods at her words and turns away tearfully. "He won't stop until you're released."

"You and I both know that Uther will not change his mind. When I am gone, will you take care of him for me, Amelia?"

"No," Amelia argues, "you can't give up hope. There is still time." Time for her to fix this mess she's helped create.

Gwen turns to look at her doubtfully. "To do what?"

"I don't know yet, but—" Gwen sighs and walks away but Amelia steps after her. "No, believe me, Gwen."

It is then that Gwen turns around and a dark look crosses her face.

"What is it?" Amelia asks.

"I know who planted that poultice." Gwen confesses.

Amelia's eyes widen. Does this mean Gwen knows? "Who is it?" What does Gwen know?

Gwen steps around Amelia to check to see if Guards are near and then faces Amelia. "After I was sentenced to death, I was being led out. I looked back. I swear, Morgana was smiling. You must believe me, don't you? Gaius told me about you spying on Morgana when I saw her do magic."

Amelia panics at her words before realising that Gwen doesn't know about Amelia's own magic so she's safe for now.

"No, I..." Amelia begins to say but hears footsteps approaching. "...do believe sh..." A Guard opens the Cell door.

"I can no longer trust her." Gwen whispers urgently. "I've started to wonder if it wasn't a coincidence that you, Uther and Morgana found us in the woods."

Amelia leaves and the Guard locks the Cell.

——

"Morgana was the one that planted the poultice." Amelia informs Gaius, Merlin, and Anne in the Physician's Chambers. "Morgana told me herself and Gwen suspects as well." She looks accusingly at Merlin. "I told you Morgana was up to something!"

Merlin looks down shamefully. "I know..." He mumbles.

"Morgana? Uther'll never believe that Morgana's responsible." Gaius points out.

"Perhaps Arthur will talk him 'round." Anne argues unsurely though Amelia can see she doesn't even believe herself.

"Uther thinks Arthur's enchanted." Amelia argues. "He will only believe that anything that Arthur says or does is part of that. We need to think of something else to save Gwen."

"If we can't expose the true Sorcerer," Merlin thinks aloud, "then we must invent one." His tone and the gleam in his eye makes Amelia nervous. What's his plan this time?

"What do you mean?" She asks.

A smile spreads across his face. "What if a Sorcerer was caught planting an identical poultice in Arthur's Chambers? Uther would've no choice but to release Gwen." He runs up the steps to his room.

"And do you know of a Sorcerer who's stupid enough to get caught doing such a thing?" Gaius demands to know.

Merlin spins around. "Me." Merlin pulls the magic book out from the floorboards under his bed and sits on it, flicking through the pages while the others watch him. "So, if I disguise myself, it won't matter if I'm caught. I can use magic to escape, and then just change back into myself. They'll think that the Sorcerer has just vanished into thin air."

"But won't at least Arthur recognise you, no matter how you disguise yourself." Amelia questions.

"Not if I'm eighty years old." Merlin mimics an old croaky voice.

Anne looks at him in alarm. "An ageing spell?!"

"Merlin, ageing spells are notoriously difficult and unpredictable." Gaius warns him worriedly. "If the spell doesn't hold, you'll be exposed."

"If I don't do something, Gwen's going to die, and I'm not going to let that happen." Merlin persists. Amelia's shoulders slump when she realises this is their only option.

"What can we do?" Anne asks him.

"Can you make a poultice identical to the one found in Arthur's Chambers?"

"Well, I believe so." Gaius replies. "With Anne and Amelia's help."

"Okay."

——

They are finishing tying a poultice. Amelia hears footsteps coming down the steps from Merlin's room. Her jaw drops at the sight of Old Merlin exiting his Chamber. Old Merlin makes grunting noises.

"You three know me better than anyone. Do you recognise me?" Merlin asks.

Gaius stands and looks at him closely. "There's something of you in the eyes. But perhaps that's just because I know it's you."

Merlin turns to look at himself in a mirror. "I can't believe that one day I will actually look like this." He then looks at Anne. "Will you still love me like this?"

Anne smiles softly and kisses him on the cheek. "Of course."

Merlin then begins groaning and stretching. "Ah! I ache, all over."

"Ah. Well, now you know how I feel." Gaius remarks.

Amelia huffs in amusement before handing Merlin the poultice. "You'll be needing this."

——

Amelia, Gaius, and Anne had left Merlin to enact the plan and instead joins a Council meeting in the Council Chambers along with Uther, Morgana, and other Council members.

Uther is going over documents with Council members when Arthur walks in. Amelia's eyes widen in alarm when she sees Old Merlin being dragged in by Guards behind Arthur.

"Father." Arthur greets.

"Arthur." Uther takes in the old man behind his son. "Who is this?"

"He is the Sorcerer." Arthur hands Uther the poultice Gaius, Anne and Amelia made. "I found him placing this under my pillow."

"Is this true?" Uther asks doubtfully.

"Yes." Merlin replies.

Amelia can see Morgana is confused and Amelia places a similar expression on her own face as she shares a look with her sister.

"What did you hope to achieve with this enchantment?"

"If Arthur were to fall in love with a lowly serving girl, it would bring shame on Camelot." Merlin 'explains'.

"Have I wronged you in some way, old man?" Uther asks. Amelia tries not to glare at the man. How delusional is this man that he doesn't understand why Sorcerers, people he has hunted and persecuted, are rising against him?

This is Merlin's chance to really say what's on his mind. Amelia braces herself. "You have wronged so many people in so many ways. You're blinded by your hatred of magic. You have tortured and executed innocent people." His voice raises. "You, Uther Pendragon, are a stupid, arrogant old tyrant!"

The Knights step forward in defence of their King and Arthur is the one that speaks. "You will hold your tongue!"

Merlin turns his anger and frustration into Arthur. "And you. Oh, I have heard how you... mistreat your servants! They do everything for you, but do they ever get any thanks? No! You're a spoiled arrogant brat with the brains of a donkey and the face," he hiccups and coughs, spitting in Arthur's face, "of a toad." Guards pull Merlin away from Arthur. Amelia tries not to laugh at his rant but in the process chokes on her own spit causing Morgana to turn to her in concern but Amelia quickly waves her off.

Uther closes his eyes in disbelief. "This serving girl. She is your accomplice?" He really is trying to get Gwen executed. Clinging to the hope he is right.

Merlin shakes his head. "I enchanted her too. The girl is entirely innocent."

"My Lord, he has confessed." Arthur declares eagerly. Amelia rolls her eyes. How is he saying anything helpful?

Uther sulks and picks up the poultice. "Release the girl. Tomorrow at dawn you will take your place on the pyre. Take him away."

Arthur and the Guards escort Merlin to the Dungeons. Amelia, Anne, Morgana, and Gaius follow to watch them in the Phoenix Corridor.

"Do you know that man, Gaius?" Morgana questions.

"I've never seen him before." Gaius says innocently. "Is there something troubling you, Morgana? I would've thought you'd be relieved that the true culprit's been found."

Morgana snaps out of her confused state. "Of course I am." She hurriedly walks away, dragging Amelia with her.

Amelia glances over her shoulder at Anne and Gaius, sharing a worried look. It's great they've been able to free Gwen, but how are they going to help Merlin?

——

Morgana had been anxious and frantic about how 'their' plans are seemingly falling apart, but Amelia had been able to calm her by arguing that they can't risk acting now as it may blow their cover. It seems Morgana actually listens to her.

Merlin had been caught because he was unable to break the spell and so is stuck in his old man form. However, Gaius has a plan. There's a book of Gala where there is an antidote to undo it.

Amelia joins Anne and Gaius to brew the potion. The three of them stay up all night, trying to get it to the right colour. Eventually, with some unintentional naps, they finish the anti-ageing potion. They are heading towards the Dungeons when they see Old Merlin already being escorted to his execution by Arthur and some Guards.

"Oh no, what do we do?" Anne frantically asks.

"We'll get it to him." Gaius reassures. "We just need to be in the Main Square."

"You do that," Amelia says, already walking away from them. "I need to get to the Balcony or I'll be missed."

——

Amelia quickly brushes her hair and slips on a different dress and rushes to join Uther and Morgana on the Balcony.

"Where have you been?!" Morgana harshly hisses. Amelia can see she’s still a bit distressed over what is happening though if she knew that Merlin is the one about to be burnt, she’d probably be jumping for joy.

"Do not worry." Amelia reassures. "I'm here now." Just as she finishes, the drum roll begins. Amelia tenses and looks over the Balcony to see the crowd gathered around the pyre. Merlin emerges from the Castle, flanked by Guards, and is escorted towards the pyre with Arthur leading.

They stop just before it and Uther begins speaking, "You have been found guilty of using magic and enchantments. In accordance with our law, you will be burned at the stake. Let this serve as a lesson to all those who seek to destroy Camelot."

Amelia sees Gaius and Anne weave through the crowd and Merlin glance towards them.

Suddenly, Merlin turns at lunges at Gaius and, hopefully, grabs the potion in the process. "A curse upon you all!" Merlin yells at Gaius. The Guards quickly pull him away. Merlin looks up to the Balcony and continues yelling, "I will have my revenge!"

The Guards shove Merlin towards the pyre while Arthur checks on Gaius and Anne. Then, without warning, though depending on who you ask, the pyre bursts into huge flames. Everyone pulls back and Merlin, now free, pushes through the crowd.

"After him!" Arthur yells.

Amelia goes back inside with Morgana and Uther, but in the commotion, slips away to try and find Merlin.

She follows Arthur and the Guards into the Phoenix Corridor. Amelia sees Arthur turn the corner. She's about to lunge forward in panic but then hears Arthur speak.

"Merlin, where's the Sorcerer?"

Amelia walks up to stand beside Arthur and finds young Merlin in an enclave with the red robe he had been wearing as an old man tucked behind his back. She sighs internally with relief.

"He w..." Merlin begins speaking with a gravelly voice then coughs and clears his throat. "Erm... he went that way." Merlin points to the wall behind him.

"Merlin, that's a wall..." Amelia murmurs amusedly.

"Oh..."

Arthur looks at his servant in disbelief and turns to the Guards. "Sound the warning bell. Search the entire palace. I want him found." The Guards leave to do just that and Arthur turns on his servant. "Are you telling me you let him run straight past you?"

"He was- he was- he was too fast for me." Merlin mumbles. He seems to be pulling and testing out his skin.

"He's a doddery old man." Arthur points out. "This is what happens when you spend all day in the Tavern."

What?

"What?" Merlin voices in confusion.

"Perhaps mucking out my horses will help sober you up," Arthur says condescendingly accompanied by a matching pat on the cheek for Merlin.

Merlin looks at Amelia while he still twists his face, getting used to the new skin.

She shrugs. "I have no idea."

——

Amelia and Morgana enter the latter's Chambers to find Gwen gathering the dirty laundry.

Amelia slumps in relief at the sight of the maidservant, who turns around with a small smile.

"Gwen!" She runs over and gathers Gwen into a hug. Gwen chuckles and hugs her back.

"Amelia..." Amelia turns to see Morgana wearing a fake cheery smile.

"Oh, sorry." She steps aside and watches Morgana give Gwen a fake hug.

"I can't tell you how relieved I am that you've been pardoned." Morgana tells her former friend. Amelia can tell by Gwen's face that she knows it's insincere. They share a suspicious look.

Morgana pulls back. "I, we, begged Uther to release you, but he wouldn't listen to reason." Amelia purses her lips behind Morgana's back. Amelia had actually helped to free Gwen while Morgana did nothing. It hurts Amelia that this is the state that their former best friends' friendship has turned into.

"I'm sure you did all you could." Gwen says, going along with it for now. "I..." Gwen indicates the laundry basket. Morgana nods and lets her go. Gwen shares a genuine smile with Amelia as she exits.

Still confused, Morgana closes the dividing door and turns.

"What do we do now?" Morgana questions. "Our plans..."

"It's okay, sister." Amelia says reassuringly. "We've put a halt to their relationship for now. They won't dare do anything now Uther is watching."

"I hope you're right." Morgana says then smirks. "Besides all we have to do is get rid of Arthur then our worries are for naught."

Amelia shares false dark smirks with her sister. There's no way Amelia will ever let her sister succeed.

——

A/N: Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

[privateanxieties]

masterlist

I write for The Amazing Spider-Man, but I guess these could, in theory, be read if you prefer other iterations. However, the characterization is written with tasm!Peter in mind. All my Peter fics are written for an adult version of him., most 20+ yrs.

Single-Chapter Fics / Oneshots

the golden age of New York City 18+ mature

“I lost Gwen. I couldn’t save her. I’m never going to be able to forgive myself for that. But I carried on, tried to um, tried to keep going. Tried to keep being the - that friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, ‘cause I know that’s what she would’ve wanted but... at some point, I just... I stopped pulling my punches. I got rageful. I got bitter.”

The story of a rageful Spider-Man, and the one who brings him back from the ledge.

you fascinate me so (my sweet refuge)    18+ mature, smut

Peter is the physical therapist she sees three times a week following New York's latest scheduled disaster. Unbeknownst to her, he is also the one who pulled her from the rubble of her office building.

As above, so below  [new - Nov/Dec 2022] 18+ mature, smut | Peter x demon!reader

Peter Parker gets his head messed with by someone several orders of magnitude out of his league. A dream is a wish his heart makes. Will it come true?     

As within, So without [sequel to As Above, So Below] 18+ mature, smut

When a night out on the town goes south, Peter learns that catching feelings for a mythical creature comes with its own unique challenges. He just wishes that for once, they would be less life-threatening.

Would you, maybe? [new - December 2022] 18+ mature, smut

Peter really, really wants his vampire girlfriend to bite him. He finds out it’s more than just a sex thing.

make it better (please, I promise) [Peter x vampire!Reader]

Peter and his vampire girlfriend deal with the aftermath of making their soulmate bond permanent. (follows immediately after Would you, maybe?)

it never entered my mind (at last) [Peter x vampire!Reader]

It’s movie night and Peter’s turn to choose. Still so early in their relationship, he wants to be the perfectly caring and sensitive boyfriend, so he picks a romance movie. It does not go quite as expected.

these little cracks (that make us)   [new - December 2022]

You come home after successfully getting through your first mugging - the mark of a real New Yorker. Peter isn’t as nonchalant as you.

this dance we always do 

It’s Peter’s birthday, and she’s still holding out hope that this time, they’ll finally cross that line they’ve been dancing around forever. Their friends are in agreement, scheming and plotting. Peter doesn’t react well, so she takes matters into her own hands.

stability, reciprocity and a romance for the ages

Peter Parker seems to be made of sunlight and comfort, and she seems to know just how to love him. Both sides of him.

the things we never talk about

A health scare reveals to Peter the things she never talks about, and worse, the things she keeps hidden for fear of speaking them into being.

of lasagna and indestructible girlfriends

It turns out the solution to being afraid of losing your girlfriend because of your enemies is… getting yourself an indestructible girlfriend. It’s just that Peter doesn’t know it yet.

of enemies and indestructible girlfriends 

Peter's indestructible girlfriend finds out what it means to also be Spider-Man's girlfriend when his enemies find her - and they both have a lot of work to do to heal from past wounds.  A companion piece to “Of lasagna and indestructible girlfriends”, but it can be read on its own.

not quite what I imagined  [ indestructible gf series ]

Peter’s indestructible girlfriend discovers there’s more to using his web shooters than she initially thought.

Peter Parker goes to the dentist 

Going to the dentist when he has superpowers is enough of a hassle, but when he can’t explain the origin of his injuries it becomes an entire situation. Luckily, the doctor he picked is trustworthy. And competent. And pretty.

