#unhealthy family relationships

[oranges-and-peaches]

a list of all the fics i've uploaded to ao3 and snippets

it's no use going back to yesterday (i was a different person then) - splintered

“I hurt her?” The words come out without me even thinking about it. If I wasn’t sure about going crazy before I sure am now, because out of all the things Jeb could’ve said, I wasn’t expecting that.

blend blend - jazzpunk

She’s having fun! Sure, she isn’t really allowed in the hot tub by the orders of her sister, but she doesn’t need to be in there! Yeah, she's a little bummed out by the fact that her sister took both of the guys for herself and took her aside to not so nicely tell her to back off, but that doesn’t matter. She's just happy to have been invited for once!

rabbit pie day - too many cooks

she wishes she could cry. she wishes she could do anything else except smile. but she can't. she no longer wants to be here. katie had been so excited to be in a show and on tv. she didn't anticipate the freedom of her sense of self being taken away. she's not allowed to moved if there isn't a camera on her. is this a curse? it sure seems like it; feels like it. she never felt this much pain in her life. it's not physical, no. It's mental.

apocalyptic creep - the walking dead, original

He was just minding his business! Really! He was! It's not like he was trying to creep on her! After the chaos his most recent encampment had ended in, he had been on his own. Seeing the woman approaching the area he was camping out in had scared him. He quietly retreated back into the building, as to not be seen. With slow movements, he made his way from the roof to the ground floor, wanting to keep a closer eye on this mysterious woman.

drip - original

The sounds in this damned lighthouse are going to drive her crazy in her last moments. The dripping from the waterlogged walls and ceiling along with the wet stuttering of her own breaths are not what she wanted to hear.

This was not how she imagined this situation would go. This is not how she imagined she would die.

I've got problems(sung like the mother mother song) - original

Oh.

I don't think she's here to help me.

That was the last thought I had before the thing squeezed its hand and everything went black.

dog days are over - gravity falls, alice in borderland

Still, Dipper tries to think reasonably about why everyone on the street would be gone. Maybe they had to evacuate? He walks down the neighborhoods surrounding his and knocks and rings bells on every door he can. When absolutely no one answers he decides to check the rest of town. He thinks about what might be open at this time of night. He goes and checks the restaurant and grocery store. Dipper even goes to the museum but can’t find anyone. Maybe it was an emergency evacuation?

With no one around he decides to go back home. At least being there will bring him some comfort.

silence is fear - the backrooms, liminal spaces

Very Unsettling. That's the only way to describe this place. He'd been sitting here for god knows how long, scared to move on. He isn't even sure why he's scared; there's nothing really jumping out to him. Maybe that's why he's feeling so paranoid. The fact that everything seems normal but he knows that it isn't.

[thepeacefulgarden]

[scarecrows-mocking-birb]

Answer: Since the mother only had to carry her 12 more weeks, the baby was ~6 months along, so the process was clump of cells (1-3 months, according to NCCIH, brain and heart not entirely made yet), "ma'am your baby has a tumor, but there's a way to fix it." (4-6, baby now kicking inside and everything), "congratulations, it's a girl!" (9 months, now properly born)

This shouldn't be hard to understand. Please retake middle school if you don't understand.

In 2016, doctors operated on a pregnant woman so they could remove a tumor from her baby. To do it, they took the baby out of her womb for 20 minutes. The mother carried it for another 12 weeks and gave birth to a healthy baby girl.

[raspberriclouds]

thinking about devotion and dick “i would die for you bruce” grayson and eldest children and the concept of the sins of the father being paid for by the son and bruce ‘nightwing is the best of us’ wayne and what it takes to disrupt your life to raise a child

anyway i just think that a lot of people who write them not liking each other don’t understand the feeling when you’re too similar to do anything but understand each other and that both destroys and heals your relationship

[lazylittledragon]

Your novel excerpts are incredible and I would love to see more. The warmth and care you put into it shines through and I just want more of it!

On a side note, incredibly unfair that you can draw AND write so masterfully. A true power house, haha.

aaAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH :'DDD

as a treat you can have some more akdffd

if the main plot is 'Fantasy Murder Mystery' then the biggest subplot is probably 'Snow is Not Doing Well'

[kacievvbbbb]

Just one of the many great tragedies of Mishanks' relationship is that sometimes Shanks wants to feel wanted just as he is, that even beyond the strength he is worth the effort he is worth being loved and unfortunately that just isn't something Mihawk can offer him it's just not something he can do, not as he is now at least. That's a level of emotional maturity that he just does not possess to be able to disentangle the strength from the man that makes no sense to him. Strength is all there is. Shanks is a person, has a life outside of his strength, his power is just another aspect of who he is but for Mihawk strength is his whole person, if he is not strong then he is nothing. If shanks is not strong well then....he's nothing to him.

And God that's a lonely way to live.

