#what is the tag for the pink fella. i have no idea

[valgeristik]

here's some doodles while the angsty comics inspired by a specific song is still cooking in my brain

Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser List E-sims for Gaza

uhh a couple of closeups bcs i realize its a lil hard to read some parts

[fizzigigsimmer]

Wip Tuesday ✨ tagged by the ever-amazing @lovebillyhargrove who is a doll and lol just realized I copy pasta'd their really sweet message.

I am so late to the party as usual, but happy to share some teases.

WIP 1: Billy did not make it home before lunch, or to escort Steve to the church as he’d hoped. In fact, Billy was in danger of being very late to meet the preacher and Robin Buckley was entirely to blame.

lol three guesses what that's from.

WIP 2: Steve is worried Billy Hargrove may be his soulmate. It consumes his thoughts, and yet he still has figured out a way forward by the time the bonfire begins. Maybe he's panicking over nothing and the reason he can't stop thinking about Hargrove is like pink elephants - the harder he tries not to think about Billy the more he's going to. And they're not soulmates and Steve is just freaking himself out over a few coincidences. They go to the same school. Of course they bump into each other. It doesn't have to mean anything. The trouble is he has no idea how to ago about checking either way. Something tells him he can't just go up and ask.

WIP3: "When is that fella of yours gonna make an honest man out of you?" Dot asks, just as Gator reaches for the pans stacked on top of the fridge, and he jerks, pulling too quickly, sending a cookie sheet clattering toward the kitchen floor - he just manages to save it. Scotty raises the cover of her book to hide her face, but his ears work just fine and he hears her snicker.

"What do you mean?" he gripes as he fumbles with the cookware. This is what he got for trying to do something nice for his boyfriend on his birthday. "Billy's already registered as my dominant."

Which means if Gator really does burn the house down trying to make this fucking cake, Billy can have the honor of identifying his barbecued remains and save Dot the trouble.

Zero pressure tags: @adelacreations @imsodishy @spaceofentropy @robthegoodfellow @half-oz-eddie

[beefromanoff]

Tempting Fate Ch. 1

summary: a flashback to 1940's Brooklyn, 2022 Boston, and an introduction to our leading lady, Evie Langston.

author's note: OKAY GUYS, you asked for this! the post with my little drabble and idea for a Stucky x Reader fic got so much love that here I am. fair warning if you haven't read my other works (which you should) I LOVE to set a scene and I love a slow burn. I'll definitely get to the good parts earlier in this story than in my other two, but this is going to be spicy AND plot driven.

masterlist

tag list: tag list: @yiiiikesmish @sunflower1290 @barnescamboy @thedisc0spider @bitchy-bi-trash @kulteule @kandis-mom @i-mushi @unknown-writings

Chapter 1

1940s, Brooklyn

The air was filled with the sounds of laughter and the scent of popcorn. Brightly colored banners flapped in the breeze as children ran around, and the mechanical whirring and dinging of carnival games echoed through the street. Among the bustling crowd, three friends stood out.

Ginny Langston was the center of attention, her auburn hair catching the light. She always was. Even at sixteen, her features were striking, catching stares from grown men passing by. Unbeknownst to Ginny, however, who only had eyes for her two best friends. Her stomach hurt from laughing so hard as she watched Steve Rogers attempt to win a prize at one of the booths. Their best friend, Bucky Barnes, stood beside her, a smirk on his face.

“Alright, Stevie, that was my last quarter.” He winked. “Try not to shit the bed again.”

“Bucky!” Ginny giggled, smacking his arm. “I believe in you, Stevie!”

Steve blushed, his determination clear. “I’ll get it right this time, just watch.” Eyes narrowed in concentration, he pinched the dart between his fingers and let it fly. With a loud pop the balloon on the other side of the booth burst, sending the trio into an eruption of cheers.

“Yay, Stevie!” She jumped down from her seat on the edge of the booth, bouncing over to Steve. She threw her arms around his neck, feeling his skin flush. “Can I pick? Oh, please let me pick!” 

“Be my guest,” He gestured to the rack of stuffed animals, cheeks still pink from her embrace. 

After selecting a floppy pink stuffed bunny, Ginny skipped over. Her eyes sparkled as she looked between the two boys. “How lucky am I,” she drawled playfully, “To have not one, but two handsome fellas to win me prizes?” To emphasize her point, she waggled the bunny and the stuffed bear Bucky had won by knocking down a tower of bottles with a baseball.

The boys shared a look as she linked one arm through each of theirs and led them further into the fair. The same understanding they’d had for the five years of their friendship passed between them. They both adored Ginny, but neither wanted to ruin the bond they had with her—or each other. 

So, despite the chemistry, despite the daydreams…they resisted temptation. It worked well, their trio. Friendship before anything. The laughter and memories they shared didn’t seem to be possible with anyone else. If this was all they ever were to each other –– best friends –– none of them would mind. But that didn’t stop the occasional late night thought from creeping into one of their heads…wondering what would happen if that invisible line in the sand were ever crossed.

Fall Semester, 2022

Boston

The ballroom was a vision of opulence, adorned with glittering chandeliers and rich, velvety drapes. MIT’s alumni gala was in full swing, a celebration of the brightest minds and most generous benefactors. The room buzzed with conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the beats of a live jazz band. Alumni, staff, and donors alike mingled with current students. It was an exclusive event for students to be invited to, needing a recommendation from a professor to be added to the guest list. At one of the most prestigious schools in the country, the competition never stopped. Evie Langston had been thrilled when her invite arrived, especially considering she was only a sophomore. This event was typically reserved for upperclassmen and graduate students, with only a handful of younger students having received an invite ever. 

She had been thrilled, but not surprised. 

Since her arrival in Boston, she’d been making waves. Big, tsunami-esque waves. 

For the child-prodigy community, she’d seemingly come out of nowhere. She graduated high school on time, not early. Her parents were insistent that she make the most of her high school experience, maintaining friendships, attending prom, walking with her classmates across the stage. They’d given her every opportunity to learn and grow, but not at the expense of her childhood. She’d gotten early acceptance to MIT as a freshman in high school after winning an engineering contest with such prestige that she was immediately contacted by a patent lawyer to protect her innovation. It was her first patent filed. She was 14 years old. 

At MIT, Evie had quickly distinguished herself as one of the brightest minds on campus. Her freshman year, she had been part of a team that developed a revolutionary nanotechnology application for medical devices, leading to a paper published in a leading scientific journal. Her contribution was so significant that she was invited to speak at several conferences, which she politely declined, allowing an older member of the team to represent them. It wasn’t that she was opposed to speaking, it’s just that she felt like there were better uses of her time than kissing ass and galavanting around a room full of the most pompous, self-important assholes of all time. Her name was listed first on the publication, and that was enough of an ego stroke for her. Especially since it drove the rest of the all-male team absolutely insane. 

Her sophomore year had only seen her rise higher. She had spearheaded a project that created a new type of lightweight, high-strength material, earning her a prestigious research grant and the attention of several major textile companies. Her professors often remarked on her uncanny ability to solve problems that stumped even the most seasoned researchers. She had an intuitive grasp of complex systems, a knack for seeing connections others missed, and a relentless drive that kept her working long after everyone else had called it a night. Plus, her ability to pivot between specialties like she was switching tabs on a browser was unheard of. She could go from artificial intelligence programming to biochemical engineering to robotics and not bat an eye.

Outside the classroom, she balanced her rigorous academic schedule with her job as a bartender. It was a role that seemed incongruous for someone of her intellect but was, in fact, a deliberate choice. It kept her grounded, connected to a world beyond equations, experiments, and giant fucking egos. It was there, in the bustling atmosphere of the bar, that she honed her people skills, learning how to read people, how to manage conflict, and how to charm even the most difficult customers. She loved being around her peers at MIT, the shared interest and the constant desire for progress, but she couldn’t stand their larger-than-life self image. Typically, she was opposed to sweeping generalities, but after a year and a half at this school, she felt it was a damn near foolproof hypothesis. 

So, to the judgment of her classmates, she became a bartender. In an environment where everyone was either funded by the deep pockets of their families or a hefty scholarship, she was one of the few students who worked a job. Let alone such an unimpressive job. Ironically, the scorn of her peers made her love the job even more. The fact that they were losing grant money to a girl alone was enough to make most of them need to up their dosage, but a girl who spent her evenings serving up gin and tonics in a low cut tank top? Berzerk. 

The best part? She didn’t even need the money. 

Her parents were upper middle class, back in the midwest. Her dad was a partner at an accounting company and her mom had stayed home with her and her siblings. They’d spent summers on vacation, not the Hamptons or yacht-style vacations that some of her classmates had been raised on, but nice vacations nonetheless. They were more than comfortable. So when she’d sold her first patent in high school, her parents had put her earnings into a trust. One she could access when she was officially out of college. They’d had every intention of funding her education, but it was clear they’d never have to break out their checkbooks. She’d been offered a full ride to just about any school in the country. 

There was only ever one option for her, though. The alma mater of the one and only Tony Stark. The Da Vinci of our time. The merchant of death. Iron Man. She’d wanted to be him since she was old enough to find his interviews on YouTube on the family computer. Much to her parents’ chagrin of course, who’d hoped their nine year old daughter would have found a more…palatable role model. It was he who inspired her love of engineering and innovation. It was he who taught her to be unapologetically confident. It was he who caused her to hang an MIT pennant on her wall and refuse to take it down. Even to this day, it hung above her espresso machine in her little apartment above the bar she worked at. 

It was he who delivered the most kick-ass, jaw-dropping, profane keynote address earlier that day. She’d been front row for the whole thing, hanging on his every word. It was her intention to speak to him after the address, but he’d been swarmed by overzealous ass-kissers that she didn’t feel like wading through. She’d seen him up close, and that was good enough for her. It was enough to make her want to get back in the lap and continue her work on nanotechnology right that second, but she knew she couldn’t pass up the gala. Not when her professors had personally advocated for her invitation. 

So, here she was. Evie stood near the edge of the room, her eyes scanning the crowd. She had dressed immaculately for the occasion, wearing a sleek, midnight blue cocktail dress that hugged her figure and highlighted her fiery red hair, which she’d styled into soft waves that cascaded down her back. Occasionally, a professor would usher some big-name investor over to her, making introductions and raving about her brilliance. So she would smile, put on her best impression of someone who gave a shit about their company and what their mission was, and charm her way through the rest of the conversation. At the end, she’d add their business card to the collection piling up in her purse, never to be looked at again. 

There was only one job she was interested in taking after college, and if that wasn’t on the table, she’d start her own damn tech company. 

She took a sip of her sparkling water, glancing around the room at the clusters of people deep in meaningless conversation. A commotion towards the middle of the room drew her attention. Her gaze landed on Tony Stark, who was making his way through the crowd with his usual effortless charm, evading those who wanted everything from a selfie to a donation to a job. He was dressed in a tailored black suit, a whiskey glass clutched in one hand and a cigar in the other, openly defying the no smoking rule. 

Looking around, Tony spotted her, his eyes locking onto her bright red hair and striking features once again. With a roguish grin, he made his way over to her, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease and a dismissive attitude. As he approached, Evie straightened her posture, her heart pounding in her chest. No fucking way. 

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Tony said, his voice dripping with charm and mischief as he looked her up and down. She could have sworn she felt his eyes on her body like they were hands. “I couldn’t help but notice you earlier at the keynote. Front row, right?”

Evie nodded, a half-smile playing on her lips. “Good memory. It was an incredible speech, Mr. Stark. Truly inspiring.”

“Please, call me Tony,” he replied with a grin. “And might I say, you’re a breath of fresh air here with all these bad toupees and escapees from mom’s basement. The red hair, this dress—” He looked her over again. “Quite the combination. You certainly know how to make an impression.”

Evie smiled, meeting his flirtation with poise. “Why, thank you, Tony. I’ve always believed in standing out rather than blending in.”

“Well, you’re definitely standing out,” Tony said, his eyes lingering on her. “So! What’s a dazzling individual like yourself doing at a place like this? I’d imagine there are more lively places to spend your Friday night than this snoozefest.”

“They say this is the event to be at if you want to shake the right hands.” She offered a teasing smile. 

“How’s that been going for you?” 

“I’ve shaken a lot of hands tonight, but not the one I came here for.” A coy smile. 

He ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth, assessing her. “Would I be living up to the egomaniac allegations if I assume you’re talking about me?”

“Yes, but you’d also be correct.” 

He grinned, shifting his drink to his left hand and offering her his right. “Tony Stark, Owner of Stark Industries. Benefactor and celebrated alum of this fine institution. Patron of the arts. Not really, but it sounded like it fit.” 

“Evie Langston,” Another small smile. “I’m a sophomore, studying engineering, but having a hard time narrowing down a specialty.”

“Engineering, huh? A woman after my own heart,” Tony said, clearly impressed. “Wait, Langston, Langston…you were the one who filed a patent for that new material. What do you call it?”

“Nanoflex.” Evie took a sip of her drink, her eyes never leaving his.

“Nanoflex, right, that’s it. I tell you what, you’ve been giving a lot of my engineers hell these past few months.” 

“Is that so?” She raised an eyebrow. 

“Unfortunately yes, it is so. I’ve had my whole team working on an alternative material for us to use in the manufacturing of combat suits and after months of research and resource allocation, and way more money than I should have funneled into it –– they’re still lightyears behind you.” He gave her a mock-irritated look. “And you, Evie Langston, hold the patent for the thing I’ve had the brightest minds in the industry working tirelessly on. To no avail or benefit to me.” 

“Would you like me to apologize?” 

“I’d like you to come work for me.” His voice was decisive. “Say the word, I’ll fire the whole lot of them and you can take the whole lab. Seriously, paint it pink, hang up a boy band poster, I don’t give a shit. I’ve gotta have you.” 

She ignored the way her stomach flipped at his words. “Tempting…as that may be, I’d like to finish my education first.” 

He leaned in closer. “Don’t tell me you’re really learning from these yahoos. When I was here I felt like I should take advantage of the office hours just to teach my professors a thing or two about their subject matter.”

Evie laughed. “It’s not so bad. I’ve always had a difficult time finding things that challenge me. This isn’t much different.” She waved a hand. “At least they can throw a party.” 

“Oh, sweet Evie,” He scoffed. “Let me court you. Professionally, of course. Unless you’re open to other possibilities––kidding, I’m not kidding.” She couldn’t help but chuckle at his candor and casual demeanor. He was funnier in person than in the interviews she’d all but committed to memory. “Come to New York, I’ll send the jet for you, let me show you what we’re all about. I’ll show you a real laboratory, show you what could be yours. While we’re at it, I’ll show you a real party, too. Unless things have changed here, the parties could be confused for a lively wake.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, this is pretty much exactly the scenario I’ve been manifesting for the past decade, but what’s in this for you? Something tells me you don’t come here to recruit talent.” 

“No, I come here because my delightful CEO, Ms. Pepper Potts, threatens to donate my vintage car collection to a museum if I don’t show up every year.” He shrugged, sipping his drink. “As for what’s in it for me, that’s easy. Either you find me delightfully charming and decide to remind me why smart girls are the freakiest in the sack, or you fall in love with the endless resources and free reign over innovation and decide to come work for me. Seems like a win-win situation.”

Evie grinned, sipping her drink to hide the flush in her cheeks. She wasn’t a stranger to being prepositioned, but by Tony Stark? The temptation knotted in her stomach and she was grateful she’d opted for sparkling water, rather than something that might impair her judgment further. 

“Deal.” 

“Deal?” 

“Deal,” She laughed. “I’ll hear you out. After all, it’s a win-win, right?” 

“Every bit as smart as you’re cracked up to be.” He gestured to her almost empty drink. “What are you drinking? Next round is on me.”

“I’m not drinking, actually.” She held the glass up. “Club soda.” 

“Straight edge?”

“Wanted to keep a clear mind, you know, in case I met someone…important.” Evie smirked. 

“What a shame.” He downed the rest of his drink. “Well, the drinks here blow anyways. You’d think with all the donor money, they’d be able to afford top shelf, but I guess not. You happen to know if that old bar on McClaren is still open?” 

“It is very much open, at least it was when I finished my shift last night.” She grinned at his double take. 

“Woah, woah. Wait. You’re telling me you hold a patent that many interested parties, myself included, would pay well into the seven-figure range for, and you’re moonlighting as a bartender?”

“Something like that.” 

“You are full of surprises, Ms. Langston.” 

“You don’t know the half of it, Mr. Stark.” 

“Well, forgive me for being so forward, but if I stay at this party one more minute then I’m at severe risk of becoming clinically depressed and doing something destructive.” He held his arm out. “Care to join me for an after party, hopefully with fewer sticks-in-asses?” 

“Lead the way.” She took his arm and followed him towards the side door, fully aware of what people would say when they saw the pretty redhead leaving on the arm of the womanizing billionaire. 

Let them talk. 

Leaving with Tony Stark turned into one of the best decisions of her college career. His driver, a man aptly named Happy, was waiting for them outside. They’d made the short drive across town to The Bostonian, or The Bos, as the locals so affectionately called it. The champagne they’d drank on the way over probably cost more than the whole stock of liquor at the bar. When they arrived at the curb, Happy had rushed around to open the door for them. Downing the rest of the glass, Evie savored the feeling of warmth bubbling up in her stomach as she strode through the oh-so-familiar doors, Tony right behind her. 