Cardigans and bubblegum

Interference with the multiverse invokes consequences in other dimensions. Not long after returning to his own universe, Peter meets someone very much like himself, only he's used to the whole superpowers thing and she's… well, incredibly fresh.

a wound like no other

In her defense, it’s not her fault his timing is awful. In his defense, it’s not his fault she looked suicidal.

uh-oh, look at us

She’s lonely and well past lightly buzzed - she’s teetering the line of drunk. And then Spider-Man crashes through her window like a disgruntled pigeon. Between the two of them, coughing up one brain cell is quite the task.

hold me down, hold me fierce 

You and Peter show up for a blind screening of a horror movie at your local cinema. It leaves you both shaken, but Peter seems to have taken it a bit harder than you.

shampoo & heartbreak

Peter’s superhuman senses make things crystal clear: she got a boyfriend and didn’t tell him. Why else can he smell men’s shampoo in her hair when she’s used the same cherry blossom one for years?

twirling of the apple stem

A curious little gesture leaves Peter wondering, but soon deflates his confidence.

you and me, we’re absolute  - Peter x Gwen

There they were, looking at the face of the person they used to know and realizing that all versions of themselves ultimately lose each other. But him and her, they’re absolute. Across space and time, Peter Parker and Gwen Stacy find each other, no matter how much time they have together.

I... for you

You don't know what it is about the words ‘I brought you something’ that makes your eyes light up. Maybe it's not the words, but rather the person they frequently come from.

Multi-Chapter Fics

like me, like you [in progress - no guarantees for updates]

You and Peter have a bet going about who's got it worse in life. A desperate visit to a curious psychic shop in Brooklyn results in the ultimate wish fulfilment - only, with a twist. You wake up in each other’s bodies.

part 1      part 2

the nearness of you (in my imagination)

part 1    part 2     part 3    part 4    part 5 - scheduled for 02/20/23

Working at a coffee shop is the simple choice. The safe choice. For a while, it even seemed like the promotion and the cute new coworker would make for a content life. But when you leave a mess behind, new ones tend to find you. And they don’t like complications. Peter Parker’s entire vibe is that of a complication.

The Zombie Apocalypse ft. Peter Parker (in progress - hiatus)

part 1  part 2  part 3

He never imagined this being a thing he might live through, but now that it was, he couldn't have had a better partner to navigate it with. They'd face this together, whatever it came to, and they'd come out the other side to whatever it held. For now, they'd have to get through the first day of the zombie apocalypse.

you sure you don’t have superpowers? (complete)

Part 1     Part 2

An afternoon of hanging out with Peter turns deadly when she gets bit by a spider - only, not a radioactive one. No, this one is just plain venomous, but neither of them knows it. There's something else she doesn't know: that her best friend is Spider-Man. When she starts exhibiting weird symptoms, it makes no sense to her why he seems to be losing his mind. After all, it's just a spider bite.

strings of light tie us together (abandoned) - Peter x Gwen

Now that Peter is truly alone in the world, what path will he forge for himself? Will he get close to anyone ever again, knowing what happens to the people he loves? And who is this girl he can’t seem to escape, either by fate or will?

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

[helloheyhihowdyheya]

On a Tuesday | p. 1 of 2

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Life had been a bit lonely – that is until Peter Parker brightened up your life. On a Tuesday. And when that friendship seems to fizzle out on a Tuesday? You’re sure the universe is playing some sort of trick on you.

Word Count: 8,700!

Warnings: Reader has she/her pronouns. Fluff. Eventual friends to lovers in the next part. Hurt and eventual comfort. Angst (a lot of angst, but it gets better). Uncle Ben’s death.

A/N: This story is a bit sadder than my other ones (sorry) but I really enjoyed playing with these characters and following their friendship over the years. Oh and I made some canon changes, like meeting Gwen and Harry in middle school rather than college. Thank you for reading, I love hearing what you guys think! <3

The universe had a funny way of working. Sometimes, it seemed ironic, leaving you with nothing to do but shake your head with a disbelieving sigh. And sometimes, the universe, purposeful and downright cruel or just bluntly uncaring, sharpened into a deadly point cutting along your heart and laughing in your pain. 

It felt especially serrated at school. You had never enjoyed it all that much, mostly because of how lonely the hallways felt, despite how fast they moved as shoulders hit against yours without care or apology. Your parents also required a lot of help around the house with their double and triple shifts, your already bruised shoulders feeling too much weight as you ran home right after school to be there for them. This didn’t leave much time for friends, and the world felt safer if you kept your head down, slinking into your seat while avoiding anyone’s eyes. 

By the time your parents found better jobs, and you finally got the courage to pick your head up, everyone had already made their friend groups, none of which included you. You spent the first day of middle school eating lunch by yourself and walking home with quick steps until the door shut behind you. The days passed this way, weeks and months alone in an isolating school ready to eat you whole.

It wasn’t until an overcast Tuesday well into the year that your life changed, though you didn’t know it at the time. Outside the classroom, the clouds allowed the dirty spring snow to rest a few days longer in its shadows, but you could see tiny blades of grass fighting to poke through into the light. 

You would never admit it, but you thought back to that day a lot, the moment you officially met your saving grace. Sitting in biology, you were grouped into pairs for a project. This wasn’t the first time, but they had all been different. You would get the assignment done, keep the talking to a minimum, and hope that saying less would make the days pass easier.

But on that day, the teacher called your name along with Peter Parker’s. You had seen him around school before, always with his cute floppy head of hair and goofy smile talking to his friends Gwen and Harry. You had grabbed the project sheet and sat at a table next to him, beginning to hastily write in your notebook a list of ideas for the project. You planned to just push it over to your partner at the end and let him decide, but before you finished, you saw the eraser end of a pencil tap the top of your notebook. And finally, after too long spent shielding yourself from the clouded sky, you lifted your head to look at sunshine come to life.

Peter grinned, tilting his head at you. “I was going to ask if you wanna brainstorm ideas, but it looks like you’re already almost done,” he said. 

You looked between the notebook and him, stuttering, “Oh, um, yeah, we can brainstorm if you want. What are you thinking?” You held your pencil above the paper, ready to record any ideas he said. You felt the way your hand shook a little, not used to making actual conversation with another student or the way his gaze felt on you.

He listed off a bunch of ideas, some far too advanced for this class and others that actually sounded interesting. You two decided on a project based on the spherification process, turning different drinks into semi-solid balls that can pop in your mouth like candy. The way he waved his hands in the air describing the principles that made this possible made you smile, excited for something school-related for once.

As the bell rang, Peter began packing up his things, hastily shoving everything crumpled into a ball into his backpack. “We can talk more about it at lunch if you want – my friends and I usually eat near the back,” he told you, practically offering you a hand up out of the hole you sat in with just his words. He said, “They’re gonna love talking to you!” while waving goodbye.

You gave a weak wave, your voice not quite finding the words to respond before he was gone. Watching him walk out of the classroom, his backpack still open and papers nearly falling out, you smiled and let out a breath you had been holding since the start of the year.

You thought back to that day as the start of so much. Peter’s friends really did love having you around, all three of them waving you over to their table at lunch. Gwen made it her mission to become your friend, determined to get some space from these obnoxious boys. They made you laugh and smile until your face hurt, and you sat there grateful for Peter and his neverending kindness toward everyone, especially you.

Gwen asked about your favorite color, where you lived, and what pets you had. But Harry, with a cold cafeteria pizza in his mouth, asked, “Okay, but if you turned into a dragon, what would it look like? Because we’ve all chosen our dragons. Mine would be white on the bottom and dark on the top like a killer whale, so it couldn’t be seen by prey or enemies.”

You thought about the question, a tad worried he would take your answer very seriously, but Peter said in between bites of applesauce, “Harry, whales are colored that way so they’re not visible from the top or bottom. Who is going to see your dragon body from the top if you’re flying all the time?”

“I’m sure there’d be humans coming to hunt me while I’m on the ground feasting!” Harry proclaimed, and the two of them got into a very scientific discussion on the camouflage patterns of dragons, making you laugh while Gwen rolled her eyes.

Leaving the cafeteria once lunch finished felt… empty. Almost like the few days after a vacation somewhere new, and you had to adjust back to normal life. Before you left the building at the end of the day, the three of them found you and invited you to go bowling that weekend. That day, you ran home as usual, but this time in excitement to tell your parents about your new friends when they got done with work.

They saw the way you bounced up and down, words falling out of your mouth too fast as you spoke about Peter, Gwen, and Harry. When they offered to drive you to the bowling alley and meet the other parents, the weekend couldn’t come fast enough, even though you still saw them at lunch every day. 

There had been bowling alley food and drinks, and the bowling itself was fine, but your parents got to see your toothy smile they hadn’t seen in a while as you laughed with your friends. Most of it had been at gutter balls, but then a thundering crash sounded from the end of your bowling lane, your head turning to see who nailed a strike that fast. 

That’s when you first saw Uncle Ben, who high-fived everyone and yelled, “Still got it!” He came last to Aunt May, who you had briefly met, their hands entwining while Peter went up to bowl his turn. You looked at everyone there and suddenly couldn’t wait to start your life with these people. 

The four of you spent the next years inseparable, always at one another’s houses. You never went over to Harry’s much, though you knew better than to pry, given how he tensed when speaking of his father. But you all loved spending time at Peter’s, doing homework on the living room floor together until the afternoon sun began to stretch into the evening. The family dinners were your favorite.

Sitting around the table, you listened to Uncle Ben (who had basically become everyone’s uncle) tell stories of young Peter that left you doubled over laughing and Peter with red cheeks, which just made him look even more adorable. Aunt May would hush Ben, telling him to stop embarrassing the poor boy. A few minutes later, though, she’d always find more cute childhood pictures to show the three of you. 

Harry’s favorite was one of Peter in just a diaper covered head to toe in cake and blue frosting, and Gwen pointed out one of him sitting on a pony at some birthday party. But the pointy birthday hat had fallen over his eyes, giving him a bit of a unicorn horn. Your favorite, though, was one of Peter holding hands with two adults, swinging up off the ground with the widest smile you’d ever seen. 

You assumed it was May and Ben in the picture until you saw the way Peter stared at the photo, like he was trying to relive that moment in his head. It had to be his mom and dad holding on to young Peter’s little hands, and you could only imagine how he felt. You weren’t sure what to do, so you just rested your head on his shoulder, breaking him from his faraway gaze for a brief second. His usual grin returned as Aunt May brought out her famous wheat cakes.

He clapped his hands together and licked his lips obnoxiously, making you laugh and hit his arm lightly. You never knew the beauty of wheat cakes until coming to the Parker's house, but you weren’t one to turn down breakfast for dinner. 

Then, as night grew closer, there was always a heavy sigh weighing on you, a pull to stay there, safe, at home with them. But you’d lay in bed hours later, excited for the next day when you got to see them again, a chorus of their laughs playing in your head as you fell asleep.

When the four of you entered high school, not much had changed, at first. Classes were a bit harder, but you had each other to lean back on. You all eventually got your driver’s licenses and drove back and forth between houses and the school, taking turns carpooling there or to the skate park and mall.

One night, Peter was driving the four of you back from a late-night showing of some action comedy you had all seen together. You looked into the back seat, finding Harry and Gwen both fast asleep. Gwen rested her chin on her hand while Harry’s head hung forward, which was sure to hurt when he woke up.

Turning your gaze back forward, you notice the flickering orange light of lamp posts passing through the car. They glowed against the night sky, making the stars twinkle a little brighter. You looked left at Peter, watching the way the light reflected against his glasses. You weren’t sure how it happened so slowly, but he had grown so much in the past few years.

He was taller, making his body somehow look even leaner than before. You liked how his hair swooped backward now that he had learned how to style it as something other than a mop covering his eyes. He had finally grown facial hair, though it was just a little stubble running along his cheeks. He had grown up so lovely right before your eyes, and you hadn’t seen it. 

His head turned to look at you, his dark eyes catching yours. You instead peered at the road, your face hot, certain he had felt your staring. His sly grin grew, and you just laughed a bit, trying to bring yourself to hate how smug he looked, but you had always loved that smile of his. It felt brighter than any of the stars or lights surrounding you.

In a whispered tone, he asked, “How’d you like the movie?” His eyes never left the road, but you knew he was paying attention.

You leaned back against the headrest and let out a quiet sigh. “It was fun; those actors are always so funny,” you told him, glancing back at his face. “Though I’m not sure I could hear it very well with your loud laughing in my ear the whole time,” you said, a smile evident in your voice.

He let out a hushed scoff, “It was not that loud. It was much quieter than those stupid comments you kept making.”

You faked a gasp, “Peter, you know you love my jokes, even if they are dumb.” You both laughed, and that’s why you always leaned over to him to say a silly joke, to hear that beautiful laugh. The car fell into a comfortable silence the rest of the way home, your heart feeling full and happy. You had wished, as always, to stay with them as he dropped you off at your house, but you just waved goodbye.

And just like you didn’t know that day you met Peter would change your life around, you didn’t know you were in the best times until they were over. As high school continued on, you began to see less and less of them over time. It started with a missed lunch here, a movie night cut short there, but each time one of you wasn’t there, you felt it.

You still tried meeting up for lunch and after school, but Harry threw himself into his studies (which you assumed he did to impress his father). You tried to console him and help him with homework, all of you did, but he withdrew into himself more and more with each passing day. He joined study groups, after-school programs, and tutoring until it became just the three of you then.

Until Gwen slowly shifted toward the student org she ran – the women in science club. She became president in no time and ran it beautifully, as you knew she would. You helped her make some flyers for events, and she still joined the lunch table once in a while, but you saw her with her club friends more and more often. Your side felt empty and cold without her leaning into it while trying not to spit food everywhere from laughing so hard.

And then it was two. You still enjoyed throwing cold fries and stale bread at Peter, sometimes still visiting his house (which you teased Peter by saying it was only because of his aunt and uncle). But at the lunch table, he would sometimes just sit there with his head on his hand. Sometimes, he’d stare into nothing, and sometimes, you’d catch him staring at MJ Watson sitting with her friends, most of them also in the theater program. 

It wasn’t until Peter joined the photography club and started trying for that Daily Bugle internship that you really felt lonely. He’d run past you in the halls, yelling, “I can’t make it to lunch today!” just about every other day.

You found a couple of other students with similar interests as you, but they weren’t Peter, Gwen, and Harry. They didn’t make you forget your own problems at home or bring homemade wheat cakes during finals. It hit particularly hard on a cold Tuesday, the day you found out the news. 

You didn’t know exactly what was wrong, but you had a sickly, gnawing feeling in your stomach as soon as you got to school. You texted Peter about plans for after school, but he didn’t return it. You searched for him around school, hoping to find him in his classes, but he was nowhere to be found. It was so unlike him to up and disappear without at least mentioning something, and he didn’t answer any calls either. You finally tracked down Harry and Gwen at lunch when you couldn’t take it anymore.

You grabbed Harry by his sleeve and dragged him over to Gwen, where you interrupted her conversation, motioning her to follow with a pointed look. With a small huff, she got up after the two of you. Harry asked, “What is it?”

The three of you stood so close, and you could feel the heat coming off their bodies. It felt particularly hard in your stomach to remember you hadn’t been this close to them in a while. You breathed out a long sigh and grabbed their hands, squeezing them while saying, “It’s Peter. I can’t find him anywhere.”

That hard weight in your stomach sunk deep when you saw their furrowed eyebrows as they looked at each other. Gwen spoke up, “So?”