[shima-draws]

I’ve mentioned it before but I’m a fucking sucker for unhealthy dependent relationships. There’s just something about them that is so. Chef’s kiss 👌

Anyway I’m still thinking about how Law was so attached to Cora and was so traumatized by his death that he literally devoted thirteen YEARS of his life to revenge killing Doflamingo. Even though all Cora ever wanted was for Law to just be free and live his life happily. And Law spending all his time in a hateful revenge spiral is literally the exact OPPOSITE of what Cora wanted for him. BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE. If the thirteen years of endless devotion to avenging his savior wasn’t enough Law 1. Named his pirate crew the Heart Pirates in honor of Cora, 2. Covered himself in permanent heart-themed tattoos in honor of Cora, and 3. Fashioned his Jolly Roger to be a mockery of Doflamingo’s and ALSO to honor Cora. Homie is a walking memorial for a man he only really knew for six months and again crafted the most intricate plan known to mankind to murder Cora’s killer. Because losing Cora fucked him up THAT much. Because even though Cora set him free, the moment Doflamingo shot him Law was chained to the memory of a man who no longer existed. Law literally fashioned his entire life down to his own appearance after Cora and it makes me so insane. I cannot even imagine what went through his head after Dressrosa I mean how do you move on after a thirteen year grudge is put to rest. What is he supposed to do now. Avenging Cora was literally his entire existence, his entire reason for living for half of his life. He needs therapy probably. If Cora somehow ever did come back to life Law would lose his fucking mind. The dependency is SO unhealthy and I am SO here for it

[necrotic-nephilim]

au for the ask game: omegaverse where omega dick grooms ealry-presented alpha tim in "prodigal son"

dick is going through one of the worst periods of his life after breaking up his wedding with kory (maybe she, like a tamaran, couldn't understand the secondary gender of humans and during the breakup said something bad about dick as an omega) and then tim appears with stars in his eyes and believes that dick is the best human being on earth.

bonus points if the society has progressed enough and mating with children is strictly prohibited, even if they present early.

for the ask game!

gdfdsfdgbf anon i'm kissing you on the mouth. this is my favorite flavor of Omegaverse, especially for DickTim. i'm a proud believer in the dominant omega!Dick/submissive alpha!Tim propaganda. also a big fan of how terrible Dick's life is during Batman: Prodigal. and i just. man i love the Omegaverse concepts of alien characters like Kory not understanding secondary gender and it causing rifts.

what's fun about the Prodigal era is just how isolated Tim and Dick are during it. Bruce is off.. being fucking Bruce, and Alfred is also away, so it's really just Dick and Tim for a bit. they've always worked with each other and have a repertoire, but a lot of the conversations they have about each other's pasts are happening for the first time. so it's such a fun time for Tim to present as an alpha. and of course, his hero worship for Dick (especially after having to deal with Jean-Paul) makes it so *easily* for Dick to just. slip his fingers into. Dick's isolated from the Titans, he's lost Kory, he's on the rocks with Bruce, and so there's just something so nice about this kid who still holds utter faith in him. he doesn't see any of the societal stereotypes about omegas in Dick, he just sees Dick. and then, he presents and he trusts *Dick* with that information, lets Dick guide him through the most awkward parts of presenting. how can Dick not want to take advantage of that? a young, fresh alpha who he's currently in charge of mentoring, with no one to stop Dick or notice what he's doing.

it's still tricky, of course. Dick not only has to make sure he's not breaking the law, but he also has to keep Tim from noticing, immediately. Tim's hero worship crush is the most obvious thing about him, but that doesn't mean Dick can jump on him. it needs careful time and planning. Bruce might not be around, but Tim still has his dad who could notice the scent of an omega on Tim. so instead of marking Tim, Dick starts marking himself with Tim's scent. it starts small, using the same blanket Tim has used in the Batcave, grabbing a couple of Tim's oversized hoodies and wearing them. things with plausible enough deniability, but enough that Tim starts to subconsciously associate his scent with Dick. when he can't smell himself on Dick he feels like something is wrong. and when he's finally brave enough to bring it up to Dick, Dick is able to spin it on Tim. make it seem like Tim is the one coming onto Dick, assuming things. Dick plays it cool, pretending to be shocked by the idea of it. he gently explains to Tim what he could be implying about their relationship and Tim is *mortified*, apologizing and tripping over himself to try and fix it. but Dick just calms him down, promises Tim he isn't mad bc hey, Tim is a fresh alpha and he presented so *young*, it's difficult to navigate.

so you have Dick offering to help navigate this with Tim and using it to get closer and closer to Tim. grooming him into the type of alpha that Dick wants in a relationship. anytime there's behavior in Tim that Dick doesn't like, Dick can pretty easily redirect by dropping comments about how Tim just "can't help" acting like this because of his alpha nature, which instantly makes Tim scramble to fix it. Dick likes Tim for who he is, this cute, sweet kid who's such a handsome little alpha. but he's rough around the edges and Dick puts it on himself to smooth those edges over. he's playing the long game with this, and he doesn't mind waiting it out. and Tim can't complain when Dick pushes the boundaries, making him uncomfortable, because he doesn't want Dick to think he's a *pervert* for thinking that way. it's one big mind game.