When she walked in, she saw her best friend, Jade, right in the thick of the Friday evening rush. Flirting with a customer as she popped the lids off of two beers for another, she was a natural. The kind of bartender that every regular had a crush on. Her attention flicked to the door, where she clocked Evie and Tony right behind her. Recognition, confusion, then excitement all flashed across her face. 

“What’s up, E!” She yelled over the clamor. A handful of regulars turned their attention to her, whistling at her evening attire. It was a far cry from the jeans and tank top she usually wore, but judging from the tips she made, no one was complaining about her standard uniform. 

As they strode further into the bar, all attention turned from Evie to Tony. A slow chant of “Iron Man! Iron Man!” broke out around the crowded room, with Tony not even trying to look modest. After a few moments, he raised his hands in the air to quiet everyone down. 

“Alright, alright, I know you all probably think that if you flatter me, I’ll whip out my card and buy a round of shots for everyone,” He gave a disapproving look around the room, then reached in his lapel pocket. “...and I will.”

The room erupted into thunderous cheering, with the Iron Man chant coming back in full swing. Tony put his hand on Evie’s lower back, guiding her through the chaos to the bar. Two regulars immediately vacated their seats, clapping Tony on the back. 

Jade put two shot glasses down in front of them, leaning over the bar to give a generous view down her shirt. She was the one who’d taught Evie that if she wanted to make double the tips, leave the bra at home. It seemed that tonight was a night she wanted to make double the tips. 

“Now, Mr. Stark, with all bar-wide orders, there is a mandatory fifty percent tip included for the bartender.” She winked, sliding his glass across the table. 

“Only fifty?” He made a face, downed the shot with zero reaction, and met her gaze again. “You can have whatever tip you want, and that’s not limited to just cash.” 

She smirked. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Evie rolled her eyes, grinning at Jade’s shameless flirting before downing her own shot. She sucked the lime to take the edge off, but her eyes still watered. 

“Alright kiddo, this is what happens when you roll with me.” Tony squeezed her shoulder before signaling for another round. “Consider this the beginning of your official Stark industries recruitment period.” 

______

The next morning, Evie met Jade for their usual Saturday morning walk to their favorite coffee shop. When Evie took the job at The Bos, Jade had been a welcome bonus. She wasn’t a student at MIT, despite being pretty smart. She’d grown up incredibly wealthy, definitely the Hamptons and yacht type. Her family had pushed her toward Ivy League education, toward the path of marrying whichever eligible bachelor was best suited to take over her father’s hedge fund one day. She told her family she was attending Harvard, faked a transcript whenever she needed to, and blamed her lack of contact on how inundated with her studies she was. Evie had asked her once what she planned to do in two years when her family expected to attend her graduation, and she’d simply shrugged and said she’d figure it out. 

She was a breath of fresh air in comparison to everyone who took themselves way too fucking seriously. Having Harvard and MIT in the same city often felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the atmosphere, being stored up in the massive heads of all those that studied there. 

The walk was later than usual, with the sun already high in the sky. Last night’s escapades had stretched well into the night, with Evie ultimately thankful they’d been at the bar she lived above, as she stumbled up the steps at an unholy hour. When she’d woken up this morning, her head was pounding and she was still in her cocktail dress. Even now, in her crewneck and sweatshorts, she could feel the ghost of the corset’s boning pressing into her. 

Evie yawned, stretching her arms above her head as they walked. "I can't believe how late we stayed out. My head is still spinning."

Jade grinned, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "Yeah, but it was worth it. I haven't had that much fun in ages. Tony Stark sure knows how to liven up a place."

Evie laughed, shaking her head. "He's definitely a character. Ordering shots for the entire bar? He definitely lived up to his reputation."

“Oh, he absolutely did.” Jade winked and looped her arm through Evie’s as they walked. 

Evie raised an eyebrow. "Did I miss something when I went up to bed?"

Her grin widened. "Let's just say, Tony Stark is very generous in more ways than one."

"Jade, you did not!" She burst out laughing, shaking her head.

Jade shrugged, looking pleased with herself. "Hey, a girl’s gotta eat."

“I saw the tip jar before we even sat down, you’re not in danger of starving anytime soon.” 

“Hey, he said I could have whatever tip I wanted.” She bumped Evie’s hip with her own. “I just happened to want a big one.” 

“Jesus Christ, Jade,” She pretended to cover her ears. “At least wait until I’m not fucking hungover and nauseous.” 

“Fine, get your little foo-foo croissant, but then I’m sparing no details.” 

They reached the coffee shop and ordered their usuals, then found a quiet spot outside to sit and enjoy their drinks. 

Evie took a sip of her coffee, feeling life slowly coming back to her, even as Jade told a story so salacious she felt slightly guilty for listening to it in the daylight. "Well, I’m glad you had a good time. It sounds like he exceeded expectations."

“You could say that,” Jade took a bite of Evie’s croissant. “It doesn’t hurt that my father absolutely despises him. Not that he’ll ever know, of course, but it made my night that much more enjoyable.” 

Shaking her head, Evie took the pastry back. “Daddy’s little law student, hard at work.” 

“Something like that. Anywho, why don’t you tell me why the hell you showed up at the bar with Tony Stark in the first place?” 

“Well, we met at the gala, we chatted, long story short –– he offered me a job.”

Jade nearly choked on her coffee. "What? Are you serious?"

Evie grinned. "Yeah, he was familiar with my work on Nanoflex and offered me a job on the spot. I said I preferred to finish school first, but he told me to consider my Stark Industries recruitment to have officially begun."

Jade's jaw dropped. "Evie, that’s amazing! But wait, why the hell wouldn’t you go now? Don’t tell me that piece of paper really means that much to you. You’re basically already a bazillionaire, you don’t need to pander for funding like the rest of those assholes do.” 

Evie chuckled. "I don’t know, I guess I just don’t want to rush things. No, I don’t really need the degree, I suppose. I know my parents will be so excited to come up for a graduation, to tell their friends their daughter graduated from MIT, blah blah blah. They’ve always been so pro-living life. If I drop out of college to go to work, even at my dream job, my mom will lose so much sleep thinking I’m chained to a desk slaving away for the rest of time. Plus, everything I made before I was eighteen is in a trust I can only access if I actually graduate. So, here I am.” She elbowed Jade. “Plus, is it really so bad to keep slinging drinks with you for another two years?” 

“No, no it is not.” Jade raised her coffee cup. “To Evie Langston, genius, future Stark Industries standout, mediocre bartender, and the best wingwoman a girl could ask for.” 

Evie raised her coffee cup, laughing. 

“I swear, Eves, no one is better at getting what they want than you. I don’t know what kind of witchcraft you’re practicing, but I want in.” 

“I’ll bring my spellbook to the bar tonight.” She winked. 

Present Day

Evie stood in front of her mirror, adjusting the collar of her blazer. Her vibrant red hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail, the kind that gave you a splitting headache by lunchtime. Knowing she’d regret it later, she doubled down on her chosen hairstyle, knowing it accentuated her cheekbones. Yet another gift bestowed upon her through the gene pool, along with her green eyes, now sparkling with anticipation. Today was the day she’d start her new job at Stark Industries. Today was the day that years –– decades of her hard work would come to fruition. 

All the years being ahead in school, seeking a challenge and never quite finding it. Years of boredom and near stifling education, causing her to get into some trouble. MIT had pushed her just enough to keep her mind occupied, and once she’d officially received her offer from Stark Industries during her sophomore year, the rest of her education had been a formality leading up to this moment.

Now –– just as he’d promised two years ago, there was a job waiting for her after graduation. She’d walked in her ceremony just a week prior, insisting on starting her job right away. The only reason she’d allowed a week in between was to fly home and humor her mother with an over the top graduation party, and then settle into this new apartment just two blocks away from Stark Tower. It was still somewhat sparse, not quite lived-in. The problem with luxury apartments is that they always felt too clinical, too impersonal. A little part of her felt nostalgic for the little apartment she’d lived in above the bar back in Boston, the owner of The Bos giving her a break in rent since she bartended part time. It was small, cramped, and always had a lingering liquor smell wafting up through the floor, but it was the first place she’d lived in on her own. This new apartment was about ten times the size of that little shoebox, but lacked the charm. She was somewhat new to the level of income she’d found herself bringing in, between the numerous patents she’d sold and the consulting gigs she’d taken throughout college, and finally having access to her trust now that her degree was finalized. Plus, with the Stark Industries salary, she was bringing in more money than she knew what to do with. She made a mental note to hire an interior designer and pick up an extra large coffee on her way to the office.

Meandering around the room, she put gold hoops in her ears, pulled her purse onto her shoulder, and slid her laptop into her bag. Behind her, the phone buzzed on her nightstand. She picked it up, a smirk forming as she read the message from Tony Stark.

Ready to knock their socks off, Red? Just remember, no blowing up the lab on your first day.

Evie typed back quickly, grinning. No promises, Stark. Hope your insurance is comprehensive.

She took a deep breath, giving herself a final once-over. With a confident smile, she grabbed her bag and headed out the door. As she locked up, she tried her best not to smile like an idiot.

[nine-of-words]

Something Borrowed (Part Ten)

M Gargoyle x M Reader

PREVIOUS || STORY TAG || NEXT

Wordcount: 5127

Content Warnings: Discussion of a Breakup

The horrors have been numerous and persistent for me lately, so this part took its sweet time getting written. Not much else to say about this chapter, other than I’m very excited to write the next one!!

It seems that things are determined to go sideways today. 

“Sorry to drop all of this on ya so early, but I knew you’d be awake.” Your sister’s voice comes through the speaker of your device.

You are indeed awake. You haven’t been sleeping well lately, despite it feeling like what you do the most these days- no idea why that would be- so you were already up and slowly trudging through your morning routine. But now you’re distracted with the call, going through making yourself a desperately needed cup of coffee mostly by feel in your dimly lit apartment kitchen.

“It’s okay- So, how exactly did this happen?”

“She took a wee tumble down the stairs. Got up in the middle of the night to get water, fell ass over kettle.”

“Oh, spirits. But you said it wasn’t serious, right?”

“Eh. Fractured her wrist, or so the doctor says. Right, Ma?” You hear a bit of noise in the background that sounds remarkably like your mother being quietly muttering in a displeased manner. “She’ll be right as rain soon enough. But she’s going to be in the cast for a tick.”

“Do I need to book a flight?”

“Hmm. You know we love to see ya- but nah. It's really not all that dire. Think she's tired of all the fuss by now, really.” She explains, before immediately switching into compulsory older sibling teasing. “Plus won't your new fella miss you? Unless you want to bring him along to meet what he's got to look forward to joining up with.”

“Haha… Yeah, you’re right. I suppose you’ll just have to wait…” You haven’t told them he’s not exactly your fella at the moment. What would you even say?

After a bit more conversation, Emer puts your mother on, and you speak to her for a short while. It assuages your worry a little, but not nearly enough to take the edge off. Though she's adamant you don't let her little mishap scare you into making sudden travel plans, you can't help but let it add to your ratings worries.

Maybe… you should go home?

You hang up your voci and look down at the brewed coffee that’s just started to drip through the filter. In your absent minded state, you’ve managed to put the exact mug you’ve been avoiding into the machine.

But there it is, the pink and white curves of ceramic reminding you of everything you're trying to push out of your mind.

You let out a long, frustrated sigh, pausing to stare vacantly at the mug.

Maybe putting an ocean between you and here will help you forget what you could have right now instead, if you weren't cursed.

You have all day to sit on it, you suppose, and can make a decision later. But you do have a business to run in the meantime, so you return to the process of adding your usual milk and sugar. 

It doesn’t help the bitter taste at all today.

Things don’t really go much better for you the longer the day progresses. 

“This is too sweet,” The older woman across the counter says, brandishing the mostly eaten cupcake in its paper lining. “I want a refund.”

“Well, it's a cupcake, m’am. It is mostly sugar…” You don’t even have the energy to muster your usual level of pleasantness. You barely keep from grimacing as you ring up the refund, just to get this person out of your hair.

Your customers are usually not this problematic, but you’re beginning to think that no one is having a good day today. You can deal with grumpy or picky people, but usually they’re not quite so many of them in a concentrated blast. Every little interaction is finding its way under your skin, and that’s not even taking into account how hard it is to concentrate and get any meaningful progress done.

Though, this is a task you’ve been pointedly avoiding that you’ll have to start sooner or later, today.

You’ve got to finish putting together Devin and Trevor’s cake- if you want it to be solid enough to put flowers in before delivery tomorrow night, which is rapidly approaching the longer you dawdle.

As in, nearly can be measured in hours instead of days soon.

It was different when it was just… anonymous cake layers you were cutting out and leveling. That could’ve been for anyone’s cake! But the more personality that goes into it, the more the subtle, nagging grief makes it difficult to work on.

You sigh and glob a stabilizing dollop of the vanilla buttercream- Trevor's choice- onto the base with your offset spatula.

It’s not as if you’re jealous that your ex is getting married at this point. You’re far past the stage of wanting him back by now. It just… all seems so unfair. Hopeless. He was able to wound you so deeply when he left- and just when you thought you had healed and moved on, carved out some new happiness for yourself- that got taken away, too.

Why should he get to be happy when you’re on the short end of the stick again?

You center a cake layer, then slather some more buttercream, spreading it out to make a glue for the next layer to adhere onto.

You’ll just have to think about it as Devin’s cake. It’s for your friend. That’s how you’ll get through this. You’ll do a good job, for your friend. Even if she’s marrying your ex, she should still get the best cake you can make for her, like you’d do for any other client.

Another layer of cake. A layer of elven berry compote that you made fresh yesterday- also Trevor’s choice, naturally. Another layer of cake. Then, repeat it all again.

As much as you try to rationalize that to yourself as you work through applying the crumb coat, you can’t help but realize you’ve been white-knuckling the spatula handle by time you’ve finished applying the buttercream.

Eventually, you have all of the crumb coated tiers ready on cake boards, to be given another coat and assembled after they’ve firmed up for a bit.

You mercifully shut the disassembled cake in the cooler, relieved that you don’t have to look at it for another few hours. Though, you have to hand it to yourself, even when your life is falling apart, you can make a bang-up gorgeous cake.

The demands of your business don’t stop just because you’re having a bad day and have other things to do, unfortunately. You’re not sure what portal to Hell has opened nearby, but it seems like all of the most awful customers have all decided to come to your shop today to take out their anger on you.

“No, we don’t do tiered pies here. I don’t even know if you’d be able to do that without making a mes- Well, okay. Have a nice day-” You say, though the person on the other end of the line has already hung up on you.

You turn to face the customer waiting at the counter, but before you can even greet them, they interrupt you with a snapping of their fingers.

“Where’s our waiter? I put our order into the kiosk twenty minutes ago and no one has even been by to so much as pour our water!”

“Oh, well, you can eat-in here, that’s what the seating is for, but we’re not a full service-”

“Ugh, fine! Just get me my order already, then.” The customer barks and you have to bite your tongue to restrain yourself from snapping back.

By time you reach another lull in activity and get back to work on Devin’s cake, your jaw and shoulders are fully tensed.

Since it’s slow, you take out the gumpaste. You have another tray of roses to sculpt so they can dry on time to place them tomorrow, so you might as well knock it out sooner than later.

Maybe none of this would be getting to you so much, but the full weight of the wedding being tomorrow is bearing down on you. The one saving grace is that Kirby will be there to distract you- at least you won’t be alone. You’ll deliver the cake, you’ll get through the ceremony, you’ll stay for a brief yet socially acceptable amount of time at the reception, and then you’ll go home and this whole excruciating ordeal will be over.

You just have to finish this cake and get through tonight first.

Only a few more hours until close. 

You can do this.

You make it another hour, rolling thinned pieces of sugary paste into delicate petals, before the bell door rings, and the person you see walk through the door gives you pause.

It’s not Carlyle, as you’ve been hoping it was every single time you hear the shop bell jingle since the last time you saw him. But it certainly looks like him, in everything but personal styling, and of course, the shape of the quartzose horns protruding from his brow.

Today it seems he’s left his body glitter at home, however. He’s dressed in relatively casual clothing; a hoodie (midriff still intact), untied slim joggers, immaculately clean sneakers. The difference is so staggering you might not have even recognized him as the same person, compared to his last visit, if he didn’t have Carlyle’s face; which you can now see clearly underneath his loose brown curls, this time not covered by the shadow of his hood.

“Hey.”

He gives you a tilt of his chin in acknowledgement and smiles an uncannily similar, fanged smile to the one you’ve grown accustomed to seeing. It’s a stab of pain, how sorely you miss it right now, and seeing it again, but just different enough to not be it.

“Uh. Hi, Marcus?” You say in a stilted manner, not really sure how to proceed. “You are… looking less gilded today than last time.”

“Hahahah, yeah. I didn’t have work last night, dude. No hangover!”