You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip and said, “I don’t know, he’s not answering my calls or anything. I just have this horrible feeling that something’s happened.” You knew it sounded melodramatic to them, but it was Peter. You all knew he’d be there for you if it was the other way around. At least you thought so, but everything else was changing…

You pulled at their hands, urging them to follow as you said, “Come on, we gotta go check his house. Check in with May to see if she knows anything.”

They started to move, but their steps stuttered and eventually dropped your hands. Gwen and Harry looked back at their lunch tables and at their new friends – friends they might now know better than you guys know each other. 

Gwen spoke up first, softly saying, “We can’t just skip school like this. I mean, he might not even be there, or there might not even be anything wrong.”

Harry cleared his throat. “Yeah, he could just be sick for all we know. I can’t really risk getting in trouble right now,” he said, scratching the back of his neck, “especially with how my dad’s been lately.”

You shifted back a little, your heart beating hard against your chest, the pounding ricocheting in your ears. “Are you serious? Guys, this is Peter. We wouldn’t do that.”

Gwen just said, “I’m sorry,” as she grabbed your hand and gave it a single squeeze. “We’ll swing by after school.” She bit her lip and corrected herself, “Actually, after the club’s meeting.”

You just pressed your mouth tight and turned around toward the Parker house, your home at one point. It wasn’t too far from school, and if nothing was wrong, you could make it back without missing too much.

Any explanations you were rehearsing in your head about why you randomly showed up at their house disappeared when you saw the cop car outside the porch steps. Running to the door, your whole body felt on edge, like it was building up to the teetering drop-off of a cliff. You knocked on the door, every second passing feeling much too long.

When the door finally swung open, any air in your body left at the sight of Aunt May with red eyes and a crumpled tissue in her hand. She broke down, throwing her arms around your shoulders while sniffling, “Oh, dear…”

You hugged her, rubbing your hand along her back and fearing that something had happened to Peter. Unsure of what to do about the shakes coursing through her body, you just stood there, holding her upright. Usually, it was her consoling you kids.

She pulled back, looking at you for a few moments before inviting you inside. You peered past her to see a police officer sitting at the kitchen table talking with Peter, who also had teary eyes. You knew better than to interrupt their conversation, but you couldn’t contain your relief and went running to him, enveloping him in a hug so tight it knocked the wind out of him. 

“Peter, I’m so glad you’re okay,” you whispered, your cheek resting against his shoulder. You felt his hands wrap around you, but they were wavering. You pulled back, looking between him and the cop.

You heard May’s soft voice from behind you say, “It’s Uncle Ben. He was attacked last night, and,” her voice wavered, and she had to take a deep breath.

“And he was murdered by some monster.” You whipped your head back around to look at Peter, his hands balled into fists that he pounded into the table. Your eyes widened, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. A million questions raced through your mind as tears began to form. 

The police officer motioned for you to sit down, moving the box of tissues closer to you. You took them as he explained some of the information they currently had on the incident. Your eyes glazed over as you listened, your body unable to keep up with everything while trying to come to terms that you wouldn’t get to talk with Uncle Ben again.

Peter exhaled a long breath beside you, and you moved your hand on top of his. You tried tracing small circles on his skin but felt his muscles tense. You lifted away from him, just barely ghosting over his hand. You turned to look at him, his face looking tired and his hair tangled from running his fingers through it repeatedly, but he refused to look back at you.

It wasn’t until the officer left that you even remembered Gwen and Harry. You turned to Aunt May, your mouth opening and closing before saying, “Is it okay if I tell the others to come over? I think they’d want to know, but it’s okay if you want to just be left alone.”

She gave a sweet smile and her eyes crinkled. “Of course, they’re family.”

You smiled back, warmed by her words even if it hadn’t felt like much of a family for a while. You texted them to get to the house as soon as possible, forgetting about clubs and school. You were afraid they wouldn’t answer or tell you that they couldn’t make it, but Harry texted a minute later that they were on their way.

May had been busying herself with tidying up the place and shooed you off when you offered to help. You let her be but felt strange as you saw Peter, who hadn’t moved in ages. You knew his mind was reeling, that look in his eyes only present when he was determined to solve something. It weirded you out a little, but there was a knock at the door before you could say anything.

You rushed to it and ushered Gwen and Harry inside. The next few hours passed in a blur of deep grief and reminiscing as the five of you tried processing everything. You repeated what the cop had told you, breaking down a few times at the unfairness of it all.

The three of you offered to help May and Peter out in any way you could. Gwen was already making a grocery list for them while Harry got to work on things they needed to plan the funeral. You vowed to come over every day for anything they needed, half-joking that you needed to keep Aunt May from cleaning the house so much it’d feel like living in a department store showroom.

She just laughed, pulling you three into a long hug. Gwen and Harry eventually got up to head home, promising they’ll bring everything tomorrow. You were quietly talking with May, about to leave as well, when you saw Peter finally stand up. He pushed his chair out far and walked toward the stairs with heavy steps and a clenched jaw. With furrowed eyebrows, you excused yourself and followed him upstairs.

“Peter! Peter, wait. Are you… okay?” You shook your head. “I’m sorry, that’s a bad question. I meant, can I help? Did you want to talk?”

He stopped right in front of his bedroom, turning to look you in the eyes for what felt like the first time in months. Maybe it was. He sighed and rubbed his hands across his face, his fingers curling into his skin as he let out a long groan. “No. I don’t want to talk. Thanks for the help and everything,” he said, his eyebrows raised and voice growing strained, “but I’m good. Just… I’ll see you at the funeral, okay?”

And before you can even respond, he walked into his room and shut the door hard enough to make you jump. You heard a quiet “sorry” from the other side, and then… silence, something you would grow accustomed to over time.

You came back every day with Gwen and Harry as promised, but you rarely saw Peter while helping with funeral preparations. You barely got to talk with Peter and May at the dreary funeral later that week, their minds occupied with grief and welcoming the many people that came from all over for Uncle Ben.

For the next several months, over the chilly winter season, you felt so far away from Peter. He came back to school the following week, but just his body. His mind was always elsewhere, his eyes staring at nothing when at one point, they seemed to hold everything. He skipped most lunches, but it felt just as lonely when he did join you. Harry and Gwen would sit by you guys when he showed up, but all conversation would fall flat as he only spoke a few words at a time, if at all.

You still visited their house occasionally, mostly to check up on Aunt May at that point. Winter rolled around before you knew it, and you tramped your way through the snow to bring some gifts to them. May brought you inside, taking your coat and pushing you toward the fireplace. You laughed, happy to see that she seemed better. Despite your protests to rest a little, she had been pouring herself into helping at the local soup kitchen.

“It keeps my mind and body busy. I’ll be okay,” she said, bringing you in for a hug and asking, “Now, dear, did you bring all these for us?” She gestured to the presents.

“Oh, yeah. Hanukkah presents for you and Peter,” you responded.

“I completely forgot. I’m so sorry,” she said. When you waved her off, she offered, “I did make dessert. Is that good enough?”

As soon as she said it, you smelled the wheat cakes from the kitchen. “Oh, May, that is more than enough. Thank you.”

“Great, let me just call Peter down,” she said.

While waiting, you looked around the house. It was a little messier, but not too much had changed, though it felt emptier, colder with only half of you there. The air changed just slightly once Peter walked down the stairs, his head down in his phone. 

Despite everything, it still felt like a breath of fresh air whenever you saw him, like everything was going to be okay. You wished you could make him feel the same way. As the three of you sat down, May uncovered the pile of wheat cakes, the lid still keeping them warm. 

You and Aunt May made talk here and there about classes and the weather, but once your stomachs were happy and full, she nudged Peter’s side. “Peter, it looks like we have some special gifts. Do you want to open them?” she asked.

She sounded like a mother speaking to a child, but it got him to finally look up at you and say something. “Oh, thanks.”

May scoffed at his answer and reached for a small present with her name scribbled across it. She opened it up and laughed, seeing the packet of homemade coupons you’d made. She flipped through it, pointing out some funny ones like “Free dad joke.” But she gasped when she saw others that you had snuck in there, like real coupons for people to come professionally clean or cook for them a couple times a year.

You said, “Gwen and Harry also chipped in for those; they’ve just been pretty busy lately.” A sorry smile spread across your face.

“This is so wonderful, thank you. It will be such a relief to get this place back in order,” she told you, squeezing your hand as she said, “and back to normal.”

You squeezed back, then said, “This one is for you, Peter, though I’m sure both of you will love it.”

Peter took the larger present, unwrapping it a bit haphazardly. He pulled the gift out, revealing a photo album. On the cover, it held a picture of all of you from years ago: Uncle Ben and Aunt May standing in the back while Gwen hopped on Peter’s back for a piggyback ride, and you and Harry were holding up “bunny ears” behind each other’s heads. You had set up a self-timer to get this one, and although it was chaotic, it was the best one you got. And it had always been your favorite.

You spoke up, pointing out pictures as Peter flipped through the pages. “It’s got all of our photos from over the years. There are some of us at the zoo, and there’s one of us hanging up Halloween decorations. Uncle Ben always hated that scarecrow we put up,” you said, laughing at a photo of him posing angrily next to it.

You heard May sniffle as she said, “Oh, it’s perfect. I can’t believe you kept all of these.”

Smiling back at her, you’re thankful they like it, though you noticed Peter getting that faraway look again as he stared at each of the photos. You patted his hand and said, “I left some open spots in case you wanted to add any other pictures. I think it’s missing one of you covered in frosting.”

A small grin graced his face, and it felt like the clouds had opened up just a little, letting in the smallest sliver of sunlight in. He talked about some of the other photos, the three of you reminiscing about all the great times. 

As the night wrapped up, you gave both of them hugs. When you pulled away, though, you saw Peter return to that person you no longer knew. And you stared at him for a moment before waving goodbye, stepping out into the dark, snowy world, not knowing that was one of the last times you’d see him smile at you for years.

Months passed in a blur until a couple of weeks before the school year ended. You hadn’t seen much of Gwen, Harry, or Peter in a while, part of you just accepting this change. It hurt looking over at them and seeing their wide smiles with other friends, so you did your best to ignore them and keep your head down, like old times. 

That was until everything came to a crashing halt. One morning, your parents announced that you would be moving at the end of the school year, across the country, where you would finish your last two years of school. They had gotten new jobs and could get a bigger house, finally giving the family a good life, as your father had put it, but you couldn’t care less. It felt like a punch to the gut, their words lost on your ringing ears. 

You left the house early, your eyes filled with tears. You tried calming your erratic breaths in and out, but they didn’t want to cooperate. You found a park bench to sit on, staring at the grass against your shoes so no one saw your bloodshot eyes. And because it was so sunny out. There were so few clouds in the sky, the blue so stark against the piercing sun. It didn’t feel right for the birds to be singing, people cheerily chatting, and the sun to be so bright on a day like this. On a Tuesday.

You eventually made your way to school early, unable to sit with your tears much longer. Before the bell rang, you stood outside the school entrance waiting for them. The couple of people that would care, that needed to know. 

You found Harry first. He sluggishly walked toward the school, headphones on and mind unaware of the world. You rested your hand on his arm, startling him from his daze with a small gasp.

“Hey!” you said with a small wave. He greeted back with a nod, looking at you expectantly, and the silence felt stifling. Clearing your throat, you asked, “I, um, hope you’re doing well! I was wondering if you wanted to hang out after school today? I have some news, and we could hang out at Peter’s like we used to.”

He breathed in through clenched teeth, squinting his eyes a bit. “I actually have a study group after school today. Maybe tomorrow?” he offered.

You bit your lip, some sort of emotion building in your throat, but you just agreed, saying, “Yeah, we can try that.” He nodded, putting on his headphones and leaving, barely a goodbye falling from his mouth.

Gwen came next. You felt unsure as she walked in with some other science students, but you were determined to tell her. Just like Harry, she offered an apologetic smile. “Today and tomorrow are fundraising events for the org. Maybe Thursday?”

You sighed and nodded your head, your chest welling up even tighter. Through the sea of students, you craned your neck to find Peter. Maybe he would at least say something to change this day around. 

You caught a glimpse of his bouncing brown hair above everyone else, a smile spreading across your face at the sight. Taking quick steps over to him, you tapped his shoulder, but he didn’t stop moving. All he said was, “Oh, I won’t be–”

“Be at lunch, I know,” You said, cutting off his daily mantra. “This is about something else. I have some news I gotta share with you guys, but Gwen and Harry are busy until Friday. Would you be free then for all of us to hang out?” you ask, your heart filled with so much hope, pleading for him to say yes.

“Um…” he said, not looking at you. He finally stopped as he got to his locker, distractedly putting away notebooks and grabbing other ones. “Friday, Friday. This Friday? Uh, oh, actually I can’t. I have plans Friday,” he mumbled, closing his locker.

You’re about to open your mouth and ask what his plans are when he whipped his head to the side and stared with a smile so wide you thought he’d hurt himself. And in that brief moment, you felt that your heart was nearly going to explode from how happy he looked, a peacefulness you hadn’t seen in so long. 

As you turned your head to follow his gaze, your heart instead deflated a bit. He stared head over heels at MJ walking toward the two of you. He said, “Well, actually, there are my Friday plans.”

You pursed your lips and nodded. In a hollow voice, you asked, “Next week, then?” You pushed your fingernails into your palm to distract yourself from the dam about to burst inside you.

“Uh, yeah. Sure,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. You were almost positive he didn’t even hear what you said, and you turned to walk down the hallway before he could utter another word. You even tried texting them later that day to confirm plans but received vague thumbs-up emojis or a “K.”

And it was on that too-sunny Tuesday that it felt that your friendship with them as you knew it had ended. You thought about texting them a million times, but you were tired – tired of being the one holding on so tight when they would rather let go. So you didn’t tell them.

Those last few weeks at school seemed like it had all those years ago. Your eyes barely seemed to leave the ground, and you stayed up in your room more often than not when you got home every day. You slowly began packing up the house, the walls and floors looking so empty as the day you would shove your life into a car grew closer. 

And though you were still sad or angry or both at your friends, a few days before you left, you were determined to say something to them about your departure, about this end of an era that had already ended. You planned to stop at their houses, one by one, and say goodbye. You wrote up some letters in case they weren’t home to explain your feelings – to Harry, Gwen, Peter, and Aunt May. It somehow felt better than sending off a text or a voicemail since they rarely answered calls anyway. 

You first went to Harry’s, the enormous house standing menacingly over the city. You hadn’t expected him to be home, probably at some study group or event his father required him at, and you were right. Instead, a woman who worked for the family answered the door and let you know that Harry was occupied elsewhere.

You handed her the letter with his name neatly printed on the envelope and thanked her for passing it along to him. You mostly had written about what you hoped for his future life, that you would be sad to miss out on seeing the incredible person you knew he was meant to be. You reminisced here and there but tried keeping it light. 

As you said goodbye to the woman, you saw a man pass through the hallway. His tall figure turned to you, and you knew it was Norman Osborn staring indignantly at you. And then the door shut, and you turned around with your heart in your throat. 

You arrived a bit later to Gwen’s house, and the realization that you were hoping she wasn’t home had you biting your lip. She had once been so happy to have a girl to be friends with, and it had sometimes been hard seeing her have so many that weren’t you. As you pulled up to her street, your stomach dropped a little at seeing how many cars were outside the house.

Knocking on the front door, you found that not only was Gwen home but so was nearly the entire women in science club. Her father opened the door, a look of shock and happiness on her face. “Oh! What a sight for sore eyes! Come in, come in. I didn’t know you were part of Gwen’s club.”

Your words didn’t come easy, but you stumbled out, “Oh, I was actually just here to talk to Gwen, but she seems busy.” You looked past his shoulder and saw her standing in front of the other women, looking like she was practicing a speech with a tall stack of notecards. “Would you be able to give this to her?”