i do think, Dick would cave and sleep with Tim before Tim's an adult. he's smart enough not to mate Tim, and he's definitely smart enough not to sleep with Tim enough for Bruce, a beta, to notice what's going on. but when some sort of sex pollen incident triggers a simultaneous heat and rut for Dick and Tim respectively, it's the most convenient in that Dick needs. Dick acts like they're doing this out of necessity, that he's giving in even though he doesn't want to, just because of how Tim's acting under the aphrodisiac. it gives him complete control over the sex because Tim is so desperate to not give in to his "alpha ways" and hurt Dick by being violent or animalistic. Dick gets to pin Tim down, possibly even tie him down "for his own safety" and ride him until Tim is a crying mess under Dick. after the first time, if Dick orchestrates more scenarios where they end up in "fuck or die" situations well, it's not like anyone's noticing. at the height, he even manages to have sex with Tim without that sort of pretense, he just has to act like he can tell how needy Tim is and sigh, pretending he's the one doing Tim a favor "just this once" by letting Tim fuck him.

in the end, it's a long con that pays off. it takes until Battle for the Cowl but Tim's a legal adult. and Dick is Batman again, which really does feel like everything coming full circle. part of the reason Dick makes Damian Robin is to remove the pretense of Tim and Dick being sidekick and mentor. it makes it easier for Dick to insist he really does see Tim as a full adult (even if he doesn't, deep down. Tim is still a fresh teenager, just because it's legal doesn't make it any less morally questionable) and something more than Robin. Dick makes a comment about them being mates so offhandedly it makes Tim stop in his tracks. Tim, who's about to go on his Red Robin arc and isolate himself, now has a chance at being mates with his hero. a chance to smooth over their differences and be actual equal partners. of course, Tim jumps on it. maybe deep down, after they mate and Dick is all too pleased with himself, it clicks for Tim that this was all a set-up. he puts the pieces together while they're cuddling in bed. he knows deep down that Dick will never *actually* see him as an equal. but, the deed is done and if Tim is going to give himself over to anyone, of course it's going to be Dick Grayson.

[malrie]

the thing abt liper in general too though is that it’s probably the one couple that if canonically they did get together after jason died literally no one would support them LOL. that is the hard truth. not many ppl were leo’s biggest fans in the first place but the second he gets together w piper it’s like ohhh god you guys need therapy boo tomato tomato. piper snap out of it this isn’t you etc.. piper is again the only tlh favorite so it just makes sense they’d be protective. and also liper would just come across to everyone as clearly self-destructive with how insular they become bc hello…why wouldn’t they end up that way they’re crazy.

annabeth leaving 3882743 iris message recordings to piper: pleasplease gods he’s so bad for you break up with himmmmmm *cryign and throwing up*

percy, adding on: ive been talking with nico and maybe there is a way to resurrect jason don’t get too hasty now ok piper *dad chuckle* let’s not make bad life decisions here…

[oranges-and-peaches]

here's a snippet and the link to the new story i wrote about the bloody mary girl from jazzpunk:

Do people not show this man gratitude for being kind and helping them out? She doesn’t think about it too much and quickly slurps down the drink, trying to keep her face from scrunching up at the taste. Not wanting to upset the man that was trying to do good, She forced a smile on her face and told him how yummy it was. The man walks away looking just about as confused as she was.

remember to always check the tags when it comes to my stories

[thepeacefulgarden]

[inevitablysomber-dark]

The Price of Success 4

Dark! Peter Parker x Clementine! Reader

Summary: Clementine has fought tooth and nail to achieve her dream of attending a prestigious university. Balancing her demanding workload, a suffocating home life, and financial strain, she’ll do whatever it takes to stay afloat. Enter Peter Parker: wealthy, charming, and unexpectedly fixated on her. When he offers a proposition that could solve all her problems, Clementine reluctantly agrees—unaware she’s stepping into a carefully constructed trap. What begins as a transactional relationship spirals into something far darker as Peter’s true intentions come to light.

Warnings: This story contains dark themes, including manipulation, psychological and emotional abuse, unhealthy relationships, non-consensual elements, obsessive behavior, gaslighting, loss of autonomy, familial neglect, and power imbalances. Please read at your own discretion.

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto

Series Masterlist

Peter’s place wasn’t at all what I had imagined—not that I’d given it much thought before. The two doormen at the front should have been my first clue that this wasn’t your average apartment. When he opened the door and led me inside, it felt like I had stepped into one of those homes featured in Architectural Digest. The kind reserved for the ultra-wealthy, not for a regular college student.

The entryway alone was impressive, with sleek marble floors and modern art hanging on the walls. As we walked further, I found myself surrounded by so much space that it was almost unsettling. This wasn’t just an apartment; it was a penthouse.