“Hah. Right…”

“But good to see you again, man! …I was wonderin-”

“Listen, if you’re here to deliver a message or something, I really can’t do this right now.” You cut him off, begging more than anything at this point to not have another thing go wrong or a twist of the knife today. You scrub at your face with your forearm to keep your hands sanitary, the deep pit of frustration starting to bubble out of you unintentionally. “And he knows to not-”

“Hey, no man, listen! It’s nothing like that.” He pats his curls down, the same way that his brother occasionally does with his dreadlocks when he’s smoothing out a misunderstanding. “He’d be PISSED if I knew he was here, hahah. He told me never to come here on my own after last time!”

“Well, maybe you should follow his instruction on that matter.” You say dryly and continue to roll the soft substance in silent judgement. “He usually knows what he’s talking about.”

Marcus seems to take this as a bad sign, his face twisting into a look of exasperation.

“Fine! Gimme a dozen cupcakes then. Fuck, make it any flavor, dude, I don’t even care.” He starts rifling through his pants pockets, finally pulling out his wallet, and then a card that he puts on the counter. It’s got his name printed on it, rather than Carlyle’s, so you suppose he’s gotten it replaced since the last time. “You’ve gotta talk to me if I’m a customer ‘n shit, right?”

“You know I do have the right to refuse service to you…?”

“Yeah man, but I don’t think you’re gonna! You’re too nice, from what I’ve heard.” Marcus says with the sort of shit-eating grin on his face that absolutely makes you want to refuse service to him, but with a vengeance.

“Well if you’re not here on your brother’s behalf…” You sigh in your own matching exasperated look and set down your gumpaste project to start boxing a dozen cupcakes. “Why are you here, then?”

“I’m gonna be totally honest with you, dude. He didn’t send me, but it is about him. I’m like, super worried about him.”

“Oh…” You can’t help yourself, you have to ask. “Is he alright…?” 

“Hell no! He’s all fucked up, man! The other night, I left at 8pm and he was still in the same spot at 11am when I got back in. Same book, same fit, same stale cup of coffee. He had sat still in the same place reading whatever nerd shit he was reading for so long that he deadass went half solid.” 

You can’t find the words to respond to that. The guilt gnaws at you like you gnaw at your bottom lip, but in a strange way, you feel validated that he’s still as messed up about things as you are.

“Look, whatever he did, it can’t be that bad, right? It’s Lyle!! He like, never fucks up like that.” He leans over the counter, talking with his hands in another show of familiar, yet foreign-in-this-context expression. He taps his chest with the fingertips of a spread hand for emphasis. “And I would know, ‘cuz I’M the family fuck up here. So, maybe you could like, just forgive him and junk? Make up or whatever?”

“It’s not…” You take a second to steady your breath. You’ve been trying to suppress these feelings for weeks, and now they’re getting dragged up so suddenly. “It’s not something he did. It’s… outside circumstances…”

You hesitate for a brief moment before you pick out the last of the random assortment; an orange and mixed spice flavor you found yourself trying out.

“That’s it? There’s no gettin’ around it, huh?”

“No. I'm sorry. It's complicated. I just can't.” You say with weakened conviction as you tape the box up, and then hoping to persuade yourself once again, add; “It’s better this way.”

“Right-” Marcus straightens up and rocks back and forth on his feet, his sneakers squeaking slightly against the tile with the motion. “Sorry if pushing was out of line, dude.”

“Don't worry about it- honestly, I'm sort of glad you showed up.” You smile, bittersweet. “It’s good that he has someone looking out for him.”

“Yeah.” Marcus smiles a conflicted smile back, then takes his cupcakes to go. “See you ‘round, dude.”

You find yourself having a silent argument with yourself as you finish the rest of the roses.

There’s the guilt, of course. Are you a bad person if you know that this separation is hurting you both, and yet you’re continuing to enforce it? Maybe you should have just let Marcus convince you to reach out?

Seeing someone with such familiar features has only made your heart ache that much more for what you’re missing.

Perhaps it’s for the best that you don’t have any customers in the shop at the moment, because they’d be able to clearly see you sneering at empty air and grumbling to yourself.

By the time you finish the last petal on the last rose of the tray, you’re no closer to having resolved your internal disagreement.

You put the roses away, and pull out your fully set, crumb-coated cake. Now just to put the final layer of frosting on, and then you’ll be done for the night.

As you set the tray down on the counter, your voci starts ringing in your pocket. You remove your gloves and answer the call, seeing that it’s Kirby. They’ve been checking in on you a lot more often lately, like you’re a sickly pet needing constant supervision. They're not entirely wrong.

You greet them as you put them on speaker. Then you wash up, and reglove as their voice comes through on the other end.

“So! How is your day going so far?”

“Oh, you know. Typical weekend customers. Ma broke her wrist.” You say flatly, smoothing out the buttercream on the top of the lowest cake tier with a spin of the stand with well-practiced motions.

“Oh no! That’s terrible! Is she okay??”

 “She’s fine, but it’s still stressful that I can’t be there to help out.”

Once you’re finished getting a perfectly even, level surface on the lowest tier, you begin the process again on a slightly smaller scale on the next largest cake tier.

“Mmm. Yeah, it must be, being so far away.”

“And Carlyle’s brother came into the shop earlier.” You continue, now lathing more buttercream onto the sides.

“Whaaaat??? No!! Glitter Boy?! Oh my SPIRITS you’ve gotta tell me all the details right now!”

“There’s not a lot to say, really. Told me Carlyle’s not taking it well either, and now I feel like a villain.”

“You’re not a villain,” Kirby sighs. “Sometimes things are just. Y’know. Messy.”

You continue to make your way through doing the final coat on the cake tiers, each one going progressively faster as they diminish in size.

“Oh, and how could I forget- I’m making a cake for my ex’s wedding that social pressure is forcing me to attend. So you know. The usual.”

“Hahah- Ooh, bummer. Well, when you put it like that, it does sound like, toooootally miserable! You’re having a pretty horrible day, and I’m… definitely not about to make it worse, hahah!!”

“Oh no.” You hiss through gritted teeth. “Something’s wrong, then?”

They laugh nervously, a little giggle-whimper that you can’t possibly be irritated with.

You’re silent as you begin to fill a piping bag with buttercream, waiting for Kirby to divulge their information.

“I MAY have some bad news.”

“Oh. Lovely. Just grand! More bad news is exactly what I need at this current moment.” You say, dripping with sarcasm.

“I know!!! Believe me, I know! But I wanted to tell you as soon as I found out.” Kirby sighs. “I just got out of a meeting with my boss and they’re sending me out of town on a case. I have to get on a red eye in a few hours.”

“But… the wedding is tomorrow…”

“Yeah, that would be the problem! But I can’t exactly tell my boss to fuck off and still have a job, y’know??? Soooooo. We are in. damage. control. mode!”

“It’s okay.” You say, it not really being okay at all, but not wanting to lash out at your friend who’s only ever tried to help you in any given situation. You’re simply too stunned to even start to panic.

“Nope! It’s ABSOLUTELY not! But I’ll be there in like, an hour!! I’ll bring dinner and we can totally figure out a plan B, okay? Or I guess plan C or D by now- But bestie, I don’t care if I have to HIRE an escort to take you to that wedding, you’re not going alone! Especially not because of stupid work interference!!”

“Hah- A-Alright.” You laugh weakly and speak through a sharp intake of air, but manage to not sound like you’re about to burst into tears, even though you desperately want to. “See you soon.”

The call ends, but you continue working, despite the rapidly expanding pit of terror in your gut and the sting at the back of your eyes.

This news, surprisingly, does not help your ability to finish this cake.

You keep going, but not without roadblocks. Your eyes screw closed in frustration and pain. Your teeth grit. Your hand clenches around the bag, nearly squeezing the frosting out of the back end of it.

As a small mercy, closing time finally comes and you turn off the light, though you leave the door unlocked, given you’re expecting Kirby sometime in the next hour or so.

You need to move on to piping some of the finer details- But you can't even think about piping an even line right now, not with the way your hand is trembling.

Still, you persist, pushing the bag back taut and re-twisting the open end. 

“Stop. Shaking.” You hiss out loud at yourself, your body refusing to obey even your own verbal instructions.

You just need to get this cake done. Is that so much to ask?

Kirby is coming over and you’ll find a solution for the wedding. You won’t have to go to your ex's wedding alone. It will be fine.

The tremor in your hand nearly causes you to stab through the layer you’re working on with the piping tip, so you take a moment to straighten up your posture and try to loosen your locking muscles. You take a few calming breaths, then go back in and manage to finish the last few filigree details on the tier you're working on.

Your hand is already shaking again. You ignore it. You’ll get through this. You have to.

But every time you regain focus, the thought of Carlyle as a miserable and inert statue keeps creeping back unbidden into your mind.

It’s all too much. Too much. Too much.

The lights above you flicker. A buzz of energy ripples through the room.

The pressure on your chest is unbearable now. Blood rushes in your ears. 

You can’t deal with this anymore.

You can’t even think-!

POP-

In an instant, something cold and cloying splatters across the side of your face and the bridge of your nose, the front of your shirt, your clenched hands and outstretched forearms.

You bring a hand to your face in shock, blindly testing the sudden change in texture.

Your fingertips come away coated in sticky, sugary goop, and bits of shredded vanilla sponge cake.

And where the cake tiers were sitting on the counter, there’s a conspicuous absence of a cake, only the sparse large chunk of shrapnel- a bloodless crime scene, the mostly empty, frosting smeared cakeboards evoking the essence of a chalk body outline.

Well. You’ll be damned.

The cake exploded.

Hoarse, incredulous laughter escapes your throat- first in disbelief, then in bitter resignation. No other reaction really seems to suit this situation more.

Because your life is a joke. A bad joke.

Your laughs thin out, turning into choked sobs. You sink down until you’re sitting on your cold shop floor with your back against a cabinet, and bring the lower clean edge of the apron up to cry into.

Eventually, the unrestrained weeping quiets into silent tears Time has passed, as evidenced by the sky beginning to darken outside. 

“Heeeeellooooo~! I’m heee-” You hear a familiar voice call out and then equally familiar hoof falls on the tile. There’s a rapid change in their tone, making a 180° turn into hushed concern. “Oh. Well fuck, that doesn’t look good-” 

After a few moments, Kirby rounds the counter, an inquisitive look on their face.

You can’t even muster the embarrassment to be seen like this, too tired and emotionally drained and just simply done with it all.

You expect a look of pity or maybe some awkward fussing, but instead, Kirby simply gives you a knowing smile.

“What a mess!!” Kirby shakes their head, curls tumbling as they assess the damage. “You’re not hurt, are you, honey?”

You shake your head weakly, rubbing at your eye with your inner wrist.

“Good! Well then, let’s get this all cleaned up!” They chirp and reach out their hand, palm up.

After the moment it takes to recognize the gesture, you take their hand. Kirby’s grip is surprisingly strong for being such a petite faun, and they easily manage to help you to your feet.

“You don’t have to-” 

“Well I’m NOT going to let you sit here and cry covered in frosting all night.” Kirby laughs, beginning to roll up the sleeves of their work shirt. “So. Yes I do~”

“...Thank you.” You sniffle.

“Don’t mention it!!” They laugh. “You go get cleaned up and I’ll start tackling this absolute disaster zone!”

You trudge upstairs and debate on the benefits of a full shower before deciding that it’s worth it, even if ten more cakes explode. You’re uncomfortably sticky down your neck and arms. 

Maybe you can wash this day away, while you’re at it…

Before long you’re redressed and coming back downstairs- if not feeling completely refreshed, you at least now have it in you to face the (suddenly much longer) list of tasks ahead. Kirby has gotten most of the cake into a trash bag, and is wiping down the counter.

“There, you look much better! Now, come tell me what was happening when this happened, will you?”

You join them, grabbing a sanitizer rag and beginning to help wipe down the closest surface. You describe as best you can exactly what you were doing, feeling, and thinking about when the cake exploded, just as you’ve explained to them about the previous incidents that you weren’t physically present for.

“Hmm.” Kirby hums quizzically. “Well, the good news is I’ve got a potential solution for the wedding dilemma.”

“Oh?” You’d be lying if you said that the promise of a stressor being removed didn’t sound divine.

“Actually, I’ve already convinced Rosario to go with you, if you want, while I was on the way over. Did you know that she’s surprisingly easy to bribe?!” Kirby giggles. “But to be honest- I didn’t even need to bribe her!! She agreed before I offered anything in return. Apparently wedding cake and an open bar is enough reason for her to turn up, or so she said. But I think it’s because she likes you.”

“That’s… very kind of her.” She wouldn’t be the worst companion for the event- you’ve grown quite fond of her presence in your shop, prickly attitude and all.

“Yeah! She’ll easily make your ex just as uncomfortable as I was planning to, all on her own merit, hehe!! BUUUUUT, I think you know what I’m about to say-”

“Don’t…”

“You should call him!” Kirby says in the most obnoxiously sing-song sweet tone they can, and you wince hard.

“I can’t-”

“But you can~!!”

“But I don’t think I should-”

“Well, maybe you should think again, sweetie!! You absoluuuuutely should! Because if this-” Kirby motions to the partially cleaned up buttercream splatter still coating the vicinity. “Isn’t proof enough that it’s not a him problem, I don’t know what would be!!”

You drag a palm across your face, overwhelmed, and heave a sigh.

“At the end of the day it’s your choice! I can’t make you call him. But you miss him, and he misses you! I know this for a fact! And SPIRITS is he being SO insufferable about it!! And so are you!!!! And it’s just a BIT silly to keep drawing this out like this.”

“But… I don’t want him to get hurt…”

“Listen. We know there’s something attached to you- Rosario’s exorcism attempt confirmed that much. But there’s no like, actual indication that any of that is related to what’s happening with the curse. It’s just not how this kind of magic works. We’re almost certain we’re dealing with two unconnected, non-standard issues complicating each other at this point- some sort of spirit attached to you, and some sort of ley-based magical compulsion in play- but we don’t know the source of where either of those things are coming from. Yet.”

“Right.” You say, pausing your cleaning work to take in the new information.

“Though, someone has some very promising ideas about the later being some sort of messed up geas, and Rosario seems like she has a hunch on what is in the shop.”

“But… it just feels like it’s getting worse. Not that I don’t appreciate your efforts, of course…”

“I know it feels that way. But I am good at my job! And I’ve been keeping track of the numbers this whole time, y’know?? I’ve got the DATA. Do you know what I’ve noticed the most as a trend over the time I've been working your case?”

You simply shake your head to give them time to build dramatic tension before they continue.

“The cakes explode more when you’re upset!! Like, a whole, whole lot more! And quite frankly at this point, in my professional opinion, you being separated from him is making it WORSE!!”

“...You really think it’d be okay to ask him-” To go back to how it was before, to be with me again; you want to say, but end up continuing instead; “to come with me to the wedding?”

You have the feeling Kirby understands what you wanted to say, anyway, based on their pleased expression, like they’re finally getting the message through to you.

“You’re my friend!! And as your friend, I am HEREBY giving you the permission that you’re not giving yourself! I wouldn’t be suggesting this to you if I didn’t think it was safe.” Kirby squarely lays their hands on you on the shoulders, though they need to reach up slightly to do it. “If anything, having him there might keep you from getting bent out of shape at your ex and blowing up the second cake, like, at the actual wedding.”

“That would be horrible.” You rasp and find yourself genuinely smiling for the first time all day, trying to blink back the sting of more tears threatening to spill, though this time more out of a sense of appreciation than despair.

“It. Would. Be. HILARIOUS.” Kirby says with a mischievous grin, patting your shoulders with each word for emphasis. “And if it were to happen, I would hope you were recording it. Y’know, for data collection purposes, hehehe!! But it would also be, let’s say: bad for business.”

You manage to finish getting things looking clean, as if nothing bad had happened at all, Kirby has called their ride to the airport.

“Now, I have to go or I’m going to miss my flight and my boss will probably-actually-literally murder me.” 

“And I have a cake to remake.” You quietly lament. “If you want, I can get on the plane and you can make the cake…”

Kirby lets out a string of giggles, picking their carry-on bag off the seat at the counter they stashed it on..

“Hahah- No thanks!! But- Call him.” Kirby repeats as they give you a squeezing hug goodbye. “Or Rosario, if you must. But don’t make yourself go alone. And keep me updated!! All of the juicy wedding gossip, please. I’m definitely going to be bored out of my mind otherwise, hehe!!”

Then they release you from their grip to head out the door with one last wave and a jingle of the shop bell. 

You, on the other hand, let out a long, withering sigh and pull out another set of white cake layers from the cooler.

…It’s going to be a long night.

>> ✨ MASTERLIST >> ☕ KO-FI

[trulysummersprivate]

Entry no.2 Everyday is a School Day

I've seen some wild things over the years. Being mutant and attending a school for mutants does that for you. You see shapeshifters, telekinesis, people who can turn into beasts, people who can kill with one touch, people with claws in their skin, but nothing could have prepared me for what I saw today.

The day started very normal, kids watching TV, eating breakfast, chatting when one of the kids, we'll call her Pink Roses, decides to prank her...boyfriend? They're a couple I think. Or really good friends. I need to do more research. Anyway she decides it's a good idea to prank him or rather his slime friend on his shoulder helps her prank him and suddenly he's turned into those blue cat things from that movie Avatar. It was uncanny! One of the kids, let's call her Purple Shell, screamed like a banshee alerting all of us to what had happened and I could not believe my eyes. This kid had just transformed into a big blue cat!