You handed him the envelope. It had her name and some small doodles on the outside. Her dad nodded, taking the letter and giving you a smile before you walked away. Back in your car, you closed your eyes for a few moments and let out a long breath. Most of what you had written was about your happiest memories with her and some of the pride you felt at seeing her become so successful already, not that you were surprised. You had also enclosed a purple hand-pressed flower that you two had made years ago, the rest of them now packed away, as you couldn’t bring yourself to leave them.

And then, you found yourself in front of Peter’s house, parking in the same spot on the street as you always did, only doing so usually felt much happier. Your heart beat in time to your rapid knocking on their door, but it calmed the second your eyes fell upon Aunt May. With an excited “Oh!” she immediately pulled you in for a tight hug and invited you in. Stepping across into the house felt like coming home.

She got to work on offering drinks and snacks as she always did. “I have time to make these fancy snacks now since I don’t have to spend time cleaning. Thank you again for that; it truly is a gift that keeps on giving,” she said, patting your back. “It’s been especially nice since Peter hasn’t been around as much lately to help out.”

Your eyebrows raised, concerned that he had been absent from both school and home. “Speaking of Peter, is he here at the moment?” you asked with a bouncing leg and fingers tight against the letters in your lap.

Her voice sounded quieter, though you hoped it was because her back was to you. “No, he’s out somewhere. Sometimes it’s with that sweet girl MJ, but sometimes he’s been elsewhere,” she said, turning to look at you. “He won’t tell me what’s going on, but he’ll come back bruised, and I’m afraid he’s in trouble. You haven’t seen anything at school, have you?” You shook your head, eyes cast down at the table as you traced a finger along the wood grain. “No, I haven’t really seen much of him there. Is he okay?”

She sighed, putting her head in her hand. “I think so? But I really don’t know with that boy. After Uncle Ben… he’s changed.”

Giving a small nod, you cleared your throat and said, “He’s tough. I’m sure he’s taking care of himself. I, um, I just came by to tell you guys the news. My family is moving, and we leave in a couple of days.” You finally bring your gaze to look at hers, and you almost wish you hadn’t when you see the way her face dropped.

“Oh, dear,” she whispered before crossing the room to you and holding you. The tears that had held in for weeks finally let loose as she wrapped her warm arms around you. She let out quiet shushes and rubbed your back. You eventually pulled back, and she took your hands in hers. You stared down at the sunspots and loving wrinkles adorning the back of her hands and up her body. 

Your tears turned to occasional sniffles, and you handed Peter’s letter to May, asking her to pass it along to him. She carefully took it, her fingers rubbing against the ink of his name with a frown. “I’m sure he will love the letter, but I will make him call you. You deserve a real goodbye, love.”

“It’s okay, May. We don’t really talk much anyway, so I think this is a fine goodbye for us,” you said, your teeth chewing on the inside of your mouth. It turned into a small smile at thinking of what you had written. It was filled with old memories that made you laugh, but it also held your confession and gratitude for how Peter forever changed your life. It was a sappy letter full of love and regret, and you were glad to not have to say any of it out loud.

You were drawn from your thoughts as May spoke up again, saying, “You know, I really do love this Mary Jane. He seems happy with her, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t expect you and him to be together one day.” When you just looked at her with a blank face, she said, “He looked at you with what can only be described as love. Uncle Ben used to have that same look.”

Her words knocked a breath from your chest, and you were too exhausted and unhappy to really entertain the thought of Peter liking you. You were leaving, and that would be the end of it. May, sensing your quiet internal battle, stood up and got to work in the kitchen. While taking out the ingredients, she said, “How about one more batch for old time’s sake?” The two of you ate the wheat cakes in content silence, and you looked at this woman who had become your own aunt, practically your mother, and knew that’s where Peter got his unending kindness from.

A few days later, your family began packing up the car and a trailer of course, of course, on the Tuesday after school ended. Your dad hoped to make it to your new home by the weekend and get settled by that Monday. Sweat pilled on your forehead as you lifted box after box. You were thankful for the heat and work to do to distract yourself from being washed away at the sight of your emptying house.

After setting another box labeled “FRAGILE” into the trailer, you turned around to find Gwen pulling up, tires screeching as she parked crooked and raced out of the car. Her voice rose high as she shouted, “What is this?” She ran to you, holding the letter tight in her hands. “I mean, you’re just up and leaving?”

You opened your mouth to answer but closed it as a sleek car pulled, one you recognized as Harry’s. He popped out of the car, his eyes locked on yours. He was out of breath and his hair wild as he approached the two of you. You had written the time you were planning on leaving but couldn’t help but feel sad that they didn’t read the letters until right before you were meant to drive away.

Harry looked at Gwen and the letter in her hands. “Oh, you got one too! So this isn’t some terrible joke you’re pulling on us?” he asked in disbelief, his eyes scanning over the trailer and boxes.

You played with the hem of your shirt and looked anywhere but them, afraid it would let everything loose. “I tried telling you guys earlier, but…” you said and let out a long breath. You debated letting all your anger and tears out, but you couldn’t destroy everything right before leaving, so you sugar-coated it. “We never got together, and you guys were pretty busy. I just thought it’d be easier this way.”

As Gwen pulled you into a hug, and you soon felt Harry’s body join in, you whispered, “I’m going to miss you guys.” You willed yourself to keep it in, to just focus on the way Gwen’s hair brushed against your skin and the way Harry’s breath tickled against your ear, and the fact that they showed up to say goodbye. You tried to sear this moment in your mind.

When the three of you pulled back, they offered to help you pack things into the trailer. Your parents were ecstatic to see them, inviting them in for some car ride snacks and bottled water. In an instant, you were back in middle school again, cracking jokes and messing with each other. 

A little bit later, you found yourself outside trying to pack a lamp at just the right angle with Harry. It was just the two of you out there, Gwen inside helping your parents grab the very last things. You finally got it to fit perfectly and high-fived each other with wide smiles. 

As his grin faded, he cleared his throat and said, “I came to say goodbye, obviously, but I also wanted to say thank you.” At your furrowed eyebrows, he continued, “Thank you for what you said in the letter, I mean. I can get pretty lost in my own head sometimes, and I’m grateful when you bring me back.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, knowing you didn’t have to say anything. He knew you’d always be there for him. Gwen and your parents came back out, and it was time. She came and gave a final hug, weepily saying, “You better send us pictures of out west, or else.” 

It gets a teary laugh out of you, and you responded, “As long as you send pictures of you as valedictorian or the president of the U.S., whichever happens first.”

The three of you said your goodbyes, and it took a bit long to finally let go. In the embrace, you still peered out on the street, looking for one last car to show up. But it never did. You eventually got into the car and waved at Gwen and Harry as it pulled away. Trees and grass and buildings and people you had come to love passed by in a blur. You let out a long sigh, thinking of whether your letter to Peter just  wasn’t enough for him to show up.

Peter,

I hope you’re doing well.

I feel like I should know how you’re doing, but it seems lately that we are on two different islands, like there’s an ocean between us or something. Maybe that’s a bit dramatic for describing our friendship, but I wish I could’ve visited your island more often.

Would it be dramatic to say you changed my life? I hope you remember that day we were paired up for that science project because I’ve never forgotten – not the way Dr. Pepper exploded all over you or the way you invited me into your life. The Parkers became a second family to me, to all of us, and I could never repay you for that kindness. 

I’m sure by now you have that classic Peter look of confusion on your face, wondering why this letter feels like a goodbye. Do you know that one Winnie the Pooh quote that goes “How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.” In looking for a bit of the bright side in this dark sky, I guess the distance between us has made saying goodbye a little less hard.

The bottom line: I’m leaving on Tuesday, sometime before noon. We’ll be across the country by the weekend, and I’ll finish up school there. I planned to tell you all in person, but I guess we never quite found the right time. Between you and me, I still think about how our friendship could’ve been. How we ended up here. What we could’ve done differently to get that happy ending.

I hope you come to say goodbye or at least harass me while I pack my stuff. I miss the way things were, Peter. How it felt so easy for the four of us, how easy you made my life. But our friendship doesn’t feel easy anymore, and I’m not sure I can keep our friendship alive by myself. Hopefully, I’ll be here for you again when you come back to us.

I still wonder where you went after that night, mentally I mean. I’m so sorry about everything with Uncle Ben. He truly was a beacon of light, and I still see that in you. And though you never talked to us about it, I sincerely hope you figure things out someday. 

And also figure out how special you are. You truly have a gift to be shared with the world. Can’t wait to see you in the news one day. Go easy on yourself, and please give Aunt May some extra hugs for me while I’m gone.

You had drawn a quick heart at the end with watery eyes and attached old photos of the group, your favorite memories scribbled onto the back. You hoped the tears that had fallen on the page were dry now and unnoticeable. 

The welcome sign to the next city flew past the car, and you laid back against the headrest. You guess all it took for your friends to reunite was your leaving, and yet it wasn’t enough for Peter to show. You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand. In that bumpy car ride, leaving your home and a piece of your heart there, you promised this would be the last time you let Peter make you feel this way.

And you didn’t know it until years later, but Peter did show up. His ratty car sputtered onto the street and parked halfway in the grass, the other half making it in the driveway. Neither you or your family were there, your car having left just an hour earlier. But you had already blocked his number in your determination to keep him from breaking your heart again. As your eyes stared out the window, watching the way the world passed by, you refused to look back.

Part two

[slashingdisneypasta]

Total Drama Villains x Reader || Drabble Set

Plot: You forget to take a towel to the shower and only realise after the shower, so you open the window to stick your head out and ask whoever's out there (Hoping someone is out there) to grab you one but to your chagrin- there's just a villain.

Includes: Chris, Heather, Mal and Scott.