“Would you like anything to drink?” Peter asked, pulling me from my thoughts. “I’ve got tea, coffee, soda, juice... water?” He gestured toward a hall that seemed to lead to the kitchen.

“Water’s fine,” I said, following behind him, unsure whether I felt impressed or out of place.

“Make yourself at home. The living room’s just through there,” he said, pointing to an open space before disappearing into the kitchen.

The living room was intimidating in its own way. Sleek leather furniture and glass tables gave it a bachelor pad vibe, but the carefully curated touches—plush throw pillows, elegant vases, and soft lighting—hinted that an older woman had been involved in decorating. Maybe his mom or grandmother.

Massive windows overlooked the city skyline, offering a breathtaking view that felt surreal.

“Your place is huge,” I called out, still taking everything in. Did he really need this much space? It felt excessive, even for someone like Peter.

“Yeah,” he said, stepping out of the kitchen with a glass of water in one hand and a mug in the other. “My parents insisted. They were worried about my safety and comfort.”

I raised an eyebrow as I took the water from him. “Comfort? What do they think happens in dorms, survival of the fittest?”

He laughed lightly, settling into the couch, placing his mug onto the coffee table and motioning for me to join him. “Something like that. They wanted me to have my own space so I wouldn’t have to deal with, you know, the usual college stuff.”

I couldn’t help but scoff. “You mean other people?”

“Exactly,” he said with a smirk.

I sipped my water, my eyes wandering around the room again. Everything about this place radiated wealth, from the subtle branding on the throw blankets to the polished wood paneling lining the walls. It was impressive, but it was also a stark reminder of the enormous gap between Peter’s world and mine.

I couldn’t even get my parents to call a plumber to fix the leak in the basement they dumped me in, and here was Peter, living a life of luxury at his parents’ insistence.

“So, what do you think?” he asked, watching me carefully.

“It’s... a lot,” I admitted “Not what I expected.”

He tilted his head slightly. “And what did you expect?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Something more lived-in. This feels like a catalog.”

Peter chuckled, leaning back against the couch. “You’re not wrong. My Aunt May and her decorator had way too much fun with this place. I’m usually always out, so I haven’t really marked this place as my own.”

I nodded, unsure of what else to say. This world he lived in was so far removed from mine that I couldn’t even begin to relate, but at least he seemed self-aware.

As I sank into the couch, I let myself relax for the first time in months.

"Would you like to watch a movie?" Peter asked, his voice casual but his expression anything but. The look in his eyes told me he didn’t want the night to end, and if I were honest with myself, neither did I.

Tomorrow was Saturday, my usual routine of leaving early for the library, attending an afternoon class, and then tutoring Peter himself. For once, the thought of lingering felt more appealing than rushing back home.

"What did you have in mind?" I asked, meeting his gaze.

Peter shrugged, flashing an easy grin. "I’ve got Netflix, Hulu, HBO, Disney Plus, anything you want. And if I don’t have it, I can get it."

I rolled my eyes, smiling despite myself. "Your house, your pick."

"Ah, but you’re the guest, so you have to pick," he countered, his grin widening.

I chuckled softly. "Seriously, I don’t care. I’m just happy to finally relax for once. Whatever you put on is fine with me."

Peter nodded and scrolled through Netflix before selecting something from the top picks. He stood to dim the lights, the glow of his massive TV illuminating the room as he settled back onto the couch, this time a little closer.

I took a sip of my water, setting it on the small end table beside me. For a while, we sat in silence, the sound of the movie filling the space. I felt his arm shift behind me, casually resting on the back of the couch.

I wasn’t oblivious. I knew Peter had an interest in me, it had been clear for some time now. But I also knew it would be in both our best interests to keep him at a distance. Yet, as I glanced over at him, something was different. Maybe it was the soft glow of the screen highlighting the sharp angles of his jawline or the way his smirk tugged at the corner of his lips when he caught me looking.

“What?” he asked, his voice teasing.

I hesitated, my mind racing. Was it the vulnerable place I was in mentally, after months of unrelenting stress? Or was it the fact that, for the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel entirely hopeless?

I decided to set the bait.

And if he didn’t take it, I’d leave.

Leaning forward, I pressed a quick, soft peck to his lips. His eyes widened in surprise, confusion flickering in them as he searched mine for an answer.

I leaned in again, this time lingering a little longer. He hesitated at first, his posture stiff, but then he leaned in too.

Just as I started to pull away, his arm moved from the back of the couch to cradle the back of my head. He deepened the kiss, his other hand sliding to my waist as he pulled me closer. The warmth of his touch contrasted sharply with the cool indifference I’d been holding onto for so long.

For the first time in weeks, I let myself stop thinking.

Peter’s hands slid to my hips, guiding me over him until I was straddling his waist. The shift in position made me acutely aware of the hard bulge pressing against me through his jeans. A mix of nerves and curiosity shot through me, but I didn’t stop. Instead, I shifted slightly, pushing against him experimentally.