And according to what I've been told, that's not normal! This kid, we'll call him Blueberry? Seems fitting. Blueberry, has multiple kinds of mutation or mutates in his body. Like someone or something just shoved several different X Genes into his DNA and waited to see what happened. From what I've heard he hosts a symbiote, has lycanthropic tendencies and the same gamma radiation impulses as a certain green fella we all know. Three different abilities!

They teach you in school that finding solutions to unknown problems is like throwing spaghetti at a wall. Some of it might slide off and land in a mess on the ground but if it's got enough sauce on it and it's fresh enough, it might stick to the wall until you can clean it up. This feels like someone just catapulted spaghetti at a wall despite the mess, hurling it over and over again. It's fascinating.

Despite all my training and experience with mutants, you can still learn something new every day. The kid's fine by the way, he stayed a cat the rest of the day. It was kind of cute and his Dad reassured him he would be okay. At least I think that's his Dad? Or just a really kind Uncle? Again, I need to get some files on my desk so I can figure out who's who properly in this place. Maybe I'll have to request them. But the kid is okay. That's all for now.

Now I really want some spaghetti.

Tags: @rickb-chaos @purpleprincessonfyre @marvelsfavoriteuncle @therealdaydreamstark @ask-missparker @ask-starrk @askstevella @sci-fi-lexcon @luna-d-marsh @ethan-lensherr @wizzzardofoz @thechoooooosenone @jackiequick @gcthvile @cherrysft @blueboirick @meiramel @elzabeth-stark @missstrawbs2001

[imber-rose]

I could have sworn I posted this but it wasn’t under my writing tag so….

Bramble’s stomach lurched as he jolted awake. His fur stood on edge and he quickly threw off his quilt and searched clumsily in the dim morning light for the shoebox he’d used as a makeshift nest for his new friend. He sighed heavily with relief as he pulled the box into his lap and observed the little creature inside was still breathing.

It was a tiny thing, the size of a doll, perhaps at one time it had even been a doll. Mismatched patches of fabric dotted its body and pink yarn hair covered its sleeping face. Moth-like wings ripped and tattered, rested against its back. Its tail twitched as it suddenly curled in on itself, small murmurs left its lips and Bramble frowned. It had been almost three days and his little friend had yet to wake.

Gently Bramble wrapped the little creature back up in the bundle of fabric he’d salvaged as blankets and set the box down near the fireplace with the hope the still red coals would keep it warm.

He gave one last glance around his cottage before opening the door and stepping out into the cool breeze. He gathered up his basket and his gardening tools and headed out into the forest to forage.

As Bramble collected some mushrooms from a fallen log he heard a voice through the trees “Oh no! Come back”. Bramble’s ears twitched and he stood to check on the voice. As he pushed through the foliage he came up behind a small woman who was rather focused on a grasshopper. The little insect kept jumping away just as the woman got close. “Oh come now, I just want a picture” she cooed. The insect didn’t seem convinced and took another leap, this time it opened a pair of wings and, in its escape attempt, crashed into Bramble’s face.

Bramble yelped, the woman screamed and the grasshopper let out an indignant beep before flying off for good. Bramble’s ears dropped and he clutched at his arms trying to make himself seem a bit smaller than he was. “Sorry, I hope I didn’t scare you too badly” he muttered, eyes fixated on the ground.

“Oh no! Just startled me a bit… I’m guessing you must be Bramble”

Bramble's ears flicked as he glanced back up “You know me”?

“Well I know of you, the rangers filled me in as I’m joining their team as the new entomologist for the area. My name is Bea”.

“Oh! It’s very nice to meet you… um… What is an entomologist”?

Bea’s eyes filled with a glittering excitement “Entomology is the study of bugs! If it’s got wings, antennae, or stingers then I’m interested in it” she proclaimed.

Bramble tilted his head as he thought about the little creature he’d found. Wings: check. Antenna: check…. “Can you help injured bugs”?

“Sometimes, altho treating buggy friends can be a bit more difficult than other creatures. Why do you ask”?

“I found a creature a few days ago. It has wings and antennae so it might be a bug? It’s injured though and I haven’t been able to help it”.

“I see,” Bea said, lifting her hand thoughtfully to her chin “Would you mind showing me, I could at least take a look”.

Bramble nodded “Of course! Just follow me”.

Bramble showed Bea the way to his home and produced the box with his little friend in it. Bea sat at the table considering the creature carefully. A few times she gently lifted it to take a better look at its wings. Finally, she looked up at Bramble with a kind of determination that gave him a spark of hope. “The little fella isn’t exactly a bug, so I don’t think I can help him alone”. Bramble's face fell and Bea quickly continued “But! I think the seamstress in town might have some ideas of what to repair him with”.

Bramble nodded “I see, that’s a good idea” he exclaimed as he got up and moved to grab a basket. “Here, I think this will make it easier to carry him back into town”.

“Don’t you want to come”?

“I don’t want to scare anyone”.

“Hm, well I happen to know the seamstress would love to meet you. And I may be new but I’ve learned a fair few backways so I can make sure we don’t encounter anyone else”.

“R-really”?

“Absolutely”.

Bramble followed Bea to the step as she walked him down alleyways and across gardens until they reached the home of the seamstress. Bea knocked and the older lady answered the door with a smile “Well, hello” she glanced at Bramble who was trying hard to look as polite and nonthreatening as possible “Oh! Well I haven’t caught sight of you in a while. Happy to see you enjoying the jacket I made you”.

Bramble looked down at his soft plush jacket “You made it… for me”?

“We’ll of course! Can’t have our local cryptid getting cold”.

Bea shifted the basket in her hands drawing the seamstress's attention “I have a bit of a favor to ask Mable, Bramble has a friend here who I think could use your help”.

“Oh dear,” Mable remarked as she peered into the basket now set on her dining room table “Poor little cryptid, looks like he got shredded”!

“Do you think you can help?” Bea asked while Bramble carefully held a dainty teacup trying not to break it as he drank.

“Hmmm, well I have a fair bit of scrap fabric so I’ll certainly give it a try”.

That night while Mable worked Bea and Bramble fell asleep in her living room, the rhythmic sound of the sewing machine could be heard through the neighborhood. A familiar and comforting sound to those nearby.

When the two awoke, Mable was making breakfast and, from the sounds of it, conversation with someone. Bramble and Bea quietly crept into the kitchen and observed the small creature from before sitting on the counter, snacking on a slice of strawberry.

“You helped fix him” Bramble couldn’t keep himself from exclaiming, which caused the little creature to flutter its wings nervously. Bramble quickly covered his mouth and muttered an apology.

Mable chuckled “Yes indeed, Needles here just needed a bit of patchwork”.

“Needles? Is that your name?” Bea asked.

“It is,” Needles responded, his gaze flickering between Bea and Bramble. He lifted a hand to point at Bramble “You, you're the one who helped me in the woods”!

Bramble nodded “You remember that then”?

“I do, thank you”.

“Of course, I’m so relieved you're ok”.

Mable served up plates piled high with pancakes, fruit, and syrup and the four chatted getting to know each other as they ate. Before long it was time for Bramble to head home and Needles decided to go with him.

“Make sure you come visit again” both Mable and Bea encouraged the two cryptids before they headed off into the woods.

The End.

[glittergrubz]

askldhaj this was super fun to make! But also took a decent amount of time, and yet I love it so much! I'm very proud of how they all look! I'm also happy with the changes my art has gone through, altho I need to do way more different poses,,ack my weakness lol.

All I ask is that you guys aren't to harsh about these headcannon designs. I personally hate that almost every Sandwing is the same sandy desert color. So I wanted to expand that, your allowed to like the cannon designs! Don't worry, just don't shit on my designs for being different, I want my designs to be different! I think it's fun to reimagine characters espically the WoF families. BTW: I plan on doing more in the future. Queen Glacier's family is next bc Dravvona gave me a great idea for Glacier's design >:]

Also yes these will be used for my Rainbow Sparkle Chaos AU/Rewrite. Even have some headcannons for each of these little guys. --- These designs are FTU! Here are just a few rules for the designs. I even have seprate files for each headshot so you guys can get a better look at each of these fellas! - DO NOT claim the art or designs as your own. Credit me with either a tag on websites I have or linking my DA profile. - Do not edit my headshots or trace these designs, you will be blocked and blacklisted. - Take inspirations! I don't mind at all, just credit me! (I love seeing people use my designs or inspirations hehe) - Do not repost headshot designs either

Stash Link -> sta.sh/210nk11kfs1c?edit=1

Character Headcannons -

Blaze - The blue jewelry she owns is from her girlfriend Glacier. She made it especially for her and she wears it with pride. - While ditsy she's gain some plant knowledge from her dead brother Scald. They were very close, spending hours together painting claws, tending to plants and trying on makeup! - She sounds like Pinky Pie from Gen 4! (I love pink characters so much agh!!) - She now spends her time with Glacier (I'm sorry but I can't let her die, Blaze needs her so badly) often helping healers with plant knowledge and trying to figure out how to get plants to grow in the Ice Kingdom. - I wanted her to look like a strawberry dragon, it just felt perfect! PINK PINK PINK!!

Blister - She's quite thin compared to her more plump or round family. Built like a snake and sounds like one too. - Her amber jewerly was gifted from her father, she loves her jewelry as she despises her mother. Giving all her attention to Blaze because "she's the baby of the family" while Oasis boasts about Burn's power in battle. Her mother tried to connect with her but she liked Char. He always knew what to say when she was upset. She was devastated when Char passed away. - She sounds like Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty 1959 - Has an secret obsession with poisons, although she herself is quite afraid of being poisoned.  - I wanted to stay mostly close to the pale snake motif. Although I just couldn't help adding orange n red to make her look fiery, almost like a super venomous snake. One that wears it's toxicity on it's scales to warn others. Also wanted her diamonds to look more interesting, I always though cannon diamonds were way to cluttered.

Burn - Had a fling with Scarlet, thought she was pretty and quite interesting. But really wasn't looking for a relationship, and after the whole face venom thing well they were not getting back together. - Def sounds like Lady Dimitrescu from RE8 - Despises her brother Singe. Everytime she looked at that awful weasel he always had something to say, either behind her back or right to her face. He always teased her for not being great at speaking or writing. Teased the way she walked, her slight mouth gape at all times. Till one day she ripped his neck to shreds, sending the dragonet almost to the heavens. After that day she was placed into fighting training where she became the power house she is now.  - Once she killed her brothers she took her time with Singe, torturing him for as long as she could. She gave Scald a more, "merciful" kill but anything would seem merciful if you saw what she did to Singe. - Yes she's a dark color bc I thought it was neat, made her look alot like her papa. She has also cut most her frill/hair off bc of dangers of fighting. Less things to grab! I tried making her hair kinda like a roman helmet but kept the theme for most the family. 

Oasis - Big boss bitch who knows exactly what to do! Smart, cunning and beautiful, she does have one odd thing about her. Body mods, she loves them dearly and enjoys her horn piercing's (altho they were a bitch to put in, their horns have a lot of nerves). She's also a adrenaline junkie, so her piercing addiction, lots of treasure and devious tactics are perfect for her.  - Loves her small man Char. If you walked in a room with both of them it's a lot like Mortica and Gomez Addams. She was devastated when Char passed away, become a more unhinged dragon in the process.  - She sounds like Mortica Addams from Wednesday (I just had to, sounds perfect). - I wanted a more light, warm theme with Oasis. Almost like desert terracotta, and yes hear scales! I thought it was cute on Blaze but Oasis HAD to have them. I also had to give her dark curly hair with highlights bc omgomg I loooove that so much. 

Char - Sounds like Gomez Addams from Wednesday (hehe small man n big wife gang) - Malewife energy all the way. He constantly embellishes himself in beautiful amber jewels while taking care of the look of the palace. Talking to his servants and giving all his children as much time as he can. His wrinkles and bags are from all the duties he does. Although he would never change it for the world, especially for his love for Oasis.  - Def has an addiction to coffee, I mean how is he going to help Scald get those new plant imports in, and buy Blaze's new makeup, help Singe hunt that beautiful beast he saw in the desert- (you get it lol). - I really wanted "im very tired" vibe with him. I also wanted to go with a dark/char look to him while keeping bright reds, oranges and yellows for fire! It gives him an intimidating look, but also has alot of warmth to it. 

Smolder - Hoenstly I don't have much for Smolder, other than that he was probably the straight man of the family. Although way more chill and with horrible sleeping issues! He's an insomniac and takes traditional medicine Scald makes for him to help him fall n stay asleep.  - Sounds like Legoshi from Beastars  - I had to make this dude greasy n tired. It was just a great idea imo. Like he has to be tired dude, and he doesn't have time to bathe!! I also made him more orange than Blister altho making sure it make them look like they come from the same hatching. 

Scald - I made him into a femboy- ENOUGH SAID, lmao. Seriously though I really wanted to give Blaze a best friend, she really deserves it! So: a very femine brother who loves beauty products but also looooves plants! He's obsessed with em and his mother made him his very own greenhouse. He loves his plants and takes care of them as much as he takes care of Blaze.  - Do not underestimate this small dude, he will kick your ass. Not only is he pretty but he will fight to protect Blaze and to prove a point. Although he is no idiot and will not pick fights, more so he fights for things worth fighting. Although he has a fear of needles so no peircings for him! - Sounds like Stolits from Helluvaboss - Blaze is a strawberry dragon, SO TANGERINE DRAGON TIME! I just really think the orange works very well for him, and I honestly wanted to make a femine male character bc I havn't really done that in a bit. I espically had fun with the flower necklace as I think it makes him stand out quite well against his family.

Singe - Awful stinky man, so smelly! He's two faced, lying, manipulating and egotystical dragon. Often picking fights with Burn as its easy for her lack of brains....well untill he was torn to shreds by her. After that he became way more fearful of the dragoness. Using expensive furs from the animals he's hunted. He's also very cowardly so no fighting or even peircings for him. - Obv sounds like Karl Heisenberg from RE8 - Honestly just a peice of shit, I have really nothing else to say lmao. - I wanted to do one more pink dragon before I finish the designs. I espically wanted a burnt pink dragon idea in mind, kinda like Char but pink! I was also done making jewerly so fur accessory sounded so much fun to draw.  --- ★ Not for Other's Use ★ ★ Feel Free to Take Inspiration but Credit Me ★ ★ NOT FOR AI USE OR NFT USE! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED AND BLACKLISTED ★ ★ DO NOT REPOST/TRACE/EDIT! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED AND BLACKLISTED ★ DA: https://deviantart.com/glitterbonez TW: twitter.com/GLITTERBONEZx Tumblr: khaleern.tumblr.com/

[theboxfort]

Objectsworld???? 😳😳😳😳?!?!?!??!!??!??!?!?!?!???!?!?!?!?!?!?!

Main boys designs are based on Osh's!!

[riffheartsgraziella]

Now what about the first time Riff saw Graz cry?

A/N: This is a follow-up request to a prompt I wrote here, but chronologically, the scene below happened first.

I decided to combine this request with a request @whisperofsong had made a while ago about Riff being more in tune with Graziella’s emotions than Tony was while they were together. Hope you enjoy!

This is probably a bad idea, Riff thought to himself as he climbed the fire escape, the fading sunlight casting shadows across the side of the apartment building. No, it’s definitely a bad idea.

And yet, he continued to climb the rickety escape route until he was nearly outside Graziella’s bedroom window. He just wanted to make sure she was alright. Once he did that, he’d leave her alone and no one would have to be the wiser.

She’d looked particularly beautiful today, all dolled up when the gang had been hanging out at the playground earlier. He knew he shouldn’t have noticed, but he couldn’t help it. He noticed everything about her, whether he wanted to or not. That was why he knew something was wrong. She’d been happy enough when she, Velma, Mamie, Karen, and Rhonda had first arrived to meet up with the Jets, kissing Tony in a way that Riff tried to tell himself didn’t make him jealous. But something had gone wrong. Something had wiped the smile off that pretty face of hers.

He didn’t know what it was, but his gut was telling him that it had something to do with something Tony had done or said.

“Ya know, fellas, it’s a very special day today,” Tony had announced, slinging his arm around Grazi, who had looked up at him with a huge smile. When all the Jets looked at him expectantly, he’d continued with, “Buy one, get one sundaes at the soda shop.”

All the Jets had cheered, but Graziella’s face had fallen. No one but Riff noticed. Not even Tony.

She’d tagged along with them to the soda shop, but had barely even touched her sundae when she suddenly declared that she wasn’t feeling well and she’d like Tony to take her home. Tony had agreed to do so, seeming unbothered by it. Riff thought he noticed sideways looks exchanged between the other girls, but didn’t ask. He just frowned, annoyed that Tony didn’t even seem to notice that there was clearly something wrong with Grazi.

So now Riff found himself outside Grazi’s window, having made up some vague excuse for why he needed to run when the Jets had looked at him questioningly. He just wanted to make sure she was okay. Why that was, he didn’t want to think too much about. Clearing his throat nervously, he tapped on the window. “Grazi? It’s Riff,” he called out.