Warnings: Mmmm, I dont think so. Swearing? A kiss?

~~~

All:

You slowly look around the room, very very aware of the fact that you're naked and cold in a room that does not have a great lock on it. "Ohhhhhh no." The words come out low and steady... but are just brimming with panic.

No. Towel.

No towel!!

Finally you gasp, covering the bottom half of your face with your hands and looking at the benches and the sinks in dread. You accidentally came in here without a towel!!

The sudden sound of footsteps out the back of the cabin rips a gasp from your throat and you lunge at the window, unlatching the lock and opening it to see who it is. Before you even stick your head out, you're calling for whoever it to stop. Please. Hold on! I need your help!

Chris McLean:

*You are an adult camper.

When you actually see who's standing out there, you groan. Chris McLean stands outside on the grass, hands in his pockets and an intrigued look in his eyes. He know's he's about to be amused, or he's going to amuse himself depending on what kind of trouble you're in- or what kind of help you apparently need.

"What's up?~"

"Nevermind."

"Oh no no no! Come on, you can confide in Uncle Chris, cant you?"

A whine tumbles out of you. Uncle Chris?? Grooooooooss. He see's and acknowledges your disgusted reaction to him calling himself that, but just giggles. He doesn't leave, to your utter annoyance.

What other choice do you have?? Rolling your eyes, you look down at your feet instead of meeting his beady eyes and wiggle your toes. And mutter suuuuper quietly, half hoping he doesn't hear you. "I forgot to bring a towel... and I really need one... " And, this part you say especially quietly. For seriously asking Chris fucking McLean for a hand would be akin to letting your dignity pack its bags and fly the coop. "... and would you please get one for me... "

"... Sorry, I didn't catch that. What didja say?"

Oh god. A little louder, you say shortly. "... I forgot a towel... "

Chris smirks at that, rolling back on the feels of his feet. "And? What would you like from me, Y/N?"

Finally too frustrated to keep playing this stupid game with the show's host, you snap your eyes up to his and cross your arms. "Fine! Damnit. Get me a towel, please."

Immediately, a cat like grin slowly spreads across Chris' face. Its the most evil thing you have ever seen.

"Now why would I do that when I could get Chef here to send in a buncha rabid bats with you and flush you out?" Christ teases - no, threatens. But then again, does he know the difference in the first place? - , that famous, alabaster white, terror instilling grin on his face as usual. "Now that's, good TV!"

You groan, head falling back on your neck, in frustration. "Chrr-ris!!"

"Ha ha! Well? What do you expect?" You cant argue with that, but you cans till groan again. "Okay, fine. I'll get you a towel! But what will you do for me, heh? Nothing comes for free."

"Oh, don't I know it. I've been on this show for 3 seasons now." For some reason.

"Heh heh."

"Fine, I'll... " Ugh, something for Chris... You blow air out of your cheeks slowly, in thought. What would Chris like? Well, he'd sure get kick out of you getting one of your friends hurt but that's sure as hell not happening. Finally, after a few moments, you get an idea. And scowl. "I'll be sure to drum up some drama for you. Good TV, right?"

"For sure! Promise?~"

Sighing, you lean tiredly on the window sill. "Oh, I cross my heart and hope to die." You promise him like he's a child, which he basically is. Chris McLean has got the maturity level and the intelligence package of a 7 year old on crack.

"Wicked! Heh heh, this'll be good. Okay, hang tight. I'll be back."

You smirk at his retreating back.

~

When he finally gets back and hands you a towel - a much nicer towel then what you and the other campers have been using. Which is nice? But also, you cant help but worry about what kind of strings might be attached to it, - through a crack in the door, you carefully wrap it around your body and tightly tuck it in.

"I'll want that towel back" He snaps, cranky. Why?? He could've just gone and gotten you your towel! "I imported that from Fiji!"

Of course he did.

Now you take a deeeeeeep breath, gathering all your courage, and killing the butterflies reeking havoc in your stomach. Then open the door again and grab hold of the front of Chris' signature teal shirt and wrench him close before he can walk too far off.

And you smash your lips together and slam your eyes tightly closed.

When you pull back from the kiss - a horrible, unpleasant, bad kiss, - you immediately wipe your mouth with your arm and let him go. But when you reveal your mouth again, you're for damn sure smirking at the stunned man. "Is that dramatic enough for you, Chris? A camper and the host? Scandalous- I bet we'll be front page news."

Then quickly you lock yourself inside the bathroom again, not really caring for his reaction- which only comes, finally, minutes later when you're half way dressed.

"DAMN IT Y/N!!"

Heather:

"Hm." Heather crosses her arms, an evil smirk on her lips- opportunity has knocked on her door. Or, the inside of the shower cabin. "You need something from me. Well! What will you do for me return? Hm?"

As expected. "I will vote for whoever you want me to at 2 different instances of your choice going forward. Except for myself, I wont vote myself out."

She thinks for a moment, but definitely looks pleased. "Three, different instances of my choice."

Fucks sake- "Fine! Just- please! I'm getting cold and one of the boys could come in here at any time and see me butt ass naked!!"

Uncrossing her arms and setting her hands on her hips instead, Heather laughs. "Oh- one of these boys? Shower? Haha. Have you smelled them??"

You blush darkly at her joking with you; At your worry but not your expense, before shaking your head of silly feelings and usher the pretty girl Heather, forward. "Go! Go! Get my towel already."

"Be right back." She rolls her eyes, heading off.

~

When she gets back, she reaches up to the window with the towel and you gratefully take it, beginning to dry off any drips from your body and get dressed as quickly as possible. "Thank you Heather!!"

"Mhm, yeah. Sure."

A few minutes later when you leave the door, Heather's waiting for you on the porch and you basically have a small stroke- jesus christ, why is she there!? STILL!?

"Oh, relax. I'm just cashing in some of your part of the bargain." She sneers, walking closer to you and pressing a sharp fingernail into your chest. "Dont forget, you owe me now."

"I remember Heather, we did this like 10 minutes ago."

"Good." She smiles, a tint of evil to it still. Pleasantly surprised that you're being so obedient. She leans back. "Okay, so Gwen's got to go. You got that? She's out. Vote for her and you're third done with your debt to me."

"Yes ma'am." You smirk, brushing by her and stalking off back to your cabin to put away your things.

Heather watches, hands on her hips and her own smirk on her lips. You might just be useful out of this bunch of losers. Not quite a diamond in the rough, but... better, at least. For sure. "Hm."

Mal:

"Oh- Mike!" You exclaim excitedly as soon as you see the lanky, dark haired boy. What luck!!

But then he slowly turns around; A dark, sinister grin on his face and hair over one eye. And your heart immediately drops.

This is not Mike. Neither is it Chester, Svetlana, Vito or Manitoba- any of which would have been just fine alternatives for this moment.

This has to be fucking Mal. You've met him before, and absolutely nevermind on the luck front.

"Nope." Yep- the grizzly, deep voice that responds to you can belong to no one other then Mike's chaotic evil alter. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. You continue to chant curses in your head as he turns around fully and comes forward, looking up with evil glinting in his eyes at you like a twisted Flynn Rider to your Rapunzel.

The kind that makes you rather stay inside your tower- its safer here then out there with him. You don't go out to meet the rabid pit bull!!

"Ummm, nevermind! Go about your business, I'm fine here. See ya!"

"Oh no. What'd you want from little Mikey?" He asks, crossing his arms and tilting his head to the side, cruelly inquisitive. You chew on your bottom lip. Damn it; You've peaked his interest. Fuck.

"Um... " The sound comes out quiet and insure as you look down at the grass before his feet instead of his face. You're so nervous. "Well, I... I forgot my towel before I took my shower, and uh... I was just gonna ask him if he could go get me one."

For a moment, he's silent. Your gaze flickers up to his face to see an utterly wolfish look on his face, eyes gleaming with mischief before averting your eyes again to the grass.

Then a loud puff of hard, unpleasant laughter escapes him. He doubles over, holding his stomach as he guffaws at your embarrassing situation. You roll your eyes and cross your arms.

"Oh shut up," You snap, bravely- making him cut off his laughter immediately and look at you. You dare to fucking talk to him like that? "Come on, go get me a towel, please!! I'll owe you one."

After a moment, he stands up straight again and crosses his arms. Yes, he could do something horrible to you right now to teach you not to talk back to him; but it looks like you're going to struggle without his help. All he has to do is watch! "Hmm, nope!"

"Come on!"

"Not gonna happen."

"Ugh." You groan, leaving the window and Mal and plopping down on a bench. Fucking bastard.

This is so awkward. Especially since you know he's still out there!! And he could send someone in at any time.

... Minutes later, and you're still dripping wet but now freezing fricken cold, a towel is flung in through the still open window and lands on the wet floor near your feet. Your eyebrows fly up your forehead, as you look from it in surprise and to the window.

Mal's voice calls through it. "There! Its no fun if you just sit and bear your punishment." Huff. You can just imagine the cute boy - the look works for Mike, but is just very odd on Mal, - crossing his arms and setting his jaw, or even pouting. His voice just sound sooo frustrated. "I'll get you another time, anyway. Everyone will go down, eventually."

"Oh... mhm, oh sure." I mean, I can at least listen to his evil babble since he got me a towel, you think as you start drying yourself down and getting dressed.

A moment after you've got your shirt on, the door is kicked open and Mal stands on the threshold, making you jump. "Jesus christ!- "

"Kiss thank you?"

"Get outta here!" Absolutely not!

Scott:

Peering out from the window, you nearly miss the boy leant up against the cabin beneath you, in fact you would have- if it weren't for his bright orange hair. You gasp, unintentionally getting his attention and smiling brightly when he looks up to find you. "Scott!"

A confused, yet somehow still evil expression paints his face. "Y/N?? What are you doing?"

"Well farm-boy, how do you feel about giving a lady a hand??"

Scott snorts, getting off the wall and stepping back to see you properly. "Lady? I don't see any lady here."

Oh- Bastard. You look back into the bathroom before disappearing from the window for a moment before returning, and promptly clobbering him with an empty shampoo bottle. "You see her now!?"

"Ugh... yeah." He grumbles more malleably now, much more open to suggestion as he rubs his forehead. "Sure, now I see her... ow."

Now you feel a little bad. He looks so pitiful when he's in pain... and yes he's a rat but... its still not okay to hurt someone. You aren't Chris. And also you're getting colder and colder as the water drips unimpeded down your skin and maybe its making you soft. "Ohh... okay, I'm sorry."

He glances up at you, surprised at your apology. "Ahh, no problem, I guess... " Did someone just apologise for whacking him on this show? He crosses his arms, raising a curious look to your disembodied head. "Uhh, what'd you need a hand, with?"

"I... kinda... forgot a towel... could you please go get one for me??"

For a moment you watch his eyes narrow and a wicked grin flicker at the corners of his mouth and get anxious that he's going to ask for something in return- before he rolls his eyes and just shrugs, turning and heading off to the cabin. "Yeah, sure, whatever. Be right back- try not to gather too much attention, haha."

As he walks off, you duck under the window again, sighing in so much relief. "Thanks, Scott!"

~

When he returns, you're waiting at the door and crack it open just enough to get the towel from him immediately- which you quickly wrap around yourself comfortably and sigh. "Thank you so much!"

"Hm. No problem." He huffs, wondering why the hell he did this for you anyway and crossing his arms again.

From inside, you carefully ask: "Are you gonna get weird if I hug you now?"

Immediately Scott's ears go bright red and he quickly loses every little bit of cool-guy vibe from a moment ago. "I-In your towel?? N-No!! I mean- yes!" He rubs the back of his neck, looking away from the door like its you, or he'll accidentally spontaneously develop x-ray vision and damnit, he's a gentleman. "I mean... " Or at least he tries to be.

Grinning, because Scott's unexpectedly cute now that you've flustered him, you quickly open the door, hug him quick, then close the door again and shout 'BYE'.

[tooti-fruiti]

THE BAD GUY [CHAPTER THREE]

The Awake-a-thon

As you were sleeping, having a nice dream, you suddenly heard an air horn go off and you screamed.

"Fuck! What the hell?!"

"Did Chris do that?" Katie asked.

"Probably." Sadie said.

All the girls got up and got dressed and walked outside with everyone else.

"Morning!" Chris said. "Hope you slept well."

"Hi Chris. You really buff in those shorts." Heather said.

"I know." He said as he winked at her.

"Now, I hope you're all ready. Because you're next challenge begins in one minute!"

"Oh excuse me! I don't think that's enough time for breakfast!"

"Oh, you'll get breakfast Owen." Chris said. "Right after you run 20 kilometers around the lake!"

"Oh so you're funny now?!" Eva yelled as she ran up to hit Chris, but then DJ held her back. "You know what I think would be funny?!"

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms as Courtney tried to calm her down.

"You're enjoying this aren't you?!"

"A little. You have thirty seconds!"

•

Video Diary-Number 3-(Y/n)

Okay, seriously. Eva is starting to annoy me.

There's no reason to be so angry all the time. And what was she thinking?

Did she really just try to punch Chris?

She would have probably been kicked off if DJ didn't hold her back.

•

You all got into a line to start running as Chris started to count down.

Once he said go. Most of you started running, while the others walked.

After you got to the lodge, you saw Duncan, DJ, Geoff, Eva, Justin, and Beth already there.

You sat down beside Duncan and groaned.

"Tired?"

You nodded.

"Same."

After he said that, a lot of other campers rushed in.

"Clear a table, stat!" Owen said as he carried in Noah.

Leshawna dropped to her knees exhausted. "We made it..."

Then the last person arrived, which was Harold.

"What took you so long?!" Courtney said. "We just lost the challenge!"

"I think I'm having heart palpations." He wheezed.

"Fucking loser." Duncan mumbled and made you giggle.

"Wait, if he lost. That means we won the challenge!" Gwen said.

The other team started cheering before Chris stopped them.

"Woah woah, that wasn't the challenge!" He said.

"What did he say?" Gwen asked.

"Who's hungry?" Chris asked as he pulled back a curtain to reveal a buffet of food.

•

Video Diary-Number 4-(Y/n)

The buffet looked absolutely amazing.

There was turkey, pie and cake. And pizza and soda.

It was much better than the grey slop we've been eating for the past few days.

•

After you all ate the food, you groaned and moaned from over eating.

"Okay Campers." Chris said into a megaphone as he stood on the table.

"Time for part two of your challenge!"

"I thought eating was the second part..." Owen said.

"What more do you want from us?" Gwen asked.

"Weird goth girl is right." Heather said as she rubbed her stomach. "Haven't we been through enough?"

"Um, let me think about that....no!"

"It's time for...the awake-a-thon!"

"The what-a-thon?" You asked.

"Don't worry! This is an easy one! The team with the last camper standing wins the challenge!"

"So, what you're saying is the 20k run and the turkey eating frenzy, were all part of your evil plan to make it harder for us to stay awake?"

"That's right Gwen!" Chris said.

"...man he's good."

"Move move move!" He said as you all walked out of the cabin.

•

About twelve hours later, all of you were still wide awake.

"Sun's setting." Duncan said.

"Yeah.." You said as you took in a deep breath.

"So what were you in juvie for?" You asked.

Duncan smirked. "I ain't telling you that."

Suddenly, Tyler screamed and you jumped back to see what he was looking at.

He was staring at a sleeping Katie and Sadie.

"Dude what was that?" Duncan asked.

"I uh...saw a bee?"

You and Duncan gave each other a look before Chris came over.

"Congratulations campers, we're at the 12 hour mark! And since the sun is starting to set...time to take things up a notch!"

Chef walked out in a lamb costume carrying a bunch of books.

You, Duncan, Geoff, Trent, and Bridgette all started to laugh.

"Fairytails!" Chris said once you all stopped laughing.

You leaned over to Duncan and whispered. "We should get Chef a little bell to hang around his neck."

He snickered. "Totally."

You looked over at the other team to see who was asleep and saw (Ex/n) wave at you.

You rolled your eyes and looked away.

Chris picked up a book and cleared his throat.

"Once...upon a time...there was...inside this...boring kingdom...a boring village...and inside this...boring, sleepy...village...filled with...very boring children...who did very...boring things..."

You threw your head back and groaned.

"How many more of these is he gonna read?"

Duncan turned his head and saw Courtney walking in place.

"What is she doing?"

You lifted your head and stared at Courtney as well.

"Hey Courtney? What are you-"

"SHHH! Don't...make...me...lose...my...focus..." She panted.

You gave Duncan a look. "She's crazy."

You yawned and started to get drousy.

While Chris was in the middle of reading the second fairytail, you fell asleep.

•

"Aw gross it worked! Dude pissed himself!"

You woke up to Duncan saying that and you sat up and rubbed your head.

"Morning sleepyhead." Duncan said. "Check this out."

He gestured over to Harold who just woke up and realized he peed his pants.

You and Duncan started to snicker as Chris walked out with a coffee.

"What is the matter with you people? Fall asleep already!"

Gwen crawled over to him and tugged at his shirt. "You gotta hook me up man, I'll even eat the grinds...anything!"

Chris chuckled. "Alright! Gwen, Trent, Heather, Duncan, and Eva. You five stay with me. The rest of you are free to leave. And go take showers, you stink!"

You waved goodbye to Duncan and walked with Bridgette to the bathroom.

"Do you know what time it is?"

"I think it's 12." She said.

"Thank you." You yawned before going into the bathroom.

•

After you freshened up, you went to grab some food and came back to the Bass Cabin to see stuff being thrown out the door.

"What's going on?" You asked.

Eva poked her head out the window. "NO ONE IS GOING ANYWHERE UNTIL I GET MY FUCKING MP3 PLAYER BACK, BECAUSE I KNOW ONE OF YOU STOLE IT! I NEED MY MUSIC!"