Peter broke the kiss with a sharp hiss, his head falling back against the couch. His hands tightened on my hips, holding me still as if he was trying to rein himself in. His breath was uneven, his chest rising and falling beneath me.

"This feels like a dream," he murmured, his voice low and filled with awe, as if he couldn’t believe this was happening.

Leaning forward, I brushed my lips against his ear, my voice a soft whisper. "Then let’s try not to wake up."

His hands gripped me a little tighter, and before I could pull away, he tilted his head back toward me, capturing my lips in a kiss that felt more intense, more consuming. It was as though he was afraid the moment might slip away if he didn’t hold onto it tightly enough.

Carefully, Peter stood, still holding me in his arms, and gently laid me back on the couch, positioning himself over me. His eyes searched mine, almost as if asking for permission one more time without words. I answered by reaching up, pulling him closer, and reconnecting our lips.

Clothes began to come off in a flurry of hurried hands and nervous excitement. When we were finally bare, Peter paused, breaking the kiss to look down at me. His expression was soft, almost reverent, as he traced a hand lightly over my cheek.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice low and steady, but the slightest tremor of vulnerability cracked through.

I nodded, my breath hitching. "Yes."

He let out a deep, shuddering breath, his body visibly relaxing as if he’d been holding in the weight of the world. Then, with deliberate care, he aligned himself and slowly entered me. A gasp escaped my lips, a deep sigh of pleasure as the sensation of fullness took over. His lips found mine again, soft and reassuring, before moving to trail kisses along my jawline and down my neck.

He held me close, his movements tender but deliberate, each stroke sending waves of pleasure rippling through my body. The Netflix movie we’d been watching was now just a forgotten hum in the background, white noise to accompany the symphony of our breathing and soft moans. Peter moved with an unhurried rhythm, his confidence smooth but not overbearing.

I wrapped my legs around him instinctively, drawing him closer, urging him to go deeper. He responded immediately, his pace quickening, his control slipping as his movements grew more erratic. The heat between us built steadily, the pressure mounting with each thrust.

I could feel it. The end creeping closer, a tantalizing edge calling me to leap. My breath came in shallow gasps, my body trembling under his as Peter’s own resolve began to waver. His grip on my body tightened, his head dipping to press his forehead against mine as we both climbed higher, lost in the moment.

When the climax finally hit, it was like a tidal wave crashing over me, leaving me breathless and weightless all at once. My fingernails dug into his back as a sharp cry escaped my lips, my body arching into his. Peter followed seconds later, his own release washing over him with a deep, guttural groan. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his body trembling as he shuddered through the intensity of his orgasm.

We stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other, letting the aftershocks subside. Peter lifted his head, his eyes searching mine with a softness that made my chest ache.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but filled with genuine concern.

Still dazed and recovering from the high, I gave him a dopey smile. "I’m perfect."

He chuckled, the sound low and warm as he leaned down to plant another kiss on my lips. "Yes, you are," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from my face before pulling me into his arms.

The next morning, I woke up in Peter’s arms, both of us completely nude. The events of the night before had stretched well into the early hours, culminating in us finally crashing in his bedroom.

Peter held me close, and I found myself focusing on the rise and fall of his chest, listening to the light rhythm of his breathing. Outside of the pleasant soreness in my body, this was easily the best sleep I’d had in weeks.

I turned my head toward the clock on his nightstand. I’d already missed my morning study session, but if I hurried, I could still make it to my afternoon class. Groaning softly, I shifted to sit up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes and stretching to shake off any lingering exhaustion.

The movement roused Peter. He stirred, blinking at me groggily before giving me a lazy, lopsided smile.

“Hey, you,” he said, his voice rough from sleep. “How are you feeling?” He stretched his arms overhead, letting out a satisfied yawn.

“I’m feeling great, actually,” I replied, smiling despite myself. “Better than I have in a while.”

“Good to hear.”

He leaned in to kiss my temple, his lips warm against my skin, before pulling back the blanket covering him and hopping out of bed.

“So, I was thinking,” he started, standing stark naked in front of me without a hint of self-consciousness, “we could order in for breakfast. Maybe have a chill morning?”

It was then I remembered my plans for the day. “About that,” I said hesitantly, still clutching the blanket around me, as I stood to face away from him and his nudity. “I actually have to go home and get ready for my afternoon class. And…” I added, pointing toward his general direction with my finger, “we still have a tutoring session later, don’t forget.”

Peter moves to stand in front of me, an amused grin on his face as he stepped closer. “You don’t need to go home for that.”

I raised an eyebrow.

He placed his hands lightly on my hips, making it impossible not to look at his face. “I had Gerald pick up a Plan B pill for you this morning—”

“Wait, who’s Gerald?” I interrupted.

“My butler,” he said nonchalantly. “He’s from a legacy of butlers. He handles the house and anything else I might need.”

I blinked. A butler? A legacy of butlers? How absurd.