It took a minute before he heard the sound of movement in her bedroom, things being shuffled around slightly before she finally appeared at the window, opening it slowly. Her eyes looked puffy and a little red, the tip of her nose pink as she quickly wiped it with the back of her hand.

Was she…crying? He’d never seen Grazi cry before. Probably because she wouldn’t have wanted him to. Grazi was stubborn and tough and didn’t like appearing weak in front of people. Even now, she was clearly working hard to hide her tears.

“What is it, Riff?” Graziella asked, her voice hoarse with emotion.

“I wanted to come check on ya. Ya seemed upset earlier,” Riff explained, frowning when he noticed a couple tears sneak out of the corners of her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’, Riff, I’m fine,” she insisted, wiping the traitorous tears away quickly.

“No, ya ain’t. What is it? Did Tony do somethin’?” he demanded. Womb to tomb or not, Riff would knock him upside the head if he had.

When Grazi bit her lip, Riff knew he’d hit close to the mark. “He did. What is it? What’d he do?”

“It’s stupid,” Graziella told him, turning away for a minute so she could wipe her cheeks properly. “It’s just…today’s our three month anniversary. An’ he didn’t even remember.”

Tony was a fucking idiot. How could he have a girl as great as Grazi and not even remember their damn anniversary?

“He’s a moron, Grazi. I love him, he’s like my brother, but he’s a moron!” Riff said, fighting the desire to reach out and brush away the tear that was still clinging to her cheek. “I’ll tell him that he better—”

“No, Riff! Don’t tell him. That’ll only be worse,” Graziella begged, reaching out to grab his arm. “It’s no big deal, really. I’ll get over it.”

“Ya shouldn’t have ta get over it,” Riff replied quietly, looking at her for a moment.

“Yeah, well, not every guy can be as great as you, huh?” she asked with a watery smile.

She’d obviously meant it as a joke, but the air between them suddenly crackled in a way that made Riff feel distinctly uncomfortable. Being alone with Grazi was too dangerous for him. He knew this was a bad idea.

“I gotta go, Grazi. The Jets’ll be waitin’,” he said suddenly, turning to climb back down the fire escape. He had climbed part of the way down, then glanced back up and saw that she was still watching him. “I’ll make sure Tony don’t forget another anniversary,” he promised her.

Was it his imagination that a look of disappointment crossed her tear-stained face?

[intoanothermind]

Akai Ito - Reggie (soulmate au)

.not my gif

Word Count: 3.5k

- Reggie x reader

Synopsis: you’ve been trapped for decades and gave up on the idea of knowing who’s on the other side of your red string. But what if he comes to you instead (on accident)?

Masterlist

Stand Tall - Reggie imagine

Flying Solo - Reggie imagine

Bright - Luke imagine

(This is my first soulmate au and I wish it would’ve ended up better than it did, but I hope you guys disagree with me and actually enjoy it. I don’t really have much time for writing requests, but if someone comes up with an idea for another Reggie soulmate au, let me know and I’ll try to write something when I have free time again. I’m a sucker for soulmate au imagines, I just never have the criativity for it. Also, let me know if you want to be tagged in any next Reggie imagines!)

—

Do you know that Japanese legend about soulmates? The one about the red string that connects the fingers of two people destined for each other? The one that says the string can stretch and tangle, but never break? Yeah. That is all true. Even though I sometimes wish it wasn't. Well, I'm the romantic type, who dreamed of finding out who was on the other side of my string, but then I turned 18 and died two weeks later. I wish I could say that I crossed over to the other side, but in fact I ended up trapped like a ghost with my father - since he died with me and was the reason of my death - many decades ago. Which means that whoever is on the other end of the string will never know who I am. So no, I don't like the idea of soulmates as much as I used to.

"Honey, why do you look like that?" I heard my father's voice taking me out of my thoughts and I realized that I spent a lot of time just looking at my little finger while I was sitting in front of the dressing room mirror.

"It’s nothing." I replied, turning on the bench to face daddy's blue eyes. "Did Willie arrive yet?"

"Yes." he replied, leaving the cup of tea on the table. "And, apparently, his three new friends too."

I broke into a smile. I always looked forward to meeting new people. This is often a little difficult when you spend most of your time in a ghost club hidden behind the facade of an abandoned hotel.

"Are you ready?" he asked and I took a quick look in the mirror in front of me before nodding and following him.

But when I poofed in the hall, it wasn’t on the stage beside my father, since my cue was only for dessert. I always waited at the top of the stairs to see his performance from a privileged view. As exhausting as it was to see the same musical performance almost every week, I couldn't deny that some of them involved and excited me every time. But when the music started and he went down from the stage to the space in front of the tables I felt that something would be different. I felt a twinge and it took me a while to realize it was on my finger. Yes, the one that I faced not even half an hour before.

I opened my eyes wide when I lifted my finger and felt the finger tighten a little more.

My soul mate was here, in this room.

I swallowed hard, thinking that there were only a few new ghosts here and new customers. Living customers.

"Let's go." I almost jumped when I heard my dad behind me again. "Are you OK, darling?"

I ignored your question. "Where are we going?"

“Why, William brought guests. We need to have a... conversation... with them.

I frowned when I detected an omission in his tone of voice, but said nothing when he took my hand and placed it on the crook of his elbow. As we approached the table right in front of the stage, I felt my finger tighten and my heart racing. Was it possible that one of Willie's friends was my soulmate? As we got closer I started to take their details. One had a big blue coat, with brown hair falling over his forehead. The blond in the denim jacket must have been Alex, the first Willie had met and apparently his soulmate. But the latter caught my attention the most - and also what caused my pulse to accelerate. White skin and pink cheeks, leather jacket and black hair tossed aside. Was it him?

"Told you, the guy's got skills." I managed to make out Willie's voice as we approached.

"So where'd he go?" said the boy in the leather jacket, turning towards the stage before turning towards us. “Oh wow! Found him! There is!"

“Hello, boys. Caleb Covington and this is my daughter, Y/N.” Dad introduced us, opening his free arm invitingly. I smiled when the boys looked at me, but my gaze was fixed on the leather jacket one. “Welcome to the Hollywood Ghost Club. Enjoying the show?”

"Yo, that was..." the one in the stained blue jacket started to say, gesturing to Dad and to the stage. “I mean… Did you… Like…”

"I know." Dad laughed.

"Right?"

I giggled at that. "I'm glad you're all enjoying it."

"This is Alex, Luke and Reggie." Willie took the lead and introduced them.

Reggie ... Why did my heart jump when I heard that name?

"Yeah, it's really nice to meet you." said Alex.

"'Sup?" Reggie said, holding up two fingers in peace and a goofy smile.

I had to bite my lip to keep from mirroring his smile.

"It's good to meet you guys as well." I said before smiling at Alex. “I'm really glad to finally meet Willie's soulmate.”

He broke into an embarrassed smile and blushed, while Willie just gave me a huge smile.

“Nothing warms my heart more than sharing this magic with new friends.” Dad said. “Please, sit. Sit. ”

Two new chairs appeared behind us so that my father and I could join the boys.

 "Uh, thank you for the invite." said Alex.

“Of course, of course.” said Dad, crossing his legs and patting my knee before resting his hand on his own. "Now, my friend Willie tells me that you boys have some magic of your own."

Alex cleared his throat before speaking. “Well… Willie and I? I mean, I wouldn't call it magic, but, I mean ... ”

I had to cover my mouth with my hand to keep from laughing. I took a quick look at the other two boys and it was even more difficult to control myself when I noticed their somewhat surprised and embarrassed expressions.

"Oh, no." said Willie, resting a hand on Alex's shoulder. “He means your ghost abilities. You know, like, to be seen by everybody when you play with Julie. ”

Alex made a mortified expression before turning back to us. “Oh, not totally. Right. No. 'Cause when you said it, I was like' Is this what he said? ' 'Cause ... ”

Dad made a motion with his hand to indicate that everything was fine.

I leaned towards Alex, who was sitting next to me, and murmured. "Well, you're not entirely wrong."

"Yeah, but we can't really, uh, wave our arms and do all this magic stuff." said Luke, saving his friend from yet another awkward moment.

“Well, I've had some practice. Our gifts are so rare, so special. It's not often I come across other spirits who possess similar talents.” said dad. "It's no surprise we found each other."

I frowned. It's no surprise we found each other? What was dad thinking? It didn't sound like much of a conversation to help the boys like Willie asked.

"Yeah, that definitely..." said Luke, looking at dad with wide eyes.

I looked around the table, realizing that the boys were really amazed by all of this and my heart sank when I realized that dad had a malicious gleam in his eyes. He wouldn't want to imprison them, would he?

"If you'll forgive me, fellas, I gotta pay the bills, if you know what I'm saying." Dad said, already getting up. "I'll be back later to chat."

I took advantage of that moment to get to know them a little more and maybe find out if Reggie was really my soulmate.

"We have a little while before I have to make my performance." I said, getting up and adjusting my white dress around me. I looked directly into Reggie's eyes, feeling trapped by the light squeeze on my finger, but at the same time with a feeling of freedom blooming. "What do you guys think about introducing you to some lifers so that they can tell you some things that you missed in the last few years?"

 ~*~

 I spent the next few minutes talking to Luke and Reggie as we walked among the lifers and occasionally asked them a few questions. With each moment I spent with them the grip on my finger increased and, when I noticed Reggie distracted while talking about Star Wars, I lightly touched my finger to his and tried not to widen my eyes when I could see the red string joining our fingers. I almost felt my heart stop when I realized that I finally found my soulmate, after so many decades of believing it would never happen. When I realized that Reggie had run away after hearing something about Han Solo, I signalled to Luke that I would go after him. I found him some time later walking away from a lifer.

"It's everything all right?" asking, raising my hand to support it on his arm, but I stopped halfway. I don't know if I wanted him to know that I was his soulmate. Not yet, when I had a bad feeling about what dad wanted with them.

"I'm starting to think it was better that I didn't ask anything about the movie." he snorted, going towards the table with me right behind him. He commented on the movie with Luke and Alex, who were seated and I almost joined them, but I saw my father approaching the table and stayed away, just listening and trying not to be seen.

"I take it you guys are enjoying yourselves?" said dad as he approached.

‘Luke and Alex quickly got up from their chairs. "Yeah, I mean, you'd have to be insane to have a bad time here."

“Well, entertainment is our specialty. So now, I understand there's something I can help you with.”

The boys started to explain something about an old acquaintance screwing them up, but I frowned when dad started talking about them being like them, born to perform music for large crowds. I knew there was something strange when he agreed to Willie bringing them. And then my dad invited them to be part of the house band and I realized that the risk was greater than I imagined. I knew he wouldn't just let them go when they argued that they already had a band. Dad was not the type to just give up on what he wanted. Dad got up and ordered the waiters to leave three huge plates of food on their table. I knew it was my time to perform, but I needed to do something for the boys.

"Listen to me." I interrupted them when they started eating. All three were confused when they looked at me and I tried to convey in my expression all the despair I felt. “You need to get out of here. ASAP. Go and never come back.”

I disappeared from there straight to the stage, taking daddy's cue for me to sing while he played the piano. However, I kept my eye on the three boys at the first table. I sang while I hoped internally that they would hear me and leave the club, but it some  took time to happen. Willie got up from the table and danced with the other dancers in the empty space between the stage and the tables. I saw dad coming down from the stage and mentioning for dancers to take the boys out to dance. Alex received two male dancers. I kept my eyes on dad when he returned to the stage and took the cue to sing. I went down to infiltrate the dancing people and get to the boys to get them out of here myself. But I lost sight of them and when I returned to their table I realized that they were no longer there. I almost sighed with relief, until I realized that my father was also out of sight.

I left the hall as quickly as possible towards the entrance, praying that my father didn’t reach them before me. But what I saw almost made my heart stop. Alex thanked my dad for something before he passed him up the stairs and Willie was going towards him.

“Um… Caleb? You never said you were gonna… use your stamp.” I widened my eyes when I heard those words and hid in the pillar a little bit away from where they were. "You know what I'll do to them."

“Of course I do, William, but they're too powerful. I need them working for me. Now they'll have no option but to accept my invitation.”

My dad came down the stairs and patted Willie on the face before walking away. But I was already getting furious.

"Willie, how could you do such a thing?!" I exclaimed when I approached the boy.

"I... I..."

"You know how my father is like!" I hit my fists on his chest, even though I couldn't push him more than an inch. “You put your soulmate at risk! You put my soulmate at risk!”

"Your what?" he asked, confused.

"Reggie." I replied softly, feeling my eyes water. "Reggie is my soulmate."

Willie's eyes widened, but it took me only a few seconds to realize that he wasn't looking at me.

"Why, what a surprise." I also opened my eyes wide when I turned to my father. "Well, it looks like things are going to have to change around here."

It was all I heard before he blew dust on my face and everything went black.

 ~*~

 The next few weeks were a blur for me. My dad always kept me tight on the inside of the club, and if I barely go out into the world before, I haven't gone out once since he found out about Reggie being my soul mate.

"Y/N." he caught my eye. I was backstage, just waiting for my cue. He wouldn't even let me interact with lifer customers anymore, and I haven't seen Willie since I got house arrested. I never imagined that my father would be so greedy and inhuman. I could only pray that Reggie and the others could get rid of his clutches. Even if it meant I never saw him again. "Camille!"

"Hm?" I turned to him with the empty look I had on my face since then.

"I'm going to get my band." it made me raise my eyebrow - the maximum reaction he would get from me, even if my heart was racing. "I hope you are either on stage or in the dressing room when that happens."

Of course he would keep me away. He wouldn't underestimate me.

"Okay, daddy." it was just what I said before disappearing into the dressing room, trying to think of something to get me - and the boys - out of that situation.

I looked around the dressing room and noticed a half-hidden jar. I smiled when I realized that dad was not as careful when he should have been. It was the jar that held his magic powder. It had no specific use, but I spent decades seeing him using the powder for a variety of purposes. I put it in a little bag, just hoping that I could replicate one of them. I went down the dressing room stairs carefully, looking around to make sure I wasn't caught. I stopped before the backstage and listened to see if I heard anything. Nothing but my father's performance already starting.

I leaned over a little and peeked out the door. One by one the boys disappeared towards the stage, however much they tried to resist. I waited until the music was over and my father came down from the stage to speak to the lifers before approaching the limits between the backstage and the stage to try to get the boys' attention.

"Y/N?" Luke asked, confused, when he saw me there.

"Come on, quickly!" I tried to murmur. "Before he sees it!"

"What is happening? Where's Willie?” asked Alex when they approached me.

"You need to get out of here!" I said, pushing them towards the door. "He is distracted right now, so go!"

"Why are you helping us?" asked Reggie.

I smiled with watery eyes. "Why, I can't leave my soulmate stuck here for all eternity."

And then, to confirm my statement, I intertwined our little fingers and raised our hands in front of his face. The red string was visible to everyone. Reggie's eyes widened, perplexed, before opening a goofy smile on his lips.

"Come with us!" he said immediately and I smiled sadly. He then touched my cheek and his touch almost made me throw the consequences in the air to follow him. "Please!"

“I need to do something first. It’s important." I said and looked at Luke.

He seemed to understand, because he pulled Reggie away from me. I watched as they disappeared and took a deep breath, gathering the courage to continue with my plan. I needed to find Willie. I left the backstage as discreetly as possible and it took me just a few minutes to find Willie distracting some lifers - even though he seemed distracted himself.

"Willie!" I called him and he came to me. "We need to go."

"Go where?"

"You know where."

"But I do not know." I heard my father's voice as I saw Willie's eyes widen. And I tried not to smile when I got caught. "I don't think you're going anywhere."

"Wrong answer." I said and turned around quickly, blowing daddy's powder in his own face.

He raised his hands to his face and tapped the dust away. He coughed just before opening his eyes. When he studied Willie's face and then mine with a confused expression, I realized that my plan had worked.

"Who are you?"

Even though my heart had broken a little when I heard these words, nothing could compare to the feeling of freedom that spread in my chest.

"Nobody important."

That was all I said before taking Willie's wrist and poofing us out of there. We appeared in a space behind a house, facing open garage doors. Inside, I found the three boys stepping out of a hug with a clearly alive girl. That must be Julie. I raised an eyebrow when I realized the boys were wrapped in a light and was even more shocked when they pulled away and Luke's stamp came off his wrist and was gone. Alex and Reggie's, however, just went a little opaque, but they didn't go away. What if...?

"Why didn't ours disappear?" asked Reggie and I smiled just at the sound of his voice.

"Perhaps because you need us." I said, drawing everyone's attention to us.

Willie stepped forward and crossed the distance to Alex. When they hugged, Alex's stamp was finally gone. Reggie turned to me smiling and barely gave me time to react before coming up to me and pulling me in a tight hug. I didn't complain, not even when he squeezed me even harder when his stamp disappeared too. After a while he separated from me just enough to take my face in his hands and kiss me. I reacted immediately, burying my fingers in his black hair and messing up the hairstyle my dad forced on him. When our lips parted, I felt my whole body tingling and totally breathless. Reggie lowered one of his hands to pull mine until his finger wrapped around mine, leaving our red string in plain view for everyone there to see.