Then she threw a book out the window and went back inside.

"That's what's going on." Geoff said.

"Hey guys." Heather said as she walked up to the group.

"Wow, what a mess."

"Someone stole Eva's mp3 player and she's throwing a fit until she finds it." Country said.

"Oh, you don't mean this, do you? I was wondering who it belonged to." She asked as she took the mp3 player from her pocket.

"I found it by the campfire pit, you must've dropped it." She said as Eva stuck her head out the door then rushed over and grabbed it.

"Oh thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

"Sure thing." Heather said as she walked off.

Eva then turned around with an awkward smile.

"So, I guess no one took it after all."

You all glared at her.

"Okay...maybe I overreacted a little..." She said before laughing awkwardly.

•

Video Diary-Number 5-(Y/n)

...

Yeah I definitely know who I'm voting for tonight.

•

During the campfire ceremony, you sat around the fire as Chris walked out with a plate of marshmallows.

"You all cast your votes and made your decisions. There are only nine marshmallows on this plate."

"When I call your name. Come up and claim a marshmallow. The camper who does not receive a marshmallow must immediately grab their belongings, return to the dock of shame, catch the boat of losers, and leave the island. And you can never come back. Ever."

"The first marshmallow goes to Duncan."

You smiled as Duncan got up to claim his marshmallow.

"Bridgette, Courtney, Katie and Sadie, Tyler, DJ, (Y/n), Geoff."

"Campers, there is only one marshmallow left on this plate. And this marshmallow goes to..."

...

"Harold."

Eva gasped.

Harold sighed happily and took his marshmallow.

"Eva. The dock of shame awaits."

Eva growled and stood up. "Nice. Really nice. Who needs this stupid fucking TV show ANYWAY?!"

As she walked past Chris, she angrily kicked him in the leg.

"Ow! Fuck!"

He then clutched his leg and looked at the rest of you.

"You're all safe tonight."

You all put your marshmallows on sticks and held them over the fire.

"To the Killer Bass." You said.

"And to not ending up here again, the next time we have a challenge!" Courtney added.

[Hope you enjoyed. Stay tuned for more and have a good day]

<-Chapter Two

[ezgithechaotic]

pushing up the dasies . peter parker

pairing: Peter Parker x Reader, Peter Parker x female reader

summary: Someone has been stealing Y\N's flowers, and she is determined to find who it is.

warnings: she\ her pronouns (don't know if this one's a warning), mention of the death of a loved person, graveyard

author note: I’m sorry in advance if I have any fault. English is not my first language. But please let me know if you see anthing that doesn’t seem right. I really have no idea if this is good or trash. I’m getting mixed signs. So, please leave a comment about what you think, love you.

As a comic book nerd, I personally love both Andrew and Tom's Spiderman. Just thought this story fit Andrew's more, but feel free to imagine Peter as your favorite! 

masterlist 

The first time you realized a few flowers were picked from your garden, you didn't think much into it. The kids around the neighborhood liked to play hide and seek around your garden. You thought; it should be Thompson's girl, she likes flowers. It wasn't something that never happened before. You would simply plant new ones, it was no big deal, you could never get angry at children. But after some time, you started to realize the pattern. Every month on the same day, you found a handful of your daisies gone upon returning from your part-time job. Mrs. Thompson swore her daughter would never do such a thing without asking, and after the third time, you were sure somebody was stealing your flowers. Maybe it was that gruff man across the street that never got along with people. But you had a feeling if he had to do anything with your flowers, it would only be blowing them up. 

Peter always wondered whom the pretty flowers and house belong to. The post box just outside the garden said Y\L\N, and he had always imagined an old sweet woman lived in the white-painted house with a green door. And Peter hoped he didn't make the poor woman too sad with missing flowers. Boy, was he wrong. You weren't old, and you were furious and determined to find the person who stole your beautiful daisies. 

Your friends always wondered why you liked living in such an old neighborhood. The house was one of the few things your mother left you after she died, along with the considerable amount of money in your bank account. You could always sell the house, find an apartment downtown, so you can be closer to school that's what your friends told you every time you had them over. But you loved the house. You loved that the house held so many memories of your childhood, especially your garden. Even though your mother was a busy woman, she had always made time for you and her flowers. At the age of six, growing flowers with your mother quickly became one of your favorite pastimes. That week you did what everyone would do, changed your shift with Mary Jane to catch the flower thief. 

So, no, selling the house or letting strangers steal your lovely flowers was not one of the many choices. 

Now, Peter Parker was many things, but not a thief. Well, it depended on what you would call stealing. Surely picking a few flowers from a random garden couldn't count as stealing. And God knows he wouldn't do it if he weren't penniless. Trying to survive college and paying for an apartment didn't leave him much. The money The Daily Bugle paid was shit. He had been selling photos for the damn newspaper since high school, but it was no use, Peter had to find a job that paid more than The Daily Bugle. And there was no way he was going to ask Aunt May for money, even though she would be happy to give him some. But that was another day's concern, for now, the only thing he needed to do was be quick. Because he knew if you found out that it was him who was stealing, sorry picking, your flowers he sure wouldn't be able to swing away this time. 

Peter honestly felt guilty about your flowers, they were lovely. And he knew this was a safe neighborhood, so he had no way of paying you back with saving you. He had been visiting Gwen every month since her death. It was one of the few things he could keep up with after he graduated high school. Daisies were Gwen's favorite. Peter knew he could easily find another place to pick the flowers, but he believed that there was something magical about the garden. He felt so much love around the house. Maybe it was a silly thing, but Peter thought Gwen would have loved that garden. 

Y\N had been sitting on her porch, hiding behind the dark blue armchair, actually too anxious to face the flower thief. You felt childish after some time. It was just a few daisies, right? There was no need to act like a crazy woman. As you were getting ready to go back inside, you saw him. He had an average height, brown messy hair. He was wearing a black t-shirt and an unbuttoned baby blue shirt with a greenish-brown jacket. Y\N's anger turned back the minute she saw him touch the flowers. 

"You, flower thief!" 

A moment before, Peter felt like his whole body was on edge as if bells were ringing in his brain. But he was already late to realize she had been waiting for him and there was no way to run, he wasn't wearing his suit. Where were the damn spider-senses when he needed them the most? So, he just stood there, speechless, his hand hanged above the daisies. She was pretty, as pretty as the flowers before him. Guilt heating his face, Peter couldn't help but stare at you with his eyes wide open like a dumbstruck idiot. He felt like his lunch was climbing its way back up. 

You were now, standing few steps away from him. "You've been stealing my flowers for months!" 

Peter held his hands up in defense. "Look, I can explain." 

Y\N put her hands on her hips, one eyebrow raised, waiting for an explanation. Your heart beating like crazy. Even though it was still bright and you were in the middle of a road, he was a man. A man taller and despite looking skinny, stronger than you. But you hold your face as still as you could.  

"Go on then." 

Peter couldn't find the words to explain. What was he going to say? Sorry, I thought my dead girlfriend would love your flowers so, I've been stealing them, I hope you don't try to kill me. No fucking way. His mouth opened and closed few times, making you sigh. You realized the boy wasn't going to give you any answer. He was probably taking them to his girlfriend or boyfriend. 

"Are they pretty?" you asked, dropping your hands. Peter, very confused, kept on staring at her. You rolled your eyes at how silly he was. "The person you're taking my flowers to." Something at the back of your mind hoped he would say they were for his mother. Now that you were closer you could see the sweet hazel color of his eyes. 

"Um-" His hand went up, scratching his neck. "She is." 

She was.

He shuffled through his pants pockets. "I have a photo-" 

"No." You stopped him. "I want to see if she is pretty enough for my daisies." 

"What?" Peter tried to grasp his head around the idea. 

"I want to see her and tell her that her boyfriend is a thief. C'mon." 

"I don't think-"  Peter was getting anxious, now. How was he supposed to tell you that her girlfriend was dead? 

"Of course you don't think." You started walking. "C'mon, now. Take the flowers." 

Peter didn't know what to do so he went with it. What could go wrong, right? 

"I'm sorry," Peter said after some time. "I have no excuse for what I did." 

His head hung low, watching his steps as he walked. He knew he would stutter if he looked at your face. Peter had a habit of getting tongue-tied around pretty girls. And, well, you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Mind you, he wasn't even thinking about Gwen anymore, which made him feel kinda guilty. 

"It's okay." You had your hands in the pockets of your jacket. "My life's been boring lately. You were the only exciting thing, I guess." 

"I'm sure you have more exciting things than me." Peter still didn't look at you but you could see him smiling.

"It's Y\N, by the way." You kept your eyes on him. "If you wanted to know the name of a woman you constantly robbed."

He laughed. "Peter, Peter Parker." His eyes finally met yours. It was ridiculous, how easy it was to just look at his face and feel safe even though he was a stranger. His smile grew even more. It was almost contagious, his smile. He had something about him that made you wanted to scream and purr like a cat at the same time. You felt yourself getting overwhelmed, he was making you weak at the knees. So, you pulled your eyes away from him. 

Pull yourself together, woman! He has a girlfriend.

You were too distracted to realize where was Peter taking you until you arrived. It was the same route you took whenever you felt like talking to your mother. Peter and you were standing just outside of the graveyard. Your head whipped around, turning to Peter. He had a soft smile on his face. 

"Peter, I-" 

"It's okay." 

"No, It's not okay." You took a deep breath, pressing your palms into your eyes. "I'm such a dick." 

"No, you were just mad at me." 

You slouched your shoulder, didn't know what to say. What would even one say in this situation?

"C'mon." Peter's warm hand was gently holding your arm, now. "Let's go see her." 

You didn't talk until you arrived at the tombstone. Peter put the flowers in front of it. 

"Daisies were her favorite." He had a sweet look on his face, he put his hands back into his pockets. 

"They were my mother's favorite, too." You murmured, but Peter could hear you perfectly. "I think that's why I overreacted you picking the flowers. I wasn't thinking." 

"Oh, It's not stealing anymore, then?" He teased. "It's okay, honestly. She would've liked you. You have that fire in you like you could make the world better just with a gesture of your hand. She liked that kind of people, that can light the room with their smile." 

"I think I would've liked her, too." You said, your eyes on the tombstone.

Gwen Stacy. 

Her name was familiar to you. You didn't know where, but you were sure you had heard before. Still, you didn't ask Peter anything, assumed he wouldn't be comfortable talking about it. You didn't say anything until you were out of the graveyard. You knew you would come back tomorrow to see your mother, but with Gwen on your mind. 

The more you looked at his face the more you could see him. Peter wore his heart on his sleeve, he was easy to read. "You blame yourself." You said, nodding your head slowly. You smiled after seeing the face he made. "It's okay, I know the feeling." 

"Your mother?"

"Yeah." 

Neither of you talked for a long time. Peter could tell you weren't ready to talk about it. He knew it wasn't easy to open up, especially to a stranger. It'd been years since he talked about Gwen, so, he knew the feeling, too. 

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. It was a message from Mary Jane.  "Just arrived home, you owe me." 

"That's it!" You exclaimed, remembering your talk with Mary Jane. "That's how I knew her name!" 

Peter, looking very confused, asked you. "What?" 

"Gwen, her name was very familiar." Pocketing your phone again. "I have a friend, Mary Jane, who went to the same high school with Gwen. I've seen her in the yearbook. That's where I recognized her name." 

"You know MJ?"

"Oh, yeah," you laughed. "We met in Brooklyn, probably four years ago. I think it was very late, some guy was trying to get her number even though she said no, like five times. And I hadn't had the best day of my life. So, I punched the guy and told him to leave her alone. We have been friends ever since."

Peter was amazed. He didn't know how much cooler you could get. 

"You know her, too?" 

"Yeah, We've been friends for a long time. My aunt kinda tried to set us up."  

You laughed. Peter and Mary Jane seemed like two opposite characters. You would never imagine them together. But again, maybe Peter's pretty face was affecting your judgment. You didn't know. He made your mind foggy. At last, you found yourselves at your front yard again. Your eyes wandered over the empty spots that daisies left. 

"Would you like to get a coffee sometime?" Peter was leaning against white fences that surrounded your garden. He had that sweet smile on his face again. "So I can pay you back for daisies."

You bit your lips to stop yourself from smiling so much. "Gwen was pretty enough for them. You can have some once a month when I'm not looking." Peter was feeling like you were about to turn him down. Both of you knew this wasn't really about the damn flowers. But again, Peter was every so often wrong about these kinds of things. "But you know, maybe not Saturdays. I'm usually free for a cup of coffee on Saturdays." Peter was ready to feed himself with only pasta for a week if it meant he would get to see you again. 

You could visibly see Peter's eyes liting up. "Just one cup?" 

You shrugged. "Tea is fine, too." 

"I didn't know MJ had friends like you." He said, intensely watching your every move. 

"Like me?" You were so sure something bad was coming, he was simply too good to be true.

"You know, this beautiful. If I had known, I would have visited her more."

"Wow, you are hiding a monster under that pretty face, don't you?"  

[morganaspendragonss]

Hello 🥰 Whump fic idea :)TK lands in the hospital, again. But this time they're serious, serious injuries, he is under a respirator, he is not breathing on his own, the doctors do not give him much chance of survival, they even advise it would be the best to prepare for the worst and say goodbye, just in case. Owen calls Gwen, she's arriving the same day with Enzo and baby junior. When in the hospital they find out how it happened and that it's mostly Owen's fault (I don't know, for example, he allowed Tk to enter the unstable building to tend to the patient, or whether he made someone else angry and this person unloaded it on TK, or Owen decided to do something reckless and TK wanted to save him or it is The arson situation from 2x12 so Gwyn arrives pregnant, without a baby of course), Gwyn slaps him twice and Enzo punches him right in the nose, breaking it, for risking TK's life. Fortunately, despite the bad prognosis, TK wakes up, but after he took his sweet time being in a coma.

holly's august extravaganza day 3: the meetings for those in my wake

thanks for the prompt! i really loved writing this one though i need to confess to toning it down a little? idk but with the way it was going it didn't feel right to have enzo break owen's nose. i hope you still like it!

ao3 | 3.3k | major character injury, coma, angst with a happy ending

For years after the divorce, Gwyn came to learn that any call from Owen was almost certainly bad news.

TK got in a fight.

TK overdosed.

TK was shot, he’s in the hospital.

Over and over, until the first words out of her mouth whenever Owen’s name flashed up on her screen were, What’s wrong?

Things have been better in the three years since her time in Texas. Gwyn suspects it’s partly TK’s influence—he’s been more than enthusiastic in getting to know his baby brother, and Isaac has latched onto TK despite only seeing him in person every few months or so. But they’ve talked as well, she and Owen, and they really are doing better. They’re almost like friends now, which is why Gwyn thinks nothing of it when he calls just after she’s put Isaac to bed for the night.

“Owen, hey,” she greets. “What’s up?”

The silence she’s answered with is the first sign that something’s wrong.

The sob that follows is the second.

“Owen?” Gwyn repeats, louder this time, her heart leaping into her throat. She sits down heavily on the sofa as she waits for Owen’s response; there’s only one thing that could make him cry like that, and tears prick at Gwyn’s eyes as she imagines TK hurt again, or worse.

“Gwyn,” Owen eventually manages to gasp out, voice wrecked. “Gwyn, it’s TK. He’s… You need to get here. You need— It’s not like last time. They don’t know if he’s going to— They don’t think— It’s bad. Really bad.”

Owen breaks off, crying harder, and Gwyn claps a hand to her mouth. She remembers well how devastated he’d been when he called about the gunshot, but this a whole other level. Gwyn’s head spins with the potential implications of that and she finds her breath coming in sharp gasps, but it’s Owen’s next words that knocks it from her altogether.

“They think we should say goodbye.”

The rest of the story comes haltingly—someone got angry after his son couldn’t be saved on a call, he came to the firehouse, he attacked TK—but Gwyn barely hears it. Her boy is in the hospital again and this time…this time he might not be coming home. She can’t understand it; she spoke to him just two days ago, they made plans for he and Carlos to visit for Isaac’s birthday, and now…

“I’m so sorry, Gwyn,” Owen finishes. She feels a flash of that age-old urge to scream at him, but she fights it off, not wanting to wake Isaac.

“I’ll be on the first flight over,” she promises, then ends the call, sliding off the couch to the floor. Her phone falls from limp fingers and harsh sobs tear from her throat, muffled by the press of her fist against her mouth.

Enzo finds her there an hour later and immediately takes her in his arms, not complaining about her tears soaking his shirt. When she tells him what happened, he insists on joining her, and Gwyn allows herself to take that shred of comfort and run with it.