“Anyway,” he continued, as though he hadn’t just dropped that bombshell, “he also grabbed some clothes for you, so if you want, you can stay here, take a shower, and head straight to class. The university’s only twenty minutes away on foot, but I can drop you off myself if you’d prefer.” he starts rubbing his thumbs into my hips “Save you about 15 minutes or so.”

“I still need to get my laptop from home.”

“Do you use cloud storage for notes and texts?” he asks

“Well, Y-yeah, b-but.”

“I have iPad’s, laptops, and tablets. Take your pick and just login.”

How convenient. I hesitated, trying to decide if I was comfortable with this level of generosity.

Peter leaned in closer, his hands still firmly on my hips, his face softening into an imploring expression. “Please? Stay for breakfast.”

“I don’t know,” I said, biting my lip. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not intruding,” he said smoothly. “You were invited.”

When I looked up, he was giving me the most ridiculous set of puppy dog eyes. I sighed, feeling my resolve crumble under his gaze.

“Alright,” I relented, laughing softly. “I guess I can stay a little longer.”

“Perfect,” he said, his grin brightening as he leaned down to kiss me, warm and lingering.

The kiss caught me off guard. It wasn’t like we hadn’t been intimate all night, but something about the softness, the casual affection of it, left me feeling... awkward. Maybe it was because, for all the physical closeness we’d shared, this moment felt unexpectedly intimate in a way I wasn’t used to.

Peter moved toward a drawer near the corner of the room, rummaging through its contents while I stood there clutching the blanket to myself, unsure what to do. He pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, walking back to hand them to me.

“Here,” he said with a small smile. “Figured you wouldn’t want to walk around the house naked.”

I nodded, taking the clothes from him. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” he replied, turning back to find something for himself in the same drawer.

“Uh, Peter?” I started, hesitating.

“Where’s the bathroom?” I added quickly, not wanting him to misinterpret my question. “I need to use the bathroom,” I clarified, hoping to wipe away any doubts about my comfort. I didn’t need him thinking I was regretting anything.

The uncertainty on his face disappeared instantly, replaced by that easygoing grin. He pointed to a door adjacent to the bed. “Right there.”

“Thanks,” I said, shuffling toward it, still clutching the blanket as if it were my armor. I stepped inside, shutting the door firmly behind me and making sure the lock clicked into place before exhaling deeply.

The bathroom was massive, sleek, and impossibly clean—practically showroom-ready, save for a hamper overflowing with clothes in one corner, a toothbrush and toothpaste perched on the counter, and a half-filled garbage bin. The cool marble tiles underfoot and the sheer size of the space made the bathroom look like a utopia.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror above the sink, running a hand through my disheveled hair. For a moment, I let myself take in the surrealness of it all. The previous night, I was curled up on a couch in my parents’ home, dreaming of a way out. Now, I was standing in a bathroom big enough to fit my entire makeshift room in the basement.

I shook my head, pushing the thoughts aside. Dwelling on it wouldn’t change anything. After relieving myself and tidying up, I grabbed Peter’s t-shirt and boxers, slipping them on. They were far too big, but the soft fabric and faint scent of his cologne were oddly comforting.

When I emerged, Peter was sitting on the edge of the bed, now fully dressed in a fitted shirt and grey sweatpants, scrolling through his phone. He looked up when I stepped out, his smile warm and immediate.

“You look good,” he said, gesturing to his clothes on me.

I laughed lightly, tugging at the hem of the oversized shirt. “Thanks. Not exactly high fashion, though.”

“High fashion is overrated,” he quipped. “You pull it off.”

His casual compliment left me a little flustered, but I quickly changed the subject. “So, breakfast?”

“Breakfast,” he confirmed, standing and offering me his hand. I hesitated for a second before taking it, letting him lead me out of the room.

I walked out of my afternoon class and headed toward the campus café to grab a Gatorade, still marveling at the outfit I was wearing. Luxury from head to toe—Prada dress, matching purse, and even a pair of designer shoes that felt like walking on clouds. It wasn’t that I’d never worn or seen luxury items before, but having them bought for me, on a whim, was something else entirely.

When Peter’s butler, Gerald, handed me the bag this morning, I half-expected to find something generic from Macy’s—a simple one-size-fits-all dress. Instead, I’d been met with pure couture, along with a small assortment of fancy shower items, as if I were a visiting dignitary.

Compliments followed me all day, even on a relatively empty campus. A few lingering looks from passing students, nods of approval, and whispered envy. It was new, and while part of me enjoyed it, another part felt a little exposed.

Gerald, for his part, had been exactly what I expected from a butler: stoic and professional. Yet, he had this warmth to him, calling Peter "Master Peter" and me "Miss Clementine," which took me completely by surprise. Hearing someone older and wiser address me so formally was jarring, but oddly, it didn’t feel patronizing. Just... proper.

As I left campus, heading back to Peter’s place for our tutoring session, I heard a familiar beep. Peter was parked at the curb in his car, waving me over.

“You didn’t have to do this,” I said as I opened the passenger door and slipped in.