"Hi soulmate." he murmured against my lips.

I felt my legs weaken with his hoarse voice, but I just placed a kiss against his lips before responding with a "Hi soulmate."

"What about Caleb?" I heard Luke's voice ask, taking us out of that torpor that enveloped us.

"I took care of him." I said, smiling when I saw that Luke was holding Julie against him and Alex was holding Willie's hand with his fingers intertwined. The string of all of them were visible.

"You should've seen her, she was amazing." said Willie, smiling brightly. He was also enjoying his newfound freedom.

"What did you do?" asked Alex.

"I erased us all from his memory." I noticed the sadness in Luke's eyes when he realized what it meant to me. "It's all right. It was time for me to go my own way.”

"Well, if you guys don't mind." said Reggie, hugging me and lifting me up. I needed to wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his shoulders to keep our balance. "I'm gonna go get to know my soulmate."

And then we're gone. I didn't know exactly where he was taking me, but, honestly, I didn't care. I only cared about me, him and the eternity we’ll have together.

---

Taglist: @dpaccione​ @carnationcreation​

[novantinuum]

Is the “villain card” really a VILLAIN card- or something else?

So, I’ve been thinking a lot today about @faelapis​‘s recent post (link in reblogs so this can go in tags) discussing the corrupted Steven theory, and specifically how he pointed out how in the intro... that the camera “zooms inside Steven’s heart” when transitioning to the shot that features Big Looming Pink Fella.

And I know the fandom generally refers to threatening spreads such as these as “villain cards,” since- at the time of the intro’s release in October, all of these characters were heavily implied to be antagonistic to our main characters in some way. But after seeing the first ten episodes of SUF in full, I feel we should pause and ask ourselves-

Are any of these characters really villains?

And if not, then what IS their role in the greater story of this epilogue, and more importantly- their role featured prominently in the show’s intro?

Let’s take a quick look at the characters we’ve seen already.

_

Jasper

Thus far, Jasper has played the least antagonistic part she ever has in the entire history of Steven Universe. I’d even go so far as to consider her a shaky acquaintance of Steven’s, at this point. 

But as far as her purpose in the show goes so far, Jasper is important because she is the very first person to mash it up with Pink Mode Steven. The very first person who catches a glimpse of this new ability of his to begin with. When Steven first shifted into this state, it was because she pushed him into a situation that was both emotionally and physically compromising. Jasper is every bit as stubborn as Steven. She knows exactly how to push his buttons. It’s for this reason that I don’t think he would’ve discovered his pink state without her, without her egging him on to fight.

Steven tries his best to be very patient with everyone, and yet his frustrations with Jasper’s inability to move forward (hypocrite, much?) elicited a rather jarring rush of directed anger that- before- he generally seemed to keep bottled inward. 

I get the strong sense that he didn’t allow himself to freely and openly express these sorts of “negative” emotions at all before this encounter. 

Furthermore, Jasper slapped him in the face with the biggest call-out of his mental state ever.

Jasper: “I don’t need your help. You’re the one that needs help. You think you’ve beaten me, but you’ve never beaten me on your own. You’ve always been a fusion. You’ve always had your friends because you’re nothing without them. You think everyone needs help.”

Steven: “I – I just…”

Jasper: “But it’s only you. No one is as pitiful as you.”

Every other episode of the show so far has only gone to further showcase that this is what Steven believes about himself right now. (See: Little Graduation, especially.)

And what happened with Jasper that day... was just the beginning of his slow decline.

Bluebird Azurite

This character... also isn’t big villain material. She’s barely even a threat.

Rather, Bluebird serves as a stark reminder for Steven that there are people out there that hate him for being him. Not only that, but those who would fuse for just that reason.

To hate him together.

(I must admit, I still find the notion of Steven potentially falling apart because of a lack of self-love interesting, as much as it is heartbreaking. But I already wrote that post, so moving on-)

But she also is a reflection of how Steven is resistant to change right now.

Greg: “I mean, everyone can change, but not everyone wants to.”

Steven: “Yeah...”

He used to believe in the idea of positive change wholeheartedly, and yet... I think the passing years have led him to a place where he himself is scared of it, of the unknown, of moving on from what’s comfortable, of all the nebulous what-ifs. Which is why when Bluebird shows up, he projects his own resistance on this scenario. He doubts Bluebird’s ability to change for the better because he now doubts that for himself.

Instead, I think he fears he may be changing for the worse.

I strongly believe we’re going to see Bluebird again. I just get the sense that there’s more she can bring to the table. 

“Mean” Lapis and “Nice” Lapis

Also not villains. Just obstacles.  

Similarly to Bluebird, they seem to push that “resistance to change” theme further for Steven. Some people just... are stuck in their ways. (Thankfully though, not all of them. Thanks, Freckles. Love ya lots!) 

Since Why So Blue is focused squarely on capping Lapis’ character arc, there’s not as much Steven-related meta threads I can glean from their first appearance, truth be told. 

I think we’re likely to see more from these two, as well. If they do serve a greater role in the overarching story of SUF, it isn’t complete yet. Fingers crossed!

Cactus Steven

Dear goodness, this creature is completely innocent. Poor baby. XD

This poor fella plays the role of being a physical embodiment of- at the time of Prickly Pair- Steven’s mental state, and pushing the lad to repress his turbulent emotions even further.

Throughout SUF so far, Steven has become consumed by negative self-talk, (”I used to be helpful, but the Gems don't need me anymore”), a stark reluctance to let anyone see the evidence of his mental instability, and explosive anger he cannot gain a handle on. 

And as his mirror, Cactus Steven: 

Repeats things Steven says, spilling all of that negative self-talk and the reasons why he doesn’t want to approach the Gems about his issues.

Is shoved away under a box, representing Steven’s emotional repression.

Warps into a monstrous form, explosive anger brimming at the surface.

Notably, Cactus Steven only fights in direct response to what others lay on him. He is not overtly antagonistic until Steven himself makes the first strike. Later, while the Gems are attempting to fight him back, he desperately tries pushing them away... much like Steven has been all season.

Cactus Steven: “Just... get... OUT!”

Furthermore, Steven creates him. He creates this monster. He’s the reason he becomes so messed up in the first place. That has to feel pretty awful, especially when he’s doubting his ability to be helpful nowadays. He tried to nurture this creature, and look where that got him? This furthers the narrative idea mentioned earlier, of Steven perhaps fearing that he’s now changing for the worse.

Finally, by by the end of this episode, it seems worryingly as if Steven’s reluctance to open up about his problems has solidified.

Pearl: “Is there anything you need to talk about...?”

Steven: “...I think I’ve said enough.”

_

To wrap...

We don’t yet know what role White Diamond will play, but it’s probable that it’ll be something that strongly impacts Steven in a personal way. And at this point in the show, I’m doubtful she’ll suddenly heel-turn back into villainy.  

With all this in mind, my current theory is that... 

These characters are not on this title sequence card as ‘villains’ at all, but rather, each serve as important ‘road markers’ on the path towards the eventual climax of SUF.

Meaning, Steven’s encounters with each of them will influence his way of thinking in a way that leads him further down the road towards eventual corruption. Or whatever else is waiting for him at the end.

And the camera specifically “zooms into Steven’s heart” because these characters, standing in front of that monster, represent the moments that lead him into that state. 

What we’re seeing here is a visual record of the burden he carries inside him.

[butchbarneygumble]

Got tagged by @lucky-lacmac ! I always grasp the chance to talk about my comfort characters so HERE GO They vary depending on hyperfixations so I'm going with what comes to mind rn and thus they're not numbered wheeeeeee Prohyas Warrior (Mighty Magiswords)

I just. I was just smitten by this guy from day one. I was in Florida, caught the first episode on TV. Wasn't too enticed by the show yet, but soon found myself dreaming of the characters. Gave it more of a chance when I was back home, and eventually got way too into it and it moved from Background Noise to Hell Yeah I Love You!!!! The show in general brings me so much joy but something about Accordion Man just... speaks to me. He insist he's manly and has a killer bod, but he's also openly fond of cute things like dolphins and lil bugs and is super motherly. I just love when characters defy gender expectations. And I love his design, his attitude, his voice, the sense of humour he brings, and that hair, man. That hair Sends Me. He's probably one of the reasons I dyed my hair blue.... not to mention both he and Vambre are just unapologetic manchildren who just try to have fun with their job and adult life. I really relate to that and wish CN would do more cartoons about that. I'm tired of children protags jhckgfgs

honestly every character in this show gets comfort character vibes from me (just please give vambre a break with the hornyposting she deserves so much more) and the fact it has like no fandom at all is criminal

Conker (Conker's Bad Fur Day)

Imagine if you will, I was 6 years old or so when Bad Fur Day released. I had no knowledge of it until my dad bought it for himself from the bargain bin in a local Intertoys that is now gone. Playing it through a bit (sneakily) my mom caught me JUST at the moment he threw up during the opening cutscene. I cried out of secondhand embarrassed, mom consoled me and it went into storage until I was 13 Then I found footage of the Great Mighty Poo on Youtube and snuck in that damn game again. Now, I had actual knowledge of English and as a teenager, the concept of an adult game was just very exciting. I fell in love with Conker, but in a different way a lot of people do. I see him as a normal guy who's just having a really weird day and his greed ruins his life. It's poetic, and I want to hug him a lot. But also slap him for being a little shit. He was there for me in my strange teenhood, when I was exploring adult subjects when I probably shouldn't, but it's been good all the way through. Probably my gateway into the furry fandom as well. As an adult I find myself enjoying the non-edgy stuff more - and it reflects in the fan material I produce of Conker. He is still very important to me and I love him a lot.

Barley Lightfoot (Onward)

Rarely was there ever a character I could point at and be like "me." Girls in animation were always just... There, or very girly to a point I couldn't see myself in there. Surprise, surprise, Renée, you're not even a girl!!! Barley is one of those characters that I saw myself in. I do not have a sibling, but sometimes do wish I had one - and live vigorously throughout media portrayals of them. He is me as my best self - supportive, loud, clumsy, outwardly scary but otherwise just trying to do the right thing. He's one of those "Do I want to date you or do I want your gender" types. Ian is a good boy too ofc, but Barley to me is especially personal. His choice of fashion and body shape, right down to his big jawline, I feel mirrors myself. However, where both Lightfoot bros shine is that I share the experience of having "half a dad".

When Barley and Ian were going through the underground river and he was talking about the last memory of his dad, I saw me. I cried buckets. My dad was diagnosed with ALS somewhere around when I first read about Onward's development, and when I saw it with him he was already paralyzed and wheelchair-bound. He was smiling all the way through. Fergy Fudgehog (Viva Piñata)

Lilshit. Absolute trash animal. Why do I love you so much? I dunno. He's kind of awful. Whereas originally characterized as a scaredy-cat who hated the idea of parties, he eventually got flanderized into a nasty little so-and-so who would sell his own adoptive brother if it meant he could get a snack out of it. When he's not that, he's a whiny manchild. Yet he entices me. His colour pattern, and my fondness for hedgehogs... him making weird noises a lot. I like him enough to have had a role play account for him for a while that's still around!! Sometimes you don't know why you like a character and that's okay.

Luigi (Super Mario Bros) Mario (Super Mario Bros)

When I was 12 I first got into Mario. And I don't mean playing the games and enjoying them, but actively into the characters, lore, and stories... for as much as you can say Mario has story. Mario and Luigi are just such pleasant looking characters. They shouldn't be cute but they are. They were my first crushes and recently I've gotten back into it and I'm just here for it. Mario and Luigi are cute and I should say it!!!!!I legit find them attractive, physically and mentally. Also shipping Luigi with Peasley gives me happiness and I hate teenage me for having bad taste and hating it.

Donkey Kong Diddy Kong Dixie Kong

Donkey Kong is the Absolute, the Eternal. He has always been there in my life, and so have his games. Something about that ape makes me feel comfortable and happy and I just want to hug him. I love the lore of the games, the aesthetics - toony-yet-realistic, and it influenced the HELL out of my own art style. Donkey Kong is just a Cool Soft Gorilla who WILL kick ass. Diddy and Dixie were also super influentual to me. DKC2 is one of my most favourite video games, starring two of my most favourite characters, and my favourite aesthetic... though, in a fun case of chicken-and-egg situation, I dunno if my love for pirates came from DKC2 or other way around. Lars Barriga (Steven Universe)

Babby's First Gender Envy When Lars' entire arc happened, I was in college, constantly trying to discover myself. I enjoyed the character before the arc but the arc just elevated my love for him to the stars. He's just a fella, so nervous about what other people think about him... later in the show you get an insight on why he's like that. Then, he's dragged to space, forced to confront his emotional constipation, Fuckin Dies trying to save his new friends, and is brought back to life as a badass pink space zombie. Something about that just vibed with me super strongly. And how Steven always saw the good in him even if he bullied him. I love him so much. I love them both. That's the main ones! I tag whomever wants to do this I'm bad at tagging jdkfghjd

[peach-the-owl]

Of a Kind Sol

Pumat Sol & Child!Reader

Request: Our favourite enchanter Pumat Sol and his arcane copies because who doesn't love them? Only crazy people. So a kid, maybe into their teens, coming into the shop and asking to learn from him how to enchant stuff and become his apprentice and later on he finds out they have nobody.

Child is a bit of a loose term for this because the reader is about 12-13 years old. I regret nothing, anyways enjoy! 😁

The Invulnerable Vagrant a humble little shop located in the city of Zadash, you walk up to the shop, adjust your cloths to look a little more presentable and take a deep breath before making your way inside. The first thing you notice upon your entry is the two identical employees walking around stocking up items and rearranging them, the third one manning the counter also looked the exact same, it was almost intimidating.

"Well hey there, what can I do for a youngin' like yourself today?" The firbolg at the counter asks kindly.

"Umm, h-hello, my name's (y/n)." You say a little shakily holding out your hand, the firbolg returns the handshake.

"A pleasure to meet you (y/n), I am Enchanter Pumat Sol." He greets you back.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you too. Uhh… well… I had a question I’d like to ask." You put on as confident a smile as you could muster.

"And I’d be happy to answer any questions you have, respectfully. What’s your question." He gives you a patient look. You take another deep breath to psych yourself up.

"I was wondering if you were looking for anyone to help with the shop? I’m really interested in learning about enchantment." You give him a hopeful look, he leans back placing a hand on his chin in thought before looking at you again.

"So you’re interested in enchantment eh? Well that’s a question I’ll have to talk to Pumat prime about."

"Pumat prime?" You give a questioning look.

"Yes, you see myself and the other two over there," he points to the other firbolgs running around. "We're what you’d call magical manifestations created to aid the original in his work." He explains to you.

"So you're not the real Pumat Sol, just a copy to help around the shop?" You try to hide the nervousness in your voice at the revelation.

"More or less. Now you wait here just a moment, I’ll be right back." With that he gets up and disappears behind a curtain leaving you to stand there, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. After a minute he returns with who you’d assume to be the original Pumat Sol, who removes his goggles to get a better look at you.

"So you’re interested in enchantment I hear?" He asks same question as the other had.

"I am, I’ve always been interested in the ways of enchantment but I’ve never really been able to learn it for myself." You brighten up.

"Well…" he thinks for a moment, "that is, respectfully, a fine offer. I already have a lot of hands helping with the shop though." You start to deflate a little. "However, it would be nice having someone else helping me with enchantments." You perk up again.

"So I have the job?" You ask eagerly.

"As long as it’s alright with your parents-"

"Yes! Yes, of course it is." You quickly lie, cutting him off. He stares at you but smiles regardless.

"Well alrighty then, we can get started right now if you'd like, respectfully." You just nod. "Keep up the good work me." He tells the copies before he takes you back behind the curtain to his little workshop area to start your training.

For the next few weeks you’d come to the shop bright and early to learn and hone in on your enchantment skills, which you pick up on rather quickly, helping with projects and making a few small items of your own, at the end of the day you’d get your share of money and head "home" to start the day anew tomorrow. You even got your own work apron and pair of goggles. To make things easier on yourself working with four of the same guy you gave the arcane copies nicknames, Matty, Sol, and Puma respectfully, they all seemed to like the little nicknames from you so that was how you’d refer to them from then on. How could you tell who was who? Simple, you made little enchanted name tags with the help of Pumat. One day a set of new adventurers hobbled into the shop, you only being made aware of this when Matty came into the workshop with a request for something to be made prettier.

"Do you wanna handle this one (y/n)?" Pumat asks.

"Me? Really!" Your eyes sparkle with excitement.

"Why not, you’ve made great progress and it’s good practice." You get up and follow Matty through the curtain where you see the previously mentioned adventurers. They all take quick notice of you.

"Hold on a moment. Didn’t you say the forth one's in the back?" The half-orc questions.

"I'm actually his apprentice." You say with a large, proud smile. You see the red-head give an amused side look but decide to ignore it. "Anyways, I was called to make something pretty?"

"Yes!" The blue tiefling pipes in, showing the Fantastic Haversack. "See I’m going to be wearing it and I want it to match my outfit…" While she’s say all this you try to think of what to do, coming to a rather quick and obvious solution.