She thinks it’s the only comfort she’s likely to get right now.

The next flight isn’t until morning, so Gwyn spends a sleepless night packing and unpacking their suitcases and making phone calls with the firm and her clients to cancel everything for the foreseeable. She has the brief, terrible thought about whether she should pack funeral attire, which almost sends her into a panic attack as reality hits her all over again.

Enzo saves her from it, gently guiding her to bed, but not before she packs the clothes anyway.

Isaac seems to pick up on her mood when they’re hurrying out of the house, remaining mostly quiet aside from the odd question about where they’re going. He perks up considerably when he finds out they’re heading to Austin, babbling about seeing TK, and Gwyn has to blink hard to keep from crying again. Enzo reaches over to take her hand, and he barely lets go until they’re landing in Austin.

*

The entrance to the ICU looms before her, and Gwyn feels stuck. There had been a part of her, still, that had hoped to find TK miraculously awake and on the mend, like the last time she had made this trip. She doesn’t want to believe that he’s here, hurt, maybe dying.

But he is, and she’s forcefully reminded of that fact when a kind-looking nurse approaches her hesitantly.

“Ma’am? Can I help you?”

Gwyn blinks at her, her brain taking a moment to catch up. “I, um. I’m here to see my son. TK Strand.” She pauses, then shakes her head, cursing herself internally. “Tyler Kennedy Strand.”

The nurse’s entire demeanour changes, a sympathetic smile taking over her face. “This way.” She leads Gwyn through the ICU, then points at a door near the end of the corridor. “Tyler’s room is just there. I promise, we’re doing everything we can for him.”

Gwyn nods absently, her gaze stuck on the door the nurse had indicated. She walks forward slowly, the room seeming to get further and further away until, suddenly, she’s standing on the threshold, and she sees her son.

TK is barely visible, his face half-obscured by the ventilator, half by bruises, and heavy gauze covers his forehead. His arms, resting limply at his sides, are littered with scrapes, and if Gwyn squints, she can just about make out more bandages peeking out from under the hospital gown.

She’d thought that seeing him would make it all real, but she feels separate from everything somehow, only one thought going through her mind on repeat.

This is not my son.

A quiet whisper draws her attention to the figure sitting at TK’s side. Gwyn has to suppress a gasp as she takes in Carlos’s appearance; she hasn’t seen him in person since the wedding last year, and his pale face and red-rimmed eyes cut a stark contrast to that day. He hasn’t noticed her yet, wholly fixated on TK, one hand gently stroking the tufts of hair poking out above the bandage. His lips move and Gwyn knows she should walk away, but instead she finds herself leaning closer, straining to hear Carlos’s words.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he’s saying. “I know you’re fighting and I know you’re going to try as hard as you can to come back to us—believe me, Ty, I am praying every day to see those pretty green eyes of yours open again. But I—I want you to know that it’s okay if you can’t. If it gets too hard, if you need to let go, you can. I already miss you like crazy and I really, really, don’t want to live the rest of my life without you, but the thing I can’t stand more than that is the idea of you suffering.

“Come back if you can, but if someday you find you can’t, remember that I love you and we’ll be okay. I promise.”

Carlos sniffs and ducks his head to place a gentle, lingering kiss on TK’s cheekbone. It’s such a tender, intimate moment, but it quickly shatters when Carlos looks up and spots her, his eyes going wide. “Gwyn. I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were there.”

She waves him off, willing herself to finally step into the room. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I should have said something, but I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Carlos nods, giving her a small, sad smile, which Gwyn does her best to return. She pulls up another chair and sinks into it, reaching out to take TK’s hand. She’s startled by the coolness of his skin, and more tears burn in the back of her eyes.

“What did the doctors say?” she asks, clearing her throat and twisting her body towards Carlos, though her eyes never leave TK.

“That it was a miracle he made it through surgery,” Carlos says, sighing wearily. “Eight stab wounds, too much blood loss, damage to his organs, broken ribs—that’s all bad enough, but they’re most worried about his brain. He took at least two blows to the head, and add that to the fact he wasn’t breathing for a good few minutes… They keep saying not to speculate, but we all know the odds here.”

Carlos’s voice breaks and Gwyn reaches out to comfort him, feeling sick to her stomach at the revelation. Why anyone would do this to her boy, she can’t comprehend; she finds herself both wanting answers and feeling unable to take any more.

Owen chooses that moment to appear in the doorway, looking every bit as wrecked as he sounded on the phone. “Gwyn,” he says roughly. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Carlos moves as if to give them privacy, but Gwyn shakes her head at him, cutting off his protests before he can even get them out. “You stay with him, Carlos,” she tells him. “We’ll talk in the hall.”

They head to a quiet spot not too far from TK’s room, and Gwyn turns to face Owen, holding her arms. “What the hell happened, Owen? Why is our son lying in there, not even breathing on his own?”

A flicker of a frown crosses Owen’s face. “I told you—”

“No, you didn’t.” Gwyn clenches her jaw, staring him down. “You said he’d been attacked, not that some maniac had used him as their personal punching bag.”

A few more seconds pass before Owen relents, sighing. “There was a call,” he starts, voice heavy with sorrow. “A car accident; dad and his kid were trapped inside. We got the dad out but the son was stuck pretty good. It took a long time to free him and by then it was too late—EMS did their best, but he was gone.

“The dad went ballistic, screaming at all of us, but especially at TK. We don’t really know why, but it was probably a convenience thing; TK had been the one to break the news, he was the closest person—the guy wasn’t exactly thinking clearly. He threatened him, tried to hit him—the cops had to arrest him eventually, but you know TK. He refused to press charges, said that the dad was just in shock and that he understood.”

Gwyn smiles a little at that; her son has always been too forgiving for his own good. It’s never come back to hurt him this badly before, though.

Owen pauses, throat bobbing as he seems to work up to the next part. His voice is quiet, and he seems reluctant to meet Gwyn’s eyes. “He showed up at the firehouse a week later—the dad, I mean. He said he wanted to apologise and, I swear, Gwyn, he really did seem genuine. None of us wanted to let him near TK, but ultimately it was TK’s decision. They went round the side of the house to talk; when neither of them came back after twenty minutes, we went looking.

“By that time, the guy was gone, and TK was…” He stops and shakes his head, swallowing hard. “He could barely breathe. Tommy and Nancy did what they could and they got him here quickly, but we have no idea how long he’d been like that before we found him.”

Gwyn’s head snaps up, a white-hot anger flashing through her. “I can’t believe you,” she hisses. “You left our son alone with a man who had already threatened him for twenty minutes, Owen.”

Owen frowns. “I told you, he seemed genuine. And TK—”

Gwyn can’t help it; she slaps him. “Don’t you dare,” she grounds out, crowding into Owen’s space. “Don’t you dare act like this was his fault.”

“I wasn’t—”

Her arm moves on instinct, but before she can connect again, a hand closes around her wrist. Gwyn turns to find Enzo staring at her, brow wrinkled in confusion.

“Gwyn, what’s going on?”

She shakes her head and takes a step back from Owen, freeing herself from Enzo’s grasp. “What’s going on,” she responds tightly, “is that he is part of the reason why my son is half-dead in there.”

Enzo gapes between them. “What?”

She ignores the question, needing to focus on anything else to keep her anger from overwhelming her. “What are you doing here anyway? Where’s Isaac?”

“He’s with Grace and Judd, they offered to babysit so I could come here. What—”

“Hang on,” Owen interrupts. “What is he doing here? I figured he’d stay in New York with the kid.”

“Isaac is TK’s brother, Owen,” Gwyn says, turning on him again. “And Enzo has just as much right to be here as any of us; he was more of a father to TK than you were sometimes.”

Owen’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Him? You’re joking, right?”

Gwyn isn’t sure what happens next, who starts it, but soon they’re all yelling, insults and accusations flying around the ward. There’s a furious nurse heading their way, but before she can say anything, another voice cuts through the argument, quiet and trembling but still somehow powerful.

“Get out,” Carlos says. “All of you.”

They all turn to him, Gwyn’s lips parting in shock. Owen takes a step towards him, holding his hands out in a gesture that’s probably meant to be pacifying.

“Carlos—”

“I mean it, Owen,” he snaps, harsher than Gwyn has ever heard him before. “You all screaming at each other is the last thing any of us needs, least of all TK. The only person to blame in all this is the guy who attacked him, and he’s already in custody; he’ll get what’s coming to him. If TK—” Carlos breaks off, clenching his jaw and staring down at the floor. He closes his eyes for a moment, before breathing out shakily and looking back up at them. “If anything changes, I’ll call you, I promise. But you can’t be here right now. Go, please.”

Carlos doesn’t wait for a response before turning on his heel and going back into TK’s room, reassuming his position next to the bed. Gwyn watches him for a second, nodding when Enzo pointedly takes her elbow.

“He’s right,” she says, directed at Owen. “We should go.”

Owen glares, gearing up to argue again, but he must think better of it as he suddenly slumps, all the energy draining out of him. “Right,” he mutters. “Right.”

They file slowly out of the ICU, closely watched by the hard eyes of the nurse from before. Gwyn spares one last look before forcing herself forwards; if getting here was hard, walking away is a thousand times worse.

*

Three weeks pass with no change and, crucially, no improvement. Gwyn spends more time with Carlos than she ever has before, and she hates that it’s her son being comatose that has brought the two of them closer. A tentative peace exists between her and Owen and she knows—truly, she knows—that the attack wasn’t his fault, that there was nothing that could have stopped it.

But she can’t help but be angry that, once again, her son was seriously hurt and she wasn’t around.

She takes Isaac to see TK once, when the worst of the bruises have faded a little. She worries that he’ll be scared, and he does seem to hesitate when they reach the room; in truth, Gwyn hadn’t wanted to bring him at all, but he’d kept asking about TK and she’d found herself helpless to do anything but acquiesce.

They still haven’t told him what’s going on. No-one knows how to. All Isaac knows is that TK is a little hurt and he needs rest, and even that knowledge seems to upset him.

Once he gets used to the sight, Isaac stretches his hands out to the bed. “TK,” he says simply, looking pleadingly up at Gwyn.

She hugs him close, trying to smile for him. “TK’s asleep, sweetie,” she explains. “He needs rest.”

“When wake up?”

“I don’t know, baby. I don’t know.”

*

Three weeks pass, and the doctors start talking about options and next steps. It’s obvious what that’s code for—they want to pull the plug. They’re told to take all the time they need to discuss it but, ultimately, the decision will be Carlos’s, as TK’s husband and next of kin.

Gwyn knows what choice he’s going to make; it’s the same one she, or anyone else in his position, would make.

That doesn’t make it any easier to bear, for any of them.

Gwyn finds him in the hallway, bent over with his head in his hands. She goes over and quietly sits in the chair next to him, placing a comforting hand on his back.

There’s a long silence before Carlos sniffs and turns to her, his face the picture of devastation. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this, Gwyn,” he whispers, voice cracking. “How am I supposed to just give up on him like that?”

She shakes her head. “You’re not giving up on him, Carlos. You’re letting him go.”

“I don’t know how to do that either.”

“None of us do.”

Silence again, but this time, it’s Gwyn that breaks it first. “Listen, Carlos, I know this is hard. God knows I wish none of us were even here. But we are, and we have to do what’s best for everyone, including TK.”

“I know that,” Carlos admits. “I just don’t want to lose him.” He closes his eyes and leans into Gwyn, allowing her to wrap him in a hug. “I wish we had more time.”

Gwyn’s heart breaks all over again, and she squeezes his shaking shoulders. “We’ve got time,” she says, though she knows that’s not what he meant. “As much as you need.”

The sob she’s answered with tells her there’s not enough time in the world for Carlos to say goodbye to TK.

*

The call comes in the middle of the night. Dread pools in Gwyn’s gut as she accepts it and lifts the phone to her ear, her hands trembling.

“Owen?”

“Gwyn. TK, he—he woke up. It was only for a few seconds, but he woke up, Gwyn. The doctors said it was a miracle; they think he might actually recover.”

Gwyn gasps, a sob crawling up her throat as the news sinks in. It’s everything she’s been praying for ever since that first call, and all she can think about now is getting to TK.

“I’ll be at the hospital in fifteen,” she says. She ends the calls and raises her hands to her face, wiping away the tears beginning to fall from her eyes.

Maybe this nightmare is finally coming to an end.

*

TK is off getting tests when Gwyn arrives, but she’s finally allowed back in the room an hour later, Carlos and Owen on her heels. The ventilator has been removed, replaced by a nasal cannula, and his eyes are open—barely to slits, but Gwyn doesn’t care. TK is awake and alive, and that’s all that matters.

As soon as she’s in the chair by the bed, she reaches out for him, her touch feather-light as she strokes his cheek. “My brave boy,” she whispers wetly. “My brave, brave boy.”

TK’s head rolls on the pillow so he’s facing her and he mumbles something that’s probably meant to be a greeting, but the words jumble together and come out as gibberish.

Gwyn thinks it’s the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard.

They’ve all been briefed about the risks of brain damage and all the potential lasting consequences which could impact the rest of TK’s life. But right now, as she holds TK’s hand with Carlos on his other side and Owen at her back, Gwyn chooses to take solace in the constant rise and fall of TK’s chest and the heart monitor beeping out a steady rhythm.

There’ll be enough time for worry later; for now, her son is alive, and Gwyn can’t think of anything else that's more important.

[andilovetowrite]

Tough Love (Part 1)

Peter Parker x Enemy!Reader

Summary: Peter Parker and you have always had a tense relationship, but there was always a line that you wouldn’t pass. What happens when one day you do, and there are horrible repercussions? Will you and Peter make up, or will it be endgame for you?

Warnings: Curse words, shouting, crying, hurtful comments. Quite a lot of angst but sprinkles of fluff as well.

Here is the request it is based on!

Here is my Masterlist as well, in case you wanna check out my fanfics :)

Word Count: 1.5k

“Oh, good morning Y/N!”, Peter said in a sickly sweet voice. Turning around to look at him, you faked a smile, ignoring as your heart fluttered at the sight of the brown-haired boy.

“It was a good morning Peter”, you answered back, picking up some books from your locker as MJ and Ned made their way over to the two of you.

“Hey guys!”Ned exclaimed, leaning over to tell Peter about how they were going to spend the rest of their virgin day, while you caught up with MJ.

“So...nor you or Peter are dead, so a good morning?”, she asked, smirking. You rolled your eyes, muttering under your breath.

“Uh huh, and the day is young. You don’t know what might happen to...say, some certain annoying turds”, you said, glancing at Peter as his jaw clenched.

“Oh please, I could squash you like a bug!”, he said, flexing his arms, smirking at you. You knew Peter was Spiderman...you were the first one to find out actually. Seriously though, you wouldn’t know how many times he left his backpack open for everyone to see. One day, you had just peeked in to….um, put something in his bag, when you saw the Spiderman suit. There could have been two explanations for it. Either he was a cosplayer or he was really Spiderman.

Sadly, when you looked at him the next day and found bruises on his arms and neck...you knew he was indeed Spiderman. But even if he was a mutant-freak superhero, you didn’t mind pissing him off every now and then. And what was he going to do to you anyway? You are an Avenger as well, and everyone knew that you would win in a fight anyday…

“Really Parker? I heard your Aunt threw a banana at you and it hit you in the face. Don’t act as if you can detect whether or not I will push you off a building-”

“I’m Spiderman love”, Peter said, winking obnoxiously at you.

“And I’m Riptide!”

“Sure, and controlling water can help you in the air right?”

“-Fine, I’ll push you in the pool. Spiders can’t swim, can they?”

Peter looked shocked for a second, but then fired back. “Uh huh, and remember. Super reflexes. I heard annoying nerds can’t swim either!”

You laughed, knowing what you were going to say next was going to make him so flustered. “Please! It’ll be the only time you have gotten any girl wet!”

And it had the exact reaction you were hoping for. Peter’s face turned red as he went into a blushing, stuttery mess. You smirked, knowing you had won this round before you turned around, walking away with MJ while you heard Ned laugh in the background.

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

“I’m getting sick of it, Ned!”, MJ said, pulling Ned aside.

“What?”, he asked, too busy staring at whatever Gwen was wearing today. MJ sighed, snapping her fingers in front of him.

“Hey! Concentrate”, she said, quickly checking her phone. “We only have a couple minutes. So you and I both know Y/N and Peter are obviously in love with each other right?”

That got his attention. “What- yeah yeah. I even tried to talk to Peter about it, but he shut it down the minute I brought her up”

MJ nodded, her head deep in thought. “Y/N does the same, but she always blushes when they call each other those disgusting nicknames...and not to mention how much time she spends staring at him”

Ned agreed, as a plan started formulating in his mind. “What if...we make them talk to each other, nicely. Say, if they were stuck in a closet together?”

MJ frowned. “What about Peter and Y/N’s powers? They can easily knock down the door?”