“Of course, I did.” He grinned, his boyish charm on full display. “Aunt May would’ve killed me if she found out I made a girl walk all the way back to my apartment.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

“Oh, by the way,” he added, “the frat guys found Nikki’s keys. Turns out they were in the punch bowl.”

I wrinkled my nose. “How unsanitary.”

“Tell me about it. But don’t worry, Gerald and I got her car back to her safe and sound. I also grabbed your things.”

He gestured to the backseat, where I saw my bag and some books neatly stacked.

“What about Carrot’s stuff?” I asked.

“Got hers back to her too,” he said nonchalantly.

“How?”

He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, Nikki’s address was on her car insurance card. As for you and Carrot, I... might’ve snooped a little to figure out what belonged to who.”

Weird, but practical.

I blinked, unsure how to feel. “I guess I’m just not used to people going out of their way like that.”

Peter’s smile softened. “Well, you should get used to it. Gerald’s cooking steak tonight, by the way. Any chance you’d want to stay for dinner after our tutoring session?”

How odd but steak sounded good. I shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

The tutoring session went smoothly as usual. Gerald busied himself in the kitchen while Peter and I worked through the material at the dining room table. When we finished, I couldn’t resist asking a question that had been lingering in my mind.

“Why do you keep requesting tutoring sessions with me when you clearly don’t need them?”

Peter’s face flushed pink as he fumbled for an answer. “Well—”

“Because of me, Miss Clementine,” Gerald interrupted, appearing with two plates. He set them down in front of us before continuing. “Master Peter is the heir to a very important company, and I believe that no matter how much he may already know, nothing beats consistent practice. In fact, I’m the one who hired you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Tony Stark didn’t finish school. He seems to be doing fine running, at least half, of the company without all this extra tutoring.”

Gerald placed his own plate at the table and sat down. “What works for one may not work for another, Miss Clementine. Mr. Stark had to step into his role prematurely after the tragic demise of his parents. Had they lived, I assure you, he would have completed his education.”

Peter’s blush deepened, and I couldn’t help but smirk at his embarrassment.

When dinner was finished, Gerald collected the plates, and I packed up my things, returning a tablet I’d borrowed from Peter earlier.

“Why don’t you stay a bit longer?” Peter asked, his voice tinged with something hopeful.

“I need to get home,” I said, though my voice lacked conviction.

“Gerald made banana pudding? ” Peter teased, his grin widening.

From the kitchen, Gerald called out, “Best banana pudding you’ll ever have, Miss Clementine.”

I hesitated. Banana pudding was my weakness, but I didn’t want to overstay my welcome.

“I don’t know...”

Peter’s expression softened. “Look, I don’t mean to pry, but you seem miserable at the idea of going home. Stay here for a bit. You’re not doing anything tomorrow, right? And honestly... I really like the company.”

I raised an eyebrow, pretending suspicion. “Is it just my company you like?”

He flushed again. “Among other things,” he admitted with a sheepish grin, “but yes, your company is at the top of the list.”

I chuckled. “Fine. I’ll stay a little longer.”

The truth was, I didn’t want to go back. After a glimpse of comfort and care, home felt like the last place I wanted to be. And if Peter was offering me an escape, even just for one more night, who was I to turn it down?

[melblogsgfreethruptsd]

[smile-files]

randall and henry are likened to brothers constantly in this game, which makes it kind of ridiculous that i never picked up on that as a kid. of course, it doesn't necessarily mean they do see each other as siblings, and certainly the way they were raised wouldn't automatically make them siblings regardless (they aren't biologically related and henry wasn't adopted, per se), but the idea that they have a brotherly relationship is certainly there.

to that end, there's nothing inherently incestuous about seeing henry and randall as a romantic pairing, as their status as brothers is entirely dependent on whether or not they see each other that way, something which isn't stated in the clearest of terms. i certainly would harbor no ill-will against the ship or those who ship it...

though having come this far in my miracle mask rewatch, and knowing that at the end of the day the most important things are randall's compassion for henry and henry's dedication to randall (and not any potential romance therein), i'm inclined to shift my personal view of them: to see them as brothers more than a couple. that's sort of awkward, considering how i've posted and reblogged ranhen stuff frequently up until now, but it's really no big deal. there's nothing wrong with it, as i had a different view of them then, but going forward i'd be posting about them in a different light!

and anyway, it's easy enough to reframe my thoughts on them... their relationship is still just as heartwarming and heartbreaking...

imagine you're henry, a small, sensitive little boy. you live in the household of the wealthy ascots, but they didn't adopt you: you're their servant, not their son... and because of that, you have to constantly see yourself as below them, even the ascot kid who's your age. naturally, your self-esteem starts incredibly low... except, for some reason, the ascot kid - a boy named randall - treats you not just as a regular child, someone on his level, but as your brother. it's inexplicable, but it's true, and as a token of this, he's given you his favorite toy robot: a symbol of his love for you. even if his parents will never treat you as their son, he continues to treat you as his brother.