"What’s your favourite colour?" You ask.

"Pink!" She replies, without missing a beat. You wave your hands around, muttering a few arcane words and watch the bag simmer turning a bright pink. "Ahhh! It’s beautiful! 200 gold, here you go." The tiefling happily exclaims, handing you a bag of gold.

"You’re welcome miss…" You pause realizing you didn’t know her name, she catches on.

"I’m Jester." She greets properly.

"I’m (y/n). Nice meeting you Jester." You greet back. "Keep up the good work Pumats." You then turn to retreat back behind the curtain with a few "thank you's" and make your way back into the workshop.

"Hey uh (y/n), one more thing, you got a request for more of those little explosive spikes you made from a little goblin girl." Puma pokes his head into the workshop to inform you.

"Wait, someone actually wants more of those? But they aren’t very strong." You were surprised anyone was interested in something you made seeing as all the bigger and cooler enchantments were Pumat's doing.

"They said something about them being perfect for arrows." Puma explains.

"Oh! Umm, ok. How many are they asking for?"

"Fifty."

"Fifty! Wow, I got a lot of work to do then, it’s gonna take me a while. Thanks Puma." You give him a smile that he returns then leaves to help finish up with the costumers.

Some time went by, you continued your usual routine showing up early, working throughout the day and carefully returning "home" with a nice bag of coin for meals, all was well… until it wasn’t. One evening you were a little too confident in yourself and got a little careless, not checking for any thugs or muggers while turning down an alleyway like you usually do. You were just walking along merrily when you bumped into someone.

"Well, well. That sure sounds like a awful lot of coin for a street rat." A rather stocky dwarven man chuckles darkly. You take a few steps back towards where you’d entered but stop when you hear someone approach from behind, a tall lanky man blocked your exit pulling out a dagger. You started to panic, as much as you’d like to cast something to aid yourself, you left your spellbook and components for said spells back at the shop leaving you defenceless. You tried to dart past the dwarf hoping to loose the two further into the alleyway, what you didn’t count on was the dwarf to be nimbler then he appeared. You’re grabbed by the collar of your shirt and slammed against a wall, effectively knocking the air out of you and before you can push yourself up off the ground you feel a harsh kick to your side and a sharp pain in your arm. You try to scream for help but again before you can react your head is slammed hard against the ground leaving your vision blurry before completely blacking out…

You awaken with a feeling of slitting pain in your head and your entire body aching, slowly pushing yourself off the ground into a sitting position proving to even be a difficult task. Once you get a better look at yourself you can see a few cuts on your arms from the dagger the lanky man had used and you were covered in bruises, you reach a hand up to where your head was throbbing the most only to flinch away from the intense pain. You stare at your hand seeing it covered in your own blood, taking proper note that you were in fact surrounded by a small puddle of your own blood. You were surprised you even managed to regain consciousness, regardless your vision was still blurry and you needed medical attention, soon. You didn’t have any coin or items on you anymore leaving only one location for you to get help, a part of you dreading the idea but deep down you knew it was only a matter of time before you’d have to deal with the consequences of telling the truth. Shakily you get yourself to stand and hobble your way out of the alleyway towards your destination, looking to the sky you could estimate that it must’ve been close to late morning, early afternoon by now. You approach the door and with what little strength you had left you open the door and stumble into the shop.

"Welcome to the Invulnerable- Oh my goodness! (Y/n), what happened!?" You teeter and before you fall to the ground you feel a set of gentle hands catch you, then a second set of hands help to bring you to the back. After a few minutes your able to regain your focus back, seeing Matty and Sol on either side of you both with identically concerned looks on their faces.

"Here you are, this'll help fix you up." Sol hands you a greater healing potion which you waste no time in using to help ease away the lingering pain and get rid of bruises that weren’t covered by bandages. At this time Pumat walks in and gives a small nod to the other two.

"I’ll take it from here fellas." He tells them. They get up, Matty giving you one more gentle pat on the shoulder, and head back to the front leaving you alone with Pumat. "Care to tell me what happened?" He starts slowly and calmly.

"I umm, got mugged by some dwarf and lanky man in an alleyway." You say quietly.

"Now why were you in an alleyway so late, you should’ve been home with your parents." You let out a sad sigh and turn away from him a little. "(Y/n)?" You stay quiet but give a quick side glance. "I think I deserve an explanation here." He uses a more stern voice this time making you look over at him, despite the tone you could see genuine worry written on his face.

"I-I lied about my parents agreeing to this, because the truth is I don’t have any. I was left here all alone a few years ago, nobody came for me and I was forced to live on the streets. I meant to say something sooner, but I was scared…" You trail off a bit, feeling tears prick at the edges of your eyes.

"What could you be scared of, if you don’t mind me asking."

"I was scared you wouldn’t accept a dirty street rat. For so long I wanted to belong somewhere, but I was always turned away. I thought if I lied about myself you would accept me as an apprentice, but I wasn’t lying about learning enchantment I really do like it. I just didn’t want to be turned away again." By now you were sobbing, a stream of tears flowing down your face, your eyes turning red and puffy in the process. "I don’t want to be turned away again, please don’t be mad." You finish quietly through your sobs. There’s a pause before you feel yourself being pulled into a gentle, comforting hug. You stay in the hug for who knows and who cares how long until you finally pull away.

"Believe it or not, but I get it. I didn’t really fit in when I was about your age either." Pumat confesses, you look at him confused and he just gives you a kind smile. "I mean, do you see any other firbolgs that live here. I think not." You give a small giggle at that. "Now why don’t you take the rest of the day off, head on upstairs and get yourself some rest, you can use my room for now. I can handle myself just fine."

"Really? You’re sure it’s ok?" You give a curious look.

"It’s fine, I’ll get one of the others to help clear out our spare room for you to stay in later." You blink a couple of times to process what was just said.

"Wait, stay in? Like, live here?" You ask, wanting to know if you’d heard correctly or if you were hallucinating.

"Well of course! I can’t have my favourite apprentice sleeping in the streets, I’d worry too much knowing you might get mugged again or worse. It's real bad for the health." He states sorta matter-of-factly. You break out into a large smile at this.

"That is, respectfully, a very generous offer." You say with a playful bow. "Thank you. For everything." You continue more seriously this time.

"It is my humble pleasure." He gives you a nod. "Now go on, you need to rest and recover." You give him one more hug which he happily returns before heading up for that much needed rest.

I stayed up way later then I thought to finish this…… worth it

[eerythingisshaka]

Ficmas Day #19 “Santa Spooky”

[Oscar “Spooky” Diaz x Reader]

Word Count: 1k

“In five minutes, we’re all going to go to the office one by one and set out our Secret Santa gifts for each other.  Once you’ve gotten yours, your secret Santa will reveal themselves to you!”

Your supervisor announces this over the cubicles with a ‘hear ye’ kind of vibrato.  All week long, people were trying to guess Secret Santas or complaining about the list of possible gift ideas their recipient requested.

“Don’t they know the limit is $20?  Where the hell am I getting AirPods for $20?”  one coworker complained.  Your Secret Santa recipient seemed reasonable:  a travel mug, phone charger, socks, snacks.  You counted your blessings that you could basically go into a CVS the morning of and mix some things up for them.  

Your supervisor leads everyone to the hallway to lay their gifts out on the desk of the gift recipient while maintaining anonymity.  When your turn arrives, you put down a blue travel mug with some candy bars.  As you walk back out, you notice your gift is already on your desk and get a little excited from the anticipation of who did it and what it is.

Once you’re all allowed back into the work area, everyone mills about to check what they got.  Your gift is well received as your coworker Dan comes to you and explains how much he has needed one and that you saved his life with the gift.  

But at your desk you see a body wrapped with a bow on it  but no tag saying who it is from.  The wrapping isn’t the neatest, but the effort is there.  You rip open the paper reveal quilt with a note on the top.

For the days when the air is too high in here

You smile to yourself, flipping the note for a name but finding none.  You look around the room for anybody that may be checking you out but no one seems preoccupied with you.  As you lay out your quilt across your lap, you see patterns that appear to be personal touches.  Patches with your favorite animal on it, a color palette that is spot on with your aesthetic.  Whoever got you the quilt knows more about you than you thought anyone in the office did.  

“I had that odd looking fella that does the mail,”  you overhear someone saying.  “You know they hire anybody for that position and his card didn’t have any gift suggestions, so I just gave him some gum.  97 cents that I won’t miss, right?”

Something clicks as you realize who is missing.  Looking around the office, it’s obvious who is not here because he isn’t even in the same area as the rest of you.  You scoop up your quilt and head for the mailroom.  

With warning signs of unauthorized personnel, you knock on the door and wait patiently.  

“Can I help you, sweetie?”  Lani, the main person who has been doing mail for 30 years opens the door.  

“Oh, sorry.  I was trying to see if the guy is back here?  I don’t have his name, but I know he does mail.”

“Ohh, Oscar?  Yes!  Come on in, I have to pick up some mail from another floor so if you’ll excuse me.”

You let her breeze past you as you hold the door for her.  Once inside, you see the guy sorting some large manila envelopes.

“Hey,” you say loudly.

He turns around to see you and instantly flashes a warm smile.  “How’re you doing?  I see you got your gift!”

He sets down the envelopes and walks up to you with his hands in his pockets.  You smile back, hugging the quilt tightly.

“Yeah I did!  It’s so nice and amazingly made, I just unfortunately have no clue who could’ve gotten it for me.”

Oscar shrugs.  “Sometimes mystery leads to the best stories.”

You wrinkle your nose up.  “I don’t think so.  Not when something this nice is given.”

He runs his hand over his short cut.  “I mean if anything it looks homemade.  Probably didn’t cost the person much money since their abuelita has materials for stuff like that all over her house.”

Impressed, you nod approvingly.  “I see.  That’s a pretty nice guess.”

“You’re welcome,” Oscar says proudly with a puff to his chest.  

You hold the blanket out to him.  “Then help me figure this out.  This person picked a bunch of colors I like and even my favorite animal on here.  How lucky of a guess would that be to get those right?”

Oscar furrows his brow, coming closer to inspect the fabric.  He points to each patch as he explains.  

“It could be luck to guess a random set of colors that go together, but what really shows someone’s...intelligence…”

You nod with a hand under your chin.  “Mhm, intelligence, yes.”

“Would notice that their work clothes never stray to a pastel color, nor pinks, nor greens.  Maybe seen orange once, but nixed that since it was just the once.”

You kiss your teeth.  “Damn, I have to get more color in my life.”

Oscar screws his face up in a disapproving manner.  “Please, there’s nothing wrong with anything you wear.  But the animal was a lucky guess.”

“How?”

“You were talking about a nature documentary and seemed to like it so…”

“So THEY just figured that was it?  Good job...to them.”

Oscar smiles again.  “Of course.  I’m kind of jealous.  You want some gum by the way?  It’s pretty good.”

You accept as he reaches for the pack in his back pocket. 

“I was wondering if this person would go out sometime with me but since I can’t find them…”

Oscar perks up.  “Oh!  You know, I think I did see your Secret Santa lay the gift down, you know?  I bet he wouldn’t mind.  I just gotta ask them.”

You turn to walk away.  “Ok.  Thanks for the help.”

“Oh hang on!  I may need your number, so I can text you his information to get in contact and stuff.”

You rattle off your digits as he types them in his phone.  As you open the door to the mailroom again you turn back and say Merry Christmas.  As you walk out, your phone dings.

Merry Christmas to you too.

[rhodochrosite-love]

College Ford x shy! male! reader

Hi! Dedicating this to @lantern-light-and-starry-skies and @guilty-pleasures-abound for the great idea!  I hope my writing suffices, it’s a lil angsty ;n;

Title- Hopes for the Hopeless

Pairing- Ford x reader, Backupsmore Ford x reader

Characters- Stanford Pines, You, Fiddleford McGucket, unnamed professors, unnamed students

Summary- You live in your own little world, full of fantasy and surprises.  What happens when campus genius Ford Pines makes his way into your bubble?

Tags- Heartbreak, angst, sorry guys it’s sad, male!reader, though nothing’s specifically pointed to you being male, it’s fine, shy!reader, fluff, Ford x reader

Backupsmore University was a land of missed opportunities and disappointment.  If you were gifted, it didn’t matter.  You were in the deep, dark maw that was Backupsmore and there was almost nothing you could do about it once you were enrolled.

Almost.

If you partner up with the college’s 2+2 program, it got you out of there within two years with the credits necessary to take the next level of courses in your major somewhere else.  It was a win-win for both the college and the students, for obvious reasons.  

That’s why you were here.  You double majored in Art and Creative Writing, which always seemed to bore more than half of the people who asked (most being family).  You always assure them, however, that you are the best in class.  After all, you were told so by the one and only brainiac on campus; Stanford Pines.

When you first met him, he struck you as a bright-eyed, wildly curious geek.  Not to say that you weren’t a geek yourself-- the Tolkien books weighing down your book bag certainly proved that.  But the way he challenged the professor at least once every class period struck you as both odd and fascinating.  You had always wondered what it was like to be that enthusiastic and curious, like many were once.

So when Stanford had been urged to observe his classmates as per instruction (don’t just pursue yourself, compare yourself, Pines!), and had leaned in to glance at your work, you were surprised by how much interest he had taken into it.  “This linework is impeccable, how did you manage to get that consistency with that pen?!” or “Your shading style compliments the negative space of the page very well!”

It was safe to say that after that, you were smitten with him.

Your desires to transfer to another school were slowly being abandoned with the hopes that he would notice you, poor ol’ you, in any way possible.  You tried wearing something other than your jeans and sweatshirt for something a little catchier, but he didn’t seem to notice.  You tried casually flirting with him, which turned into you just blabbering on and on about naked mole rats, which was awkward for the both of you.  You even tried to read up on books that could potentially teach you how to ‘catch a man’, but anything like that was classified as cheesy romance novels that all the middle-aged professors and freshman girls were checking out from the library, so you were left in the dust.  To simply daydream in your own little world, what it would be like to hold his wonderfully weird hands, to see him smile just for you, to lean in for a kiss at the same time and feel the affection radiating off of him… 

“Y/N?  Are you with me?”  Your thoughts were interrupted by Ford, who was walking beside you up a short flight of stairs.  You flushed red, and quickly reassured him that you, in fact, were.  And totally not dozing off.  Not at all.  

The genius chuckled, “Well, I certainly hope not!  I wouldn’t want you passing out, especially on the stairs!  What an awful place to fall...”  You nodded, your cheeks a pretty pink now.  That’s right, you were going to Ford’s dorm.  Not for anything scandalous!  The two of you were studying for quite a while at your apartment just off campus.  And seeing as though you didn’t want him to stress about his term paper that ‘still needed reworking’, you wanted to drive him back. You’ve been there, totally stressful…. Although you couldn’t help but wonder what may have happened if he decided to stay the night?

“Glad ya’ could join me, Ford, at…”  A southern voice sounded from the darkness of the room, “... 1:47 in th’morinin’.  Where’ve you been all darn night, huh?”  “Certainly not at any jug-band concerts, I’ll have you know.”  Ford responded hastily, turning to set up the table in the corner to continue his term paper.  

You turned to Ford’s roommate, offering a small wave of hello.  He perked up at the sight of a guest, and smiled fondly.  “You’re Y/N I presume?”  You’re cheeks went pink again, and asked the man how he knew you.  He laughed, “Ford talks about ya’ sometimes!  Y’seem like a real nice fella’, is all.”  He reaches out a long-fingered hand for you to shake, “Fiddleford McGucket.  Pleased t’meetcha!”  You nod in agreement, a few moments later finding yourself looking around on Ford’s side of the dorm before quickly saying goodnight to the both of them and exiting.

You had become more embarrassed by yourself than you ever had before.  You had imagined all sorts of both innocent and lewd situations with the brainiac and yourself there in his dorm… They were all so vivid that you could almost reach out and make them all reality.

You came to a logical conclusion.

You were gonna get a haircut.  

It wasn’t all that intense, really.  Before, your hair ended at about shoulder-length and was often unkempt, but now it widened out, exposing your ears and brushing your bangs off to the side ever so carefully.  You looked in the mirror that afternoon and finally decided on what to do… You were going to tell him how you feel.  

The following day, when 9:30 rolled around for Drawing and Painting class, you wore your best duds-- high waisted slacks with a button up shirt with two, no THREE, buttons undone from the top, and the sleeves rolled up to your elbows.  All complete with sleek, dark shoes and a casual belt with a silver buckle, you felt like you could do anything you wanted!  It had to go positive when you looked this good, right?

“I’m sorry… I’m afraid I don’t feel the same.”

You leaned away from Ford.  What did he say?

“I… I don’t feel the same, Y/N.”

Shit, you said that out loud?  Fuck.  Why did this happen?  Why does this always have to happen…

You always get your hopes up with a guy, don’t you?  You always end up being disappointed by what you can’t have-- Correction, by what you’ve never even had in the first place.  You really thought it could be possible to love someone, even after your last breakup?  Stanford was different, but apparently not, according to the situation at hand.  Fuck, how could you be so stupid?!