“Web?”Ned suggested, pulling open Peter’s locker as he pulled out a small beaker with white liquid in it.

“How much time do we have?”, MJ asked, glancing at the clock.

“I think Peter said about 2 hours”

MJ smiled, looking at the empty classroom at the end of the hallway. “Well then...we are going to finally stop this petty rivalry once and for all…”

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

“Hey guys”, MJ said, pulling you and Peter. Confused, you struggled in her grip.

“MJ, where are we going?”, you asked skeptically, not knowing why she would pull you right after class...along with Peter?

“Uh, you’ll see”, she said as we entered Mr Harrison’s classroom, which was pitch black and empty. Seeing the open closet at the end, you suddenly understood what she was gonna do.

“Nuh uh!”, you said, pulling away, as Peter did the same.

“We aren’t going in there”, he said, crossing his arms as MJ sighed.

“I knew it wasn’t gonna be easy, so…”, MJ said, whistling, “I got some help”

All of a sudden, you felt the wind get knocked out of you as a body slammed into your side, pushing you into the closet with Peter. Falling in, you heard the door click shut as you and Peter were shut in darkness.

Standing up, you ran to the door, trying to open it, but it was jammed shut. “What the heck?”, you muttered as Ned laughed from outside.

“It’s Peter’s WEB!”, he yelled as MJ continued.

“You two make up and stop this stupid fight of yours, and in two hours, we will let you out!”

You sighed as Peter tried opening the door, eventually sighing and sitting down. You stared at him, and scoffed. You weren’t gonna get out for the next two hours anyway, and you did want to stop fighting with Peter at some point, so why not now?

“I’m sorry Par-Peter...I guess I have been a bit of a bitch since I met you”, you said, looking at Peter as a smile broke on his face.

“It’s fine. I haven’t been the best either-”

“Understatement”, you muttered, laughing.

“I’m sorry...seriously.” You and Peter smiled at each other, and for the first time, you could feel some type of friendship forming. But as your luck would have it, something had to go wrong…

“Yeah, I did quite a lot of dumb things. Thank god we ended that!”Peter said, making you confused.

“Wait, what did you do?”

“Uh, nothing”, he said, eyes widening as you stepped closer.

“Paker”, you said threateningly.

“Um, so one time, I may have told Mr Stark to leave you out on the mission because you went to a party the night before-”

“What the fuck?”, you asked, starting to get mad, “when was it?”

“Uh, a-about 2 weeks ago”, he said weakly.

“PETER! THAT WAS THE MISSION WHERE DAD SAID HE SAW MY MOM!”, you yelled, thinking that your father knew that was going to happen, so he left you behind. But in reality, you could’ve met her! You could have met your mother!

“I’m sorry-”

“WE KEPT THE RIVALRY TO THE SCHOOL PARKER! NOT TO FAMILY”, you shouted, anger bubbling through you. Expecting Peter to apologize, you were shocked when he chuckled humorlessly.

“Oh please! Since when do you care about that-”

“Oh no”, MJ muttered, staring at Ned as you and Peter began arguing.

“No, you shut up! Why the heck can’t you just stay out of my face!”, you yelled at Peter from inside the closet.

“OH! Well maybe because you insist on coming into everyone’s life! Can’t you just mind your damn business?!”Peter yelled back, a small twinge of guilt eating it’s way into his mind when he saw you take a step back.

“What the hell is your problem?”, you shouted, pushing him.

“You are my damn problem! You are the most insufferable person on this planet!”

“Don’t you dare say that! I was the reason you ever got this job Parker. No one even cares about you!”

“Mr Stark-”

“He doesn’t care either. WHy do you think my dad would even be on Youtube!? And just by chance come across a stupid video of you?!”

“Th-that’s not true, he wouldn’t lie-”

You laughed cruelly, poking your finger into his chest. “I was the one who showed him the video Parker, and you know what? I shouldn’t have! Everybody’s life would be a 100 times better if you never existed!”

As soon as you said that, you closed your mouth, shocked at what you said. You didn’t mean it. Of course you didn’t. But Peter definitely thought so, as his eyes filled up with tears.

“Pete-”

“No. I think you made your point pretty clear”, he mumbled, pushing away the droplets of water with the back of his palm. He moved towards the door, a broken sob exiting from his throat as he pulled the door open with all his strength, unhinging it.

“Peter-”, MJ started, but he just nudged past her, running out of the school. MJ and Ned turned to look at you as you stood there, eyes bloodshot and staring after Peter.

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

This was so fun to write! Thank you to the anon who requested this. There is a part 2 which will be out in a while, so I hope this is a good cliffhanger. Thanks for reading this, and if you liked it, you can reblog it, so more people can see it! See you next time :)

Taglist: @idkatee @eternalscribblesforthesoul @loudbluepancake @poisondevotion @scram1326 @t-hollanderr @305weasley @starknik22 @marvelfansworld @lou-la-lou @lomlparker @marvelfansworld @wowitsel @vanteguccir@fullcheesecakeengineer @ladykxxx08 @allegras-sunflower@a–1–1–3

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Dead Man’s Cell Phone--Chapter 4

Summary: When Emma Swan starts getting phone calls and texts from an unfamiliar number, she decides to check it out–only to discover the number belongs to a Killian Jones, who was killed in a robbery gone wrong six months ago.  With some help from a medium, Merlin Emrys, Emma hopes to find out why a dead guy is contacting her–and why she feels such a strong pull to someone she has never met before.

Rating: K+​

Welcome to my entry for the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer! A big thank you to @cssns​​​, the ladies on the Discord!  Thank you also to @eastwesthomeisbest​​​, my artist and my beta @veryverynotgood​​!

Other Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 Epilogue 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Killian felt as though he were swimming up from the bottom of the ocean.  Everything was dark and still, the sounds around him muffled, as though he were hearing them through the water. And then suddenly the water cleared and he pushed through the surface.

 The first thing he saw upon opening his eyes was her face, her beautiful radiant face looking down on him with hope and perhaps a bit of trepidation.

 "Swan, at last!" he whispered past a throat as dry as sandpaper.

 How he knew her name he had no idea, but know it he did, just as he had the strangest feeling he knew her--had communicated with her, had a connection with her.

 Given the standoffish way she'd treated their one previous encounter, he expected her to pull away, to become defensive at his familiar use of her name, but she surprised him.  Instead of shying away, she smiled at him, let her hand linger on his cheek a moment longer and simply said, "Welcome back."

 A nurse came in at that moment, and Killian looked around in surprise.  For the first time, he realized he was in a hospital.

 "What--" he croaked before taking a sip of water the nurse brought him. "What happened?"

 "We were rather hoping you could tell us that," replied a handsome black man who stood at a discreet distance.

 "Killian, I'd like you to meet Merlin Emrys,"  Emma said. "It's thanks to him we were able to find you."

 Killian held out his hand, and shook Merlin's.  "You have my thanks."

 "You're most welcome," Merlin said with a smile, "but I assure you I was only a small part of the puzzle.  You owe your waking to Miss Swan here--to her and to the connection you share."

 It was odd, Killian thought, that neither he nor Emma had introduced themselves to each other; it was even more odd that it felt as though such an introduction would be redundant.  What had happened to them to make them feel as though they'd known each other for decades?

 Soulmates, a small voice inside of him insisted.

 "You have my deepest gratitude," Killian said, looking around at the two people with him, "both of you."

 Emma took his hand, squeezing it gently.  "Do you remember anything about...whatever it was that brought you here?"

 Killian thought intently for a moment, closing his eyes to help himself concentrate.   "I remember…" He looked up at Emma. "I remember you, love.  I remember running into you, quite literally, and then I came across a scuffle in an alley.  I tried to intervene and was struck from behind, and then...nothing."

 "Killian," Emma said gently, "that was half a year ago.  You were declared dead, and your family interred you in the family mausoleum.  Do you know how that could have happened?"

 Killian shook his head.  "I have no idea, love.  It is a mystery--"

 Suddenly the flower vase on the bedside table crashed to the floor, making Killian jump.

"What the hell?!" Emma exclaimed.

It was me!

Killian jumped in the bed.  He’d heard the voice as clearly as he’d heard Emma’s exclamation, but the voice wasn’t in the room; it was in his head.

“Did you….did you hear that?” he asked, eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline.

“Yeah, I think so,” she said.  She looked as disconcerted as he felt.  “Merlin?  What’s happening?”

Killian turned to look at the other man in the room, but he wasn’t paying them any mind.  His attention was focused near the nightstand and the shattered vase.  For a moment, he merely stared intently, and then he nodded, as though acknowledging someone--or something--neither Killian nor Emma could see.

“Emma,” Merlin said, finally turning back toward the bed, “do you remember when you first came to me, I sensed another spirit with us?  An angry and quite desperate one?”

Emma furrowed her brows.  “Um...yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“He’s with us now,” Merlin said.  “He’s the voice you heard, and he’s responsible for the broken vase.”

“Okay…”

“Killian,” Merlin said, “his name is Arthur.  Arthur Pendragon.  He says he made a terrible decision.  He borrowed a good deal of money from the mobster known as Hades.  The business venture he’d gambled the money on fell through, and to put it mildly, Hades was not pleased.”

“Clearly things went rather badly for him after that if he’s a ghost,” Killian said slowly, “but I’m afraid I don’t follow.  What does this Arthur Pendragon have to do with any of us?”

It was me!!

This time the shout in his head was so loud it was nearly deafening.  Killian scowled, glaring in the general direction of the nightstand where he assumed the spirit was standing--or whatever it is that spirits do when they’re haunting the living.

“Seems like someone’s impatient,” Emma said dryly.  “Merlin, how about you stop with the vagueness and just spit it out.  Who is -or I guess who was- Arthur, and why does he insist on yelling at us?”

“Arthur Pendragon is haunting you both because he was the man in the alley, the man you tried to save, Killian.”

Killian blew out a long breath.  “Clearly my attempts were fruitless.”

Merlin shook his head.  “No, you weren’t able to save his life, but he’s here for a reason.  Maybe you can help him now, help him move on, help him find peace.”

“If there’s anything I can do to help, I’m at his disposal,” Killian said, “but why the bloody hell does he keep repeating ‘it was me’?”

Merlin turned toward the nightstand and listened for another moment, and then he turned back to the bed, smiling.

“It would seem Arthur Pendragon is the solution to the mystery you face,” Merlin said. “It was Arthur’s body the authorities found in the alley.  Your phone, Killian, was found beside him.  Given the fact that he was beaten until he was unrecognizable, and given the fact that he bore a rather uncanny resemblance to you in life, it was believed he was you.  It was his body that was shipped back to England.”

Emma whistled.  “That’s quite the mistake.”

“Indeed,” Merlin agreed.

“So, how can we help him?” Killian asked.  “How can we move him toward the light?”

“Arthur wishes his body to be returned back home,” Merlin said, “and he wishes a message be conveyed to his widow, Guinevere.”

“I can manage that,” Killian said.  “What precisely is the message?”

“Arthur wishes to tell Gwen, as he calls her, that he’s sorry,” Merlin said.  “He knows his obsession wounded his wife deeply, and he wishes more than anything that he’d been a better husband to her.  He wants to thank her for her constant love and faithfulness, even when he was not worthy of it, but now she should follow her heart with his blessing.  Lance du Lac is a good man, and Arthur hopes they are happy together.”

“I promise you, Arthur,” Emma said, taking Killian’s hand, “I’ll find your wife, and I’ll pass on your message.”

Killian felt a whoosh of coldness pass him, and then it was gone.  Suddenly the room felt warmer, lighter.  

Emptier.

“He’s moved on,” Merlin said.  “Thanks to the both of you, a man who was very troubled--both in life and in death--was able to find peace.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

3 days later

Emma knocked softly on the doorframe, and then stepped inside Killian’s hospital room.  He looked up from his seat in the plush chair in the corner, and his entire face lit up at the sight of her.

It made the butterflies dance in her stomach.  He was gorgeous when he smiled like that, and she had to admit, the dark-wash jeans, blue button-up and black leather jacket didn’t hurt either.  Lying in the bed in a hospital gown he was easy on the eyes, but up and dressed--woah!

His delighted grin turned knowing, and Emma felt her face flame.  She was quite sure she hadn’t been this ridiculously attracted to someone since...well, she wasn’t sure it’d ever been like this.

“Looks like someone’s eager to get out of the hospital,” Emma said.

“Aye,” Killian agreed with a nod.  “I believe I’ve spent more than enough time in this small room.  I’m eager to make the most of my last day in the States.”

After waking from the coma and learning the truth of what happened to him, Killian had made an immediate call to his brother, Liam, paying no mind to the time difference that made it the middle of the night in England.

“Brother?” Killian said as soon as the call connected.  “Are you sitting down?”

Emma had gotten up to leave then, not wanting to intrude on a private family moment, but Killian stopped her, squeezing her hand and begging her with his expressive eyes to stay.

Liam had offered to jump on the next plane to the States, but Killian had refused.  “It’s been six months, Liam,” he’d said.  “If my calculations are correct, my small niece or nephew is to be born any day.  Elsa needs you now more than I do.”

Killian listened for a moment before grinning at Emma and rolling his eyes.  “Stop fussing, Liam,” he murmured affectionately.  “I’m not a lad anymore.  I can manage alone.”

“You won’t be alone,” Emma said with conviction.  “I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

And she had.  She’d spent every free moment here with him at the hospital over the ensuing three days until the doctor had agreed to release him.  Emma had long since stopped wondering about the connection she felt to Killian, had stopped fighting against the pull she felt toward him.  Whatever odd twist of fate had brought the two of them together, together they were, and  Emma found she had no desire to fight against the warmth and happiness being with him brought.

But now, well now, it was all about to come to an end.  Killian’s flight was first thing in the morning, and afterward, there would be an entire ocean between them.

Emma’s heart plummeted.  There were far too many obstacles for a “relationship”--or whatever you’d call what they had--that had lasted all of a week. She didn’t even know if he felt the same way about her that she did about him.  In less than twenty-four hours, she’d have to say goodbye to the man who had somehow managed to burrow his way into her heart, and for all she knew that goodbye would be permanent.

“The doctor should be here any minute for a last check, and then you’re out of here,” Emma said, forcing the dismal thoughts from her mind.  Killian being released from the hospital was a good thing.  She wasn’t going to ruin the moment by being glum.

“I must admit, I’ll be pleased to be rid of this place,” Killian said with a wry grin.  “How the devil is one expected to convalesce and get his rest when the nurses come to poke and prod every five minutes?”

Emma laughed.  “Quit complaining,” she said. “You know you had all the nurses eating out of the palm of your hand.”

“They seem to have adopted me as their pet over the past few months, haven’t they? Even if the brigands who attacked me rather knocked the handsome out of me.”

Emma grinned.  “No one’s that powerful.”

He enjoyed her flirting, if his pleased grin was any indication.  After a moment, he sobered.  “I want to thank you, Swan, for saving me, pulling me from the coma.”

She smiled gently.  “Did you really think I’d let you waste away in here if I could help it?”

“I’d hardly blame you if you did,” he answered.  “After all, we were strangers.  Not one person in a hundred who received a phone call from a dead man would put in half the effort you did to track it down.”

Emma shrugged.  “It was weird.  I had the strangest feeling of connection to you, even though as far as I knew at the time, I’d never even seen you before.  No way I could have just let you languish here.”

The doctor came in at that moment, and their conversation was put on hold as he did his final examination before declaring Killian fit to go about his normal life.

“So, I went ahead and booked you a room at Granny’s Bed and Breakfast,” Emma said when they were once again at home.  “Granny put you in the same room you’d been in during your vacation, before, you know, everything happened.”

“I greatly appreciate it, love.”

“I guess, um,” she said, “we should go.  I’ll drop you off and let you enjoy your last day in Storybrooke however you’d like.”

Emma turned to leave the room, but Killian stopped her with a hand to her arm.  “Do you know how I’d most like to spend my last day in the States?”

She shook her head.

“I’d like to spend it with you,” he said with a gentle smile.  “Would you allow me to buy you lunch?”

Her heart pounded.  “Are you...are you asking me out?”

He nodded, taking her hand and lacing their fingers.  “If you’re amenable, aye, I’m absolutely asking you out.  What do you say?”

Emma stepped into his space, cupped the back of his head with her free hand, and brought his lips down to hers.  If he was surprised at the kiss, he didn’t show it, responding as soon as her lips touched his.

And gods did he know how to kiss.  Emma was more than tempted to scrap their lunch date and simply stay here making out all day.  Food was overrated compared to this.

“Alright, Mr. Jones, you’re good to--oh, I’m sorry!  Let me just leave this with you--” 

Emma pulled away, grinning as the embarrassed nurse laid a handful of forms on the bedside table and then scurried out the door.

“That was a yes, by the way,” Emma said when they were again alone.  “How about we go get that lunch you promised me before we scandalize any more nurses?”

 Notes:

--Well there you have it!  Mystery solved and happy endings all around.

--All that’s left is a fluffy epilogue in which a few surprise guests show up at an important event in Emma and Killian’s lives.

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