randall takes you on adventures with his friends angela and dalston, the former of which he has a crush on. when with randall, you feel like you're more than just a servant: you feel on top of the world. despite being sensitive and timid otherwise, you're excited to go on adventures with him, picking up some of randall's fervent love for treasure-hunting. perhaps you feel like nothing without him, as he's the only person who has shown you love...

unfortunately, once you become a teenager, mr ascot pulls you away from your childhood, your education, and your friends to train to be a butler: he sees your diligence, your obedience, your thoughtfulness, and thinks you more valuable to the household as a servant than the flighty randall is as a son. now the only person your age you can ever interact with is randall, and then only when he's home... all you have is the boy who chose to be your brother... when he is around, he talks to you about archeology: he knows how important you are, how wise you are, and you help him uncover secrets relating to the mask of chaos, a relic massively important to him. you're more than willing to help randall with this. after all, he chose to be your brother. you'd do anything for him. one part the feeling of subservience instilled in you from your life as a servant, one part the feeling of loyalty towards someone who made you feel worth anything... you want to be his servant, if it means he'll treat you like you aren't one.

but every time randall leaves the house, he spends hours with angela and another boy, a new boy... a boy named hershel... a boy who, like you, balances out randall's energy and ambition. you feel he has taken your place in your absence. you spend every day working menial tasks for mr ascot: when randall is gone, you are nothing but a servant, waiting to be a brother again. and while you are a servant, hershel gets to be with randall. you don't like hershel very much... why, he doesn't even want to go on adventures with randall. absurd! why even be his friend?

randall wants to unearth the treasures of the azran, with the mask of chaos guiding him towards glory. he feels it is his destiny, and in fulfilling it, he would impress angela's parents enough to let her marry him. he needs this, so you need him to get it - and so you help randall prepare for his expedition. you wish to join him, instead of that hershel boy... you long to adventure with your dear randall again, but beyond that, you don't trust hershel to keep him safe. you could keep him safe. after all, if you're with randall, you feel on top of the world, and you'd do anything for him. but hershel? you don't trust hershel, and so you worry about randall. so long as you can't be there with him, perhaps he shouldn't even go... he promises to be safe, and that this will be his last expedition. you trust him, because he has chosen to be your brother, and he loves you, and he'd never lie. you trust him, unlike hershel. you help him sneak out of the house, even if it means seeing him leave with hershel into a wilderness you cannot help him through.

you think randall must come back, for he would never break a promise. and anyway, you cannot fathom life without him. for he chose to be your brother, in a house that used you as a machine. at least while he's away, while you're forced to be nothing but a servant again, you can await his return, and the return of your worth as a person with him... you couldn't bear to be a machine forever... a robot executing tasks until its power runs out...

hershel returns. randall is gone, he says. you don't believe him. you hate him. randall is alive. hershel gave up on him. but randall never gave up on you, so you cannot give up on him. randall is alive. he must come back, for he promised. life without him is impossible. thus, so long as you live, he must be alive as well. and so you dedicate your life - a life which you feel is only worth anything because of him - to randall's life. you are willing to make yourself into a machine, into a robot, to execute this task: loving randall so much, as he'd loved you, that you bring him back from the dead.

and so you spend half your life dedicated to him. you "marry" angela so she doesn't have to marry dalston, ready to be with randall again when he returns. you spend time and money searching the ruins he disappeared in yourself, then organizing search parties to do the same; all of the ruins' treasure is spent on looking for randall, or for building a beautiful city for him to live in when he returns. it is all for him. you work yourself to the bone, just as his parents had done to you. you are randall's servant, for he chose to be your brother. you live for him, for without him you have no life: without him, you are a broken toy robot.

someone has come to destroy monte d'or, the beautiful city you made for randall. and this someone, this "masked gentleman", keeps pinning the blame on you, as if you'd destroy any of this... no, you'd been saving it all for randall... and hershel, who has returned on angela's request to solve the mystery of the masked gentleman, has the gall to blame you for this all. how dare he? not only does he take your place at randall's side, he never even knew the place he was taking... you hate hershel. you only comply to his requests to save monte d'or.

and hark... the masked gentleman is randall himself. you were right, he wasn't dead, even though you were irrational and desperate for thinking so. and he hates you. he thinks you took his angela, and his fortune, and his family, and his glory. he was manipulated into seeing you this way, after almost two decades of amnesia. and he hates you. and he regrets ever choosing to be your brother. but you cannot be mad at him... you can barely even explain yourself... you're lucky hershel is able to do that for you. if not for him, you would never have gotten your brother back.

how lucky you are... giving up your personhood for so long really paid off, and now you just might let randall make you feel like a person again...

[littlebigmouse]

Something about AU Vander telling AU Powder she's "too smart to spend her life in a bar" vs telling AU Ekko (as far as he knows, anyway) that he thinks he'd be "running this place soon" makes the latter almost seem like an insult.