“Hey.. Hey, please don’t-- Don’t cry.  I’m sorry, I really am!  I’m not looking for a relationship right now… I thought you knew that, please don’t cry.”

You both stood there now, outside the classroom, 3 feet apart from where you were; your hand was on his arm, the other hand close to your chest.  Now they were both clenched against each other, trying to find some way to escape your body as hot tears flew from your eyes like someone turned on a sprinkler.

You hadn’t even realized you were crying until he pointed it out to you, to which you turned away from his gaze and avoided it.  You apologized, too, mostly on instinct, and promised that you’d never bother him again, quickly turning to leave.

Ford suddenly grabbed your arm after a single moment of hesitation, “Y/N, wait!”  You turned to look at him-- your eyes beginning to puff up and turn a shade of pink, letting your tears drip down off your chin, you waited for him to say something (anything!) before shaking him off and running to your car.

After throwing yourself in the driver’s seat, you started up the engine, both hands clenched on the wheel.  After holding in everything from the previous moment to the wheel, you finally let go.  Wailing and weeping, similar to a child.  However, you would think that would be associated with selfishness or with tantrum.

No, you cried like a child who’s dreams were crushed.  Who’s hopes were burnt like the cheapest wood in the forest.

You wondered how long the heartbreak would last this time.

If you made it to here, I thank you!  This certainly isn’t my first time writing but it was fun to do!  Leave a comment or a like and I’d love to talk to anyone about our favorite boy!

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

I have so many prompts😭😬 my last one was "Peter works at a rescue, Tony comes to get a doggo because he’s a single man in his 50s starting to feel the emptiness of the penthouse more and more. He gets way more than that."👬🏻🐶 But if that's not your thing and you fancy having a look at the ones I think of + ones others have come up with and I thought were cute I'll leave you the link ( /tagged/pp%3A%20prompt ) 🌸🌸🌸 can't wait to read regardless of the prompt!! have a lovely day!!

Struck From A Great Height

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark (Starker) Rating: Teen (T) Notes: This was perfect! I love puppies and Tony with a puppy was a true treat to envision. Thanks for the prompt @puppypeter! I’ll take the next one please ;D Oh, & the picture Tony sends to Peter is this one!  Word Count: ~3.3k Warnings: There aren’t any - just cute puppies. Summary: 

Tony is lonely so he adopts a white lab named Zero. He meets another kind of puppy at the rescue and decides to keep him, too. 

do the thing, send in all the prompts 

Loneliness – a word that could easily be used to describe the feeling that steadily crept up on Tony Stark.

He couldn’t pinpoint when it became a thing. For most of his life, being alone was the goal – with no one around to want things from him, Tony was free to do whatever he wanted, when he wanted. Building a multi-billion-dollar company up from a structure that Tony didn’t want anything to do with took a lot of time and effort. Simple things like love and affection weren’t really anywhere near his scope.

When getting older started to become apparent, Tony ran from it. He hopped into bed with whatever man looked his way with the right sparkle in his eye. If these people found him to be desirable, did looming near 50 actually mean anything?

The longer he let himself stoop to the lowest of low, the more he realized that men who wanted nothing more than his body weren’t worth the effort it took to get dolled up, go out, entice them, and do the whole song and dance that inevitably led to something quick in the bathroom or a rough fumble in his bed. Waking up alone after that made the emptiness ache a little more.

It became pretty apparent that behavior like that didn’t particularly help, so he reverted back to the lab rat that he truly was and put all of his efforts into the creation of tech and furthering of the projects that were already in the works. If Tony could rely on anything to get him by, it was his brain and the depths that existed within it.

And while that was fulfilling in a professional sense, Tony craved something more. No matter how much he told himself he didn’t need anything or anyone else – the deepest part of his soul called out, his soft bits desperate to take care of another living thing. The grandness of his penthouse that used to bring him so much joy just seemed empty – the multitude of rooms wouldn’t make him happy, that much was for sure.

Rhodey brought up the idea of a pet one night over dinner – he’d been able to step away from his pregnant wife to spend a bit of time eating junk food and playing the latest COD update. Tony didn’t like to admit it, but this time with his best friend was the highlight of his month. The thought of that made his skin crawl slightly – he loved the hell out of Rhodey, he couldn’t deny that. Yet, being completely overjoyed by nothing other than his presence had that pit of loneliness opening up within him a little more.

Listening to him talk, Tony wasn’t put off by it – in fact, having a dog with floppy ears to make a mess around the place might actually be the cure to the melancholy that didn’t want to go away. Tony couldn’t take the blue feeling for much longer – to most people, his life was perfect. Trying to portray that constantly was exhausting and compounded the already shitty feelings that weren’t anywhere close to changing.

The very next day, Tony spent the first part of the day looking up rescues that were open for adoption. His heart started to beat a little faster when he started to scroll through the many adorable little faces of the dogs that were just waiting for someone to come along and take them home. A small white lab puppy caught his eye, the small dog making his decision pretty easy.

Tony took the rest of the day off – he wanted to see about the adoption process and if all things went well, get his new friend home and on the path to adjusting to the good life that he couldn’t wait to provide. Changing out of his suit into a pair of jeans, an old AC/DC shirt, and an open black and red flannel, Tony set out towards Happy Tails, his final destination.

A wave of nerves washed over him when he first walked through the door of the shelter. The smell of cleaner reminded him of the many hospital visits he had over the years, the memories almost enough to send him back through the doors and as far away as possible. Before that could happen, Tony was welcomed by a soft voice – a sense of calmness surrounded him almost immediately. Continuing on his original path, Tony clenched his fist tightly and walked towards the comforting voice.

“Welcome to Happy Tails!” Tony heard again when he got a little closer. Looking up, Tony had to stop himself from gasping – the man behind the counter was the most exquisite being he’d ever seen. Chestnut hair framed sharp cheekbones that were covered with a soft redness that probably sat there enticingly all day. There was the slightest touch of facial hair coating the man’s face, the chin strap he was working on still on the thin side. When they locked eyes, Tony felt himself blush, the wide smile on pink lips knowing and entirely too enticing to actually be real.

Raising a hand like the idiot he actually was, Tony waved at him – his stomach dropping at his stupidity almost instantly. “Uh, hi – “ Tony muttered, his brains attempt to fix the situation failing miserably. The hearty chuckle he was met with was just as sinful as the smile and eyes and cheeks that this man was graced with.

“Hi! Thanks for stopping in. I’m Peter – one of the resident puppy gurus. What can I help you with today?” The man – Peter, said with a wide smile and the most brilliant twinkle in his eye. Tony found himself returning the look without a second thought, his cheeks pinching uncomfortably after a few minutes of the beaming grin taking over his face.

“Puppy guru, huh? You may be exactly who I’m looking for, then. I saw this dog online,” Tony started as he walked closer to the desk Peter stood behind. He showed him the beautiful white lab, the fingers on his phone shaking slightly. “I want to adopt him, if he’s still available.”

“Oh, that’s Zero. He’s one of the newest fellas on the block and is very much available. He’s really chill and likes to sit around a lot for a dog his age. Labs are usually filled with energy. Not Zero – he’s just along for the ride.” Tony listened intently, Peter’s babbling about the dog absolutely adorable. Not to mention the fact that Zero sounded like the best companion – another entity in the house that just wanted to exist.

“Why don’t we got back and meet him? They just got fed, so he’ll be ready for a nice cuddle.” Peter gestured for him to step around the counter and opened the door leading into the kennels, following behind him closely. Tony looked around, his senses overwhelmed by all the sounds and smells that immediately hit him. There were a multitude of dogs in kennels, all shapes and sizes of them, each one looking at him with some sort of look in their eyes.

Peter put a hand on his lower back and pointed towards the end of the hall – “ the puppies have their own hallway.” The hand stayed where it was until Tony was out of the danger zone and in an area that was far less populated. Tony saw Zero before Peter could point him out, the small white lab sat in the middle of its kennel, looking at them curiously.

Tony felt his heart melt a little when Peter opened the kennel and Zero walked right over to him. Crouching down, he put his hand out to be smelt – the wet nose against his skin had him laughing, a huge smile slipping across his face. When the paw shot out to press against his wrist, Tony was a goner. He sat on the floor and let Zero walk into his lap – Tony wrapped his arms around the pup and scratched wholeheartedly up and down his back.

He saw Peter sit down beside him in his peripheral vision, his hands reaching out to run over Zero’s soft fur, too. Tony turned his head to look directly at him, the grin still alive and well on his face. “What do I need to do? I can’t leave here without him,” Tony admitted shamelessly, his chest light in so many ways for the first time in a while.

The smile he got from Peter in response to his question could only be described as breathtaking – the roundness of his cheeks made Tony want to reach out and touch; his entire being ached to see if his skin was really as soft as it looked. He watched Peter slip his tongue out and wet his lips, the other not missing the fact that Tony couldn’t look away. Peter let out a soft breath and kept staring at him.

“The process is pretty easy, honestly.”

And it was – Tony paid the fee and signed the paperwork while Peter ran through Zero’s latest vet visits and the ones that would be necessary in the future. Tony didn’t think to bring a leash, so Peter gave him one hanging behind the desk. “I teach a behavior class on Friday nights. You can bring the leash and Zero back later this week for it,” Peter said confidently, their fingers brushing when the leash exchanged hands.

Nodding, Tony held up the leash in salute. “Whatever you say, puppy guru. Do you happen to have a card? Just in case I have any questions, or anything.” Tony tried to sound innocent, but the smirk that pulled across his face gave him away. It’d been a long time since he tried to get someone’s number – he felt a little rusty.

Peter didn’t miss a beat, however – he pulled a drawer open and de-capped a pen, his hand flying over the card quickly. “That’s my personal. Just in case,” Peter shot back, his fingers pushing the card across the counter.

Tony picked it up before he knelt down to get the leash attached to Zero’s collar – the dog resting heavily against his leg while he did. Petting his head lightly, Tony stood back up and threw Peter one last grin. “Thanks for the help, Peter. We’ll see you Friday.” Tony couldn’t help but smile as Zero started to pull him forward, the dog’s paws slipping on the floor in his haste.

----

After letting Zero explore both the front and back seat of his car, Tony settled into the driver’s seat and set off towards the nearest pet store. He felt a little nervous bringing his brand-new friend into the store – they weren’t used to each other yet. Zero didn’t even bat an eye, though – he followed Tony around the aisles with a wagging tail and minimal barking. Tony held the different toys down for Zero to sniff every now and again, his dog just as indecisive as him.

In the end, they left the store with a whole lot more shit than Tony originally intended. The big bed looked hilarious in the backseat of the small Audi. Zero seemed to like it, though – he curled up on the thing the second Tony started the car. He figured he’d be dealing with an unruly puppy, or overexcited thing that couldn’t control itself. The reality of the situation was even better.

The night went surprisingly well – Tony let Zero take up whatever space he wanted in the penthouse. Peter assured him that he was potty trained, which proved to be correct pretty early on when the dog scratched his leg and looked longingly towards the balcony. He did it again early the next morning, his cold nose pressing against Tony’s cheek more than enough of a wakeup call to get him out of bed, stumbling towards the sliding glass door. The damn dog was too cute, it seemed impossible to hold anything against him.

Physically unable to part himself from Zero, Tony put the brand-new blue collar and tags they got the night before around his neck. The ‘bad to the bone’ leash clipped nicely to it – the whole look totally fitting for the badass little pooch. With Zero completely decked out and identifiable as Tony’s, he felt comfortable enough to leave with the pup for the day.

Tony’s caffeine headache had him pulling into the drive-thru of his favorite café, a smile coming to his face when he got to order a pupachino for the little dog that already owned all the pieces of his malfunctioned heart. Zero climbed up onto his shoulder while they waited in line, so Tony flipped the camera on his phone and took a picture of the two of them. Fumbling around the cupholder he put Peter’s card in, Tony sent the picture in a text – the happiness he felt needed to be shared.

Tony Stark: Look how cute we are. Thanks for hooking us up.

He got a few sips of his coffee in before his phone went off, the number he already typed in as Peter Parker lighting up his screen. Tony shook his head at the giddy feeling spreading through his chest, an old man like him shouldn’t feel as on edge about a cute guy texting him as he did in that moment.

Peter Parker: You two are quite the pair. Peter Parker: It was my pleasure! Glad to have made such a sweet connection.

The soft grin he already associated with Peter stayed on his lips the rest of his drive into the office and even further into the day as the two of them continued to text back and forth. Tony didn’t get much work done – between trying to be as charming as possible in his texts to Peter and loving the fuck out of Zero, there wasn’t much room for anything else.

Predictably, the rest of the week followed suit. Tony couldn’t get enough of the white fur-ball that got more and more comfortable with him as the days passed. Zero stayed by his feet while he was in the lab and followed him around the penthouse when Tony was finished for the night. The mutual appreciation of walks had them wandering around the little neighborhoods Tony never took the time to explore before.

By the time Friday rolled around, Tony was excited to show off his and Zero’s bond – a big part of him thought that Peter would be the most impressed by something like that. In their conversations throughout the week, Tony learned that Peter trained dogs professionally after studying behavior in college. He answered any of Tony’s questions and appreciated all the little anecdotes Tony shared about the short time he’d been enjoying the heck out of Zero.

Walking into the room he was directed to, Tony lit up when Peter noticed him. In a couple of long strides, Peter was right in front of him, his hand already reaching down to press against Zero’s head. “Hey you two! You guys are in luck – it’s a small class, so you’ll get lots of hands on stuff tonight,” Peter caught his eye as he spoke, the smirk on the younger man’s lips making Tony’s throat suddenly very dry.

He nodded his head listlessly, his hand tightening on Zero’s lead. The crush on Peter that he’d been fostering for the past few days doubled in size throughout the next hour. There was one other dog owner and their pup – another puppy adopted from the rescue. Not only was Peter attentive, he knew his shit and didn’t mind explaining things as he went. As someone that put information above almost everything else, Tony liked all things about that.

Zero seemed to like it, too – he showered Peter with affection when he stood talking to Tony at the end of the class. He nosed at Tony’s hand, then pressed against Peter’s leg and licked at his ankles. Tony couldn’t help but grin down at him – the antics already too much.

“I found a local brewery that has a patio that allows dogs – any interest in catching a drink with us?” Tony asked – the conversation had got to the point where they were just staring longingly at each other. It seemed like the perfect time to put himself out there. The grip on Zero’s lead tightened for just a second; he didn’t think he read their interactions wrong, but after so much time away from the dating game, he could never be too sure.

Peter reached out and laid a hand on his arm, the touch the slightest bit reassuring, “I would like that very much. I hope you’re talking about Landry’s – they have the best cheese curds.” He turned his body and started to gather his stuff up like he’d merely been waiting for Tony to buck up the courage to invite him out before getting his shit together. Maybe he was – the idea of that honestly not the worst thing. At least then, he was joined in the intensity of his feelings.

They split up for the few minutes it took them to drive their separate cars to the brewery and met back up at one of the picnic tables closest to the open grass space right next to the building. There were a couple of other dogs milling around the grass – Zero looked over at them curiously, but remained by Tony’s side, his body resting on his feet after a while.

Their view of the sunset was fantastic – they shared a couple orders of cheese curds and truffle fries; Tony liked the way Peter closed his eyes around the bites that were extra indulgent – the redness of his cheeks absolutely divine. The amount of times being caught looking at him probably should have been embarrassing. Yet, Peter simply smiled back and moved his hand a little closer to Tony’s on the table.

It took most of the night for their fingers to finally tangle together – Tony wanted to be sure and enjoyed the build-up to it once he was. Peter’s hands were just as soft as Tony imagined them – his long fingers fit perfectly between his own. They shared a shy smile and sat together until the sky started to rumble a little while later.

Big raindrops suddenly falling on them made the decision to pay the bill and huddle for warmth in Tony’s car easy – Peter climbed into the passenger seat without any restraint. It was obvious that neither man was ready for the night to end. 

In hopes of a few seconds to think his next move through, Tony started the car and made sure the vents were open so the car didn’t get too hot. He was startled by a cool hand on his own, Peter’s fingers around his wrist pulling his attention back to where they both wanted it to be.

“I had a really good time tonight,” Peter admitted, his body shifting in the seat. The Audi didn’t have too much space in it, so they were already close. The move of Peter’s shoulders brought them within breath sharing distance. “I like spending time with you.”

Tony didn’t bother trying to find the words to respond appropriately. Without any hesitation, he closed the space between them and pressed their lips together. His hands wandered to the front of Peter’s shirt; the fabric there warm from the heat of his body. A soft moan left Peter’s lips, the sound so encouraging – Peter’s response to it all exactly what Tony was hoping for.

Tilting his head, Tony was about to deepen the kiss when he felt a wet tongue on his cheek. Since his was currently tangled with Peter’s, it could only belong to none other than Zero. He pulled away with a sudden laugh – the excellence of the situation hitting him when Peter beamed at him.

“Better get used to him, Zero. I don’t think he’s going anywhere,” Tony murmured, one of his hands running softly over the puppy’s head.

Peter pulled Tony and Zero towards him, the group hug the sweetest thing Tony figured he’d ever been a part of. The press of lips against his forehead had Tony sighing, his body light for the first time in decades.

The start of something new felt pretty damn good.